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ficmashup · 4 months

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Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Yes, this is the last chapter, no, it is not the end of G and Price. It is the end of the regular updates. When I write fic, it's a break from my usual writing for my job. So, I can't do both. I'll definitely be posting more stuff though! :) I hope you all have enjoyed!

Warnings: Slight SA mentions if you squint, crass language.

Word Count: 3.2k

Feral Masterlist

It’s such a joy walking around London with Price on my arm as he shows me his favorite places. Each new place lets me see a new side of him, lets me peel back another layer that he doesn’t let everyone see. Not to mention he’s wearing a blue sweater that matches his eyes and I quickly decide that he should wear more sweaters. Especially when it begins to snow while we’re walking through a park and he gently pulls me into his arms with my back pressed against his chest. He’s so warm and fucking cuddly and all I can imagine for a few moments is curling into his lap in front of a crackling fire.

“This is a good look for you.” I say softly as I turn to face him, his arms still around me and my hands curled against his chest to light pat the sweater.

He smiles, raising a brow. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Want to get you a little beanie to match.” I reach up and let my fingers scrape over his beard affectionately while he stares down at me with sparkling eyes.

He hums and leans down to press his lips gently to mine, his arms tightening around me. “I’ll keep that in mind. Think I have a beanie somewhere in my flat.”

I smile against his lips and let myself feel stupidly giddy for a little bit. “You’ll have to wear it for me sometime.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting my hands fall back down against his chest. “I’ve had women ask me to wear a lot of things, but a beanie is new.”

Curiosity pulls my brows up. “You’re going to have to tell me what you’ve dressed up as now.” He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as I lean into him to get an answer.

“Ah…well, there’s the uniform, obviously.”

“Obviously.” I repeat, smirking at his playfully scolding look.

“I’ve had requests for a policeman, fireman, real serviceman based, apparently.”

“Can’t say the roles don’t suit you.” I tease and enjoy the slight pink tint to his cheeks as we start walking again and he keeps my arm tucked into the crook of his elbow.

He shrugs a shoulder. “There are definitely worse things.” He states with a shake of his head and I have a sneaking suspicion that he hasn’t told me all the things he’s been asked. But I’ll wait for another day to find out. “What about you?” He asks gently, his voice soft as the snowfall around us in case I don’t want to answer.

I look away, pressing my lips together while I feel my cheeks get a little hot. “I’ve done the usual. Lifeguard, nurse, cat woman, but the most requested has to be Princess Leia and the gold bikini.” My eyes wander back to Price and I can’t help grinning when I catch him nodding. “That something you’ve requested, John?” He clears his throat and his gaze drops to the ground for a few moments.

“I…might not be exempt.” He admits and I can’t hold back a giggle as I lightly squeeze his arm.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I say and feel his eyes on me as we keep walking through the gathering snow on the ground. Intimacy like that might be far off, but it’s nice to be able to talk about it so openly without feeling pressure or fear. It’s just fun.

* * *

The next day, I take him for breakfast in a favorite diner of mine. We meet there and there’s a wide grin on my face when I see him come in wearing another sweater and a beanie. I slide out of my booth to greet him while he holds his arms out to his sides slightly for appraisal. “I approve. You look very…cozy.” I tell him and give him a fond kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough.

“So do you.” His fingers lightly pull my jacket a little tighter around me and straightens my scarf.

“Think you might’ve realized by now that I run a little cold.” I say with a little tilt of my head and he nods, his eyes looking me over as if he didn’t just see me yesterday. He lets me guide him into the booth, giving me a cute little smile as I sit next to him instead of across from him. An older waitress named Dana comes by immediately.

“Hey, darlin’. What’ll it be for you and your fella?” She asks with her usual charm.

“Coffee for now, thank you.” I nod to her and she gives me a wink, looking Price over curiously before she walks away.

Price rests an elbow on the table and turns towards me slightly. “Come here often?”

I relax back into my seat with a quiet sigh, looking over the little diner and the people milling around it. “This is the place I come to after a hard mission. When I need to remind myself of the good things, when I need to remember what it’s like to not be a soldier.” A soft smile pulls at my lips at the sight of a small family across the diner; two parents trying to feed their toddler and laughing as he smears the food over his face.

“I understand.” John says quietly beside me and I feel his arm slide on top of the booth behind me, letting me settle a bit more into his side. “The park is that place for me. I’ve spent hours sitting on a bench watching people pass by, getting used to the sights and smells of civilian life. Sometimes it takes a few days to decompress.”

My shoulders lax as I shift closer and rest my hand on his knee. “After the worst of it, I spent a week here. I only went home to sleep and even then, only a few hours before I was back here. All I could do was try to be around people and try to remember what life was supposed to be.” I sigh, shifting a bit in place before I feel John’s gentle touch on my arm, his fingers lightly skimming up and down. My head rests back against his shoulder while my thumb draws little circles on his knee. “That’s when the people here really got to know me. Like Dana. Her kindness and tendency to gossip kept me sane.”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip, sugar.” John teases and I smile, turning my head to look at him.

“Hm, I’m not a perpetrator, but I’ll listen.” He chuckles and I love being able to feel the rumble in his chest.

“Thank you for sharing with me.” He says a touch quieter and my hand reaches up to lightly scratch his beard.

“Gladly.” I bathe in his steady attention and the only thing that drags us away is the clink of cups and plates on the table. We both look over as Dana sets our requested coffees in front of us along with three plates of food.

“Coffee, your usual, something for your man, and some extra protein for the both of you. Fill up.” She looks at me pointedly and I give her an easy smile.

“Thank you, Dana.” I say with humor tainting my every word before I gesture to John. “This is John Price.” He offers his hand to her immediately and she takes it, holding on tight with her penetrating gaze trained on him.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” John says sweetly and Dana raises a brow, then smiles before pulling back and putting a hand on her hip.

“About time you brought a man around, sweetie. And he seems like a good one.” She nods to me while my head ducks, my cheeks hot as she walks away.

Price taps lightly on my arm. “I like her.” He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Mm, well, the feeling is clearly mutual.” My head shakes, but I can’t help but smiling in return as he chuckles. “Hope you don’t mind her just bringing food. It’s happened every time I’ve come here.” Our eyes meet again and the only thing I find in his is amusement and affection.

“Don’t mind a bit. Glad you’ve had someone looking out for you before.” He keeps an arm around me as he looks over the piles of food Dana gave us and I watch him for a moment, taking in the insinuation that he and the boys are here to look after me now.

I lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good. Now, Dana will expect us to eat all of this, so I hope you’re prepared.” I slide silverware toward him and look away from his fond expression before I melt in my seat.

* * *

It feels stupid that I’m fucking nervous.

I’ve hung around the boys like this before, watched the game and laughed as they argued, but never in someone’s home. And this is the first time we’re all together after the dynamic with Price has changed. I just hope I haven’t…messed anything up somehow.

That’s why I’m standing in front of his door after knocking, my knuckles white from how tightly I’m clinging to the bag over my shoulder. Muffled voices come through the door before it swings open to reveal a grinning Gaz. “Don’t have to knock on days like this, G. Get in here.” He pulls me in and divests me of my bag, setting it on the counter before turning back to me with a grin. My nerves vanish.

“Why are you the one dragging people in when you don’t even live here?” I ask with a small laugh, leaning into him to give him a brief hug. He seems surprised, but quickly embraces me in return.

“Don’t trust Price to step away from the kitchen to answer the door. Barely trust him in the kitchen at all.” He mutters as he leans into me conspiratorially while we glance to John stirring a large pot on the stove.

“But you certainly fucking eat my food.” He returns, glancing over at us while I try to hide my soft smile. He’s in jeans and a navy Henley with the sleeves rolled up. He looks very domestic like this and it suits him. “Welcome, G.”

“Captain.” I greet him before breaking eye contact as I pull my dip from the bag. Gaz instantly peeks over my shoulder and I swat his hand off the bowl. “Dessert is for after you all have stuffed your faces with everything else. Besides, it needs to chill.” He pouts and reaches for it again before I rebuff him with a bump to his hip.

“Come on, G. Let me try it.”

“No.” I slide it into Price’s fridge and shoo Gaz back with a smirk, pressing my back against the doors to keep him from going after it. “Whatever happened to complaining I was bringing a dessert dip in the first place, huh?”

Gaz huffs. “I said I’d try it after that.”

“And I’ll let you. When we’re halfway through the game.” I give him a pointed look so he knows I mean it and the corner of my mouth twitches when I hear Price chuckle. There’s a knock at the door and my head tilts for Gaz to go get it. His eyes roll and he walks away with slumped shoulders. My head shakes as I slide over to Price and he immediately stretches out an arm to make space for me to fold myself into him.

“I like this.” I tug slightly on his shirt, my hand resting on his sternum as I peek into the pot he’s stirring. Chili, by the looks of it. “Looks good on you.”

He stoops and quickly presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Yeah? Well, I like this.” He holds me a little tighter and I let myself grin up at him. “Gonna be hard not reaching for you today.”

“Want to just send the boys home and snuggle on the couch?” I tease, pulling away as I hear the others coming in.

Price chuckles and sighs as I move out of reach. “Don’t tempt me.” He keeps his voice low and I smirk as I pull out the other things I brought while Gaz leads the others inside. It’s easy having everyone together again and I’m glad there’s no strain despite being out of work and having no goal. The new goal is to relax and have fun and we actually do.

I try settle in the chair off to the side while the boys take the couch, but this immediately starts an argument. “G, sit here. Want you to try my dip.” Gaz beckons while Soap frowns.

“Not gonna want yours when she tries mine.” He flick’s Gaz’s ear before Gaz elbows him in the stomach.

“It’s not going to matter if you both get into a brawl and knock the table over.” Simon scolds and tugs both men back by their belts to sit on the couch, sighing heavily as they continue jabbing at each other with grins on their faces. I shake my head and walk back into the kitchen as John spoons chili into bowls.

“The kids are rowdy today.” I comment and grin when he chuckles.

“And this is when they’re on their best behavior.” He returns in the same low tone while I watch him add different toppings to each bowl. Seems like he already knows what each person likes.

I raise a brow. “This is good behavior?”

Price nods with a secret smile. “This effort is for you. Usually they come in with prepackaged everything and one person makes something homemade. This time, they all insisted on making something.” Surprise flits through me as I look over at the boys, softening at the thought that they went through the trouble of making things for me.

“Does that include you?” I peek up at him and try to hide my smirk as he swallows and shrugs a shoulder.

“A little.” He admits and I sway into him while the boys are distracted by getting the tv to the right channel.

“I appreciate that.” It’s actually fucking adorable, but I don’t think those words would be as appreciated. John simply slides a bowl of chili towards me and watches all the little things I add to it, his gaze turning all soft and sweet in the way that makes me melt.

“You may not appreciate it so much when they’re all pushing food on you.” He nudges another bowl towards me. “That’s Simon’s. Good luck.” He winks at me before heading over and I follow with a shake of my head.

I instantly have their attention as I walk over and hand Simon his bowl. “Tell us where you’d like to sit and we’ll move.” He says while Price retreats to the lone chair off to the side with a barely hidden smirk on his face.

“I’ll just sit on the floor—” I blink as each man immediately objects, but Johnny is the one who gets up and gently tugs on my arm to sit me down in his place.

“My mam would have my fuckin’ ears if I let a lady sit on the floor.” He mutters, sitting in the floor beside the arm of the couch while I fold my legs under me to give him space.

“I’ve literally slept in the dirt along with all of you. Sitting on the floor isn’t a big deal.” I remind them, amused and a bit confused at their reactions.

Gaz clicks his tongue. “Not the same. You’re not in uniform.”

“Oh, so I’m a lady when I’m not in uniform?” I tease, happily stirring my chili and holding the warm bowl close in my lap.

Simon reaches over and flicks my ear. “Clearly not.” I show him my middle finger and he smirks. “Just let us try and treat you nice every once and a while, alright? It’s good for us.”

I relax into the couch and relent, nodding. “Nice to see you all can act like gentlemen once and a while anyway.” That’s answered with scoffs and I look at Price who still has that little smirk on his face. Though it’s a little softer than before. The dip argument is eventually settled when I let them make me a plate and they pile it high. All are actually good, though apparently Simon underestimated the amount of spice he added and none of the men can handle it. Which makes it all the more hilarious when I eat a quarter of the bowl while Soap tries to keep up and ends up almost crying.

Honestly, watching them is more fun than watching the game. They groan in unison when there’s a bad play, they shout when the ref makes a bad call, and I can’t help but cheer along with them when their team makes a goal. Gaz eagerly reminds me of my dessert the second halftime hits and I retrieve it, putting it in the middle of the table. It’s basically chocolate whipped cream and I serve it with graham crackers and strawberries. I make Price a small plate and hand it to him in his chair while I wait beside him for the others to try it.

Gaz makes sure he’s first and he dips a strawberry, then shoves the whole thing into his mouth. His eyes go wide and my hand squeezes Price’s shoulder. “Holy shit, that’s good.” My hand laxes even as I swat Price for his silent laugh.

“You’re a good cook. You had nothing to worry about.” He assures me and risks sliding his hand over mine while the others are distracted. Soap and Ghost try it out and they have the same reaction. Half the bowl is gone before I know it, although I have to threaten to take it away when Gaz tries to hog it. I’m too pleased to even tease them about liking it so much.

By the end of the game, Simon is the one who has claimed the bowl and is idly licking the bottom while Soap tries fruitlessly to shove him off the couch. Everyone eventually filters out after helping clean up and I smile when John immediately reaches for me the second that we’re alone. “That was fun.” I murmur against his shoulder as he pulls me down onto the couch next to him and tucks me against his side.

“Mm. Glad we didn’t exhaust you.” He says sounding pretty tired himself.

I smirk and heave a contented breath. “Didn’t say that.” He smiles and I feel the warmth of his hand as he slides it up and down my back.

“You need to leave?” He peeks down at me and I shake my head.

“I can stay a little while longer. If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll happily keep you, sugar.” His other hand slides over my knee to rest in the crease above my calf and I risk letting my legs stretch out a bit. Price makes a deep sound in his chest and pulls me closer so my legs are draped over his lap. His eyes shut as he rests his head back on the couch and I watch him with a little smile before my eyes slowly shut as well. We fall asleep like that and I can’t help thinking that if more of my days are like this one, and like they have been with this team, I think my life would be a happy one. Finally.

Taglist (thank you all for reading and wanting to be tagged, I'll keep tagging you in new stuff with Price and G unless you say otherwise!)

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova

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killedpink · 1 year

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[04:21]

every day i wake up with han jisung in my mind

🏷contains: dom/switch jisung x sub/switch reader, morning sex(ish), dry humping, oral sex, body worship, praise, spit kink, pet names, cum consumption, slight masturbation, hair pulling, jisung is lowkey a tease, and this setting is stupidly domestic

waking up next to jisung always felt surreal to you. it was one of the highlights of your day — to watch the slow rise and fall of the blankets that covered his chest, his face vacant of any expression and instead just so poetically peaceful. however, it didn’t always go like that.

your eyelids slowly, tiresomely opened, the curtains of your shared bedroom obscuring the blinding sunlight, yet a few sunbeams caught the room and landed like a flick of paint onto the walls. you only had a few moments of peace, turning on your other side to face jisung was a mistake. his bottom lip was kept between his teeth, his eyes shut tight, and his hands fisting his painfully hard bulge in his boxers, rocking his hips against anything he could find. his tiny, needy whimpers didn't get past his throat much, probably assuming you were still asleep and didn't want to wake you. too late.

a third hand joined jisung's assault on his ever growing erection, his eyes shooting open like a deer in headlights once he realised you were awake and eager to help him in his dilemma. his ministrations halted, "did i wake you? i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to—" you shut his ramblings up with a quick, demanding, open mouthed kiss to his lips, feeling jisung groaning into your mouth. "you didn't wake me, ji. let me take care of you, okay?" your fingers brushed the wisps of hair away from his sticky forehead, shining with the start of sweat brimming on his skin. he paused, weighing up his options, before coyly nodding, his eyes never leaving yours.

you shuffled closer to him, your skin brushing against his from the proximity, taking his clothed cock in your hand, rolling the flat of your palm against his growing wet spot, enjoying the fuzzy look on jisung's face. your lips parted to let your spit fall onto his bulge, taking your index finger and smearing it into the cloth below. jisung's hands latched onto your waist, grabbing onto you for dear life as his head fell back onto the pillows in bliss, his lips parting slightly and his brows knitting together in concentration. it didn’t tak long before he relaxed into your touch, his hips rising up to meet your hand, still focused on coaxing an orgasm from his core. you added your other hand, sitting up cross-legged to help you focus more. one hand crept higher up at the waistband of jisung's boxers, rubbing his sopping cock head, while the other massaged the base of his shaft, occasionally brushing against his heavy balls that quickly became full with his cum, waiting for the chance to spill out, which always, always, earned a groan out of him.

