#and i still have most of the work day to get through

[stylesharrys]

Y/N’s never been with a man like Harry before. (Blurb)

A/N: I haven’t posted any content on here for a while (but I’m working on it I promise), so here’s a little blurb for you darlings — I’m also opening up requests again so if you have any blurb ideas, feel free to send them in <3

//

For as long as she could remember, Y/N had always done everything when it came to relationships. The cooking, the cleaning, the date planning — all of it. It was never like that in the beginning, of course. Most men would love-bomb and tell her everything she wanted to hear. She’d never realise until it was too late.

That’s how it always happened.

And yet, she always allowed herself to forget those signs whenever she met someone new. Always told herself that it wasn’t fair to pre-judge anybody and that perhaps that’s just how they were and it wasn’t an act.

It was foolish, really — her way of thinking. Because time and time again, they always proved her wrong, always left her feeling alone and unappreciated until she finally bucked up the courage to call it quits and leave.

She tried to be more weary of it when she met Harry. She found herself mentally scrutinising every word he spoke, every promise he made. She’d lock everything away in a safe in her mind that she’d go back through if he ever slipped up or started showing signs that he wasn’t who he portrayed himself to be when they first met.

But that day didn’t come, it still hadn’t.

In Y/N’s most recent relationship, she’d never been so low. She’d stupidly agreed to move in with James and from there, it went downhill pretty fast. He never cleaned up after himself, ever. His damp towels would be left on the bathroom floor, his empty beer bottles and candy wrappers would be left on the counter instead of in the bin, and the one time he did wash the dishes after dinner, he made a right cock out of it.

Weaponised incompetence was what she remembered her mother calling it. When somebody purposely carries out a task poorly as to not be asked to do it again.

He didn’t cook, had no idea how to use the washing machine and at one point made it blatantly clear that because he worked, he shouldn’t have to come home and do chores around the house after.

That was the cherry on top for her. Because Y/N worked, too. She worked the same kind of hours and still did everything in the home and cleaned up after him day in and day out.

When her and Harry first started dating, she kept her heart close to her chest. She was far too afraid of making the same mistakes as last time, of wasting time and energy into someone who isn’t willing to give her one-hundred percent back.

But Harry did.

Harry cooked on nights that Y/N cleaned and vice versa. She never once had to ask him to pick up his damp towel or put his rubbish in the bin. Harry just did these things. He changed the sheets on his own accord, he did more laundry than Y/N and he enjoyed a weekly Sunday deep clean with her, blaring music and lighting a candle at the end of it.

Tonight was no different. She came home from work a little later than usual and dinner was already waiting for her on the table. Harry had remembered she texted earlier in the day that she was feeling under the weather, and prepared her some chicken soup with buttered rolls for as soon as she got home.

A bubble bath was run and fresh pyjamas were warming in the dryer. The floors had been hoovered and mopped, the laundry was folded and hung in the wardrobes and the trash had been taken out.

The realisation of something that happened every day hit her tonight for some reason. Perhaps because Harry picked up the chores she typically did as well, or maybe because he thought of her and did the dinner and bath to make her life a little easier.

Either way, it had tears stinging her vision and her heart thumping. It was silly, really. She was getting emotional over her partner doing the bare minimum — him pulling his weight and keeping their home clean.

“What’s a’matter?” His gentle voice cooed from across the table.

Y/N smiled tearily, taking a bite out of her roll as she shook her head. She didn’t want to make a thing out of this — she knew he’d only laugh at her and call her a numpty. (Which in this instance, she was.)

“Nothing, I just appreciate this a lot,” she swallowed her food as the tears began to dry.

Harry squinted at her, not quite buying what she was saying. “Y’sure? If the soups bad, you can be honest and tell me. Promise I won’t get too upset.”

She laughed at him, shaking her head. “I just hope you know how much I appreciate and acknowledge what you do in our home and our relationship. Thank you for not leaving everything on my shoulders.”

Harry’s face softened into one of adoration, like he couldn’t believe she was thanking him for doing what any responsible adult should. But he understood. She’d told him about her exes, about how she felt like their mother ninety percent of the time.

Harry couldn’t imagine ever being like that.

“I appreciate and acknowledge everything you do, too. Know you’ve had a rough day, didn’t want you coming home to stuff to do. You can have your soup, take a long bath and I even charged your Kindle.”

Y/N smiled at him, lovingly. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” Harry’s words were sincere, and she knew he meant what he said. “Oh, and I cancelled the plumber for tomorrow, so you can still get your nails done.”

She frowned, finishing the last of her soup. “Why? Did he come out today?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I sorted it.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Sorted it as in…”

“As in I fixed the leak. You don’t need to hire maintenance people for the house, babe. If you notice something needs fixing just let me know and I’ll sort it.”

His statement shouldn’t have made her feel hot inside but it did. A man that would actively repair their house and not batter an eye or complain about it? That would do it without being asked?

Now, why the fuck did that turn her on?

//

Tag list:

@kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

[fagtainsparklez]

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

#muse talk #bumble-punch #ask to tag #aaand scene #i think #this is very long i am sorry. a lot of shit has gone down.

[deedeeznoots]

Not the Strongest Anymore 

Characters: Satoru Gojo, GN!Reader 

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst 

Content: Reverse Comfort, Established Relationship, Non Sorcerer!Reader, Injured!Gojo, Mentions of Blood 

A/N: I made this story because Gojo deserves someone to take care of him and give him a million hugs :( 

Synopsis: When the Strongest sorcerer and your lover Satoru Gojo suddenly barges into your shared home bloodied and injured beyond belief, you make it your priority to heal him. However, you get suspicious when you notice him continuously dodging questions related to how he sustained those injuries. 

Water. 

That was the only thing that filled your senses. Whether it was the feeling of the warm water on your hands as you washed the dishes, or the soft plop plop plop as single droplets of rain made their way on the glass pane of your window. Yeah… water, that was what surrounded you on this night.

As you look out the window, you think of nothing but Satoru. Being the strongest sorcerer, your lover often worked early mornings and late nights. This was something he was accustomed to since he was a teenager. By extension, it was something you grew to get used to as well. It wasn’t that you were particularly fond of him being away for an entire day, or sometimes days on end, but it wasn’t like you could say anything. This wasn’t a normal job he could call off for, and you loved him so much that you wanted to stick by him, no matter the possible dangers that entailed. 

Still…you had an odd feeling in your chest. Think of it as intuition from being with Satoru for so long. You had the smallest feeling of something being off, and you felt it in your bones. After finishing up on washing the dishes, you looked out the window for any trace of your partner. “It’s getting pretty late, I wonder what he’s up to”, you thought out loud. Unfortunately, your mind jumps to the worst case scenarios. You thought about monstrous curses and curse users with terrible intentions. Satoru always got the worst of the missions, always being relied on to deal with the most dangerous of work. Your body shivers at all the things he must have seen, what it must be like to be expected to handle the worst sins of society. It was something you wouldn’t have wished upon anyone, let alone the love of your life. 

You shouldn’t be thinking like this. These thoughts would only make things worse, after all. So you shake your head to try and keep the thoughts at bay. “He’s probably fine” you said to yourself, walking away from the window and deciding to head to bed. Sleep… that’s what you should do right now. Then once you’re awake he’ll be by your side, just like normal. He’s perfectly fine.

Almost as if on cue, the man of the hour comes in, loudly barging in through the door. 

“Satoru!” you yelled out, before gasping at the sight. 

Before you was Satoru on the floor, bloodied and wet. He had wounds of differing severity all over his body… and the blood. Oh, the blood. There was so much of it, combining with the water to make a small puddle underneath Satoru’s pained body. You were used to Satoru coming home slightly injured sometimes, but this… this was something else. It was a truly terrible sight, so terrible that you froze for half a second, trying to process what you were seeing. 

Cough. Cough. The sound of Satoru coughing up blood before passing out in front of you snapped you out of your thoughts. You had to take care of him, and you had to do it fast. 

When Satoru opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in your shared bedroom. He groans in agony and discomfort, feeling pain in seemingly every cell of his body. He has no knowledge on how he got home, other than hazy memories of trying to get to you in the rain, which based on context clues, he assumes he was successful. He turns his head to look for you, which causes his body to give a jolting rush of pain at his attempts to move. 

“Don’t move”, your voice hits his ears, and he finally looks at you, sighing in relief as he sees your face. You’re here… thank God. In excitement, he sits up, ignoring the pain that his body is in. “Satoru…” you say in a warning tone, and he apologizes, though he’s already sat up. You’re covered in blood, his blood, but you don’t seem to have much of a reaction, only focused on his wellbeing. 

He sees the clock and notices that it’s nearly 4:00 AM. He was probably knocked out for at least a few hours. Realizing that you took care of him this late into the night fills his heart with glee. He looked down at his body and noticed the bandages all over himself. You attempt to bandage him up some more, getting to the spots that you couldn’t reach while he was lying down, but Satoru stops you. 

“Don’t do that”, he says with a smile, his voice laced with honey. His hand lightly grabs your arm to stop you, before he lets go. “Watch this,” he says like he’s a frat guy who learned a new party trick. His hand moves to one of the wounds on his body, and he attempts to use Reverse Cursed Technique on the injury. You giggle and patiently watch as he works on his wound. 

“Voila!” he dramatically shouts out as his hand moves away from his wound. What he didn’t expect though, was for the wound to stay the same. “Uhhh…” he awkwardly blinks at the painful injury, believing if he looked at it long enough, he could somehow make the wound to heal out of sheer will. 

“You don’t have enough cursed energy, my love…” you say to him. Even though you weren’t a sorcerer, you certainly knew enough to understand that any chance of Satoru healing himself at the state he was in is something out of wishes and dreams. You lovingly ruffle his white hair and go “Don’t push yourself, okay? It’s not anything like Reverse Cursed Technique, but I think I’m pretty good at healing the regular way” you laugh and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

Satoru accepts the kiss but still grimaces at the fact that he couldn’t heal himself. “I called Shoko but she’s away for a while, so this will have to do until you get your Cursed Energy back” you say while still rubbing his head, tangling his hair in your hands. Satoru nods. He was okay with that, more than okay, actually. He would rather have you heal him rather than Shoko or another doctor anyway.

“What happened out there, anyways?” you ask nonchalantly. Satoru just gives you a goofy smile and says “You know, I have no idea!”. He’s lying, you knew him long enough to know that. Plus, he was a terrible liar. You ignore it though, that could be dealt with another time. For now, your biggest priority was taking care of his wounds. Now understanding that he couldn’t use RCT, he allowed you to clean and patch up his wounds. Despite the agonizing pain he was in, he savored every moment of your touch, feeling warm inside at the prospect of you taking care of him. He usually dreaded being healed by other people, but this felt different. This felt… intimate, like a moment only you two shared together. 

“There you go!” you say with a smile as you finish patching him up, proud of the work you did to help bring him less pain. “Now…” you say, “Are you hungry? I can make you some food”. 

“Nah, I’m okay,” Satoru lied. He doesn’t remember when the last time he ate was, and the injuries weren’t helping. However… he didn’t want you to leave his side, so he opted to just deal with it, it’ll probably be fine, he thought.

His body had other plans though, and you hear the soft grumble of his stomach. You give him a stern look, and he scratches the back of his head, knowing he got caught. You give him one last look before turning away, “I’ll go make some soup”. 

“Noooo…” he whines, grabbing your arm “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just go to bed”. 

“Satoru…” you give him another warning call, before moving closer to him, cupping his face. You give him a kiss on the lips, still careful to not worsen any of his wounds. As you pull away, you touch your forehead to his, and tell him “It’ll be no more than ten minutes, okay?”. He knows he’s not getting through to you, so he nods with a pout on his lips, and leaves you with one last kiss before seeing you off. So cute! You thought, but you knew better than to tease him while he was already down.

“I’ll leave the door open so call if you need anything” is the last thing you say as you walk away.

You’re back in no time, just as you promised. This time, with some hot soup in your hands. He tries to take matters into his own hands and feed himself, but you lightly smack his hand away, insisting that you feed him. “You’ll spill soup all over yourself” you tell him, as you bring the hot liquid to his mouth. He complies and quickly finishes his meal. As he feels his hunger slowly subsiding, he feels you slowly bring his head down to his pillow and feels you make your way next to him on the other side of the bed. 

Next to him, you slowly caress his face in a way that only communicates one thing: I was so scared. You didn’t want to say it out loud to not bother him even more, and he didn’t need to hear you say it to understand. So… you both simply lied together, slowly drifting off to sleep as the pressures of the terrifying world around you slowly disappeared from the small little bubble you two built together. 

When Satoru wakes up the next day, the first thing he notices is the fact that you’re not by his side. The moment he notices this, he quickly sits up from his sleeping position and his eyes dart from place to look for you. He doesn’t see you, but he can sense the faintest smell of pancakes coming from outside the bedroom. Like a child on Christmas Day, he excitedly gets up from the bed toward the direction of the pancakes. He nearly falls over a few times due to the stinging pain on his ankles, but he is not deterred, and he makes his way to where you are in the kitchen. 

The sight before him was gorgeous. You… in his shirt, flipping some buttermilk pancakes over the stove. It was a dream come true for him. When you notice him out of bed, you begin to freak out a little bit. “Satoru! You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed by yourself!” you chastise, to which Satoru simply shrugs. You don’t completely blame him though, the smell of anything sweet could lure Satoru into a volcano if he deemed it enticing enough. So you simply tell him to sit down and rest at the table and that you are almost done cooking. Satoru excitedly complied, happily listening to your command and waiting patiently for breakfast. 

He had a warm feeling in his stomach while he watched you make him breakfast. He didn’t ask for you to do that, but you did. Thinking about it… he didn’t ask for you to do anything. He wasn’t used to being cared for in this way by anyone, and it made him feel all sorts of funny feelings. What was going on? He thought to himself.

He wasn’t given much time to ponder, however, as you placed a large stack of pancakes in front of him. Hesitantly, you also gave him some syrup on the side in a little container. “I know you love your pancakes sweet but don’t put too much my love, it’ll upset your stomach” you tell him, knowing he probably wouldn’t listen. You aren’t sure why you enable his sweets addiction so much, maybe it’s because of how much his eyes glow with happiness every time you let him slide. Yeah… the little glint of glee in his eyes, that’s what you live for, and that’s why you let him get away with any sweets-related mischief. 

The fact that you care so much about something as little as a stomach ache makes Satoru feel all fuzzy inside once again… but as you expected, he didn’t listen. On the contrary, he nearly douses his pancakes in as much syrup as possible, beaming with glee as he takes large bites out of the fluffy buttermilk goodness. 

As you both enjoy your meal, you decide that it’s a good enough time to once again ask Satoru the question that has continued to bug you since last night. “Satoru…” you place your fork down, which causes the man in front of you to look up “Hm?”. 

“What could you have possibly fought last night for you to end up like… like this?” you eye him up and down, pointing out the obvious. Satoru looked better now, sure, but that was more of a commentary on how messed up he was last night than how well he’s doing. If he was a normal person, Satoru would not even be able to move a finger. This wasn’t normal, even for Satoru, and you needed to know what was going on. 

“I really don’t know” Satoru laughs, he’s lying again, what was with this guy? You consider pushing the subject, but eventually you decide to just let it go for now. You can talk to him once he’s more healed. For now, you’re just glad that he’s alive and seemingly alright. 

After breakfast, Satoru once again attempts to use RCT to heal himself, and once again, it does not work. He curses to himself in frustration, “It’s okay Satoru… you’ll just have to take a break like the rest of us. I’m sure the world will be fine without Satoru Gojo for a day” you laugh. He grumbles at the thought, not being used to sitting still for so long, but he accepts defeat and decides that he’d enjoy spending the day with you anyways.

You spend the majority of the day being spooned by Satoru on the couch and hate-watching all the terrible TV shows cable television has to offer. “Man, I can’t believe they even air this stuff still” Satoru laughs at the screen as you turn away to face him. Looking at him up close, you pay closer attention to some of his scars, and notice something odd. Observing the wounds, you notice that some of them appeared to be recurring, as if they were healed using RCT but then cut through again. You feel Satoru’s chest vibrate as he laughs, causing you to snap out of your thoughts, but you keep thinking anyway. Something was really off. 

You have to basically drag Satoru into the bedroom to get him to rest. “But I’m not tireddddd…” he cries out “I don’t care. You can’t watch the TV for too long or it’ll strain your eyes, you know that better than anyone” you tell him as you get him to lie down on the bed. “Plus…” you add on with a smile, “I want to be the big spoon this time” you say as you bring him closer to your body. This causes him to to softly smile and close his eyes as you asked him to, though he doesn’t sleep. 

You keep holding him close, kissing his head and playing with his hair. You also kiss his ears, but that causes him to shiver and he says “Stop! It tickles, hehe”. You don’t stop, of course, knowing he secretly loves it when you mess with him. 

As you caress him through the night, you notice the small frown that begins to appear on his face, as he looks lost in thought. This saddens you a little. You’ve tried your best to be open with him, from the moment the two of you began dating. It took a while for him to take down his walls, and it still remains something he clearly struggled in, not wanting to appear weak. Despite this, you loved him. You loved that he trusted you enough to be this close to him. You loved that he allowed you to take care of him, no matter how hard it was for him. You loved Satoru, and you wanted to communicate that at every moment. 

“You know, I love yo–” 

“It wasn’t just one mission. It was multiple” Satoru suddenly spoke.  

“…What?” You softly asked him, not fully understanding what he meant. 

Satoru turned around to look you in the eyes. There, he explained the story of what happened last night. How he was slowly worn down from each mission he took. It started getting bad when he lost so much cursed energy that he was not able to fully hold up infinity, opening him up for hits from attackers. Despite this, he kept getting called on missions, and he kept going on them. Choosing to ignore any of the injuries he sustained until he was fully pushed to the edge. 

He’s essentially boiled down to a blubbering mess as he attempts to communicate with you, and you’re hardly able to understand him. You feel his warm tears on your chest as he tells the story, and you’re trying your best to keep up with this new information. However, one particular thing he tells you as he holds you close causes your eyes to widen.

“I…I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to keep worrying about me”. 

The fact that he felt this way broke your heart, and you held him even closer. You tried your best not to hold onto him too tight in order to not cause him too much pain. “Satoru…” you coo, explaining that he shouldn’t ever feel the need to hide anything from you. You kiss his forehead as you wipe his tears, something he fully leans into. 

