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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

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Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round!

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air.

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her.

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable.

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.”

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner.

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it?

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home.

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family.

And god. Levi.

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things.

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child.

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought.

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating.

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom.

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her.

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything.

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out.

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open.

“Hange?”

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip.

“How was it?”

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse.

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face.

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows.

“Oi, what’d they say?”

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received.

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully.

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.”

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside.

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something.

After a moment, he spoke.

“That’s all?”

Huh? “Huh?!”

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets.

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.”

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?”

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation.

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.”

“That doesn’t terrify you?”

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?”

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?”

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?”

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting.

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.”

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly.

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?”

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer.

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?”

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.”

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?”

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown.

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap.

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?”

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw.

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again.

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.”

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.”

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm.

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs.

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.”

Levi quirked a brow at her.

“I’ve told you that before.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have. At your sisters wedding.”

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own.

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly.

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say.

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?”

“The hell else could I have meant?”

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him.

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!”

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly.

This time, he didn’t fight his smile.

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her.

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another.

“What are you doing?”

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.”

“Checking what?”

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching.

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.”

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.”

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make.

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.”

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp.

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough.

#levihan #ask #my writing #this was fun!! thank you :D #hoping I can get around to the other prompts soon too!!

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cole-grey-writes · 3 years

Text

Brown Hair Braided

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Character(s): Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Pairing(s): Stucky x Male Reader

Warning(s): tooth rotting fluff

Request: Hi king!! Your writing is amazing! I’d love to request a cuddly stucky x boyfriend reader. Bonus points for extra snuggly long haired Bucky and Steve and the reader playing with his hair.

A/n: WOW so sorry this took me a while to get up. I was busy with online classes and homework, all that shit. and if anyone is interested to know, i finished applying to my first college (yeah cutting it suuuper short but fuck im a procrastinator). I really hope you enjoy this fic. Keep sending in your requests, i really like writing for you guys!

You sit at the desk that sits in your bedroom, doing some last minute paperwork before the weekend. You’re startled from your focus and analytical thoughts when you get a frantic text from one of your boyfriends, Steve. You smile.

It's been a couple years since you had started going out with Steve but it still feels like you two were in the honeymoon phase. Steve brings a smile to your face at even the slightest mention of him. Although, you’re a little confused as to why Steve didn’t just call you. It’s what he usually prefers to converse with you while you are away from each other, Steve having told you it had something to do with liking to hear your voice. You chose not to dig further to spare Steve’s already tomato red face from exploding.

You turn away from your computer and small stack of papers, picking up your phone just as the screen lights up with another text.

Steve [5:23 p.m.] Y/N Y/N Y/N

Steve [5:23 p.m.] HEY

Steve [5:24 p.m.] ANSWER

You snort, wondering what Steve seems so excited about.

You [5:24 p.m.] what

Steve [5:23 p.m.] BUCK IS COMING HOME

You’re immediately sitting up straight, smile spreading even wider. You now understand why Steve had chosen to text you, probably embarrassed to start loudly squealing over their boyfriend coming home while in his place of work.

Bucky was your other boyfriend, something you wouldn’t have believed if you were to bring it up with your past self. This is mostly due to the almost palpable tension between the two of you when you and Bucky officially met about a year prior.

You, Steve, Sam, and occasionally Natasha, had been trailing after Bucky all over Europe for a few months. Bucky must have been slowly rebuilding himself during that time because he had suddenly stopped running right before you were going to hit the four (4) month mark.

You didn’t understand where all the awkwardness had been coming from. For all you knew, you were just looking for Steve’s childhood best friend, one of the only people to still remain from Steve’s old life. That was, until Sam and Natasha started making offhand comments about how deep Steve and Bucky’s friendship seemed to run (you honestly didn’t and don’t blame either of them for the new wave of insecurities that flooded your mind, you and Steve having agreed to keep the relationship, which you started only a few weeks before the reveal of HYDRA’s secret operations inside SHIELD, you started a secret until you two became more comfortable).

Everything made sense after that. It was understandable that you and Bucky had a fragile relationship in the beginning. And it really was only in the beginning. It didn’t take long before you and Bucky started bonding over your shared love for Steve and it didn’t take long after that before something started forming between the three of.

You [5:25 p.m.] !!!!!

You [5:26 p.m.] OMG

You [5:26 p.m.] REALLY?!?

Steve [5:26 p.m.] YES!

Steve [5:26 p.m.] we need to hurry he’s on the way home rn

You [5:26 p.m.] oH UM

You [5:27 p.m.] i’m home rn

You [5:27 p.m.] i can set up everything here

Steve [5:27 p.m.] good!!

Steve [5:27 p.m.] i can get dinner and dessert on my way home

You [5:27 p.m.] perfect

Steve [5:28 p.m.] ok 123 brEAK

You snort at Steve’s comedic antics as you push yourself away from your desk and away from your work. You know that you'll have to finish those at some point before monday. You’ll most likely be doing it late sunday night due to the fact that you’re going to be completely preoccupied with your boyfriends all weekend because it's been a few weeks since all three of you have been together.

This is obviously due to your hectic work schedules, Steve stuck with what was left of SHIELD, unofficially of course, doing top secret secret agent missions. Bucky had joined him in that soon after he was cleared for it. You, on the other hand, have a very typical and boring office job, a job that has become very demanding as of late with your boss giving out extra paperwork around your floor.

But, you don’t have to worry about that at the moment, you remind yourself. That thought spurs you into moving around your apartment, an apartment that you’ve been sharing with your boyfriends for a couple of months now. You note this fact with a small surge of glee inside your head as you rush to your closet where you keep all your blankets at.

You pull out the blankets you have, which is quite a lot, a fact you’re slightly embarrassed to admit. You’ve accumulated a bunch of them throughout your entire life, some as gifts from your friends and family and others from your lack of self control during the fall and winter time of the blatant holiday themes are anything to go by. You’re pretty sure your old baby blankets are boxed up somewhere, likely under your bed.

You pile the load of blankets high in your arms, so much so that you can’t see where you’re going if you don’t walk sideways as you make your way towards the living room. The living room where everything is going to happen.

Dropping the mountain of blankets on the couch unceremoniously, you immediately start to arrange them all around the couch. You bunch and ball the blankets around the back of the couch, trying to form a cocoon out of them so that you, Steve, and Bucky can remain warm no matter where or how any of you sit while you watch movie after movie throughout the rest of the night.

Which reminds you, it’s not possible to have a movie night without any movies.

turning to the small movie rack that sits next to the TV, you waste no time at all in picking out any movies that catch your eye which are quite a few movies, a good number of which are Steve and Bucky’s favorites. You set the, rather large, stack of movies next to the couch blanket fort so they’re out and ready to pick through whenever.

You’re left with a small clean up after that. You clear off the coffee table for when Steve gets home with the food, picking up leftover coffee mugs (courtesy of Steve) and rinsing them before sticking them in the dishwasher for you to deal with later. Then, you move the books lying around the living room to the miniature bookshelf in your bedroom before gathering all the drawing paper and well used pencils (also courtesy of Steve) and placing those on the left bedside table, the side Steve likes to sleep on when he’s not in the middle.

You wander around the apartment after that, looking for anything else to clean while you wait for Steve to arrive. It takes less time than you think it should have, which is surprising, so surprising that you almost think someone is politely breaking in when you hear the sound of the door clicking open and closed.

You head out of your bedroom where you were perusing a book, something you could distract yourself with, when you heard. You walk into the kitchen to see Steve already unpacking the food, clearly having rushed home.

You’re not able to hold back your smile upon seeing your boyfriend for the first time in weeks. “Need any help?” you wonder, your appearance catching Steve’s attention. He turns towards you, it being quite obvious that Steve is as excited to see you as you are to see him if the wide smile that spreads across his face in seconds is anything to go by.

Steve pauses in his unpacking to lean towards as you approach him swiftly, so he can pull you into a warm kiss. You and Steve feel each other smile during the kiss, making you two smile even harder. “Help would be great,” Steve tells you after you separate. He resumes unpacking the food from the plastic bag it was put into.

You identify the logo on the bag now that you’re so close and it’s clear that the food is from Bucky’s favorite burger place. You take note of the food as you help Steve set everything out on the counter. There’s three (3) different to-go boxes, no doubt filled with favorite menu items. You also spot three (3) medium sized milkshakes sitting in the cup container.

“Dessert?”

“It’s in the fridge,” Steve informs you.

Making a sound of interest and curiosity, you ask, “What is it?”

Steve smirks and raises his eyebrows. “Went to the store and got one of those ice cream cakes Buck likes.”

“Well,” you start, “that will certainly be a nice treat for later.”

You and Steve share a smile as you both grab the food and milkshakes so you can bring it to the living room. The living room where you plan to have dinner and a show with your two wonderful super-soldier boyfriends.

Afterwards, you and Steve resign yourselves to standing around the kitchen, catching up on the last few weeks. You and Steve are ready to happily greet Bucky once the time comes that he opens the door.

It feels like time drags on and on while you two are waiting so you’re very much thankful when you finally hear the turning of the doorknob. You and Steve separate from where you had been wrapped around each other, turning and shouting Bucky’s name in excitement. Just as he walks through the door, Bucky is all bashful as soon as he sees his two boyfriends greet him with spread arms and wide smiles.

You look him up and down for the first time in quite awhile, Bucky just as gorgeous as he always was. He clearly showered and changed beforehand if the damp hair and sweatpants are anything to go by.

Bucky drops the gym bag, obviously filled with his dirty and possibly damaged suit, on the floor. He stretches his arms out, resting each hand on the back of your and Steve’s necks so he can pull you both in close to give each of you a kiss on the lips.

“Welcome home.”

“Welcome home indeed,” Bucky rumbles back, a heart-eye look sweeping across his face. You’re one of the two people on earth that gets to receive that look, not that you mean to brag or anything.

“I’ll take your bag and put it in our room,” Steve tells Bucky. Bucky thanks him before he pulls Steve into another kiss. It’s something you feel there’s going to be a lot of for the rest of the evening, which you look forward to.

Steve takes Bucky’s gym bag from him before walking off so he can do exactly as he said, leaving you and your other boyfriend by yourselves in the kitchen. Once Steve is out of reach, you feel Bucky’s hand move from the back of your neck to your waist, which allows him to pull you in close. He presses you against his chest so he can engage in a deep reunion kiss. It’s been a long time since you’ve last felt his lips against yours which is why you allow yourself to indulge.

You have to force yourself to take a step back. “Not that I'm not enjoying this, because I 100 percent am, but…” you trail off as you take Bucky’s hand in yours, ”we should go to the living room for your first surprise.”

“First surprise?” Bucky’s tone lilts in clear interest, eyebrows raising. It’s almost as if he’s joking but you’re able to tell that Bucky’s genuinely looking forward to what you and Steve have prepared for him.

“We haven’t seen each other properly in weeks. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Well, I am definitely looking forward to it. Lead the way, doll,” Bucky instructs you, causing you to chuckle before you turn away from him in order for him to lead him into the living room.

You present the done up living room with wide open arms and an enthusiastic ‘ta-da’ and it seems that if Bucky’s smile could get bigger, it probably would. He surveys your and Steve’s work before he turns back towards you and also Steve, who has just rejoined you and Bucky. “What do you think, Buck?”

“You know what I think, Stevie baby,” Bucky tells him, grabbing one of each of your and Steve’s hands. “I absolutely love it.”

Changing the subject a little, you say, “Well, pick a seat because none of us are moving for anything other than changing the movie and getting dessert.”

Bucky hums, his voice lifting up high at the end. “Dessert, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve dismisses before his boyfriend could get any ideas. “You have to finish your dinner first.”

Bucky nods eagerly, not in any way bothered by being withheld dessert, before he takes his seat in the middle of the couch. He clearly wants to have his boyfriends cuddled up on either side of him.

“So, what do you want to watch first?” you question while you scoot the pile of movies closer to Bucky, who doesn’t take any time at all to begin picking out the movie he wants. And as it turns out, it’s a horror movie called The Apparition.

While he takes it from the pile, Bucky comments, “Been awhile since I’ve seen one fo these.”

“Horror movie, huh?” Steve jokes. “Trying to be our knight in shining armor while we cower behind you in fear?” you laugh alongside your boyfriends.

You settle back on the couch once you’ve taken the movie from Bucky and put it in the DVD player, which begins to play shortly after. You and your boyfriends snuggle into each other’s sides, feet pulled close to your bodies as you all munch on your food.

Well, it’s more like Steve and Bucky are eating their food. At the moment, you were less interested in your food and more interested in Bucky. Your boyfriend was distracting in general, both of them were. But it’s the smooth brown waves of Bucky’s hair that’s distracting you specifically. It looks so soft, especially so after Bucky’s washed it, and you just want to run your fingers through it, play with it for hours.

Your eyes wander down to your wrist as you continue to think about your boyfriend’s long hair, eyes catching on the little black band around your wrist. It’s a hair tie, one that you and Steve always have wrapped around your wrists for this precise reason. For tying up Bucky’s hair when he needs or wants to. It’s a habit to keep hair ties on your person constantly, originating right around the time Bucky was cleared to go on missions. He had decided that he wanted to keep his hair long, at least for the time being, so as the length of Bucky’s hair grew larger so did the need for hair ties at any given time.

You glance between Bucky’s hair and the hair tie, your self control wearing thin. After only a few seconds, you’re not able to help yourself from reaching your hand out to your boyfriend’s beautiful brown hair. You weave your fingers through a few strands is all it takes for your desire to skyrocket.

Tangling both of your hands to Bucky’s hair, you feel him pause in his eating but you pay it no mind as you begin to languidly braid his hair. It’s not long before another pair of hands join yours. Looking over, you spot a giddy Steve on the other side of Bucky. It appears as if your thoughts have rubbed off on him because he grabs the other half of Bucky’s hair so he can braid it alongside you.

Bucky chuckles, clearly amused. “You two are ridiculous.” Although, you wonder if Bucky can really blame you.

“Your hair is really beautiful, though,” Steve adds. Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, not that it matters. The blush that highlights his cheeks for the next five minutes is telling enough.

You and Steve share knowing looks as you both continue to braid your boyfriend’s hair, permanent smiles stretching across your faces.

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))

#stucky x male reader #stuck x reader #reader insert #marvel cinematic universe

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kiefbowl · 3 years

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Hi, im 23 and my boyfriend is 44. We've been together for just over a year and have been good together, we have open communication and mutual respect. I guess I'm just wondering, in your opinion, because I respect you and value your thought processes, if its still wrong or predatory? I love him very much, he seems to love me too. Am I being naive?

Thank you for the appreciation. I’d like to put a caveat up front that I can’t know what your relationship looks like, and the only one who knows what it’s like and how healthy it is is you. Additionally, a relationship can have healthy qualities and unhealthy qualities, and good people can have a bad relationship. Healthy parts doesn’t mean the whole is good.

No, I don’t think you’re being naive. I don’t think there’s any value judgement to attach to a 23 year old entering a relationship with a 44 year old. It does make my eyebrows raise. I find it extremely difficult to believe a 44 year old and a 23 year old have a healthy, mutually beneficial relationship. I don’t think it’s impossible for large age gaps to exist in a healthy relationships necessarily, but when it happens with someone in their 20s, that rings alarm bells to me. Your 20s are still formative years, and it can be hard to see that while you’re living them. There’s a lot of growth you’re going to do before you turn 30. Your career probably hasn’t really taken root yet, your earning potential is going to (probably) increase (maybe even very drastically at some point), you probably don’t really own a lot of stuff and the stuff you own is most likely not all that important to you or of good quality, you’re still young enough to be under your parents insurance, your credit is likely not that great (not that it’s bad, but age of credit lines is a big factor in your credit score), among other admin things that might not seem that big of a deal but do help you form an identity. When I was 23, my responsibility as a consumer was nonexistent because I was poor, at points unemployed, at points living at home...it’s only in the past few years I could start challenging myself to live up to my values and a sense of character that’s important to me as a consumer because I can move around the world more freely. It comes with money, but also career position. So that’s one aspect of being 23...

The other aspect of being 23 is you are very, very, very young, and even without a lot of money it can be very fun to be very, very, very young. It can be a lot of fun being older, too. I’m not old, by any means, but from this point in my life looking forward I’m much more excited to get older than I was at 23. At 23 I dreaded it because it felt like I was running out of time to be young. You get older and you learn to accept it and you realize how much in your life can change in a short time and you realize there’s wisdom, position, and status to gain in each decade of your life. Obviously, not every one is fortunate and not everyone is going to have increasing good fortune as they age, but regardless of what you make or do, you learn and grow as you get older, and I think it’s easier to appreciate as your enter your 30s. So don’t worry about getting older, but let me tell you 23 is FUN.