"please don't stop, i'm so close— fuck!" jisung whined, filling his tight, constricting boxers with what seemed like a good few mouthfuls of cum, generously sticking between his skin and the — now soaked — cloth material. you hummed encouragingly, continuing to touch him softly, causing his sensitive cock trembled with each stroke after his release, eliciting adorably content groans from his pink, glossy lips. jisung's hand caught your wrist, "you did so well for me, angel. but now it's your turn." he smiled, caressing your face affectionately, leaving a warm kiss to your temple. you shook your head, "you don't have to, i'm okay, really." jisung cocked an eyebrow at you, "what made you think that was a suggestion?" your eyes widened in realisation. "are.. are you sure?" you were quieter, meeker, almost. he chuckled dryly, "aren't i always? stay there." he motioned to where you were, not even giving you the authority to argue it anymore.

within the blink of an eye, he was ripping the blankets from you, forcing your knees apart and settling ever so comfortably between your legs. you squirmed, excitement getting the better of you. jisung's hands wrapped around both of your legs, trailing open mouthed kisses and the occasional nibble onto your skin all over your inner thighs. oral was always one of his favourites, and he excelled at it like no-one you've ever heard of, let alone been with. you quickly relaxed into jisung's touch, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to you eagerly. "yeah, just like that, angel. just relax, yeah? i've got you," he mumbled into your skin, in between his feverishly arousing kisses. you nodded compliantly, hooking your legs around him in an attempt to bring him closer, feeling yourself get noticeably wetter the longer jisung ignored your sex and opted to worship the inches of skin around it.

hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your damp thighs eagerly, but never forgetting to plant kisses onto your body, pouring out his love for you from his mouth onto your very being. jisung hummed pleasantly at the sight of your wet cunt, shiny and sticky with arousal. "you're already so wet for me," he noted, sparing a kiss to the side of your thigh, "fuck, you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." he inched closer to you, the tip of his nose a hair's breadth away from bumping into your swelling clit, and he slowly pressed a kiss into the middle of your slit, his colder lips colliding with your aroused, burning heat. you squealed, your hands instantaneously finding purchase in jisung's dark hair, tugging on the strands as if you could suddenly control his actions through it. he chuckled into your cunt, butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach as you felt his grin against you. "i've got you, don't worry, angel."

you felt his hard biceps against your thighs, effectively caging you between him. his eyes never left your slit, entirely observing how you reacted to his advances as if he hasn't been in the exact same situation for what felt like a thousand times. jisung was always eager. he was eager to learn, and be pleased, and most of all he was eager to please. who were you to deny him of that? he buried his head into your cunt, properly investing in making you orgasm now that he's had his fun. his hands absentmindedly stroked your skin, hiking up your thighs and sliding around the curve of your waist and the valley between your tits. you shuddered as you felt his lips pucker around your swollen clit, dousing it in his heavy drool and letting any excess sink further down your slit and pool around your entrance. your hole unconsciously contracted around thin air, desperate to be stuffed full of jisung's hard — and now sticky — cock. he must have felt it clench, as he used his index and middle fingers to spread your cunt apart until he was starting to stretch open your entrance, and deposited his spit into your waiting hole, mixing with your heavy slick to create a murky, white tinted concoction of your shared fluids.

a long, dragged out relaxed moan escaped your throat and past your lips, your eyes closing as you fully submitted to han jisung and his disgustingly intoxicating touch. he groaned into your cunt, "you make the prettiest sounds, baby. love it when you're loud like this," he cooed, pressing his lips into your dripping sex once more, making your skin flush, your body yearn for iim and your mind fall blank. jisung's high-bridged, perfectly kissable nose pokes and prods your folds as he continues to mark every inch of your sex with his spit, his tongue being his paintbrush, dipping and sliding against your swollen clit. though he utilities his tongue the most, his glossy pink lips are brutal; paired deadly, perfectly to elicit the most lewd noises from you. the flat of his tongue lapped up your arousal, greedily sucking every last drop that your body could give. the tip of his adorable nose nudged against your throbbing clit every time you writhed against his built frame. it never faltered to make your legs tense wildly, giving jisung the cruel idea to shove his wet, blazingly hot tongue into every inch of your sex you could offer.

you exhaled shakily, accompanied by the many praises and whimpers that left your lips. jisung hummed smugly between your thighs, the hungrily carnal glint in his onyx eyes never faded. he was captivated by your reactions, aiming to draw out every single noise your delectable body could make. the sound of your wetness rolled off the walls, juices squelching filthily between you and him. he could feel your legs trembling against either side of his body, grinning triumphantly at your reactions. his cheeks were slightly flushed, his chest rising and falling hastily as he clearly neglected his need for oxygen between your legs. the texture of his veiny, calloused and calculated hands felt so perfectly good against your colder skin, as he all but pulled you barbarically closer to him. lust sizzled in your gut, so powerfully mind bending that you can't help but roll your hips deviously onto jisung's talented mouth, no matter how embarrassing it might be when you're back into the right frame of mind and he decides he's in a teasing mood.

jisung started grinding his hips against the bed, desperate to have his own (second) orgasm, your moans ticking every box in turning him on, urging him to helplessly fuck into the sheets below him, his boxers acting as a cruel barrier between him, further depraving him of sensation. jisung chuckles fondly when your back arches in desperation, how you cry out his name beautifully from your parted lips, how your fingers tug and swirl around his dark, sombre hair in a frenzy, clinging onto him as if you were being forced apart, clinging onto him as if the room was spinning and he was you anchor. as you've never hesitated from clinging to him like he's your lifeline. how jisung's perfectly carved jaw isn't tired, you don't know. his plump lips kiss your folds, suckling every area you have to offer. he latches onto your clit, pressing into every part of your slicked arousal, never ceasing his attack.

your thighs burn, your skin is coated in an excited sheen of sweat. your socked heels scatter around jisung's toned back, easily sliding up and down his bare skin. one of your hands fall to his bicep, your fingers desperately digging into the bronzed, tanned skin of his muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. your hips rocked into jisung's searing hot mouth, rutting into as much of him as possible as your high quickly approached, your body working on pure instinct as you chased the electrifying touch of han jisung. your body shuddered in bliss, arching into his touch as you let out a desirous cry. he watched you, "such a good girl for me, that's it, let me hear you, baby," he encouraged you, beaming with pride as you collapsed into the bed, frantically trying to come back down to earth. jisung, meanwhile, happily laps up your come, attentively licking up whatever spilled out from you, effectively cleaning you. he — reluctantly — and eventually parted ways from your cunt, and he pants, catching his breath. his head tipped high into the air, neck on full display. with every gulp of however much of your cum was left over in his mouth made his throat tighten; his heart-shaped adam's apple dipping further down periodically as he swallowed.

once he caught his breath and his mouth was empty, he laid beside you and tenderly stroked the back of your head, smoothing out any knots or frizz that you might have accumulated from writhing around on the pillows. "you did so well for me, my love," he kissed your hair, "just relax, okay?" he soothed you, once he realised your heartbeat wasn't entirely back to normal and your breathing was erratic. you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and nodding.

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vvolfstare · 2 years

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anywhere else is hollow | stucky (cont. from this thread)

@vvhite-vvolf

tw: discussion of canon-typical triggers, some kisses and thots, but mostly cuddles and blanket fort fluff

The soft kisses made him hum happily and be glad that Steve loved these moments as much as he did. He would never be able to get enough of him, his touches and kisses. He almost wanted to pout when he pulled away, even though breakfast was waiting for them. Steve made it almost impossible not to give in to him at every turn, and he liked it that way.

Seeing that smile on his face and knowing he was responsible for putting it there always filled his chest with warmth and love. This was what it felt like to be so totally loved that everything else paled in comparison. When he was shifted, he settled comfortably between his legs and scooted down so his head rested on his chest. Being cuddled through a meal was a favorite thing for him, he could admit. Settling his plate, he ate with one hand, the other running an idle path along his thigh purely for the contact of it.

Steve could probably spend the rest of his life tucked into Bucky's pocket if that were socially acceptable. They already pushed the limits of codependency by living and working together, but after a century of longing, he wasn't going to apologize for it. His purpose now was to make sure his husband was as happy as possible, and they were happiest when they were together. Nobody else got an opinion on it.

He curled his free arm around his waist, pressing soft kisses into his hair. When it was just them, he liked cuddling through mealtimes too. It was relaxing and cozy, and the blanket fort just reinforced the impression. It felt like being tucked away into their own soft, fluffy world. While Steve's progress with cooking was halting, Bucky had started out good and only gotten better, and he gave a happy hum at the first bite.

These days, Bucky didn't really give a shit about what was socially acceptable and what wasn't when it came to his marriage. They'd spent the better part of a hundred years being forced apart in one way or another. Social convention could, quite bluntly, go fuck itself. Making Steve happy was the most important thing he did every day, and he knew that Steve thought the same thing when it came to him. What they had worked well for them, helped heal lifetimes of traumas, and just made them happy (disgustingly so).

Those soft kisses pulled a happy sound from him, his hand sliding up behind him to brush over the back of Steve's hair affectionately. He had hoped that Steve would like the blanket fort for that very reason: it was their own, all around soft little world that no one else could mess with. Hearing the happiness from him at the food made that warmth blossom in his chest again, satisfaction at taking care of Steve flaring. "There's even a snack stash in here," he admitted with a chuckle.

Disgustingly happy sounded like just the thing for them these days, and the rest of their lives if they could manage it. Coming off a lifetime of having to hide their feelings, Steve was pretty adamant about not putting either of them in that situation ever again. It made him happier than he could say to live in a world where he could hold hands with his husband in line for coffee or kiss him goodbye at work.

Steve liked everything that Bucky did. Literally, the man could do no wrong. He knew it was less about Bucky being perfect and more about Steve being sick in love with him. He knew he wasn't perfect; it was just that none of the flaws bothered him. Making a fort out of their living room was just flat-out adorable. "Of course there is," he chuckled softly, his gaze shifting around in a more assessing way to see if he could find it.

Bucky knew that they were both stupidly in love with one another. It didn't create blinders, not really. They both knew each other's faults and quirks as much as they knew each other's strengths. But after lifetimes of being kept apart, they didn't matter more than being able to finally be together and revel in it. If it made them happy, there'd really never be a protest, potentially not even questions if it really wasn't a bother.

He laughed softly when he could feel him looking around more seriously. "If you can find it, you get first snack and movie pick," he told him, a thread of mischief making its way into the soft happiness. Little things like this, soft and silly moments, were worth everything to him these days.

He hummed thoughtfully, always one to enjoy a challenge, even a small, silly one. "High stakes. I'll have to think about it. But I think the real prize is already in my arms," he murmured playfully, nuzzling gently at his neck. He put most of his attention on finishing up breakfast, but he was still assessing the options.

When they'd pushed aside their plates, he leaned back a little, tapping one of the throw pillows on the couch behind them. If memory served, they weren't exactly where they'd been this morning. He couldn't really turn off the tactical brain, even if the most difficult things it had to do lately were repair engines and locate snacks.

"The highest," he teased and tried not to turn to absolute mush (failed, but tried). He couldn't let himself vocalize it, or breakfast would never get finished and he knew it because it would be entirely his fault. It took far more focus than it should have to finish his food, honestly, but he didn't think a soul alive would blame him.

Laughing when he tapped the pillows, he reached over to move it again. A basket of snacks was tucked under it and partially into the cushions. It was the silliest use of training and skills ever, but he liked that about it. He turned to straddle his lap with a soft laugh, kissing him softly.

Steve wasn't fooled for a moment, with or without the commentary. They knew each other too well for that. He brushed a soft kiss against his neck and put his attention on finishing his breakfast before one or both of them got seriously off track. He wasn't even trying to derail him that time, and he sort of loved the way it happened when they were just being themselves.

There were few things he loved more than Bucky's laughter, bright and carefree like that. He knew his smile was the dopey lovesick one when he turned in his lap. He slid a hand over his thigh to tuck him in close, the other wrapping in a loose strand if his hair. "Thank you for breakfast, baby. It was perfect," he murmured, tipping his head into those soft kisses.

The look on his face when he settled properly over his lap made him glad he'd made that choice. It never failed to make him ridiculously happy to see that particular smile on his husband's face. Feeling his hand sliding along his thigh made him hum softly, the muscles bunching in response before he relaxed against him entirely. "You're welcome."

Running his hands over his chest, he slid them through his beard and into his hair. He was sorely tempted to distraction from the original plan, not that there was much of one, or that Steve was a distraction. Really, he was always his main focus and everything else was a temporary distraction from him. "You should pick your movie," he murmured against his lips, brushing over them softly one more time before forcing himself to sit back.

A soft shiver ran through him at the feeling of muscles bunching under his hand, and he squeezed gently. Bucky's body would never not take his breath away. He was all broad lines and corded muscle and frankly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. As impossible as it seemed, he was even more beautiful on the inside. It was a devastating combination.

His arms wrapped around him when he relaxed against him, face snuggling into his hair. He was down for whatever Bucky had planned for the day, but the odds they'd keep their clothes on for all of it were practically nothing. He needed this too though, the softness and the cuddling and Bucky's body warm against his.

He tightened the arm around his waist so he wouldn't go far and reached for the remote with his other hand. He settled on an old black and white sci-fi one that they both liked, not in the mood for anything new to them or noisy when they were already so cozy. Wrapping that arm back around him, he tugged him gently back against him. He didn't care what they watched, as long as there was more of this.

Bucky wasn't sure he'd ever stop being amazed by the way Steve looked at him. He was the most beautiful person in his world, always had been. He'd been in love with him long before the serum had changed the body to match the heart. Being able to curl up against him, to be held and know he was safe, loved, and protected was the best thing.

He liked being cuddled, a supersoldier blanket and teddy bear all in one. Their hands would eventually wander, that love needing a different outlet eventually, but for now this was perfect. They needed this in equal measure, the softness that they had managed to build into their lives.

He never would have shifted far, too happy right where he was and knowing he was more than welcome to stay. The choice of movie made him smile softly as he tucked his head against his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around him, his hands slid just under the back of his shirt to press against warm skin as their legs tangled together. He could stay exactly like that for hours and be completely happy.

Steve had always been looking at him that way. It was just that he was allowed to wear it out in the open now. He looked at Bucky like he was the center of the world, and he was. Steve's world. He never wanted cause to hide that again. He knew Bucky of all people didn't care about the aesthetics. Now that he knew what that expression meant, he knew Buck had always looked at him the same way, before or after the serum. The way he treated him had never changed.

He knew exactly how much Bucky loved cuddles and hair pets and all that soft affection, and Steve needed him close just as much. It was a constant physical reminder that they were both safe and happy and cared for. He smiled as Bucky sank against him, their legs twining together. He pressed soft kisses to his hair, fingers running a slow path through it.

There was never going to be anything better or more important in his world than Steve. They never had to hide the way they felt again and that was a gift all their own. Even if they were no longer in Sallow Hills, it wouldn't matter. He was glad that Steve knew he'd always looked at him the same way, that he'd always just stayed Steve to him and always would.

He remembered the days and months and years of skittishness, of that inability to touch or be touched. Being able to do this now felt like nothing short of a miracle. He was still careful with touching other people, but with his chosen family, he was much more free. A soft, content hum escaped him and he cuddled down into him.

Sallow Hills happened to be the place where they made their confessions. Steve would always be grateful for that, and for the family, and for giving them a space where they could just be Steve and Bucky. It wasn't the reason they were together. Whatever happened next, they took this with them. He was never going back on it. That was one of the benefits of being married. He got to keep Bucky forever, whether they ended up back in their own world or not.

He'd noticed the way Bucky kept his distance from most people, and it had never bothered him. He'd more than earned the right to be nervous, and Steve wasn't that big on physical contact with others himself. He was just glad he felt safe enough with him to do this, to let himself be held and cared for. The relaxed lines of his body and the soft, content hum told him all he needed to know. "Love of my life," he murmured into his hair, keeping up the soft pets.

Times like these were among his favorite, where everything was soft and quiet and there was no world beyond the two of them. It had always been easy for them to make a bubble of a world all their own, even before they admitted they loved each other. Nights on Brooklyn fire escapes, early mornings in Army camps, all of their little projects on the house. Each one a bubble, a happy memory.

Bucky trusted Steve with everything, every part of who he was. He would protect every bit of softness and keep it only for his family, and he knew that it was okay for him to do it. Slowly, he tipped his head to brush his lips along his jaw. "Love of mine," he said softly against his skin, shifting up a little higher on him.

Bucky had almost literally created their own quiet bubble-world for them with the blanket fort. He liked it more the longer they stayed there, tucked away with soft blankets and soft lighting and his favorite person. Steve wasn't sure he could be persuaded to leave today, and tomorrow wasn't looking good either. He wanted to stay hidden away with him for a little while longer.

Even though he trusted that Bucky loved him by now, his breath still hitched softly at the words. He would never understand how it could be true that the person he loved most loved him like that. His fingers ran gently through his hair, his arm re-tightening around him as he shifted higher. "How'd I get so lucky?" he murmured, lips brushing against his hair.

There was nothing saying they had to get rid of their little bubble-world any time soon if they didn't want to. There was something to be said for the soft silence of it, literally wrapped in all things comforting and soft for them to escape in. If they decided not to fully budge from it for a few days, they could do that. Bucky would always be happier hidden away with Steve where nothing in the world could touch them that they didn't explicitly invite.

As much as he loved knowing that he was responsible for making Steve's breath hitch, he hated that he still occasionally struggled with how it could be true. Bucky had loved Steve for most of his life and couldn't imagine it any other way. "You got your ass kicked in an alley in the 1920s, baby," he teased quietly, "The rest is, quite literally, history."

It was a new thing for both of them, having the freedom to just decide how they spent their days. Work at the garage was adequate to keep them comfortable without taking over their lives, and aside from a handful of friends and family, they had no other commitments in town. They might technically be trapped here, but it was more freedom than they'd had in a long time.

It was still hard for him to imagine Bucky loving him back for all that time. Hell, he'd have trouble imaging it now if he wasn't right there reminding him day after day. He laughed softly, sliding a hand against the warm skin of his back beneath his shirt. "Good thing you've got a bit of a hero complex," he teased back, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw. Bucky had always been the hero of his stories.

Most of the time, Bucky didn't even feel like they were trapped here. They had a wonderful life and everything they'd ever really wanted right in Sallow Hills: a life with each other. Bucky knew that Steve missed a few people, especially Sam and Natasha, and having them here would be about the only thing that he would change. Getting to just live was something special, he thought.

He would have to be dead twice over to not love Steve. All of the best parts of life were with him. His breath hitched lightly at that soft brush of his hand, always affected by him even in their softest moments. "Someone had to back you up, baby," he murmured softly, tipping his head into that kiss with a soft, fond smile.

Steve knew he could happily settle down with Bucky in Sallow Hills for the rest of their lives. He wasn't going to waste any more time with him regretting what they couldn't have. It was easier knowing he'd already walked away from life as he knew it before he'd ever set foot in Sallow Hills. Either way, Captain America was over, and he had to figure out what was next. He'd never imagined it would be this sweet.

His hand drifted slow and soothing, and he kept the soft kisses against his skin. likewise. He was enjoying their relaxed little bubble too much to try to wind him up right now, although knowing them, it would happen eventually. "I don't remember anyone else volunteering for the job," he murmured, not the least bit sorry about it. It had been the two of them against the world for so long.

Bucky liked the idea of a life where they didn't have to be Captain America or the Winter Soldier. No one cared about those heroes here, no one needed them here. They could just be the Rogers, and figure out exactly what that came with. So far, he liked the picture they were building together and couldn't wait to see how it grew.

Relaxing under those soft touches and kisses, he simply sank against him. He never minded when the tone changed and the heat took over, but there was joy and love in the softness too that they both appreciated. "I think you'd'a punched anyone else that tried, punk," he murmured playfully. He'd never change it for the world, loving how it had been the two of them.

Steve never thought he'd be so glad not to be needed by anyone but his family. All he'd wanted when the war started was to be useful, to help the way everyone else was helping. He'd never imagined that even once the war ended, he wouldn't leave it. He'd never meant to stay in it forever. Apparently, it took getting trapped in a small, weird town to force him to retire.

Bucky feeling comfortable enough to just melt against him was one of his favorite things. His fingers traced a slow, soothing path along his spine. "You saying I was sweet on you even back then?" His tone was teasing, but it was the goddamn truth, and Bucky probably knew it. Steve could barely remember a time he hadn't been in love with his best friend.

Bucky knew that Steve had never been good at being idle, at being adrift. The fight had given him something of a purpose, he supposed, but it took other parts away. If a small, weird town was what it took, he would always be grateful to it.

Slow heat trailed with his fingers, but nothing that was insistent on being chased, just enough to drift on. "I'm saying you never let people help you back then," he pointed out with a little teasing laughter in his voice. "Were you sweet on me back then?" The question was sweetly curious as he tipped his head to look at him properly.

There were all kinds of ways to find purpose, and Steve understood that better now. He'd done the important things, fought the fights he could fight, saved the lives he could save, and now he was focused on his and Bucky's lives. Making a home together, building their relationships with the kids, and making his husband happy were purpose enough for him. He was even learning to enjoy the idleness when it looked like this.

He chuckled softly, unable to deny the point. He struggled with letting people help him now, and he'd been even worse back then. "No question, baby," he murmured, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, his gaze filled with a century of love. "I don't really remember a time I didn't love you. You were the hero in my stories from the day we met." It wasn't hard to see why, Bucky pulling his ass out of the fire from day one and brightening each one after that. All of Steve's best memories were with him.

Steve was slowly getting better at letting people help him. It got better as their relationships with other people did, and his favorite to watch was the kids. They were building a life that allowed for that, for the softness that they had never been allowed before. He liked their idle times more and more, especially as they came in the form of times like this.

The look on his face made his heart stutter and his breath catch. It didn't matter how often he looked at him that way, he didn't think it would ever stop affecting him that way. His fingers slid to wrap gently around his wrist, turning his face to press a kiss to his palm. "I love you, Steve. Always have." He had never thought of himself as a hero, but he knew he'd always protect Steve. It was one thing that had never and would never change.

Steve had always wanted to look at him like that. Being able to let everything he felt for Bucky show on his face, and knowing that he saw it and understood, was just one more perfect piece of their life together now. He'd hidden it for so long, and having no secrets between them now was like being able to breathe easily for the first time in his life.

"Always have," he agreed softly, running his fingers through the soft strands of his hair. He knew Bucky didn't agree, and that was fine. There were still things they were working through, and there probably always would be. Trauma was persistent like that. There were so many more good days than bad ones though, and the bad ones were fewer all the time.