“Why did you keep going on missions even though you were hurt though?” you ask, trying to be as soft as possible. You didn’t want to make it sound like you were berating him. 

His blue eyes look up at you confused, as if you asked him the stupidest question in the world. He thinks for a moment, trying to find the right words, when he says, “I…I have to. If I stop being the Strongest and going on missions, what will there be left to see?” He looks down at his own palm as he says these words. 

Your heart breaks even more hearing that Satoru feels this way, but he keeps going “You know… sometimes I don’t understand you”. You look at him confused, “You keep looking after me and taking care of me despite me being so weak that I can barely even move. Even when I try to be strong and do things on my own, you stop me. You stop me from being the Strongest… I don’t understand that.” 

When he finishes his sentence, you give him a kiss on the head and hold him even tighter. As you hold him, you tell him, “Well I certainly admire the Strongest, but…” you cup his face, looking directly into his bright blue eyes “…My favorite person will always be Satoru Gojo, because only Satoru can lie on the couch to laugh at bad TV shows with me… only Satoru puts absurd amounts of syrup in his pancakes…” you both laugh, “…and while the Strongest protects the world outside, only Satoru can come home to lie next to me”. You then give him a passionate kiss, hoping to put all your love into the act, something to help him understand the full depths of your love for him.

Pulling away, Satoru leans into your chest once again, and only says “Thank you… I love you too, by the way” he giggles before falling asleep in your arms. 

Satoru still had a long way to go in order to fully bring down his walls in front of you, but this… being able to spend a day with someone he loved so much and for the first time in his life, do absolutely nothing. That was certainly a good start. 

-

A/N: Like Gojo? He’s also mentioned in this fic and this fic! <3 

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #gojo jjk #satoru gojo writing #satoru gojo fluff

[howtofightwrite]

Is it possible to punch someone in the face in a way that causes visible damage, but doesn't impair them much in the long term?

It's extremely possible.

Your face is, mostly, a lot of soft tissue positioned directly over bone. This means that blows to the face, even relatively minor ones, are likely to produce disproportionately nasty looking injuries, without inflicting any meaningful impairment.

The first two are bleeding. Either from splitting the skin open, or via bruising. When there is bruising, there's also going to be some swelling (because there's relatively few places for the blood to go), so the victim has extremely visible injuries, which will be painful, but are otherwise mostly cosmetic.

Of course, bleeding from the face will look incredibly bad, whether that's from the nose, a split lip, or from simply from the skin tearing during the punch, but, again, that's going to be mostly cosmetic.

Cuts in the mouth can be a bit worse, but again, this can result in symptoms that look much worse than they are. Normally, if you're coughing up blood, that's an extremely bad situation, however, if someone has punched you in the nose and started a bleed running back down your throat, or if you've bitten your tongue or cheek, you may be literally spitting up blood, without being in serious peril.

Cuts to the cheeks and lips can also be caused by your foe driving the soft tissue into your teeth. This can also result in injuries that have difficulty clotting. The actual blood loss isn't serious, but it can be annoying if you've gotten a gashed lip that refuses to stop leaking blood for hours. (I'm speaking from personal experience here.)

A broken nose is a bit more serious. Not because they're particularly dangerous, but because it's likely to permanently alter the angle of your nose. This will also result in a lot of blood making the injury look worse than it actually is. Again, you're not going to lose a meaningful amount of blood, but it'll look exceptionally bad.

While it's less likely to occur with a punch, cuts to the forehead, even relatively solid gashes, are another cases where it will look far worse than the injury is. Your forehead is one of the most heavily armored portions of your body, and cuts there are likely to cause a lot of visible bleeding, without resulting in a meaningful loss of blood. If your body works the way it's supposed to, bleeding from the forehead should get into your eyebrows and flow around your eye, without obscuring your vision. In practice, you absolutely can get blood in your eyes, depending on your facial structure. I can't really speak to that experience, though I'd be inclined to say it's probably not especially pleasant.

Now, a lot of facial injuries hurt. Your face has a lot of nerve endings, and those are quite happy to report to your brain, when something's just caused it harm. This is especially true of your lips and tongue, as you use those organs extensively to evaluate the safety of the food you consume (even if you don't think about it.) (Chewing off a portion of my own lip to get the bleeding to stop still ranks as one of the most unpleasant bits of field care I've every experienced, and I strongly recommend not seeking out that experience.) So, this isn't without any impairment whatsoever, but in general, these aren't going to be life altering injuries, or even wounds that require weeks to fully recover from. Facial injuries are singularly unpleasant, but they are rarely serious. (Unless we're talking about damage to the eyes, or broken bones. Both of which are unlikely outcomes from punches.)

In a somewhat perverse way, blows to the face is ideal for inflicting injuries that look far worse than they actually are.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

[kykyonthemoon]

Rain On The Way Home

Zayne takes you home after an argument between the two of you.

ಇ. Zayne x Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags & warnings: since there's a bit spicy at the end I shall put 16+, MDNI here, fluff, short and sweet, kiss and make up, making out, argument, hurt/comfort, established relationship, character might be a bit ooc idk.

ಇ. Word count: ~1k9

ಇ. Based on a request by YNhi.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.

Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.

The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.

Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.

The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.

People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure. 

And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.

His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.

Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.

Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:

“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”

“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"

One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure. 

"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."

Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze. 

“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"

“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”

“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"

"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.

"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."

"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"

Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.

“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must  go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”

“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”

“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep. 

"Understood."

Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.

“What are you doing?” 

Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”

“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.

“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”

Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.

The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.  

All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.

You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.

"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"

"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"

That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.

“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.

Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:

“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”

Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.

“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”

You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.

“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."

Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.

"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"

You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.

As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:

"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"

You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.

Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.

#love and deepspace #fanfic #fanfiction #love and deepspace fanfic #zayne #rei #li shen #zayne love and deepspace #lads #lnds #l&ds #lads fanfic #lnds zayne #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne lads #love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #heart hunters series #banners and dividers by me

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom - Part 3

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4990

AN: Y'all are getting fed with this one. Have fun. :)

Click here for Part 2!

Thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping with some Russian translations lol.

DAY 34

“Do you have everything ready? Your presentation, your notes?” your dad asks.

“Yes, yes,” you tell him for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“This is where the comeback starts,” your dad says, and sometimes you wish he would just claim back his title. You were sick and tired of his coaching, even if you needed it a little bit. But if Envy Industries had gotten into this mess because of you, then you were the only person who could get them out of it. “I know I can’t be there in person–”

“I know, I know,” you dismiss. You were well aware of his vacation plans to the Maldives with his new girlfriend. Besides Envy, it was the only thing he wanted to talk about nowadays. But you still didn’t even know her name, and were certain he’d find a new one before the end of his trip.

“Tony will be there with you, right? He’ll keep you on track,” your dad continues, inching into sensitive territory now. Even though he denied it every time you confronted him, you knew he was always worried about you stepping into the CEO role because you were a woman. Hearing the doubts from the public and the competition hardly bothered you, but from your own father, it was like a punch to the face. Especially when you were not exactly proving him wrong given how things had played out since your first day.

“Who cares if Tony is there or not?” you snap, losing your patience. “He’s not the one giving the presentation. He’ll just be standing behind the curtain, stealing all the free merch, and–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” your dad cuts you off. “I want you to call me again tomorrow. We’ll run over your presentation again–”

“I’ll think about it.” You slam the handset on the receiver, a satisfying motion that could not be accomplished with modern telephonic devices. You try not to give the upcoming presentation any more thought–it was already stressing you out enough. Maybe an hour in the gym would take your mind off things. 

Your decision made, you step away from your desk to your private walk-in closet, rifling through the selection of workout clothes hanging there. All of them were custom-cut to your exact body dimensions to ensure the best fit and look. Although you were no professional athlete, you treated yourself as if you were one (and you certainly looked the part). 

But right now, you couldn’t care less what you looked like or what you were wearing as you grabbed the first set of clothes you could reach, slipping them on and grabbing your Louis Vuitton gym bag, monogrammed with your initials. You lightly jog out of your office, moving fast enough that people will think you’re in a rush and not stop you. The gym is on the tenth floor of the building, and because it’s just after lunch, most people are back at their desks. But you set your own schedule, so you’re happy to find that it isn’t too crowded and you quickly get warmed up before you start lifting.

In between sets, you check your phone, a bad habit that doesn’t exist when you’re with your training coach, but he’s not around to scold you, so you can do as you please. In the tracking app, Natasha’s red dot blinks in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, hardly three miles away from your current location in Envy Industries. 

She was hanging out at Black Widow Corporation headquarters, just where you expected her to be. She had an unsurprisingly predictable schedule, splitting her time just between work and home, which you discovered was in an apartment just a few blocks down the street from yours. You wonder if she lived on her own or with her father, who was likely paying for her housing either way. 

Natasha was not quite the self-made woman that you were. Her work was significantly more behind the scenes, which was one reason why you had never heard of her before. Alexei Shostakov was the only name you associated with Black Widow Corp. But you had done your own digging on her and her family the past few days. There was frustratingly little about Natasha and you were ready to hire a private investigator due to your lack of results. 

All you had learned was that she had graduated magna cum laude from Virginia Tech with a degree in economics, where she also held a brief internship at the university’s infamous Gamma Lab before it was shut down after the sudden death of its lead researcher. You assumed she had gone immediately to work for Black Widow Corp after her graduation; there was no other work history for her anywhere. No social media, no public interviews. This woman fascinated you more and more. 

After a final set of deadlifts, you re-rack all the weights because you’re not that much of a heathen and check your phone again. Natasha is no longer at Black Widow Corp, her red dot moving steadily through 86th Street that cut through Central Park. Your heart rate jumps, and not because of your workout. You sit down on a bench to steady yourself, watching as the red dot continues through Central Park. When she turns right on Park Avenue, you know exactly where she’s heading.

Hopefully you could intercept her first.

***********************************************************************

“Where are you going?” 

Natasha curses under her breath as she turns around to see Yelena standing in the lobby, her arms crossed over her chest like a scorned mother catching her child sneaking out of the house.

“What?” Natasha rounds on her sister, annoyed that she’s been watching her like a hawk.

“The board of directors meeting starts in seven minutes,” Yelena says, and Natasha curses under her breath because she forgot all about that.

“Dad can handle it without me,” Natasha replies, eager to get the heat off of her as soon as she can.

“They’ll be talking about CES,” Yelena reminds her, referencing the important annual show where the biggest tech companies came together in Vegas to reveal their newest inventions and products.

“You’re not going to CES,” Natasha points out, surprised her sister even knows its proper name. Since the company was going to fall on her shoulders once their father stepped down, Natasha had spent almost the entirety of her adult life learning, training, and breathing business and technology. Yelena had been able to pursue her own hopes and dreams, starting in the private security field until she had enough experience (and enough of Dad’s money) to start her own company. She was happy and thriving, something Natasha was endlessly jealous of.

Yelena had never experienced the pressure of managing billions of dollars in and out the door. She didn’t know what it was like to fight off every insecure man who couldn’t bear to do a business deal with a woman. She hadn’t spent hundreds of hours trying to learn coding languages and complicated mathematics and equations on her own. Yelena didn’t understand what Natasha had spared her from, and Natasha was afraid she would never be grateful for it.

“Yes, but you’re going to CES,” Yelena says.

“You’re not my babysitter,” Natasha snaps, turning away and marching towards the door. 

“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”

“What?” Natasha stops. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“That CEO you’re in love with.”

“Excuse me?” But Natasha’s face is flaming red as she struts over to confront her sister. “I am not in love with anyone. You know that.”

“You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with that CEO.”

“No, I’m not.”

Yelena smirks. “I own a private security company, sestra. You don’t think I know my own sister’s whereabouts and who she’s with?”

Natasha’s heart sinks, but she tries not to let it show. “Why can’t you ever just mind your own fucking business?” she growls, immediately regretting the harshness of her words when she sees her sister’s face fall. But she’s too proud to take it back.

“I don’t think it’s safe if you keep seeing her,” Yelena says. “And you don’t know what it could do for the company–”

“Why do you care about the company so much all of a sudden?” Natasha counters. “Dad’s not giving it to you when he steps down.”

“I don’t want it,” Yelena replies, although she looks hurt. “But to be quite honest, I don’t like what it’s turning you into.”

“Which is what?”

“This!” Yelena waves her arms at Natasha frantically. “It’s always ‘Black Widow this, Black Widow that.’ You don’t have any hobbies anymore. You never eat dinner with the rest of the family. You don’t go out unless it’s to see that CEO–”

Natasha interrupts her with a huff. “You wouldn’t understand, Yelena,” she says, trying a different approach and maintaining complete calm. “You can just stay holed up in your one-windowed office to spy on people and let the real adults go out in the real world and handle real shit.” With that, she spins on her heel and storms out of the building. 

***********************************************************************

“Why are you into shooting all of a sudden? Have you ever even held a gun before?” Tony asks, staring at you with a dropped jaw.

You shrug. “I need some new hobbies,” you lie.

“You’re not going to shoot someone with it, are you?” he half-jokes, his chuckle quickly dying up when you don’t laugh with him.

“No, of course not,” you mumble unconvincingly.

“Okay, well, when do you need the gun by?” he asks.

“How fast does Bucky work?”

Tony shrugs. “If I call him now, he can have one to me by the end of the day.”

“Okay.” The sooner the better, because it gave you less time to back out of your plan. “That works.”

“So, are we going big-game hunting in Africa this summer?” Tony asks, giving you a sharp nudge before starting his car.

“Maybe, maybe…” But you have a different target in mind.

The gun is surprisingly heavy, oily, and unfamiliar in your palm. Bucky had gone over the four “rules” of gun handling, which shocked you that he even knew:

Treat every gun like it was loaded

Don’t point it at something you aren’t willing to shoot.

Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.

Be mindful of your target and what’s around it.

He had given you a full box of ammo for “good luck” too, before jumping back into his car and driving away faster than you could read his license plate.

Currently, you sit in the darkness of your apartment, weighing the gun in your hand. Your heart is beating so hard against your ribcage you swear you can hear it. 

You check your phone. Natasha’s just parked her car in the parking garage. It should only take her a few minutes to ride the elevator up. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your workout clothes, worried that she would arrive at your apartment before you did, but you had just barely made it on time.

Her red dot blinks in place on your screen. She’s in the elevator.

Your eyes flit to the front door, the gun feeling even heavier in your hand. 

The seconds drag on. 

You hold your breath for as long as you can between inhalations, heart pounding, ears straining for any sound of movement outside your apartment door.

Beep, beep.

A key card–yours–registers at the door lock. The handle pushes down from the outside and you snap to attention. 

Don’t miss, you tell yourself.

The door parts open, almost hesitantly, like your uninvited intruder is suddenly unsure of themselves. In the darkness, you see a figure slip through the door and close it behind her. Her body shape gives her away immediately. The thick thighs in black jeans, the curve of her hips leading up to her narrow waist, the fullness of her bosom stretching out the tight shirt she’s wearing.

When Natasha steps into the light, she freezes when she sees you sitting at the kitchen table, gun cocked in her direction.

“It’s about time you showed up,” you greet. “Building security didn’t question you when you used my key card to get in?”

“Clearly not,” Natasha says, her stance tense and wary.

“Come sit down. We should talk,” you invite, gesturing with the gun and breaking Bucky’s rule number one. Natasha stiffly walks towards you, her face an impassive shadow. You’ve never seen her genuinely scared before and it delights you that for once, you have the upper hand on her. You kick out a chair and she sits next to you. 

“Didn’t expect this, did you?” you ask. “Probably thought you could just waltz right in here and steal more of my shit?”

“Y/N–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re tired of listening to her excuses. You rest the gun on the table. “Is Black Widow going to CES?”

“Yes,” she says. “Like we do every year–”

“Well, there’s going to be some changes this year,” you interrupt. “Get your phone out. Call your dad. Black Widow Corp is going to be a no-show this year.”

Natasha balks. “That…That won’t be possible.”

You pick the gun back up and point it at her, breaking rule number two. “Then make it possible.”

“You won’t shoot me.”

“You don’t think this is real?” You point the gun at the table. Rule number three. You pull the trigger. Rule number four. The gun bucks in your hand, the blast reverberating around your apartment with enough power to rattle your teeth. Natasha flinches even though you hadn’t aimed anywhere near her. “No one can hear us,” you say with a chuckle. “I had the apartment soundproofed years ago to stop the neighbors from complaining.” 

She stares at the gun.

“Take your phone out now. And call your dad.” You hope you don’t have to ask again.

With shaking hands, she finally obeys, placing her phone on the table. “Put it on speakerphone,” you demand. Natasha presses a few buttons and you hear the dial-up tone.

“Privet, doch',” Alexei booms.

“English,” you hiss.

“Hi, Dad,” Natasha says, side-eyeing you uncertainly. “We, uh…We need to talk about CES.”

“Good, I just got out of the meeting with the board–”

“Black Widow can’t show up this year.”

Alexei’s surprise is palpable. “What, Natasha? What are you talking about?”

“We need to call off our appearance,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just for this year. We’ll go again next year like we normally do–”

“What’s wrong with this year?” Alexei asks.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes begging. You shake the gun to remind her you’re serious. “I…uh…I don’t think our tech is ready for the show,” she says. “You know how disastrous it can be if we unveil something that isn’t completely ready.”

“But we’ve been working on Project Transformer for months, Natasha. It’s plenty ready–”

“No. Dad, please.” She grits her teeth. “I was looking through the code last night with the engineers. There’s a bug in the programming. It’s going to take at least a few weeks to smooth out. We can’t debut right now, Dad.”

Alexei curses in Russian. “Shit. The board really liked our presentation.”

“I know.”

“I wish you would have told me earlier.”

“I know,” Natasha repeats. “But we only just discovered it this week.” 

There is more silence, punctuated by Russian grumblings from Alexei. “Okay, okay. I’ll make a few calls. Too bad we’ll be losing out on our reservation fee too.”

“It’s a small price to pay.” Natasha’s eyes dart to you again. “Sorry for all the trouble, Dad.”

“Where are you?” Alexei asks. “We missed you at the meeting.”

“I’m out.”

“Will you come to dinner tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. Proshchay, dorogaya.”

“Bye, Dad.” Alexei hangs up first.

You slowly clap your hands. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” Your chest swells with pride at your achievement. Maybe now she would have more respect for you. You know she only saw you as a piece of meat. But you were much, much more than that.

“Fuck you,” Natasha spits.