23 was also the worst year of my life. I couldn’t afford chicken nuggets. But my friends and I were also working a crummy starbucks job that gave me almost no responsibility. I would wake up at 11, smoke weed and eat cereal, watch netflix, walk to work, work 2:30 - 11, then go out to a bar with my friends and eat cheap wings until 2 am, go home and play with my cat and go to bed literally whenever in an apartment with no furniture to take care of. I’d be off on a random weekday and grab another random friend who was off to go on day trip in their shitty car to Milwaukee for the hell of it, or go take a long walk on the beach listening to music all day, or go downtown and go to a museum on a discount day because no one was there, or ride my bike in the summer sun to nowhere in particular in the middle of the day because people were at work, and then come back home and do fuck all. Then I’d do it all again, plus steal croissants from work and drink endless coffee all day. And it didn’t matter, I could wake up the next day energized. Yes, I was stressed out, and I didn’t always appreciate the joy that can be found in that life because of it also sucked ass, but the energy and fortitude you have as a young 20 something is a beautiful thing to live through. I wouldn’t go back to that life now having the space I’ve made myself in the world, but I love thinking back to it and I’m glad it happened. I had to work really really hard to carve my little place in the world (and I’m not done yet!!), but there was a moment right before I hit the pavement to make that happen where my life felt endless, fresh, uninhibited, palpable. 23 has a different freedom than 30 for me. Money allows me to move in the world freely at 30, time allowed me to move in the world freely at 23. At 23, you can do dumb things, party, hang out, be lazy, be reckless, make quick decisions, change your mind...and it’s good, not bad. It’s learning, and it’s fun. It’s celebration, and it gives you hard lessons worth learning.

A relationship is a lot of responsibility, and it can take the place of some of that youthful freedom. That’s not always a bad thing, love can be very fulfilling. When you’re strapped for cash, it can also be financially helpful. Two 20-somethings joining forces can get each other on their feet to be independent at a time it’s a struggle to do it alone. You’re in the same boat, you have the same struggle. But a 44 year old isn’t experiencing life the same way you are. And believe me, 44 year olds know that. A litmus test to to your bf’s intentions might be how he talks about that fact. Does it ever come up? Does he speak about it freely? Does he laud it over you or do you share experiences with each other like companions?

This isn’t the only factor to consider when trying to figure out if your bf is “predatory” in your words. Who your boyfriend may be and his intentions aren’t the only thing to consider when you want to figure out if you should be in a relationship with him. Who YOU are is equally important. I don’t know a 23 year old who wasn’t different the very next year. I don’t know a 24 year old who wasn’t different the very next year. I don’t know a 25 year old who wasn’t different the very next year. Maybe that’s true for every year, but the differences between my life one year to the next between 20 - 26 were striking. I walked out on two jobs when I had nothing in my bank account simply because “fuck this”....this year I was terrified to lose my job because what about my retirement fund. I work for “the man” now when 6 years ago I caused a mass walk out at work. I’m probably not going to have a radically different life next year. That wasn’t true of my early 20s. The switch from “my life is a mess but it can be anything” to “next year I should start a will and keep care of my assets” happens quicker than you think. Is he letting you live that life right now? Is he encouraging it? Believe me, you can be a mess at any age (and it can be a fun mess, too), and you aren’t old at 30 or even 40 or honestly even 50, you’re just not as tided to things in your 20s. Is he clipping your wings to be kept, or is he letting you fly recklessly into the sun just so you can see how far is too far? You just can’t get 23 back. It’s a lot harder to crash and burn and then pop back up without a scratch after your 20s. Does he want to crash and burn with you? Will he even let you without him? Does he know if you go out into the world young and messy you might learn a lesson or two that makes won’t make him appealing to you anymore? Is his love coming from a place where he wants you to thrive by your own mistakes? Is he excited to watch you walk out the door to take on a new day blind but fearless, just so you can come home and tell him the adventure you took and how it changed you? Or does he find that childish, exhausting, unfitting? Does he want to see you grow into “his” adulthood? Does he need you to fit into his established life more than he wants to live and work beside your unestablished life? I couldn’t even date someone younger with your age difference. They would be 8. But would I tell an 8 year old not to learn to ride a bike because I can just give them a ride in my car, or would I tell them it’s worth learning even though I know they’re going to scratch their knees up? If I loved an 8 year old, I know to see them thrive they have to scratch their knees up a little and I can’t get in the way of it, or they might not learn to ride their bike to take long rides in the summer sun.

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 1

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: The first part, I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): Descriptions of abuse and general creepiness

Moodboard

Prologue

Chapter 1 here we go!!!

“Father, please,” Gwilym groaned, setting his book down. “Not this again.”

He had been reading - rather peacefully - when his father burst into the library and started asking him when he could meet another young lady suitable for him to court.

“I’m not getting any younger, Gwilym!” the king returned. “I’d like to see you settled before I go!”

“You’re in great health,” the prince argued. “And besides, why is it so important that I’m married before you die?”

The king hesitated before replying, which made Gwilym’s brow furrow.

“I need to know there’s someone looking after you,” the king said. “That you’ll be taken care of.”

“Father, I’m your son, not your widow,” Gwilym said, rolling his eyes. “And it isn’t a wife’s job to look after her husband.”

“What do you consider her duties to be, then?” the king challenged.

“To love me, that’s all,” Gwilym answered. “To be my partner.”

“Love, puh,” the king scoffed. “I tell you, the world is too different now. First, Prince Rami marries a village girl, and then Prince Benjamin finds himself a mermaid. If you’ve got some crazy idea because of them, then I’m telling you, boy, I won’t stand for it!”

“In fairness, the mermaid is a princess,” Gwilym said with a cheeky smirk.

“Don’t play with me,” the king replied. “I’m serious, Gwilym.”

“I’m serious too,” Gwilym said. “If I meet the right girl - someone I love - then I’ll be happy to get married. But you must accept that she may very well be a village girl or a mermaid or a servant.”

The king huffed. “She may also be high born. Or at least a gentleman’s daughter.”

“She could be anyone, I won’t discriminate,” Gwilym said. “But I must love her, Father. If I’m going to get married, that is my condition.”

“But who knows how long that might take!” the king cried, exasperated.

“What’s the rush?” Gwilym returned with a shrug.

He kept his eyes fixed on his father, whose face was reddening with heat. The king looked very hard at the floor, as if fascinated by the dust on the wood.

“Father?” Gwilym pressed. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not in great health, son,” the king admitted. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time left.”

Gwilym got to his feet and approached. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m ill,” the king said, finally meeting his son’s gaze. “It’s still early on and there is treatment, but I don’t know how much life is left for me. I’d like to see my grandchildren, and know the woman that will be my son’s companion. Then maybe, when I join your mother, I can tell her about them.”

Gwilym offered a faltering smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t want to worry you,” the king said. “Especially with me not even having all the information yet. But that’s what it is, and why I’m so concerned with it.”

The prince sighed. “Well, I can’t make you any promises. Love happens organically. It’s not something you can force.”

“It is something you can build,” the king rebutted. “Like your mother and I did.”

“It might embarrass you to hear this, Father, but I’d also like some passion in my marriage,” Gwilym said.

The king’s face went beet red, and Gwilym bit back a laugh.

“Well!” the king cried. “Times truly have changed when young men can so carelessly talk about matters of the bedchamber in broad daylight!”

Gwilym chuckled. “Look, I just said passion. If your first thought was the bedroom, then whose mind is truly in the gutter?”

The king’s frown deepened.

“Don’t play with me, boy!” he warned again.

“I’m sorry, Father, I won’t tease you anymore,” Gwilym promised. “But even so. Only a deep, true love will sell me on matrimony. Until then, we just have to enjoy our lives. The way they are.”

The king released a low breath, the redness slowly draining from his cheeks.

“I want to,” he said. “But when I think about the future, I…”

“I know,” Gwilym said. “Let’s not focus too much on that. How about we go for a ride? Just you and me? For old time’s sake.”

When Gwilym was growing up, his father used to take him riding for time away from the palace, especially if Gwilym was feeling upset or stressed. They’d saddle up their horses and just take off into the countryside. Fresh air did wonders. It seemed to clear the air inside themselves and they always had the best conversations.

“Yes,” the king said with a smile. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Gwilym called in a footman to get their horses ready.

***

“There,” you said finally as you tied the last ribbon on your stepsister’s dress. “All done. Is there anything else you need, Miranda?”

“No,” she replied dismissively. “You can go now. Is breakfast ready?”

“Yes,” you said. “Your father and Eleanor are already downstairs.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she snapped. “Now it looks like I overslept!”

“But, Miranda,” you said. “You did oversleep.”

“Well - Father doesn’t need to know that!” she argued. “Never mind. I’m going downstairs.”

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. You followed shortly after, closing the door softly after you. Miranda and Eleanor could slam doors all they liked, but if Frank ever heard you do it, you were certain you’d be out on the streets.

You headed downstairs, below the main floor, into the kitchen. The tea would need to be freshened up soon, and you had a kettle warming on the stove. Elsie and Robert sat at the servant’s table, nibbling at their own breakfast.

“Y/N, take a seat,” Robert offered. “Bacon’s still hot.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I’ve got to get their tea up quickly so I have time to visit Papa today.”

“Oh, it is the anniversary, isn’t it?” Elsie recalled. “It’s been so long, it slips my mind.”

“Yes, it has been a long time,” you sighed sadly. “But I miss him every day.”

“Of course you do,” Elsie said. “Well, hurry on then, I’ll make you something fresh to eat.”

You thanked her and ran the tea upstairs. You entered the dining room and instantly felt a frigid air about the family. You began to pour the tea, knowing better than to question things.

“So, Y/N,” said Frank, the usual stiffness to his voice. “I understand you have time for meddlesome pranks.”

“I - what?” you questioned. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you understand perfectly well, don’t play dumb,” he warned. “Toying with my dear Miranda’s clock to make her almost miss her breakfast is childish at best and vindictive at worst.”

“But, I didn’t -”

“Don’t interrupt me, Y/N,” he said, cutting across you. “If you have time for stupid games, then I don’t see why you need time off this morning.”

“Frank, it’s the anniversary of my father’s death,” you reminded him. “I go and visit his grave every year, you know this.”

“Well, perhaps you should have thought of that before acting like a mischievous child,” he said.

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But I didn’t, I swear!”

He ignored this.

“Today, before you head to the tavern for your shift, you will wash all the windows, re-do the laundry, mop the floors of the entrance hall, and polish my boots,” he said. “On top of all your regular duties, this should prevent you from temptations like practical jokes.”

“You can’t,” you said softly.

“I can,” he returned. “This is my house, and I won’t tolerate any tomfoolery. You want to behave that way, then you will face the consequences.”

“It’s not fair, Miranda just overslept, I didn’t touch her clock or anything in her room!” you insisted.

Your stepfather’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide. You had never spoken back to him, but nothing was more important to you than honoring your parents. Visiting your father’s grave was something you used to do with your mother, and it made you feel close to her as well. Frank shoved his chair out from under him and got to his feet. You stepped back, frightened.

“Don’t you dare take a tone with me, Y/N!” he barked.

He moved toward you, his form looming. You felt like you were actually shrinking under him.

“I - I’m sorry, I just -”

“Enough!” he cried, and he shoved you.

You fell to the ground on your side, catching yourself on your hands. You could already feel a bruise forming where his hands had gripped your arm. A shiver ran through you. He stood there, tall and proud, straightening his vest.

“That was undignified,” he said shortly. “But I also won’t tolerate disrespect. You will complete all your tasks today, Y/N. And if I find it isn’t done when I return from town, you will face far worse than a shout.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you replied, shaking.

“That’s a good girl,” he said.

He returned to his seat, and resumed his breakfast. You watched the tension slowly release from Miranda and Eleanor’s shoulders. A warm tear slid down your cheek. On trembling legs, you got up, and made your way back to the kitchen.

Elsie saw your pale, terrified face, and she jumped up, taking you in her arms.

“What happened, dear?” she gasped.

You let out a sob and told her everything that just transpired, almost disbelieving yourself. Elsie and Robert held you in their embrace. Since you’d lost your mother and father, they were the closest thing to a real family you had.

“There, there, darling,” Elsie soothed. “It’ll be alright. Robert and I will handle those chores for you. You go on out to the cemetery.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “If Frank finds out, we could all be in trouble.”

“How will he know?” she replied. “He’s always out of the house, and as long as it gets done, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“W-what about Miranda and Eleanor?” you sniffled.

“They’re going to town with their father today, they’ve got some lessons to attend to,” Robert said. “No one will know except us.”

You gave them a watery smile. “Thank you so much.”

Frank and the girls left straight from breakfast. Elsie urged you to go ahead and get to the gravesite and get back as soon as you could, just in case. You agreed, and quickly fetched your cloak and basket. Packing a few things, you headed out.

It was a short trek from the main house, but you didn’t mind the walk. In fact, you loved walking. It gave you an opportunity to sort out anything on your mind. As a young girl, you used the time to imagine yourself as anything other than what you were - a sad child with no parents and a difficult future. On your little walks, you could be a princess or a warrior or mermaid or whatever you wanted.

Now, as an adult, your imagination had dwindled. Harsh reality took its place. The only way to escape Frank was to have something to fall back on, and since he didn’t pay you, and worked you all day, you had nothing. But after this morning, you knew something had to be done. Frank was always distant and demanding, but that kind of aggression was new. And that was something you could not tolerate. Your arm throbbed in agreement.

You reached your father’s grave, and placed a ring of flowers against it. You lit a candle and set it beside the headstone. There was actually a towering statue there of an angel. In a way, you’d always seen your father as an angel, but he wasn’t cold and rough like stone. He was warm and gentle. You said the usual prayer for his spirit.

“Oh, Papa,” you sighed when you were finished. “I miss you so much, especially today.”

You opened your mouth to speak again, but shut it quickly at the sound of horse hooves. Fearing Frank had returned unexpectedly, you blew out the candle and stood up, pressing yourself into the angel statue. You heard voices and held your breath, straining to make out what they were saying. To your great relief, it didn’t sound like Frank.

“Gwilym!” one man called out through a laugh. “Slow down, my boy!”

Another laugh rang through the yard - soft, friendly, and sweet. You listened as the horses slowed to a stop and the men caught their breath.

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your edge, Father,” the one called Gwilym panted. “We haven’t been gone very long.”

“I’m old,” the father replied.

“You’re young at heart, though,” Gwilym returned. “Where are we?”

“Sir Frank Tarleton’s property, I believe,” the father answered.

“He owns an estate?” Gwilym asked. “I thought he ran the tavern.”

“He does,” the father said. “He inherited the estate from his late wife. It was in the Y/L/N family for centuries before Tarleton got it.”

“What happened to the Y/L/N family?” Gwilym wondered.

“The man died, his wife remarried Tarleton,” the father said. “There was a daughter, I believe, but Tarleton cares for her now.”

You almost snorted. “Cares for” - that was rich.

“How sad,” Gwilym said.

Taking a chance, you peered around the statue, careful not to expose yourself too much. You saw the two men, clearly nobles from the way they were dressed, but you didn’t know who they were. The younger one - Gwilym, stood out to you. He was dashingly handsome; tall, blue eyes, soft dark hair, a strong jaw, and a gracious smile. The older one looked similar, with more gray in his hair and a longer nose. Otherwise, they might have been brothers instead of father and son.

Gwilym’s horse turned, so you leaned further out to keep looking at him. Unfortunately for you, it was a stretch too far. You lost your footing on the statue and tumbled into the grass landing on your already bruised arm with a sharp yelp.

Gwilym and his father whirled around and saw you. The former dismounted swiftly handing his father the reins, and he jogged over to you.

“Are you alright, madam?” he asked, offering you his hand.

You looked up at him in awe. He was handsome from a distance, but up close he looked unreal. Like a painting or a sculpture. He belonged in a gallery or a palace, not in a field, helping your clumsy self up.

“I - yes - sorry,” you sputtered, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Let me help you,” he said gently.

You took his hand and he lifted you carefully to your feet. He was surprisingly strong for his slimmer frame. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was so...tall.

“What’s a girl like you doing out here all alone?” he asked kindly.

He took in your face and thought you fair, even with the dirt and soot that dotted your skin. The hood of your cloak covered your hair, but he found the color flattering on you.

“Paying my respects,” you said, nodding toward the grave. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

Now, you looked everywhere but at his face, embarrassed.

“Not at all,” he assured you. “We’re just passing through. It’s us who likely disturbed you.”

You shook your head. “No, sir. I was just leaving.”

His brows came together as he observed you. You were a striking girl, but the timidity concerned him. It was not a typical feminine play at being coy. You were genuinely fearful.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. “We could escort you home.”

“Oh, no!” you cried, looking at him at last. Your gaze shot quickly back to his feet. “I couldn’t impose. And besides, I dearly love to walk.”

“It’s no imposition -”

“No, sir,” you said firmly. “Thank you, but no. I must be going now, I’ve got so much to do at home.”

You bent down and snatched up a basket, drawing your cloak closer around you.

“Good day, sir.”

You offered a short curtsy and then turned and walked off. He watched you go until you disappeared over the hill.

“How very odd,” he said to the king. “Do you think she recognized us?”

“I should say not, or you’d have gotten a lot more respect than a ‘sir,’” the king said. “Ignorant child.”

Gwilym mounted his horse.

“Don’t be so harsh, Father,” he said, settling into the saddle. “She’s only a servant, there’s no reason she should know us right away.”

“Let’s ride on,” the king replied. “I’ve got my energy back.”

“Well then, you’d better keep up!” Gwilym joked.

They took off. You heard them thunder away in the distance, and you wondered if you had just missed an opportunity to escape. You shook your head. That couldn’t be the case. Those men had no reason to help you. They knew Frank, and you had no way of knowing whether or not they were friendly. And yet...that Gwilym had the kindest eyes you had ever seen.

You went home and got started on the rest of your chores. By some miracle - mostly because you had Elsie and Robert’s help - you got everything done. Evening was drawing near, so you went up to change and prepare for a shift at the tavern.

