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pilfappreciator · 6 months

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Been seeing lots of Bruce x Reader content which is fine! Great even! But I've seen absolutely NOBODY acknowledged the existence of his fine ass muppet wife so I went ahead and DID IT MYSELF 😤😤😤

Bruce/Brandi x Reader

Includes: GN! Reader, polyamory, lots of MILF/DILF appreciation (as there should be), Vacay Lovers

🧡 Chances are you first met them while visiting Vacay Island. Bruce welcomed you with open arms and that charming attitude of his, got you nice and situated for your stay. Eventually he introduced you to his lovely wife Brandi and the kids

💜 The couple warm up to you pretty quick. You've got a great personality, you never hesitate to help them out around the island, their kids adore you (not to mention you're pretty cute)

🧡 These two are honestly couple goals. Literally soulmates. They're super devoted to one another and its pretty obvious to everyone around that they're meant to be. I mean they literally have a gaggle of kids so yknow they're in it for the long run

💜 THAT BEING SAID!! It'd probably be a while before you three actually got together

🧡 Bruce and Brandi only have eyes for each other (at least at first). Introducing someone new into the relationship probably wouldn't even occur to them unless they got to know that person really well, and even then there'd still be long discussions between the two about whether they're really ready for that kind of change. What it would mean for the relationship, how it might affect them, their family and business, ect.

💜 These two never half-ass things. Both are the type to pour their entire souls into what they deem important so if you're gonna be with them, then you bet your ass that it's gonna be for the long haul. The three of you WILL retire and grow old together okay they will PERSONALLY see to it

🧡 But eventually, after you've known them for a year or two and once they've both come to terms with how they feel about you?

💜 BABES PREPARE TO GET SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

🧡 These two are the perfect team (comes with co-owning a business and running a family ig)

💜 After years of being the heartthrob of BroZone, Bruce is an expert at putting his natural charm and good looks to use. This man is constantly making time to come over and strike up a conversation. And I think it's universally agreed that the guy is not shy or subtle once so ever, so expect a lot of compliments/winks/charming smirks thrown your way. This man is fully leaning up against the wall beside you, giving you that signature Casanova Smoulder(tm), all while telling you how he and Brandy are planning to add french fries to the bar menu

🧡 "But it's supposed to be a surpise until then so let's just keep this between the three of us. Okay, beautiful?" He says with a wink, raising a finger and briefly pressing it against your lips

💜 You probably shouldn't get so flustered over French fries... unfortunately Bruce is sexy and knows it 😔

🧡 Brandi isn't as on-the-nose as her husband but that doesn't mean she's any less effective. She managed to snag someone like Bruce afterall so you KNOW she's got game

💜 Definitely gives you just as many compliments and praise but she's very like... very nonchalant about it?? Like the two of you will be mid convo and she'll just randomly go "wow you are literally so gorgeous haha. Are you sure you're single?"

🧡 You have about five seconds to respond before she's moving on and telling you all about how one of her sons keeps getting stuck in ketchup bottles

💜 It's kinda hard to tell if she's actually flirting with you. She's pretty laid back compared to her husband and at certain times she seems like a bit of an airhead, so whenever she says something nice, it tends to come off as a casual compliment...

🧡 But then there are times where she'll like? Brush a strand of hair outta your face, or wipe some food from the corner of mouth unprompted, or point out a piece of jewelry you have on by running her fingers over it?? Her skin grazing your own just the barest amount??? All while she's giving you that look??????

💜 This woman is sneaky as fuck ngl

🧡 Expect to hear these two gush about each other on the daily. They are CONSTANTLY hyping each other up whenever they're apart (they're in love what do you expect?), but when you've got the BOTH OF THEM in front of you??

💜 They are a well-oiled machine. You are absolutely getting tag teamed by this duo. By the time you leave their company expect to be red in the face and your heart skipping a few beats

🧡 You get invited to a LOT of family meals. Mostly dinners, but sometimes lunch and even breakfast too. And believe me, there is no such thing as a quite meal with this family. They have 13 chaotic kids who are always getting into shit so expect to come outta the whole ordeal with a few food stains on your clothes

💜 look out for Bruce Jr. cuz that kid will for sure try to start a food fight

🧡 Bruce and Brandi are always super apologetic about any messes that occur (they know first hand how exhausting their gaggle of kids can be), but then you just smile and seem genuinely unbothered? Maybe even amused by it all??

💜 "Babe what's their ring size?"

"Brandi, honey, pretty sure we have to at least take them on a date first."

"I'm just asking for a friend!"

"...Am I the friend?"

"You know you are, babe."

🧡 Yeah if these two catch you hitting it off with their kids and showing a genuine interest in their hobbies/interest/lives?? They are SWOONING, vows are being MADE, rings are being CHOSEN—

💜 If at any point you recognize Bruce from BroZone, or if Brandi brings it up in conversation in an attempt to boost her man's rep, then prepare yourself because Bruce will most definitely start putting on a show

🧡 Under normal circumstances he'd be wayyyy more hesitant. Performing anything from his past doesn't bring up the best memories... but he's willing to bust out a good bop if it earns him brownie points in your book (and it better considering that his wife is always telling him how hot he looks whenever he's doing his "boy band thing" lol)

💜 OUTINGS WITH BRANDi!! This woman is taking you shopping or out to the nearest cafe/restaurant that just so happens to serve your favorite, what do you know! Sometimes she brings you along to meet her friends, all of whom are well aware of your existence wink wonk

🧡 Will swoon and fan herself whenever you offer to pay for things, but like as a joke!

💜 (not)

🧡 Chances are the kids already know what's up with the three of you. Maybe it doesn't click immediately but Bruce Jr. notices that how his parents treat and act around you is the same as they treat and act around each other, he goes blabbing to his siblings and soon enough they're all in on it. They don't entirely understand the complexity of the situation... but they're aware that one extra parent potentially means more presents for christmas sooooo

💜 These little shits are mischievous as hell. They are asking you what your favorite color is just to subtly drop the answer while Brandi is out shopping for trinkets. You mention what kind of music you're into and suddenly Bruce is looking up playlists

🧡 You better believe all 13 of them have started a betting pool going about who will confess first, you or their parents.

💜 Brandi's friends might be in on this betting pool. The other vacationers too

🧡 Eventually (after lots of pining and a fuck ton of patiently biding their time), Bruce and Brandi decide to take the leap and invite you into the relationship

💜 They invite you to dinner. It is a WHOLE ordeal and they've been planning months in advance. The kids are off being babysat by one of Brandi's friends (both parties were suspiciously cool with this sudden course of action). Their business is put on pause with little complaint from their customers (again, suspicious)

🧡 You're immediately drowned in compliments the second you show up at the door. You could legit just be dressed in your pj's and they're like "wow those sweatpants really make your eyes pop 😀" sjsjskakaka

💜 You are being waited on hand and foot the whole time. Bruce is manifesting every ounce of romanticism he can— flower petals everywhere, candles are lit, he's got a ukulele tuned and ready for when he eventually serenades you. Meanwhile Brandi has cooked you a feast made entirely of all your favorites and is tucking little flowers into your hair every now and then. At some point she hands you a cute piece of jewelry she saw while out shopping the other day. Just a little somethin somethin that immediately made her think of you <33

🧡 Overall, dinner is going great! The three of you are having a blast in each other's company and it's refreshing to be able to have a conversation without worrying about rambunctious kids or another pink eye outbreak. The atmosphere is quite yet intimate. Their hard work is not going to waste. You are thoroughly wooed

💜 And just when dessert is about to be served—

🧡 "We think you're really hot."

"Wha— BRANDi! My song!"

"Hmm? OH, was I supposed to wait till after—?"

💜 Yeahhh they kinda fumble the confession ngl. You'd think they'd be smoother but they are both: 1) very excited, and 2) very nervous

🧡 Nevertheless, their point gets across. For a moment they kinda panic because of how quite you are afterwards, but really you're just? Absolutely flabbergasted?? These two hotties wanna date YOU??? FR??????

💜 Of course once you manage to form a coherent response (hopefully a positive one), the couple is literally over the moon

🧡 Brandi's flapping her lil muppet hands all excited like "OMIGOSH THEY SAID YES?!"

💜 And Bruce is just smirking and all like "of course they did, honey, did you seriously think they'd say no to the two of us?" all while simultaneously releasing the death grip he had on his ukulele (this man is a fraud)

🧡 Victory dessert follows shortly after. Your hands become absolutely useless for the next few minutes because these two are DEFINITELY TAKING TURNS SPOON-FEEDING YOU AJSHAKAKAKA

💜 The night ends with the three of you hanging out on the couch, either with Bruce serenading you and Brandi or the three of you just cuddling in a pile (probably both ngl)

🧡 Cue the next morning. The kids come back just to find you all fast asleep in the living room, you in the middle with their parents on either side

💜 Pictures are 100% being taken

I love these two a lot, could you tell?

Thinkin about doing a PART TWO!! Lemme know what you guys think 👀

#ppl love bruce and thats valid but like??#they ignore his gorgeous muppet wife???#LIKE YOU GUYS SHES RIGHT THERE HELLO #livin up to my username #trolls #trolls band together #bruce trolls #spruce trolls #brandi trolls #x reader #headcanon #Vacay Lovers #<-shipname? anyone??#trolls x reader #brozone #brozone x reader

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loveshotzz · 10 months

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Ask Me What I’m Thinking About

summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)

authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡

🌇 <- chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.

You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.

Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.

“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”

It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s something intimate.

“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor.

��Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.

It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”

Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.

“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.

I didn’t even get my kiss yet.

The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.

“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.

“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench.

One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.

“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.

His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in.

It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess.

He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age.

Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.

“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.

The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.

“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.

“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.

You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.

“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.

You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him.

“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.

You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.

“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.

“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.

“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss.

“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day.

“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”

You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place.

“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.

“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture. “If you think it’s weird I can -“

Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.

“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.

“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.

The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.

Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.

“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.

“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak.

“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.

“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you.

It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.

It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.

It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.

“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.

“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him.

Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.

“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.

“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.

It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.

A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them.

There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.

It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.

“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.

“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’.

That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite.

“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.

Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight.

He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.

“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.

“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.

“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.

“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.

“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten.

“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”

It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.

“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.

“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.

You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.

“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.

“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”

You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before.

“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin.

Knock, knock, knock

You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes.

“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door.

You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.

“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.

Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess.

“Come on in.”

Richard strikes again.

Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants.

The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.

You hate Richard.

“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.

“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you.

You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.

“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.

Steve wants you alone. Now.

“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.

“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.

Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.

Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.

“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze.

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.

The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.

Clink, clink

The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.

“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light.

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?”

“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.

“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time.

Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.

The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here.

He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.

“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him.

Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.

“More than you know, baby.”

The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights.

The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside.

“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”

Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.

You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little.

“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.

“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say, a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.

“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words.

“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink.

“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.

“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.

You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet.

Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.

“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.

He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.

“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.

One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission.

“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”

He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?

“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”

“Maybe.” You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.

“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.”

“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk..

“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.

He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace.

“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction.

“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him.

Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?”

The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear.

“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.

He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again.

“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand.

“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead - You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.

All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.

Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.

“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.”

He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.

The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.

He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.