“Oh, are we still doing that?” You put the gun down on the table, this time facing it away from her. You part your legs slightly, inviting her between them. Natasha glares at you with emerald daggered eyes. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you say, your voice deepening. “I got what I wanted today. It’s only fair you don’t leave here empty-handed too.”

Natasha shoots up and marches over to you. For a second, you think she’s going to hit you, but instead she straddles your lap and kisses you so hard you’re sure she’s bruised your lips. The ferocity is both frightening and arousing as she tears off your workout shirt and shorts. She palms at your left breast roughly, sinking her nails into your abs and dragging them down to your belly button. You groan into her mouth when she bites your bottom lip. She’s never been this aggressive with you before, but you know she’s taking out her frustration on you.

And you absolutely love it.

“Now that I’m done fucking with your company, you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk?” you whisper, shoving your bare thigh between her legs. The friction from her jeans burns your skin, but you hardly register the pain. 

“You’ll have to carry me out,” Natasha says, trailing her fingers down the vein on your bicep.

“Deal.” You kiss her again, slipping your muscular arms under her thighs and standing up with her. You carry her to your bed, leaving her to undress while you grab your strap from its drawer and slip it over your legs. When you turn back, she’s shimmying off her lacy black panties and the feral urge to keep your promise overrides all your senses. 

You pick her back up and she hooks her legs around your waist, her arms circling your neck. She presses her naked chest against yours, both of you moaning in unison when your nipples brush together. You walk with her until Natasha’s back bumps into the wall, shifting her weight off your arms to the wall. You maneuver your right hand to grab onto your strap, lining it up with Natasha’s center. 

“Are you ready for me?” you ask, rubbing the tip of your cock over her soaking entrance. Natasha’s whines at your teasing, her fingers tangling in your hair and jerking at your roots painfully. 

“Fucking ruin me,” she begs.

You slam your hips forward, burying your entire cock in her in one move. Natasha screams, tearing her nails down your back. Your big hands grip onto her waist to hold her in place as you thrust into her tight heat, your abs flexing and tensing. Natasha’s body rolls with yours, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the perfect column of her neck to you. You lean forward to decorate it with your marks, so every time she undresses for the next week, she’ll be reminded of you.

The only item of “clothing” she still wears is a thin silver necklace with a rectangular charm hanging from the chain. It bounces in the hollow of her throat every time you thrust into her.

“Y/N, oh, Y/N,” Natasha chants, music to your ears as you keep your relentless pace. Your thighs, already spent from your gym session, are absolutely on fire now, so you need her to finish quickly before you drop her. You shift the angle of your hips, bumping the top of your cock against her clit with every stroke. Natasha squirms and moans, trying to find a rhythm with you, but she’s so close she can’t match you at all. 

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum, baby,” you pant. 

“Soon,” she moans. “Go harder. Don’t stop.”

You’re afraid you’re going to break her with how hard you’re thrusting into her. But finally, her body tenses in your hands and you know she’s finished all over your cock. You’re grateful to slow your thrusts as she comes down from her high, your entire body sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. You slip your arms under her quivering thighs and stumble back to the bed, collapsing onto it with your legs hanging off the edge, Natasha panting on top of you. 

You’re not sure who’s more exhausted, you or her. You lay there unmoving, trying to catch your breath, which Natasha does before you. She sits up, slowly pulling your cock out of her and crawling up your body to kiss you messily. Her tongue slips into your mouth, but you’re too tired to return her fervor very much. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I too much for you?” she teases, cupping your chest and pinching your nipples. 

“No, just give me a minute,” you grumble. It was rare to meet someone with stamina like hers. And as much as you prided yourself on yours, you feel like you may have met your match with Natasha Romanoff. Your arms and chest are covered in her scratch marks, and your back still stings a little. Natasha traces the scratches gently.

“Mine,” she murmurs.

“Hmm?” you grunt, not sure if you heard her correctly.

She props herself up on your chest to look at you. “I can give you a minute,” she purrs, her voice becoming husky and seductive. Natasha slides down your body, resting her knees on the floor and tugging the harness of your strap down your legs. You can hardly lift your hips high enough off the bed to help her, embarrassed by how tired you are. Natasha grabs your calves to lift your feet up one at a time to remove the harness and throw it to the side. She rubs her hand  across your defined abdomen, stoking the fire in your belly again.

“Don’t move, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Huh?” You lift your head high enough to see Natasha’s head between your legs, her mouth lowering onto you. It’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shoots through your core and you moan loudly in appreciation. Natasha makes eye contact with you as she slips her tongue into you, smiling as you pant and squirm. 

“Oh, God. Fuck me,” you gasp, dropping your head back on the bed. Your hands claw at the sheets as her tongue explores your walls. Natasha pushes apart your muscular thighs to make more room for her, pushing so deep into you her nose bumps against you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe evenly, arching your lower back off the bed in a silent plea for more. 

Natasha eats you out like she’d been starving for a week, her tongue alternating between swirling around your throbbing clit and pushing through your clenching walls.

You finally find the strength to lift your right leg, twisting it sideways at the knee and hooking it around the back of Natasha’s head, pressing your calf against her scalp and dragging her closer. You reach down with your hand to tangle it in Natasha’s flaming red hair, pushing her down so she isn’t tempted to pull away right when you reach the edge of release. 

“Nat,” you whine. “Please, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Natasha hums against you, the vibrations finally causing you to lose control. Your entire body goes limp as Natasha cleans up all the slick between your legs, then climbs back up to rest on you like you’re her personal pillow.

“Gimme a kiss,” you mumble and Natasha presses her lips to yours obediently. She tucks her head in the crook of your collarbone and you stroke her hair absently. “If I fall asleep, are you gonna leave again before I wake up?” you ask, your voice sounding small. 

“Only if you want me to,” Natasha murmurs. 

“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

“Then don’t,” Natasha says. “Because I was thinking about it too, and…I think we should go public.”

“Public? Like us being…” You can’t even finish your own sentence.

“Mhmm.” Natasha nods against your chest.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” you scoff.

“No, I’m fucking you.”

“And you’re done. Right?” Your eyebrows scrunch together at the dual meaning of your words. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “At the very least, you owe me fifteen-billion-dollars before we can go public about anything,” you say, referencing the amount your company lost in the last month when Black Widow Corp pulled the rug out from under your feet.  

“Done.” Natasha searches around your bed for her phone. “What’s your bank account number?” 

“What are you doing? Seriously.” You’re a little lost now. 

“Well, our dads spent all their time fighting each other,” she says.

“Not fucking?” you joke.

“I can’t confirm that,” she says with a smirk. “But I was thinking about it. And I know Envy hasn’t been doing so well lately–”

“Because you sabotaged our contracts and stole our ideas,” you remind her.

Again, Natasha does not confirm nor deny this fact. “But what if instead of competing, we…helped each other out?”

“Like a collaboration?” you ask. Your father had specifically warned you against any kind of “collaboration” work with another company. You weren’t running a YouTube channel. You had a multibillion-dollar business. It was your responsibility to look out for the well-being of your company and your company only, damn philanthropic endeavors, personal favors, and relationships.

“We can work something out,” Natasha insists.

“Did you go through all of this just to ask me that?” you ask.

“No.” Now, Natasha looks away from you. “I mean, at first, yes. I thought you would just be a hot one-night stand. And yes, you were–” You raise an eyebrow. “–But you’re also a lot more than that.” Validation burns through your veins to hear this. “You’re smart, you know the tech, and you know how to run a business. And you’re the hottest CEO in the country and the best person who’s ever taken me to bed,” Natasha says. You think you’re going to combust at the praise. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about us. And what we could accomplish together.”

It takes a few seconds to let her words process. “I don’t know how this could work,” you say, the logical side of you taking over for once. “We’re not regular people, Nat. The future of this country is literally in our hands. The public watches our every move and criticizes every decision we make. People like us need whole PR teams to manage their relationships.”

“Fuck the PR teams,” Natasha says. “If we like each other, then why can’t we be together?”

It had been years since you had publicly been in a relationship with someone. After all, it was so much simpler to cycle through partners and not have to worry about commitment or any long-term decisions. But deep down, you were cripplingly lonely and terrified you wouldn’t be able to find someone who would settle with you. 

Because truth be told, your lifestyle was not for many. Most people couldn’t handle the pressure you were subjected to every day. The never-ending torrents of judgment. The borderline-criminal way you were stalked by reporters and paparazzi. The unreal expectations you were held to by people you’d never even met.

But out of all the people you had ever been with, Natasha Romanoff was the one with the best chance of understanding all that. She knew what she was getting herself into, because your life would be her reality the day her father passed on the company. Of course it wouldn’t hurt her to get some practice beforehand.

“I want you to be mine,” Natasha says suddenly. She reaches up to her neck, her fingers brushing the hickeys you left there, before unclipping the silver necklace. She puts it around yours, flipping the charm around so you can see that it reads “Natasha.”

“Baby…” You didn’t even care what your dad’s reaction to hearing the news would be. How would the public react? The consumers? The shareholders? At your level, it was unavoidable crossing the line between professional and personal interests. People would either cheer you on or vow to never use another Envy product again.

But Envy had been tanking ever since you took the helm. Maybe this was what you needed to bounce back…courtesy of the same woman who ruined you in the first place. The math seemed to add up–Natasha would cancel out herself, wouldn’t she?

Natasha interlaces her fingers with yours, distracting your thinking. “We could be the most powerful couple in the tech industry. In the world,” she says. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Yes,” you sigh, although that’s not really the truth. There was one thing you wanted more than power, money, and fame.

“Then don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” She squeezes your fingers. “With me, you’ll have everything you want and more.”

A rush of emotions suddenly overwhelms you–fear, annoyance, love, envy, and venom. You would kick yourself in the head if you missed out on the chance to be with Natasha, but you also weren’t entirely convinced this was the right move. 

“Y/N.” The way she says your voice is desperate and pleading, like she too can’t be without you.

“Okay.” You make up your mind in an instant. “Okay, baby. Let’s do it.”

Natasha beams, snuggling closer to you. The two of you say nothing further, and her steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep. Natasha holds onto you even as she feels your body relax under her. She turns her head to look at the gun you left on the table, wondering what it would feel like in her hand, to hold against your head.

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

AN: These two are for real going to be the death of me. 😩

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

[petew21-blog]

Like father like son, Part 1

Father P.O.V.

My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.

If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.

After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.

On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"

Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you

We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard

We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.

We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.

And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.

I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.

I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess

I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.

I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now

I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.

I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.

Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.

I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.

It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.

What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all

I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me

"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"

"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"

"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"

The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on

One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe

Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."

And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.

Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her

A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you

#body swap #body switch #male body swap #gay to straight #father and son

[nnight-dances]

EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?" 

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences. 

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall. 

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't. 

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later. 

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room. 

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally. 

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well." 

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set." 

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away. 

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him. 

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands. 

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep. 

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model. 

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room. 

– 

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away. 

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with. 

nana: another stupid article :( 

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad. 

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years. 

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run. 

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream. 

– 

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar. 

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually." 

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye. 

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?" 

– 

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends. 

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question. 

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?" 

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go. 

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it. 

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!" 

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter. 

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again. 

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system. 

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder. 

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?" 

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more. 

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand. 

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right." 

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?" 

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind. 

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here." 

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case. 

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough. 

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why. 

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead. 

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you." 

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?" 

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid." 

"of course she was into you," you mumble. 

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. 

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right." 

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?" 

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly. 

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face. 

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it." 

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you." 

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight." 

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you." 

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead. 

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you." 

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words. 

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded. 

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine." 

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love." 

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy." 

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth. 

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs. 

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me." 

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song." 

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name. 

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!" 

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–" 

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?" 

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home." 

#jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan svt #svt fics #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan fics #yoon jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan seventeen #seventeen fics #seventeen imagine #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #jeonghan angst #kpop fic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

[penkura]

Everybody Knows

Summary: You want to keep it a secret as long as you can, but living on a pirate ship makes that difficult.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of vomiting, slight food aversions, loving husband Sanji (not a warning tbh haha)

Note: Everyone, hi!! I wrote this before I ever finished 'knowing', and I just couldn't help but to share it here now that that's completed! I loved writing this so much, and yes, this is one of the two one-shots that are connected to 'knowing'! I'll post the second next week most likely! This also takes place about four to five years after the end of 'knowing'! I hope you all will enjoy this!!

“Sanji, look, look!! It’s positive!”

“Wait. No way, really?!”

Your smiling and giggling while showing off the positive pregnancy test ended up being contagious, Sanji grinning when he saw it as he wrapped you in a tight hug and spun you just a little. He couldn’t do it too much after all! You’d just found you were likely carrying a precious blessing, he didn’t want to make you dizzy or sick or anything!

It’d been nearly four years since your wedding on the Thousand Sunny after the events in Wano, and just about two years since you decided to start trying for a baby, but now! Now you were pregnant! Finally, after what felt like so much longer than it should have been. You hadn’t told anyone that you two were even thinking about having a baby, you wanted to keep it as secret as possible, and it taking almost two years to even get to the point of a positive test was definitely keeping it secret.

Honestly, when you’d told him you wanted to try having a baby, Sanji was ecstatic and nervous all at the same time. Of course he wanted to be a dad, he’d thought about it for so long, especially once you two married. But, with the life of a pirate, it couldn’t be that safe, could it? Obviously others had done it, Gol D. Roger had kids on his ship, Whitebeard did too, and Big Mom had all her kids (don’t remind him of that though, poor man thought he’d never see you again). The world had become moderately safer, people weren’t as terrified of pirates anymore, specifically your crew with how much you had helped others.

When you did tell him, you had made sure no one else was around and that it was about bedtime for most of the crew. You’d stay in the kitchen with Sanji while he finished off the dishes, telling you what he was thinking about cooking the next day for meals most nights, and that was the perfect time. A few of your crewmates came through to wish you both goodnight. Nami had done so early so she could check the map and log pose, making sure you were heading in the right direction. Zoro had the first night shift and had, like always, just requested someone bring him some sake after a while. Brook had chosen to spend some time playing his violin on the deck, Franky was likely in his workshop you thought. Robin came and said goodnight a bit later, saying she’d be joining Zoro in the crow’s nest for a bit with her latest book. You hadn’t been entirely sure about where Jimbei was at first, then heard him on the deck with Brook. Luffy and Usopp had tried to sneak in with Chopper to get a late night snack, making you giggle softly when you saw them come in the door as quietly as they could, before Sanji threw bread at them and chased them out, shouting “that’s all you get! The kitchen is now closed, goodnight unless you want to work!”

Hearing your giggle made Sanji turn back and smile at you, his lovely wife! He still couldn’t believe you two were married some days, just about two years at this point. Before he even started on the dishes, he stopped and gave you a kiss on the top of your head, saying “Once I’m done with the dishes we can head to bed, okay?”

“Sure!”

You tried to keep your focus on your own book while he worked, but your thoughts kept jumping around. You started one thought and lost it, wondering what it was before it came back, and your face heated up at the thought you’d been having the last few weeks anytime you were alone with your dear husband. Every time you’d try and bring the subject of having a baby up to Sanji, someone would interrupt and you’d back down, nervous they’d hear and it would spread around the ship before you even started trying.

You just wanted to be a mom on top of being a pirate, nothing more to it. And you knew Sanji would be an amazing father. No matter how his biological father was, Sanji would be different, he’d had Zeff as his chosen father, his real father. You knew he would be okay.

When Brook started to play what sounded like a familiar lullaby from the East Blue, it made you smile. You checked around quickly to make sure the coast was clear, before getting up from your spot at the table and walking over to Sanji, giving him a hug from behind that made him greet you.

“Sanji~?”

He hummed a bit while finishing drying another dish, “Yes, darling? What can I do for you?”

Smiling just a bit and burying your face in his shirt, you quietly made your request, “I want us to have a baby.”

It was loud enough for him to hear it, nearly causing Sanji to drop the plate in his hand as he choked a bit on his cigarette. Carefully, he set the plate down before turning around and taking your face in his (still damp) hands, trying to make out if you were joking with him or not. All you did in return was smile softly, nothing but love for him in your eyes. Once he realized your smile was sincere and that’s what you really wanted, he smiled widely and nodded, kissing you all over your face.

“Of course, of course, mon amour!!” he was almost as quiet as you were, he could tell you didn’t want anyone else to hear this precious desire yet, “Absolutely, whatever you want, as many as you want!”

You giggled while he kept kissing your face and you wrapped your arms back around his shoulders. "One would be a good start."

Now, you finally had the positive test you’d been anxiously waiting for. Every other one you’d taken that came up negative frustrated both of you at times, but every time it happened, seeing how upset you were, Sanji would just hug you and say it would happen one day, he just knew it would. You’d just keep trying and praying and hoping until it did.

And finally it did. The second line on the test was faint, but you could see it. You had a positive test!

After you two had calmed down from your excitement, you decided to keep the news secret for the time being. You wanted either Chopper or a doctor at the next island to confirm that your test wasn’t a false positive before you told anyone. The ship was due to land at an island that had a large town on it the next day, so Sanji agreed on taking you to a doctor once you did, under the guise of getting some ingredients to store (of course he did need to do that shopping, but making sure you really were pregnant was top priority). You absolutely trusted Chopper as a doctor, but you knew it was likely word would spread sooner than you wanted it to, so you made the choice to go to a doctor once you docked at the next island instead.

Some of your crewmates picked up on how you two acted through the day, but didn’t think too much of it. You guys were sickeningly sweet to each other most of the time anyway, it was gross how lovey-dovey you were (to Zoro anyway). A few times you’d be doing your chores, and someone, namely Robin or Nami, would catch how Sanji, who had been handing drinks and snacks to those who wanted them, would catch you out of the corner of his eye, before quietly watching you for a moment, deciding to go over and offering to take your work off your hands. You just smiled and said he could help if he was that bored and he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead gave a smile and a nod, helping you finish your chores a little faster.

Nami noticed first how weird Sanji was acting towards you. Normally he'd be his regular self, providing her and Robin with drinks and snacks in his normal way, before going over the top to do the same for you. It made sense since you were his wife, but that day he seemed…off? Almost like something had happened to calm him down. His normal acts of treating them like queens were a bit more subdued, and then with you, the one he almost treated like a goddess, he seemed like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer that made him more gentle, soft. It was very odd.

“Hmmm, Robin? Do you think those two are being…weird?”

Robin looked up from her book just enough to see Nami watching you two again; you were playing a card game with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper, while Sanji stayed nearby just watching. This was the most they'd seen him out of the kitchen in a while, it definitely was odd.