You were in your chemise when your door burst open. You gasped and covered yourself with your blanket, whirling around to see Frank standing in the doorway. You stepped back.

“Well, I see everything is in order,” he said. “Well done, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied coolly.

He cleared his throat. “Regarding my conduct this morning….it was not gentlemanly.”

Your brow furrowed. Was he actually going to apologize?

“But I’m not sorry,” he said.

Of course he wasn’t.

“You need to understand, Y/N, that I am the authority in this house, and I won’t stand for disrespect,” he went on. “But I will say, I admire that you bore it with such dignity.”

“I - thank you, sir,” you said again.

He walked in and stood in front of you, coming within inches of your face. His hand came to cup your cheek, and he brushed some ashes off it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. This was also new, and his touch made your stomach churn.

“Yes,” he said. “You are growing up to be a fine woman.”

Your mind went completely blank. You had no idea what he meant by that.

“I’ve just paid you a compliment, Y/N,” he said. “The polite thing to do is say thank you.”

You didn’t want to thank him. He had invaded your privacy and your personal space. It felt more like intimidation - to further squash any more thoughts of rebellion against him. He was asserting himself.

“Thank you, sir,” you repeated, but it didn’t even sound like it came from you.

“Good girl,” he said, stepping back at last. “Now, finish dressing and get to the tavern.”

He turned on his heel and swept out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You sank onto your bed and drew in a deep breath.

The tavern was already filling up by the time you arrived. You offered Zelda - the manager - an apology as you tied your apron on.

“It’s been a very long day,” you told her.

Your feet were already aching, but that was something you were used to. Your limbs and muscles always had a dull pain about them from working all day at the house, and all night at the tavern.

“Understandable,” Zelda replied. “But jump on it, girl, we’ve been open half an hour already.”

“Yes, Zelda.”

You went up to the first table and jotted down drink orders.

When you first began work at the tavern, the customers intimidated you. They were mostly men, who drank heavily, and were therefore loud. But you quickly realized the regulars were some of the sweetest people you knew. They came in to relax after working all day, and they sometimes even brought their wives and children. Those were your favorite days.

“Y/N!” called one of the men, called Peter.

“Good evening, gentlemen!” you greeted. “How are you?”

They all talked at once, so you smiled and nodded, feeling some relief. Work was a nice distraction from all of Frank’s new and strange behavior.

You went to fetch them a pitcher of ale, but as you walked, you saw the front door open. In walked the last person you ever expected to see at the tavern. This wasn’t a place where people with his kind of money spent time. It was the man from earlier - Gwilym.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #brian may x you #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap boys #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast imagine #borhap cast x you #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys imagine #borhap boys x you #a dream is a wish your heart makes series

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atlabeth · 3 years

Note

Ooooo yes to the asks!!! How about: 16, 17, 25, 26, 34, and maybe 35 if you really want to answer six of these from one ask. Lol

thank you for sending this in and fulfilling my need to talk about myself lmaoo im putting this under a cut because it got long but i rlly liked answering all these

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? oh i am a sucker for friends to lovers because i love obliviousness and i love that 'oh' moment ya know?? i also love enemies to lovers and there was only one bed (i blame elle for this)

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for. i'm never gonna write smut because i just. cannot. so any tropes relating to smut are not gonna happen

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! omg sdfjkhsd yes i have. i already have a rough idea of a sequel planned for ehfar and i think about it all the time. i dont wanna spoil too much of it but its gonna go more into detail with zuko and y/n's relationship after the war because you already Know there's going to be problems. but i mostly just think of chapters i still have to write, my brain isnt big enough to go any further

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try? YEs so much !! i planned out and wrote 3 other one shots following the events of 'right where you left me' but for some reason ive gotten really in my head about it and theyre just sitting unfinished in the folder bc im too scared to finish and post them lol. im also (as ive already said) really scared of writing for criminal minds more because the fandom scares me and so does writing the characters wrong

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. im proud of a lot of stuff from ehfar but all of them are like. intense spoilers lol. so this is from the anastasia AU im working on, even though its a sokka/reader pairing, sokka and katara's sibling relationship is also shown a lot because if you didnt know by now, i love them

“Just… go back to sleep.” Sokka opened their shared coin purse and it was all he could do to hold a wince back. He didn’t need Katara worrying about their money situation — he already had too much on his plate. The only thing worse than being poorer than dirt was having to tell her the fact.

Katara was only a year younger than him, but she had a brightness in her eyes that he didn’t want her to lose. His sister annoyed him to no end, but when he heard her laugh or when she bugged him over a trinket she had found in a market stall, when he caught her singing the song their mother had taught him when she thought she was alone, or when she spun stories on the tapestry that was her mind when sleepless nights plagued them both?

It made it all worth it.

Katara was all he had left, one of the last living testimonies to an almost extinct bloodline, and he would do whatever it took to keep her the way he liked her best: alive. Work the shittiest jobs, the longest hours, on the coldest winters to keep her safe.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want! okay i KNOW all i ever talk about is ehfar but thats because i love it. im having a really good time writing it and a lot of people like it which helps lol. its my first long fic and its just really special to me because of that. im so glad i have cool people like you to share the journey with :-)

#hoo boy that got long #but this was fun!! thank you for sending them all in #sadie answers #escapingthoughtsandsecrets

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loptyrs-moved · 3 years

Note

Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em

Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!

Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!

More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.

Ikemen Revolution

Black Army Side

Corrin Fukui

Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties

Hair: Brick white

Eyes: Blood Red

Height: 4′11

Any other Qualities:

Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature

Curved Opalescent Horns

Shimmery opalescent tail

Wings that also shimmer in the light

retractable?

Pointed ears

Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements

stunted growth

Hoards blankets and comfort items

writes in a journal every day

its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories

she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(

turns into a gIANT DRAGON

ICE ICE BREATH BABY

Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in

Had amnesia at first

She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape

Excellent at sewing and gardening

Sufficient with baking

She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.

Sometimes is called Corri

gentle hearted and innocent

but not as innocent as you’d think

she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one

Ophelia Dae

Age: 24

Hair: Crimson red

Eyes: Jade green

Height: 5′8

Any other Qualities:

A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen

9 of Spades baybeee

While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic

BOMBASTIC AS HELL

BISEXUAL

“Is he bothering you Queen?”

Trans

Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them

she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her

phelia REFUSES to talk about it

she still has nightmares

raised by a single mother

TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame

joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him

she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too

his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place

has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends

AND CORRIN JEEZ

will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause

PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT

Bruh girl

Amira Nasiri

Age: 22

Hair: Chocolate brown

Eyes: Turquoise blue

Height: 5′3

Any other qualities:

My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian

That’s it

She’s just as spunky as Alice

however she responds with being called Alice a little different

she’s adamant about being called Amira

At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself

also an avid baker like alice

pISTACIOS

BAKLAVA

Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her.

She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice

and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS

just ask me why fjgdfgjksd

Red Army Side

Azul Flores

Age: 25

Hair: Raven black

Eyes: Wisteria purple

Height: 5′0

Any Other Qualities:

An old friend of the Queen of Hearts

like she met him when she was 8 years old

fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid

they dated for a WHILE

did NOT work out

HARD CHILDHOOD

Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married

Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter

Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.

Wants to be a Cradle Historian

Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen

UNINTENTIONAL

THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER

Unless....

Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them.

CUT THROAT BITCH

YOUR DEVIL

DEMON

Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her

Bad resting bitch face

Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings

A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u

She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you

Cerise Nam

Age: 19

Hair: Berry Pink

Eyes: Petal Pink

Height: 5′2

Any other qualities:

Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since

They live in Black Territory

She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts

loves making desserts from where her parents are from

She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille

Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen

Loves to cook and bake!

a little naïve, but she’s a realist

youngest of FIVE kids!!

Morning girl

She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods

Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town

love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?

she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...

does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...

She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve

family stuff -- and she understands

RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL

look im cheesy

dont worry it works out

zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult

Non Army Suitor(s)

Lucile Lidell

Age: 20

Hair: Straw blonde

Eyes: Aqua blue

Height: 5'1

Any other qualities:

She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice

Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle

More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal

Rebellious

Noelle and Luci: partners in crime

Short skirts galore

Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her

Wants to be taken seriously

Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage

loves her sister more than anyone else in the world

When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki

Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever

First man to feel safe around

"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"

Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong

Loves to make clothes

'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'

'Welcome home, I missed you.'

Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him

Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan

Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf

Ikemen Sengoku

Ito Tsunade

Age: 26

Hair: Straw Blonde

Eyes: Molten Gold

Height: 5′5

Any Other Qualities:

Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke

got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era

but she got separated from Mai

Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed

HEAD EMPTY

ZERO THOUGHTS

AIRHEAD

her aesthetic when she gets there?

TITS OUT

BIG HONKERS BIG TATA

HOT

her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you

Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones

Specializes in girl metal in modern day

eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces

she has entertained them for now

puts sake away like a monster

when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings

asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol

genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious

also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens

her name was UNINTENTIONAL

Aibana Hinata

Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties

Hair: Black Midnight

Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion

Height: 5'3

Any other qualities:

The concubine of Nobunaga

Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy

Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life

A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD

HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER

Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits

board games

debate as pillow talk

swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough

Bisexual as hell

Gender? Don’t know her

He uses all pronouns

True pronoun: princess

ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI

Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........

Unless.......

Smart, and educated

former geisha

he can read! and write!

LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI

if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else

he would be her best friend

her confidant

genuinely adores her

even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too

puts up a tough exterior

a softie.....

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e1ygo · 3 years

Text

anything for you

Haikyuu!!

Relationship:

Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Tags

Murder

vaguely described death

Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen

technically canon compliant

Fluffy Ending

Pre-Relationship

no beta we die like men

Aftermath of Violence

I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping

Blood and Injury

Personality Swapnot

the actual magical trope for it

How Do I Tag

Slightly Out Of Character

crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446720

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

kinda terrible but i did like it so im posting it now, send me your thoughts, twitter: wolfBLIX

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

“FUCK! Just DIE already, you bitch.” The final crack of the spinal cord as the target’s back hits the floor. He reached for his phone and dialed a number from memory. “Omi, I need you.” Click.

He knew this was going to be a pain in the ass to clean up. The job was supposed to be simple and easy. What the agency failed to tell him was that the target was trained to avoid assassinations for very obvious reasons. He almost felt sorry for who had to pick the room up after the agency’s cleaner finished. There was blood splattered onto his cheek and across one of the walls of the room. A small bedside table was completely across from where it should be, plus it was missing a few legs. Atsumu was splattered with blood, similar to a piece of abstract art. Red dripped down the side of his face, it was from when the target swung at him with bloody knuckles, but now it mixed with his sweat from the fight.

The only good thing about this issue was that he was able to see Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi Sakusa was the cleaner for the hitmen agency for when jobs became a little messier than they were supposed to be. He was a confusing person but damn good at his job. Confusing for the same reason that Atsumu worked for the agency. Kiyoomi hated germs and always wore a mask and sometimes even gloves outside of doing his job. He hated people, kept to himself unless he knew the person well, and was painfully agoraphobic, yet he thrived in high school as a star volleyball player. This had been where Atsumu first laid eyes on him, in high school at a volleyball match. Atsumu is sort of the antithesis of Kiyoomi: loves attention, people, is loud and ‘obnoxious’ (as said by Kiyoomi the first time they met mid-match).

Years had passed since those moments. The world has spun on its head and the reality they lived in felt similar to a fever dream or an alternate timeline. Maybe it was; there had been a war in 2020 and a few years later any sports teams had turned barbaric and now assassination, executive protection, and hitmen agencies had taken the place of any sort of police or law enforcement. Sure there was a military company, but they were more of a front for just a really big government-lead assassination group.

Now they both were roughly 26 and had seemingly flipped personalities. Kiyoomi gave presentations and orders as one of the Captains at the agency; he cleaned up the worst of the worst scenes of guts, blood, and everything else; he even went as far as to seek out the newer recruits to help them learn the tactics and routes (though Atsumu still thinks this is to make his job easier). Atsumu inverted himself, on the other hand. He rarely spoke to anyone other than his commanding officer and boss Kita, his twin Osamu, Osamu’s partner and their childhood friend Suna, and Kiyoomi, even if he didn’t see Kiyoomi outside of jobs very often, Atsumu still considered him a friend.

7 minutes and 10 seconds. This is how long it takes Kiyoomi to walk in the door of the now trashed suite of the hotel. Atsumu is frankly shocked that no one came to tell them to be quiet with the number of times they threw each other into walls.

“Miya.” Kiyoomi looks at the disheveled mess of Atsumu in front of him. His blonde hair was sticking to his forehead and sweaty from the clear struggle the target put up with. He had a still bleeding split lip and blood was smeared in his cheek, otherwise his face wasn’t too beat up. Kiyoomi knows Atsumu is one of the quickest on his feet and hates to get his face hit, so the mere fact of the split lip and blood smear kind of worries him, though he would rather drink the chemicals he brought than admit it. His clothes were intact, well sort of. There were clear slash marks in his shirt and it was barely hanging on his body. The kevlar vest he wore underneath was showing through and had a couple bullets embedded into it. “At least you lived.” Kiyoomi heard concern laced in his tone of voice, but Atsumu was too far into his own head to pick it out. The assassin was barely standing on his own, Kiyoomi was surprised he hadn’t fallen over yet.

Kiyoomi started cleaning up the scene while Atsumu just stood there blankly staring at the wall. It was times like this that he remembered the contrast to the change in their personalities. He could remember the times in high school that Atsumu used to harass Kiyoomi during training camps and at tournaments in the hallways or on court. It made him miss the loud and egocentric Atsumu that he fell in love with on the court all those years ago, but at the same time, he knew he loved the broken Atsumu just the same if not more. He relished in the moments that he was able to see him. Even if it was only during really bad assignments or on an off chance he saw him in the hallways of the agency.

“Jesus, Miya, what did ya do to him.” Kiyoomi had started moving the semi-mutilated body to the body bag he brought with him. Atsumu managed to break one of the target’s hands, their nose, and a forearm plus a plethora of various bruises and cuts. “You wrecked his hand and face up, I’m surprised you don’t look worse.” That was just the visible marks on the body, but as soon as Kiyoomi picked up the body to move it, he could hear the cracking of the already ruined spinal cord. Motioning to the body bag, “Unzip that for me, Miya.” There was no response for a moment. “Atsumu.” He stagnantly snapped his head towards Kiyoomi with wide eyes. “Can you unzip the bag for me?” Kiyoomi softened his tone.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Atsumu relaxed slightly out of the state he was in, clearly still coming down from the adrenaline of the kill. “Thanks, Omi Omi.”

“Anything for you,” quietly slips out of Kiyoomi’s mouth before he can react. Shit, he thinks, hope he didn’t register that.

Atsumu stares at the cleaner for a minute. He definitely heard it, Kiyoomi thinks while internally cursing the dead body into its grave.

The silence hung in the air similar to the icicles. Kiyoomi finished moving the body and laying down chemicals and Atsumu sitting on the floor.

Kiyoomi moved to kneel in front of the man he wanted to be okay. “Atsumu? What do you need me to wrap up?” He gestured with the piece of antiseptic and gauze in his hands.

After a second of him seeming to lag in real time, Atsumu looked up into Kiyoomi’s eyes. “Omi?” Kiyoomi nodded in response. The blond shook his head as if to clear it, “I think it’s just my arm. Fix me up. He managed to slice me with the rock by bed. I think I’m alright, all things considering. Just tired.” While Atsumu talked on and on

Between the dazed look and how messy the hit was, Kiyoomi could tell Atsumu was exhausted. So he did the next best thing to kissing him and hoped Atsumu would forget about it in the morning. Kiyoomi moved his hands from where they were finished tying the gauze around his arm and took a deep breath, pulling off his gloves. He set his bare hands to rest on the sides of Atsumu’s neck. He fought the urge to look away from the eye contact they were maintaining, though he could see the surprise clear as day across Atsumu’s face. “Tell me what you need,” Kiyoomi spoke barely above a whisper as if he were scared of startling the other man. “I’ll do anything for you, if you just tell me what it is.”

More silence. Normally the silence would be comforting to both of them, but not right now. The tension was thick enough to blanket the atmosphere. It was suffocating; Kiyoomi could feel his legs slowly lacking more and more blood flow. For what felt like hours, couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

“Come home with me.” Kiyoomi blinked. Atsumu rambled on, “I mean look at me. I can barely stand, I’m asleep on my feet. Take me home and crash in the guestroom or something. I know you’ll harass me about making sure I clean this tomorrow, might as well just do it for me, Omi Omi,” he motions to the 2 inch wide section of his bicep now covered in a gauze wrap.

It was Kiyoomi’s turn to be shocked. “Okay.”

They stared at each other at the ease of the whole experience.

“I mean, you are right, I don’t trust you to take care of that properly.” Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows at the man on the floor. He was thankful that he had the face mask on so Atsumu couldn’t see the soft smile dancing on his lips.

There was a small spark back into Atsumu’s eyes at the slight jab, and Kiyoomi knew he would be alright.

Hey, Kiyoomi might not have had to kill a man for Atsumu, but he could at least dispose of a body for him.

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staruplatinum · 5 years

Text

A Night With Prosciutto

this was a commission for the lovely @babyybitchhh . It was so much fun to write this, I really enjoyed the Idea and i hope I did it justice! (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。also, fyi, im terrible at titles.

word count: 3,400

warnings: 18+, slut shaming, prostitution, cigarettes, rough sex, slapping/spanking, unwanted creampie, slight daddy fetish

*reader is female, translations/currency conversions are at the bottom!