"Ever think we'd be married with kids within a year?" he chuckled, thinking back to Bucky first arriving in Sallow Hills. It seemed like forever and like yesterday. Steve had never once imagined his life being this good. Rey wanting to take their name had hit him hard. He'd already thought of her as a daughter, but seeing it on paper, hearing her introduce herself that way, it felt even more real. His heart could hardly take it.

For the first time, it felt like he was exactly who he was supposed to be. Sure, trauma and history had shaped him, but in their life together, it didn't have a place and it didn't define him. They were finding the best versions of themselves and doing it together. There was very little that could be better than that.

A soft, happy sound escaped him and he tipped his head further into his hand. Working through their traumas together was always going to be worth their life they were building. Healing wasn't linear, and often it was murky and hard, and he knew that it was never-ending. They'd been through too much to believe otherwise.

Soft laughter escaped him and he shook his head, "Never. And especially not adult kids." Though kid kids were more terrifying to consider, he would admit. The idea was nice, in theory, but there was still a lot more healing needed for that. "I love our kids," he admitted. Having seen Rey's name on paper had felt like the best kind of gut punch.

It was the first time he could remember since coming out of the ice that Steve didn't feel the past weighing heavily on his shoulders. They would always have a history, and it made their love that much deeper, but he didn't feel the need to drag it around with him anymore. His thoughts were far more often on the present now, on the life they were building together and the little day to day joys of being with his family.

His hand slid through his hair, always happy to give him all the pets he wanted. "Do you think about having little kids?" It wasn't a thing Steve had thought about in a lot of depth, at least not for himself, but it had crossed his mind from time to time, usually when he was watching Bucky with the Space Kids or feeding the strays. He wasn't an idiot, and he could see that softness growing in him day by day. If Bucky didn't want them now, Steve thought he would eventually.

"Me too," he said, soft and happy. He didn't hesitate over the words my daughter anymore, or trouble himself to explain the found family aspect of it. Rey had chosen them, and they'd chosen her back, and that was all there was to it in his mind. It didn't matter if they hadn't raised her. They were there to fill that role now, for her and Finn both.

He was more than happy to sink into all of the soft affection and the pets that he was offered. The question made him go still, carefully so, but it lacked the edge that came with the need to flee. They had always been good at knowing what the other was thinking, but he'd never expected Steve to actually ask him that particular question. He swallowed lightly and relaxed against him again.

"Sometimes," he admitted quietly, "It felt impossible for the longest time, but..." He trailed off and rolled a single shoulder in a shrug. He'd started letting himself think about what their kids would be like if they brought in someone younger for them all to love and take care of. "You're already a good dad." An amazing one, really, and seeing him that way never failed to make him soft.

He brushed his hand along his side in understanding, a small smile on his face. He loved listening to Steve talk about Rey, telling anyone about her. She was his, full stop, and neither of them felt the need to explain that she wasn't theirs biologically or through raising. Same went for Finn, who was no less theirs than Rey.

It was impossible to miss that sudden stillness, and his hand slid warm and soothing over his back, letting him know that it was safe. Any answer was okay with him, and he wouldn't have asked if he wasn't ready to hear it. That was how Steve felt these days, that everything between them was safe, no topic frightening because he trusted they'd always come together over anything.

"It felt impossible to me too," he murmured, tipping his head to press a kiss to his shoulder. Steve wasn't sure he'd ever thought seriously about being married or having a family. It was just what people did back then, assuming he lived that long. They had room to make those choices now, whatever ones they thought were best for them, and all the time they wanted to think about them.

"I'm alright. You've got the real knack for it," he chuckled softly. Part of his hangup with the Space Kids had been that they were, in fact, fully grown adults. It had taken time for him to realize that didn't really change the nature of the relationship. They'd still chosen him and Bucky as their parents, and that was that. It was highly unlikely he'd have been able to hold back from an actual kid. Steve was nowhere near that hard-hearted, and kids were easy to love.

He knew that he could say anything that was the truth and Steve would be okay with it. They were safe with each other, safer than they had ever been, to match that ridiculous happiness. They'd fight at each others' sides, if they had to fight again, but he couldn't imagine a thing that would make them fight each other.

"Do you want them?" The question was soft, a little unsure, even as he knew it didn't make or break a single thing about their relationship. It wasn't a life either of them had considered in a very long time, if ever. Their lives now allowed for things like that, like the choice of actual children if they wanted them, just like it allowed for them to be married, or have their name taken by adults who loved them like parents.

He laughed quietly and shook his head at him in amusement. "I don't know about that." He had been lucky, finding the ways he could connect with their Space Kids that drew them close. He wouldn't have tried if it hadn't been for Steve.

Steve would always fight for the right cause, but he'd learned there was so much more to life than that. It was a different kind of fighting now, learning to make space for himself and Bucky and their family against the other things that demanded their time and attention. It wasn't that hard in Sallow Hills, where the catastrophes were all relatively small scale, but he worried occasionally about how it would translate in the outside world if they ever left.

His hands stayed soft and reassuring on him. He never wanted to give Bucky a reason to be uncertain of him, and he wouldn't have asked the question if he couldn't stand to answer it himself. "Not right now. I'm selfish, and I want more time with just you. But maybe. Eventually." Even a maybe was a big deal when he thought he'd given up on that kind of life forever. He tipped his head, nibbling gently at the corner of his jaw and kissing over it to soothe the spot. "You make me feel like everything is possible," he murmured.

He didn't spend a whole lot of time thinking about what life would be like if they left Sallow Hills. Bucky was at the point where he didn't want to if he didn't have to, even if they could. He was tired of starting over, and for the first time, his life was built entirely by his choice. It had been his choice to come looking for Steve. He'd told him he loved him, married him, built a family. The world at large and its catastrophes could, quite frankly, go fuck itself.

A soft laugh escaped him and he couldn't help but agree. "Oh no, trust me. Not right now. I like having years of just us." He didn't want to share, not yet, not while everything still had moments it felt impossible and like a dream. He was happy with the future possible maybe because that was a thing for later them.

His breath hitched at the press of teeth and lips, his hands tightening gently where he was holding him. "Baby, we've managed to find each other time and time again for a century. I think it is," he said softly, tipping his head to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

Steve felt guilty occasionally that he didn't think more about his friends outside the barrier, but the truth was that he couldn't do anything about it even if he did. His life was here now, his husband, their family, their friends. He'd like to check in with Sam and Natasha, but given the option, he knew he wouldn't leave unless they were all going together. He'd love to be able to show the Space Kids around New York City someday, but it was just a pleasant fantasy. The reality was here in his arms, and it mattered more than any of that.

"Glad you're not sick of me yet." He smiled, pressing soft kisses into his hair. It made him feel less selfish that Bucky wanted more of just the two of them too--one of the benefits of adopting children who were already adults. They'd been apart for so long, and he wasn't ready to share him that much just yet. "It is," he whispered, tipping his forehead to his, his fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed him softly. "We'll always find each other, Buck. On any planet. In every universe."

He wished there was a way to give them all of it, to keep the life they'd built here while allowing Steve to have access to Sam and Natasha. But he was selfish enough to keep their life that he was content to not even try. Humming softly at the kisses, he snuggled close. "I never could be," he murmured softly. In no world, no universe, could he ever be sick of Steve.

They hadn't had near enough time together to just be them, to build that happy, solid foundation so deep that it was immovable. Their foundation would always be strong and unshakeable, but he wanted this for them after so long of not getting it. He pushed up lightly into that kiss, sinking into it and the love in it. "Always," he promised, because he couldn't imagine letting it be any other way.

Steve loved Sam and Nat. He hoped wherever they were, they were safe and happy, but he also knew they didn't need him for that. If it came down to a choice between his old life or this one, there was no choice. He'd always chosen Bucky over everything. He would never leave him, and he'd never abandon their kids. Really, it was best if everyone just stayed here in weirdo Wales because the alternative was to figure out space travel and search the galaxy for them if they all got scattered again.

"That would have happened a long time ago if it was going to." He pressed a smile into his hair. Why Bucky had decided to put up with him back then and continued to do so for a century, he'd never understand, but he was glad he did. He knew that as long as they lived, he would always want more time with Bucky. The years apart put a sharper edge on it, but it would have been true no matter what. He lingered on those soft, sweet kisses, always happy for an excuse to hold him and kiss him, a seal on the promise they'd made before they ever put words to it.

If anyone could figure out space travel through sheer stubbornness, luck, and a teensy bit of skill, it would be the Rogers men. If they lost their kids to the depths of space, to them being sent back to their home, nothing would stop them. In theory, they had very long lives ahead of them to look as it was.

"Exactly, baby," he agreed with an easy, softly happy smile. There was no one else quite so worth it to him, to stand by through hell and worse. He loved feeling the warmth and love bubbling up in his chest as they kissed, knowing how hard won these moments were. His hands slid along his sides and he nibbled playfully on his bottom lip. "You make me happy."

Steve had never thought much about space travel even after he met people from other planets. Science fiction was much more Bucky's territory. But there were few lengths he wouldn't go to for his family, and he could easily picture traveling galaxies with Bucky to try to find the people they loved. Fortunately, they had some very smart and magical friends who could probably help.

He didn't think he'd ever be able to take a single moment with Bucky for granted. Each one felt like an impossibly lovely gift, even after a year together. He didn't see that ever fading, not after how long they'd waited for each other or how deep those feelings went. He arched gently under those hands, his smile widening bright and happy. "You make me happy. Nice how that works out."

There were still moments where he could hardly believe this was how his life had turned out. A year before, if you had told him he'd marry the person he loved, he'd have laughed and said impossible. He'd been silent a hundred years, he would have done it a hundred more, longer even, just to stay in his orbit.

The sight of that smile was worth everything that happened, so brilliantly happy. It made his heart stutter and his throat tighten to know he made him look that way. "Jesus, Steve, you're beautiful," the whisper was awestruck and dopey with love in reaction.

Steve had never in his life been more grateful that Bucky had a temper to rival his own. If he hadn't snapped that day in the kitchen, they might have gone on being silent and stupid for the rest of their lives, and this? This wasn't something Steve ever wanted to miss. He'd never had anything so good before and knew nothing else would ever compare to it.

That absolutely gobsmacked expression made his chest tight and his heart stutter. He looked the way Steve felt sometimes, like he flat out couldn't believe this could belong to him. His own face softened at the words, and he raised his hands to cup that beloved face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "You are. The best damn thing I've ever seen, always. God, I love you, Buck."

The world at large wouldn't have believed that Bucky's temper could outweigh Steve's once it was set off. Thank God for it. That first kiss, in pure temper and love, echoed in his mind all the time and he wouldn't change it for the world.

His hands tightened gently around his ridiculously small waist as his face tipped into that gentle hold. He swallowed lightly, drowning in love in the best way. "Line's never gonna end," he murmured softly as he tipped his head to kiss him again. "I love you," he murmured before sliding them into an unhurried, deep kiss.

He loved that look on his face, absolutely wrecked with love, and knew it was mirrored in his own expression. "There's no end to our story," he agreed softly, pressing into those sweet kisses. They'd always promised 'til the end of the line, but Steve didn't believe there was an ending anymore. This love had lasted a century. Death couldn't touch it. If there was an afterlife, it would survive there too.

He made a soft sound as he deepened the kiss, hands sliding into his hair. He wanted nothing more than to sink into him and those kisses, the movie and the outside world forgotten, and it was a bright flare of happiness that there was no reason they couldn't, the world finally stepping aside and giving them the time they wanted together.

There was nothing he believed could keep them apart now. Ice and war and magic and everything in between hadn't managed it. Books had all the stories of the greatest loves of all time. He was lucky. He didn't have to read it in a book. He was living in one.

A soft groan escaped him into their kiss when Steve's hands slid into his hair. He was content to forget about everything else. They were allowed to do that now, to just focus on each other and what they wanted. Pulling back just a bit from the kiss, his hands wrapped around his hips and tugged him so they were laying down entirely. "So sweet for me," he murmured softly before kissing him again.

Bucky had always been the love of his life, even when he thought it would never happen. Without meaning to, he held everyone up to his standard. It was no surprise that no one else had ever come close. Steve knew he wasn't a perfect person, no one was, but he was perfect for him. They finally lived in a place where people appreciated Bucky for exactly who he was.

His heart sped at that soft groan, and as always, he wanted to hold him closer when they couldn't get any closer. He huffed a quiet laugh, letting himself be tugged down, and twined their legs together, his hand running soft through his hair. "Pretty sure you're the sweetest Rogers," he murmured, unable to resist chasing his lips for more.

Even now, being as accepted as he was, he knew that the only person he needed to accept and appreciate him was Steve. He showed him that in the way he loved him every single day they had together. It was hard for anyone to ever come close to Steve in his mind when he'd held that spot for a century.

He loved being able to make Steve laugh and smile the way he did. Every one still felt like a victory. He liked the way they automatically wrapped together, always wanting to be close. A soft laugh escaped him and he happily met that chase with another kiss, slower and deeper this time just because he could.

#chat: bucky #vvhite-vvolf #anywhere else is hollow

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beachbabey · 2 years

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Being roommates with Steven Grant because you really think he’s able to afford a London apartment on his own working in a gift shop???

Steven Grant x gn!reader (platonic)

Word count: 908

(Steven Grant is neurodivergent, argue with the wall)

Despite being a vegan, im almost 100% sure all this man eats is chips/fries and desserts

Hates a lot of vegan food, pretty much of it has a weird texture and he just can’t eat it without wanting to open his mouth and let it fall back on his plate

Sweet wrappers all over the coffee table

Pls cook for him, the poor man is missing so many nutrients

Steven’s not great at reacting to emotions sometimes, but he’s trying his best!!

“You alright love?”

“My girlfriend broke up with me”

“Oh……that’s a shame innit?”

“Over the phone”

“Oh bloody hell, a bit rude don't you think??”

Introduces you to every single tea you can think of, loves fruit and herbal teas

Will always make you one when he’s making one himself. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s finding your mug and making you one, it’s just second nature to him

Can't close cupboards,

Simply can't, he tries, he really does!

The amount of times you’ve hit your head on the corners of the doors is well into the thousands at this point

You’ll be in the middle of a phone call in the kitchen whilst steven is making lunch, turn around and then WHAM you’re on your ass

Asks you to lock your door when you sleep, for yours and his sake, he’s so scared that with his ‘sleeping disorder’ he’s gonna somehow harm you

But somehow sleeps worse if he knows you’re not at home

Gets a little anxious if you’re staying over at a friend's place or going somewhere for a few days

He can get so lonely if you’re gone for a while and dives even deeper into reading and disassociates even more than usual

you guys probably spend the holidays together and it's so peaceful and quiet

steven doesn't strike me as someone who's very festive but he'll still stay up for new years with you and crack open a bottle of wine and wish you a happy new year as the fireworks go off

Affectionate but hesitant about it, in the beginning, he’d stay a couple feet away from you if he could help it

You thought he hated you for a long while

Turns out he’s just a little shy and not aware of where your personal space/physical boundaries are and thought it'd be better to be safe than sorry

if you’re a cuddly kind of person he’ll come home from work and slump on you

You’ll be standing in the bathroom and he’ll find you and just throw his arms around you and mush his face into your shoulders

constantly leans on you

his head's resting on your back or the top of your head

he always leans against you when you guys are sitting on the sofa

With the whole “laters gators” thing???

Yeah you both fight to get the last word

It gets like stupidly long

“Laters gators”

“In a while crocodile!”

“Bye-bye, butterfly”

“Gotta go buffalo”

“Toodeloo kangaroo!”

“........Steven get out, you’re gonna be late”

“Yeah alright! Alright! Laters-”

“Steven! Out now!”

Visit him at work and his eyes will brighten up so much, smiles for the first time since leaving the house

“Hiya you! What are you doing here?”

Can’t talk for too long or Donna’s gonna find some sort of punishment for him slacking off

The only reason the flat is clean is because of you

Steven thinks of it as “well nobody ever comes over so why does it need to be spotless?”

Either forgets to do his chores

Or forgets which chores were actually his to do and in a panic, does all of them

You come back home after a crappy day to a completely spotless flat, books stacked neatly on windowsills and on top of Gus’ tank, papers actually underneath his pyramid paperweight, dishes cleaned and put away

He’s so sweet anxious all of the time

Almost crying, choking out a “can i hug you?”

To which he confusedly nods to and holds his arms out to you

Slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you sigh heavily into him before he asks if a cup of tea and a chat would help

reading together on the sofa, your legs across his lap and his forearms on your shins

or vice versa

Watching history documentaries at 2am with his head in your lap and your hands absentmindedly running through his curls, both of your heads drooping but too interested in the show to call it quits, he ends up ranting about his day, asking for your opinions on things until the slow motions of your hand slur his speech until he’s mumbling so much you can’t make out a single word

“Steve? You awake? You gotta get to bed”

“Mhmmm m’gonna, s’no worry love, no worry…..”

If you ever don’t have the money to cover your half of the bills, you don’t even have to ask, Steven will cover you for as long as he can with his shitty minimum wage job and won’t think twice about it

Three words:

Steven

Just Dance

He tries to do the rasputin squat kicks and falls on his ass, then whines if you laugh at him

"yeah yeah, laugh away, you evil little bugger, my poor arse!"

Overall he’s a good guy and although he’s scatterbrained a lot of the time, he’s the sweetest roommate you could ever ask for

#steven grant #moonknight #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #post canon #THIS IS JUST ME PROJECTING ON MARTIN FOR 1500 WORDS LMAO #also to anyone that spots the song lyric: :3 #also also the leopard geckos names are kirk spock and bones #or as jon calls them #captain first officer and CMO

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whumperooni · 4 years

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Dabi having a dumb school girl type who has a crush on him and he takes that opportunity to fuck her virgin pussy in some random stairway. She doesn't quite understand the thought of giving head or anything but he tells her to open her mouth and shoves his pierced cock down her throat. Prob ghosts her for like a week until he wants more of his personal bimbo

YES

Dabi with dumb, sweet little bimbos is my favorite thing. The kind of girl you look at and can tell there’s no lights on upstairs. The kind of girl you look at and you know her brain is nothing but shiny things and elevator music playing in the background.

The kind of girl that is a sucker for mean bad boys that just want to fuck ‘em and dump ‘em.

(ahhh this kind of veered course a bit and got a little long so i cut it short before fuckin’ but please know dabi absolutely ghosted her after. maybe i’ll do a continuation some other day ✌️)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re annoying- you really are. Stupid and dumb and without anything of substance to say. Dabi only puts up with your nonsensical babbling because he likes your little pleated skirts and the innocent, wide eyed way you look up at him whenever he says something scathing. He only puts up with you following him around like a lovestruck puppy because he knows that a dumb little broad like you will be good for warming his cock one day. He idly jerks it at night thinking about your easily flushed cheeks and the way you smile so stupidly when an insult and innuendo goes over your head.

Fuckin’ idiot. Stupid little slut. You’re just nothing but an airhead- nothing more than a pair of tits and an ass for him to leer at whenever he’s bored.

He only really gets interested, though, when you let slip that you’re a virgin- that you’re ripe for the picking. He starts asking you questions- dirty, filthy things that you don’t really comprehend.

“What? You’ve had sex before? Really?”

Nuhuh- you’ve never had sex.

“So you haven’t done anything? Come on, I know a girl like you knows how to get on her knees.”

Get on your knees? What does that have to do with sex?

“For blowjobs, idiot. What- you haven’t sucked a guy off before?”

You don’t even know what a blowjob is and, more than that- you’ve never even seen a guy’s penis before.

The way Dabi snorts at that has you embarrassed- like you’re too lame to hang out with the cool kids because you’re so inexperienced. You want to protest, but he shoves you to the ground before you can so much as let out a squeak. He ignores your gasp and whine and you quickly forget about it when he pulls out his penis. It’s thick and big and it’s pierced- it’s something that has your eyes wide and your thighs pressing together without notice.

You never knew people got that pierced. Didn’t it hurt? Why would he do that?