“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.

Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.

You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes - your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.

That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.

You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.

Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.

———————————————————————

beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️

dividers by @chechelia

🌇 -> chapter ten

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x you #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #older!steve #older!steve harrington #Spotify

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bunnylovesani · 6 months

Text

Miss Congeniality

Chapter 4

Content warnings: MDNI, soft dom ani, smoking weed, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, humiliation kink, dirty talk, ani likes getting slapped, aftercare, general smut with fluff

WC: 2.7k

Your last competition marked the end of pageant season, giving you plenty of time to figure out how you were gonna break the news to your parents that you were done with it all. You’d finished high school over a year ago and were now stuck in a rut; what’s next for you? If you weren’t going to college and weren’t competing for any more titles, what did life have in store? You struggled to imagine a world beyond the 4 walls of your room and your plushy pink bed laden with stuffed animals.

You'd gone out with your family last night to the fancy new Italian place- with your pageant victory and Jaden landing his first job since dropping out of college, there was plenty of cause for celebration. It quickly went awry when you made some distasteful jokes alluding to your status as the golden girl; your father didn’t much appreciate your increasingly rebellious attitude and left the restaurant before dessert could be served.

To your surprise, his displeasure didn’t affect you nearly as much as it normally does. When someone’s mad at you, you’re unusually unbearable about it: you follow them around like a puppy who’d lost its ball, whining and apologising until they caved and showed you affection. But not today. How could you when all your thoughts were consumed by someone else? You looked for him everywhere, sitting on the chair at the edge of your bed or round the table at dinner- Anakin’s absence was sorely felt now that you'd grown accustomed to his frequent pop-ins and tag-alongs. You wondered if it would be strange for you to be the one coming over for once.

You'd always imagined him living in either a frathouse hovel or some kind of unsanitary bachelor pad- but standing in front of the steel gates of the apartment complex, you were pleasantly surprised. You punch in the code he texted you when you announced your arrival and the gate doors swung wide open. Climbing into the elevator to reach the 7th floor, your hands feel clammy and there's bile rising up your throat. You'd never visited him before and the fact that you'd invited yourself over on an impulsive whim had you second-guessing everything.

The elevator doors open and he’s right there, leaning against his apartment at the end of the hallway. You wonder if he waited outside for you so that you wouldn't have a chance to turn back at the last minute. Clearly, he knew you better than you gave him credit for.

“There you are. Took you long enough.” He smirked, leading the way into his apartment as you followed behind him like a lost puppy.

As soon as you stepped foot into the place, your nostrils filled with the musky scent of weed, smoke wafting over from the sizeable brown blunt he held between his silver ring-clad fingers.

“It’s barely noon.” You scolded him as you took a seat on his black leather couch.

“Did you come here just to nag me? Maybe you should take a hit, it’ll chill you out.” He plonked onto a bean bag opposite you, spreading his long legs out and inhaling another drag.

“I didn’t come here to get high.” You huff, wondering why you were acting so high-strung when in fact, you weren’t opposed to the idea.

“No, I don’t suppose you would. You probably couldn’t handle it anyway and I have no interest in spending the night babysitting. In more interesting news, I heard you had a fight with daddy last night.” He spat cockily- damn Jaden and his big mouth.

“Bold of you to assume I’d be spending the night. And it’s none of your business.” You cross your arms, slowly filling with regret for coming here. Why was he being such a dick?

“Wow, you’re acting even more bratty than usual. Didn’t think that was possible. Why are you even here?” He puts the blunt out half-smoked, leaving the remainder resting against the ashtray.

“I, I don’t know…I just thought-“

“Let me take a wild guess. You wanted to piss daddy off by sneaking off to see your brother’s older, bad influence of a friend. Thought you’d push some boundaries and try to prove to yourself that you’re not just a stuck-up little good girl. Well, you failed.” He cocks his eyebrows at you.

“I am neither stuck up nor a good girl! Just because I choose to behave myself instead of acting like an animal doesn’t mean I’m not capable of all the things you are.” You feel your blood pressure rising.

“Prove it.”

“Oh and I bet you would just love it if I put out and debased myself for you. All you want is to get me high and fuck me- I know what your intentions are and it’s not gonna happen buddy.” You get up, marching across the room and heading for the door.

“That’s rich coming from someone who screams my name when she cums.” He states matter-of-factly and you stop in your tracks.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I heard you. Acting all high and mighty when you’re the slut here. Admit it, you want me.” He walks towards you and turns you around to face him. Before your brain can catch up with your body, your palm swings around and makes contact with his right cheek, smacking him with the intensity of a whip cracking.

“Feisty. I like it.” He holds his hand up to his reddened face, somewhat shocked but not angry. “Are we done now? I’m really not in the mood to argue.” He smirks at you, pulling you in by the waist and instantly softening your attitude.

“I’m so sorry! Oh Ani I don’t know what came over me, ‘m sorry!” You attentively caress his cheek, inspecting how hard you slapped him. You acted like your reaction was a result of him calling you that word- but if you were honest with yourself, you knew it was because he was right. If you weren’t in denial, you’d realise you loved the way the insult rolled off his tongue and loved how it made you feel even more.

“I’m so embarrassed.” A blush creeps over your cheeks at the thought of him eavesdropping on your most intimate moments.

“Over assaulting me or over touching yourself thinking about me?” He traces his hand along your shoulder.

“Both.” You give him a snarky glare. He was enjoying this too much.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s done that.” He flashes you a grin before relighting his blunt and scurrying down the hallway into his room.

“Huh, done what? Ani? Not the only one who’s done what?” You follow him down the hallway giddily and stop outside his bedroom door. Blunt in mouth, you see Anakin right before you - taking off his hoodie, shirt getting caught by the tight material and revealing his tanned v-line and happy trail on full display. You couldn’t help but stare at the veins trailing down his lower stomach and leading into his boxers, gulping as you admire the perfect dark blonde tuft of hair growing in a neat line below his belly button.

“God it’s hot in here. What were you asking again?” He asks, folding away his hoodie and taking a long drag.

“Umm, uh it’s nothing. Hey, can I have a puff?” You point at his blunt in curiosity, trying to banish the sinful mental images flashing through your head.

“But princess, it’s barely noon.“ He berates you mockingly and you roll your eyes.

“I was a little tense earlier, ‘m sorry.” You sigh and twiddle your thumbs. “It’s just that I’ve never tried it.”

“Come here.” He beckons you over to his bed and sits you on his lap. “You can try a few drags but only a couple. I don’t wanna see that attitude of yours come out when I cut you off. Now are you gonna be a good girl and listen?”

“Yes Ani, I promise!” You nod along and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Alright sweetheart, here ya go.” He hands you the joint and you take your first hit, coughing and spluttering as a burning sensation spreads through your lungs.

“Ani, this is awful! How can you smoke this?!” You scrunch your face up, disgusted by the strange new feeling.

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong, silly. Inhale slowly, like this.” He demonstrates and you follow his lead, taking a smoother drag this time.

“There you go baby, you’re a natural.” He chuckles and snakes his hand round to rest on your bare thigh. “What kind of outfit is this, huh? Are you trying to seduce me or something?” He snorts, playing with the short frills of your mini skirt.

“No! I just thought it was pretty.” You chirp innocently.

“Pretty slutty, yea.” You gasp and slap his chest.

“Will you stop hitting me?!” He exclaims, digging his fingers into your thighs.

“I will, just as soon you stop calling me a slut!”

“Why, when I know you like it.”

“So do you.” You’d noticed him shuffling around and adjusting his sweatpants every time you’d playfully hit him and you weren’t that oblivious as to what that meant.

“Is that why you do it then?” He says after a little pause, gaze dropping to focus on your parted lips.

“Um…uh, I” You stutter as you feel your panties getting wet and your brain getting hazy- partially from his intense gaze and partially from the blunt.

“Aw, is it getting to you now? I see your eyes glazing over.” He takes the blunt out of your hands and takes another puff himself before putting it out. “That’s enough.”

You’re too busy fixating on his thumb which is rubbing feather-light circles into your inner thigh to notice.

“Stop it, you’re making me feel tingly.” You bat his hand away.

“Oh yeah? What kinda tingles?” He disregards your command and returns his hand to its original position.

“The kind that make me feel fuzzy inside…” You utter in a hushed tone, starting to sway a little now that your high had hit you.

“Lie down f’me babe.” He guides you off his lap and onto his bed. “So you’ve never had anyone help you make those tingles go away?”

“Nuh uh.” You shake your head innocently and he grins, starting to lift your shirt and press light kisses up and down your tummy.

“And would you like it if your Ani was the first?” He looks up at you, speaking so softly you could barely hear him.

You choked out a “yea!” before covering your face with a pillow, embarrassed by Anakin’s insistence on eye contact as he slid your skirt off and started fiddling with the waistband of your pink panties.

“Don’t be shy baby, I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” He groans as he hooks his fingers around your underwear and slides them off before spreading your legs and admiring what’s between them.

“Anii, what are you doing?” You squeal, face burning with shame, barely able to meet his intense gaze.

“Stop squirming, will ya? I’ve been dreaming about this moment for months, let a man take in the view before he dives in.” He grazes his thumb lightly over your clit and lets out a moan. “Goddamn baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You have a habit of ruining your panties, don’t you?”

You whine at his patronising comments, feeling overwhelmed with arousal and embarrassment.

“What a pretty pink pussy…” He mutters to himself and you feel yourself being pulled into a narcotic-induced daze, everything around you growing hazy and numb.

You’re brought back to life when his tongue dips into your folds, licking a wet stripe up your clit that makes your body jolt with pleasure.

“Fuck!” You yelp unexpectedly as your thighs start trembling- you don’t ever swear. He looks up at you as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your swollen pussy, maintaining a tight grip around your hips to ensure you can’t escape.

“Already shaking, princess? You virgins are so sensitive.” He sneers before resuming his torturously pleasurable routine. You moan and pant as waves of euphoria wash over you like never before. You’d touched yourself a few times but you’d never experienced such mind-numbingly sensual gratification.

Just as you thought the pleasure couldn’t possibly escalate, he pushes one of his fingers inside your tight little hole. You gasp at the intrusion and before you can properly adjust, he shoves another one in until he’s massaging your insides with a beckoning motion.

“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s okay.” He hushes you comfortingly as you squeal and whimper. He resumes tonguing your bundle of nerves as you grab onto his unruly blonde curls, needing something to ground you in case you floated away in ecstasy.

“You taste so good princess…you like my fingers, huh? I can see you do, you’re gushing all over me.” You blush at his crude words as he slaps the side of your thigh and dives back in, continuing to eat you out for what felt like hours. He worked you up to the brink of your orgasm several times- before stopping abruptly, ensuring you were sobbing with pleasure before he even considered releasing you.

“Bet you’re gonna think twice now before coming to my house with that attitude again.” He grunts, silver rings pounding against your pussy as he continues stroking you with increasing intensity.

“Mm, please! Please Ani, please let me cum. You were right, I am a good girl, I’m your good girl! Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore!” You wail, half out of your mind and nauseous with pleasure.

“Daddy, huh?” He smirks, satisfied that he’d tortured you for long enough. “Alright baby, let go for me. Cum all over my fingers sweetheart.”