Your mistress called down for you on one crisp evening in November. This was the usual for you of course, and a phone call from a client was not out of the ordinary, especially since the months were starting to get colder. Slipping on your housecoat, you were in the middle of doing your makeup. You trotted down the stairs to meet with her. She gave you an annoyed glance before proceeding to order you around.

“You have a client tonight, he’s willing to pay big.” She said, hanging up the phone and putting it back on it’s stand, the soft crashing sound enough to startle you.

“Pay big?” You asked, crossing your arms — almost as if you didn’t believe it. You were in this business for about two years now and on the higher-end of the scale. It wasn’t uncommon for men to say they would pay big, only to leave you with 65,000lire. This wasn’t a lot considering most of these men were Mafioso and had more money than they knew what to do with. You’d think that having sex with them - disgusting as some of them were- they’d give you more than that.

“He’s part of Passione, or something like that. I don’t really care. The point is, he saw your photo and asked for you in particular.” Your mistress added.

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. You should have known better. Lately, lots of men requested you because of how submissive you were, you were sure they were giving your name out to all of their buddies.

“Alright, what’s the address and when do I have to be there?” You asked.

“Vico Pallonetto Santa Chiara 8 80134” your mistress stated. “You are to be there for 7:00pm which, is in about an hour. I’ll have a cab ready for you.”

You had heard rumours about that area, nobody ever really went there because it was a sketchy part of town. You started to worry a bit, maybe this wasn’t a good idea..

“Wait signora, that’s a bad part of town!” You protested.

She shrugged and gave you another dirty look. “So?”

“So, I don’t want to go! What if something happens to me?” You asked, shaking slightly from the anxiety.

“This man is going to pay us big, and you will be going whether you like it or not. If we don’t hear from you by 10:00pm, we’ll send one of the guards to come get you. Now, go get ready. I don’t want to hear any more on the subject.” She said cruelly, before turning around and heading towards the kitchen with some of the other girls.

You sighed heavily as you made your way back up the staircase. The area was sketchy, and you had heard many warnings from other people in town to stay away. Upon doing further research, you heard that this was the area in which La Squadra Esecuzioni operated, the notorious assassins of Passione.

You never got involved with the mafia, you had no interest and you wanted to keep your nose clean, despite the fact that you had fucked a bunch of members already.

Having less than an hour to get ready, you finished your makeup, put on a tight black dress and wore a long coat over it all. Of course, you didn’t forget your black stilettos either. The thought of where you were headed was making you anxious, but you tried your best to mask the rush of nervousness.

As you headed downstairs you grabbed your clutch purse before being escorted into your taxi.

The ride to the location you were told to be at was long, about 40 minutes with all the traffic you had to endure. You had made sure to take “anti-anxiety” pills to help numb your emotions. The last thing you wanted was to have a freak-out and be in trouble with your boss. Plus, if this man really was going to pay well, you’d be in deep trouble.

Finally, just as the sun was setting, you were dropped off right in front of an old building, riddled with graffiti and blocked off windows. Your clicking sound of your heels echoed as you cautiously walked down the alley way, looking for the address.

“8 80134…” You repeated over and over until you reached a run-down door with that same address. You knocked cautiously, waiting for some sort of response.

Suddenly, the door opened, and you were greeted by a tall man smoking a cigarette. It was hard to make out his features due to the darkness inside and outside, but he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you inside.

Upon further inspection, you could see his face more clearly now. He was much more hotter than you expected, and he looked rather young. Most of your clients were older men, between 40-50. He looked to be 25, maybe 26. Either way, you were both close in age and that gave you some sort of ease.

The man looked you up and down, smirking as he took a drag of the cigarette. “sei davvero carina” he purred, before dumping his cigarette on the floor and stomping it out. You pushed some loose strands behind your ear, and muttered a soft “grazie” as you blushed.

“So.. where .. how should we do this?” You asked. Just as you did, you noticed at least 4 other bodies moving around in the background. Your eyes shot open with fear. Oh no…

you had hoped this wasn’t one of those times where you’d be gangbanged, that really wasn’t your intention for the night, even if you did enjoy it. Truth be told, you had just wanted to get this over with. The location and glares from the other men

“No no no Bella, you think I would fuck you in this shit hole? You deserve the best” the man said as he squished your cheeks with his right hand, making your lips pucker out.

He stopped briefly and looked behind him before yelling abruptly. “PESCI! Vieni qui!” The loudness of his voice shocked you, and suddenly you felt taken aback. Moments later, a tall man with spiky green hair, and a very apparent nervous face, approached you both.

“porterai me e la mia piccola puttana in hotel” The y’all blonde man asked. Ah, so he had planned to take you to a fancy hotel, how nice!~

Pesci nodded, and walked outside to one of the black cars that were lying around, he started it, waiting for you two to join him. The blonde man held out his arm for you to link yours with, and flashed you a toothy smile. “My name is Prosciutto, by the way.”

You smiled and blushed, before giving him your name. He really was attractive, probably the most attractive man you had got to do this with in a while.

Prosciutto opened the car door for you and escorted you inside before getting in and sitting with you. He had told Pesci where the location of the hotel was, and before you knew it, you were on your way once again.

The drive to the hotel wasn’t nearly as far as you imagined, it was only about 15 minutes before you arrived. As you sat in the car and looked out the window at the beautiful scenery, you felt the warm hands of your client snaking their way up your thigh and squeezing hard. You looked back at him, smiling softly as you watched him smoke another cigarette.

“grazie Pesci, guida sicura” prosciutto said as he tapped the hood of the car and watched Pesci drive off. He finished smoking his cigarette once again before escorting you inside the fancy hotel.

Apparently, the room had already been booked, paid for and everything. And by the time you reached the room, you felt your nervousness begin to show up again. However, it was a different kind of nervousness. You weren’t scared, no. For once you actually wanted to have sex and this man, who you barely spoke to made you weak at your knees.

You walked inside the fancy room and Prosciutto followed, helping you take off your trench coat. He hung it up for you before shutting the door behind him and guiding you over to the bed. You had to admit - this place was way better than the original address you were supposed to be at. At least here if anything happened you could run into the hallway.

Prosciutto came up from behind you and studied your body, admiring all your features. The dress you wore extenuated all of your curves, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. His hands glided up to your breasts where he gave them a firm squeeze. “Take this off.” He demanded, his voice hazy with need.

You nodded and complied, slowly pulling the straps of your dress down and following suit after with your bra. Your breasts now exposed in the air, Prosciutto smirked. “These are pretty nice” he said, as he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to gasp. “For a whore.”

His words took you back, but you were used to this kind of treatment by now. “It comes with the job description signore, but you flatter me all the same.” You added. Prosciutto just smirked at you before taking out another cigarette and lighting it.

“Alright, troia,” he said in between drags. “How about you put that mouth to good use?”

You knew what that meant. Nodding, You pulled the rest of your garments off completely, only leaving your stockings and heels. You complied with his orders; getting down on your knees. Your delicate fingers traced patterns over the growing tent in his pants before you began to unbutton them and zip them down.

“Let me take care of you, Signore”

Though he was only half-way hard, you could already tell he was big. Pulling down his underwear, your fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft as you slowly began to pump him. Looking up at him and batting your lashes you stuck your tongue out, making an ‘o’ shape with your mouth as you began to take him in. He looked so handsome from this angle- the fact that he was smoking made it all the more appealing. He put one of his hands on the top of your head, roughing up your hair as you started to suck him off.

This went on for a few moments, until he finished his cigarette, before he abruptly grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off.

You shrieked as his hands tangled in your hair, pulling the roots on your scalp. “Sorry Bella, but I don’t see any tears in those beautiful eyes,” Prosciutto said to you. “That means you’re not trying hard enough. If you want that 1,315,258lire, you better try harder.”

1,315,258lire?! That was more than anyone had ever paid to your business as a whole!

You nodded and grabbed his thick cock, pushing all 7 ½ inches of it down your throat slowly. “That’s more like it.” He cursed. He let you take him in slowly, but only for a little while. When he got impatient, he grabbed both sides of your head and began to fuck your face. It was too much, you could feel the prickly parts of his shaved pubes on your nose as he went as deep as he could. The head of his cock reached the deaphts of your throat, causing you to gag.

Soon, just as he wanted, tears were welling up in your eyes, mainly from the fact that you could barely breathe. Your throat made lewd sounds as you struggled to take his rough thrusts. Eventually you tried to push him back with your hands; nails digging slightly into his thighs. Holding onto a fistful of your hair, he pulled your head back, his throbbing cock just barely touching your lips. Your eyes were watery, and your mascara was leaking. You looked like you had been crying for an hour…

You puckered out your lips, trying to lick the Pre-cum off of his cock as you stared up at him with watery eyes. The tears had nearly blurred your vision. He was a little - no, a lot pissed off that you’d even try to push him off. Who do you think you are? He kept his cool though. The last thing he wanted was to ruin everything… so early.

Prosciutto noticed your tears and he got down on one knee, using his soft hands to wipe away the tears on your face. He held your cheek in his hand, gently caressing you. You leaned into his touch willingly as you sniffled — enjoying his comfort.

“Oh no Bella, you don’t have to cry-“

smack

In an instant, he went from caring to borderline abusive. He slapped you across the face hard enough to leave a red hand mark. Prosciutto kept his fist knitted in your hair and picked you up roughly, throwing you on the bed. “Get on your hands and knees, Puttana.” He demanded. You nodded, obeying him once again. As he asked, you were on your hands and knees with your ass up in the air, waiting for him.

He pulled his trousers down completely and got on the bed, gently rubbing circles on your ass cheeks. Of course this didn’t last long, as he started to spank you hard once again leaving red marks all over. While prosciutto thought you would be hurt by this, he was surprised to see that it turned you on. Not only did it turn you on, it caused you to moan.

“Ha. So this is why the slut is so popular” he thought to himself. Nonetheless, He placed the head of his cock at your entrance, gliding it up and down your folds to tease you.

His teasing was driving you insane! You bucked your hips backwards, hoping it would egg him on enough to shove his cock inside of you. But, Prosciutto was in no hurry, after all, he still had you for another hour or more. He wanted to make the most of his time. A shitty blowjob wasn’t enough.

As he slowly pushed the head of his cock in, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Grabbing another one and lighting it, he tossed his lighter on the floor as he steadied himself inside of you. Prosciutto took another long drag of his cigarette before pushing all the way inside of you and butting the cigarette out on your ass.

“Ah!” You shrieked as you looked back at him, a clear expression of pain and fear on your face.

“che c'è? The woman said you were experienced.” Prosciutto stated as he pushed in even further. The head of his cock was prodding at your cervix. You let out a long groan as you struggled to take his length.

“I-I am! But a warning would have been nice!!” You managed to screech out.

“Well here’s your warning troia, don’t tense up.” He barked, looking down at the small circular burn mark that now littered your plump ass cheek. Smirking, he couldn’t deny how much it turned him on. He loved taking beautiful whores and making them wither below him. He wanted to be the one to ruin them.

His hands traveled to your hips where he groped you hard, pulling you back into him as his thrusts became erratic. He wasn’t slow and soft about it at all - no. He fucked you hard and rough, he wanted to make sure that you felt him, and that your cervix would be bruised from how hard he was going.

Small pants and grunts could be heard from Prosciutto as he continued his assault, meanwhile you were moaning like a ‘whore’ as he called it.

His thirsts slowed and he bent over you, snaking a hand around your neck and whispering in your ear;

“Here’s what’s going to happen Bella. “ — he started, his soft breaths tickling your ear lobe. “You’re going to call me daddy. Understand?” He finished, biting your ear hard. That little stunt earned him a small squeak from you and a sensual nod as you tried to keep your composure. Which, was hard considering he was pressing your face into the pillows.

Prosciutto leaned back up, pulling onto your hips once again. His thrusts sped up again, and you could tell he was close, since they were so uneven. Your fingers grasped onto the sheets, struggling to get a strong grip by how hard you were being fucked. Prosciutto noticed this and just chuckled darkly before slapping your ass once again.

“Come on, Bella. Cum for your daddy” he growled.

You stopped thinking after Prosciutto said that. His left hand trailed down and began to rub rough circles on your clit. The pleasure was too much.

“Oh- fuck!! Daddy!” You moaned, louder than you should have. You were so close, you could feel it in your soul.

Just then a sudden thought popped into your head.

“D-daddy… please don’t cum inside…” you panted. Though you had sex many times before, you didn’t like when men came inside you. It was just a mess for you to clean, plus having to get the morning after pill was usually a pain.

“I’ll do what I want bitch, now keep quiet.” He growled. His fingers continued to massage you roughly and without warning you finally came, squirting your juices and throbbing around his hard cock. You moaned out the words “daddy” as much as you could. After all, you wanted him to be satisfied.

Soon after, Prosciutto came. Right inside of you. His cock pressed hard into your cervix, going as deep as he could so you could feel his seed leak into you. A wave of panic ran over you as he finally pulled out and you felt some of his seed leak down your thighs. When his cock was fully out of you, he spread open your cheeks, watching how red your cunt was, as well as your ass. You were going to have bruises there for sure the next day.

Using one of his slender fingers, he pushed the remainder of his seed back inside of you as you rolled onto your back, panting.

Prosciutto stood up, and cleared his throat while looking at you.

“Clean me up.” He demanded while pointing to his softening cock, which had both your juices and fragments of his seed on it. You felt dead for a moment - completely worn out and utterly upset that he didn’t respect you enough to pull out. However, you pushed that aside and got up off of the bed and kneeled on the floor.

You gently held his cock in your hands as your mouth engulfed him once again, sucking the residue off of it until he was satisfied. Prosciutto looked down at you. For a moment, he genuinely felt bad about what he had done to you, but then again.. you were just a whore.

He pulled his cock away from you and knelt down squeezing your cheeks and pulling you in for a deep kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth for a while before he pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“I’ll be calling you again, Bella.” He said, almost coldly.

As quickly as the night started it came to an end just as fast. Within minutes Prosciutto had his suit on once again - and a cigarette in his mouth. He wrote you up a check, the 1,315,258lire he promised was there, and suddenly you didn’t feel as bad as you did.

Prosciutto tossed you the check and rushed out of the hotel. He had business to finish with La Squadra, so he couldn’t stay for pillow talk.

Alone, you stayed on the bed, feeling his seed leak out of you and a few tears fall from your face. Part of you hoped you’d be able to see him again. He was rough, but he was one of the best clients you ever had… but part of you had a feeling you’d never see him again. Either way, he really did make you feel like a whore.

translations!

65,000lire = $50

1,325,258lire = $1,000

veini qui - come here

porterai me a la mia piccola puttana in hotel - bring me and my little whore to the hotel

grazie - thank you

guida sicura - drive safe

troia - slut / puttana - whore

signore - sir

che c’e? - what’s wrong?

#prosciutto #not sfw #commission #prosciutto x reader #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra #female reader #jjba

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horansqueen · 5 years

Text

AM Conversations : chapter 28

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k. -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- thanks for being patient btw! i work a lot these days and will work even more in the next few weeks (until halloween) so i may not update as often as i’d like. :(

- note for this chapter: please forgive me

-please, message me, give me feedbacks, it would mean sooo much to me!

Chapter 28 : His chapter

NIALL

I was happy to have found my best friend back. It seemed like everything was back to normal, or almost. I split my time between Liv and Maya and I was trying to satisfy both, although Maya demanded more attention than I would have thought at the beginning. We had our occasional disputes, I couldn't lie, and most of them were about my best friend, but I was trying not to think about it and I never mentioned it to Olivia.

"Niall? Are you listening to me?"

"Mm?"

I looked up from my phone to look at my girlfriend. She looked pissed and glanced at the plate in front of me. Most of the time, she preferred to eat out and it sort of bothered me but if it saved us from an argument, I was in.

"You barely ate anything." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

I looked at her plate and then back up in her eyes.

"Your plate is pretty full too." I argued, moving my chin a bit as my eyes found my phone again.

I wanted to mention that she barely ate at all but I kept my mouth shut because I knew it was a touchy subject for her. Still, I worried about her and I was surprised she insisted on going out to eat since she barely did in the end. Perhaps it was only to make people believe she ate and not get any question. I felt my phone vibrate and looked down at it, quickly typing an answer to the message I just got. The conversation about food seemed to be over but when I heard her voice again, my heart jumped slightly.

"What's so interesting on your phone, Niall? Can't we just eat together and talk?"

I sighed, maybe a bit too loud, and put my phone back in my pocket, feeling it vibrate again immediately but trying to ignore it.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

Her face changed and she looked down, making me believe that the conversation we were about to have was not a fun one. I breathed in deeply but subtly, trying to remain calm no matter what she'd say but knowing it wouldn't be easy.

Maya was more and more jealous as time went by. It had been a few weeks since Harry and Olivia broke up and since then, she had become a bit possessive and got mad almost every time i'd hang out with my best friend. She'd text me a few times an hour, ask many questions about what we did and said. and one time, she even showed up at Liv's, pretending she was 'in the neighborhood'. It was not easy and we had that talk a hundred times, but I was starting to think that things would never change.

"I've seen the picture." she let out, making me frown. I was about to ask her what pictures she was talking about but she continued. "Of you and her... kissing."

Once again she put emphasis on the 'her' which is something she always did when it came to Olivia. I couldn't remember the last time she actually pronounced her name.