It sure looks nice, though. Cool- fits a bad boy like him. You...kind of want to touch it? You’ve always been tactile like that and, well, touching it makes someone feel good right? You think you’ve heard that somewhere before, maybe. You want to make Dabi feel good- maybe he’d be nicer to you then, maybe he’d even let you hold his hand while he drags you through the city.

You smile at the thought and watch as Dabi’s hand wraps around himself.

His hand moves in a slow stroke and you blink as you watch- cheeks flushing and head tilting when a pearl of something clear and shiny oozes out of the tip of his penis.

(Dick, you correct yourself. Dabi always calls it his dick.)

It’s such a new and interesting sight that you completely forget you’re in a public stairwell and that anybody could walk by and see you sprawled onto the ground- eyes wide with wonder and cheeks tinted all rosy and sweet as you watch the way Dabi’s hand strokes along his pen- his dick. More of the clear fluid leaks from his tip and you can’t help the surprised noise that leaves you when Dabi smears it down his dick and the sounds of him stroking himself get more wet, more loud.

It sounds....weird. Not a bad weird, but weird all the same.

You’re so caught up in it that you don’t even realize that Dabi’s moved closer and boxed you against the wall until his dick is just inches from your face. When you peek your gaze up to his face, he’s leering down at you- lips stretched wide and eyes narrowed. “Keep starin’ like that and you’ll make me think you want it.” Want it? What does he mean by that?

Confusion settles on your face, but it gets scattered by a swirl of surprise- and a little bit of nervous delight- whenever Dabi’s free hand grips the side of your jaw and presses a thumb against your soft lips. He sneers as your lips part unthinkingly and doesn’t waste time dipping his thumb into your mouth and dragging it over the flats over your teeth, pressing it against your wet tongue.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

Your already red cheeks flush more and you whine a little at his teasing. (Only you could see it as teasing when he’s really just being a dick- as per usual.) The whine gets muffled by another finger slipping into your mouth and you squeak as he grabs onto your tongue, pinches it.

“Guess I’ll just have to educate you today, princess. Bimbo like you is pretty much useless if you don’t even know how to suck someone off.”

Suck someone off? You still don’t know what that even means. Is it, like, sucking on a lolly? What are you supposed to suck? ...Wait. Does he mean...no- no way! That’s where he pees from, right? Why would anyone put their mouth there?

“Open up.”

You’re yanked from your confused thoughts by Dabi forcing your mouth open with a grip that means bruises later on. A panicked noise leaves you and you dart your eyes up at him, squeal whenever you feel the moist tip of his dick circle around the plush O that your lips form. His grin is a little darker than before and you shudder at it, squirm and press your thighs tighter together when you feel something warm blossoming low in your stomach.

You don’t pull away, though. You stay in his grasp like a good girl and just look up at him with wide, nervous eyes as your simple mind frets over what’s about to happen.

Whatever it is, it’ll make Dabi happy, right? It’ll make him feel good? You want to make him feel good. You want Dabi to like you. Surely you can put up with something a little icky if it’ll make him want to hang out with you more. You swallow back the spit that’s slowly welling up in your mouth and tentatively wrap your lips around the head of his dick, give it a cautious suckle.

It tastes...salty? Not bad. It’s softer than you expected too. Kind of almost spongey? You sort of want to bite into it, but you know that would hurt Dabi and he’d get mad- something you try to avoid the best you can.

A hot huff distracts you from your musings and you blink whenever you feel a hand in your hair, float your gaze up to Dabi’s face to watch the way it splits with a grin.

“Don’t choke on it too much, idiot.”

Before you can process that, Dabi’s hips snap forward and suddenly your nose is smushed against his pelvis, his dick is crammed down your throat.

You gag and panic, hands hitting against his calves, and all you get is a laugh in return. You desperately try to swallow around the dick in your throat and breathe in frantic puffs of air through your nose, but it’s hard to remember to do that whenever your throat is molding tight against a thick dick and all those bits of metal dotting along it. If you had the capacity to think, you would swear that you could feel each individual piercing pressing against your throat as it shifts in quick, desperate swallows.

Dabi doesn’t pull his hips back until your vision is spotted and your hands fall limply from his calves and onto the rough concrete. You would tip forward against him if it weren’t for the way his hand has a tight grip in your hair. He watches as you gasp for air- face so red and eyes glossy with tears, spit already dripping down your chin and and chest heaving with each gulp of air you greedily suck in.

You look wrecked already- slutty and dumb and even kinda cute when you cough and more spit spills out of your reddened mouth. It’s a good look for you- something that Dabi is nice enough to tell you.

“I knew you’d look good with my dick down your throat. What a cute little whore you make.”

You could almost call that affectionate. It’s certainly tinted sweeter than the things Dabi usually says to you. You end up squirming a little from his words- thighs brushing together and growing warm and damp- and you flush as you look up at him with adoring, eager eyes.

You don’t flinch when he smacks his spit slicked dick against your cheek- though it makes your heart flutter nervously at the thought of being choked and unable to breathe again- and he laughs down at you, tugs on your hair sharply so your mouth falls open in a gasp.

“C’mon, let’s see how good you look with my cum all over your face.”

Cum? What’s cum?

You only get a half-moment to puzzle over that before Dabi shoves his dick back into your mouth and your thoughts are fractured by the need to breathe.

Luckily, he doesn’t force you to take him all the way to the root this time- he doesn’t lock you against his pelvis and make you choke against his dick resting in your throat. This time his hips push his dick in deep, but not all the way. They thrust him almost fully into your mouth before pulling back and pushing back in. He’s rocking into you now instead of resting inside and that makes it a little bit easier to keep from choking and gagging.

But only a little.

Unluckily, these rocks of his are rough- harsh and fast and relentless. His grip on your hair is tight, tight, tight and all the piercings decorating his dick scrape against the lining of your throat, the roof off your mouth. It hurts and you can’t help whimpering from it- tears leaking from the corner of your eyes from the sting.

That whimper of yours makes him groan and your lashes flutter at the sound, your blurry gaze swims up to look at his face and catch the way his jaw is gritted, how there’s a dusting of pink across his cheeks that you have never seen before.

Oh. Oh. Oh you like that look on him. That look means he’s enjoying himself, right? It means he’s feeling good? You’re making him feel good? God, you wanna make him feel good.

The thought makes you whimper again and your hips rock in a tiny cant when there’s a pulse of something that ripples through you down below- something you’ve never felt before. It makes you want to cup your cunny, but you’re a little too busy trying to concentrate on not gagging on Dabi’s dick- you can’t focus on both those things at once.

So you focus on Dabi instead.

“Fuck- shit. Such a good mouth. You like suckin’ my dick, don’tcha? Fucking little slut. Shoulda done this a long time ago, huh?”

His words make you fluster and a whine chokes out from you- reverberating around his dick and making him grunt, pull you tight against him to take him all. You whimper, again, and try to swallow around him on instinct- tongue sliding along his dick to try to make more room in your mouth.

“Fuuuuck. Shit, yeah, use that fuckin’ tongue.”

Dabi grinds into your throat and you choke, gag along his length. You try to do as he says and do your best to move your tongue against him. That has him growling- almost snarling- and you moan as your lashes flutter and the warm, honeyed pulse down low gets stronger.

All too suddenly, Dabi yanks you off his dick and you’re left coughing and sputtering- spit dripping from your lips and onto the pleats of your skirt. He manhandles you back closer to him and then he’s stroking his dick in your flushed face, huffing out hot puffs of air as he jerks his hand quickly up and down his hard, wet length.

You don’t get any warning when sticky, thick white shoots from him and you gasp when it lands on your face, squeal as it flecks your cheeks and lips and even your eyelashes. You try to swipe it away before it can get into your eyes, but Dabi smacks your hands away with a warning glare that you’re quick to heed with a little gulp.

“Don’t be fuckin’ ungrateful.”

The thought of being ungrateful to him- the one you adore and follow around like a lovesick puppy- makes your eyes widen and you quickly curl your fingers into fists to keep from wiping off the all the...stuff- cum? is that what he called it?- that’s splattered across your face. It kind of grosses you out- it’s so warm and wet and sticky- but Dabi seems to like it so you try to pretend like it’s not there as he fumbles in his pocket and takes out his phone.

You don’t even think to protest when he takes a couple of photos of you like this- on your knees with his dick smushed against your cheek, his cum painted all over your flushed and dumb face.

He stuffs his phone back in his pocket when he’s satisfied and then grabs onto his dick again, strokes it as he eyes you below him.

“Should fuck you too. Breed that little cunt,” he mumbles. “Really teach you how to be a good little whore.”

Fuck you? Breed? Cunt?

You blink innocently in your confusion, cum trying to make your lashes stick to your cheeks, and Dabi opens his mouth only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the stairwell. He lets out a tch instead and steps away from you, stuffs himself back into his pants. He snorts when he sees your furrowed brow and disappointment and turns away from you, begins heading up the steps before you can manage to stumble to your feet.

You whimper at the pins and needles pricking along your legs and let out a whine whenever Dabi disappears from view- frustrated that he’s left you behind so suddenly but not too hurt because, well, he ditches you all the time without warning.

At least with him gone you can safely clean off your face. You quickly wipe his cum off with your handkerchief and try to right yourself the best you can before someone can see you.

So...that was a blowjob? That wasn’t...it wasn’t too bad...maybe...

Your throat hurts, though.

Your fingers glide down the column of your throat and you swallow at the memory of him filling it, flush as you feel your cunny tingle. That....that’s a new sensation. Does...did Dabi feel like that? Or was it different? What is this?

You shake your head, clueless, and stumble toward the stairs with legs that are still half-asleep.

You made Dabi happy, at least, and that’s all that really matters.

#Anonymous #dabi x reader #bnha #rooni's shit #dubcon #mmm love dabi being mean to a dumb little bimbo #i def wanna write a continuation at some point #tw dubcon

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funky-writer-man · 2 years

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@chaotic-queer-disaster @my-endless-fandoms oi you fuckers (affectionate) apparently wanted to read this, and imma @ @nico-slander @nico-slander (both blogs coz idk which is which) @strawberrie-faerie This is a bit of my dumb writing. Feel free to ignore

Opening to a story i will never write, by me

The pain was burning as Wolf stared up at the stormy sky. His back ached from the impact of hitting the ground. His face stung from the blow.

He didn't care.

He couldn't move. That he had deduced. Even if he could move, there were probably 30 soldiers surrounding him. Not that it was a problem.

A sword forced his chin up. His eyes locked with a person. Wolf recognised him, which he found amusing. That man spoke, a quiet but obviously triumphant tone, "It's over for you now, traitor"

Wolf remained quiet as a slow, victorious smirk spread across his lips. "You would think that"

The man, the one he used to know, pursed his lips angrily and snapped "Your time is up. I don't care if you have- have delusions of escape. You're done"

Wolf's smile widened as he slowly pulled his head off of the ground "Happy to see me go, are you, Lucan?". The sword swiftly dug in sharper, "Y-you know what?" the soldier said angrily, "Yes. Yes I am!"

Just a bit more time.

"Damn, I piss you off? Eh Lu?" He asked mockingly. That look was quickly replaced with a pained one as he was rewarded with a swift kick in the ribs. He grunted and his head fell back to the rough concrete.

"Never. Call me that." Lucan growled.

He made some mental calculations. Almost there.

He quickly added, "What, Lucan?". He let out a sharp cry of pain as the flat side of the sword hit his already bruised face.

Lucan snapped, "You know I think you've gotten worse since I last saw you".

Wolf grimaced, "Ditto. Well actually, come to think of it, there are some things in you that are the same.."

Lucan shifted, fist tightening over the hilt of his blade, knuckles whitening. "Oh really?". His voice was low, almost shaking with rage

Wolf smiled. Any moment now.

"Yeah", he said, breathing heavily, as he attempted to lift his upper body off the ground again. "You can't...let go of grudges...can you, eh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grinned toothily, "It means, Lieutenant, when a personal situation presents itself to you...like say, this one…" Lucan's fingers curled.

He took another shallow breath, "You tend to...forget yourself". He smirked, "See, normally, in a very stupidly reckless breachment like this, the...individual in charge is supposed to check for...others...since this is so obviously the sort of thing a distraction would do…"

Lucas took a half step back from him, "Y-you're bluffing. You always bluff". Wolf smirked "I do. But here's the thing, and you should know this; I also love tricking my enemy. And you, darling" he took another painful breath, "-are easy to trick"

Lucas cursed and turned, ordering to someone who he couldn't see, "Search the premises for others".

He laughed hoarsely, "Oh I'm pretty sure you're too late. You took your time, just like I knew you would"

Lucas whipped around back to him. "You don't know me". Wolf coughed, rolling his hurt shoulder with a wince, "I know enough to piss you off. You were...too angry to think".

"You haven't got anything planned," he spat.

With immaculate timing, an ear splitting bang shook the ground. Glass shattered, concrete walls cracked. The group of soldiers erupted into yells of shock.

I wrote this like a couple months ago so uh rip I guess

#regretting this before I even click post #behold all my motivation over the past few months compressed into about 3000 words #yes only 3000 i do not get much motivation #this will be enemies to lovers with Wolf and Lucan btw #that is vital information

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lemontwst · 4 years

Note

Miel-sama can I have the boys reactions to doing a staring contest with the reader, but then reader-chan starts touching their thigh suddenly? 😘

hope you don’t mind me defaulting to Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw for this one, baby!!! also the reader is gender neautral.

Riddle - blinks as soon as your hand makes contact with his thigh and then scolds you for playing dirty. You're such a cheater! He'll demand a rematch immediately. His eyes are pure steel as he glides his hands past your knee and runs slow circles against your inner thigh. So close to your most sensitive place, but not quite where you want him. The cruel smirk on his face tells you this is going to be a long game...

Ace - his shoulders stiffen, his eyes widen, but he manages to keep himself from blinking. This is so much more interesting all of a sudden… he gives you a mischievously grin and starts touching you… everywhere. Fuck subtlety. Ace gropes whatever his greedy hands can reach. It's not like you can stop him. You don't want to lose, do you?

Deuce - blinks and almost dies of a heart attack. You have to keep him from falling off the chair by pulling him back by his tie. W-why would you do that?! He stammers and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, then stubbornly asks for a rematch. He tries to touch you, but you can feel his hands shake as they shyly explore your body. Poor Deuce is going to try so hard, but he'll most likely lose again. His body always reacts very strongly to your touch.

Cater - his hands are on you before you can even reach his leg, let's be honest. He's a champion at this game and as your eyes start to burn you feel like you may have bitten off more than you can chew. He uses this chance to give your soft thighs a good, affectionate rub, smiling like he's doing nothing wrong. Summons one of his clones to touch you from behind, so you get double groped. This game will end in sex, no matter where you are.

Trey - Blinks, arching his eyebrows. Well… that was unexpected. He gives you a beautiful smile and a warm chuckle. One more time. You stupidly agree. His gaze turns seductive as he slooowly runs his fingers up your thighs, then slides them under your shirt and writes his name across your stomach. It doesn't matter if you blink or not, Trey will make sure to drag this game out for as long as he can.

Leona - his body is not very sensitive, so he almost doesn't notice. Almost. Green eyes watch you with veiled interested, a low purr rumbling in his chest. Is that all you’ve got? He smirks and spreads his legs a little wider, daring you to touch him more. He doesn't blink, and just when you're about to give up, you suddenly feel his strong hands on you, roughly groping your legs and chest and messing up your clothes. He won't be gentle about it. After all, this is what you wanted from the start.

Jack - blink blink blink. Then embarrassment catches up to him and he flushes bright scarlet and pulls back, ears flat against his head. You little pervert! Is this why you wanted to play this pointless game?! You'll have to apologize and pat his head for him to calm down. He'll reluctantly agree to play one more round, if only because he can't say no to your puppy eyes. If you touch him again Jack will completely forget about the game, leaning into you with a curious look on his flushed face. Touch him too much and he will eagerly push you down onto the nearest surface, tail swishing behind him.

Ruggie - sees right through you like 98% of the time so he knows what you're about to do and doesn't even flinch. Clicks his tongue condescendingly and smirks. You're such an unruly child, seriously. Ruggie straightens his back, gripping the edges of the chair as his spreads his legs for you. Do your worst, kitten. He challenges you, not even trying to hide how much he likes being touched by you. It's a whole other game for the two of you now, with him trying not to blink or make a sound as you explore his body with your fingers.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #headcanons #gn!reader

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

Text

Tell Me That You Love Me (James Potter x Reader)

PROMPT: James and Y/N are friends with benefits. She fell in love with the Gryffindor, who’s too busy being in love with Lily Evans to realize. After a night of drinking, the truth comes out.

WARNINGS: mentions of smut (not detailed), underaged drinking, sexual tension, angst?

WC: 3.5K+ (sorry, i got carried away)

HP MASTERLIST

This is my submission for @heloisedaphnebrightmore‘s 1K follower challenge! Congratulations, love!

Trope: Unrequited Love

“Stop sending me mixed signals.”

“Can you kiss me? One last time?”

pt. 2

tell me that you love me (j.p one shot)

You watched from the corner of the room as the entire Gryffindor Common Room erupted in laughter as the Marauders told the story of one of their infamous pranks. James was positively glowing, dancing under the moonlight that managed to sneak through the curtains. In his hand was a cup, that no doubt contained his alcoholic concoctions that nobody but he dared to try. His eyes closed in glee as he threw his head back in laughter, watching Sirius mimic the way Snape looked after their successful prank.

You smiled behind your cup, truly enchanted by the boy you found yourself longing for. When you said yes to your agreement, you thought your biggest worry would be an unexpected pregnancy, caused by two teenagers who were too careless for their own good. You thought your biggest worry would be the teasing from the rest of the Marauders— which still happened, just not to the extremity that you expected. You thought that your biggest worry would be some awkward tension after the first time between you and James, that you knew would subside eventually.

You never thought that you’d fall in love— fall so stupidly, irretrievably, and hopelessly, in love with the boy who loved another.

You watched his eyes follow Lily as she walked across the room, chatting away with her friends about her latest Potions assignment. James didn’t even try to conceal his affections for her. He always loved her so loudly, as if his silence would mean he loved her any less than he actually did. You just had to sit back and watch as her rejections only fueled him to try harder. It was somewhat admirable, though you knew that you would’ve found it more endearing had you not been in love with him.

James finally tore his eyes away from Lily, sensing you looking at him from afar. He flashed you a toothy grin, completely oblivious to the thoughts that were plaguing your mind and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. A playful smirk tugged his lips as he furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his hand up to call you over.

You shook your head, politely declining as you sipped from your cup. He rolled his eyes, dramatically sighing before making his way to you. He planted himself right in front of you, leaning against the post that was beside him. James ran his fingers down from the top of your arm to your fingers, absentmindedly twisting his fingers with yours. He’s always been an affectionate friend, these simple actions were normal for the both of you, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from burning red.

He chuckled, watching your reaction, “Do I make you flustered, Y/N? After all this time? After all we’ve done together, me touching your hand, is what gets you flustered?”

You shoved him, shaking your head to deny his claims, “The alcohol is getting to me, Potter. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“The alcohol?” he asked, not believing any of your words, “You’ve barely touched your drink. I’m pretty sure you’ve been sipping that drink for the last hour.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want to be pissed drunk tonight,” you hummed, chugging your drink down anyway.

James licked his lips, watching the lone drop of alcohol slip past your pink lips. He brushed it away with his thumb, collecting the liquid before letting his own tongue taste it. His thumb stayed on top of his lips for a while, keeping you in a trance. You watched his tongue dart out of his mouth, softly licking the pad of his thumb, a teasing smile on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Atta girl,” he whispered, peering down at your cup to see it empty. He turned around, picking up a bottle of firewhisky and pouring a generous amount into your cup, “Are you sure you don’t want to be pissed drunk tonight, sweetheart? It’s a good night for it.”