With one final resounding moan, you cum so hard the world starts spinning and you see stars, glistening brightly and jumping across the room. You take deep gulps of air to try and calm your erratically beating heart as Anakin lifts himself up to lie down beside you.

“Breathe baby, just breathe.” He pulls you into his arms and places his hand in an open palm over your heart. “You did so good. Here angel, drink some water.” Handing you the bottle, you only then realise how dry your mouth feels from the blunt.

“Ani? How did you manage to get it all so wet after smoking?” You ask weakly after taking a few sips.

“Most of that wetness wasn’t from me, sweetheart.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, before planting a few kisses there. “Do you wanna spend the night here?”

“Mhm! Yea Ani I’d love to!” You chirp sweetly.

“Alright baby, why don’t we get you changed into something more comfortable and then we can watch something?” He plants a delicate kiss onto your lips and gets up to peruse through his wardrobe. “How about this? It’s my favourite band tee.” He throws you a black shirt with a metal band graphic printed across it- you recognise it instantly as one of his most worn articles of clothing and your heart swells with joy. Eagerly, you throw it on and giggle at how oversized it is on you.

“I love it!” You wrap your arms around yourself and take a deep inhale: woody cologne, weed and peppermint gum. “It smells like you too.”

“Oh no I’m sorry, maybe I forgot to wash it- let me get another one-“

“No Ani, I love it! You smell amazing.” You pull him back down into the bed with you and roll on top of him, wanting to be as physically close as possible. “Baby? I feel bad, you made me feel amazing and I haven’t...well, done anything.”

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck, princess. Now, what do you want to watch?” He rolls you over, wraps his arm around you and reaches for the remote.

Next Chapter

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #life as a house #star wars smut #hayden christensen fluff #anakin x reader smut #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin smut #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker

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forlix · 8 months

Text

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・710 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・domestic fluff, established relationship, just self-indulgent brainrot about hyun's dimples tbh

𝟬𝟵:𝟬𝟮 — When your eyes open, you’re met with a ceiling doused in flaxen sunlight, the foliage outside your window casting oscillating shadows against your bedroom walls. As you blink your drowsiness away, you become aware also of the warm weight on your chest and the hill of tousled hair in your periphery.

You lift your head about an inch off the pillow to take in your current circumstance, and it takes every ounce of will power in you to stifle the sound of delight that bubbles to your lips.

Hyunjin does this thing in his sleep sometimes, where he’ll find a way to sandwich you between him and the mattress (he’s only using his upper half today; his toes are hanging off the edge of the bed), and then attach to you like a sloth to its favorite branch, his arms confined around your waist, his head nestled on top of your collar.

It doesn’t happen often, granted, but it might as well be your birthday whenever it does. He wakes up an embarrassed mess in the face of your glee, and you don’t let him live it down for days afterward. You even have a rotation of jokes for the occasion by now, your favorite being the one where you go, wow, you must really like me, huh? And he answers yes like he’s being held at gunpoint.

Happy birthday to me, you hum.

You gently sweep your fingers through your boyfriend’s unwieldy locks, still soft and scented from his shower last night. The movement causes Hyunjin’s eyelids to twitch, his throat to thrum with a low, weary grunt; and he shifts a little, burying his face in the crook of your neck, flexing his hands where they lay curled against your back.

And then he realizes.

“No,” he whispers, the sound hoarse and horrified.

“Morning, baby,” you coo. “How did you sleep?”

“No," he repeats, this time dragging out the vowel of the word. And he untangles an arm to drag the duvet over his head, burrowing into the cozy material.

Not about to let him escape, you follow suit, only to discover that he has assumed the fetal position beneath the covers. You finally emit the giggle that you’ve been holding back since you woke up.

Cotton falls against the surface of your cheek when you settle into your new position: sort of awkwardly tucked near Hyunjin’s side, your face so close to his that your noses brush together when you try to look at him. The morning light is mostly snuffed by the fabric over your heads, but there’s just enough visibility for you to drink in the rosy coloration of his skin and the rich carob brown of his tired eyes.

“Such a drama queen,” you murmur. Your hands cradle his cheeks and your lips press to the tip of his nose, to which he scrunches up his face in faux disdain. “As if I didn't already know that you're secretly some sort of tree-dweller.”

“You’re so annoying,” Hyunjin replies, absolutely zero conviction in his small, sleep-ridden voice, and you kiss his nose another time, then another. This coaxes a soft, helpless smile to his face, the kind that turns his eyes to little boomerangs and dots dimples on his cheeks like sesame seeds.

“And you—”

You move to kiss said dimples now, your lips moulding against the tender hollows that you so adore. In response, Hyunjin bursts into a peal of bashful laughter, which ironically causes them to disappear.

“—are everything.”

There's a flurry of movement, a flourish of cloth; and then you once again find yourself lying beneath him, except now he is wide awake, and surveying you with such immense affection that you feel like a bowl of gelatin.

He dips down and kisses you, as slowly and sweetly as the pace of the halcyon morning. Raven locks of hair skim your closed eyelids; slender fingers curve over your jaw; the soft sounds of your lips moving together buoy against the underside of the covers.

“Oh, by the way,” you break away to say with a playful lilt, and he preemptively groans because he knows what's coming, "you must really like me."

Hyunjin replaces his mouth upon yours before you can make another sound, his next words nearly unintelligible when they vibrate against you.

"You’re lucky I do."

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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jasmines-library · 7 months

Note

Loving your whumptober so far! Spent like an hour reading through all of your entries and wow 🥰 if you’re still taking requests, maybe you could consider doing a batfam fic with a reader who used to be a member of the court of owls. I just think that’d be cute haha

The Cover Up

Summary: You're tired of living a lie. of living in a constant state of secrecy. You want out, but you have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That finally comes in the form of Dick Grayson, but things so sideways when the Court send assassins after you and you are forced to rely on a team of masked vigilante's and long-time enemies of the Court to save your life. (gn reader :))

Note: I had to do a bit of research for this one but this was so much fun to write! Thank you for requesting anon!

Warnings: implied/ briefly mentioned abusive parents, assassination attempts, non descriptive injury, found family and a fluffy ending :)

Word count: 3.2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Galas were boring. At least they were in Gotham. They were all the same; a bunch of wealthy snobs dressed extravagantly all crammed into a room with delicately ornate ceilings and diamond shaped chandeliers. The sound of feet shuffling and heels clicking against the polished floors occasionally broke through the sound of chatter as guests mingled, drifting between one and other, passing around pristine champagne glasses that glistened when they caught the light that seemed to be obsessively bright considering it was dark outside and all you could see besides the moon and the stars were the street lamps that dwindled away into nothing in the distance.

You had secluded yourself to the top of the stairs, tucking yourself into a corner by the bannister, trying to find a way to sit in your outfit that made you feel like the human embodiment of a wooden plank; the material was too stiff in some places, and if you moved in certain ways, it would ride up and sit uncomfortably on your skin. From up here you had a clear view of everything from below. You kept a keen eye on the Wayne boys as they dotted around the room, plastering on smiles to hide their clearly bored faces.

You couldn’t help needing the constant feeling of being able to survey. It was something that your family had ingrained into you from the moment you were old enough to understand how to keep a secret. See, your family was part of a syndicate that dated back hundreds of years. It used its wealth and the power that came with it to manipulate its way into getting what it wants when it wants it. But, it wasn’t just your family. There were others, too. In fact, at least half of the people in the room were a part of the syndicate. The Court of Owls. The elite. Gothams deadliest. And you were lucky to be one of them. Or, that’s what you had always been told…but recently, you had been feeling off. Something hacked away at you, your life was one big lie. And what you were doing felt wrong… you couldn’t handle the blood shed anymore. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. You would find a way out.

“What are you doing?”

The gruff voice made you jump. Lost in your reverie, you hadn’t even heard the figure approach from behind you. His large figure and broad shoulders told you that his steps should have been heavy, but there was something else about him that screamed the opposite at you, but perhaps your hardwiring was making you overthink.

“I uh…Sorry.” You mumbled, scrambling to stand up and failing to think of an excuse.

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head and extending a hand from his black suit jacket for you to take. When you took it, it was calloused but gentle, warm and followed by a chivalrous grin.

“I don’t think we’ve met before.” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You shook your head. “Perhaps not. I tend to keep to myself at these kinds of things. Try to avoid them if possible.”

The boy smiled. “Agreed. I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N.” You shook his hand, opting not to give him a last name. You knew that if you gave it away somehow you would slip up. “So, you’re one of Wayne’s kids? What’s that like for you?”

“Exactly as you’d expect it to be. Three whiny little brothers, a dad who’s barely there, but somehow still overprotective all the time. What more could one ask for?”

“Sounds like you’re living the life.” You agreed. You hated to admit it, but you were slightly jealous of the kid. You had always begged for a normal life. Well, as close to normal as you could get to.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged.

There was something about this stranger that made you feel safe. It was an odd sensation, but talking to Dick made you feel like a missing part of you had been filled. His voice was so comforting that it allowed you to get lost within his lilt for hours, losing track of time and purpose, forgetting about that oh so present worry of keeping the secret. It wasn't until a cold, bony hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you up and away from the stairs. You weren’t even given a change to say goodbye to Dick as you were mercilessly dragged away.

Your mother scolded you that night. Hurrying you down the dark pathway. She uttered the same words. It was always the same words. “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N.” “That’s not how we act, Y/N.” “Oh, if only he could see you now he would be outraged at how useless you are.”

It would have been nice to say that you had to bite back the tears, but it was such a common occurrence now that you just kept your face stoic and marched on down the pathway, listening to the gravel crunch as it shifted under your shoes instead of your mother.

It was that night that seemed to be the final straw.Another scolding from your mother at the Court meeting before bed, and you finally snapped. It was embarrassing, being belittled like that in front of your friends. So, although the plan was slightly rushed, it seemed to be the perfect timing. It was already late, and your parents had retired to bed with weary steps and droopy eyes. It was the perfect chance to slip out unnoticed. Or, so you thought.

With your bag slung over your shoulder and your mask still pressed tightly to your face, you tried to slip out of the door. You were halfway down the driveway, keeping your back pressed to the dark shadows cast by the hedges when you heard it. A snap, and then an animalistic growl. And then there were the haunting green eyes that seemed to blink into existence out of nowhere; vibrant and angry they stared a never resisting stare at you as the humanoid honed in on you.

Without thinking twice, you dropped your bag and ran, slamming your feet into the ground and propelling yourself down the drive and into the maze of buildings in Gotham City. The Talon was right behind you. You could hear it drawing in, feel its hot breath every time you began to slow, only for it to propel you on faster.

When you found a fork in the path, you made a fake turn hoping to trick the Talon into going the wrong way as you clambered up an old steel ladder that made you wince as it echoed much too loudly across the alley for your liking. For one, bittersweet moment, you thought that it had worked, but after catching your breath at the top of the roof, you were forced back to running at the sound of a second charging at you even more persistently than the first. It was safe to say that you were now your family’s enemy.

You cursed, leaping across the flat roofs as you tried to lose them, but the assassins weren't relenting.

The darkness made it difficult to see where each building ended and the next one began, but you continued to hurl yourself across them, unsure of where you were actually trying to get to. All you knew was that you had to get out of Gotham. And fast.