"What are you..."

I didn't have time to finish, she moved her phone up and showed me a picture from the day before. It was all over google, or it seemed, and I could see a very bad picture from very far away of a supposed and obscure kiss between my best friend and I. The angle was shady and although it was probably not photoshopped, it also was clearly not what was happening for real. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my cold of pastas.

"You know it's just the angle, right?" I asked with an obvious tone full of judgement.

She breathed in, her facial expression turning into a angry one as she brought her phone closer to her, leaving it on the table. She moved closer to me, leaning against the table a bit, and sighed again.

"I think it is exactly what I see."

With my fork still in hand, i leaned against the table too to talk in a low tone.

"Three or four years ago there was a picture of Harry and I kissing that appeared online with a bunch of different articles titled ridiculous shit like 'Harry Styles' New Squeeze Is His One Direction Bandmate Niall Horan' and I can assure you Harry and I never kissed even if you would doubt it with the picture." I explained roughly but in a whisper. "It's what these people do, it's their job to start bullshit about celebrities. I'm sure you had your fair share. So if I tell you this picture is not real and that I was not kissing Olivia, then you should trust me."

She blinked a few times and shook her head and although I knew I hadn't convinced her of anything, I also knew she didn't have any argument to keep this fight going. Or I thought so.

"So you're not having sex with her?"

I choked on my beer and cleared my throat before swallowing hard. All I could think about was the time I fingered my best friend and how I came all over myself from it. It was very weird to think about it while looking at my girlfriend but I finally sighed. I hadn't touched Liv in that way or cheated on Maya again ever since and even if I couldn't pretend I hadn't thought about it, I had been physically faithful to her. Well, except that one time.

"Why would you even ask that?" I wondered rudely, a bit louder this time. "How many times do I have to tell you that she's just my best friend?"

I felt my heart jump in my chest as if i had just expressed a lie and maybe I had. Can someone really be just a friend if you also have sexual thoughts about them?

"Then why don't you ever make love to me?"

Her tone was rude but her voice was low and it seemed even rougher this way. It felt like a slap in the face and I held my breath, staring at her as the anger showed on my face turned into annoyance and a bit of embarrassment. I could feel my cheeks burn, not because I was not banging regularly a girl like Maya or because she was talking about it in public but simply because of the reason why.

"You know... love is a big thing and.."

"Fine." she cut me. "Why don't we have sex, then? Better?"

I cleared my throat without answering her question and licked my lips before looking up in her eyes. I was not having sex with Maya because I was too horny for someone else. It had never happened to me before but it was the truth. Maya and I fought a lot and argued and whenever it would happen, I clearly was not in the mood to be lovey with her. Even on our good days though, I couldn't do it. I had tried and we had a few times, but most of the time i'd find an excuse. Sometimes, i'd even wait until she was asleep to join her in bed, which resulted in many nights spent on the couch since I would end up falling asleep in the living room instead. The last time I had tried to have sex with Maya, I thought about my best friend and it felt so wrong that I had to stop and pretended I had a migraine. Yes, a fucking migraine. I was pathetic. I had this gorgeous model in my bed and I couldn't think with my cock for just an hour in order to shag her.

"I've just been tired and busy." I let out as if it explained anything. "Are you really mad about that? Seriously?"

She didn't answer but pressed her lips together, staring at me as I shook my head.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you." I pointed out, playing with my cold food by running my fork a bit too violently in my plate.

"If you're not getting it from me, you're getting it somewhere else. I know how men work, Niall."

I sent her a frown and then scoffed, shaking my head again. I couldn't believe we were having this discussion and it made me feel like shit. Did I really want to go through that all the time? Of course, I didn't imagine Maya and I to get married or anything and if I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn't even see myself dating her in the long run. Perhaps this whole relationship was not worth trying to save after all.

"Really now?" I asked, slightly pissed now. "You know how men work? Well then I hope you saw this coming."

I grabbed the cloth napkin I had placed on my lap and wiped my hands with it before throwing it in my plate a bit roughly and looking up in her eyes. She seemed surprised but I knew she knew exactly what I was doing. I leaned closer to her again and stared at her for a few seconds.

"I'm tired of this. We're done."

With an annoying noise, I pushed my chair back and got up, grabbing my coat and diving both my hands in my pockets as I walked away. I stopped when I met our waiter and gave him two bills of a hundred to make sure everything was covered and to apologize if we disturbed other clients. I just wanted to be far from here as soon as possible and I thanked him before leaving quickly.

I breathed in deeply when I stepped out, the cold winter air reaching my nose and making me feel suddenly lighter. Was it wrong of me to feel so relieved to be single again? Perhaps, but I couldn't help it. I waved for a cab and quickly got in but giving the driver my best friend's address instead of mine. I really needed to see her and I felt like I hadn't seen her in way too long.

---

I stood in front of her apartment building, my hands still in my pockets as the cab disappeared behind me. I didn't know if it was a good idea and I knew I was here unannounced but even if it hadn't happened in a while, we used to do that all the time. I wasn't sure she was there as I rang the bell but I decided that if she was not, i'd get inside and wait for her anyway, no matter how long it would take for her to come back.

It took longer than expected for the door to unlock and I put my keys back in my pockets, opening the door and rushing upstairs. When I knocked, the door opened slightly and Liv's face appeared, making my smile grow bigger.

"Hey, sorry I didn't call." I apologized, licking my lips. "Can I come in?"

I was excited to see her, impatient to tell her we'd get to spend more time together and explain that I was single now.

"Uhm, yea, of course."

She took a step behind and I pushed on the door slightly and walked quickly inside.

"So guess wh-" I stopped myself suddenly, my voice stuck in my throat as my smile fell. "Harry?"

My bandmate was there, sitting on her couch with half a blanket on him while the other was moved. She was clearly sitting there before opening the door and I noticed how close they must have been from each other. There was a movie on pause in the background and I tried to make sense of the scene in front of me.

My eyes found her again and I frowned, taken aback by the fact that I had not seen this coming at all. Perhaps I was too busy fighting with Maya to realize Olivia and Harry were hanging out again and I hated it. I hated it more than I could explain.

"Wow, really?" I asked, getting pissed for the second time tonight. "Him? Here?"

She frowned and shook her head a bit before shrugging but I didn't let her talk.

"You didn't even think to tell me that you two were spending time together?" I added, not giving her time to talk. "You didn't think to mention that you wanted to try again with him or that you had feelings for him again? What am I to you? Are we even still best friends?"

"Niall, it's not what you-"

"No, wait." I cut her. "I come here to tell you I dumped Maya and I find you cuddling Harry?" I shook my head and scoffed, slipping my hand in my hair and turning on my heels so my back was facing her.

"It's really not what you think, Niall."

Hearing Harry's voice pissed me off even more and I shut my eyes tight with a groan. I wanted to tell him to mind his own business but I was scared that this business was now his, too. I missed the days Olivia and I were both single and always together but it seemed like it wouldn't be happening again. At least, not soon. Fucking Harry. I knew I was mad at him for no reason but I couldn't help it.

"He's right." Liv agreed with him, twisting something in my stomach. "And we weren't cuddling."

I turned back to her swiftly, raising my eyebrows as my lips parted.

"Don't lie to me, I have two functioning eyes!"

"Oh my god Niall calm down!"

Her voice took me by surprise and I took a step back as Harry got up from the couch slowly and walked up to her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. That display of affection made me want to puke.

"I'll leave you two, call me okay?"

She nodded and he smiled before turning to me and giving me a short head movement as a goodbye. His hand slipped from her arm and I watched it, holding my breath the whole time. We waited until the door closed behind him and I breathed in but we stayed silent, just staring at each other. She seemed to glow and I didn't want it to be because of him. She moved two locks of hair behind both her ears and I surprised myself wishing I was the one who pushed them out of her face with more delicateness than the way she had done it.

I thought she'd propose me a drink and that we'd talk sitting on her couch but she just brought her arms closer, crossing them over her chest and bringing her shoulders up.

"Harry and I are just friends, Niall, that's all."

I hated that answer and it reminded me that I gave the exact same one to everyone who asked about me and her. Why did I have such a hard time believing it when it came from her mouth? Perhaps it was because it was hard to believe when it came out of mine.

"I'm not getting back with him, Niall."

I sighed and shook my head, bringing my hands to my hair and pulling on it a bit too hard. I don't know why I was getting so mad but I couldn't help it. It was raising inside me like a volcano near boiling and I closed my eyes, pacing quickly in a small circle and letting out a few groans. I couldn't seem to ease the anger I was feeling and it was making me even angrier.

"You know what? I don't believe you!" I let out.

"Why?" she asked with a frown, taking a step closer. "I won't go back with him!"

"And why wouldn't you go back with him mm?" I asked a bit too loud, throwing my arms in the air in a ridiculous way. "He's perfect, he clearly still has feelings for you and you two didn't really have any reason to break up."

"Because... that's not how it works, Nee." she replied, shaking her head and avoiding my eyes.

I blinked a few times, staring at her, breathing in as my hands formed fists. I could feel my nails digging gently in my palms and the word escaped my mouth in a yell. "WHY?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU OKAY!?"

Silence. All I could hear was the pace of my heartbeats accelerating in my chest. My muscle loosened and I opened my hands as my shoulders fell.

"What?"

My voice was low, almost inaudible.

"I love you Niall. I'm in love with you." she added, swallowing hard. "I've always been. Since the day I found out what love was, I knew the love of my life was you. I didn't stop loving you, not even half a second. It's always been you, and no one else."

"That makes... no sense." I whispered, shaking my head and taking a step back despite myself.

"Except it makes all the sense in the world, Niall, don't you think?" I watched her tilt her head on the side and it hit me just how vulnerable she looked. "Don't you think we make sense?"

"As best friends, yea." I explained now completely calm. "As.. maybe a bit more than that, sure. We make sense as ambiguous best friends that people question, okay, I get that."

I stared at her, unsure if my heart had stopped or was going too fast for me to feel the beats. Weirdly, I wanted to take her in my arms and beg her to take her words back so everything could go back to normal. Why didn't I see this before? Or did I? Why didn't I want to see this before?

Her emotions changed, her face softening but also turning into a sad expression. I felt like shit, I felt out of place, I felt guilty... and all these feelings couldn't seem to make me find the right words.

"But Olivia, you and I? As a couple?" I shook my head, raising my eyebrows and bringing my shoulders up. "No, it doesn't make sense. It wouldn't work."

I was searching for her eyes but she was avoiding any contact and we remained motionless and in silence for a few minutes. It was awkward and I couldn't put a finger on the last time it was awkward between us.

"Do you love me, Niall?"

Her eyes finally met mine and my lips parted at her question. I pushed my hands deep in my pockets and shook my head slightly.

"You always ask me that question. My answer is still the same."

She took a step closer and my gaze followed her. The closer her body was getting, the harder my heart was beating. Why did this have to happen?

"I mean real love."

She didn't try to add anything else, we both knew what she meant and we both knew I was avoiding the question. She took an other step closer and I looked down in her eyes as her chin moved up. My eyes roamed in her face, trying to memorize every single detail : the way her tin lips were slightly parted, the way her green eyes had an halo of gold around the pupils, the way her button nose moved up delicately when she talked. I brought one of my hands to her cheek, slowly and gently, and ran my thumb on her skin. She looked on the verge to cry and I didn't want to admit that I felt tears coming, too. I was losing my best friend.

"I can't." I just said, taking a step back and feeling my hand slip from her face before letting my arm fall. "I'm sorry."

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to stop my whole body from throbbing and finally just shook my head before turning around.

"Niall..."

I swallowed hard and breathed in without turning back to look at her.

"I'm sorry."

And then I did the worst thing I could have done. I left.

----

My whole body was burning and throbbing and I stopped running as soon as I was out of her building, holding myself on my knees with my hands, my eyes closed. It felt horrible, like I was trapped in a closed elevator in-between two levels... like I was stuck in a secluded and locked place without being able to get out. I had a hard time breathing and I tried to concentrate on inhaling and exhaling to get back to normal.

It took a while but when my crisis was over, I moved up again and searched for my phone in my pockets. I realized my hands were shaking when I tried typing a message but I finally hit 'send'. It took me longer than I thought but I eventually found a cab and ended up in bar, sitting on a stool and drinking a beer. I was twisting it in my hands without tasting it, probably warming the liquid with the palm of my hand pressed on the bottle. I felt someone sit next to me but it's only when I heard his voice that I looked up.

"Six tequila shots." Louis ordered, looking at the barman before turning to look at me and then back at the man behind the counter. "No wait, make it eight, please and thank you."

"Oh I'm not getting drunk." I pointed out with a frown.

"Fuck yes you are." Louis chuckled. "I'm seeing your face and you clearly need it. What happened? You broke up with Maya?"

I scoffed and looked back at my beer, taking of sip of it and grimacing slightly.

"That's not why I asked you to meet here, I just needed company."

I was not sure if it was a lie or if it was only half a lie but it didn't matter. Louis knew me too well and when he laughed, I knew he didn't believe anything I said. The barman came back and aligned the eight shots in front of us as Louis handed him a bill and my eyes roamed on the shots slowly.

"Let's drink half of them then you can tell me what the fuck is wrong Neil, okay?"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname and grabbed one, quickly downing it and turning the shots around, putting it back on the counter with a light thud before grabbing the other one and doing the same. My throat was burning because of the alcohol and so were my eyes but there was clearly no link with the shots. I rubbed both my eyes and sighed again but when I turned to Louis, he was waiting.

"Olivia told me she loved me."

Louis blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Okay... and?"

I opened my eyes in surprise. I had expected a different reaction : a loud laughter, a shocked expression, or even a grimace... but indifference? No, I hadn't seen that coming at all.

"And?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows. "She loves me, Louis. She LOVES me."

This time, Louis laughed and shook his head, pushing an other shot on the counter to get it closer to me.

"Because you're gonna tell me you didn't know before she told you?"

He grabbed a shot and brought it to his lips. I watched him as he swallowed the third and the fourth, grimacing and finally turning to look at me. I was not really sure why it was Louis I had called. Probably because he was the first contact I found, or maybe because I knew he was going to tell me things the way he sees them. He was going to tell me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear.

"N-No..."

"Then you're a fooking idiot, Niall."

"Thanks Tommo, that really helps." I let out with sarcasm, raising my nose and drinking my last shots before grabbing my beer again.

"So, you two are dating now?" he asked, taking the cigarette from behind his ear to place it between his lips.

My face twisted in an other grimace and my nose raised up at his words as he took his lighter out of his pockets. I watched as he lighted it up and inhaled a long puff, letting the smoke come out from his nose. I was not even sure it was allowed to smoke in this bar.

"No, of course we're not dating. I don't.. We're not..." It seemed like I couldn't finish my sentence and I sighed a bit too loud.

"Let's face it Niall. The only thing that would change if you two started dating would be holding hands and having sex. It doesn't sound too terrible does it?"

He tapped on his cigarette and the ash fell on his napkin before he licked his lips. I tried to think about having sex with Liv every day and holding her hand... I tried to think about cuddling her at night, dancing with her in the living room, having conversations in the AM all the time. Louis was right, most of those were things we already did.

"But dating means love, it means a steady relationship, it means being faithful and owing your time and heart to someone. it implies a lot more than I can give her. I can't give her that."

"Can't or won't?"

"I hate you, Tommo." I groaned, grabbing my beer again and drinking what was left of it.

"You're scared, that is pretty obvious." Louis said, his lips moving a bit as he shrugged. "But it's time you man up and admit how you feel. Or i'm telling you, mate. You're gonna lose her. And this time, it may be forever."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #my fanfics #amc #i just want to post the next chapter tbh!!!

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 26 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluff (i mean it, you’ve been waiting for this for too long)

words: 5.7k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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You woke up in your own bed the next morning, your room freezing even though all the windows were closed. And yet, even despite sleeping all by yourself and having to get out of bed and walk across the room to locate your phone, you still couldn’t help the smile on your face. It was two mornings in a row now that you’d woken up feeling almost elated even though it was barely six—

Except it wasn’t.

The phone, once you finally located it, had betrayed you by showing six-fifty instead of six sharp. The alarm hadn’t gone off. Probably because you couldn’t remember setting it last night after you stumbled into your bedroom, hazy and almost intoxicated from your evening of doing laundry with Jaebum.

Waking up with a good mood was fun but you’d lose all chances of still smiling today if you were going to be late to work – which was more than just likely considering the fact that you had to be at the gallery in forty minutes and you were still standing in the middle of your room in pajamas, not having showered or eaten yet.

Naturally, you spent the next half an hour running. You were in the shower before you even finished brushing your teeth, and you were grabbing your wrinkled hoodie from the dryer and pulling it on before you even had enough time to properly dry your hair. You knew you’d get a lecture for not following the dress code – the hoodie could hardly pass off as ‘casual chic’ – but you had no time to waste looking for clean clothes that would be more appropriate. You ate breakfast by the mirror as you applied your make-up and ended up having to pack your handbag while you were unlocking the door of the apartment, desperate not to be late.

Obviously, despite your attempts, you still did not get there on time and Eva – who was friendly with you as long as you did your job right – was forced to take on the role of a strict supervisor. Immediately after she saw you arrive late and disheveled, she gave you a five-minute speech about how unprofessional this was – even though the gallery was empty and you wouldn’t have had much work to do anyway – and then, little to your surprise, she took a moment to point out that your attire was not exactly fit for someone who worked with expensive artwork.