“I can think of a better way to spend the night.”

“Oh?” James cocked an eyebrow, a twinkle of mischief evident in his eye. His eyes trailed down your body, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth in the process. “Wanna get out of here?”

You ignored your better judgement— the voice in your head that told you to put yourself first for once. Deep down you knew you would feel terrible when you woke up to an empty bed in the morning, knowing James never once spent the night. You knew you’d have to smile and nod the next day over breakfast, as James gushed about how gorgeous Lily was. You knew you’d end up alone at the end of the day, at the end of it all.

But you couldn’t deny him, especially not when he’s looking as handsome as he does with his hair slicked back perfectly and a boyish innocence on his face. He patiently waited for your response, even though he knew you would say yes. James tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, humming in content when you finally nodded.

His eyes lit up, already getting ready to slip past everyone in the small party to sneak up to your dormitory. James took the cup from your hands and placed it mindlessly on the table next to him. He pointed towards the stairs with his head, motioning for you to follow him. And like a lost puppy, like you always did, you followed right behind him.

You were almost at the start of the steps, going undetected for the most part, before Peter stopped the both of you. His hand tapped James’ shoulder, causing James to look at him impatiently. Peter didn’t realize what he was interrupting, starting up a conversation with you and James, to which you replied to with one word answers.

James shot you an apologetic look, intertwining your hands together. He mouthed, “Sorry.”

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke up with a sentence to offer the babbling boy, “Hey, Peter. James and I were just going to get some important stuff done, is there something in particular that you needed us for?”

The boy paused as if trying to remember if there was something important. Then he snapped up, tuning to face James, “Oh! Lily is looking for you.”

And just like that, you became nobody to James Potter.

His hand let go of yours as he pushed past you, running to where Lily stood. You grunted as his shoulder collided with yours, hissing in pain as you began to massage it. You watched his smile reach from ear to ear, heart breaking as he looked at Lily with pure adoration in his eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding before stealing the cup that stayed untouched in Peter’s hand, drowning it in one go.

You coughed, a scowl evident on your face, “What in the hell was that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “Prongs made it.”

“Dammit,” you muttered, already anticipating a mean hangover the next day. “So much for not getting pissed drunk.”

It seemed like tonight was just the night of bad decisions. You continued to ignore your better judgement, taking any and every drink being offered to you. You figured that if you weren’t going to get laid tonight, you might as well get drunk. Sirius shot you a wink as he slid over a cup with clear liquid in it.

You stared at it, fearing that it would be the last shot you take before you pass out. You lost count of how many drinks you’ve had over the past hour and a half. You shook your head, sliding it back to him, “No more for me, Pads.”

“Come on, Y/N/N,” he groaned, sliding it back to you again, “You’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

You reluctantly took the cup in your hand, ignoring Sirius’ silent celebration that you’re still standing with him. You drank the liquid quickly, gagging at the awful taste it left in your mouth, “You will literally be the death of me, Sirius Black.”

“Don’t go dying on me, Y/L/N,” Sirius chuckled, bidding you a goodbye, “We’re supposed to live forever!”

You sat on the couch, watching as students began to head up to their dormitories. It felt like you were silently watching everyone’s life pass you by, noticing things that you probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to if you were sober. You noticed two fifth years giggling and scurrying away to the girls’ dormitories, hands roaming each other’s bodies. The boy began to kiss up her neck and she pulled him flush to her chest before they disappeared into the night.

James was alone now, a goofy smile still on his face. He saw you sitting by yourself and plopped down next to you, half leaning on your body for support. He smelled different— like strawberries and flowers, like Lily. He let his head fall onto your lap. You sent him a tight-lipped smile, brushing his hair away from his forehead with your fingers. He snuggled deeper into your touch, a giddy hum slipping past his parted lips. Your mind was hazy, the alcohol finally catching up to you. You closed your eyes for a quick second, trying to calm the pounding in your head.

James poked your side, startling your moment of peace, “You tired?”

“You can say that,” you nodded, eyes fluttering closed. The alcohol in your system took over your senses. Words began to slip past your lips before you could think them through, “Stay?”

He looked up at you, his head laying flat on your lap. James knew he shouldn’t stay. It would be weird— two friends falling asleep on the couch together, friends who also happen to have sex every other day, but he looked at your tired figure and decided one night wouldn’t hurt. He awkwardly wrapped his arm around your waist, “Sure, Y/N/N.”

“Thanks, Prongs.”

James stared at the ceiling, thinking of Lily. He was making progress, he knew it. Lily was now looking for him, wanting to talk to him first. He smiled to himself, replaying their short conversations in his mind. He stirred around, shifting his body to fit snugly on the couch. He had so much energy in his body from the alcohol and the adrenaline he got after he walked Lily back to her dormitory. James could’ve swore she blushed when he wished her a goodnight.

He felt you move from under him, an indication that you were still awake, as he was. James cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a while, “Hey, Y/N/N?”

You kept your eyes closed, “Yes?”

“Do you think Lily would ever fall in love with me?”

Your eyes opened up, his words sparking a fuse in you. Suddenly, you were wide awake, the tiredness from the drinks you had were now replaced with boldness and to your dismay, recklessness. Without missing a beat you replied, “She’d be crazy not to.”

“Yeah?” he asked, fondness laced through his voice. He looked up at you, extending his neck to be able to stare at you in the eyes. “You really think so?”

“‘Course, Prongs,” you gulped, trying to disguise the tears in your eyes as glossiness from your high. You decided to cut the tension with a joke, hoping that he won’t take notice of the way your voice shook as you spoke, “But then again, you can be pretty annoying so I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted nothing to do with you.”

“Stop sending me mixed signals,” he groaned, sitting up from his earlier spot. “You know I’m in love with her.”

You instantly missed his weight on you, a pang of jealousy hit you square in the chest. You let yourself smile at his words, fighting back the feelings that wanted to burst out of you. The liquid courage wasn’t helping the cause. You pushed his shoulder playfully, “Only joking. Lily would be absolutely mental not to fall in love with you, too.”

Your words gave James new-found hope. He began to talk about how beautiful Lily was, completely ignoring the way you faced away from him as he began to declare his love for her, yet again. You sniffled quietly, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your jumper. James continued to speak, looking at the fire in the distance, love practically oozing out of eyes.

He sighed, adoringly in love, “She’s the best girl I’ve ever met, Y/N/N. Like I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as great as her. Merlin! I don’t think I’d ever meet anyone as great as her. Isn’t she amazing?”

You weakly nodded, exhausted from holding in your sobs, “Yeah, Prongs she is.”

“Yeah, and she’s so smart— Hey, what’s wrong?” he frowned, noticing the tears that stubbornly slipped from your eyes, “Why are you crying?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the boy in front of you— completely panicked, trying to figure out how on earth he should comfort a woman. You stared at him, feeling yourself fall deeper and deeper with every breath that he let past his lips. You cupped his face with your hand, knowing full well that you were no longer in control of your thoughts. If he were to ask you what’s wrong again, you were going to tell him. All of your sober thoughts will be spilled by your drunk self.

So you let yourself take advantage of this moment— this final moment— before you let go of James Potter forever.

You rubbed his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, running over the new scar he got from playing Quidditch last week. You stared at his lips, remembering the way they felt like home whenever he kissed you. You studied his features, knowing it will be a long time from now before you get to be this close to him again. You smiled at him sadly, trying to look past the look of confusion on his beautiful face.

“Prongs,” you whispered, lips trembling, “Prongs, I… I’m in love with you.”

He sat there for a moment, completely silent, before he backed away from your touch. He backed up until his back hit the other side of the couch, wincing as the hard cushion jabbed against the small of his back. He stared at you in disbelief. James thought his ears were deceiving him because you? In love with him? That wasn’t possible. A nervous chuckle filled the silence, “Good one, Y/N.”

You sighed, dropping your head in your hands. You knew you had half your foot in the door at this point, there was no turning back now. You spoke into your palms, “I wish I was kidding.”

“But-... Y/N, we- no, no. We agreed, didn’t we?” he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends of it in frustration. “We agreed we wouldn’t catch feelings! I agreed, Y/N. You did too!”

“Sorry my feelings didn’t follow our binding contract,” you sarcastically remarked, half-irritated and half-nervous at his words, “I don’t know if you’re aware, Prongs, but feelings don’t really follow the rules.”

“Y/N,” he sighed angrily, pacing over to you. “No! This—” he motioned between the two of you, “—can’t happen.”

You knew the answer to your next question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking it anyway, “Why not James?”

“You know why.”

“Say it, anyway.”

“I’m not gonna say it now that I know—”

You pushed back, “Know what?”

James waved his hands around like a maniac, “This! You! Us! Now that I know about how you feel…. Ugh, Merlin’s beard, Y/N! I’m not gonna say it just to hurt you.”

“Why not?” you spat, getting up to confront him. “You didn’t have a problem gushing to me about your precious Lily a few minutes ago. Didn’t seem to have a problem talking about her right after you pull out of me, every single damn time. Prongs, you didn’t have a problem saying it then!”

“Because I didn’t know!” his voice was stern, but he lowered his volume, becoming aware of the time. He didn’t want to wake anyone up and have them listen into this conversation that the two of you were having now. “Y/N, I didn’t know that you… felt this way.”

You flinched as he shuddered, “No need to act like it’s the plague, James. My feelings for you aren’t bad.”

He ignored your comment, pacing back and forth in front of the fire, “Y/N, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you fall in love with me?” he asked, grimacing as the words rolled off his tongue, “Why did you not say anything before your feelings got stronger? We could’ve stopped this! Why now? Just… why?”

You pondered his questions for a moment, trying to figure out how you were going to phrase your words together. You took a deep breath, “I-I didn’t mean to, James. Trust me, if I realized that I was falling in love with you, I would’ve stopped this too. It’s just.. It happened so fast, Prongs. I think I woke up one day and it just clicked, y’know?”

You let out a wet chuckle, hoping that he would laugh along with you.

He didn’t.

You continued, “I think a part of me always has been in love with you, even before we made this deal or whatever you wanna call it. It just took me a while to realize it and once I did, I was selfish. I thought you’d realize that maybe you had feelings for me too.”

“You’re drunk,” he finally said. He shook his head, refusing to believe the words that he was hearing. “You’re just drunk and talking out your arse.”

“Potter, I’m serious!” you groaned, you pulled him by his forearm, twisting him around to face you. His chest collided with yours, the close proximity making you shiver. You felt his fingers touch the skin of your back, exposed by your jumper that hiked up. His hands found their way to your hips, like it always did. “I’m so in love with you, James. Is there any part of you that feels the same way?”

He stopped breathing. James’ eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. His head slowly inched closer to yours, leaning down in an angle that seemed to almost capture your lips in a kiss. You felt his breath exhale from his mouth, the scent of firewhisky clouding your senses. You closed your eyes, awaiting the familiar feeling of his lips on yours. The feeling that you dreamt about every night and wished to wake up to every morning.

But it never came.

James’ hand pulled away from your skin, as if he was burned by touching you. He didn’t back away yet, he just let himself stand with his chest pressed against yours, but not daring to do anything else. His forehead knocked against yours softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt your eyelashes tickle his cheeks. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that the minute you two made eye contact would be the end of whatever it was that you shared— agreement, friendship, relationship, whatever it was, will only be a memory.

James opened his eyes, moving his head away from yours. He stared into your eyes, feeling guilty for the next words that he was about to say. He whispered, so softly, you almost didn’t catch it, “I’m in love with Lily.”

A choked sob escaped your body, despite your protests against it. You quickly placed a hand over your mouth, not missing the way James cringed at the sound. You managed to put on a smile, although it was a pathetic one, you were proud of yourself for it. You nodded, weakly, feeling him pull away from you, “I know.”

James walked backwards on his way back to the boys’ dormitories. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, so vulnerable and broken and alone in the middle of the Common Room. He stopped before he reached the first step, debating on what he should do next.

You met his eyes, seeing the pity that filled them. Your pride was already long gone. It left the minute you confessed your love for him, knowing full well he was in love with someone else. So you spoke up before he disappeared into the dark of the night, before he left your life forever, “Can you kiss me? One last time?”

“Y/N…”

You closed your eyes, breathing out of your nose. Your chest grew heavy, knowing him well enough to know what that tone of his voice meant. No.

When you opened your eyes again, you were met with an empty Common Room. You stared at the spot where James once stood, listening to the sound of his receding footsteps tapping against the steps as he walked up to his dormitory.

#heloises1kwritingchallenge #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter x yn #the marauders #frances writes #frances song fics

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spacesuitsforemergency · 4 years

Text

Earth Angel

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Sam Alexander x Quill! Reader

Summary: Sam Alexander is an idiot

A/N: Btw this is the Guardians of the Galaxy plot line, but with my own spin. Set after Guardians 2. Sam’s backstory based off the Disney XD cartoon and comics. Also when I say her skin is Snow White I mean actual white, her being alien and all. First oneshot, kinda nervous 👉👈

Sam Alexander is an idiot.

It was just one of the facts of life. Like physics, death, that planets weren’t flat, or that Footloose is one of the greatest movies of all time.

He was annoying, he thought he was better than you because he could fly and stuff, and he stole your dads attention.

You were the daughter of the legendary outlaw, ex-Ravager, half god, Star Lord. Also the product of a one night stand with some alien chick. You never knew your mother, she dumped you with him as a baby. You never felt the need to find her, you had a family that loved you, even if they showed it in weird ways.

Rocket was cool, he taught you mechanics and how to build weapons that could blow up moons. Drax protected you as if you were his own daughter. Groot was nice to chill with when you wanted peace and quiet from your crazy family, he just stuck to his video games. Mantis was weird, but a good cook. Nebula was mean and scary, and she hated kids. She didn’t live on the Milano though, so it was chill. Gamora was a buzzkill, but taught you self defense and strategy. Plus she was dating your dad.

Then Sam Alexander, Nova, showed up one day. They spent more and more time helping him control his powers and find his dad. You felt left out and a little ignored, only increasing your resentment for the Earthling. You understood of course, if you got separated from your family you’d do anything you could to find them, but did he have to also be obnoxious and self absorbed? Of course he did.

You watched as Gamora, Drax and Groot began teaching him target practice, in the middle of the hallway. Because obviously that’s the ideal spot. He wasn’t a terrible shot, but he did miss and nearly shoot your dads head off.

“Woah! Watch where you’re pointing those things!” Quill shrieked as he jumped away from the energy beam.

“Oops.” Sam shrugged stupidly.

“You might want to get out of the way.” Gamora warned.

“Y/N, what’s up kiddo?” Your dad asked as he reached you, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“He’s an awful shot.” You shook your head when Sam idiotically missed and hit the wall again.

“Think you can do better?” He turned and grinned cockily at you.

“I know I can.” You snapped back, glaring at the moronic look on his face.

“They shall compete, whoever wins will shoot the other in victory.” Drax announced.

“Nobody’s shooting anybody.” Your dad sighed. “Remember what happened last time?”

“A competition could motivate Samuel to do better.” Gamora shrugged. “I say it’s worth a shot.”

“What do you say? Up for it?” Your dad asked you both.

“It’s on, White Out.” Sam cracked his knuckles.

“You’re going down, Bucket Boy.” You sneered at him as you stood up, crossing the deck to glare up at him.

Star Lord tossed you one of your elemental guns, and Groot grew more fruits along his arm as targets. You both began shooting, your shots much more clean and precise, while his were messy and just plain luck.

“Ha! I win!” You cheered in victory.

“What? No way! I got way more than you did!” Sam crossed his arms.

“Are you kidding? You got like, 3!”

“Nuh Uh!”

“Drax! Did you see?” You whipped around angrily.

“It is true. Y/N Quill did win the competition.” Drax nodded. “You may now shoot Samuel in victory.”

“Gladly.” You turned back around and shot at his feet, making him yelp and jump away.

“Hey! Stop it!” He complained before running as you shot again.

“Get back here, coward!” You yelled as you chased him around the ship.

“Ow! Can someone stop her?”

Drax and Groot watched as he ran away from you as if he were being pursued by an army, and you charged and shot at his feet to scare him.

“She likes him, you know?” Gamora cleared her throat.

“What? No she doesn’t.” Quill scoffed as they watched. “She clearly hates him.”

“I agree with Gamora. Violence is the highest form of flattery.” Drax asked.

“I don’t think that’s right...”

“I am Groot.”

“Exactly! Thank you, Groot.” Quill laughed.

“You’re so cute.” Gamora chuckled. “You’ll see. I hated you when we first met, remember?”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Who’s killing who?!” Rocket yelled from somewhere below deck. “Can you guys keep the racket down?!”

“Ow! That’s my ankle!” Sam screeched.

“Oops! I do so sincerely apologize!”

“Okay, enough shooting, children! How about lunch?”

•

Sam didn’t know why you hated him so much. What’s not to like? He could flirt, he was handsome, he had a nice smile, and was the Human Rocket! He was cool!

Sure he had to make everything a competition, and sure he purposely aggravated you, and sure he teased you a lot, and sure he said stupid stuff...okay so he could see why you weren’t thrilled with his presence.

He didn’t know why he acted like this with you, he just...did. It definitely wasn’t cause he was a little intimidated by you. By your chocolate brown eyes, your smooth dark hair, your angelic, snow white complexion, your captivating smile or charismatic personality...no! Definitely not that.

When he initially met you he was charmed by your dorkiness and sarcasm. You greeted him happily and asked a bunch of questions. Overtime he noticed you became more distant, and you were competitive and angry at him. For no reason! It definitely wasn’t cause he called you Crest 3D White, that’s for sure.

“I can assist you, you know.”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to see Drax had joined him in the lounge, where he was playing an ancient video game from like, the 80s.

“I know you are attracted to Miss Y/N Quill.”

“W-What? No I...I don’t. What do you mean? Not me.” Sam stuttered, shaking his head quickly. “No I uh...I hate her! Yeah, she’s annoying.”

“But so are you. You are both dancers.”

“Huh?” He said stupidly, once again.

“Drax, leave the kid be, would ya?” Rocket said from his other side. Great, another eye witness of Sam’s humiliation.

“Samuel, I will tell you the same thing I told Quill to motivate him to pursue his love for Gamora.” Drax ignored the not-raccoon.

“Oh, here we go.” Rocket groaned. “Don’t listen to this nonsense-“

“There are two types of beings.” Drax continued. “Those that dance, and those that do not. You are a dancer. Miss Quill is a dancer.”

“Okay, so we both dance? So what?” Sam questioned.

“He means go for it!” Rocket rolled his eyes dramatically. “Listen, I’m only saying this cause I’m sick of watching you make goo goo eyes at her.”

“I don’t do that-“

“She likes you, you like her. What’s the holdup?”

“Well, she hates me?”

“Y/N Quill does not hate you, Samuel.” Drax heavily pat his shoulder. “She is much like Gamora. The more she shows dislike, the more she is allured by you.”

“That’s wrong on so many levels.” Rocket scoffed. “But he’s right.”

“Huh?” Sam gawked, once again.

This touching and informing conversation was interrupted when the ships was knocked aside by an explosion. They ran up front, seeing Chitauri battleships.

“They’re here for the helmet!” Gamora yelled to the team.

“Jump point! Jump point!” Quill ran to the controls, Rocket hopping into the co pilot seat.

“Y/N! Take Sam and take the back blasters!” Gamora ordered you.

“Come on, Bucket Head!” You grabbed his arm and dragged him below deck, leading him into the small room.

You and Sam quickly got in the chairs and activated the blasters, beginning to shoot down the Chitauri ships. The Milano shook as it was hit by the Chitauri weapons, the explosions loud and intense.

“Damn, you are a good shot!” Sam yelled over the commotion.

“I know!” You grinned, caught up in the excitement of the battle. “On your right!”

A blast hit the glass, nearly cracking it. You cursed and yelled up to the deck to get you guys out of there.