But your plan seemed to go sideways when they began to throw the knives. Small but deadly, they were rounded into a fine point a few inches below a well etched hole for them to be flung from the wielder's hands. Their poison tipped grooves glimmered unsettlingly as they whipped through the air with concerning precision, but your time with the Court gives you a one up on the average person and allows you to dodge a few of them. But only by mere millimetres.

Despite the burn in your thighs, you sped up weaving around Gotham until you thought you had finally slipped their grasp. But the assassins were highly trained, and you should have known better than to trust your immediate judgement.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a throwing knife found its place within your back, tearing away at the fabric of your outfit. You let out a gasp of pain, but pressed on racing around a corner. But then another found its mark deep within your calf. You cursed, biting down harshly on your lip then stumbling around a corner and pressing yourself against the concrete wall. With heavy breaths as though all of your oxygen had been snatched away from you, you listened anxiously. But you heard nothing besides the occasional car passing by in the street below.

Without thinking twice about it, you tore the daggers from your skin, biting back your cry of pain hoping that if you got them out the poison wouldn’t spread, though fortune didn’t seem to be in your favour recently. After tearing a strip of material from your sleeve and creating a makeshift bandage around your leg, you hobbled quickly down the nearest set of steps winching each time the wound in your leg shifted.

You didn’t think your night could get any worse, but it was then as you whipped around a corner that you collided with a firm chest. The figure was masked and decked with a blue insignia that somewhat resembled a raven. He was quick to grip you by the shoulders and slam you against the wall.

Pushing at him feebly you tried to loosen his hold on you but you were outmatched by his strength and your body was beginning to succumb to the effects of the poison the Talons had laced their weapons in, so you just gazed at him wide eyed behind your mask. You were running out of time.

“Please.” You implored, struggling against him “I have to get out of here. They’re coming for me.”

“What?” He almost barked. “Who?”

“I-”

“Answer me, Bird.” His jaw tensed. Your family didn’t have a very good history with Gotham’s vigilantes.

“The Talons.” You gritted out.

You visibly saw confusion cross his face as he deepened his brow, but he loosened his grip when he saw the glowing eyes appear on the rooftop.

“We need to leave.” You pushed yourself away from the wall and propelled yourself further into Gotham, not caring that the vigilante was close behind. In fact, it only occurred to you that he was following you when one of the assassins managed to approach from front to try and corner you. With your vision doubling your aim was off and the dagger sailed past your target, so Nightwing raced past you and moved to take it out with one swipe of his electrified staff only to be cut short by the sound of gunfire and the emergence of another masked figure, only this one was cloaked in red. The two vigilantes acknowledged each other seemingly commuicating to eacother in ways you couldn't hear. You nodded at him gratefully and continued to make a break for it, only glancing back once to fling the other stolen dagger at your pursuers and hoping that it did something useful other than clatter to the floor.

It seemed life forever by the time you were able to stop running. You were on the far side of Gotham, away from all of the hubbub of the city. You breathed heavily clutching at the stitch in your side when your legs buckled and you had no choice but to sit down on the ground to unravel the blood soaked rag and examine the angry cut.

Red Hood seemed to have other plans for when you tilted your head up, he was angling his gun towards you at you.

“Why were they after you?” he demanded, scowling. “Who are you?”

“I-” You began to explain but you were overcome with a rush of nausea and soon the lights of Gotham city and the masked vigilantes faded to black.

Dick Grayson frowned as he studied your unconscious body tucked neatly into one of the spare bedrooms in the manor. It had been four long days since he had hauled you had succumbed to the effects of the poison and your body had raised an alarming fever that caused beads of sweat to form across your hot skin. You were so warm that he could feel the heat radiating from you by the chair he was sitting in albeit you couldn’t stop shivering.

Tenderly he brushed the hair from your face. One of the first things that they had done was remove your mask, and it was safe to say that Dick was taken aback when he realised that it was you hiding behind the costume. When he carried you back to the manor he wasn’t entirely sure why. It would have been easier to have just left you there to rot, after all his family were no big fans of the Court of Owls, but there was just something about you that compelled him to. You seemed so scared and innocent, but he could tell you also had this fire that flickered inside of you, desperate to leap out. It was oddly familiar to him, but he couldn’t place why until he took off the mask. When he had met you that night you hadn’t seemed like the person who would be a part of the court. He and Jason had been studying them for years and your tenderness didn’t seem to fit the profile. But then they sent assassins after you, so perhaps you were never really part of them in the first place? There were so many unanswered questions that they made the vigilantes head spin.

“She still not awake yet?” Tim asked, pushing open the door with his legs before setting down two mugs of coffee. He had taken a particular interest in you since you had arrived. All of the boys had. They had all seen you at Bruce’s galas, even spoken to you once or twice, so your entire predicament really interested them.

It was then that you began to stir; muscles twitching and eyes blinking slowly. That was then followed by a low groan as all of your sensations flooded back to you all at once, hitting you like a ton of bricks as the headache and dull throbbing from the stitches kicked in.

“Take it easy.” Tim said as you jerked up suddenly. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

You eyed him confused, but slightly calmer when you realised that you were out. That the Talons hadn’t ended your life.

“How did I get here…?” You blinked.

The two brothers glanced at each other and then Dick sighed. The truth would only come out sooner or later.

“We ran into each other a few nights ago. You passed out on me so I brought you back here… We managed to treat you for the poison, but you’ve wracked up quite a fever. It’s a good thing you took those out when you did.” He gestured towards the bandages that were wrapped securely around your chest and your leg. “Any longer and.. Well.”

“Oh…”

“Oh? That’s it? You don’t care that he’s just revealed our identities?” Tim asked.

You shrugged. “I guess it makes sense. Five of you. Five of them. And I suppose it’s only fair. You know who I am, now I know who you are.”

You trailed off. You still needed to get as far away from Gotham as possible.

“Thank you for everything, but I need to go-” You tried to push yourself up on shaky arms but were stopped by Tim.

“Stay there. Your body still needs to recover.”

“But they’re after me. I need to leave. I’m putting us all in jeopardy just by being here-”

“Relax.” Dick told you, running his hand down your arm “You’re safe. They’re not going to hurt you here. Not under our watch.”

His tenderness caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you were used to having.

“Get some rest, y/n.” he told you. “We’ll keep you safe as long as you need.”

Much to your surprise you had ended staying with the Waynes much longer than you had anticipated.

At first, you told yourself it was just to get yourself back up on your feet before you disappeared under the radar, but you soon began to develop a strong liking for each other and your bonds with them began to grow.

You began to enjoy spending time with them; passionate talks with Tim or bingeing movies with Jason until ungodly hours in the morning before being scolded by Alfred for not getting a healthy amount of sleep and sparring with Dick to help maintain your combat skills that at first you had wanted to ditch, but were eventually persuaded otherwise. You had even grown close with Damian who although was reluctant to openly warm up to you at first had eventually become someone you shared nearly everything with. It didn’t take long at all before you were the voice that guided them through their ear pieces each time they set out on patrol.

Time seemed to pass by in a flash because before you knew it, it had been months since you first arrived and you no longer felt as though you were an outsider. They had welcomed you with open arms, sympathising with your situation but allowing you that space for your own independence which you were often grateful for at times when you didn’t want to deal with their antics.

The four of them felt as though they had a duty to protect you for a while after your escape from the Court. They had been incredibly helpful in keeping you out of your family’s watchful eye, even going as far as creating you a fake identity, but they also gave you a sense of security. It was their kindness and their love that allowed you to fall asleep at night, and it was their knowledge that allowed them to be there for you when it all just became a little too much and you were in desperate need of a shoulder or four to cry on.

They made you feel safe.

You cherished each and every moment that you shared with the Wayne boys. Both the good and the bad. Each one was a reminder of who you were. That you had carved your own path and were free to discover who you wanted to be.

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked :)

⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤

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seancekitsch · 1 year

Text

Wow, I can get sexual, too: an Adrian Chase x Reader fic- chapter 4

series masterlist here

warnings: eventual smut, masturbation, twitter nude culture, the very slightest dub con but not really just saying this to be safe, mutual pining, idiots in love, perv!reader but also perv!adrian

a/n: its gonna be five chapters!!!!! and maybe an epilogue, but ugh there's so much thats gonna happen in this chapter thats STILL somehow not reader and adrian shmangin

You find yourself making uncomfortable eye contact with the little plastic rabbit superglued to the dashboard of Adrian’s car while Blondie drifts through the speakers. Adrian’s been on a women of rock kick lately. Something about Women’s History Month even though that month has come and gone.

“Every Obstacle is an Opportunity!” his little sign reads. Yeah, right.

But maybe the weird little rabbit is bright. Maybe he knows better. Totally, the little plastic rabbit is telling you that your borderline creepy crush on Adrian is simply an opportunity! And that this is his way of communicating that sign to you from the universe.

“Is that a different perfume?” Adrian asks, and you whip your head to the side to look at him.

Is he really that perceptive?

“Yeah, actually. Good catch. It’s a bottle called Alien?”

You’re not sure why you told him the name, it’s not like he would know the designer brands.

“Did you buy that because of those alien birds we fought?”

“Butterflies aren’t—,” You pause, and smooth your skirt, “No, I just liked it.”

“I like it too. It’s better than the one you usually wear. It’s sexy. I think I smell Jasmine? Is that it?”

You just stare wide eyed at the fact that he said you smelled sexy, and all you can do is nod. It is jasmine. Adrian is convinced butterflies are birds and you cannot tell him otherwise but somehow he can pick up on exact scents expertly like it’s some kind of superpower.

“Thank you, Adrian,” you say, and you just let the moment sit between you. You have recently had your hand between your legs over the mere sight of him and now he’s here letting you play passenger princess and telling you that you smell sexy. You think of your underwear, now knowing he possesses the other half of the set you feel wildly insecure.

Granted, if he actually does see the set tonight, he’ll know why is doesn't match and rip it off you eagerly regardless, but another more neurotic part of you thinks that the underwear is make or break. That part of your brain says that if your underwear set doesn't match he’s literally going to reject you and either kick you out of his place or leave your place.

You smooth your skirt again even though it absolutely doesn't need it.

Adrian turns the volume up on the radio, gleefully singing along to the Kylie Minogue song that started playing. His smile and his attempt to act the lyrics pry you momentarily out of your nerves and you join in, singing your heart out trying to harmonize with him.

At a particularly high note, you get bold and grab his shoulder while you both belt the lyric, not unlike how bold you were when you leaned on him during Fargo. Aridan leans into the touch, and even momentarily looks away from the road to meet the intensity of the popstar moment. You smile as you hold the note, eyes meeting his and god, his eyes are so pretty. Your hand stays on his shoulder until the end of the song, and then he returns to mainly focus on the road.

It's easy to take in his features under the streetlights this way, while his eyes scan the road and he now much more quietly sings along to a Taylor Swift song. He knows you're not a Swiftie, but you've told him more than enough times you'd never shame him. He could sing it loud if he wants, you'd be his audience of one. His smile still tugs at his face, barely dimpled and rising to meet his strong cheekbones. Even with his big aviator glasses you can see the way his eyes wrinkle a little at the corner when he laughs.