“Sanji is being a bit more protective of her today.”

“Is [Y/N] sick or something?”

“She seems normal to me. Maybe she’s pregnant.”

Nami laughed a little louder than she intended, but it didn’t gain yours or Sanji’s attention. It did gain Luffy's, who looked over wondering what Nami was laughing about before returning his attention to your card game.

“That’d be something.”

Neither girl dared to ask you about it that day, just in case they were incorrect and said something that could be considered offensive. They didn’t even know if you two wanted to have kids in the first place, maybe you just didn’t feel well and Sanji was just being the overprotective husband to his sick wife. The last time you'd been sick he barely left your side and got some help with the cooking so he could take care of you.

When it was dinner time, you were very careful to not let anyone notice how the smell of the fish you were having was making you nauseous. When Luffy asked why you weren't having any, you made the excuse of not feeling very well, deciding to forgo the fish to keep from making yourself sick. It wasn't technically a lie, you just made it sound convincing enough that no one questioned you further.

A silly argument broke out about who would get your share since you weren't eating the fish, and it made you laugh along with Nami. Luffy and Brook both wanted it, Usopp said it should be left for the next day because maybe you'd feel up to eating it then, while Chopper tried to ask you what was wrong and you just told him your stomach was a bit upset, he said he'd give you something to help if you wanted.

You really did impress Sanji with how well you were keeping your little secret. If it weren't for your restraint, he'd have told everyone by now, he was sure of it. It was taking everything in him not to pick up a transponder snail and call Zeff to let him know the good news. He knew you'd let him as soon as it was really, truly confirmed, he was just so anxious to tell someone.

Everyone cleared out after dinner minus you and Robin, she decided to stay behind and help with clearing the table, something you normally did to spend some extra time with your husband that he greatly appreciated.

However, this time, Sanji kept trying to make you stop helping.

"[Y/N], please, sit down! Robin and I will take care of the table." Sanji really, really wanted you to sit down and take it easy. If you were pregnant, you needed rest! You might be growing a whole new person inside you! You'd need all the energy you could have over the next few months!

"Sanji, it's ok! I can help."

"[Y/N]," Robin gave you a smile as she looked between you and Sanji, "if you aren't feeling well, I don't mind helping tonight. You should go let Chopper check you though, just to be certain it's not something to be worried about."

You bit the inside of your lip, wanting to tell Robin why Sanji was being so much more protective over you, but you weren't sure if you should. You viewed her like an older sister, and knew that if you did tell her, she'd keep your secret. Robin would take any secret you told her to the grave. Instead, you looked at Sanji with a slightly pleading look that caused him to just know what you were thinking. Sanji gave you a smile and nodded, which made you smile in return.

"Robin, the only reason Sanji is like this right now is because we got a positive pregnancy test this morning."

Honestly, Robin was joking earlier when she made that suggestion to Nami, but hearing you confirm her silly thought actually made her smile even more at you.

"Really? That's wonderful!"

Nodding, you started to almost beg for her silence on the matter.

"We don't want anyone else to know yet, so I haven't gone to Chopper for real confirmation. We're going to go find a doctor on the next island tomorrow to get a blood test done."

"That's a very good idea, to make absolutely sure your test was positive."

Sanji nodded, setting a hand on your shoulder. "So…could you keep it a secret please? Just until we have it confirmed."

"Of course. Your secret is safe with me."

Robin then joined Sanji even more in telling you to sit and relax, to the point you decided to head to bed with a laugh when Sanji said he didn't mean you had to leave. All you did was kiss him and say you'd see him when he finally came to bed himself.

You took a quick shower, before changing into your pajamas and choosing to lay in bed, hair still a bit wet but you didn't care. You wanted to see that positive pregnancy test again. It still felt surreal to you that it might be happening. You might become a mother in a few months.

The two faint, pink lines were still there, you hadn't been dreaming all day.

Gosh I hope it's not a false positive…

Eventually Sanji did come to bed with you, after his own shower and with his hair still damp too. You barely even moved when he laid down next to you, setting his hand on your stomach while you kept staring at the test.

"It's so weird."

"Hmm?"

"To think that we might be having a baby. It feels weird, doesn't it?"

He nodded a bit, while you finally laid the test back down on your nightstand and turned to face your dearly loved husband with a smile.

"You might get to be a dad soon."

"And you might get to be a mom soon."

Your giggle never failed to make him smile, even more than he already was. Sanji wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, hugging you and burying his face in your hair.

"I love you…no matter what we find out next, I love you so much."

You returned his hug and sighed happily, content with where you were now. You really hoped and prayed your test was accurate, that soon you'd be parents, you'd have a baby of your own to care for and love as well.

"I love you too, Sanji."

All would be well.

+!+

"All right everyone, I have your allowances for today!"

The normal culprits of bad spending habits cheered or thanked Nami, while you gladly took your decent sum and pocketed it immediately. Of course you wanted to look for some clothes, but you had no idea how much a doctor would charge you for a test, so you hoped the allowance Nami gave to you would be enough for both.

Usually you'd join in on drawing straws to see who stayed on the ship to guard it, but before you even could take one from Usopp, Sanji took your hand and told everyone you had decided you were going with him to get groceries this time. Not a single one of your crewmates questioned it, the rest of them drawing straws and Zoro and Jimbei being the lucky ones to stay on the Sunny. Once everything was settled, the rest of you left the ship and broke off in different directions. You stopped a local and quietly asked her where a doctor or women's clinic was, and she was kind enough to lead you and Sanji there.

After the kind older woman left you, the two of you didn't go inside yet. Your nerves had picked up and Sanji could tell. He felt the same way, you both had the same thought running through heads.

What if it was a false positive? What if all your hopes you'd had over the last 24 hours were about to be dashed and you weren't really going to have a baby?

Despite all the fears and worries, Sanji held your hand just a bit tighter and it brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at him.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

You thought for a second, then shook your head. "It's ok, I can go. You need to go grocery shopping so we're back on the ship at the meeting time."

Although he really did want to go with you, Sanji nodded and gave you a tight hug, kissing your forehead. "No matter what they say, I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do!" You laughed a bit, leaning up to give your sweet husband a kiss. "I love you too, and I know it's all gonna be okay. Meet you here in about an hour?"

Sanji nodded, letting you go but letting his fingers linger on yours as you turned and walked into the clinic. He stayed for a few minutes, before turning to go find the shopping district and get his grocery shopping done by the hour time was up, saying silent prayers that the news you brought back would be good.

+!+

The hour you had agreed on had passed, Sanji was waiting for you outside the clinic nervously. He'd honestly expected you to be outside and waiting for him already, but maybe something was wrong? Did something happen that was keeping you there longer than you expected? He prayed it wasn't something along the lines of you getting your pregnancy confirmed but being told you'd lost the baby already. That would devastate both of you after the time you'd had even just trying to get pregnant.

No, no, don't even think that. Everything is fine.

Every time someone exited the clinic and it wasn't you, Sanji got even more anxious, wishing you'd finally step out. He'd nearly gone through another two cigarettes while waiting, knowing you'd be upset with him over it but he couldn't help it. The nicotine was at least calming his nerves somewhat.

I'll have to apologize to [Y/N] later.

Finally, after another almost twenty minutes, you left the clinic and his nerves calmed a bit more but his heart started racing, wondering what you were going to tell him. You hadn't even looked up from whatever papers you had been given, you were still reading them it looked like. But once you did and saw Sanji was waiting for you, you gave him the brightest smile he thought he'd ever seen from you, even brighter than the one you had when you two got married.

"Sanji!" You ran to him and threw your arms around him, causing him to do the same. He tried to ask you what the doctor said but the words wouldn't come out, but once you pulled back from your hug, you didn't stop smiling. "It was right! We're having a baby!"

Actually hearing you confirm that your pregnancy test was positive made Sanji unbelievably happy. Even though he could feel tears starting, he smiled at you, hugging you again even tighter than before, picking you up and spinning you a bit, and telling you how happy he was. He set you back down and released you from the hug, kissing your face and thanking you for this blessing while you laughed a bit. He didn't need to thank you, not even a little bit. It was your choice and you were glad to be having a baby with him.

After one more kiss, he ended up pulling away from you with a grin, throwing his arms in the air with tears in his eyes.

"I'm gonna be a dad!!!"

+!+

Usopp and Nami were the ones to find out next. The two had been wandering the town when they came up near the clinic Sanji had dropped you off at, not thinking much about it at the time. You had a doctor on the ship, Chopper was the best one possible!

…so why was Sanji standing outside this clinic like he was waiting for something?

"What's he doing?"

"Why would I know that?"

The two were obviously confused. Had you gone inside? Were you that sick? Why didn't you tell Chopper or anyone else?? You could have stayed on the ship instead of letting Sanji drag you to town! Granted yes, he was your husband and you didn't seem to mind at all, but still. If you weren't well, you could have stayed behind and rested instead of running through the town in the few hours Nami had given you all to explore. She had just learned it would take two days for the log to reset, so you had plenty of time to explore! Honestly, sometimes Nami thought Sanji of all people could be a touch more considerate when you said you weren't feeling well.

"[Y/N] did say she had an upset stomach last night," Usopp remembered while watching Sanji light a second cigarette, "maybe they didn't want to bother Chopper and brought her here?"

"Oh come on, they have to be hiding something." Nami was trying to think what could be so important that you two would come to a random clinic on this island instead of just going to Chopper, just as you stepped out and ran to hug Sanji. The two of you were full of smiles and excitement, making her tilt her head. "What's going on?" Nami was trying so hard to hear, she was about to just discreetly walk by and eavesdrop.

"I don't know, I can't hear them." Usopp leaned in a little more, still trying to stay hidden.

The two didn't need to wait any longer to know what you two were saying, as Sanji's outburst of shouting that he was going to be a dad told them everything and Nami gasped while Usopp's jaw dropped almost to the ground.

"She's pregnant!!"

"Did…did they plan that?!"

"Who cares, Usopp! There's gonna be a baby on the ship soon!"

The two were conflicted on if they should confront you now or wait until you told everyone, while they were deciding you and Sanji had started walking back towards the farmer's market to finish the grocery shopping, neither Nami or Usopp noticing until she went to shout for the two of you.

"They're gone! Dang it!"

"Well…I bet they'll tell us later, Nami."

"If they don't," Nami's berri eyes didn't get past Usopp, "I can try offering them some baby funds, at an interest."

"Nothing gets by you."

+!+

Getting back to the ship, you helped Sanji put away all the groceries (despite him telling, begging you to rest), before putting away the very few clothes you ended up purchasing. After paying for your appointment and the prenatal vitamins they gave you, your allowance was about half gone, but you were able to find a few cute clothes you could wear now and some pieces to put away for later on. It was a bit difficult for you to find some maternity clothing items, but you did find some cute pieces! Even more difficult was keeping those pieces hidden when you were showing the other items to Nami, Robin, and Chopper. You made the excuse that they were more intimate items which flew over Chopper's head but made Nami pull a face while Robin laughed a bit.

Nami did keep pestering you about what you did and how you spent all your money this time, but it wasn't that weird to you, she normally asked if anyone had anything left from what she gave them, and if they wanted her to put it away for the next island stop. You almost, almost told her, but just claimed your clothes were more expensive than expected.

Robin was the only person who you pulled aside and confirmed you were pregnant to. She gave you a hug and congratulated you properly, sitting with you in the room you shared with Sanji to get a little more information from you.

You'd told her that yes, this was planned, about two years later than you had originally hoped. You were nine weeks along, and intending to keep it a secret from everyone else until your first trimester was over just to be safe. The doctor you saw had said everything looked good so far, and it gave you immense relief to hear that.

Your plan was to stay on the ship the next day and tell Chopper so he could start to prepare for whatever he'd need to do to help you through your pregnancy and delivery, but you wanted to wait and tell everyone else once you passed the twelve week mark. Robin said she'd absolutely help as well, she even gave you a few books on pregnancy that you and Sanji could read through.

The rest of the day, Nami and Usopp wondered if you or Sanji were going to say anything about your having a baby. Not one word slipped from either of you, and it was starting to frustrate both of them. At dinner you were able to eat, Sanji quickly catching on that fish was making you nauseous, so he ended up making some meat instead which greatly pleased your captain.

"Sanji!! Seconds!" Luffy whined a bit and Sanji told him to hold on while he got a bit more ready, making Luffy lean over on you, "[Y/N]~~~ can I have some of yours??"

"No, Luffy!" Sanji looked over his shoulder and set a small glare on him, "[Y/N] needs her dinner!"

"But she always shares it with me~!"

"She can't right now!"

"Why not???"

"Because she–"

"--I'm starving after being sick yesterday!"

You nodded, eyes slightly wide as you realized Sanji was that close to revealing your pregnancy earlier than planned. He covered his mouth when you shouted over the two, turning back to the stove and cursing at himself.

Almost blew it, holy crap.

"But I want meeeeeaaaaat."

"You can have some vegetables, Luffy."

Luffy made a face and decided it wasn't worth it, he'd wait for more meat to be cooked. Franky was willing to share with him though, which made your captain happy at least. Once you had finished eating, you took your plate to the sink and stopped to give Sanji a hug, he whispered sorry to you, but you just shook your head, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“No worries, my dear.”

“Yohohoho, you two are so loving even with a baby on the way!”

Everything went silent. Your crewmates all stopped eating, the sound of silverware on plates was quieted as they stopped to stare at you with widened eyes, and both you and Sanji went completely stiff, you started feeling ill.

How the hell did Brook know?! You hadn’t told anyone apart from Robin, and were fairly certain Sanji didn’t tell anyone after you left him alone earlier to start on dinner. Nami had been a little persistent with you, asking you a lot of questions earlier but you didn’t tell her anything, and you didn’t know at the time that Zoro had even questioned Sanji about why he wasn’t smoking as much. Usopp knew Sanji was close to shouting at Luffy that you were pregnant, and now Chopper realized you feeling nauseous last night made more sense. Robin smiled a bit since she already knew, and Franky hadn’t thought to question anything yesterday or today, honestly thinking you were sick and Sanji was just trying to quit smoking. Jimbei had noticed you feeling sick earlier than anyone, but assumed you’d just caught something since you all were constantly out at sea and stopping at various islands, you could have picked up any kind of illness.

Luffy never questioned a thing, but hearing Brook’s statement made him break into a large grin.

“You guys are having a baby?!”

Your nausea was back, and Sanji could see it in how pale your face was becoming as you, back still turned to the table, tried to figure out whether to confirm, deny, or start asking how Brook knew.

“I…” You felt worse while trying to decide what to say, covering your mouth with your hand.

“[Y/N]? Are you–”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You pulled away from Sanji and ran out of the kitchen with your hand still over your mouth, making several of your crewmates yell for you, while Robin had run after you. Sanji almost ran after you as well, before realizing he needed an answer from a certain musician first. He set a glare on Brook that made him shudder.

“You. Who the hell told you that?!”

Brook continued to shudder while everyone else couldn’t believe the glare Sanji was giving him.

“T-t-the test was still in the bathroom trash this morning! I-i-it was only n-natural for me to assume!”

“Damn it,” Sanji pulled at his bangs, cursing himself for not suggesting you threw that in the kitchen trash or hid it under your bed until you were ready to tell people, and really wishing he could light a cigarette right then, “Fine, all right?! We’re having a baby! She’s nine weeks and we were gonna tell you all once she was past the first trimester, but guess everyone knows now!”

“Sanji–”

“You guys take care of putting the food away and the dishes, I’m going to go comfort my pregnant wife!”

Sanji threw down his apron and ran out of the kitchen after you and Robin, causing Nami to shout for him, but she didn’t follow him.

Everyone that was left, was completely silent, all mulling over the news that you and Sanji were going to be parents soon.

“S-so,” Brook was still a little shaky after seeing how angry Sanji was, “uh, did anyone else know?”

Nami and Usopp raised their hands, heads down. They only found out by mistake, but both felt awful at your precious secret basically being revealed against your will.  Surprising everyone though was Zoro who nodded.

“Wait, how did you know Zoro??”

“He told me earlier.”

“He what?!”

Rolling his eye a bit, Zoro nodded again while taking a drink of his sake. “I mentioned that he hadn’t been smoking and he ended up telling me. I didn’t want all that information dumped on me but he seemed like he was anxious to tell someone. I just happened to be the first person he talked to.”

That made more sense than Sanji just deciding Zoro would be the first person he told. It became quiet again, Luffy was thinking and pressing his index finger to his forehead before he finally said something.

“So…why did Sanji say they were waiting?”

“Well,” Chopper spoke up, a little shell shocked that he was going to have to take care of a pregnant woman on the ship, but a bit excited about it, “A lot of couples wait until after twelve weeks because the chance of miscarriage is higher before then. It’s never really zero, but waiting until after the first trimester is common practice, by then they’re more confident that the baby will make it.”

“Oh, I see!” Luffy started laughing after that, a grin on his face that seemed to start spreading to his crewmates as the information sunk in. “They’re gonna be awesome parents! I bet it’s a boy!”

“Oh no,” Nami shook her head with a small glare, “It’s got to be a girl, we need more girls on this ship!”

“I can make some SUPER toys for them!”

“I’ll make sure the baby and [Y/N] are both healthy!”

“Would playing lullabies for the child make up for this?”

“Imagine if the cook’s kid wants to be a swordsman.”

“I have some great stories of bravery and adventure to tell them!”

“I’m sure they’ll be great no matter what the child is or what they decide to do in the future.”

The other eight members of your crew continued discussing their own ideas of what your child would be like, working to clean up dinner, when Nami stopped and bit her lip.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” Luffy tilted his head at her as she stopped gathering the plates.

“I feel bad that she got sick because of this. We all made [Y/N] so nervous after Brook said they were having a baby. I hope she’s not too upset.”

“Even if she is,” Zoro had started to leave, but stopped to listen to Nami’s concerns, “the cook will take care of it. He’s her husband after all.”

+!+

“Can I get you some water, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you, Robin, but I’m fine at the moment.” You sighed a bit and leaned against your pillows, Robin nodding as she sat beside you on your bed. You’d completely lost your dinner after you ran off, Robin staying with you to keep your hair back and help you get back to your room until Sanji got there.

He almost burst into your shared room a few minutes later, running over and hugging you close.

“Are you all right, mon amour??”

Nodding, you just hugged him back. “I’m okay. I’m…upset, but otherwise just fine.”