“I’m sorry,” you said hopelessly. “I didn’t have time to look for anything else to wear, I just grabbed the first thing I found in the dryer. I promise I won’t show up here wearing hoodies again, I—”

“No, I hope you won’t,” Eva said. “It’s one thing to show up to the gallery in a hoodie – you know those sexist assholes from above expect all girls to wear skirts here – but it makes it worse if it’s obviously… uh, menswear.”

“It’s not—”

You stopped, looking down at the clothes you were wearing. The long sleeves that you kept accidentally getting wet as you tried to wash the dishes this morning should have indicated that something was wrong and yet you didn’t have a free minute to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that you were not wearing your hoodie. You were wearing your roommate’s hoodie. It was black, too, and the material had felt just like yours – no wonder you mixed them up.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you tried again but Eva just rolled her eyes. “We were doing laundry last night and I just—”

“Save it,” she said. “You’ll work somewhere away from the clients, yeah? Try to check if the IT team needs any help, they’ve been working on the projectors on the second floor before the exhibition. And make sure this is the last time you show up to work in someone else’s clothes. You’re the only bearable person around here, it’d suck for me if they fired you because of something as trivial as not following the dress code.”

Eva’s words always made it difficult for you to understand if she was actually complimenting you but you nodded and hurried up the stairs to find the IT team she’d mentioned. It was only when you noticed the name on the entrance board of the Photography floor of the gallery that you realized that they were preparing for Jiho’s exhibition that was to take place tomorrow night.

This day had already gone wrong far more times than you thought you could handle and the relief you felt when you took a deep breath and walked down the hall towards the exhibition room only to realize that Jiho actually wasn’t here today was indescribable. Perhaps you’d get through today okay after all. You still had the memories of last night to keep you sane – or to drive you insane, depending on which memories you chose to focus on – and, furthermore, you had Jaebum’s hoodie to remind you whom you’d be coming home to later tonight.

Jaebum started to smirk almost as soon as you unlocked the door of the apartment after you got home from work. It wasn’t cold enough outside for you to wear a coat yet, so he could see his hoodie on you even in the dim lighting of the hallway. You, on the other hand, had no idea he was standing in the kitchen, his eyes following you as you entered the apartment and locked the door behind you so, naturally, once you turned around and caught his look, you flinched, nearly dropping your keys.

“Jesus,” you mumbled, watching his smirk turn into a full-on grin. “Say something, would you? I thought I was alone here.”

“No, you never are,” Jaebum replied, his voice full of teasing and nothing else. “You always, uh, carry a piece of me with you, apparently.”

He was right – he just didn’t really realize it.

“You mean the hoodie?” you asked, your face void of any expression. “I was in a hurry this morning. Forgot to set my alarm last night. I grabbed the first thing I found and because you were smart enough to suggest leaving our clothes in the dryer overnight, I ended up—”

“Hey, I was just trying to make sure you got enough sleep,” he cut you off, the same smile on his face letting you know that despite defending himself, he wasn’t actually mad at you – but you could have guessed that from the way his eyes kept wandering to his piece of clothing on your body. Anger was the last thing he was feeling.

“Oh, I did,” you sighed. “Clearly.”

“Did this get you into trouble?”

“Kind of,” you revealed. “But it’s not your fault. I thought I could sneak around with a hoodie because wearing an actual, presentable shirt meant ironing it first and I had no time for that. Eva did not seem to think so—she’s my—”

“Supervisor,” he finished for you. “I remember.”

“Right. Well, she would have rather seen me show up an hour late than show up in something that violated the dress code,” you explained. “So, don’t worry, you won’t see me accidentally wear your clothes again.”

Jaebum sighed – the same smile still on his face – and walked around the kitchen island, heading towards his room but stopping on the way.

“It’s a shame,” he said, not turning around to face you. “I think my hoodie looks really nice on you.”

You thought it was impossible to feel both extremely hot and extremely cold at the same time and yet there you were, in the middle of a very contradictory whirlpool of emotions that Jaebum didn’t notice because he entered his bedroom without waiting for your response – which was good because the only response he would have gotten from you was your shocked, open-mouthed expression.

You may have been thinking about changing into something that was actually yours as soon as you got home but as you looked down – the material of Jaebum’s baggy hoodie falling around your frame – you figured you weren’t in that big of a rush to change. Even if you couldn’t smell his cologne on the clothes after having washed them last night, you could still feel him, and aside from that being comforting, it was also invigorating in a way. For Jaebum too, apparently – it had somehow cleared his mind and sped up the beating of his heart to know that you’ve been outside, around other people, in clothes that were his, and others have noticed.

You couldn’t really get a chance to have another exchange with Jaebum, however, because shortly after stepping out of his bedroom again, he gave you a quick wave – and, of course, a smirk – and then headed out to see Jackson at his studio, leaving you alone, preparing dinner for yourself in his hoodie, feeling as though this was exactly the kind of domestic life you’ve never even dared to dream of.

Living with Jaebum had proved to be much different from what you’d expected, but, then again, that shouldn’t have surprised you much because you’ve never lived with anyone who wasn’t a member of your family before, so you didn’t really know what to expect in the first place. And yet, obviously, the first few weeks here weren’t ideal – actually, no, they were awful. How you were still living in this apartment with Jaebum after all that had happened was beyond you. Lots of people would have moved out after the very first argument – which, in your case, happened immediately after you saw each other face-to-face for the first time – but you and him just kept going.

At first, you might have wanted to prove a point: you could keep the silent, petty fight with him going for as long as he wanted to. He broke your bed? That’s fine, you’d take his bed instead. He turned the hot water off? That’s fine, too. You’d leave his water bottles out in the sun after he got back from his jog to get back at him in the pettiest way possible.

But then Suji materialized. Or was it Jiho who made her return since Jaebum had said he wouldn’t have texted her if it weren’t for him? Either way, all of a sudden, this fighting no longer involved just you and him, and the battlefield no longer consisted of just your apartment. Now, your life got entangled with Jaebum’s life and no matter how sharp the sword was – or how out-of-line your last conversation with Suji was, or even how heartbreaking Jaebum’s comments about getting his heart ripped out of his chest were – you could not seem to get this knot that tied your lives together to break.

Somewhere along the way, you’d started to fall in love with him and ever since your last fight, you’d been anticipating every moment you’d spend with him because you never knew when you could lose him. You never knew when there’d come a sharper blade – a bigger challenge – that would pose a much more serious threat, and your intertwined lives would slowly start to unravel. It hadn’t happened yet and the chances of it happening now that you were slowly working on your friendship were even slimmer, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t possible.

You and him have both gone through a lot – both, together and separately – and both of you were programmed to be paranoid about something, but, when you were together, it seemed worth it. All of the hours you’d spent drowning in desperation to figure him out seemed to mean nothing now that you’d finally gotten some answers to your questions. All of the nights you’d spent staying awake, dreading the next morning because you never knew what to do or say to your roommate, completely disappeared from your memory when you found yourself waking up in his bed again.

You liked the idyllic peacefulness of your apartment when both of you were in the kitchen, eating opposite of each other, not saying a word, the silence around you comfortable instead of awkward. You liked the conversations you’ve had even if you ended up yelling at each other later because, at least, you were talking. You liked to catch the sight of his sleeping features when you headed for work in the morning. You liked the smile on his face and the glitter in his eyes when he saw you come home afterwards.

You liked it all. You liked him.

And, all of a sudden, waiting to see Jaebum again – waiting to talk to him again – was like waiting for the sun to rise in the morning. Like waiting for your heart to beat again.

It was inevitable just like it was crucial. You knew it’d happen and you knew you couldn’t live without it if it didn’t.

Unable to resist smiling every time you remembered what Jaebum had said before leaving – “I think my hoodie looks really nice on you” – you were forced to put your headphones on when you sat down in your bedroom to finish editing – or staring at – the pictures you’ve taken in Jackson’s studio. If all you could do was just smile and shake your head each time you thought of him, you’d never finish making up your mind if the pictures really didn’t need altering or if you were so far lost in your feelings that anything that involved Jaebum just seemed perfect to you.

Music did seem to help you feel more objective. You realized that some pictures needed a little more sharpening – just to accentuate the features of the person in them – and others needed the lighting and the saturation reduced – to fully confirm that the theme of the improvised photoshoot was romantic in an overwhelmingly mysterious way; kind of like Jaebum himself.

However, after finishing editing half of the pictures you’d taken – you refused to delete any of them, even if you ended up finding more than a few completely identical ones – you were starting to lose yourself in your emotions again, and not even the music could help you stay focused this time. Suddenly, every song that started to play was a love song. Every line that the singers sang – or whispered – into your ear, reminded you of Jaebum, and while you didn’t mind thinking of him, you did want to keep your sanity for a little while longer.

You moved out of your bed and onto the floor of your room, hoping that this small change of surroundings would help. You changed the music into something that wasn’t as obvious – Jaebum would hate the abstracticism in these lyrics – and carried on with your work.

And then, an hour later, for—probably—the twentieth time since you moved in, you found yourself jumping up in terror when you heard someone clear their throat in your room. Honestly, for someone who constantly had Jaebum on their mind, you truly were never aware of his presence even though you knew very well that he was not the biggest fan of knocking.

Taking your headphones off, you exhaled deeply – not even scolding him for scaring you again, he seemed to know that already based on the way he was grinning – and fixed your hair.

“Home already?” you asked, meaning to find out if coming home was just one stop before he headed out someplace else tonight, or if he was truly home.

“Yeah,” Jaebum replied. “Sorry I burst in here, I just didn’t find you in the kitchen when I returned and I thought you’d left.”

“Ah, yes, because the kitchen is where you’ll always find me,” you replied.

“I mean, usually, that’s where we hang out.”

“It’s not hanging out if it’s just me.”

“Alright, fair enough,” he sat down on the floor next to you, “that completely ruined my excuse for coming into your room.”

Turning away from him when he lowered himself against the wall until he was sitting right next to you, you clicked a few buttons on your laptop, turning Photoshop off.

“There doesn’t, um—you don’t need a reason to enter my room,” you said slowly, your eyes lingering on your desktop wallpaper.

“Yeah?” he asked you, undoubtedly pleased to hear you say that. “So, I’m always welcome here?”

You gave him a look – mustering as much fake-annoyance as you could. “Not with that attitude you’re not.”

He chuckled and, after a moment of silence, lowered his gaze to your neck and shoulders. He didn’t say anything but the sight of you still wearing his hoodie even though, at this point, you were home long enough to change into something that was yours, actually made him excited. Happy, even. It was a weird thing – you haven’t even done anything, let alone attempted to make an excuse why you were still wearing his clothes, and yet, he found it heart-warming to still find you sitting here, a hoodie that was technically his—although, truth be told, it looked ten times better on you—covering your body.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, unable to endure his burning gaze any longer. You enjoyed having him so close – it was somehow cozy to have him sit on the floor of your bedroom with you – but, at the same time, the attention his eyes were giving you was slowly starting to suffocate you in a way that was both good and bad.

“Me? I’m uh—” Jaebum looked away from you. He was absolutely not going to reveal all the ways he’d imagined exploring the material of his hoodie as he took it off of you. “I’m thinking about tomorrow. It’s Friday.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Got any plans?”

“Not really,” he said. “I’ll probably stay at Jackson’s studio the whole night again since he’s leaving on Saturday morning and I won’t get to work with him for a while.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you?” Jaebum asked, already making a mental note to himself to alter his plans if he found out there was a possibility you weren’t going to do anything tomorrow night.

“Well, I was supposed to attend Jiho’s exhibition,” you said, “but there’s no way in hell I’m going there now, so… uh, no. No plans.”

His eyes widened at the mention of Jiho’s name. “Oh, that’s this Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not going?”

“No,” you said with a sigh. “I mean, I didn’t really think about it much – maybe it’s childish of me not to go, but I just… I figured, if I don’t feel like going, why should I go? I’m done proving points to people I don’t care about and I’ve got nothing to prove to myself, so—”

“I don’t think you should go, either,” Jaebum said, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them or come up with a plausible excuse why he’d said them.

You turned to look at him. “You don’t?

“Y-yeah, I mean—” he hesitated. There was really no right way to explain his urge to keep you away from any guy who might realize he was romantically interested in you, after all. Jaebum didn’t quite understand this urge himself yet as he continued clumsily, “it’s like you said, you don’t want to go. And going just so you’d prove to him and to everyone else there that you’re completely unfazed by the, uh, misunderstanding... That’s just pointless.”

“Stupid, you mean.”

“Yeah, okay. That, too.”

You sighed, putting your laptop on the floor next to you. “Guess I’ll stay home and edit then. That’s what I used to do on most Friday nights of my life, anyway.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Jaebum said. “One day, you’ll spend your Friday nights preparing for your own exhibition and all of the nights that you’d spent editing will seem worth it.”

Surprised by his words, you felt your eyebrows shoot up.

“You think I’ll ever manage to host my own exhibition?” you asked, the genuine insecurity in your voice coming off as a shock to Jaebum – you knew he was insecure about his talent, but he had never really thought how insecure you were about yours.

“Of course,” he said, no hesitation this time. “I bet if you submitted your portfolio to any gallery, you’d get an offer immediately.”

You scoffed, the illusion of a successful future slowly dissolving. “You took it too far.”

“No, I mean it,” Jaebum insisted, feeling a pang of guilt inside his chest for not assuring you about how good you were at what you were doing like you’d been assuring him from, basically, day one. “I think your pictures are amazing and, you saw that Jackson liked them, too. What’s stopping you?”

Slowly, you raised your eyes to his and allowed them to stay there for a moment.

“The same as you, I guess,” you said, looking away. “I’m afraid I won’t achieve anything and will lose motivation to continue. I’m afraid of failing.”

“You’re the epitome of not using your own advice,” he told you.

You smiled slightly. “It’s easy to give advice. The hard part is following it.”

Jaebum considered what to say next but no right words came. If your positions had been reversed – like they had been a hundred times before – and it would have been you trying to convince him that everything was going to be okay, you’d know exactly what to say. Jaebum loved that about you. Actually, he would have loved it even if you had stayed quiet because just your presence alone was reassuring enough already, but he didn’t want to dwell on how much he appreciated having you in his life right now.

“Have you tried to send your pictures to any galleries before?” he asked finally.

“No—well, not exactly,” you replied. “I had to do it when I was still in university, but the galleries accepted every picture from the graduating class. It was their job. I haven’t tried that again since.”

“You should.”

You smiled again. “You say I don’t follow my own advice and there you are, doing the same thing.”

Jaebum frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t played your song on your radio show,” you said, looking at him.

“Ah,” he was the one who looked away this time. “Well, these things are different. I wrote a song about… a person. It’s sort of plain and obvious which person I mean, so, I’d probably have to talk to her before I air the song, and, you and I both know, I’m not a great talker.”

Your heart rate sped up at the thought of him talking to Suji and you almost regretted proposing the idea, but then you took a deep breath and managed to calm yourself down enough to respond to him in a way that seemed rational to you.

“Creative freedom,” you said. “You’re not supposed to talk to anyone if you don’t want to. You don’t mention her by name in the song, and, not to be dismissive, but I think the majority of songwriters write songs from experience. That is, about past relationships.”

“Right,” Jaebum said, swallowing. “And then, let’s say, the song succeeds and I’m actually asked by someone what it’s about. What do I do then?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Whatever you want to do. It’s your life. You don’t have to share it with anyone if you don’t want to. The mystery about you would draw even more people to listen to you, I’m sure.”

“Hmm,” he considered this, a grin forming on his features. “A mysterious look. Is that the concept I’m going for?”

You laughed.

“I hate to break it to you, but you have no say in this,” you said. “You’re naturally a mysterious person.”

“How am I mysterious?”

“Do you seriously have to ask me that?” you raised your eyebrows. “We’ve lived together for a month and, every time I look at you, I feel like there’s still miles and miles of unexplored territory behind your eyes.”

His heart seemed to have skipped a beat or two after you said this – it was either that, or he was having a heart attack.

“I’m not saying that it’s bad—on the contrary, I think it just shows what a deep person you are,” you tried to clarify, the soft tone of your voice putting countless of bulletproof vests on his wounded heart — it did not fix the damage that’s already been done but it made sure to protect him from any further pain. “Even in the pictures that I took in Jackson’s studio; you’re not even trying and you still look like you’ve lived a thousand lives and have a million stories hiding inside your soul.”

His throat was dry when he tried to speak, “can I—can you show me those pictures?”

“Oh,” his request seemed to wake you up from a trance you’d inflicted upon yourself when you tried to explain your feelings about him to him. “Well, I haven’t really—they’re not finished yet. To be honest, I don’t really know what to do with them.”

Jaebum swallowed before continuing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t know what to do with them,” you repeated, picking up your laptop and opening your gallery. “Every time I take a picture, I have an idea in mind. And then, when I look at the picture I’ve taken, I start to edit to make sure that idea comes to life, you know what I mean? Like, for example, if I take a picture of the night sky, I think I want the stars to represent—I don’t know—loneliness, or whatever. So, when I open the same picture on Photoshop later, I make sure to adjust the colors, the exposure, the—everything in a way that would accentuate the loneliness I thought I’d seen in the stars when I photographed them.”

“Okay,” he said, mesmerized by your voice as you explained this. “And you don’t have this idea you’d want to accentuate with the pictures you took at Jackson’s studio?”