Its when your eyes drift down to his jawline that makes you stop. Stubble dusts his jawline, not anything strong enough to be the beginnings of a beard, but not nothing.

Just enough to give the insides of your thighs a rash if he…

Girl, get your mind out of the gutter!

The stubble surprises you because Adrian’s usually so put together, at least in this sense. He’s almost always clean shaven, he gets his haircut on routine, and he never bites his nails. Physically, he’s well put together. The stubble makes it almost seem like he was rushing, like he put off his routine for something else. Come to think of it, he seemed kind of in a rush to leave headquarters today, and then he made that video. Did he have enough time to…? No, he couldn't have. Could he?

“Hey, want me to find a classic rock station or something? I know you don't like Taylor, and I shouldn't, Dorian says she’s for whiny girls that cant get a date but I don't agree, I think she's actually really talented,” Adrian stops when he notices you’re just watching him talk. He does that a lot around you, you’ve noticed. Maybe it’s because you actually don’t tell him to shut the fuck up whenever he gets a little excited.

“Oh, but I don’t mean you think like Dorian. I’m sure your reason is…. nuanced,” he pauses, as if he was searching for the word, “You’re way smarter than my brother.”

“This is fine, Adrian. I can use this little dance you're doing as blackmail sometime when I want you to do something for me,” you throw that joke out totally expecting it to just go over his head, or for him to say something about the morality of blackmail.

“Well that’s dumb,” He replies seriously, “You don’t need to blackmail me. I would do anything for you.”

Your hand moves to brush the sleeve of his jacket, moving almost on its own accord.

“I— thank you. Same, uh, same for you,” you’re a little dumb struck by the earnest response, but Adrian has a habit of doing this to you, whether he knows it or not.

The rest of the ride to the bar is relatively easier on your nerves, his comment giving you confidence to form up a little more firm of a plan. You’ll get him alone, maybe asking for a favor. Maybe you’re worried to get a drink alone in this short little skirt and oh no, you’d hate for someone to get skewered because they touched something that didn’t belong to them, right?

That’ll have to work, you figure as he pulls into the parking lot of the bar. It’s nothing special, the bar you always go to for hang out nights, but tonight it feels imposing, the building itself feeling like a threat while he puts the Sebring into park and basically jumps out of the drivers seat. You hurriedly do the same and he grabs your hand to pull you into the entrance of the dive, the only sports bar in Evergreen your crew hasn’t been kicked out of yet, but you’re well on your way to being there too. The contact of his hand in yours is warm, so much so that your forearm even burns, you feel his touch radiate all the way up your arm and into your torso. It’s thrilling, walking into this little dive with Adrian holding your hand, like for a moment you can pretend you’re actually his and you’re just a normal couple coming for some beers and a round of pool or two.

But he drops your hand the second you spot the others. You try not to feel completely butthurt about it, but a certain coldness starts to grow within you.

You greet everyone with a smile, hugs and banter and everything normal, and if they sense your nerves towards Adrian, none of them mention it.

It’s easy to get your drinks and settle in at your regular stool at the bar, seated turned away from the bartender next to Emilia while Adrian and Chris stand in front of the both of you. It strategically shook out that way a while ago. Chris was close to Emilia and Leota if standing in the middle, you could lean behind Emilia to speak to Leota, Adrian and you got along best outside of him and Chris, and John could shout if he had something to add to what you were saying and you’d listen even if the other men wouldn’t.

Tonight’s soundtrack is a mystery. That is, whoever has control of the touchtunes for the bar tonight is a mystery. Its routine that at least one of your group throws twenty or so dollars onto the touchtunes app and torments the others with their music tastes for the whole night when you go out.

Usually you can tell who it is. Adrian goes for eighties pop or top 40 hits, John goes for indie rock or european metal, Chris is all power metal, Leota is blues or early hip-hop, Emilia is early country, and you’re usually the classic rock or nineties pop. Tonight is a weird mix of a little of it all with some pop punk thrown in the mix. Knowing you didn’t touch the app before coming here, it has to be your group fighting for dominance not only with each other but with another patron.

A Front Bottoms song about being emotionally stunted plays while you order your first margarita of the night, extra salt on the rim, and Adrian moves protectively behind you so no one can shimmy their way in next to your seat while you order. He always does this, as he says, so no one butts in and orders when it should be your turn.

That’s fair, you think.

The bartender puts extra salt on the rim just the way you like it, and you take a long sip before calling Adrian off of his attack dog routine.

Conversation flows easily from there as the booze keeps flowing. Good natured banter and ribbing sprinkled in with non sequiturs from Adrian that are met with mixed results but it's something you've come to find comfort in. You've almost completely forgotten the annoyance over the fact that your underwear doesn't match.

It gets to the point after your second margarita that you finally feel confident enough to try to get Adrian alone. No better time than the present and you've clocked that he keeps pausing his sentences to openly watch you lick the salt off the rim of your glass.

You all laugh at something Economos says about a date he’d recently been on- the fact that he’s finally stopped dying his beard seems to be doing wonders for his dating profile, and thankfully Chris doesn't make any comments about that. At least none that you can catch, but you turn your attention back to your drink.

You take another sip, and then dart your tongue out again to get a little bit more of the salt, your eyes meeting Adrian’s again and you know it's time to pull the trigger on this plan.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, adding, “Over there? I don’t want to spoil Fargo for Adebayo, she just started watching.”

“I did not—,” Leota starts, and then stops herself. She realizes that she wasn’t supposed to hear you using her as your excuse to get him alone, and is a real one for that. You’ll have to buy a hat for her Keeya’s dogs the next time you get one of those weird targeted ads.

“Are you sure we can’t just text? I know that's bad friend etiquette, but…”

You don’t know where the fuck he picked something like that up, seeing as this team and your surrounding friends are not typical in any way.

“I want to have a discussion real quick, I promise it’ll be easier than texting,” you shoot him a smile and his concern melts into a smile and he agrees.

He helps you off of your barstool and you lead him to the other side of the bar, taking advantage of the L-shape that you can still see your friends but theyre far enough that this can be a private moment. You sit in a new barstool, feeling weirdly cold that its not your usual seat and Adrian parks himself on the stool next to yours.

“So what’d you wanna ask, Cowgirl?”

There's that damn nickname again, and his tweet from the other night flashes through your mind to shake your composure, but you soldier on. He casually sips his beer and the anticipation is clear on his face. He must be so happy to have someone else to talk about his favorite show with him, and you're just happy you have friends with things to talk to them about again.

“Do you think Satchel and Rabbi will make it out?” You ask, and maybe you should have thought of a question when you came up with this plan instead of winging it. With five more episodes left of the season, you know the bloodshed isn’t over.

“I hope so! I don't want the Fadda’s to win the turf war,” Adrian answers, enthusiastic to talk about his favorite show.

“Do you think anyone’s going to die in the next episode?” you ask, wanting him to just keep talking. You could listen to him talk for weeks and not get tired of it.

“Oh I think Gaetano’s gonna get it next. His brother’s tired of him and wants to take the power for himself! It’ll just be interesting to see if that happens, what kind of a power vacuum that would cause in a crime syndicate like that. I mean, I’ve never seen it. I just kill them all. Get rid of a flower at the root, right?”

“I think you mean getting rid of a weed at the root.”

“No, it's definitely a flower. What else would gardeners be doing so often to change out flowers?”

You don't know how to argue against that, so you just nod towards him and clink your glass on his bottle.

“Guess we’ll just have to see at the next sleepover, huh?” he asks, and there's pure glee on his face. If you didn't know any better, you'd say your agreeing to a Fargo sleepover was the highlight of his week.

“Guess so, speaking of, should I bring any snacks, or wine?”

“No! No definitely not,” Adrian assures you, “I have a picture of your favorite wine bottle saved in my phone, I’ll make sure you have some for the episode.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you find yourself nervously smoothing your skirt from where it's ridden up on the stool again.

“Are you trying to get me drunk next week?” You joke, winking and hoping he picks up on your tone.

“No, I’d never do that. Unless you wanted me to. It's your choice, because you're a strong woman and I’m a feminist.”

You laugh, but not at him. That was… the cutest fucking thing.

“Should we go back to the group?” Adrian asks, but whether it's his actual tone or just your margarita fueled hope, he sounds like he’s asking that question more because it's something he's seen as socially acceptable and not because he wants to.

“Maybe in a bit, I like getting to talk to you alone,” you admit, your hand drifting closer to his on the counter, almost close enough to touch.

“Okay, I might be wrong, and if I am you can just punch me or call me a creep but…”

You lift your margarita up to your lips, eyebrows arched at him and silently urging him to continue.

“Are we flirting?” Confusion is evident on his face, but there's something else there too… enthusiasm? Excitement?

But yes, yes, God fucking dammit yes you want to say the moment youre done with this sip, you want to scream for the entire bar to know you are in fact hitting on Adrian Chase.

But just as your fingertips brush his knuckles, you're interrupted.

“Hey,” Chris slides into the space to stand between yours and Adrian’s barstools, “You seeing anyone?”

You look confused between Chris and Adrian until you start to see Adrian’s brows furrow behind the wire rims of his aviator glasses.

When you realize the question is directed at you, you splutter into your margarita, some of it splashing up into your nose. Holy fuck, that stings.

“Dude, what the fuck…” you hear Adrian mumble, but all you see is red. Chris is playing a dangerous game, with Emilia in the room and you wanting to be able to explode him with your mind right now. You had Adrian right there, you were about to make the move, you were about to do it and then he had to come and ruin it. Cockblocker of the century in all his muscled glory.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you confirm not at all trying to hide the venom in your voice, and then add, “Emilia is right over there dude, what kind of fucking game are you playing?”

Emilia and Chris have been sniffing around each other for months now, not unlike… well, not unlike the way you and Adrian have lately. What on earth could his stupid reasoning be for hitting on you in front of her? Of course, he has the audacity of looking shocked at your questions, as if you’re the ridiculous one in this situation.

“You know, I just figured if I bought you a drink and she got jealous she would finally want to… you know…” Chris verbalizes, slowing down when he hears how this plan sounds once it's out of his mouth.

“Oh.”

“Uh huh. You think that’ll work on someone like Harcourt? I mean, where did you even get that plan, a Disney Channel Original Movie?”

Even if Harcourt wasn’t exactly in shape to murder him right now between physical therapy appointments and 'taking it easy', you know she would emotionally eviscerate him. You look over his shoulder to try to get Adrian’s attention, only to see him ordering another Miller Lite and fully ignoring what’s going on between you and Chris. Fuck, shit. You can see your window of opportunity closing in on you.

“Listen, some of those DCOMs are solid movies. Camp Rock? Lemonade Mouth?”

Chris is wildly serious about this.

“I’m literally going to kill you,” you seethe, before downing your drink.

“Oh my god,” Chris exclaims, and then looks between the two of you.

“Oh my god,” he repeats, “Did I interrupt something?”

The people on the stools in front of him paint a story: you about to jump off of your stool to strangle him, and Adrian, equally and uncharacteristically agitated sipping his beer and refusing to make eye contact with either of you.

“Oh, I definitely did. You and him? Really? Are you—“

“Get out of here!” you shout, and he finally gets the hint to head back to his not-girlfriend. He nods and tips the neck of his beer towards you in salute and you slam your glass down onto the counter so hard you could have broken it.