"Rightfully so," Sanji nodded, stroking your hair a bit, "We've barely had time to process this and it's already out."

"How did–"

"The test was still in the bathroom trash can."

Hearing that, you realized it was your fault in the end, for not being more careful about how you disposed of the test. Whining a bit you leaned against Sanji again. "I'm an idiot. I didn't even think about someone seeing it there…"

"Hey, you're not an idiot. Anyone else would have done the same thing," Sanji leaned down just enough to kiss your forehead which made Robin smile before she took her leave, knowing he would make things right, "it didn't even cross my mind that we should've put it somewhere else."

"I should've tossed it overboard."

"I don't think any of the fish want something that's been peed on, love."

That made you burst out laughing, so hard you almost felt like you were going to be sick again but you knew you weren't. Seeing you smile and laugh made Sanji smile as well, as he crawled into bed by you and pulled you back into his arms. He was glad to see you smiling and laughing after the disaster that had been dinner. You deserved to be happy about having a baby, not stressed because it got out earlier than you had planned.

Once you calmed down, you laid there and stared at the ceiling for a bit, Sanji still holding you and rubbing your arm to help comfort you as you thought.

"I'm not that mad at Brook for bringing it up."

"I'm pissed at him."

"Sanji."

"It wasn't his secret to tell."

You sighed with a nod, turning to be face to face with your equally as upset husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I know…but now I don't feel like I have to agonize over how to tell everyone."

"I…suppose that's true…"

Thinking about the reactions you got from your crewmates, you smiled a little.

"Luffy sounded happy."

"He did, didn't he?"

"He probably thinks this means new crewmate, instead of what is essentially his niece or nephew."

Sanji laughed, nodding. "That's exactly what he thinks, I'm sure of it."

The two of you spent what felt like hours just talking about your day, the insanity of it all. Finding out you really were pregnant, that secret getting out during dinner and making your morning/evening sickness come back, and the likely reactions of your crewmates. You talked until you started dozing off, Sanji quieting his voice when he noticed you were falling asleep. Once you were asleep, he stayed at your side a few minutes longer, before deciding he needed a shower and to check the kitchen before bed.

Before he got up and left, Sanji tucked you in a bit, kissing your forehead with his hand resting on your stomach lightly.

"Sleep well. I love you both so much."

+!+

Breakfast the next morning was weirdly quiet. You'd helped Sanji get everything ready, once again despite him telling you to sit down and relax, to rest since you know, you were growing a whole new person in your womb, you needed as much energy as possible. You just ignored him, smiling and setting the table quickly as everyone else started to file in. Brook had found you earlier in the morning and apologized for the night before, which you accepted with a bright smile, telling him everything was fine.

Sanji still was angry but couldn't find it in him to glare at the skeleton anymore. If you were willing to forgive, Sanji would find a way to do that himself.

During breakfast, Luffy stood up with his drink in hand, making everyone look at him while he grinned. He wanted to toast something obviously, and everyone else raised their drinks to his.

"To Sanji and [Y/N]'s baby! Our future crewmate and niece or nephew! Hopefully nephew though!"

Everyone else laughed and shouted cheers, taking a drink, while you were fighting back tears. You hadn't fully expected all of them to be so accepting of the idea of a baby on board, but what else did you expect?

This ragtag group was your family now, your baby would have no shortage of protectors or joy in their life.

Sanji, the ever attentive husband he was, smiled just a bit seeing the happy tears in your eyes. He leaned over with a kiss to your temple, whispering "It's ok to cry if you're happy."

And you did, just a bit. You thanked Luffy, thanked everyone for being so wonderful and accepting of your baby, who hadn't even been born yet. Most of your crew responded in kind, telling you their thoughts of how they could help when the baby was born, offering to decorate a nursery, asking if you want a boy or girl. Everything they could think of that would help you and Sanji to settle into your roles of mom and dad in a few months. They offered to split up your chores among them, something you asked them not to do until later into your pregnancy. You still wanted some semblance of a routine before you gave birth and had to devote all your time to a tiny human.

Eventually, breakfast had its own little squabble as Luffy snatched the last piece of bacon when Usopp and Franky were reaching for it, a small brawl breaking out. It made Sanji yell for them to be careful around you, leading Franky and Usopp to drag Luffy to the deck to continue their little spat.

You laughed, leaning back in your chair and giving Sanji a smile.

"I love our weird family."

"Hmmm, so do I, mon amour."

All would be well, when you had your baby in a few short months. They would be welcomed with a flurry of love and adoration, not just from you and Sanji, but from everyone else as well.

Can't wait to meet you, little angel.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #fem!reader

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

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

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

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

Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

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

In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

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

Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

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

After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

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

Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #aim for the sky

[supercutszns]

luke castellan comforting his gf?

btw i love ur work 💗💗

wc + pairing: 0.9k, luke castellan x reader

oh i really needed this,,, if i stop writing comfort fics i’m dead i will literally write a thousand of them over and over they could be exact replicas and i would not care. sorry this took such a long time i've been in a big writing slump and i really don't like this but we have to start somewhere <3 every time someone requests a comfort fic i get very happy inside! i know this isn’t my best work like at all but hopefully it’s enough for now

Luke’s good at finding hidden things. A playing card wedged between wooden panels. A camper that always trudges at the back of the line. He can find something at its most sheltered and pluck it right back where it belongs. He’s good at that with you, too. When you wedge yourself somewhere tough, he slips through the cracks every damn time. 

You’re exhausted. You don’t know what time it is, how long you’ve been here, or how you can stop it. You just couldn’t get up this morning and your siblings let you stay sick. You imagine an alternate version of this day over and over, where you’re up and alive and contributing to something. But that’s not today. But it should be. You dream it until tears press against your eyes but you’ve got no energy to push them out. 

Feeling like this isn’t a constant occurrence, but it happens. Luke finds his way in each time, wedging open the slightest crack in your door or coming in through the window. He comes bearing gifts, he jokes. You don’t ask him where he gets the things he brings you—snacks, chocolate, plastic figurines to place on your windowsill. Menial things you like. Luke has his methods, and you know he loves you too much to reveal them. 

“Got some offerings for a goddess here,” he says when he sits down on your bed, knuckles brushing your arm. If you’re too tired to answer he never minds, he just crosses his legs and pulls your head into his lap. He smooths the hair away from your face to massage your scalp, and lets you rest. He doesn’t ask you for anything. Doesn’t force you to speak. You do when you’re ready. 

“I don’t feel good,” you admit hoarsely, blinking back tears. 

“That’s okay.” He leans down to kiss your forehead. “You just rest.”

It almost makes you laugh. “I’ve been in bed all day, Luke.”

“Mm, yeah, but you’re not really resting,” he says without judgement, letting you cling to his body as you pull yourself up to a seated position. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

You press your face into his neck so the warmth can distract you. Sometimes you say a lot, sometimes you say a little, like your mouth has separated from your body. It almost always ends with, “I feel like shit. I don’t know what to do.”

Luke is patient with you, but never overbearing. He knows you shut down when things are laid on too thick. “Want to take a nap?” He offers, threading his hands through your hair. “I can take you to my cabin, it’s cooler.”

He’s right, so you let him, and he steals you away without a fuss. The sheets smell like him, so even if you want to be alone, he still grounds you. When you fall into his bed you curl into a ball like an armadillo, like you can squeeze the rot out of your bones if you compress hard enough. Luke slots himself beside you after confirming it’s what you want, pressing kisses into your shoulder, until you turn into him and starfish over his body. “You let me know if you need anything, angel,” he murmurs, swiping your hair away from your face. “I’ve got you.” 

You manage to doze off, with his arms loose around your back and his chest underneath you. When you wake up later with a kiss of late afternoon breeze, you’re struck with the disorienting feeling of a good sleep. “Luke,” you mutter, digging your nose into his neck. 

He rouses too. “How’re you feeling?”

“Still bad.”

“Mm.” He kisses your forehead, squeezes you against him. “That’s okay. Want me to go grab you some food?” 

“Can we talk a little before?” 

“‘Course,” he says gently. He ghosts a kiss over your jaw. 

Sleep has pieced together some of the words you need, and Luke brings them out of you with hardly any effort. You have what’s probably a fragmented reason at best, but he doesn’t care. He keeps you anchored to him as long as you want him to, rubbing your back and letting you take your time. Once you’re done with the conversation, Luke diligently wipes your tears and kisses you. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Anytime,” he grins. “I mean, I do love you. Nothing else I’d rather do.”

You let your forehead rest against his. Your throat feels thick but you get the words out, “I’m worried I’m going to feel this way forever.”

It doesn’t feel good to admit. Luke’s face softens, and he presses a kiss between your brows. “You won’t,” he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “You’ve got time.”

The length of the day moving around you matters a little less when Luke shields you from it. His knuckles rub across the ridges in your back until you’re sure the texture of his shirt is imprinted on your face. 

After he goes off to bring you some food, you find the strength to go wash your face in the bathroom. It’s practically nothing. Practically. At least you settle back into his bed, the blankets aren’t as heavy as before. You don’t feel better yet, but Luke’s got plenty of time for you. (He’ll pawn his kids off to Chris. None of them need this grilled cheese anyway.)

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant @huang-the-geek @daughterofthemoons-stuff @jennapancake @idunnowhattonamethis @jarofshells @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @lauraisthebestyapper @nininehaaa

#perrie’s fics #perrie’s asks #perrie's requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan comfort #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #pjo x reader

[cjrights]

part one: over you - paige bueckers

previous ➔ next. blue masterlist

lyric: “id like to mean it when i say im over you”

pairing: paige bueckers x oc

warnings: language, small pain infliction, anxiety talk, (both for literally one second) pining, underage drinking

an: hey fam 😋 im so sorry this took so long, and this chapter is not the most interesting! i promise its going to make more sense later let me cookkk :) thank you for reading and enjoy — for context: caroline has a dog named murphy & paige is purple and calista is orange for the texting portions

word count: 2.1k

the radio softly plays as paige grips the steering wheel. i look over at her, laying against the headrest.

i hum along to the radio as i look at paige’s nose. it’s a perfect slope, and it takes everything in me to not reach out and trace it.

my eyes subconsciously move to her lips, which paige is chewing on, eyes fixated on the road.

i wonder what it would be like to… oh my god. stop it. that’s your best friend.

i wonder what’s going on inside her head. my head is really a sea of confusing thoughts. sadness, anger, confusion, exhaustion.

why is she perfect? why am i like this? get a fucking grip. hold it together.

“cali? you okay?” paige glances over at me, while still trying to pay attention while she’s driving.

“hm? yeah. im okay, just… tired.” i hope my pause wasn’t too suspicious, but paige is oblivious and nods. “i understand. do you wanna talk about it? i really wanna know what happened.”

i sigh and ball my hands into fists, stabbing my nails into my palms. this is something i do to help me calm down whenever my anxiety is high. paige doesn’t know about it.

“i… okay. let’s go back to the beginning.”

6 HOURS EARLIER

december 15th, 2022 - 7:32 PM

“i love you more.”

“no, i love you more.”

“not possible. i definitely love you more.”

“can you guys stop? im trying to eat over here, you’re gonna make me barf.” i look over from my phone to shoot daggers at my roommate nia. she has a look of absolute disgust on her face.

“king, literally bite me.” you say before blowing her a kiss. nia sticks up her middle finger, smiling condescendingly. “bitch. you know… there’s a party tonight. i think one of your little boyfriend’s minions is throwing it.”

i shake my head. “nia, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” nia rolls her eyes and flops her body off of the couch. “you did that to me. just so you know.”

i sigh. “are you proposing something? or just whining?” nia chuckles. “you're coming with me to that party tonight.”

an objection comes from the person im on the phone with. “um, she can’t! she’s very busy dog sitting murph.” i purse my lips as i run my fingers through the ball of fur laying on my lap.

“baby, not anymore. it’s my last day with murphy. carol is coming to pick him up in about 30 minutes.” i take my lower lip in between my teeth. “maybe i will go. i mean, what’s the harm?” i see my boyfriend’s eyes widen through the phone.

“HELL YEAH!” nia squeals. “this is gonna be so fun babe. screw you cole.” cole scoffs through the phone. “whatever bro. im hanging up. king, when i catch you it’s on sight.” i giggle. “yeah okay. whatever you say.” nia comments sarcastically.

as soon as i hang up, nia takes my face into her hands. “calista, we gotta get you ready. you’re gonna look so fucking hot.”

8:37 PM

“are you on aux? can i have it please?” i finger the aux cord between my pointer and middle finger, jutting my bottom lip out. nia covers her eyes. “don’t give me no puppy dog eyes. that’s not gonna work on me.”

i groan in frustration. “i don’t know your shit. im trying to get ready and pregame in peace. not in… whatever the fuck your music is.”

“bitch, my music is glorious. plus this is expanding your music taste. win-win for you cali.” nia pulls her goddess braids up into a half up half down. “what are you doing with your hair?” she throws her arms down In exasperation.

“yeah okay ni.” i cock my eyebrow. “i was just gonna leave it down. does it not look good?” i scrunch my brown curly hair, examining the minor frizz at the top.

“no, it looks good. i was just wondering because-” nia is interrupted by my phone ringing. the contact name:

“p 💗”

i smile and pick it up. “hi paige.”

“hey kiddo. i heard about the party tonight. can you please come?” she’s already begging. damn.

“im one step ahead of you. im going.”

i can hear and feel her shock through the phone.

“im sorry, what? you, calista elani hart, are going to a party? and i didn’t even have to ask you? who are you? cause this is not my cali girl.”

i snicker and lay back in my chair. nia is eyeing me menacingly. “put it on speaker.” nia mouths silently.

i roll my eyes and pull the phone away from my ear to put it on speaker.

“it’s me p. im feeling adventurous. it’s the holiday season. i feel like something’s going to happen tonight, and i am sure as hell not gonna miss it.”

paige chuckles. “okay, it’s definitely you. you’re my favorite fomo warrior. im here for you kiddo.”

“shut the fuck up paige. you’re mean. im hanging up.” paige whines. “don’t be like that. im just joking. hey, we pregaming at my place or what?” i look back over at nia. she shrugs and nods.

“yeah perfect. nia’s coming, is that cool?”

“sounds great. i know someone who really wants to see her.” nia must’ve forgotten that paige wasn’t aware of the fact she was on speaker, because she shrieks. “hold the fucking phone. who wants to see me?”

i smack my hand on my forehead and let it run down my face.

“wowwww. speaker phone? really? am i another one of your hoes?” paige sighs and pretends to start sobbing. “i thought you were different.”

“you’re annoying as fuck. we’ll see you at nine?”

“i love you too. text me when you’re on the way please.”

i hang up the phone and sigh, bringing my eyelash curler to my eyes. “what are you smiling so big for? nia sneers at me. she leans her body against my bed and crosses her arms over her chest.

“what? im not.” i laugh nervously. i definitely am. “okay girl, whatever you say.”

as im sitting at my vanity, i turn around in my chair to look at her. “stop making fun of me. it’s not nice.” “girl. im not making fun of you. i just think… hm. do you remember that one night? between you and paige?”

my stomach lurches at her comment. “nia, don’t. we were drunk. it meant nothing to paige so it means nothing to me. end of story.” nia throws up her hands. “alright. i understand. i just think y’all need to talk about it again. clear the air… you know?”

i frown. “i think that’s the exact opposite of what we need. we’re finally good again.” i lick my lips. “whatever. i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. im ready whenever you are.”

nia nods. “cool. im ready now.”

8:49 PM

On my way!

fuck

Wow! You’re so excited!

hush

LOL see you soon

9:00 PM

i walk up the long staircase to paige’s dorm room. i have my black heels in my hand, so im barefoot.

“damn what floor does blondie live on? im tired from these stairs.” i chuckle. “she lives on the top floor. it’s only 4 flights nia, you’ll live.”

“will i? im wiped as fuck. maybe i need to take my shoes off too.” i shrug as we finally reach the top floor. i start to walk down the hallway, reaching her room. i let out a shaky breath and knock on the door.

“you good? what are you so nervous for?” i look over at her. “w-what? im not nervous! im fine.” nia raises her eyebrows in a “yeah OHkay” expression.

the door swings open and a slightly shorter girl stands in front of me. she smiles and god that smile. that stupid fucking smile. she glances down at my feet. “why are your shoes off kiddo?”

i giggle. “cause. i had to walk all the way up here.” i push past her and walk into her dorm, shivering at her stare. she doesn’t notice.

paige looks nia up and down, biting her lip. “hey nia. you look good.” nia rolls her eyes practically into the back of her head. “good fucking bye. you think you’re so funny bueckers.” paige smirks. “i am funny.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night.” nia says as she walks in behind me. paige shakes her head and shuts the door, grinning.

all of a sudden a head of curly black hair walks out of the bathroom. “oh hey! you guys are right on time.”

“hey azzi.” i beam. azzi is genuinely one of the prettiest and most kind girls ive ever met. her smile lights up any room she walks in, and there’s really something about her personality that makes her so easy to be around.

“hey cali.” azzi cheeses back. “you pregaming with us?” i ask, nudging her in the shoulder. before she can answer, paige interrupts. “she’s not. she’s a baby, im not letting her drink.” she sticks her tongue out at azzi.

“wow, very mature. you should definitely be the one drinking here. and im not a baby! im 20. you’re an asshole.” nia giggles. “clock her shit az.” nia then holds up a finger to paige’s face.

“hold on, by your logic i cant drink either. but you sure as hell don’t look like my mama, so im not listening to you.” paige scoffs. “well excuse me for looking out for you two.” she steps over towards me, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “me and calista aren’t your mommies. we don’t wanna be responsible if anything happens.”

i turn a horrifying shade of crimson red.

she’s so warm. even though she’s wearing that dumb blue crop top that covers none of her skin, she’s so fucking warm. why am i thinking about this? cole. your boyfriend. you have a boyfriend calista. this is your best friend since the sandbox. hell, since diapers.

“y-yeah.” fuck. i clear my throat. nia covers her smile with her hand. “we love you guys, but we aren’t babysitting you. or bailing you out of jail.”

azzi walks over to nia and mimicks paige, slinging her arm over nia’s shoulder. for some reason, nia seems to shrink in size. “we don’t need you guys to bail us out. me and king look out for each other. isn’t that right?” she smirks at nia, who is nodding ferociously. “we will be attached at the hip. y’all do not need to worry about us.”

me and paige look at each other. i cock my eyebrow.

“you’re seeing this right?” i say with my eyes.

paige nods, and i sigh.