“No,” you said. “It’s like the idea is already there in the picture. T-that’s never happened before. I don’t have to edit anything because everything I wanted to say with these photographs is sort of obvious already. All I did to these pictures is just… sharpening the edges. Maybe turning the lightness down a little, too.”

Scared that he’d be able to recognize your feelings when he would see himself through your lens, you started him off with the pictures you’d taken while he and Jackson were still in the recording booth. The pieces of equipment looked dull but they had a certain vibe around them – the room in your photographs represented anticipation. Something magical was about to happen there.

You flipped through the pictures, only stopping when you heard Jaebum inhale a little sharper than usual because he saw himself on the screen of your laptop. This picture was—arguably—your favorite one out of the bunch. It was the one that only displayed one side of his face – the twin moles above his eye and the small smile on his lips completing the photograph – and his outstretched hand.

“This is good,” Jaebum spoke up. “I-I don’t mean myself, I’m not the one I’m complimenting, I—wow. You’re good.”

“Thing is, I didn’t do anything,” you said, dragging your cursor down the side of his face in the picture in a mock-caress because you couldn’t exactly touch his face in real life. “It was all you. You made the pictures special.”

Jaebum didn’t reply and you carried on, showing him every single picture that you’ve finished editing before he interrupted you by showing up in your room. You lingered on some longer, repeatedly insisting how he possessed the “unearthly ability to make every photograph look special” – and then cringing at yourself because, God, could you have been more obvious about your feelings for him? – and then moving on again.

Once you reached the final picture – the full body-shot of Jaebum as he read his notes, his features concentrated and eyes glazed over with something that could only be described as passion for all that he was doing in that moment – you took a deep breath and, finally, started to speak.

“There,” you said, “you and your natural glow that makes my pictures look far better than I’ve ever expected them to look.”

“Huh,” Jaebum’s breath was right by your ear – he had scooted closer to you so he could see the pictures better. “I-I don’t—they look good. Really, really good. You’re an amazing photographer, I swear.”

“It’s not me,” you said, looking down. “Honestly, I’ve never taken pictures of real-life people before—aside from the university assignments, anyway—but it’s obvious that photographing you basically means not doing anything because… you do it all for me. You make the pictures look special.”

You wouldn’t have been able to look at him even if you wanted to as your heart refused to cut off your ability to speak because, with every beat inside of your chest, your soul longed to release the pent-up affection inside of you.

“I—I don’t think that’s the case,” Jaebum said, pulling away from you just slightly so he could look at you better. You’ve been avoiding his gaze for most of tonight and that did not change now as you didn’t allow for your gazes to meet.

“You’re just being humble,” you said, your eyes set firmly on the screen of your laptop.

“No,” he insisted. “Do you want to know what’s special about those pictures?”

Looking down so you could see the edges of his face out of the corner of your eye, you chose to give him the benefit of the doubt, “what?”

“You took them.” Jaebum said simply.

“What? No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just told you, I take plenty of pictures. None of them feel or look special like these do.”

“N-no, I mean, you took them,” Jaebum disagreed, “I get that it’s me in the pictures and I might sound like a self-involved ass when I say this, but, if it’d been someone else behind that camera, the pictures wouldn’t have looked this good.”

You gathered enough courage to shoot him a look.

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “You look good through every camera, I’m sure.”

“It’s not about the camera. It’s about who’s behind it.”

Blinking, you remained unsure of what he was trying to say. “W-what?”

“It’s you,” Jaebum said, his eyes locked on yours in a way that stopped you in your tracks. You wanted to look away again – his gaze was far too powerful, you were sure you were going to explode from all of the emotions it made you feel – but, as he kept on talking, you found yourself completely and utterly frozen. “I only have that… “natural glow” or whatever you called it because it’s you in the room. Because I know you’re looking at me through your camera. I only look special in the pictures because it’s you.”

You weren’t breathing and it wasn’t just because of what he’d just said. You found it difficult to inhale when you realized—yet again—just how close to you he was sitting. It was even harder to exhale when his eyes traced your features to your lips.

If you glanced down – and you did – you could see his parted lips and the mere millimeters that separated them from yours.

If you brought your tongue over your lips on instinct – and you did – you could almost taste him, too.

If he leaned in just a little bit more – and he did – you could smell his cologne, the scent overpowering your mind and completely shutting it off.

If he closed his eyes and leaned in, removing the remaining bits of the distance between you and him – and he did – you could read him in ways you’ve never read him before.

If he pressed his lips to yours – and he did – you’d feel the taste of the mystery you’d been dying to unravel.

Jaebum kissed you and the time seemed to stop.

The ethereal atmosphere in the pictures you’ve taken felt like the most boring storyline in comparison to the feeling of Jaebum’s lips pressed against yours and his hand, entangled in your hair, as he gently pulled you closer to him. What started out as a tentative kiss had turned into a lingering one as the two of you lost the battle against the magnetic pull coming from somewhere deep inside of your chests.

The kiss wasn’t magical; it was completely real, starting from the way he’d tilted your face to get a better angle, and ending with the way your lips fit perfectly between his without any effort. You’ve kissed him before – drunkenly and sloppily – but that felt nowhere near as real as this had.

And the reality of the situation – as well as the refreshing taste of peppermint on his soft lips – was what made you both pull away a moment later. Breathing heavily, you watched each other, letting your eyes do the talking as your minds tried to understand what had happened. They weren’t successful, however, and you didn’t blame them. Understanding where the kiss had come from didn’t seem as important as immediately recalling how good it’d felt was.

“I—” Jaebum spoke up, removing his hand from your hair and clumsily lifting himself up from the floor of your room. Your eyes followed him as your parted lips struggled to get a breath of air in as though Jaebum had been the sole provider of oxygen for you and, by ending the kiss, he’d cut your supply off. “I’m going to go.”

He turned around before you could inspect his expression or say anything, stumbling out of your room while you watched him, wide-eyed and still very much frozen in the same position as if that could have turned back the time and got you to experience the powerful feeling of your bodies connecting through your kiss once again.

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

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Just Like a Woman - Part 10

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 4.3k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Okay so I didn’t proofread the smutty part of this I’m sorry but I get lazy, y’know? I hope you still enjoy. Just ignore any typos lol

Warning(s): Smut in this chapter! It’s romantic and stuff ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 here we go!!!

Your jaw dropped as you watched Roger walk up to the stand and take his oath. When had he agreed to testify? And for the defense? Was he really so desperate to have his say that he would undermine the whole case? You shot daggers at him with your eyes.

“Mr. Taylor,” Glen began. “Can you tell us a bit about what your father was like?”

“Objection!” you interjected. “Relevance.”

Judge Walsh gave Glen an annoyed look.

“You’ll see what I’m getting at, your honor,” he said.

“Speed it up,” Judge Walsh instructed. “Or I will hold that objection sustained.”

Glen looked back at Roger.

“Mr. Taylor, your father was an abusive man, was he not?” Glen asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with Dominique’s case,” Roger returned, frowning.

“I think it could have everything to do with her case,” Glen retorted. “You and your ex-wife, did you ever fight?”

“Sure we did,” Roger said. “Like any other couple, we had our moments.”

“Ever get physical?” Glen asked.

“What?!” Roger cried.

At the same time you stood up and repeated, “Objection! Move to strike!”

“Overruled,” Judge Walsh said emphatically. “Counsel, you can’t object to questions only because you don’t like them!”

“Your honor, I want it on record that I object to this witness, I object to this line of questioning, and I object to opposing counsel’s being a complete and unmitigated ass!”

“Counsel!” he scolded, banging his gavel. “Sit down and let Mr. Harrington finish! If you raise one more objection today I will hold you in contempt, do you understand me?”

Cheeks red with anger and hatred, you scowled at him. Bill forced you back to your seat. You folded your arms across your chest and once again glared at Roger, hoping he could feel the heat of your rage.

“To answer your question,” Roger began again. “No, any disagreements between Dominique and myself have always been resolved with words.”

“Until you had to bring lawyers in,” Glen remarked.

“That’s not fair,” Roger said. “When it comes to issues of money -”

“And the cheating?” Glen pointed out.

“I cheated,” Roger admitted. “Dominique was faithful until that day she went on this date. But at that point, our marriage was effectively over.”

“You didn’t like that, did you?” Glen asked. “The fact that she had a date?”

“Who would?” Roger replied. “It was a pretty harsh reminder that my marriage was done.”

“Did it make you angry?” Glen pressed.

“Yeah, a bit,” Roger said, rolling his eyes.

You squeezed yours shut. If the jury didn’t think Roger was taking this seriously, it would look bad. You saw where this was going, and you knew it would only make him angrier.

“Angry enough to behave like the late Mr. Taylor?” Glen asked.

Roger stiffened. His jaw clenched. You could hardly look at him. You saw the hurt and fury slowly overtake his body. But he was remaining impressively calm. He took a deep breath and then looked icily at Glen.

“No,” he said.

You could tell how much will power it was taking for him not to spit at Glen in that moment. You felt the same. Angry as you were with Roger for doing this, you hated Glen right now more than his client. He turned and looked at you, a slimy smile on his face.

“Your witness,” he said.

Bill looked at you questioningly. You composed yourself and nodded, letting him know you had this. You stood up.

“Mr. Taylor, have you ever once put your hands on your wife or any woman?”

“Never,” he said.

“No further questions.”

You sat back down.

After Roger’s testimony, you were released for lunch. The trial would continue the following day. You and Bill stormed out of the courtroom, each on one side of Dominique. You didn’t bother to wait for Roger, but he jogged up to you anyway. You retreated into a chamber down the corridor.

“I can’t believe you!” you shouted at Roger as you slammed the door behind the group. “I told you yesterday that you aren’t a relevant witness! Why would you agree to testify for the opposing side?!”

“I wanted an opportunity to stand up for Dom, I didn’t know he was going to ask me all that!” Roger shot back.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?!” you cried. “All the jury needs is a little bit of doubt to find him not guilty, and you’ve just given it to them!”

“Oh, please, my alibi is totally secure,” he returned.

“We wouldn’t have to even worry about it if you didn’t get your dumbass on that stand in the first place!” you almost shrieked, completely exasperated. “You’ve hurt us, Roger, you could at least be sorry for it!”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me testify on our side!” he yelled.

“Because I was doing my job, you daft -”

“HEEEEEEY!” Bill bellowed, banging his fist on the table.

You and Roger looked at him.

“Everybody calm the fuck down,” Bill said. “This was a setback, but we still have a strong case. What Glen did in there was a desperate, Hail Mary attempt to throw us off. We still have Dominique’s amazing testimony, Miss Thomas’s, and all the forensics. So both of you just relax, alright?”

You shot another harsh glare toward Roger and then took a seat. The shock of Roger’s testimony left you winded, but you were also terrified. If the jury now had a doubt that Nick was the culprit behind the attack on Dominique, you knew Roger would never forgive himself.

Just then, Glen burst into the room.

“What the fuck was with that witness?” he demanded. “Calling me ugly? Are you just trying to make me look stupid?”

“Hey, don’t you come in here making demands like that after what you did!” you retorted, jumping to your feet again. “You called Roger up just to try and frame him when you know that was rubbish!”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he replied, tone softening. “Sure I can’t convince you to ditch blondie and grab a drink with me?”

“Alright!” Roger intervened, stepping closer.

“We are in the middle of a trial,” you said to Glen. “Could you act like a grown up?”

“Believe me, after seeing your legs in that skirt, my thoughts are entirely adult,” he said. “I actually started to get jealous of blondie since he gets to put his face between those gorgeous thighs every night.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’d gone too far, but Roger lunged past you, going for Glen. You and Bill each grabbed one of Roger’s arms, yanking him back.

“Roger!” you cried, incredulous.

“He crossed a line!” Roger bellowed. He glared fiercely at Glen. “Don’t you EVER talk about her like that!”

“HEY!” Bill interjected again. “Roger, settle down. Glen, get the fuck out.”

“I still want to know about that witness,” Glen said.

“She was the one who found Dominique, how could we not call her to the stand?” Bill argued. “Lucy Thomas is just a cold bitch by nature, we can’t help that.”

Roger was still glowering, breath heavy and chest heaving.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Glen. “But I’m not going to take any more of that nonsense.”

“Oh, but you expect us to tolerate yours?” you retorted.

“Y/N, that’s enough, we’re not doing this,” Bill said.

“Bloody ridiculous,” Glen muttered as he swept out of the room.

The door swung shut behind him. You rounded on Roger.

“What’s got into you?” you cried. “Are you trying to make this worse?”

“I was defending you!” he argued.

“OH MY GOD BOTH OF YOU SHUT IT!” Bill interrupted once again.

All eyes were on him.

“Emotions are running high right now,” he continued. “I’m going to get some lunch. Y/N, you’ve got the rest of the day off. Roger, do whatever the hell you want.”

You blinked. “You’re sending me home?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re riled up and snappish and frankly, I don’t want to talk to you for the rest of the day.”

You flared up, offended, but he stopped you from speaking with a look. Then he turned to Dominique.

“Dom, can I get you some lunch?” he offered.

“Throw in a drink, and I’m there,” she said.

She took his arm and they left together. The door snapped closed once again and you looked at Roger.

“I appreciate you defending me, but after the argument he made in there, you can’t act like that, Rog,” you said, as calmly as you could. Inside, your emotions were swirling around like a hurricane.

“What I did was human,” Roger replied, voice also steadying. “All I want to do is defend the people I love.”

“Well, don’t,” you said sharply.

“Fine,” he snapped. “I won’t, then.”

From the look on his face, you knew you’d struck a nerve. Roger had never looked at you with so much disappointment and anger in his eyes. Not even during your worst fights. This was a new level. It made your heart sink. But when he went for the door, you didn’t try to stop him. You watched him go, feeling like a bad lawyer and an even worse girlfriend.

You walked home from the courthouse. All your frustration was gone by the time you opened the door. You half hoped that Roger would be there and you could both apologize and make up. But he wasn’t. Your flat was as empty as you felt. With a heavy sigh, you set down your work things and went to go change. Only, when you got to your bedroom, you had no energy to do so. You kicked off your shoes, flopped face down on your bed, and let out a sob. You cried yourself into a deep sleep.

You woke a couple hours later to a knock on your door. Brushing your fingers through your surely mussed up hair, you forced yourself from the bed and went to answer it. You knew who you hoped it was, but you couldn’t be sure Roger would be standing there. You left things so tense.

To your shock and pleasure, it was him. He looked rather like a dog with his tail between his legs as you opened the door. You felt the same. You had behaved no better, in your opinion.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly.

“Hey,” you returned.

A beat passed.

“I’m so sorry,” you said in unison, and you both chuckled a little bit.

“Come inside,” you offered. “We should talk.”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

He came in and you went to the kitchen. You made some tea and handed it him a cup before sitting down across from him.

“I’m sorry I testified for them,” he said. “Glen called me and asked me if I’d be willing to tell my side of the story. I had no idea he would go that direction.”

“You can’t trust opposing counsel,” you said. “Especially the likes of him.”

“Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson,” he conceded. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Dominique’s case, I just…”

“I know you want to protect people, Rog,” you said, reaching over to take his hand. “That’s your natural instinct. And I admire that about you. Few people are as selfless as you are. But you can’t always be the one in the ring, okay?”

“I know,” he said. “And again, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you returned. “And I’m sorry too. I just got scared because Dom means a lot to me too and I don’t want her to go through all this only to lose.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” he said. “I think we both forgot ourselves today because we care so much.”

“I told you having me might backfire,” you joked.

He smiled. Another pause passed between you.

“About Glen,” he said. “I’m also sorry I exploded like that. But I won’t apologize for defending you, he -”

“No, I agree he crossed a line today,” you cut across him. “That was way too far. Especially since we haven’t….y’know…”

“I know,” he said. “And when he said that today...just talking about you like that - even him thinking of touching you - it made me absolutely mad with rage. Because that connection we had...even back in the day...it was practically sacred to me, Y/N. To hear him say that, and make a mockery of it….I just couldn’t take it.”

You looked down to hide your blush. The sex was that meaningful to you as well, but you never thought he was so sentimental about it.

“D’you remember when we used to?” he asked. “How you’d look me in the eyes?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The memory made heat stir in the pit of your belly.

“Yeah,” you said, finding the courage at last to look at him. “Of course I do.”

“No one else has ever looked in my eyes, y’know, during,” he said. “I felt like I could….I dunno, see your soul or something. I’ve had sex with plenty of women. But I’ve only really made love to one.”

You were certain your cheeks were redder than cherries at this point.

“Roger, I….” you trailed off. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea it all meant so much to you. Especially with the way you left.”

He hung his head. “I know. But I hope you believe me.”

“I do,” you assured him. “I just wonder what made you think of all that?”

“Glen’s comments today were a part of it,” he said. “But also, a few weeks ago, you said we couldn’t because my divorce wasn’t final. But, it’s final now, and I’ve been thinking about being with you ever since I signed that paper.”

Your blush impossibly deepened.

“Plus, seeing you in that courtroom is incredibly sexy,” he added with a laugh.

You laughed too, relaxing you a bit.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted. “I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” he wondered. “By my memory, we were very good.”

You smiled. “I think I’m just afraid that if we try, then what we had before might not be there. And then what?”

“Y/N, it’s gonna be there,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I love you and you love me. That passion is there. Which is especially clear after today.” He took a deep breath. “But if you’re not ready, we can wait.”