Chris walks awkwardly back, not quite a run but not a walk either— he knows you and Emilia are going to have a chat about this later and he knows he’ll hear all about it. You and Emilia are funny that way, you don’t judge her for being into Chris, and she doesn’t judge that you’ve hooked up with two guys named Adrian even though you’ve sworn to her that you totally don’t like Adrian and there’s nothing there. The two of you only text about it at least twice a week.

Adebayo shoots you a weird look from her place next to Emilia at the L-shaped bar, one that has you confused until you realize she’s looking just past you.

Adrian is seething, curled lip like a bad Elvis impersonation and all. You’ve actually never seen him angry, you realize.

You've seen him annoyed, dejected, worried, that kicked puppy look, but never angry. He’s angry at Chris and there isn't much of a way to interpret this other than he wanted to hear your answer to his question. But would he even want it now?

“Adrian?” you ask, hand reaching again for him but finding the space on the counter it once inhabited empty.

“Adrian?” you repeat a little more sharply, and he finally looks at you, his gaze instantly softening. The anger is still there, but his face shows it's not directed at you.

“If your drink was empty would you have let him buy you one?” his tone is low and even, and you recognize this as a tone he’s only donned when he’s in Vigilante mode.

“No, are you kidding?” you ask, exasperated by all of this interruption in your plan.

“No?” the confusion is evident in his voice.

“No,” you clarify, “I don't want Chris to buy me a drink. Ever. Ew.”

“Is it because of Emilia?” he asks innocently, either choosing not to read your signals or just trying to figure out friend-code.

“No. I mean, yes I wouldn't do that to her. But I wouldn't want Chris no matter what.”

He nods, and seems to understand.

Your answer hangs in the air, though. As if he doesn't know how to parse this territory. You've eased his obvious worries but maybe he needs you to be a bit obvious with making the first move.

Here goes nothing.

You turn your glass up, tilting your head back as you finish it and immediately slam it back on the counter. You look to Adrian expectantly, crossing your legs as your skirt rides up even higher on your thighs. You don't miss the way his eyes dart downward.

“Buy me a drink, Adrian?”

His eyes snap back up to your face.

“You want another one?”

“I want you to buy me a drink,” you assert, “And yes, we were flirting before Chris interrupted.”

There's no way he could misinterpret that. His face contorts in a few different ways, at first in a twinge of anger, then confusion, then realization before settling in an easy smile, wide and he nods at you.

“Cool, I was hoping we were. I’ve been wanting to flirt with you for a while,” he admits trying to sound calm, while wildly waving his hand to get the bartenders attention.

The bartender comes over quickly, knowing your team and how they act, that’s probably in his best interest.

“This lovely lady that I’m flirting with would like a third and final margarita please! And put her other two drinks on my tab too, that’s what actual nice guys do,” he asserts, and watches carefully as the bartender makes your drink, his typical guarding of your drinks not changing even though he doesn’t get up off of his barstool to physically shield you and your drink.

“My other drinks too? Oh my, are you trying to get lucky tonight?” you joke, but god are you flattered. The margaritas here are not super cheap, and your wifi bill is due.

“Yes?” He confirms it, but frames it like a question.

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to get lucky,” he confirms, then realizes what he’s said, “With you. I want to get lucky with you.”

“Good, me too,” you agree, taking a sip of your last margarita.

“Hashtag me too,” you hear him mumble, a weird little habit you've noticed he picked up. You lick the salt from the rim again, and this time he audibly groans. You arch your eyebrow and do it again, this time taking your time to flatten your tongue along the rim of the glass to get the margarita salt. He digs his fingers into the material of his jeans covering his thigh, and you watch his knuckles turn white. God, if only that was his hand around your neck and…

“It makes me so hard when you do that, you have to stop doing that. Or at least stop doing that in public,” Adrian admits through gritted teeth, and you take pity on him, grabbing his hand from off of his leg and entwining it in your own.

“Good to know, I’ll only order margaritas when you're about to take me home from now on.”

His hand squeezes yours.

“I don't know if you're joking but every time you order a margarita I want to take you home,” his tone is deadly serious, and his eyes don't even hide the way they rake up and down your body anymore.

“I’ll keep that in mind and use it to my advantage,” you say, taking the initiative to sip your drink a little faster than the others tonight. Not to get drunk, but so that you can get into his Sebring faster and get actually alone with him.

“I love this outfit,” Adrian says, and it's awkward, but honest. Flirting is… not his thing as far as you can tell, but damn if it is not working on you anyway.

“Yeah?” you ask, a coy smile as you finish off what you're going to drink of the margarita.

Adrian leans in close, so close you can smell his deodorant.

“Love how easy it’ll be to take off,” he clarifies, whispering in your ear.

What do you even say to that? You don't know, how he manganese so often to leave you speechless, so you just dip your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder and hum.

His other hand releases his now empty Miller bottle and pulls you back gently by the shoulder.

“Hey, why are you pouting?”

You hadn't even realized you were.

“Take me home, Adrian.”

You don't have to tell him twice. He slides himself off the barstool before literally lifting you off of yours, being careful not to lift you too high so your skirt wouldn't flash anyone before putting you back down.

“Bye guys!” Adrian shouts, “We’re going to go back home to our own homes! I’m not going to kiss her once were outside!”

You can’t even feel embarrassed at how Adrian announces your departure because once again his hand is in yours and guiding you. You wave bye to everyone with your free hand, heat rising in your cheeks as you try to hide the fact that you want to smile until your face aches.

He barely gets the door open before hes grabbing you close and kissing you, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

It's better than you could have ever imagined. In the many times youve thought about kissing Adrian, you've imagined him eager, enthusiastic, sloppy, fast, but never so achingly desperate. He kisses slowly, like how time moves during a car crash, lips moving hard and deliberate against your own to pull more, more, more, from you.

When he retreats, your lips follow his before you come back down to earth.

“Wow,” you gasp, “I've been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Not as long as I have,” he retorts, that seriousness still evident in his tone. Holy shit.

“Let's get the fuck out of here, please.”

He wastes no further time bringing you back to where you parked earlier, opening the door for you before trotting around the car to the driver’s side and basically jamming his key into the ignition.

He gets out of the parking lot and onto the main road before your heart drops. Fuck. Your underwear. Your awkward ugly mismatched set. The bra that's his uniform colors but the basic black panties that match okay but not enough to be sexy.

“Hey, can I be honest with you?” you blurt out before you can really think about what you're saying.

Adrian tenses up, and hits the brakes a little too sudden for the light changing ahead of you.

“Were you not being honest with me before?”

Fuck, shit, fuck wrong wording.

“No! I mean yes, I was being honest before. It's just…” You try to parse the right words, “I had this planned, to make a move on you. I wanted to impress you.”

“Everything you do impresses me,” he interrupts, and you quickly thank him before you continue.

“But I had this whole outfit, and then a very specific underwear set I wanted to wear in case I was, you know, successful,” you sigh, “But the underwear I was going to wear that matched with the bra went missing, so if you want to like, ignore all this you can.”

You gesture to your outfit and your body awkwardly, not used to feeling so unsure of yourself, but Adrian makes you feel like a schoolgirl with a weird crush again.

He's silent for a bit, focusing on the road and making his way to his apartment building as fast as he can while still following all of the traffic laws.

“Was it the black and teal set?” he finally cuts the silence, and your blood runs cold. You knew he had the underwear, but you weren't about to call him out about his tweet further than the comment about them missing.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit quietly, now trying to look anywhere but at the profile of his handsome face.

“Do you want them back? I can like, hand them back to you and you can go change if you want when we get back to my place?” he asks like it's a normal situation you find yourselves in. Not a ‘coworkers that make weird moves on each other on twitter through nude videos and strategic likes' situation.

“Hey, look at me,” he commands gently, noticing your silence.

You turn to him, and there's this blissful little smile on his face; he’s looking at you like you hang the moon and stars.

“You're not as discreet on twitter as you think you are, but I’m really glad you didnt find it gross,” his voice is wavering a little, like he’s nervous to be saying this. Fuck, you knew you werent as fast on that scroll past his video the other morning. You're just glad he’s not disgusted by you, the fact that he knows, that you're both a little perverted and he accepts it. If he can accept it so can you.

“I’m glad you didnt find me gross either,” you admit, a little less bold than you had been.

Adrian scoffs.

“Are you kidding? A hot woman like you liking videos of me? Did you get off to me?” he asks eagerly.

“Maybe…” you admit, a little coy, a little more confident again.

“Maybe?”

“Okay yes,” you admit, finding the courage to reach out and touch his forearm, “I did. More than a little.”

“Good!” his arm slides from where it’s on the wheel to place his hand very carefully on your bare thigh, ‘I definitely got off knowing you were watching.”

You feel hot all over knowing that, the confirmation that the tweets were about you even though you knew they were. That there was no possibility they were about that new hostess at Fennel Fields, and that he was getting off at the thought of you seeing them.

“Can I ask how you knew they were me?” you ask, you hand enveloping his and pushing it up your thigh to flirt with the hem of your skirt.

“That was easy,” he says, not even looking at you as he squeezes your thigh, before dipping his fingertips closer to the inside of your thigh, “Your twitter name was a Fargo reference. You're my Fargo buddy.”

You really should have been more subtle with that, but you don't find yourself giving a shit when his calloused fingers are running themselves up and down your inner thigh and he pulls the car into his apartment’s parking lot.

“Fuck,” you whisper, his pinky just barely brushing under the hem of your skirt.

“I know, you should have been more sneaky,” he agrees, even though that's not what you were reacting to.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “Just get me upstairs, Adrian.”

He throws the car in park and gets out as hastily as possible.

He jogs around to your side of the car and this time you actually open the door yourself.

“You don't actually want me to shut up, right?” he asks as you climb out of the car, legs a little shaky from nerves and arousal.

“Of course not,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I dont want you to hold back in any way.”

#adrian chase x reader

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

don't make the sounds

See my full list of works here!

Summary: During a press junket interview, Tom uses one of the questions addressed to him to his advantage and distracts you from your peculiar mood.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: implied smut/talks of smutty intentions (either way minors & pearl clutchers dni); reader with body image issues [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: slight dom vibes from Tom; hints of the starts of a Daddy kink if you squint

"Heads up, tiny terror, this next interviewer's got the hots for your man," Chris told you as he sat down on the chair next to yours, extending a plate of fries towards you. "You want some?"

You gratefully took a piece and nibbled at the end of it, earning a look of consternation from your Australian friend. "What else is new?" you grumbled. "Every woman who came through this room today has found some way, shape, or form to disrespect me. Oh you must be the assistant's intern. Oh you must be the publicist's assistant. Oh you must be the coffee runner. Bitch fuck off," you whispered with a hiss.

"They're really playing clueless that you're none other than the girlfriend, huh?" he chuckled, brow still furrowed at the sight of you nibbling at the end of your first fry. "Okay, Y/N what is this?" He motioned at your nibbling. "Who are you and what've you done with my eating buddy?"

You took a bigger bite off your fry. "Your eating buddy's getting fat. Beginning to look unworthy of being Tom's girlfriend. At least that's what these hateful bitches think; they've been eyeing my stomach for the last three hours like I'm four months pregnant or something."