“Prepare for jump!” Gamora yelled down.

You both held onto your seats, before the ship catapulted through the jump point. You both fell forward onto the glass when the ship abruptly stopped, Sam hitting his nose directly on it.

You groaned as you got up, looking and seeing blood pouring down Sam’s face.

“Oh great, get blood all over the seats.” You teased. “I gotta clean that later.”

“Thanks for the concern.” He scoffed.

“I’m kidding. Come on.” You grabbed his arm and helped him up.

“You guys okay?” Your dad shouted as he ran below deck.

“Bucket Heads bucket didn’t protect his face.” You giggled as you handed Sam a roll of paper towels.

“Oh shut up.” He grumbled as he took off said Bucket and held a paper towel to his nose.

“Okay. Don’t use your helmet for now. We need to come up with a game plan.” Your dad ordered him. “Groot! Stay down here with them!”

“What? Why can’t we have a say in this?” You instantly snapped.

“Y/N, it’s time for the grown ups to talk.” Your dad said sternly as Groot trudged down the stairs, going to his room.

“But dad-!”

“Stay down here, okay? Keep an eye out behind us, Alright?”

“Fine.” You mumbled, plopping down onto the couch.

“Thank you.” Quill sighed before going back up to the deck.

Now it was awkward. Just you and Sam Alexander, the stupid Bucket Head. He avoided eye contact with you, focusing on holding the paper towel to his nose.

You tapped your fingers on the arm of the couch, trying to think of anything to break the tension and awkward silence. You didn’t have a tv down here, and the cassette player was above deck.

“Uh...you hungry?” You asked after awhile.

“Sure.” Sam shrugged.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed some snacks, tossing some to Sam as you walk back. You both silently ate, looking at anything but the other person. It was so quiet you could hear the muffled arguing of the Guardians above deck, in the lounge in an attempt to keep their conversation secret.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sam said finally, after an excruciating...25 minutes.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Why do you hate me?”

You looked up from your food, your brown eyes locking on his green ones.

“I don’t hate you.” You sighed.

“Then why did you try to kill me the other day?” He chuckled. “And you always...glare at me.”

“I just...” you take a breath. “I don’t hate you. I’m just...you take up a lot of my dads attention.”

He blinks, then realizes what you’re saying.

“You’re jealous?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s not push it.” You say sternly, then soften up again. “But yeah.”

“Uh...why?”

“It’s gonna sound bratty.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat. “As soon as you got here, all the attention was on you. It’s always just been us, no one else. It was hard adjusting, I guess. My dad hasn’t really noticed me much cause he’s been focused on you. I understand, of course.”

“Oh...”

“I told you it’d sound bratty.”

“No! No.” Sam cleared his throat. “Not at all I just...I didn’t realize it. I just thought you didn’t like me.”

“Well, you are pretty annoying.” You giggle. “You think you’re a better shot than me.”

“I am though.” He grinned.

There was another long stretch of silence, but this one wasn’t uncomfortable or tense.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t really had a father figure in awhile. Your dads cool.” He fidgeted with his helmet, which was in his lap.

“He is.” You nod.

You both smile softly at each other, finally understanding the other for the first time since meeting.

“Wanna sneak upstairs and eavesdrop?” You offer.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He gave you a mischievous grin.

•

“Gamora! Drax! Rocket! Mantis! Quick! Somethings wrong with the children!” Quill whispered shouted into the kitchen, where said Guardians were eating.

“What? Did they finally kill the other?” Gamora asked as she joined Quill behind the doorway.

“No! They’re getting along!”

He pointed to where you and Sam were lounging together, laughing and chatting away.

“Well we can’t hear them over this damn music.” Rocket grumbled.

“If we turn it off they’ll get suspicious! You know how teenagers are!”

“Do you think they’ve lost attraction to each other?” Drax asked. “There are no signs of violence.”

“Which is a good thing, man.” Quill insisted. “Look at them! They’re basically in each other’s laps!”

“What do you-“

Gamora was cut off when suddenly you kissed Sam. The Guardians’ jaws all dropped, and Quill went to go go break it up.

“Don’t you dare!” Mantis tugged him back.

“The Creepy Bug Lady is right. You should never interrupt a moment like this, especially between beings their age.” Drax told Quill.

“We cannot give away that we’ve been spying on them.” Gamora nodded.

“They’ll never know, Sam’s too busy sucking face with my daughter!”

•

Of course you knew they were watching you. They weren’t exactly known for being inconspicuous.

Ever since the Chitauri attack you and Sam had gotten along great. You weren’t fighting or shooting each other anymore, and any competition was purely for fun. You were surprised nobody had pointed it out yet, since the Guardians has no shame in calling anybody out, and weren’t exactly known for thinking before they speak.

You saw them out of the corner of your eye while Sam was telling you about new video games on earth that were much bette than the ‘trash’ your dad owned. You just wished the music was quieter so you could hear what they were saying.

“Sam?” You said suddenly.

He stopped mid sentence and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. He assumed you would tell him something personal, since nobody says ‘can I tell you something?’ followed by something unimportant.

“I think I like you.”

“Well, you obviously don’t hate me anymore.” He shrugged. You blinked, thinking he was joking at first. Nobody could be this stupid. Yet of course, he proved you wrong.

“No, Sam.” You laugh. “I like you. Like like you.”

His eyes widen in realization, and his face heats up. He opens his mouth to say something, but he ended up looking like a bonehead.

Come on Sam! Say something! Anything! Anything at all!

“Neat.”

Not that!

“Oh, uh...” your face falls.

“No! That’s not what I meant!” He quickly says, now even more red and flustered. “I uh...I like you too! I just didn’t think you felt the same way, Y’know? You’re like really cool and really pretty. Not that I like you cause of your looks! That’s just a plus! You’re badass! Not that I-“

You cut him off by kissing him, and you could hear your dad shriek over the music. Sam stiffened, eyes wide. When he finally kisses back you realize he’s actually a good kisser. He hooks and arm around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck.

When you pull away you both don’t know what to say, just staring into each other’s eyes.

Come on Sam, think of something.

His eyes turned to the cassette player when a familiar song started playing. His mom used to play it in the car on the way home from school.

Earth angel, Earth angel, will you be mine? My darling dear, love you all the time. I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.

“Do you uh...wanna dance?” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Earth angel, Earth angel, the one I adore. Love you for ever, and ever more. I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you.

You smile at the offer, standing and pulling him up with you. You guide one of his hands to your waist, intertwine your fingers with his other hand.

I fell for you, and I knew. The vision of your love's loveliness. I hope and I pray, that some day. I'll be the vision of your hap, happiness.

You both sway gently with each other, your head resting on his shoulder, this time unaware of the eyes on you.

“Told you she liked him.” Gamora whispered to Quill.

“Yeah yeah.” Quill grumbled, keeping his eyes on the two of you.

“See Rocket? They’re both dancers.” Drax grinned proudly.

You giggled as he dipped you, leaning down and kissing you gently.

Oh, oh, oh, Earth angel, Earth angel, please be mine. My darling dear, love you for all time. I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.

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raleighcarrera · 4 years

Text

magic in the hamptons

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

raleigh and cadence enjoy the summer before he leaves for tour in the fall.

~3.4k words of pure gratuitous ns/fw (18+ only)

she giggled wildly as raleigh sprayed champagne all over the floor of the yacht, the sound of her laughter only spurring him on. at her encouragement, he shook the bottle harder, laughing himself as he angled the spray first towards her, and then, when she leapt away with a shriek, over the railing and down the side of the boat.

as cadence ran up the few steps to the top of the deck he brought the bottle to his lips, drinking deeply before following her with a grin. she’d already settled on the bench at the highest point of the boat and had her arms pillowed on the railing with her chin perched atop them, paying him no mind as she gazed out at the ocean. her voice was awed when she said, “this is incredible.”

he tipped his head until his sunglasses slipped down his nose, and let his gaze slowly wander the length of her back. with her legs folded beneath her, he had the perfect view of what seemed like miles of suntanned, freckled skin, and then finally -- a simple white bikini bottom stretched over her perfect ass. “oh, it’s really something.”

she twisted over her shoulder and caught him looking, the expression on her face first surprised, and then pleased, her cheeks pink when she grinned at him. he only smirked unabashedly back, holding out the half-empty champagne bottle as a peace offering.

cadence took it from his hands and tilted her head back for a long sip. he wasn’t subtle about staring at her while she did it, his fingertips itching with the urge to pop a new bottle just so he could spray her down with it and then clean her up on his own. this far out from the shore, there weren’t any paparazzi to snap pictures of them acting up, meaning he was officially out of self-restraint.

she looked at him like he had something on his face. “why are you staring at me like that?”

honesty was always his favorite policy, at least where she was concerned. she always made the best faces when he said what was on his mind. “i’m just thinking about later... when we bring this boat back to the marina. and i hand the keys in... knowing that we had sex on every last inch of it.”

predictably, her face flushed prettily. she was stunned for only a second before she arched her eyebrows at him. “but we haven’t had sex at all.”

raleigh leaned in, crowding her against the boat’s railing. without missing a beat, he pulled the bottle from between them and set it on the floor. his gaze swept warmly over her face as he leaned in, his cocky grin widening when just his proximity made her eyes go half-lidded, her inhales turning suddenly sharper. how could he not smirk at her, when she looked at him like that?

cadence made a sound akin to annoyance and reached up to thread her fingers into his hair. that was the thing he liked most about her, he realized, as her grip tightened and she yanked him into a kiss -- she wasn’t afraid to make the first move. though it seemed like every day he was coming up with some new thing he liked most about her.

he leaned over her on the bench until she was almost flat on her back, reaching out blindly for her bare thigh and curling his fingers over her skin. she was warm from the sun and sighing into his mouth in a way that was music to his ears, better than anything he or anyone had ever won a stupid vinyl award for.

he hitched her leg around his waist in the cramped space of the ledge and then, without warning, lifted her up so they could stand, their mouths dislodging for only a moment while he focused on getting them down the few steps on the deck safely. the smile she was giving him sucked him in completely, making his heartbeat ratchet up dangerously. even if he’d wanted to look away, it seemed impossible.

“where are we going?”

in lieu of an answer, he set her down gently on the floor of the boat, standing over her silently for a long moment just so he could look at her, chuckling when her bottom lip thrust out into a pout nearly instantly. “impatient, are we?”

she stopped pouting. a glint appeared in her eyes that let him know he was in trouble. she reached up and tugged on the string holding her bikini top in place until it came loose and fell away. without breaking eye contact, she tossed it over to the far side of the boat.

“jesus christ,” he mumbled, his throat suddenly dry. surely this was the thing he liked most about her.

the smile she shot him let him know that she thought she’d won, and he couldn’t have that. he dropped to the deck of the yacht with a thud, kneeling between her spread legs. as soon as she was within reaching distance, his hands were on her urgently, skimming up her sides and running over her newly bare skin. his fingers gently brushed over each side of her chest, and he shot cadence a crooked grin as she demanded, her voice wavering with a moan, “now who’s impatient?”

raleigh ducked down and kissed her again, his mouth hot and insistent and urgent. when she broke away from him with a gasp, he moved his lips along her jaw, kissing a quick trail to the spot behind her ear he loved marking with his teeth. “cadence, cadence, cadence,” he chided, one hand sliding down to her hip and fiddling with the string holding her bottoms together, “they’re going to hear you begging for me back on the beach.”

his hips pressed her down onto the floor of the boat and she groaned, tossing her arm over her face and covering her eyes. with his free hand, he reached up to pull it away, gently grasping her wrist and pinning it to the deck above her head. “no way,” he murmured, his voice low, “am i letting you hide that pretty face from me. now hold still.”

“raleigh,” she whined, as he deftly used the hand at her hip to pull her bikini bottoms off and away, brushing his fingertips tenderly against the insides of her thighs.

“i’ve got you.” for a moment, he forgot completely what he was supposed to be doing, stuck on the sight of her, stretched out naked beneath him. “god, you’re beautiful.”

“raleigh,” she repeated, her voice more insistent this time, “don’t you dare--”

her words cut off abruptly into a long, gorgeous moan as his fingers finally dipped between her folds, and he watched with rapt attention as her back arched up off the floor, her eyelids fluttering shut. “yes,” she gasped, “yes, raleigh, i need...”

a single fingertip found her clit and swirled delicately around it, providing neither the pressure nor the pace he was sure she was hoping for. “what do you need?”

her nose scrunched up in a manner that was far too cute for someone he wanted to fuck so badly. he leaned down to hide his smile against the side of her neck, pressing kisses to her skin. her hips twisted beneath him and he let her gasps fill his ears as his fingers pushed in further, his lips sliding down to her chest. “hmm?” he questioned again, panting against her skin, “what is it? you can tell me.”

she lifted her free hand and gripped his shoulder tightly, her eyes flying open to lock onto his. “raleigh,” she groaned again, clearly frustrated, “just -- please --”

immediately, he dipped down to kiss her, savoring the way she melted into it and how she opened up for him. he took his time exploring her mouth with thorough, even pressure, languidly moving his lips against hers as a reward for her plea. when he finally pulled back to catch his breath he couldn’t help but to shoot her a grin, affectionately bumping his nose into hers. “atta girl.”

before cadence could find it within herself to muster up a sarcastic remark, he gave in, rubbing two fingers against her clit in the exact way she liked, gratified by the way her nails immediately set into the skin of his shoulder and scratched. he spared a brief, fleeting thought to the crowd back at the beach party, grinning into the valley between her breasts as he imagined the looks on their faces when they returned from their little escape, the whispers that would follow them around the beach.

the thought was gone as quickly as it came. cadence was grabbing at his hair, demanding his full attention -- she tugged him into another desperate kiss that left his whole body buzzing, his hand releasing her wrist so that he could be free to touch her all over without letting up on the insistent motion between her legs, fueled by the hungry gasps she kept pouring into his mouth.

“raleigh,” she moaned, and he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as he committed the sound to memory. it was going to get a lot of replays while he was on his fall tour, he was certain. “oh, god. that feels so good.”

just the sight of her was enough to make him achingly hard, and the sounds she was making weren’t helping. his hips pressed urgently into her thigh as he encouraged, “that’s it, baby. i want to see you lose it for me.”

“oh.” her breath hitched, and her hips rocked against his hand one last time before she shivered underneath him, her pretty mouth dropping open with a loud moan. she swore as she came, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and he stared at her as her hips bucked wildly until he couldn’t take it anymore, leaning down for another eager kiss.

it felt like eons before he pulled away, but that was how kissing cadence always felt. it was the world’s greatest way to lose track of time.

her gaze was dreamy and unfocused when she finally let her eyelids open to smile at him. his heart thrummed with something new, his fast pulse veering off course momentarily as he smiled helplessly back. “mmmm,” she groaned, barely twitching when he pulled his hand from between her legs. “has anyone ever told you that you are really -- i mean stupidly -- attractive?”

“not in so many words.” the stroke to his ego was the last thing he needed. if she kept that little act up, he was going to embarrass himself. in the next instant, her hand lifted to dip between the waistband of his swim trunks. maybe she could read him better than he thought. “cadence...”

her hand wrapped around his cock without preamble. raleigh’s hips jerked forward, his hands planted on either side of her body on the floor.

“should we move to a different part of the boat? you know, in the interest of... using our time efficiently.” he didn’t need to look at her to know that she was grinning, but he did anyway, lifting his head to bring his face close to hers.

“someone’s feeling bold after their orgasm,” he murmured, his breathing labored. a quick kiss helped him gather himself, and then he shot her a smile of his own. “maybe you’re right.”

it took everything he had in him to stand, holding out his hand to pull cadence to her feet, too. she looked suddenly shy as she reached her full height, glancing around nervously like they weren’t out in the middle of the ocean without anyone around for miles. his lips twitched as he pulled her in towards his chest for another kiss.

that loosened her up immensely, and she didn’t protest as he led her over to the railing at the side of the boat, stepping out of his own swimsuit as they went. he was breathless when he finally forced himself to stop kissing her. “do you have any idea how gorgeous you look?”

her smile was sunny as she leaned back against the railing. “i mean, i have some idea. you’ve only told me about... fifty thousand times.”

he leaned in to press one last gentle kiss to her lips before gently guiding her around with a hand on her hip. “let’s just say there’ll eventually be a song about today.”

she shimmied her hips playfully, and he laughed as he stepped up behind her, leaning in to press kisses along the side of her throat. “i like the sound of that.”

his hand laid over hers where she was holding onto the railing of the boat, white-knuckled. raleigh squeezed her fingers affectionately, his other hand lining himself up between her legs. a low groan ruffled her hair as he started to push inside of her, and he cursed before bowing his head to press his forehead against her shoulder. “christ, cadence.”

she pressed back against him, echoing his moan. she almost threatened the volume of the music still playing in the background and he shivered against her, biting down lightly on her shoulder as he eased himself the rest of the way inside her.

“raleigh,” she breathed, more beautifully than poetry. his hips snapped forward despite his best efforts to move slowly for her, all thoughts of giving her time to adjust slipping from his mind. all he could focus on was her, and the melodic little gasps of yes -- yes -- yes she couldn’t stop herself from emitting.

“oh, god.” she was so tight around him it was maddening, hot and wet and squeezing him on every thrust in a life-ruining sort of way. nothing would ever top this -- she was unbelievable, incredible, indescribable. the way she felt was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced, and he’d had a hell of a career before she’d tornadoed into his life. “you’re amazing.”

it wasn’t just that she let him fuck her, or that she took his cock so perfectly. it was so much more than just sex, it was -- she was everything. she was motivation to go to these stupid parties and leave early, she was the only person he could dream of escaping with and she was the one reason he bothered being social, so that he could make her smile when he suggested taking her out and showing her off.

for some reason, she stuck with him. just about everyone she knew and probably a majority of the people that didn’t know either of them but thought they did figured she could do better -- him included. but she didn’t want better, and he was constantly baffled and awed by that. she wanted him. raleigh carrera. she wanted this.

he knew he couldn’t possibly be lucky enough to expect a lifetime of summers like these. one day, she’d come to her senses and drop him, and then he’d be stuck with the herculean task of trying to get over her -- to forget she ever existed, if that was even possible.

but for now -- she showed no signs of wanting to kick him to the curb, and so he wrapped his arm around her body from behind, holding onto her tightly as he increased his speed, determined to make her feel as mind-meltingly good as he did. from the sound of her moans he was succeeding, and he groaned into her ear as he frantically pressed kisses over any piece of her skin he could reach.

“please,” she begged, somehow knowing exactly what he wanted to hear without him having to ask for it, “please, raleigh, i want -- i need you to touch me, please. raleigh, please.”

“fuck.” he wanted to shush her, to reassure her -- to tease her for being so needy, but it was impossible. all he could do was slide his hand down the front of her body, his fingers pressing between her legs again to seek out the spot he knew she wanted him most. “like that?” he demanded, his voice a low growl, “is that what you like?”

“yes!” her answer rang out, high-pitched and desperate, and his hips snapped forward harder as he felt her start to tighten around him. “i love that, i love --”

his brain short-circuited as he came, swearing into her skin, hardly able to stop himself from biting down on her shoulder again. she jerked into his hand and followed him over the edge, shaking apart against him as their moans echoed together in time.

raleigh only realized how tightly he was squeezing her once he finally felt like he could breathe again, and he released her slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her neck. he took a step back, rubbing a hand over his face. “shit.”

cadence turned around on unsteady legs, still holding onto the railing behind her for support. “oh my god.”

he reached for his swim trunks, moving slowly around the boat to gather the tiny pieces of her bikini. tossing each garment at her, he watched as she redressed and then grinned when she pulled him closer and into a kiss, his sigh full of pure content when his lips met hers.

he could have spent the rest of their weekend in the hamptons right there, kissing her without moving, if she hadn’t started to laugh.

it was just a giggle at first, that bubbled up within her and slipped into his mouth, and he smiled against her lips as he angled his head to kiss her more deeply. his hands anchored on her waist and tugged her in closer, but then one giggle became two and after a moment she was full-on laughing at him, leaving him looking at her curiously.