“whatever. paige, pour us shots please.” paige removes her arm from my shoulder, and i shudder at the loss of heat.

“yes ma’am.” paige salutes as she walks into her kitchen. i roll my eyes and follow behind.

9:48 PM

“kiddo, it’s pregame, you need to calm down.” paige puts her hand on my shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern.

i wipe my mouth after downing my 3rd shot. of tequila. “what? paigey im fine.” i brush her hand off my shoulder. “how many did y’all have?” “one.” nia and azzi say in unison, looking at each other and giggling.

i frown and look at paige. “i didn’t have any.” she holds up her keys. “unless you wanna walk?”

i purse my lips. “whatever. let’s just go please.”

1:56 AM

paige pinches the skin on the bridge of her nose, leaning against the window. she has one hand on the steering wheel. “okay cali. as much as i’m loving the replay, i was there for this part. you still haven’t explained what happened. why were you crying?”

i groan. “god, you’re so impatient. can’t you see im building to get there?”

paige rolls her eyes. “im trying to be patient. you’re my best friend and you’re obviously going through something. but can we get to the good part?”

i pull my knees to my chest in the passenger seat. “the good part? my trauma is just a story to you?” i fake pout.

“you know that’s not what i- wait. are you not buckled?” i punch her arm. “shut up. is that really what you’re concerned about right now?”

she sighs. “i guess not. go on please. and buckle? im not trying to get pulled over with a drunk unbuckled girl in my car.”

i nod. “thank you. and ill tell MY story how i want to tell it.” i put my feet on the ground and grab my seatbelt. i pull it over me and shove it into the buckle until i hear a click.

thank you for reading! with love, cj ᡣ𐭩

tags: @iminlovewithpaigebueckers @sunkissed-zegras @bueckersstrap @ijustlovepinky @xxloveralways14

#cjrights #paige bueckers #fic: blue #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers angst #friends to lovers #billie eilish #blue #true blue #born blue #fic recs #hit me hard and soft #caroline ducharme #azzi fudd

[writteninlunarlight-years]

~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~

This is a lovely commission from a moon of mine. They wish to be anonymous, but I do have a brief description of the headcanons. I would like their reactions to finding out their s/o is self-harming, how they would try to help them day to day, and what new coping strategies they would suggest/get them to try. I'd like this with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox. Romantic Lucifer, Alastor & Vox caring for Reader

TW: SELF-HARM MENTIONED, COPING SKILLS (These may not work for everyone), ANGST/FLUFF

Lucifer:

When Lucifer found you that day, he was devastated. You were so frail and small in his arms, and it hurt his soul.

He cleaned you up carefully and bandaged all your wounds. Holding you close to his chest, telling you how much you mean to him.

It was common knowledge to everyone how much he cared for you and how he compared you to the angels in heaven themselves.

He didn't leave your side for weeks, helping you through every emotion and thought that crossed your mind.

He was honestly a little overbearing, making you feel worse that he was dedicating his whole life to you.

When you brought this up with him, he calmed down on the clinginess but still routinely checked up on you.

He enlisted Charlie and Vaggie, two of the people he trusted most in the world next to you, to find better ways to help you avoid reverting to harm.

He took the learned material seriously and began helping you set up healthy routines again slowly.

He helped you with big tasks that felt way too much at the time while still giving you the independence you needed.

He made sure you two went on 'hot girl walks' once a day to help you get more vitamin D.

He conjured a whole gym area for you in the hotel after learning the endorphins in exercise would help.

If you ever had a dark day or a bad event, he would re-cling himself to you.

Even if you protested, he was right there, ready to go and assist you.

He told you daily how much he loved and cared for you and helped remind you how needed you are in this realm.

Alastor:

Alastor rarely felt broken in his human or demon life. Not often did anything shake him to his core.

The day he found you, though, near death and fading, he was a broken man indeed.

You were not allowed to leave his arms no matter how hard Charlie or other inhabitants asked him to let you be looked at by another.

He had years of wound care experience, so he took to cleaning and tending to you.

Was it mentioned that he was in complete demon form the whole time? Well, he was, and he was so angry at the world but so gentle with you.

He wasn't as clingy as Lucifer; instead, he was a silent observer, only coming when asked.

He refused to let you out of his sight, though, making sure that if you weren't physically with him, his shadow was nearby.

He basically destroyed your room by looking for anymore harmful objects. He made up for it, though, by getting you brand-new everything.

"A brand new you is refreshing, my love letting go of the bad.'

He helped you dye and cut your hair when you decided to go with the whole new me look.

He took your eating habits to heart and ensured you had three meals a day, all prepared by him.

Good nutrients would significantly improve your mental health and give you more energy and stamina.

Every morning, when he woke by your side, he would remind you, "You are never fully dressed without a smile, my love."

Vox:

Vox is a big baby on almost anything, especially when things don't go his way or play out how he expects them to.

He never expected to be serious and somber about anything detrimental until he found you that day.

He was terrified of losing you, and his immediate reaction was to hold you close and get you to a hospital.

Man has every tech device in Pentagram City, but he knew what you needed was far beyond his scammy gizmos and gadgets.

Once in the hospital, he was pacing the room, wearing a grove into the floor.

Once you were cleared and ready to go home, he asked you simple fundamental questions, ranging from a simple "why" to a more in-depth "How can I help you?"

He knew that when you answered in shrugs and 'I don't know,' he would have to do the grunt work to help his love.

He talked to doctor after doctor and scoured the web to find all the best remedies to help you.

He took up yoga with you, and right after yoga ended, he would sit with you in a warm bath and talk about what you thought.

When you fully started opening up to him about the dark thoughts clouding your brain, he was already prepared to help.

He helped you cleanse your social media and even recommended good, worthy shows to distract you from your thoughts.

Vox loved you more than life itself and couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

He made sure every day you knew that you would look in the mirror at him lovingly holding you and remind yourself of that, too.

#headcanon #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #lunarwritings #moons

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 3)

Summary: Russell's returned and it appears that the reader's past employment problems are behind her. But when a shirtless Russell invites her into his home and their flirting rises to new levels, the reader will have to grapple with a new reality she doesn't know how to deal with. Russell Shaw might just be the first good guy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, smidge of angst, fluff

A/N: That ending though 👀

__________

The sun was shining high when you woke, streams of light filtering in through the large windows. You hummed as you sat up, Colter typing away at his laptop outside. There was no sign of Russell though, a frown forming on your face.

He hadn’t left already, had he? He’d promised to tell you what happened back home.

You quickly changed in Colter’s bedroom into your joggers and AC/DC shirt, deciding to try Russell’s gifts out. The bra felt amazing, especially after wearing the same dirty one for a few days in a row. Even the lilac underwear was softer than you expected. 

Outside you shrugged on one of Russell’s flannel’s, pouting when you saw his car was gone and yours was in it’s place.

“Morning,” said Colter, nodding towards where a cup of coffee laid waiting for you next to your chair.

“Hey,” you said, taking it without sitting. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Not a problem. You haven’t been getting much lately.” You glanced around and noticed he was packed up for the most part, probably itching to get on the road. 

“You have a new case?” 

“Yeah. Oregon, not too far,” he said. He reached into his pocket, holding out your car keys. You wearily took them, Colter glancing over the top of your head. “I told him to stick around but he wanted to make sure it was ready for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, Colter shrugging.

“Apparently Russell has a place 45 minutes from here. Some cabin on a lake? I didn’t know he had a house. But uh, he hasn’t been there in awhile and he went on ahead to clean and stock up or something. He wants you to head up there so you can talk.”

“Oh. That’s…sweet.” You chugged back half your coffee, Colter eyeing you suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Go have your talk.” You hummed, taking another sip. “You don’t owe him anything you know.”

“I know. We’re just friends.” Colter smirked. “You want to go down that road, Shaw? I can’t help but notice you and Reenie got that whole enemies to lovers vibe-”

“And that’s enough of that conversation,” he said, standing with a stretch. He reached into his pocket again, tossing you your phone. “Russell said it’s safe to carry again. Call if you ever need anything, Y/N.”

“Have I grown on you, Colter?” you teased. He rolled hie eyes as you handed him your empty mug. 

“Maybe. I’m working on the having friends thing.” 

“Well, you Shaw boys aren’t conventional but you’ve grown on me,” you said, opening your arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out.”

“This is why I don’t do friends,” he half grumbled when he stepped into it, rubbing your back once more. “Hey and if you do think you want to try rewardist work, call me. We’ll talk, figure out a safe way for you to do this stuff.”

“What makes you think I won’t just go back home and do what I was before?” you asked. 

“Did you really want to do that crap again?” You frowned, shaking your head. He stepped back, pushing you towards the streamer. “That’s what I thought. Go pack. I’m sure Russell will be looking for you soon.”

One Hour Later

After leaving Colter with a promise to stay in touch, you arrived in a small town on the edges of a lake. It took a few minutes but your GPS eventually found the right road to head down. You had to question it when it told you that you’d arrived at your destination. The cabin Russell supposedly owned look more like a very expensive rustic mini-mansion some rich people would vacation to on the weekends.

Still, you pulled into the driveway and found Russell’s beat up car there. Cautiously you exited your car and went up the steps of the front porch, ringing the doorbell twice. A large wood door whipped open and you’d gotten your wish.

There was Russell before you. Damp hair slicked back, a few water droplets trailing down his broad chest and disappearing into the waist band of his navy sweatpants. You could see his tattoos scattered across his arm, a few on his wrist and thumbs and good god, how long had you been ogling his body?

Your head snapped up, Russell cockily leaning with one arm up against the doorframe wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, please. Look all you want, babe.” You huffed and stormed past him, fighting the urge to turn around and see what his ass looked like in this skinny little joggers he had on. Nope. You had more self-control than that.

“You wish,” you said, surprised at the mixture of modern and rustic touches inside. “So you squatting here, Shaw?”

“I wish,” he chuckled, walking past you into the kitchen area, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla luring you to follow after. “I picked this place up after I got out of the military for cheap. Been renovating it room by room for the past decade.”

“Marble countertops?” you asked, rattling your knuckles against the white and silver veined surface. Russell leaned against the island, his biceps flexing with the movement. “I thought you said you aren’t made of money.”

“Maybe I want you to like me for me and not my wallet,” he said, looking at you through his eyelashes. “You know how much that visit to that little boutique set me back?”

“Oh, I think you can afford it,” you said, smiling as you slipped behind him, ruffling his damp strands. “Next time you want to buy me lingerie, just be a big boy and say so.”

“Here I was being thoughtful with no ulterior motives,” he said, standing and putting a hand to his chest. He frowned, closing his eyes in feigned pain. “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You can be thoughtful and at the same time admit you’d like to see what your choices look like.” He dropped his hand smiled.

“I really did buy them without expecting anything. I was there and thought a girl like you deserves something nice in her fucked up life.”

“I know, Russell,” you said quietly, offering him a smile. “I honestly do appreciate it.”

He nodded before going to his fridge and taking out a pair of waters, setting one on the counter near you. “You’re welcome. And if you were ever so inclined to want to show off my fashion choices, I suppose I could suffer through.”

“You’d really take that hit for the team wouldn’t you,” you teased. He hummed, crossing his arms.

“It’s a heavy burden but one I’m willing to bear.” You rolled your eyes and laughed quietly, slipping away before you got any closer to a half-naked Russell. 

You pretended to meander around the house, enjoying the openness compared to Colter’s airstreamer. A large fireplace sat in the corner and you could see through the glass doors to the back covered porch that another sat out there as well. 

“I made up the guest room.” You spun around, Russell pointing down a hallway. “Fresh sheets. Towels. I thought maybe you’d want to take a real shower and relax before you decide your next move.”

“Next move, huh.” You crossed your arms, looking out the back windows as dark clouds rolled in over the lake. “That your subtle way of saying I can’t go back home?”

Russell’s smile fell, quickly replaced with a neutral non-chalence you saw right through. He padded across the hardwoods over to your side, watching the clouds with you.

“I meant what I said last night. You’re safe. No one, and I mean no one, will ever come after you again. Go freshen up and we’ll talk after. I promise.”

“Fine. But only because Colter’s shower sucks.” You knew Russell was holding back something but you’d let it slide for the moment. A hot, long shower sounded amazing.

Forty minutes later you exited the guest suite with freshly washed hair, smooth legs and clean clothes. Alright, maybe they were Russell’s clothes he’d laid out on the bed for you but you weren’t complaining. 

“How was it?” he asked when you found him on the covered back porch, a hard rain coming down.

“I hate to sound like a girl but that was so much nicer than your brother’s tiny ass shower stall,” you said, enjoying the cool air on your flush skin. Russell refrained from saying anything about the black Stones shirt you had put on or the way you were drowning in his sweatpants. You ran your fingers through your hair, Russell watching you try to tame the mess it’d become. “You didn’t happen to pick up any hair ties or scrunchies when you clearly went to the store and got me stuff, did you?”

He reached into his pocket with a smile and a dark green scrunchie appeared on his wrist, your eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“I’m smarter than I look,” he said. You nearly asked for it when you decided to turn around, presenting your back to him.

“Can you handle a messy bun?” you asked. A spark rang down your spine as he gathered up your hair on top of your head, gently pulling it together and securing it. You patted it when he finished, Russell taking a bow to an imaginary crowd. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head. “Okay, how the hell do you know how to do that?”

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” You rolled your eyes. “I learned it at special ops school.”

“Russ.” He laughed, taking a seat on the outdoor couch, arm over the back of it.

“I have a kid sister. I used to do her hair and shit when she was little.” You grinned, Russell holding up a finger.

“Don’t. Say-”

“Aw. What a good big brother you are,” you teased, sitting down next to him. Russell’s eyes glinted with a retort but he settled for letting his fingertips dance over your bare neck. Your breath hitched, Russell, cocking his head. “I can’t concentrate on what we need to talk about if you’re going to keep doing that.”

“Does that mean you don’t like it?” he asked, his body inviting you to tuck itself in right under that open arm. He grazed his fingers oh so lightly over your neck again and fuck, you wished he’d just grab hold and smash your lips to his already.

“You think just cause you’re sweet and thoughtful and hot and save a girl, you’ll win her over with your horrible flirting, just like that?” He leaned in close, so close you felt the heat radiating off his breath.

“I already won and she knows it. She just likes making me chase her.” You shivered when he thumbed over the back of your neck, a cocky smile on his face. “And she is a woman worth chasing so I will as long as she wants me to.”

You leaned in just when he pulled away and stood up, taking a seat in the chair opposite you with a big, stupid, cocky as fuck, smile on his face. 

“Fucker,” you growled. Russell only smiled harder. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Oh, I pray I do,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, licking his lips. Your eye twitched, Russell chuckling deeply. “That’s my little queen of darkness I adore.”

“We will continue this conversation later,” you said, cutting him off. Russell nodded, taking the zip up from nearby and unfortunately tugging it on over his bare chest.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets, taking a deep breath. “You want to know what happened after you left.”

“That’d be nice, yes.” Russell pursed his lips, turning his head towards the downpour. “Russell. Come on.”

“I know you want details but I’m sorry, that’s not happening.” Your jaw dropped as he held up his hands. “You have had enough violence and death in your life. Now, I will answer your questions but I will use my discretion. You do not need…you don’t need that crap anymore. Please.”

Russell dropped his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. When he looked up, his green eyes were somber and your heart did that flipping thing again.

“Are they all dead? The whole crew?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “That was like twenty five guys.”

“...Technically, they killed each other off. That’s why you didn’t hear about it in the news. Police are keeping it quiet.” 

“How…you tricked them?” you asked. He nodded again. “You’re sure all of them-”

“Every last one. Sides were drawn. Elpine and some of his crew got involved too, killed in the crossfire. There’s no mafia left there. No one will ever look for you again if you decide to go back.”

“If?” you asked. Russell shrugged.

“You were forced to do a job you didn’t want. You don’t want to patch up scummy guys off the street. You get to live the life you want to now. You can do that back in Virginia…or you can do a clean slate. Start over somewhere new.”

“You mean here. Stay here with you,” you said. You stood up, going to the railing, a cold breeze hitting you.

“This is a safe place and you can take as long as you need to figure out what you want to do.” You felt him behind you, his hands settling on your arms. “I have enough. I don’t want to be a private contractor forever. I am more than happy to walk away and start fresh myself.”

“Russell, you are asking a lot.”

“No I’m not.” You frowned, closing your eyes. “Despite…I’m not asking you to pick me. I’m not that crazy. I know we’re still figuring each other out. I’m asking you to pick yourself. I’m asking you to trust now that I am not like those people you worked with. You never have to pick me if that’s what you want and there are no stings attached. Ever. Just don’t go back there. Start over somewhere where life will be kind to you.”

He rubbed your arms once before you felt him move away. You glanced back over your shoulder, Russell going to the fireplace and squatting down in front of it. A moment later, flames appeared and he was tossing a few logs from nearby inside.

“Russell.” He hummed, adjusting a large log with a sharp poker. He kept his back to you for a long beat, slowly rising and setting the poker aside. When he finally looked at you, his face was neutral, void of any signs of how he actually felt. You fidgeted, tugging down the hem of your shirt awkwardly. “Put aside the flirting. You and me…it’s not going to work out.”

“You’re sure about that, are you?” You scoffed, Russell holding up his hands. 

You stormed over to him, stabbing a finger in his firm chest. “I am not whatever you think I am. I’m not a damsel looking for her white knight to come save her. I didn’t ask you to take care of my problem. You decided to do that, not me. I don’t owe you anything.”

He slowly blinked, staring down with the tiniest hint of a smirk. 

“Why are you always fucking smiling?” you growled. 

“Well if you’re going to be the grumpy then I got to be the sunshine.”

“We’re not a fucking trope! I-I don’t need you. I don’t need you to buy me things. Or do things for me. Or offer to let me stay in this beautiful house. I’ve spent my whole life alone. There is no such thing as a good guy. All you want is in my fucking pants so let’s just fuck and get this fucking thing over with so I can go the fuck home.”

Russell’s eyebrows raised. He nodded, crossing his arms. “I’m not fucking you.”

“What? That’s…you’ve been flirting the second we met!” 

“Oh, we’re past the hookup stage. We do this, it’s cause we’re the real deal.”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, going inside, pacing back and forth in the family room. To your extreme annoyance, Russell didn’t follow you. He just sat out there next to his fireplace, watching the rain come down. He really wasn’t going to talk to you about this? He was going to ignore you?