"If you are that's one tiny baby, so he must take after you." You swatted his arm in response. "Honestly, Y/N, this is ridiculous, I've eaten half this plate and you're still on your first piece, at least finish that one off it's way past its life expectancy." You quickly popped the tiny remainder of the fry into your mouth. "Atta girl. Now get another piece."

"No," you whispered in response. "I just don't wanna give these people any ammunition to report back to their knitting circles going wow what a pig. I'll eat when his interviews are over, I promise."

"Alright, Tom we could take a quick pause. Have a sip of water, idle chitchat, maybe?" Your hairs stood up on end at the obvious flirtatious tone of the interviewer. God grant me patience because if you grant me strength, you better send over some bail money as well.

"Thanks." You turned your attention back to your boyfriend in the chair. "Y/N, darling?" You perked up your eyes trying to feign composure. "Are you alright?" he mouthed.

"Fine. I'm fine, sweetie." You kept on nodding your head, as if you were trying to convince even yourself that you were alright, which was more than enough of an indicator to him that you most certainly were not. You felt a sharp pang of guilt as you watched him stand up and walk over to you, framing your face in his hands.

"Something's wrong, I can see it all over your face. The crease between your brows gives you away, my darling." He then proceeded to press a kiss between your brows, making you let out an exhale, feeling your body relax.

"Our dear Y/N has concerns about her figure. Something about her looking unworthy of being with you," Chris volunteered the information. "Today hasn't been very kind to her. So please, Tom, tell her she's being ridiculous because she sure as hell won't listen to me."

"Why are we friends again, Hemsworth?" you groaned.

"Y/N. Darling, look at me." You opened your eyes, feeling even more guilty as you saw the evident concern on Tom's features. "Is this true?" He took your hands in his and gently tugged you out of your seat and up on your feet before loosely wrapping his arms around your waist.

"He's--exaggerating, I'm fine, sweetie. Really." You placed your hands on his upper arms, trying to soothe his concern by lightly rubbing your hands up and down his arms, the guilt ratcheting up in you as you felt him remain tense under your touch.

"Oh, my darling." He pulled you to him, leaning down to place a soft, loving kiss on your lips. "My gorgeous, precious, perfect girl. I could speak volumes about how I'm enraptured by you." He pulled you flush against him and he pressed his lips to your ear. "But most of those words are meant to be whispered against your bare skin as I worship you in the privacy of our bedroom, my love."

"You two horndogs better remember you've got company," you heard Chris whine from behind you.

You felt as much as heard Tom's low chuckle against your ear, the reverberations traveling all over your body and causing wave of arousal to pool between your legs. He pressed a kiss by your ear before placing his hand at the back of your head, holding you in place as he slanted his mouth over yours, tongue slipping into your mouth and briefly gliding against yours in a heated kiss cut way too short as he pulled away a few mere moments later.

"To be continued, darling," he murmured against your lips with one final kiss before walking back to his seat, visibly struggling to neutralize the satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

You slowly sank yourself back down on your seat, fully aware of your boyfriend's heated eyes on you as you did so. As the interviewer returned to her seat three feet away from him, your heart picked up as he visibly mouthed the words "I love you" your way, the expression on his face softening as his words made you smile.

"I love you," you mouthed back before he received a cue from the cameraman that they were going to roll once again in a few seconds.

The interviewer proceeded to ask him about his love for Shakespeare and tennis, making you exchange a look with the Australian to your right. "They should know better at this point than to ask him about Shakespeare or they'll be here all day," he quipped.

"Maybe that's what she wants," you shot back in a hushed tone. "I mean he could probably give the world's lengthiest dissertation on how much he loves Shakespeare." Chris chuckled at your joke.

"Hmmm…second longest. Surpassed only by a dissertation on how in love he is with you."

"Pfft. Please. He could probably give a…bachelor's degree thesis presentation on that topic. You'd be insane to think that the likes of me could beat out Billy Shakes."

"After all this time and you still don't know the magnitude of that man's devotion to you, huh." You shrugged at his comment. "Maybe one day you finally will."

The interview moved on to how much Tom loved tennis and he made little clicking sounds with his tongue that sounded more like ping pong than tennis, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. As you sipped away at your water the interviewer started doing her impression of "tennis sounds" which sounded more like they belonged in an adult film set.

You shared another look with Chris as if going "Is this chick for real?" Then he proceeded to roll his eyes back and make an exaggerated orgasm face that made you take a few deep breaths before even attempting to swallow your water at the risk of it going up your nose. "Don't do that!" you whispered, swatting his arm as you took another swig of water.

Big mistake. Because the next thing you knew, your boyfriend went full tennis nerd and decided to demonstrate what actual effort sounds were like on the court, full on grunting with his muscles tensed. And the sound jolted you so bad that you choked on your water mid-swig. You put your hand up to your mouth, staring at your friend with wide eyes as he held back his chuckles at the sight of you struggling.

Once Tom's interview wrapped up, he walked over to you with a playful smirk in his face. "Are you alright, darling?" He placed himself behind you and proceeded to rub your shoulders, searching for knots of tension he already knew would be there.

"Never make those sounds in an interview again, God dammit the internet's gonna lose their collective minds over--" Your words were cut short by his fingers weaving through your hair and pulling your head backwards with a gentle but firm tug and his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.

"The only mind I'm concerned with is yours," he said softly in a mumble with his lips still pressed to yours. "If I can't put your mind at ease from the thoughts plaguing you at the moment, then I will find a way to distract you from them." He pressed another quick kiss to your lips before releasing his hold on you, letting you sit back upright in your chair as the next interviewer walked in, and you breathed a sigh of relief that it was Josh from MTV.

"Tom, great to see you again, buddy. And you must be Y/N." He extended his hand towards you to shake.

"Hi, yeah. That's me, I'm Tom's--"

"Girlfriend. Anyone who says they don't know is lying to themself," he said with a chuckle. He looked to your right and waved at Chris. "Hey, Chris. What're you doing here?"

"Trying to get my eating buddy to eat more than a singular french fry," he answered while poking at your arm with the nearly empty plate.

At Chris's words, your boyfriend walked over to face you, taking your hands in his once again and tugging you gently to your feet. "I'd really have to recommend you eat something, darling." He stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms loosely around you and cradling your head in his hand as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "I fully intend to fuck every single one of those dark thoughts plaguing you out of your head, and I surmise that may take us well into the morning. You need your strength, because I won't have you passing out on me." He placed a tender kiss on your cheek, a stark contrast to the intent behind his words, before backing away from you and walking back toward the chair.

"You doing okay there, Y/N? You look a little frozen," Josh chuckled from his chair. "Tom what did you do to your girlfriend?"

His words shook you out of your stupor. "He was just--confirming our plans for tonight. Sorry about that, I just got a little dazed. It happens." You turned toward your friend, holding the now clean plate that once held a small hill of fries. "You wanna get something real to eat?"

"Fucking finally!" He stood up from his seat. "I don't know what you said to her, Tom, and I don't want to know, but thank you for bringing my eating buddy back to life."

"The PG version is she better go out and eat something or I'll sit her on my thigh and feed her myself." You choked on nothing but air at his words, watching as an amused scandalized look was painted on Josh's face.

"I'm going I'm going," you croaked out, tugging on Chris's sleeve as you walked out of the room.

"I'll see you in a few hours, darling. I love you," Tom called out from his seat as you stepped through the door.

"Love you!" you called from the door, and upon closing it you found the next interviewer already queued up outside, Chris sizing her up discreetly from a few feet away. She gave you a glaring once over, but you decided that at least for the day, you were done with their pettiness, and opted to simply walk past her.

Your friend, however, had other plans, deciding to address you with a booming voice. "You know, Y/N, for a second I thought you were going to say 'Yes, Daddy'," he said with a slightly obnoxious stage laugh.

"For a second there, I almost did."

A/N: I finally made something out of the tennis sounds gifset haha!

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston smut #muddyorbs writes

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years

Text

what are we going to be for halloween?

gareth emerson x fem!reader

word count: 2,166

warnings: flirty little shithead gareth, gareth likes boobs, halloween!! sweet sweet kissy fluff, mentions of smoking?? some ass touching, candy eating

a/n: i LOVE this gif. "pussies? really? because we're not delusional?" something about the way he drags out the "uuuuu" makes me crazy. anyway, i really, really like this!! i hope you do too!! <33

————

October 1988

You're on your back, reading on the couch, book resting against the top of your stomach, just under your chest. You register Gareth walk around in front of you, but you're not really paying him any attention.

Something that he's clearly had enough of.

Gareth walks toward you, and gets onto the couch, wiggling about until he is settled between your legs, head on your tummy, hands tucked under his chin. He rubs his knee up and down your calf as best as he can from the odd angle.

From where he's laying, he cannot see your face--only the book cover and your hands. But lucky for him, your hair is splayed out within his grasp, and he reaches for a strand, giving it a gentle and curious sniff.

"Your hair smells good."

"Wow, thank you, Gareth. It’s almost like that’s what happens when someone washes their hair," you retort.

"You’re such a little shit, you know that? Such a smartass."

You lift the book from its resting place, looking down at him. His cheek rests on his hand, and he grins up at you, looking like a mischievous toddler.

"You think I’ve got a smart ass? Just showering me with compliments today, huh?" He moves a hand, stroking it down your side and wriggling it under you to give your ass a squeeze, making you yelp. The look on his face tells you he's very proud of himself, and you lower your book again so that he is blocked from view.

"Rude," he proclaims. You reach down and lightly slap his ass in return.

"I'd come over here to ask you a question, and now you go about, abusing my delicate rear end? The nerve."

You ignore his dramatics. "Ask the question, Emerson."

"What are we going to be for Halloween?"

That was a good question. You'd been thinking it over for a while, but you needed to make the decision soon in order to have time to prepare for the holiday.

"Huh." You mark your page and close your book, leaning a little to set it on the table opposite the couch.

"Well..." you trail off, patting your chest to signal that you want Gareth closer, for him to scoot up.

"We could be Ferris and Cameron. Or you could be Bender and I could be Claire. You've got the flannel for that. But we don't have to be a pair, you know. It could be individual. I could be Wednesday, or maybe just Allison because you know Andrew pisses me off. Or like, Elvira."

Gareth sat up at that one, straddling your hips. "Don't tease me like that." He had the hots for Elvira, Mistress of The Dark, and you didn't even blame him in the slightest. She was hot and there was no denying that.

"Gare, I haven't got half the boobs for that. It was just an idea.” He looked offended, seriously hurt.

"Hey! Don't say that about them! You're gonna hurt their feelings!"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Stop conversing with my boobs, Gareth."

"I love your boobs. You'd be such a hot Elvira. Really!" You crossed your arms over your chest, not believing him, and hoping he'd forget about the suggestion. He could tell that you thought it might be fun, but then he saw the moment your insecurities shoved their way to the frontline of your thoughts. "We could be Seymour and Audrey."

"Jesus, Gareth. You really want my boobs out, don't you?"

"I love them. They're so nice to me, baby."

————

You’d settled on being Ferris and Cameron. While Gareth really liked the idea of you dressing up in something sexy, he wanted you to be comfortable and happy. So you’d tucked the Elvira idea away for next year, or maybe just for Gareth.