“i’m sorry,” she gasped, her shoulders shaking as she lifted her hands to her face. “it’s just that -- five years ago in college i lost my virginity to this guy named kevin in my dorm room and it was so awkward and terrible and now i’m getting fucked on a yacht by raleigh carrera and it’s amazing and it’s like -- the weirdest and most awesome thing that ever happened to me? ever? do you know what i mean?”

as she’d been talking, his grin had been widening, and he found himself full-on beaming at her by the time she finished. she was something else, that was for sure. “i think so,” he laughed, his gaze warm and fond when it locked onto hers. “because you’re the weirdest and most awesome thing that ever happened to me, too. and i didn’t even have to sleep with anyone named kevin.”

that set her off again, and she fell into his chest laughing, his arms coming up to wrap around her. sure, he would go on tour in the fall, and that meant that they’d spend a lot less time together, and maybe this summer was the only summer he’d be lucky enough to call her his, and maybe next year he’d be back at this same party brooding instead of laughing, but...

he caught sight of the look in her eyes and felt unidentified warmth spread through his chest. maybe he wouldn’t be.

besides, anything that happened next was worth it if he got to see her smile at him like that even one more time. he lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. his heartbeat felt so loud he was surprised she hadn’t commented on it, but maybe she was just being nice.

she was the one to look away first, glancing over her shoulder out at the ocean and the sun, which was getting dangerously low in the sky. she said what they were both thinking: “we should get back to the beach.”

he nodded, but that look was back in her eyes again. raleigh held her gaze and then grinned, laughing as he used the arms around her waist to lift her, spinning her around and chasing her up to the top deck again.

she was quicker than he wanted her to be, diving for the half-full bottle of champagne and shaking it up again, jumping up and down on the bench as she sprayed him down.

oh god, was he in love. one hand pushed his damp hair back, and then he dove for her, tackling her down onto the bench. “the party,” she gasped, her words protesting even as her hands pulled him closer.

“don’t care,” he bit out, pressing sticky kisses down her stomach, “let the coast guard find us. i’m not ready to share you just yet.”

#raleigh carrera #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #platinum #choices platinum #myfic #can you tell that i just finished platinum and loved it so much lmao #and that it was what finally pushed me over the edge to make this blog #god we stan 1 man so unbelievably hard #hope you like this !!#and that it shows up in the tags !!#raleigh carrera x mc

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Note

Hello! For my final one-shot prize, may I have Sting x Yukino with the prompt "White"?

Thanks for your patience! Here you are~

Magnolia

Yukino’s toffee-colored eyes were scrunched up in nervous panic as she slowly poked her head into the threshold of the door to peer into the bustling party within. Lucy had been kind enough to invite her to the celebration of her publishing deal, and of course Yukino had elected to attend the fellow Celestial Spirit mage’s honoring of her momentous achievement. However, though she felt very comfortable around Lucy and her inner circle of friends- comfortable enough to have paid many visits to her apartment in the last several months- she was suddenly feeling a little out of place surrounded almost entirely by Fairy Tail mages. She wished she had at least brought along a plus one; Lucy wouldn’t have minded in the slightest.

Sting would have come with me… she thought with a blush creeping onto her cheeks. There was nothing for it now, however; she was all trussed up and at the venue, so she might as well give Lucy her congratulations. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and straightened up, making sure the flowy skirt of her long white dress contained no creases before confidently striding into the large hall.

A few of the mages gave her passing glances, and a few of the friendlier ones jovial waves and cheerful greetings, but for the most part Yukino was unnoticed as she proceeded into the crowd. She found the pretty blonde by the refreshments table chatting animatedly with a short, petite blue-haired girl Yukino dimly remembered as Levy. Yukino approached cautiously, not wishing to interrupt an obviously animated conversation, but the other girl noticed her incoming and pointed it out to Lucy. Yukino’s cheeks reddened a little as Lucy spun on her heel with an excited squeal and dashed right up to throw her arms around Yukino in a firm hug.

“Yukino! I’m glad you could make it!” Following the initial shock of the sudden embrace, Yukino relaxed and returned the sentiment.

“Of course. Congratulations on your publishing deal. I know you’ve worked very hard!” she said while patting the top of her head affectionally. Lucy pulled back to give her a beaming smile that scrunched her eyes up into little crescent moons. Yukino always had marveled at how the girl could smile with her entire being. Lucy’s face then took on a playful and almost mischievous grin.

“So? Where’s Sting?” Yukino released a very unflattering choking sound at the very brazen inquiry and the even more brazen implications. Despite herself, Yukino maniacally glanced around the nearby crowd to see if she could catch a glimpse of him; when she could not, she began to suspect that Lucy was cruelly joshing her and gave her a dour pout. “Don’t look at me like that! He’s really here; Rogue, too! Natsu invited them, supposedly.” Yukino knitted her eyebrows together critically. If he was invited, why didn’t he tell me? Sting had been nonchalant about approving her venture to Magnolia for the party and had made no mention that he would be attending. Surely they would have traveled together if that had been the case! What motive would he have had for not telling her? Lucy looked just as puzzled as she. “Wait… Did you guys not come together?”

“Ahhh, damn it. Now this is awkward,” Yukino heard a groan from behind her. Cheeks pink, she whirled around to see Sting meekly rubbing his neck with a discomfited smile. “I was gonna surprise you, Yukino…” Lucy squeaked and put her hands over her mouth in mortified guilt.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” Her apology was muffled by her interlaced fingers. Sting gave her that cocky smirk that made Yukino’s heart melt every time it graced his fine features and waved dismissively before sliding his hands into his pants pockets.

“Don’t worry about it.” Yukino compulsively straightened her back as his glittering gaze landed on her. He looked exceptionally handsome, dressed in a pair of black slacks, a matching black vest with silver adornments, and a white dress shirt underneath. As dapper as he was, he was still Sting; the man despised sleeves and so they were rolled up above his elbows, buttoned to hold them in place. Yukino was stupidly aware of how his biceps bulged underneath the taut fabric, and really couldn’t help but gawk for a few precious seconds. It was only a few seconds, but apparently long enough; when she finally willed herself to tear her gaze away from the rugged muscles and give him the proper courtesy of speaking to his face instead of his arms, he was smirking perceptively. She gulped loudly and felt the smoldering heat rising to her cheeks. Shit… “I’m here now, so that’s what matters.” Yukino knew he was talking to Lucy, but his eyes remained fixed on her, very much implying that the words were for her alone.

“Right! Thank you so much for coming. Enjoy yourselves; I’d better go make sure Natsu isn’t getting himself into trouble…” Though incorrigibly rude, Yukino couldn’t bring herself to look at Lucy as the girl dashed off into the crowd. She was still owlishly staring at Sting, who was still wearing that smirk like it was all he needed for currency. She couldn’t stop the jolt that jerked her body as he abruptly stepped toward her. Her heart had begun to hammer in her chest so hard that she just knew he could hear it. He could see and hear and know the things he was doing to her, simply by appearing before her like a cunning demon who could lay claims to her soul… If he’d only asked her for it.

Yukino didn’t know how long she’d been in love with Sting. It had just gradually grown over time, a seedling budding in the recesses of her mind until its flower bloomed with radiant brilliance to make itself known. It was a rose, devastatingly beautiful but rich with thorns of longing and pain; she treasured it immensely, watered it with her hopes, but found herself constantly pricked by its barbs of possible rejection. She dare not bring it forth and bare it to him, so there it subsisted in the greenhouse of her heart, shielded by blacked-out windows waiting for its chance to see true daylight one day.

“Yukino, you’re so spacey.” Yukino’s face blazed pink when she realized he was standing right in front of her and knocking on her forehead to bring her out of her thoughts.

“O-oh… Sorry…” she meekly answered while rubbing the small pink mark he had pushed into her forehead. He grinned radiantly and dropped his hand, pleased that he finally had her attention. She blushed darker when she looked at the collar of his dress shirt. “You, um… You look really good in white.”

“You think so? That’s good. I wore it for you.” Yukino squeaked as her heart rate rocketed into critical levels. She glanced up, thinking that surely he was messing with her, but the expression on his face was terrifyingly calm. “It’s your favorite color. I knew you were going to wear white, too.” Her teeth worried her bottom lip to channel her screaming anxiety when he reached up with light fingers to play with the satin straps of her sleeveless dress, which were looped loosely around her neck. As he played with the silky fabric, his fingers occasionally brushed against her collarbone and the surrounding area, sending electricity spiderwebbing through her nerves. “You look beautiful, Yukino.”

His husky whisper and the way he closed the miniscule distance between them to very purposefully bump his chest into hers sent her heart rate blasting into orbit. Her eyes were blown so wide the muscles surrounding them strained but she couldn’t help it; there was something so captivating and dangerous about him and what was happening right now. She simultaneously felt like a princess under his reverence and a captive under his control. Surely… Surely now is the time, she thought distantly.

She reached for the flower, marveling at how its petals had increased in sheen in the last few minutes, but the thorns sank deep into her palm.

“You shouldn’t tease, Sting,” she grumbled and pushed into his chest with the flats of her hands. The smirk finally fell from his lips, replaced by a befuddled frown. Sting was naturally flirtatious. She was no one special and believing anything but would only set her up for bitter disappointment. “I’m going to say hello to Rogue,” she huffed, trying to mask the hurt in her voice and turning her face as the tears stung her eyes. She quickly gathered her skirts and went to turn on her heel, but he caught her wrist in a tight grip- desperate but not painful. Sting immediately realized what he had done and hurriedly retracted, loosening his grip to slide his hand up to her elbow and pull on it invitingly. Eyebrows cinched in confusion and worry, he gestured with a jerk of his head to the side of the venue, behind a row of columns and curtains that would provide an ample amount of privacy.

Yukino felt bile bubbling up in her throat as her anxiety mounted; the wounds from the thorns still leaked red blood and she did not know if she had the courage to reach again. Her legs tensed, ready to bolt once more, but then he gave her the most sad, pleading look.

“Yukino… Please.”

She did not resist him as he tugged on her elbow more insistently, guiding her body. Her heels clacked unsteadily against the tile floor as her feet moved on instinct, traveling in the direction he willed her. Gently, keeping his troubled gaze on her all the while, he escorted her to the side of the spacious room. They tucked themselves away in the shady alcove, hidden. She was beginning to score the skin of her bottom lip with how much she was tearing into it; she watched him nervously as he checked to ensure no one would come after them before looking at her with incredulous hurt. “Yukino, I… What do you think this is?”

The poignant question threw her for a loop. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to come out of his mouth, but it wasn’t that. She opened and shut her mouth a few times, struggling to form words, before finally squeaking them out.

“I-I don’t know, Sting. I don’t know.” It was a pathetic answer perfectly suited to her pathetic self. Mortified, she hung her head to spare herself his likely scathing reaction. She had tried not to cry, because she would look frightful from her mascara running, but the black-dyed tears began rolling down her cheeks all the same. “I’m frightened of what it could be.” Her body tensed instinctively at the sound of his dress shoes striking the tile floor, and through her tear-laden lashes, she could see their shiny surfaces appear at the edge of her vision. It was disgusting, really. She was normally so confident and sure; however, she was everything but when it came to Sting. She never knew what to do, or what to say, because she was scared- scared, that it was all in her head and she would make a fool of herself.

Yukino had been humiliated once. It was the most awful experience, the lowest she had ever been wrought. She could never, ever feel such shame again. “I’m afraid you’ll make fun of me…” she admitted through a heaving sob and put her face into her hands. She knew she would smudge the black tears into her foundation, but it was better than them staining her pristine white dress. White, her favorite color. White, which he wore for her. The thought made sour acid spread over her tongue.

“Yukino…” His voice was so soft, so welcoming. She didn’t tense this time when his hands gently enveloped her wrists to pull them away from her face. He pulled them down to rest on his forearms before cupping her face on either side, catching her cascading tears with his thumbs. “I promised you that I would never let you be humiliated and laughed at again. Do you really think that I would ever make fun of you?” Yukino sniffed miserably in response. Of course he wouldn’t. It was stupid of her to think that he would; after all, it was Sting. Sweet, kind, supportive Sting. Timidly, she raised her face a little to look at him.

His sweet smile took her breath away. She had never seen him look so gentle and tender. His blonde hair bounced a little as he tilted his head and continued to stroke her cheeks with feather-light touches. “Let me tell you what this is, Yukino,” he purred, and the sound rumbled through her entire body, quieting every screaming nerve to awash her with tranquil calm and trust. Trust in his words, in that smile that was undoubtedly full of love. “I’m so in love with you that it’s stupid. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. I could try to compare you to the most beautiful things- angels, goddesses, queens- and they all fall drastically short of you. I should’ve said something sooner, but the truth is I felt so unworthy of you that the words never could come. Then tonight, you walk in here in that dress looking like the moon herself and I finally had the guts to tell you the truth. And now look…” She hiccupped pitifully as he brought his face closer, lips twisted into a miserable smile, “I’ve gone and made such a pretty girl cry. I really am hopeless.” Yukino couldn’t help but tearfully giggle at his self-deprecating romances.

“Don’t apologize… I shouldn’t have freaked out,” she sighed contritely. Really, she ought to be a blushing, stuttering mess at his entire confession, but she was oddly calm. Still trapped in that blanket of tranquility Sting had wrapped over her, warm and safe and at peace. It felt like she was bathed in sunshine and no shadow in the world could creep close. She licked her lips anxiously, then added in a meek voice, “I-I love you too, you know. Very, very much.”

“That’s good, else this would’ve been the most embarrassing day of my life.” They both laughed in ugly snorts and her head bumped against his as she looked down, shoulders shaking with barely-constrained giggles. Happy tears threatened to leak over the dam of her eyes, so she hurriedly pushed the base of her palms into them.

“I probably look like a frightful hag,” she laughed derisively, feeling more mascara smudge underneath her eyes.

“Nah. Still beautiful to me.” Yukino dropped her hands to give him a questioning smile, and he took advantage of the momentary drop of her guard. He swooped forward to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, and her falling arms settled around his neck as if they belonged there. She pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes as he tugged her against him by the waist, angling his head to kiss her with a ravenous hunger. Her fingers toyed with the ends of his spiky blonde hair, while his found purchase in the sweeping folds of her dress, digging into the fabric in an effort to bring every inch of her into contact as possible. Yukino felt like she was blossoming under his fiery touch, like a flower that had long since closed its petals to the darkness finally being graced with invigorating light. She was her flower of love incarnate, finally brought forth into the world by his words shattering the glass cage.

They kissed there for several minutes, in the secluded corner of the venue, before braking apart with flushed faces and ragged pants. Yukino laughed at the smears of pink lipstick across his face, and she had no doubt her make-up was effectively ruined now. Still, he was looking at her like she was the most radiant creature on Earth.

“A magnolia,” he said abruptly. She narrowed her eyebrows curiously, wondering if she had kissed his mad. He laughed at her incredulous look and pulled her close by the waist again, tucking a swathe of her light blue-white hair behind her ear. “That’s what you remind me of. The most beautiful magnolia.” Touched but also embarrassed, she snorted again and tucked her face into the side of his neck to hide her burning blush.

“You’re too good at the flirting thing…”

“I did a lot of practicing. Lector plays a very good Yukino; he blushes almost as much as you.” She didn’t know if he was serious but the thought of him flirting shamelessly with his Exceed partner made her begin to giggle hysterically. He enveloped her in his thick arms to give her an affectionate and crushing hug, all while nuzzling his chin along the side of her head. “He’s more of a dandelion weed than a magnolia, though.”

“How cruel! He’s way cuter than a dandelion weed!” she laughed while lifting her head. Seeing her happy smile made him grin, and he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “… Thanks, Sting.”

“No need to thank me, darling.” The pet name sent all the blood rushing right back to her face. Sting grinned devilishly, an obvious sign that he had meant to embarrass her. With a squeal, she buried her face back into the shielding embrace of his neck. His body shook violently with his raucous laughter. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing! Come on, don’t hide, lemme see.” She squeaked protests and squished her face further into him, stubbornly to the point that it was hard to breathe through her nose. “All right, all right, I relent; please, Yukino, come on.” With a click of her tongue, she obediently retracted and looked up at him with a childish pout. True to his word, he no longer teased her, but offered the handkerchief tucked into the pocket of his face for her to wipe the make-up from her face. She took it gratefully and did her best to remove the ruined cosmetics, using her distorted reflection in the white tile as a mirror. “Whelp, Lucy’s calling for you,” he remarked as he peeked out from behind the curtain.

Yukino hastily removed the last streaks of the make-up from her face before straightening up and adjusting her disheveled dress. Before she could instruct Sting to stay a while to keep people from talking, he grabbed her hand and yanked her out from behind the alcove. A few people definitely glanced at them and grinned, which made Yukino’s face blaze the color of a rose.

“Sting! What are you doing?! People will talk!”

“Let them!” he grinned jovially and settled in beside her, lacing their hands and giving her that smirk, that one that was all he needed to get by. “Let them talk. I want the whole world to see just how much I adore my pretty magnolia.” Yukino flushed and cringed into herself at how stupidly sweet yet excruciatingly embarrassing the sentiment was. Sting called out to Lucy as she strode by in a tizzy; the blonde whirled around, about to say something, but froze when she saw the two holding hands. She then grinned knowingly and wiggled her eyebrows at Sting, pointing at his mouth. Yukino gasped and wiped at the smears of her lipstick still on his face, which she had neglected to remove, while Sting squirmed and protested at the harsh scrapes of her palm. She finished just as Lucy began to sidle up to them mischievously, and Yukino could only sigh and look at the grinning Sting.

If I’m a magnolia… Then you’re definitely the sun that makes me bloom.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @searchfortheonepiece

#stingyu #stukino #sting x yukino #stingxyukino #yukino x sting #yukinoxsting #yukino agria #yukino aguria #sting eucliffe #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail fanfic #ft fanfiction #ft fanfic

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ashesonthefloor · 4 years

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A/N: gotta keep w my aesthetic here. but here is a ridiculously short but fluffy little Drabble based off of this thing that @calumcest wrote. ily Helen. there are only four pickup lines but I had to keep to the THEME of what I wrote, hope y’all enjoy. this is dedicated to the truly inspired anon who sent that ask to Helen I love u and only you xx (and Helen for writing it obv) also please pardon any mistakes, I wrote this at one am but I think it’s cute <3

word count: 1075

It hadn’t stopped since they’d started dating. Or slowed down at all. Ashton still used (horrible, disgusting, cheesy, by Michael’s definition) pickup lines. And they still worked a little bit too well on Luke.

“Hey,” Ashton says, as he double checked his outfit for their date night, making Luke look over at him.

“Yeah, babe?” His brows draw together, slightly confused.

“Come feel my shirt. I can’t figure out what it’s made of.”

Luke frowns and makes his way over to him, reaching a hand out to rub Ashton’s offered arm. He was never going to turn down an excuse to touch Ashton’s biceps. Or just Ashton in general. “Uh...I don’t know. Cotton?”

Ashton grins, Luke just a few beats behind, as he says, “Nope. Boyfriend material.”

And, even after a year of cheesy pickup lines, Luke’s face flames. “Goddamn it, Ashton,” he manages to get out, though his tone is fond and his face is red. Ashton knows he enjoys the teasing too much.

The restaurant they’d chosen for date night was a little more upscale than Luke normally would’ve gone for. But it was Ashton’s turn to pick and he’d insisted on wanting to treat him, so he’d allowed it. It was close to their one year anniversary, anyway, they might as well splurge.

Ashton leads him over to their table, hand on his lower back - he was always so affectionate - and they almost immediately sink into easy conversation. Even after a year, it was still easy, and Ashton was as interested in him and his life as he had been at the start.