You didn’t reply right away. Honestly, seeing him leap to your defense the way he did had turned you on, though you didn’t want to admit it. And every time he kissed you, you remembered how good it felt to go further with him. But your fear was real. What if it wasn’t the same as it used to be? There was only one way to find out.

“Roger?”

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

He almost jumped out of his chair to come around the table to take you up in his arms. He lifted you to your feet and claimed your lips in a tender embrace. He moved slowly, giving you the opportunity to stop him if you wanted. But you wanted the opposite.

You opened your mouth against his, and he reacted immediately, slipping his tongue between your lips. The kiss was heavy with the pent up desire you had both been feeling. Your mind was fuzzy, like getting drunk, but you were acutely aware of his hands sliding up your sides. His thumbs brushed your ribcage, just barely touching the underside of your breasts.

You whimpered into his mouth and reached for the buttons of your blazer. He helped you shrug it off your shoulders and it fell to the floor. Beneath, you had just your plain white tank top and pencil skirt. He stopped kissing you to look over your body in the form fitting clothes. You saw the hungry look in his eyes and bit your lip.

Your lips already itched to feel his again. All of your skin was tingling with the desire for his touch. You watched him observe you, chest rising and falling with your deep, desperate breaths.

When he met your gaze again, you couldn’t contain it anymore. You crashed upon him. Pressing into him to be as close as possible. His arms snaked around your waist to hold you there, his eagerness to be close as evident as yours. Then his hands made their way south and he gripped handfuls of your ass.

You gasped and let out a husky breath, pushing even further into him. He groaned and you felt his hardness pressing into your lower stomach. You stopped kissing him to catch your breath and reach for the buttons of his shirt.

“Fuck that,” he panted, and he pulled it over his head while you giggled.

When his shirt had joined your jacket, you had your turn to admire him. You ran your fingers delicately down his torso. His skin was warm.

“I guess we should be matching,” you teased, and you tugged your tank top off as well.

Roger’s eyes on you as you reached back and unclasped your bra had you reeling. That was what you missed about making love to him. No one else had ever desired you so passionately.

With your breasts free, he took direct action. He cupped one in each hand and squeezed gently, massaging them before tweaking each nipple between his fingers. Your head fell back with a groan as the sensation sent more heat straight to your core. He attached his lips to your neck, whispering into your skin.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, love. God, I’ve missed you.”

You whined in returned, arching your back toward him. He pulled you close again. The heat of his body sent a chill up your spine.

“Wanna move to the bedroom, love?” he asked.

You nodded. He scooped you up and carried you in there as you giggled. You yelped with surprise when he tossed you on the bed and crawled up to join you. The next kisses were fervent and needy. You moaned again.

Roger’s fingers moved down your front and nimbly popped the buttons of your skirt before tugging the zipper down. You did not wear panty hose. You liked the way your legs looked without them, and you knew you could distract an opposing male lawyer if need be. You played dirty too sometimes.

You pushed your thong down your legs as Roger worked off his jeans. He groaned at the sight of you bare before him, sprawled out and breathless from his kisses. You smirked at him with cat like playfulness as you sat up. You gently pulled the waistband of his boxers down, slowly, watching his face as you went. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline from your torturous pace.

“Fuck, baby, I need you,” he sighed.

With a grin, you swiftly removed his boxers, and he kicked them off the bed. Then, you took hold of his hips, rubbing soft little circles into the slightly protruding bones. He hissed with anticipation.

Then, you gave him what he wanted. You licked a stripe up his cock. A loud groan came from his throat. You swirled your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down. He let out such a delicious moan your mouth watered around him.

You began with a slow pace. Dragging your mouth forward and back, teasing him. His short, eager breaths egged you on. You saw him trembling trying to maintain control, but after you hollowed out your cheeks and really sucked, his hips jerked forward. You almost gagged, but held back.

“Sorry,” he choked out. “God, it feels so good.”

He buried his fingers in your hair and pulled you off of him. That was typical. Roger preferred not to cum in your mouth, and he refused to finish before you had gotten one or two orgasms of your own. Usually more.

You licked your lips and looked expectantly at him. He took your shoulders and lay you back. Your legs fell open for him. He got onto his knees there, but didn’t settle on top of you. Instead, he kissed you again. He teased your lips with his tongue, and you opened up. He explored your mouth, getting you all hot again, before pulling away.

He nipped and sucked along your jawbone and down the soft skin of your neck. He trailed across your collarbones, down your chest - briefly stopping to suck on each of your nipples - and then made his way down your stomach. He slowed down the closer he got to your pelvis. Roger was not an explorer trekking out into new territory. He was coming home. He recalled every sensitive spot on your body. What made you moan, sigh, and giggle. He exploited this knowledge to the full extent as he made his way down. It made your whole body light up with excitement and need. Finally, you whined impatiently and pushed your hips up.

With a cocky chuckle, he took his tongue to your folds. You gasped sharply as your back arched. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked lightly, just how you liked it.

“Oh! Roger!” you cried, heels digging into the mattress.

He moaned into you, the vibrations sending an extra thrill all the way up your body. You’d almost forgotten how extraordinarily well he used his tongue and mouth. He was zeroed in on your clit, making you writhe around as you released pathetic whimpers and soft cries of his name.

The pressure was building inside you as he worked your core with his mouth. Your voice raised several octaves and your legs quivered as you hurtled toward the sweet release. When you were on the cusp, he sank a finger into you. You groaned so deeply you felt him smile against you. He curled his finger toward himself, pushing on your g-spot with expert precision.

“Rog - oh fuck!” you nearly sobbed.

He added a second finger, stretching you just slightly. Your walls clamped down around him as he drove you further toward the edge.

“Please, please,” you begged, panting.

He sped up, knowing just what you needed. Between the flicks of his tongue and the thrusts of his fingers, you were there. Your legs stiffened, your back arched high off the bed, a scream tore from your throat as it hit you. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, and Roger did not relent as you began to come down, shaking with the sensation of it all.

He eased you down, slowing his pace before removing the contact. Your body quivered. He smiled, pleased with himself, and he crawled back over you again to help with the shivering. Hot as you were during, you were always cold after an orgasm, so he held you a moment.

You were panting too hard for him to kiss you properly, so he peppered your face and neck with pecks. When you giggled, he knew you were okay.

His hips settled between your thighs, and you gasped as his cock brushed your entrance. Then you moaned.

“Ready for more, sweetheart?” he asked, running his finger along your jaw.

You nodded. “Please, more.”

You didn’t even worry about sounding pathetic. You could be anything with Roger - strong, weak, pathetic, needy, vulnerable, bitchy, sweet, sexy - all of it. Any side of yourself was accepted and loved by him.

He rested on his forearms, cupping your face between his hands, and he slid into you. It was like magic. He fit so perfectly inside you - with just enough stretch to make you whimper with need. You both took a moment to revel in being together again. Being completely united.

You locked eyes. You understood what he meant earlier. Your souls met behind your irises. You had never felt more connected to him. And from the soft look in his eyes, you knew he felt the same.

“I love you so much,” he sighed.

“I love you too,” you returned.

You turned your face and took his finger into your mouth, a weakness of his. His eyes fell closed and his hips rutted forward, deeper into you. You squeaked with surprise and then chuckled, moving to match him.

You fell easily into a rhythm together. It flowed as naturally as the tides. Roger filled you with each thrust, and you climbed slowly together back up to the edge. His name escaped your lips as he rocked into you. Delicate declarations of his love and your beauty swept off his breath. You didn’t hear them, but you felt them.

He sped up and it was like coming out of a fog. Each snap of his hips shook you and you clutched onto his shoulders for dear life. Your moans rose in volume and octave as you found yourself clenching around him again.

“Oh - Roger - Oh God -”

“I’m so close, baby,” he grunted. “Please, one more for me.”

He removed his hand from its proximity to your face and slid it between your bodies, finding your clit as if it were magnetized. He rubbed tight, fast circles on it, and your vision began to blur.

The second one hit you harder and more suddenly. White exploded behind your eyes as your walls fluttered around his cock. Roger cried your name once more and spilled into you, slowing down his thrusts as you peaked together. You twitched against him as he guided you back down steadily. He slowed to a stop and watched you panting beneath him.

He inched himself out of you. You still winced at the feeling. Once he was able, he rolled off you and you crawled into his arms. You needed his warmth.

“Mmm, Rog,” you hummed, pulling him closer.

“Good?” he asked.

“Incredible,” you replied.

“I don’t wanna speak too soon, but I think we’ve still got it,” he teased.

You smiled lazily. “We do.”

“What do you need now, love?”

“Sleep,” you said through a yawn.

He chuckled. “Of course you do.”

He kissed your forehead and you both drifted off. All worries about your relationship and the trial were forgotten. For now, you could just be.

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thegeminisage · 5 years

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merlin thots about the s5 opening episodes.......

here’s your courtesy cut

one of my favorite things about s5 so far is how very nicely arthur and merlin have both 1. grown up and 2. grown into each other...they still give each other shit 24/7 but it’s a lot more companionable and comfortable now than it ever has been. furthermore, both of them exhibit the use of MULTIPLE braincells even at the SAME TIME. they work very well together as a team even in the heat of battle (we did see shades of this near the end of s4), despite merlin being kind of useless at physical combat when he couldn’t rely on his magic for a boost. they can have entire conversations without a word and they’re just INCREDIBLY synchronized. the whole #vibe has really gotten a level up

timeline-wise, it’s been roughly a decade since season 1. in s1 they said the purge began 20 years ago (upon arthur’s birth), and shortly after, he had a coming of age ceremony - 21′s an important number, so in season 1 arthur began as being 20 and turned 21 before the end. season 2 = 22. gap year for s2-s3 = 23. season 3 = 24. s3-s4 gap year = 25. season 4 = 26. 3 gap years betweeen s4-s5 = 27, 28, 29. season 5 = 30. i don’t know how long it was in real life between seasons 4 and 5 (definitely not three years), but i really do feel like they’ve both aged SO much and they absolutely act like people who have known each other for a decade.

gwen as queen is AMAZINGNGLSDKJGHDSLFG she’s SO PRETTY i love her SO MUCH. love that she has her own serving girl now! this is what she deserves

the round table is good too altho it looks a bit too big for that room. it’s amazing though like...FUCK uther pendragon arthur has come SO FAR

merlin being nice to the new girl is very charming. makes him seem older and w-w-WISER (love that word) by comparison

also love that merlin gets to ride a horse while some of the footsoldiers walk. that’s #status. that’s *** ******

pretty sure i had a stroke during merlin’s vision of arthur’s death. the whole thing was done SO well - they go from the battlefield and arthur’s incredibly dirty face as he very realistically looks like he’s falling down and dying and then cut to a very alive and present arthur asking what’s wrong. you can really FEEL the whiplash, and also the dread settles in nice and deep, at least it does if you’re me and you’ve read spoilers, like, “only you can keep arthur safe” BUT I KNOW HE DOESN’T I KNOW HE CAN’T I KNOW HE FAILS and merlin might as well know it too because he looks ready to CRY and thru the rest of this 2-parter opening he acts like he thinks arthur may drop dead at any moment

i feel like i read somewhere once that actors don’t like to eat during a scene unless absolutely necessary because when you do 30 takes of something you get very full very quickly and some even go so far as to have a spit bucket just out of sight so that they can just get rid of it without having to eat any more. which makes it absolutely bananas to me that so often in merlin the characters are not only eating but eating very quickly as though they really have been roughing it in the wilderness all day & are absolutely famished...they don’t have to show them eating so often BUT THEY DO

arthur getting merlin into a tight spot by insisting he perform, planning on laughing at his failure? funny. merlin ACTUALLY USING MAGIC TO TEACH HIMSELF TO JUGGLE so that he could watch arthur’s jaw hit the floor? PRICELESS. i wonder how long it took him to do that, he definitely wasn’t using a body double

merlin is acting so bleak and dire in these episodes that even mr no-empathy himself asks him whats wrong, multiple times. they’re doing a VERY good job at really driving home the fact that arthur’s time is running short and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. merlin’s so sick with dread he’s making ME sick with dread. arthur’s here and being his normal dumbass self but the distance between them feels HUGE during the moments merlin is thinking about arthur’s impending doom

arthur all “i cant believe u can juggle i didnt even know you could catch” and then throwing the boots at merlin only for merlin to NOT CATCH THEM and arthur goes “see explain that” and merlin goes “wish i could” and i D I E

because he’s KNOWN HIM FOR A DECADE and he still can’t explain the magic and at this point it must feel like to him that he never, ever will UUUUUGH it’s funny how they can feel so close to each other one second and like THIS the next i am DYING

the little conversation they have when they make camp the next night is the same. the sad music plays, merlin keeps looking at arthur like it might be the last time he sees him, and arthur keeps insisting on asking merlin what’s wrong and trying to make him feel better...they’re really for real friends!!! they’re so serious and grown up!!!!!

ive lost count of how many times either merlin or arthur has been nearly dead and had to get hauled around by the other one

also of how many times merlin used his magic in a way that should have been obvious to bystanders and wasn’t

“if morgana doesnt kill you i will" “threatening a king is treason merlin” “what about threatening an ASS” listen. look me in the eyes. this is TOP TIER banter

remember how in the early seasons they’d bend over backwards to leave plausible deniability when expressing affection? like “we’d be good friends if you weren’t a prince” or “you’re not wise or anything but yeah you’re wise” or whatever dumb toxic masculinity bullshit...those days are OVER with. merlin speaks DIRECTLY from the heart. “i’m worried about you” and “i swear i’ll protect you or die at your side” he is not fucking around even a little bit. this fool is in love

they were ALMOST cuddling when they slept together under that overhang

the two of them trapped in that net was PRICELESS. in the early seasons i got a little tired of the frequent slapstick/juvenile humor and wished the series was a bit more serious but now that they’re here i cling to every shred of levity with my whole heart

i was SO relieved to realize gwen wasn’t actually planning on killing that poor girl - i kept saying the entire time it was very out of character for her, no way could she be that cruel

arthur: “you wanna kill me fine but my last request is for you not to kill merlin” merlin: “you wanna kill arthur fine but you’re gonna have to go through me” arthur: “for fucks sake”

merlin: i never do as i’m told! that’s *** ******

i dont care if mordred DID save their lives i NEVER wanted to see him less i am so full of dread

i can’t BELIEVE morgana also has a pet dragon. she and merlin could have been the BEST foils and i’m STAYING mad about it. she was actually so good in this episode - way less full of evil smirks - that i briefly rejoined the morgana defense squad and got REAL pissed when mordred eventually shanked her, ESPECIALLY after she was so happy she was nearly crying to see him again. WHAT IS IT WITH THAT KID AND STABBING PEOPLE KNOCK IT OFF

the snowy environments in this episode were soooo good. the scenery was just...top fucking tier and it’s nice to see them somewhere other than the same old places. also like NO allo but arthur looks really nice just wandering around through a bunch of fucking snowbanks with dirt all over his face

arthur and merlin’s little ploy to steal that dagger by arthur faking a collapse was SO GOOD. they’re SO IN SYNC. i was THRILLED. better still: he winked when he was done. he used like FIVE WHOLE BRAIN CELLS AT ONCE and he was ALMOST as proud of himself as i am proud of him. what a guy, that arthur pendragon

their escape was really good too. the nonverbal communication? top tier! they just give each other little looks and then proceed to wreck the whole scene. doubly funny when the slaver is like WHO SPILLED THAT STUFF and arthur just kind of jerks his head over at merlin. snitches get stitches, YOUR HIGHNESS

i barely felt one whole emotion for sefa or her dad but him dying was like. sad. this show is sad. why the fuck am i watching it. i hate character death. they were hugging

arthur seemed like he was having just the time of his LIFE sneaking into that big ol tower of doom. dude was all cute little quips and smiles. popped his head outta that lil minecart like a kid at christmas

i love also that you give percival nothing but a single sword and in short order he goes about liberating all the slaves, killing all the slavers, and then reappropriating their swords to a better cause. he’s a one-man army. i was SO impressed. and he really looked like he was having fun too

merlin seeing that lil baby dragon again was SO fucked up and sad. why can’t it TALK :(((

also lmao “merlin you cant be that stupid” “no i am if you dont believe me watch” and merlin bolts and arthur sighs with SO much longsuffering and says “im going after him”

the light in morgana’s eyes when she talks about wanting to have arthur’s head and then her stabbing him over and over without actually killing him...she’s batshit insane. rip

i do like that arthur sort of TRIED to talk her around...it’s the first time he’s really gotten to speak with her since the end of season 3 when he found out who she was

on a final note, though, i am less than thrilled with the knighting of mordred...how is it arthur can KNOW who he is, that he’s a druid, and can do magic, and LET HIM INTO THE KNIGHTS, and still have sorcery be outlawed in camelot?? it doesnt make any SENSE

#personal #merlin blogging #the preview for 5.03 played after this ep was over #i dont usually watch them on the first try bc idw spoilers #but i watched it this time #and it SPOILS it a little bit #im glad i didnt watch and got to be shocked

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dy1kjxxa-blog · 5 years

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How can i get Health insurance?

Hey looking for advise on how i should go about getting health insurance. I m 18 turning 19 in March my father is passed away and i live with my mother we recently moved to Arizona I m from Massachusetts i knew about mass health but never had to deal with anything due to always being insured by my mother and fathers works. Looking for what i should do Also i do not have a job as of right now I m looking for health insurance so that if i get hurt while doing things such as snowboarding an break a bone or something i don t have to pay a 12,000 bill when i have no money Thank you for any help

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