You huffed, wandering throughout the house and finding it frustratingly gorgeous. While it certainly leaned masculine as did most rustic style homes single men lived it, it felt…cozy. There was a warmth to it, even in the large expanses, that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was built almost like a retreat, Russell’s safe place away from the world.

You sat down on the top set of the stairs, frowning with your head in your hands.

Was there such a thing as a good guy? No, Russell wanted you for sex. A quick fuck. Maybe a fuck buddy at most but that was it. Right? He was a single man in his forties. Ex-military and he still did contracted black ops work. He was a trained killer. A deadly weapon hidden under a boyish smile and pretty face. There was no way he was a good guy that actually wanted a normal life.

“Do you always talk to yourself?” Your head snapped up, Russell giving you an awkward little wave from the landing a few feet away. You groaned, wiping your face off when you felt the trickle of tears on your cheeks. Russell stepped up and stopped, sitting down a few steps below you, close enough to reach out and grab your hand. 

“I should go,” you said. Russell simply held out his open palm, your own hands now held in your lap.

“Whether I’m good or bad, I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide. I don’t live my life in the black and white. But I can tell you if I only wanted to screw you, I would never have invited you to my home.” You stared down at your lap, closing your eyes when his callused thumb wiped under your eye, pushing away a rogue tear. “You ain’t a damsel. You’re my queen of darkness, remember?”

Your lip twitched up briefly, Russell letting out some satisfied little sound.

“I meant what I said earlier. Stay. Rest. Figure out your next move on your own time. If me being here complicates that, I can duck out.”

“No.” You grasped his wrist, flicking open your eyes. His palm felt so hot to the touch, your heart skipping when he grazed your skin. “Stay here.”

“Okay then,” he said. He stood, leaning over and kissing your forehead. Then he was moving down the steps, whistling a peppy tune. “I’m going to make us some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Love me some grilled cheese.”

“Wait!” you called, following him down the stairs. Russell spun around at the bottom, smiling up at you. “Why…I…I-I don’t understand. You’re really just going to let me stay here? Without committing to anything?”

His face fell, brow furrowing. “You’re really starting to scare me, Y/N. When’s the last time there was someone decent in your life?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” you said quietly. “The idea of someone like you being so kind crosses a lot of wires in my head.”

“That’s why you keep freaking out when I’m not a dick and give you space.” You nodded, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt again. He smiled, reaching up, offering his hand again. You let yours slip into it, Russell lacing your fingers together. “Well, I ain’t like other men, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

“Why me?” you asked, taking a step down, putting you at eye level with him. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want someone normal?”

“A normal girl sounds boring. Now queen of darkness? That sounds like a woman that’s badass enough to put up with me. Let’s stop freaking out, go make lunch, and let me try to help you what you want to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Perfect.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, pulling you along after him. “So. Has a man ever cooked for you?”

You shook your head, Russell frowning. You yelped when he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with his muscular arms on either side.

“Alright then Y/N Y/L/N. I’m about to make you the best goddamn lunch of your life.” Before he could move, you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, keeping him so, so close. Russell’s gaze turned heated, eyes darkening. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you breathed out, Russell leaning in close.

“Don’t take me unless you plan on keeping me. Based on our previous conversation, we are not there.” Slowly, you unhooked your legs, Russell straightening, looking you up and down, eyes no less dark.

“Russ?” He stared at you, licking his lips.

“Fuck it.”

And then he slammed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away in the goddamn best kiss of your life.

_________

A/N: Part 4 coming soon!

#Russell Shaw #Russell Shaw x reader #russell shaw fanfiction #tracker fanfiction #Tracker #russell shaw x you #Russell Shaw series

[cleo-fox]

Conquer

Part 2 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub. (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: I realize that the GIF I'm using for this chapter is TVA!Loki, but the attitude is very much in keeping with this chapter, so I decided to forgo accuracy in favor of thirst. Also, you may be thinking "Part 2 of 5? I thought this was going to be 3 chapters!" Me too. Welcome to what it's like being in my brain: even I don't know what's going on here.

The wedding night isn’t the end of the sex, of course.

The immediate, sharp need for your first coupling is gone, but there’s a dull and persistent ache that keeps you coming back to his bed every night (and several times during the day). Loki is equally ravenous, if not more so.

While you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re going to fuck him, you still don’t like being the one to initiate sex. It sounds silly, but it feels like admitting to a vulnerability that you’re not prepared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

The problem is that your sex drive has skyrocketed since the wedding.

You’ve heard about this happening—the saying soulbonds are meant to be consummated, but some are more thorough than others didn’t come out of nowhere. You just didn’t think it would be a problem for you, especially once you found out who your soulmate was. 

You were wrong about this, of course—you are constantly horny. Your mind is a cineplex of perversion, constantly playing memories of the times that he has fucked you, ways he might fuck you next, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect cock. It makes you want to run your brain through the washing machine, like a couple of Tide pods and an extra rinse cycle might fix this.

But the part that drives you crazy is that he always seems to know when you’re in these moods and he always manages to claim the upper hand. It is—like so many things with Loki—profoundly irritating.

It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

You can feel his gaze caressing your body as you walk down the stairs to meet him. Your dress is gold and glittery, and hugs your curves while the slit sneaks just high enough that you know the fashion blogs will call it daring. You keep your eyes on your feet and your hand on the railing as you navigate the stairs in your heels. Normally, Loki would comment on that—something about how you needed proper education in comportment, you were a queen, queens don’t stare at their feet, people expected elegance, blah, blah, blah. Tonight, though, he’s silent as he takes you in, which you know means that he’s particularly enchanted by how you look. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to feel sexy and confident, to enjoy the fact that the most powerful man on the planet has been rendered speechless by how you look.

Are you ridiculously horny? Sure, but you’ve got it under control. You can hold out for an evening and you’re pretty sure Loki hasn’t figured it out. If he had, he almost certainly would have said something inappropriate when he offered you his arm. He’s probably going to be distracted by the gala anyway. Why had you ever doubted yourself?

When the two of you get into the limo, you remember why. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, Loki is pulling you close, his hands cupping your breasts and then sliding down to your thighs while his lips latch on to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as though his intentions are in any way unclear.

“You need to come. I can smell you.” He’s hiking up the fabric of your dress.

Well. So much for him not noticing.

Your cunt clenches. “We’re in public.”

“Those windows are tinted and the partition is up.” His breath is warm on your neck as the fabric of your dress pools around your waist. 

“I can still wait.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can.” His fingers slip between your legs (when did you spread your legs for him?), gently grazing the gusset of your underwear, which you know is embarrassingly wet. “Soaked already,” he breathes, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. “You need to come.”

“I-I c-can—I can wait until—oh fuck.” 

He pushes the fabric of your underwear aside and lightly teases your clit with the tip of his finger.

“You can’t,” he rasps, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You’re such a greedy, needy little thing. Your cunt is insatiable.”

He presses his first three fingers together and rubs your clit in a big, broad circle that makes your back arch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flexing against the seat. “Fuck, just like that.”

“I thought you said you could wait?” he says with that mocking lilt to his voice, the one that makes you simultaneously want to punch him in the face and also ride him hard and fast and a little rough.

“Shut up,” you grit out.

He laughs low in your ear. “Oh, you don’t mean that, I know you love it when I talk you through it.”

You hate that he’s right.

“You love hearing about how tight and wet you are, how hard I am for you.” He drops his voice lower. “How hard I’m going to fuck you.”

You can’t help the quiet moan that falls from your lips.

“Yes, you love it when I talk to you like this,” he purrs. “And I love hearing what an utterly filthy, wicked girl you are.”

You whimper, despite your best efforts to keep quiet. 

“Oh, I like that little noise,” he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Let me hear you.”

“I hate you so much.”

You’ve said this to him before and like all the other times, he simply laughs. “Hate me all you like, darling, but you and I both know that you love what I do to you.”

You bite your lip and try to focus on the pleasure that’s rising in your hips.

“Has anyone ever made you come as hard as I do?” he muses, like he’s just making casual conversation. “From the way that you scream and beg for it, I imagine that there haven’t been very many that were capable. Your cunt has quite clearly been neglected.”

You’re going to ignore what he’s saying. That’s what you’re going to do. There’s no reason to listen to any of what he’s saying.

“The truth is that you need me, don’t you?” he says, nipping at your ear. “You need me because I know exactly what to do to sate your needy little cunt. I know exactly how to make you scream.”

You hate how close you are, hate how the impending rush of your orgasm has basically rendered you speechless, save for a few incoherent whimpers.

He brings his lips close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. “What would those pitiful Midgardians say if they knew their queen was such a needy little slut?”

Instead of delivering a stern rebuke, you come hard. Incredibly hard—it is arguably one of the most intense orgasms he’s given you yet, blazing through your body with a ferocity that leaves you shaking in its wake.

And he notices.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs as he rubs you through the aftershocks. “I felt how hard you came, how utterly desperate you are for me to fuck you.” 

“Loki, please,” you breathe.

He tugs at your underwear. “Take this off.”

Your first instinct is to challenge him, but the fabric is now uncomfortably damp and you desperately need him to fuck you, so you lift your hips and slide your underwear down and off your legs without any complaint. He takes it from you and sticks it in his pocket.

You expect to hear the clink of his belt buckle followed by his silky smooth voice ordering you to sink down on his unfairly perfect cock. Even though you’ve just come, you want more. You always do with him. 

(You decide not to think too much about that last part).

Instead, though, he smooths his hair and settles back into his seat, looking out the window. After a moment, you clear your throat expectantly. 

He glances at you, utterly casual. “What is it?”

Your eyes narrow. He’s playing dumb and you both know it. 

“You made me take off my underwear,” you say, biting back a sharper reply.

“I did.”

“So…fuck me.”

He gives an amused little chuckle that makes your palm itch to slap him. “Darling, we’re in public, that would be unseemly.”

You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. “You’re full of it.”

His gaze turns smoldering and stern. “And if you want to be full of my cock later tonight, you’ll change your attitude.”

You’re not sure if it’s the absence of underwear that makes you feel more aroused than usual or if he’s awakened some latent perversion you were previously unaware of. Possibly, it’s both.

Your breath hitches and he smiles like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Do you want that?” he says. “Do you want me to fill your tight little cunt with my big cock?”

You’re so far gone that you find yourself nodding before the thought of being contrary can even cross your mind.

“Well, then,” he says, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his tuxedo jacket, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

You huff out an irritated sigh and yank the skirt of your dress back down. “You’re an ass,” you say with a scowl.

“And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you or you won’t be coming at all.”

You stare at him, lips parted in the start of a complaint.

“And however much your pretty cunt is aching right now, I imagine it will be twice as worse tomorrow with no release,” he says. “If I’m feeling generous, of course. I could always make you wait longer.”

You close your mouth, biting back the urge to scowl.

He smirks. “That’s my good girl.”

Your cunt throbs. By the end of the night, your thighs will surely be sticky with your own arousal.

“This is unfair,” you grumble, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.

“Behave,” he says as you approach a rather impressive set of gates. “We’re almost there.”

A flick of his wrist sends seidr racing along your skin, smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, and fixing the smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth.

Your underwear remains in his pocket.

You have a feeling it’s going to be a long evening.

The Minister for Finance is giving a presentation. You’re not entirely sure that you would have been able to follow it under normal circumstances, but certainly not with Loki’s hand up your dress.

The two of you are seated at your own table—it’s one of the more stupid formalities he insists on, though you suppose it’s advantageous in this instance. His actions are obscured by the table and tablecloth and probably a little magic, but your heart is still racing with the thrill of it. His movements have been slow and deliberate, and the result is that he’s effectively been edging you for the duration of this forty-five minute presentation.

It feels incredible; it’s agony. You love it; you hate it.

“You’re being a very good girl,” Loki murmurs to you at one point and that alone nearly sends you over the edge.

“You’re a jackass,” you whisper back to him.

He chuckles. “If you want me to let you come once we get home, I’d suggest changing your tone, my love.”

You resist the urge to scowl, but only barely. “You made me come in the limo over here because you said I couldn’t wait,” you point out. “What happened to that philosophy?”

“It was supplanted by a desire to see what happens when I tease you for several hours.” A wicked smile curls at his lips. “Besides, I love how tight and desperate your cunt feels when I make you beg for me.”

You always come hardest when he makes you beg for him. You’d never admit it, though.

“I’d think you’d be more concerned about getting caught,” you say. “What do you think that would do to your image?”

“Oh, I think it would do wonders for my image,” he says. “Attentively tending to my wife’s needs despite potential social embarrassment? It’s rather feminist of me, don’t you think?”

“Okay, first of all, that is not what femini—” Your voice cuts out as he rolls his finger in a particularly devastating circle.

“What was that, my love?” he asks, voice thick with faux concern, his true intent easily betrayed by his shit eating grin. “You seem distracted.”

You’re not entirely sure if you’re tensing your muscles in anticipation of an orgasm or in an effort to stave it off. “You’re awful.”

His voice drops. “But I’m making you feel so very good, aren’t I?”

You take a deep breath, trying to soothe the tightening knot in your belly, even as your body is begging you to rush toward it.

“Aren’t I?” His tone turns stern and you hear the implied order loud and clear.

“Yes,” you bite out.

“Yes what?”

You swallow. You’re starting to get close, closer than he’s let you get so far. “Yes, you’re making me feel good.”

He smirks. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

You nod, taking another deep breath through your nose. Keep it together.

“I could let you come,” he muses. “Everyone’s watching the presentation. You could be quiet, couldn’t you?” His pace increases just slightly, enough for you to start to feel the tempting, shimmery tendrils of release. “Do you want that, lovely?”

It’s not a good idea, but you nod anyway. 

“I had no idea you were so filthy.” His fingers are massaging your clit more firmly and you bite back a gasp because you know it won’t be long. You’re trying to keep a straight face, but you’re struggling. You are so deliciously close.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks quietly. He knows the answer.

You nod, not trusting your voice.

But just as you’re about to start to tip over the edge, Loki’s hand retreats and the building pressure in your hips diminishes back to that steady, throbbing ache just as the Minister for Finance concludes his presentation.

Loki is smirking like he expected this. “Ah. Unfortunate timing.”

You may kill him.

“You did that on purpose, you ass,” you hiss at him.

“Oh, you’ll thank me for it later,” he says, his voice dropping low.

You scowl at him, though you suspect he’s probably right.

You get a slight reprieve during dinner, but only in the sense that Loki’s hand is no longer up your dress. Your aching arousal remains, coating the inside of your thighs. Your heartbeat seems to be pulsing in your clit, the muscles of your cunt aching as they clench repeatedly around nothing.

While his hand is no longer up your dress, Loki continues to be as unhelpful as possible.

“Shall I let you unravel on my tongue?” he murmurs to you during the main course. “Or do you need my cock first?”

“I think you need to stop talking,” you say as evenly as you can muster.

“Whatever for?” he asks with the sort of feigned innocence that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Surely you’re not concerned that I’m going to make you come simply by telling you what I want to do to you.”

You take a slow sip of your water.

“Or perhaps that idea appeals to you?” he asks, dropping his voice even lower. “Do you want me to make you come in front of all of these people?”

There’s something about the idea that’s admittedly appealing in a taboo sort of way, though you aren’t quite sure you actually want to pursue it or if you’re just so desperate that even objectively bad ideas sound good.

“Truly, I doubt you could keep quiet,” he says. “You and I both know how much you like to scream for me and I’ve been teasing you for what, three hours now? But perhaps that’s what you want. You were about to come for me earlier. Perhaps you want them all to know what a needy little sl—ah, Stefan! So good to see you again.”

Loki has seamlessly directed his attention to the Swedish official who has approached your table. His ability to be charming and personable is irritating, particularly when he’s often been uttering absolute filth to you mere seconds before. Meanwhile, your brain has completely short circuited—your thoughts stopped being anywhere near coherent when he started touching you under the table during that presentation and your cunt is pulsing. You manage a polite smile and a pleasantly vague expression that you hope hides the fact that all you can think about is Loki throwing you down on the table and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and you’ve screamed yourself hoarse.

“You conducted yourself quite well,” Loki says softly once the man leaves. “I’d never have guessed that you’re hiding such a needy, sloppy cunt under that dress.”

You take a deep breath. “What’s to stop me from slipping off somewhere and taking care of things myself?”

His eyes flash a little dangerously and you hate how much it thrills you. “If you do that, I’ll see to it that you don’t come for a week. At least.”

You are irritated with him, certainly, but you are far more irritated with yourself for being even remotely aroused by his words.

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss instead.

Loki smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’ll see how you feel a few hours from now when I’m buried in your tight cunt.” His breath ghosts over your ear and it takes everything in you not to shiver. “I suspect I’ll find you much more agreeable. You always are when you need to be fucked.” His voice drops even lower. “And I know how much you need it.”

Your legs are shaking and you wonder how you’re going to make it through the rest of the evening.

You almost come during the concert.

It was probably easier for them to set up the orchestra on the same stage as the presentation, but it means that you’re still sitting at the same table as before, which gives Loki more than enough cover to continue touching you. His hand is creeping back up your dress before the oboe even plays the tuning note and while he’s still going slowly, it’s been four and a half hours and your body is aching for release in a way you have rarely felt.

His fingertip skates across your clit just a little too quickly and firmly and suddenly, you’re poised right on the edge. One more stroke of his fingers, just one more slight movement and you’ll come.

It’s a split second decision, so quick you can scarcely think twice about it. You desperately want to come, but even though you almost let it happen earlier, you know that a stifled public orgasm isn’t really what you want. You want him to hear you scream—you don’t want to hold back.

And you want to be good for him. You want him to reward you for being good, you want to be his good girl—

You shake your head to dismiss that thought and grab his wrist in a silent warning. Quickly, he moves his hand away, sliding it to your knee. Your cunt shudders and aches, the pulsing throb of your arousal even stronger than before.

He brushes his lips against your ear. “Oh, very good, darling. You’ll be rewarded for that.”

“You could reward me now and take me home,” you say pointedly, though it would probably be more effective if your voice wasn’t so shaky.

He chuckles, draping his arm around your shoulders. Every so often, you’ve seen a candid photo of the two of you in People or one of the other celebrity magazines and you’re always taken aback by how normal you look. You imagine that it would be the same if someone were to take a photo right now—you’d look like just another couple cuddling and canoodling instead of…whatever it is you actually are. Soulmates who hate each other but fuck like it’s their job and the rent is due? There’s no easy way to classify your relationship, which you suppose is for the best: this is not the sort of thing that should be common enough to have its own word.