They only get twenty minutes in when Ashton frowns, rubbing at his eye. “Babe?” Luke says, concerned.

“I think there’s something wrong with my eyes.”

“Come here, let me see if they’re swollen.” That wasn’t good at all. He shifts forward to take Ashton’s hand and move it so he could look at his eyes, make sure they were alright.

Ashton grins up at him. “Because I haven’t been able to take them off you all night.”

Luke’s face flames immediately, the way it always does when Ashton complimented him. “I was worried about you, asshole,” he tries to chastise, but his red face and slightly too fond tone make it ineffective. Just like back at the flat. Just like every time this happened, really.

Ashton’s dopey grin doesn’t fall off his face as he goes back to perusing the menu and asking Luke what he thinks of having a bottle of champagne. (Which Luke objects to, saying it wasn’t a special occasion, to which Ashton just replies that “every moment spent with you is special”, which effectively flusters Luke and renders him unable to speak, giving Ashton enough time to actually order a bottle of champagne.)

They’re only halfway through the meal the next time it happens. Luke sneezes and Ashton passes him a tissue. “I’d say God Bless you,” he says, making Luke glance up as he blows his nose, “but it looks like he already did.” And, as predictably as ever, Luke turns bright red and busies himself with taking another bite of his food.

(“You aren’t even religious!” Luke argues, making Ashton shrug. His only reply is “doesn’t mean it isn’t a good line, though.”)

They make it all the way to dessert before another pickup line, which Luke is thankful for, given that he doesn’t want all of the blood in his body to stay in his face. He needs it for circulation, thank you very much.

“The chocolate cake looks pretty good,” Luke muses. “But why do they always have to have such weird names? ‘Molten chocolate lava volcano cake’ doesn’t have much of a ring to it.”

“No, it doesn’t. It does sound good, though.” And there’s that grin Luke has associated with- “But I’d rather eat you instead.”

And, just as it always did, Luke flushes red. “Ashton!” He tries to chastise, though he fails in the face of his own enjoyment at being praised and hit on. Even a year in, Ashton enjoys hitting on him and making him flustered. It was pretty cute, actually.

Ashton just grins and looks back at the dessert menu. “So, chocolate cake, then?” He continues, like he never hit on Luke or made him turn bright red for the, like, fourth time in the stupid fancy upscale restaurant.

“Yeah,” Luke says, accepting his face as Luke ‘forever flustered by Ashton’ Hemmings. “It sounds really good.”

Almost as soon as Luke finishes his dessert, Ashton clears his throat. He looks up at him, confused, licking at the chocolate at the corner of his lips. Ashton’s gaze is focused on where he’s absently swirling what’s left of the champagne in his glass. “I love you with everything I have,” he says, intense gaze focusing on Luke. “But there’s one thing I’d change.”

Luke frowns, somewhere between hurt, insulted, and confused. He feels like he’s about to get dumped. “Ash, what-“ But his question is cut off as the other man slides out of his seat onto the floor. On one knee on the floor, actually. And he somehow managed to pull the ring box out of his stupidly tight pants in the same movement and Luke’s going to have a heart attack. He can’t breathe anymore.

“Your last name,” he registers Ashton saying through the sound of his own heart beat in his ears. “So, Luke Hemmings. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me? Become my Luke Irwin?”

The words are barely out of Ashton’s mouth before he’s answering. And if there are tears in his eyes, sue him, he’s always been emotional and he’s stupidly endearing boyfriend is proposing to him with another stupidly endearing pickup line and he’s feeling a lot of things, okay. “Fuck yes. Of course.”

And as soon as he says it, Ashton’s grinning that grin he reserved for when he tells a dumb line and it makes Luke all flustered, and he’s sliding the ring on his finger and pulling him into a hug. And he doesn’t even say anything when Luke sniffles and gets a little bit of snot and his tears on the shoulder of his expensive shirt. “How long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Since a month after I met you,” Ashton answers, answer altogether sheepish and adorable and the entire reason Luke can’t wait to be Luke Irwin.

#lashton #lashton fanfiction #luke hemmings #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin #this was written entirelt in tumblr drafts :)#ure welcome :)#drabbles #lashton drabbles #my writing

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littlesmartart · 5 years

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I smiled. I kissed him suddenly, thrilled by the warmth of him, the soft pliant feel of his near human skin. God, how I hated the whiteness of my fingers touching him, fingers that could have crushed him now effortlessly. I wondered if he even guessed. There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn’t find the words really, or a way to begin... Stupidly, I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it. “Do you love me now?” I asked. He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said.

@the-disgruntled-vc mentioned here that this scene from QOTD would work well visually and I very much agree! it’s a very soft and romantic (and Romantic - they are smooching next to louis’ grave after leaving the burnt-out mess of their old flat and the ghost of their murdered daughter...) moment, and if you steadfastly give the book’s final scene the middle finger like I do, their trip to new orleans beautifully closes their relationship arc with them both letting go of their toxic mess of a marriage and starting a new beginning as better people, as they literally fly off into the sunset night...

you can find the background separately here. rambly wall-of-text thoughts I had whilst drawing under the cut.

I wanted to make the kiss look heartfelt but a little awkward, because lestat does just grab and snog him out of nowhere. and also this is just after when, with zero prompting, he blurts out that he and akasha were lovers - which to me feels very much like a “test” brought up by his anxiety? he compares them to human lovers, but they’re not human; the vampire way of sex is sharing blood, and taking akasha’s blood is what has made him all white and marble-y and ALSO given him huge dysphoria, thus his phrasing makes me believe this is not only a test of “is louis mad that I not-really-consensually sort-of cheated on him?” but also “I need you to acknowledge that I’m Different now because I’m terrified you’ll be as disgusted by it as I am”. so, whilst some of it is between the lines (because lestat), this whole scene is rife with lestat’s anxiety, and that combined with him “stupidly” staring at louis, utterly tongue-tied, felt sort of... endearingly awkward?

louis has a little smile and raised eyebrows and is kind of frozen; lestat doesn’t clock much of his reaction besides him smiling and being kind and patient (oh my heart, in TVL and QOTD everything lestat says about louis is just FULL TO BURSTING WITH ADORATION? I die?), so I imagine he’s both taken aback but delighted, because, dear god, can you imagine where louis’ head is at by this point? he finally gets his boy back, big hearteyes reunion, definitely a pre-concert quickie, then SPONTANEOUS VAMPIRE COMBUSTION! high-adrenaline car chase! mum-in-law turns up and she’s awesome!, they all go to bed and it’s good, they’re safe now, time for the happy ending - then holy fucking shit lestat is kidnapped, oh god, the world is ending, they’re all gonna dIE, and then aKASHA GETS DECAPITATED??? everything is... okay? except lestat won’t talk to anyone, he’s just holed up writing his book and completely ignoring louis and maybe everything is ruined again, maybe that chance of getting back together has been totally lost... and also maybe claudia is a ghost, so louis checks that shit out and... and suddenly lestat is there and being soft and affectionate? wants to be around him, wants to walk and talk together? honestly, if louis had just burst into tears right at this bit I wouldn’t have blamed him one fucking bit. what a rollercoaster he’s been on. someone give him a hug.

tldr; fuck you AR for not ending this series with them being reconciled and flying off together because they both deserve a happy fucking ending after all their combined trauma bYE

#loustat #Louis de Pointe du Lac #Lestat De Lioncourt #vampire chronicles #queen of the damned

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years

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honeyed tea | q.b.

Summary: So your best friend get’s fired and you’re left to find out if he’s still alive. So what if you kinda have feelings for him you’ve repressed since the Dark Ages? All you want is a good cup of tea and your best friend back. You end up getting both.

WARNINGS: FFH SPOILERS also Quentin is a dramatic bitch!!! CUTE AS HELL!!! Fluff!! Mentions of smut but it’s small. Swearing ‘cause I have a fat potty mouth but it’s still real cute!!! Pairing: pre-FFH!Quentin x gender neutral!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Something cute for those who still miss him (me)

For fuck’s sake, you don’t understand what Quentin’s problem is with you. First he’s been ignoring you, next he doesn’t show up to work. You’re supposed to be his best friend for crying out loud, and although you know that Tony taking Quentin’s project right out of his hands and slapping his name on it has got to sting, you thought he’d at least call.

“Quentin, it’s me again. Where the hell are you? Ugh, look, it doesn’t matter. Can you at least call me back?” Hanging up, you put your phone back down on the desk before opening your emails. You need to catch up on some work, even if the other half of your team is gone.

Throwing a longing glance at Quentin’s empty office, you shrug off the feeling that spoils your stomach like sour milk and focus on your computer screen. Fingers dancing over the keyboard, you log in and hit Send/Receive, watching as the inbox refreshes.

Nothing important pops up. New project pitches, rescheduling of meeting, oh, and an email that’s highlighted as important. Meaning it has to be from one of two people on the list. Tony Stark or Pepper Potts.

Opening up the email, you spot Ms. Potts’ email address and continue to read.

The sour milk in your stomach curdles, and suddenly it makes all too much sense on why Quentin hasn’t been coming to work. It’s because he can’t.

You knock on Quentin’s door, rubbing your palms together with a chocolate box pinched underneath your arm. You can hear shuffling on the other end so you know he’s at home and you sigh impatiently, knocking again.

“Quentin, open up! I know you’re in there.” No answer. Knocking more insistently, you rap your knuckles hard against wood. “Look! I know why you haven’t been answering my calls, even though we’re supposed to be best friends, and I quit. I quit my job so can you please open up so we can talk?”

Immediately, you get the response you’re looking for. The door swings open to reveal your beautiful best friend, the one and only Quentin Beck. More affectionately known as idiot, genius, honey, among other things. Currently, he looks like none of those, and mostly looks like utter garbage. His eyes are shadowed by dark half moons and his skin has lost its colour. His blue gaze normally alight with intelligence is muted, a fire gone out too soon.

“Hey, Quen.”

“Do not tell me you did what I think you did,” he whispers and you smile slyly. He takes your silence as your answer and his eyes widen substantially. “What were you thinking?” He takes you by the arms, not enough to hurt but enough to make you look at him and you glare back, unable to reply. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” you snap, breaking his grip on you easily. “You’re the one who got fired, and didn’t bother to call me. You’re the one who just ghosted his best friend!” You regret your harsh tone as soon as you say it because his expression falls. He looks so pitiful and hurt that your heart splits for him.

“That was your dream job,” he whispers and you hold up the box of chocolates you’d bought for him. You know chocolate is the way to this man’s heart, even though you already have a free pass to that zone, and he takes the box with wide eyes.

A soft smile finds itself on your lips as your eyebrows knit together. Something hollow sits in your chest. “It was yours, too.”

It’s quiet as Quentin’s face nearly shatters but then he finds himself last minute, putting on some mask you wish he didn’t have. “You can’t be serious.”

“We come as a set, Quen. You think I’m gonna stand by and let Tony Stark steal your life’s work and then fire you?” You brush past him and shed your jacket, glancing around his apartment. His jaw is unhinged as he closes the door and you give him a fond smile. “Cat gotcha tongue?”

“You love working there. Stark was gonna give you a promotion and everything,” he says but you shrug and head to the kitchen, opening the fridge to find nothing but kombucha and half a loaf of bread.

“You seriously need to get this stocked, Quen. I’m only gonna be on this Earth for so long, and you can’t depend on your best friend for life.” You ignore his heated stare as he throws your chocolate on the kitchen island and leans against the marble, trying to comprehend your life choices.

“How could you just throw away your life like that?”

You turn on his electric kettle and pull the cabinet open to grab a mug. You could really go for a cup of tea.

“Are you even listening to me, honey?”

“I’m letting you have a moment,” you reply flatly, sending him a glance. “You need to get it out of your system.” Pulling out some chamomile tea you brought the last time you came over, you look for the honey you know he has somewhere. You love sweetening your tea with honey rather than sugar, which in part has lead to the ‘honey’ pet name the two of you have conjured up. The other part that contributes to it is the fact that Quentin finds you the sweetest person on Earth and likes to remind you often.

Finding it in its usual place, you set it on the countertop and wait for the water to boil, drumming your fingers against the smooth surface with a hum. Quentin’s still simmering but you’ve learnt to let him go through it over the years.

“Look, you’re gonna go back to Stark’s, and tell him it was a joke.”

“Quen,” you sigh, turning your head to see him storming around the island. He towers over you but you don’t care. He’s not frightening in the least.

“You can’t seriously just let him take your life’s work, too.”

“Quen.”

“I mean, we can’t let Tony Stark just trample all over us—“

“Oh, my god. You’re such a theatrical bitch,” you mumble under your breath as the electrical kettle clicks. You grab the boiling water and pour yourself a full cup before pasting on a sunshine smile for Quentin. “You want any tea?”

He falls quiet.

He knows what the offering of tea means. It means ceasefire. No more arguing until the tea’s finished. Rule established after he realized your obsession with tea in senior year of highschool. A reminder that your friendship is more important than winning any argument. Also, an added bonus that it calms down fraught nerves.

His blue, blue eyes meet yours and his shoulders sink in defeat as you grab him a cup. Once you’ve steeped the tea leaves, you turn to him with puppy eyes. He sighs helplessly and grabs his cup, sipping it softly as you add honey to your own mug. Bringing the cup to your lips, you watch as Quentin retreats to the living space where he sits down on the couch and you realize how beaten up he is over this. He looks disastrous. There’s takeout boxes everywhere, and he’s still wearing days old clothes.

It’s kinda pathetic.

But also entirely dramatic, so you sit down beside your best friend, and make him look at you.

“Quen,” you begin, setting your mug on the glass coffee table. “You’re an idiot.” Your fingers tuck a tiny curl of hair away from his eyes and you trail your hand behind his ear, cupping his jaw. “You’re a genius, but an idiot. A helpless, dramatic, asinine, brilliant genius.”

“Please stop insulting me and complimenting me at the same time. You know it confuses me,” he mumbles and you kiss his temple. “He stole everything and called it his own. I poured everything into that project. Everything. God, I’m going to kill him. I swear, I’m going to kill Stark if it’s the last thing I do.”

And at last, he begins to crumble in your hands. Bringing Quentin towards your body, you hold him to your chest as he curls up on himself. He runs ragged hands through his hair and you listen to his pointless rants, cheek pressed into his hair that smells like faded Dove gel and Old Spice, cedarwood and something they probably labelled as ‘Grizzly Bear Sweat’. Something stupidly masculine.

“I’m sorry, Quen,” you whisper and he looks up at you, torturously, with the blue blown out of his wide eyes. There’s only something dark, something sinister, and you run your knuckles down his face with a tight-lipped smile. “Tony is using it for good, though. You can be sure of it.”

“Good? Good? Who’s side are you on?”

“Quen—” You sigh helplessly. You hate this — arguing with him. He gets so fucking irrational it pisses you off, but you can understand the circumstances this time. He pulls away from you and your fingers snag on his sweater, making him look up from his mutterings. “Quen, look at me.”

“You throw away your life just to come here and shit on me, huh?”

“I didn’t throw away my life just because I quit my job.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. You want to see your best friend again, not this dark part you know lurks within him. His eyes lift and the spark returns to his eyes. You offer a hesitant smile.

He chews on his lower lip as you shuffle closer. You outstretch your arms and he huddles closer, allowing you to hold his head to your chest. His arms wrap loosely around your body and you rest your chin atop his head.

“That’s what you’ve been working for since… since forever, though,” he protests weakly. You stroke his head and kiss his hairline, chuckling. “You know it’s true. You work your ass off to get to where you want to be and you just throw away your dream ‘cause I got fired. It’s stupid, and—”

“My dream job is working with you, you thespian.” You place both hands flat against his face, drawing him back so he looks right at you. “You’re so dramatic. God, how am I even friends with you?”

“Seventh grade summer school for programming,” he mumbles and you laugh loudly. It’s so infectious it causes his own smile. “We were the only two who knew what we were doing.”

“Well, it was a rhetorical question,” you snort, kissing his forehead affectionately. He smiles against your palms, taking one of your wrists and pressing his lips against your skin. You melt, smile softening as warmth spreads from the point of contact to your chest. “I’d follow you anywhere, y'know?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Too late now, honey.” You reach for your tea but then Quentin’s hands cup your face, turning you back to him. His eyes bear into yours so intensely that your heart races up to your throat, your voice dying in a mere squeak. “Quen?”

“I love you,” he states and you roll your eyes, patting his cheek softly. You can ignore the fluttering in your chest if he shuts up right now. His thumbs graze over your cheeks and you chuckle nervously. Nope. No feelings. Just me and my best friend. My best friend and I.

“Love you, too, honey.”

“No, seriously, I love you.”

“Yeah, I get it. I love you too.” You lean forward to give him a kiss between the eyes but he stops you, hands trailing down your neck to your shoulders and then to your waist. His blue eyes blown out wide, something dark and smokey lurks within. Utterly hypnotic and deep as oceans, you blink to save yourself from drowning as your throat runs dry. “Quen…” Your voice comes out almost like a moan and you clear your throat as heat rushes all around your body. You’re flaring up, and by his slight smile, he can tell. “Quen, we said this doesn’t work.”

“We said this wouldn’t work because we’re too focused on our careers and that hasn’t stopped us from hooking up before.”

“Oh, so this is a hookup now?” you whisper, gaze flickering from his eyes to his plush lips. Your hand on his cheek slides to curl around his neck, fingers playing with tiny hairs along the nape as you swallow what’s left of your inhibitions. If you have to sit here another moment with your hot best friend’s hands on your hips without any action, you might go crazy.

“Well, I wouldn’t say hookup. Too crass.”

“Oh, you’re so classy.”

That sly smile you love crosses his lips, sitting right at home upon his bearded face. One of his hands wraps around your waist, hauling you onto him and you let out a tiny squeal as he twists to lean back against the couch. Your legs bracket his hips as your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself on.

“We said last time was the last time.”

“Well, it was the last time.”

“Then, why am I straddling you?”

“I’m comfortable,” he says with a shrug and you laugh, raking your hair back from your face as you look down upon him. “If you don’t wanna, I’m not gonna make you, honey. You know that.” His expression is so honest, so endearing, that your heart melts for him and you caress his cheek, the beard bristiling against your palm.

“I want to, but we gotta make it quick. I wanna drink my tea.”

“Deal.” Chuckling, you lean down to press a testing kiss against his mouth. He smiles against your lips, kissing back with equal fervor before you depart for another destination.

You kiss his cedarwood and smoke skin, trail up his neck, land on his lips, and taste the sparks of magic and mint and mountain air. His hands work at your top and you giggle when his fingers brush against your bare skin on your waist as he twists you around, pinning you to the couch.

“The tea,” you whisper against his mouth but then his lips leave yours and you whine impatiently. He leaves an open-mouthed, sloppy trail of kisses down your neck as you kick your pants off.

“Stop thinking about the tea,” he murmurs, exasperated, and you laugh, threading your fingers through rich dark hair. The warmth of him against your collarbone makes you shiver and sooner rather than later, he makes you forget all about the tea.

The tea goes cold.

Your mourn its loss by sourly pouting at your best friend from his bed from where he stands in his bathroom. He makes it up to you by peeling the sheets away from your body, and pressing minty kisses onto every inch of you, but it isn’t enough.

He sighs in defeat and goes to make you a new cup of tea.

“What kind?” he calls and you smile sweetly at him through the doorway of his flat — your shared flat now, you suppose. Some time between midnight and daybreak, on linen sheets and silk pillowcases, you’d decided. It should’ve been a decision made long ago, but it doesn’t matter how long it takes to get to the destination, just that you reach it, right?

“Earl grey, honey, thank you!”

He brings you a cup of tea, a kiss, and a promise that he loves you more than best friends do. You laugh, whisper that you love him too, and smile at the melting honey in your tea.

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