“We still have quite a bit to go.” He brings his index finger—the same one that had just been up your dress—up to his lips and closes his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. “Norns, I can taste how desperate you are.”

You cross your legs in the hope that it will alleviate the pulsing ache between your thighs (it doesn’t). “You’re not helping.”

“Of course I’m not,” he says. “I told you, I want you begging for me by the end of the night.”

“How have I not already exceeded that threshold?”

He smirks. “I like to be thorough.”

Five minutes later, his hand is back between your thighs.

“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist a second time?”

Somehow, you do—and two more times after that. By the end of the concert, your heart is pounding, your legs feel like rubber, your cunt is dripping, and you’d easily sell your soul for an orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” says Loki. He’s been full of praise and filthy promises and you can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

“Can we please go home?”

He chuckles. “Of course not, that would be rude.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re concerned about rudeness, considering where your hands have been this evening,” you say with a pointed look.

“You wound me.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it grudgingly, your legs wobbling slightly. “Now. Come help me charm the Minister for Defense. I need him to be much more cooperative about sharing intelligence.”

The only good thing about schmoozing with Swedish officials is that Loki can’t have his hand up your dress while doing so. Even so, he still finds ways to be constantly touching you—a hand on your lower back, your elbow, your shoulder, your waist. These things shouldn’t be erotic, but he somehow manages to make them so. Every brush of his fingers against your bare skin is agony: you are burning for him.

You watch the clock tick through another hour and a half while trying not to let anyone on to the fact that you’re keen to leave. Time feels like it’s dragging—even when the event officially ends, it still takes another thirty-seven minutes for you to say your farewells and make your way out to the front where your limo is waiting.

Your legs are shaking as Loki helps you into the limo. He slides into the seat next to you and you find yourself leaning into him, unable to resist any longer.

The door shuts.

“Loki—” you start to say.

“When we get home,” he says promptly.

“You can’t possibly—”

“Oh, I can.” He pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been hard for you all evening,” he purrs in your ear, settling you so that the thick column of his cock presses hard against your ass. “Do you know how many times I nearly dragged you off to some empty room to take you up against the wall?” He brings his mouth down against your neck, teeth pressing against your skin just hard enough to almost hurt. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, guiding his hands to your spread thighs.

“Do you know why I didn’t?” he murmurs against your skin.

“Because you make terrible choices?” you say before you can think it through.

His low laugh rumbles deliciously against your throat. “No.” His hands slip underneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skating along the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your hips roll forward almost unconsciously, your breath hitching. 

“I didn’t because I know that you need to scream for me,” he says. “Just as much as I need to hear you.” His fingertip grazes your slit. “And you know that we can’t do that properly in the car.” His finger strokes your clit and you moan. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle over the sensitive skin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever made you this wet.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not giving you permission to come yet,” he murmurs, adding just a little more pressure. “I need you to be good for just a little longer.”

You let out a whine that you’re not at all proud of as he moves his hand away to gently massage your inner thighs. “Loki, please.”

“Be good.” His voice promises pleasure and punishment and everything in between and you feel drunk with desire.

“I’ve been so good,” you say, bringing his hand back to your cunt. “Please just let me come.”

“When we get home.”

“Just once. Please.”

He chuckles and brings his lips up to your ear. “You know that I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You know I always take care of your needy cunt. I always make you come. You just need to wait a little longer.”

“I need to come now.”

“Think about how good it’s going to feel if you wait just a little longer.”

“It would feel good now.”

“It will feel even better in our bed.” He rolls his fingers in a slow circle on your clit. “You know it will.”

You whimper, rolling your hips with his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this desperate,” he says. “I’m rather partial to it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’d advise you watch your tone, darling,” he says low in your ear, sliding a finger inside you, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit. “I don’t want to deny you, but I may have to if you keep being so pert.”

As if to make a point, he slides another finger inside of you and you find yourself once again on the edge. You grab his wrist, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to hold back the rising tide within you.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he growls and the pride in his voice makes your cunt clench hard on his retreating fingers. “You want to come so badly, but you’re being so good waiting for my permission.”

“God, this had better be worth it,” you say as you wait for the pulsing ache between your thighs to recede.

“It will be,” he murmurs against your neck. “You know it will be.” He shifts you in his lap so you face him and guides your hand to his cock. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m aching for you.”

You rub his shaft, working your way up to catch the tab of his zipper between your fingers. He looks at you, eyes hungry, a smirk curling at his lips.

Slowly, you pull down the zipper.

“Oh you wicked thing,” he purrs, a low groan escaping him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and slowly begin stroking him. He’s rock hard and throbbing, and your hand quickly grows slick with his precome.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” you say, flicking your tongue against his earlobe.

He chuckles. “Are you trying to flip the tables on me, darling?”

You’re a little miffed that he figured that out so quickly. “Would that be so bad if I was?”

He laughs again. “You’re adorable.” He slides a hand along your inner thigh and back under your dress. “But I think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

Even the possibility of his hand touching your cunt has your breath quickening and your hand faltering in its rhythm on his cock.

You’re not about to admit defeat, though.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” you say, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice. You give his cock a few long, indulgent strokes. “We’re nearly there already. All I’d need to do is move a little closer.”

He chuckles, his hand sliding up to lightly tease your folds. “I would have made you warm my cock the whole ride back,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “but I don’t think you could have done it without coming. You’re too sensitive.”

Your lips part like you have something to say, but all rational thought and the entirety of the English language has fled your brain and even more arousal is pooling between your legs.

Loki smirks like he knows all of this and he briefly strokes you from your entrance to your clit before withdrawing. “Ah, we’re nearly home,” he says, moving your hand away and patting your thigh before tucking himself back into his trousers. “Let’s make ourselves presentable, shall we?”

You climb off his lap and straighten your dress, but don’t even bother trying to fix your hair or makeup. You stumble out of the car a minute later, hoping that you don’t look like you’ve spent the entire evening poised on the brink of orgasm.

Loki, of course, is annoyingly put together. He wraps an arm around your waist and leads you forward.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when we get to our rooms,” he says under his breath as you make your way into the foyer. 

“That had better be a promise,” you say.

“I thought we established that I’m the one who gives you orders—”

“We established nothing—”

One of his advisors—Sigurd, the same one who spoke to you in the hotel when he found you—is approaching Loki at a brisk clip.

“Your majesty—”

Loki barely takes his eyes off of you. “Later,” he says, waving a hand in Sigurd’s direction.

“Sire, it’s urgent.”

Your heart sinks. Loki stops and turns to Sigurd, eyes sharp, mouth pulled into a firm line. “It had better be.”

Despite the intensity of Loki’s expression, Sigurd looks unbothered and remarkably calm. “We received new intelligence on the matter you inquired about earlier, your majesty.”

Loki’s expression darkens and you realize with a sinking sensation that he has to go deal with whatever this is. “A moment,” he says to Sigurd before turning to you.

He lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “Go to our rooms,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

You nod and he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Be good for me.”

A thrill runs through you.

By the time you get back to your rooms, though, you’re a little annoyed. He’s been teasing you for hours and when you finally get home, he suddenly has another work thing?

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.

Though admittedly, he did look pretty surprised and annoyed by Sigurd’s sudden appearance. It’s probably not fair to blame him for that.

Probably.

You take your time getting undressed, mainly in the hope that it will somehow hasten his return or trick you into thinking time is passing quickly. Not that you’re looking forward to him returning for any reason other than sex. You still hate him—you just really need him to fuck you. That’s all it is.

You hesitate for a long time over the collection of silk nightgowns in your wardrobe. Should you put something on? Should you just wait naked on the bed? A silky green number catches your eye. He’d probably like that. He’s pretty predictable when it comes to that sort of thing—put on his colors and he goes feral. With any luck you won’t be wearing it for very long, but you might as well do what you can to facilitate that outcome.

You contemplate underwear and decide there’s little point, given that tonight’s set is still tucked into his pocket.

You situate yourself in the middle of your bed and try not to think about your throbbing cunt. It would be so easy to get yourself off, but you know that it won’t be as good.

You need him.

You try to ignore the thought. It’s just physical. That’s all it is. You’re on edge from being teased all evening. It doesn’t mean anything.

You wait.

It’s late when you finally hear the door click open, followed by the tap of his dress shoes on the floor.

You sit up in bed, your eyes roving greedily over him. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is draped around his neck, shirtsleeves rolled up. You are loath to admit it, but it’s incredibly hot.

Before you can even get any words out, he’s striding across the room, eyes hungrier than you’ve ever seen them. His clothes disappear the second he hits the bed, followed swiftly by your nightgown. Seconds later, he’s on top of you, mouth seeking yours, cock pressing insistently against your stomach. Your hands are just as greedy, skimming up his back and combing through his hair.

“Have you been good for me?” he murmurs as he nudges your thighs apart.

“Yes.”

“Did you touch yourself?” he asks, his voice stern.

“No,” you say.

He knows you’re not lying and the hungry smile he gives you almost makes it all feel worth it. “Good girl,” he growls. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drags his cock through your slickness. “Please.”

He chuckles as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I know, darling, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Your cunt is so slick and sensitive from his hours of teasing that just the act of him sliding inside of you feels like you’ve reached your own personal nirvana. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your voice comes out in a whimper and your legs tighten around his waist to hold him in place because he feels so overwhelmingly good.

Loki lets out a low groan as he eases inside you, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his brow furrows. “Perfect.” He leans in to kiss you as he starts to move. His first thrust is slow but even so, it draws a whimper from your throat. He’s always felt good, but this is transcendent.

“Oh god, please don’t stop,” you gasp.

“I won’t, my love.” His voice is tender as he moves with an aching, slow precision. “Not until you’ve had your fill.”

For the first time this evening, you let down your guard. Every time he’s touched you tonight—even before the gala in the limo—you’ve had to hold back to some degree. You haven’t been able to give into it, to let yourself be completely unbound and unguarded. But now when he’s moving inside of you, you have the freedom to just be and feel and it’s exquisite. Every thrust of his hips, every reverent caress of his hands, every sigh or groan is an opportunity to discover a new kind of heaven.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmurs, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub your clit. “Even with my fingers playing with your pretty cunt under the table, you looked every inch a queen. My queen.”

He’s never talked to you like this before and it makes your body sing. You arch, rolling your hips with him as the building wave inside you rises impossibly high, as though every orgasm you almost had this evening is starting to arrive all at once. The tension in your hips is equally fantastic and unbearable, a supernova of sensation that may destroy and remake you all at once.

“Filthy girl, I can tell you’re getting close,” he purrs, tilting his hips so he hits the spot that makes you tremble. “You act so prim and proper in public, but it takes so very little to turn you into my perfect little slut when I get you alone.”

You are approaching the peak, the whirling center of the storm building inside you. “Loki—please, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, darling. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

You always come the hardest when he’s inside you and this is no exception. The pressure in your hips is suddenly and spectacularly ablaze with a shimmering euphoria that draws a raw and primal moan deep from inside your chest. You are a fountain of sparks, all the tension and desire of the evening finally reaching its apex. You have yearned for this all night and the resulting blaze is spectacular.

His pace is still slow, but Loki’s eyes are wild and you get the sense that his composure is hanging by a thread. Though his eyes occasionally flutter shut as your cunt convulses around him, his gaze is locked on you in a kind of wonder. 

“Do you have any idea how good you feel when you come on my cock?” he rasps.

Even in the throes of utter bliss, you need to hear his voice. “Tell me.”

“I would create entire worlds and walk through the fires of their destruction just to feel you come.”

You shudder out a sigh. “More.”

He picks up his pace just slightly. “I would flatten mountains and raise valleys and reverse the currents.”

“More.”

He’s hitting that aching spot inside you again and the rolling tremors of the aftershocks are starting to coalesce into another building wave. You moan and his hand moves back to your clit, slick fingers pressing and rolling in just the way you need.

His eyes shine, bright with lust as his hips and fingers work diligently to unravel you again. “I would take down the stars and bring the heavens to the earth…”

His words are making you dizzy and his movements are coaxing the pressure inside of you into a cyclone that you know is going to take you down.

“Loki, please.” These are the only words you know because your entire world is him moving inside of you, inevitable as the sunrise, the architect of the heavenly destruction and renewal that is building and building in your hips.

He shifts so his weight is entirely on his elbows, bringing his lips up against your ear so you don’t miss a single word. “I would lay my crown at your feet and forsake my name…just to feel you come on my cock.”

The coil in your hips snaps and unfurls into a starry, sparkling oblivion that has you crying out his name over and over like he’s your ending and beginning, the center of your universe. Your eyes are shut against the onslaught of intense sensation, but you can feel him reaching the blissful height he’d been speaking of. He groans and slurs out a few incoherent oaths before succumbing to you and filling your pulsing cunt with his hot release.

His mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he means it as he slows to a halt. You lie together for a long moment, hearts beating wildly against each other. 

This felt different than other times. There was an intensity there that had nothing to do with the sex. You don’t know what that means, other than it’s definitely not any kind of feelings for him. It must be something else. You’re certain it’s something else.

“I didn’t realize I’d be called away upon our return.” 

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that the sound of his voice startles you slightly.

“Oh, um, yeah, I figured…it seemed unexpected,” you say.

He lifts his head to look at you, green eyes intent. “Trust that there are very few things that could have pulled me away from you in that moment.”

He’s being sincere. It’s not what you expect and that scares you a little, though you can’t quite articulate why. The idea that he would care whether you thought he’d intentionally extended your wait hadn’t even occurred to you. You don’t really know this side of him. 

“So, it wasn’t like…making a proclamation designating June National Peanut Butter Month.” You know you’re deflecting, but you don’t know what else to do.

He frowns. “That can’t possibly be a real thing.”

You shrug. “It might be. Lots of governments do stuff like that. Maybe you should consider it.”

His smile is slight, but brief as he stretches and slowly eases out of you. “I will leave that to others.”

There’s a beat of quiet and you suddenly find yourself desperate to fill the silence. “What did they need to talk to you about?”

He looks at you sharply and you wonder if this was the wrong thing to say. Loath as you are to admit it, this conversation has fostered a flicker of warmth between you, a fact you only notice now because of its sudden absence.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says as he rolls off of you. It’s not unkind, but it’s also not warm, and the discussion is clearly closed.

Part of you mourns the loss of that little spark of closeness, but a larger, louder part is intent on pretending it never existed in the first place.

“Suit yourself.”

You’re annoyed and you roll off the bed and go about your evening routine with a little more clattering and stomping than is strictly necessary. There’s a lump in your throat that you don’t understand and you’re full of feelings you can’t define. You eventually settle on the bed with your back facing him, glaring at the wall like he can see you.

But then he reaches for you in the darkness, his arms winding around your waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck as he pulls you to his chest. And instead of reading him the riot act, you let him hold you and let yourself relax into his embrace, fingers twining around his. You sleep better like this, you tell yourself. That’s the only reason you’re allowing it. It’s nothing to do with him.

You’ve told yourself that every night since your wedding and every night, it gets a little more difficult to believe.

Next chapter coming soon

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #conquer

[wuwapetal1s]

write anything abt geshu lin or calcharo im begging on my hands and knees ill give u my first born or a kidney whichever u want

I don't need any organs can I have a pair of knees maybe (ty for the request anon :3)

Love languages

content: sfw, rambling-ish format, not entirely proofread (it's midnight currently), swearing used, etc.

reqs open!

— Calcharo.

Calcharo is an ‘acts of service man’ through and through. To me, he doesn't seem the best at giving affection verbally though he thinks he's *very* good at it personally. As in, you will ask him for comfort or reassurance and he'll give it to you readily… But it will sound so stern coming from him.

“I feel uncomfortable with [such and such]..”

“I understand. I will rectify/fix that.”

Communication KING, though I imagine it can still feel very intimidating to bring stuff up to him. It will always be met with understanding, and he certainly would try his hardest to accommodate what language/tone you'd rather hear in those moments (autistic.)

Getting back to the original point, he will do just about anything for you. There's hardly any limits or rules to that fact. He will kill for you, he will fight for you, he will get in trouble with the law for you, etc etc. He'll also grab extra of your snacks the moment he's back in town and stops at the market before he goes to visit you.

Tired from a long day at work or studying? He'll clean up as quietly as he can while you sleep. You'll wake up to all the dishes done and your living space looks pretty much spotless.

He's the kind of man to learn how you organize things pretty easily, even if you're a very messy person. He's very clued in on anything that involves you (smitten, much?) and he's also just got a keen eye on him.

"Ugh, I can't find where I left my-”

“Bottom drawer of the nightstand.”

“Oh.. Thank you!”

He loves holding and kissing you as well, it's his favorite thing to be welcomed home to. Just the ability to sink into your arms is like heaven to him. Receiving, he probably likes physical touch a lot more, but he feels 100x more satisfied doing something for you to show he cares :).

— Genshu Lin.

Genshu Lin is a possessive man. It's subtle, but it's definitely there. Above all else, he adores you. He's a deeply devoted person when in a relationship, though I don't feel like he's had a lot of experience to pinpoint that exactly, but it's his nature. I believe he enjoys gifting you things he gets his hands on, trinkets or otherwise.

He mostly enjoys giving you things you can make use of or wear. He always gets a warmth in his chest when he sees you in the bracelet he got you (one that matches his that he keeps tucked away for safekeeping) or using pens he gave you after you kept losing your last ones. As long as it works, suits you, and it means a lot to you, he's snatching it up.

I also believe he's a sucker for stealing kisses in private. He may not seem it to anyone else, but he's a softie. Just for you though. Cooking something or simply sitting around? Funny how his lips just found their way to your cheek!

He's a bit more apprehensive about receiving it unless it's the time you two lay in bed together, then he'd let you rub his back or play with his hair. In return, he most enjoys quality time.

Even if it's something as mundane as running an errand or having to pick something up from the pharmacy he wants you there. He'd tell you “I don't need your presence, I just prefer it” if questioned, but he does need it. More than he knows or even lets on, he wants you and needs you there. He hates having to be away from you. It drives him up a wall almost. Like nearly insane.

After long hours working or even days/weeks of it he wants nothing more than to just lay with you and bathe in your presence as if it's a balm for his soul :’).

I love these men they're so fine

#calcharo #wuthering waves #kuro games #wuwa #wuwa calcharo #genshu lin #wuwa genshu lin #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves x you #calcharo x reader #calcharo x you #genshu lin x reader #genshu lin x you #x reader #request