Gareth’s stepdad had an old Flyers jersey lying around, which he was kind enough to let Gareth borrow. You watched him button the khaki pants he’d found during one of your thrift store visits, noticing how good his thighs looked in them.

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” You looked up at him from your perch on his bed, and he smiled at you. “C’mere.” He moved to his dresser, picking up his wallet and making sure the chain was still attached securely.

You stood in front of him and lifted your jacket a little for him. He slipped his wallet into your back pocket, hooking the other end of the chain to one of your belt loops. “I see why you think that’s hot now. Looks way better on you.”

Gareth leaned down to peck you once on the lips and then again on the cheek, making you blush.

You looked in his mirror, kind of agreeing with him, and thinking you might have to get one for yourself.

The two of you stood there in your finished costumes, looking rather cute. You’d gone to all of the local thrift stores repeatedly until you found everything you needed, your Ferris costume proving much more difficult than his Cameron.

You’d found a vest a close as possible to his, and some pants for cheap. The best part was that Steve had a jacket that looked almost identical to Ferris,’ and you were suddenly very thankful he was preppier than you. He’s agreed to let you borrow it, trusting you wouldn’t spill anything on it.

You’d borrowed a white shirt for underneath from Gareth, after discovering you didn’t own anything that wasn’t a dark color. You were lucky he had one that he slept in sometimes when he decided to wear a shirt to bed.

You realized the only part of your outfit that was yours were your shoes, but nevertheless the both of you looked very very sweet.

Gareth wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder. “Does kissing in these costumes mean we’ve changed the plot of the movie?”

“Yeah, but that’s how it should’ve been anyways,” you laughed. “Ferris and Cameron were in love and I’m a firm believer in that.”

————

“Where to next?” Gareth asked, driving in the direction of the rich neighborhoods.

You’d already hit all the houses on his street, skirting around all the other teens and their siblings or friends, ignoring the comments from neighbors he knew about whether or not the two of you were too old to be trick-or-treating.

You hadn’t cared in the slightest, wanting to revel in the child-like escapades of Halloween before you officially weren’t a teenager anymore.

“Word on the street is that the people in Loch Nora give out full sized candy bars.” Word on the street being Dustin and his knowledge of the best places to get candy.

“Sold.”

————

Gareth was walking next to you, pillowcase slung over his shoulder, other hand in his pocket. You were looking at him, taking in the way the street lights glinted off the tip of his nose, the way his cupid’s blow shined. You’d never been happier.

You tore your gaze away from him, reaching into your pumpkin bucket and digging around for the Nerds some soccer mom had given you earlier.

It was getting later, the streets having turned fully teen territory now, and Gareth reached to tug you closer to him because of the crowd. You tore open the little pink box, shaking some into your mouth, and then noticed how close you were to him, having been occupied with your candy. He was looking right at you.

“What?” You inquired.

“I want some.” You held the box aloft and he opened his mouth, stopping walking to you let you shake some out.

“Thank you.” He kissed you, and tasted like cherry.

He stayed still after you started to walk again, your eye on a particularly big house with loads of decorations. You noticed and moved back to him.

“You’re so pretty,” he told you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” Gareth said. He grinned at the way you blushed under the orange string lights hanging from someone’s carport.

“I love you too, Cam.” He leaned in and kissed you, short and sweet, and then let you practically run off in search of more sugar—which he knew you didn’t need.

After a little while longer, another rich neighborhood, and an alarmingly full pillowcase that might’ve started to rip, you decided to call it a night with the trick-or-treating.

You did decide to drive around for a while, looking at Halloween decorations.

“I’m gonna have to get a better job than the record store if we’re gonna be able to afford our own decorations. Bet we could have the best yard in all of Hawkins.” Gareth noticed you were quiet, and turned to look at you.

“You said ‘we.’ You wanna live with me?” You hesitantly asked.

He looked at you like it was obvious. “‘Course I do. Someday. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, Gare, I would.”

————

“You’re gonna have to spare some Whoppers. I promised Eddie I’d save him some.” The both of you were sitting on his living room floor, raiding your candy stash that you’d now dumped on the carpet.

“He should’ve come with us then. Gotten his own candy.” You stuck your tongue out at him, popping another chocolate ball in your mouth.

Gareth was now searching for anything with white chocolate in it, knowing you hated that shit, and so did he, setting it aside for his sisters, who did like it. The Lost Boys was playing in the background, but you weren’t paying attention, having seen it more than was healthy.

“No. I’m glad it was just the two of us tonight. I like being with you.” You watched him open a pack of chocolate cigarettes, putting one in between his lips. “You can’t yell at me about these, they won’t kill me.”

He held the pack out to you, and you took one, chewing as he closed it and tossed it on the floor. “I’m glad it was just the two of us too, by the way.”

He grinned at you, leaning in and waiting for a kiss. You planted one on his forehead and he pouted. “Noo, you missed!” You tried for a cheek. Then he got sick of your games and put both hands on the sides of your face, kissing you with a loud enough “Mwah!” to make you roll your eyes at him.

————

The two of you scooped up the remainder of your candy and carried it upstairs to his room in order to save it from the other mouths in his house.

You started to strip off the layers of your costume, setting Steve’s jacket carefully on the desk chair in Gareth’s room.

Gareth walked over when he realized you were changing clothes, unhooking the wallet chain for you. “Thank you,” you said, unbuttoning your vest.

You stepped out of your pants, watching Gareth pull the jersey over his head and toss it across the room. He then untangled his necklace from his hair, and your eyes fell to his tummy. His tummy.

You ducked down planting kisses on his soft squish and carding your fingers through his happy trail. “You have problems,” he said.

You kept going, and then realized that his thighs were right there, and they looked oh so good in those pants, so you gave them a squeeze.

“No problems. Just love you.” Another belly kiss, another thigh rub.

His cheeks went red, and you left him to dig in your bag for pajamas. “No. Nope. Stop that. Wear something of mine, please, I beg of you.”

You pulled his shirt off over your head and waited for him to pick something new out, but he got sidetracked looking at your chest. “Hey, my eyes are up here, dipshit.”

“I told you I love your boobies,” he said, tossing a Motörhead shirt at you.

“Don’t say boobies, Gareth.”

He giggled. “I like your boobies and I’m proud of it, so I’ll say boobies if I please. Pants or no?”

“Please. It’s cold in here.” He tossed a pair of old pajama pants at you, and then slipped into sweats himself. He turned around, and groaned at the sight of you in his clothes.

“Ughh. I love you.”

He grabbed your hand, leading you to his bed, snuggling under the covers with you.

He slipped his hand underneath your shirt rubbing your belly, and you took the chance to do the same, not missing the way his lips quirked up.

You leaned in. “I wanna spend all the rest of the Halloweens with you.”

He smiled fully at you, happy and warm. “Right back at you, baby.”

You leaned in, kissing him slowly, a warm press of your lips against his. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, and you let him in for a moment before pulling away.

“I love you, Gareth.”

“I love you too, sweet thing.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #halloween fic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader #gareth emerson x female reader #corroded coffin #ferris bueller's day off #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson fic #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson fluff #savannah’s fics

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dawn-moths · 11 months

Note

Can i ask for 21 and 18 for Dabi/Touya? Daddy pls/j🥺

haha ok i got u 💕

prompt: brushing through the other's hair while talking & developing own terms for everything

character: dabi/touya (boku no hero academia)

words: 1100+

content warning: no warnings apply! just some cute, innocent fluff.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Wow…” you remark, fingers loosely threaded through Dabi’s inky spikes. “I’m actually surprised, y’know. I thought you’d have a lot more knots and tangles.”

From where his head is resting in your lap, Dabi tilts his face slightly more your way, half-lidded cobalt gaze meeting yours. He looks serene like this, all relaxed and pliable as he rests between your gently folded legs, but as the ghost of a smirk tugs up at one corner of his scarred lips, a spark of mischief wiggles its way in.

“Why?” he asks. Simple. Like he’s testing you.

Your soothing, stroking motions cease for a moment, staring down at him with a flicker of guilt. “I dunno,” you shrug, breaking eye contact for a second as you sarcastically roll your eyes. “Maybe because I’ve never seen you do anything to your hair besides embrace perpetual bedhead?”

At this, he puffs out a small breath of a laugh, lazily amused at your little quip.

“Yeah, and why would I…?” Reaching a big, slender fingered hand up to cup the smooth skin of your cheek, he concludes with, “When I have someone who’ll comb their fingers through it whenever I ask?”

The sincerity of the comment flusters you for a moment, but then you’re wearing that soft, sweet smile reserved only for him and melting further into his rough palm, eyes fluttering shut as you sigh against his familiar touch.

“I let you get away with too much,” you joke, continuing your rhythmic combing through his course dark hair, the first flurries of his natural snow white color just beginning to show at the roots. “Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to dye it for you too.”

Dabi gives that some thought, then he says, voice dropping to a low, sated lull, “Y’know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” which earns him a teasing pull on his hair as you curl a loose fist through the strands and gently tug. “What?” He chuckles, beginning to reach further back to twine his fingers through your own hair, mimicking your tender ministrations the best he can from his current position. “Don’t like the idea of having your hands stained blue for weeks on end?”

If it was for you, you want to say, I wouldn’t mind at all. But what comes out instead is, “Better watch out or you might end up with neon blue in the end, if I feel like messing with you that day.”

“Oh, if you feel like messing with me, huh?” Dabi playfully mocks, winning another one of those melodic giggles from you, the kind he lives for. The kind that makes him forget, even if just for one fleeting moment in time, all the hardship he’s had to endure up until now. Will likely have to endure in the future to come. “You’d be in for one hell of a payback for that.”

You and him mutter some harmless banter back and forth for a little while longer until eventually a silence falls over you again. It’s the kind that almost had Dabi dozing off before you’d made the comment about his hair, the kind that keeps you mesmerized enough that you could absentmindedly comb through his spikes all afternoon.

“I wish things could stay like this forever…” you murmur under your breath, so quiet you’re not even sure Dabi heard you, the way his eyes are once again closed and his breathing is slow and shallow, no doubt on the precipice of unconsciousness.

But then he sighs out, without opening his eyes, “Me too…”

A couple seconds pass and then his head is reluctantly lifting from your lap, shifting his position to sit upright. You let out a small whine of protest but he’s quick to beckon you back into his arms, your back resting against his chest and feeling safe and comforted as his body heat seeps through the fabric of your clothes, cradling you in warmth.

“You know we gotta make that supply run today…” he reminds you, pulling you both back to the reality that is being a bunch of wanted criminals hiding out with not much to their names, having to sneak around the city and steal cheap food from convenience stores just to survive week to week, sometimes even day to day.

“Yeah, I know…” you mutter, not trying to hide your blatant not wanting to make that supply run today. You nuzzle your head closer into the crook of his neck and say, “Sphynx will have a meltdown if we’re not back before sundown…”

Dabi smirked to himself, then said, “Well we can ask Ragdoll to come along. She’s been complaining about being cooped up in here for too long…”

Now it was your turn to smile. Because it had been your idea to code name the other members of the League as different cat breeds. At first, Dabi scoffed at your little game, asked you why, so you’d just shrugged and answered, “Because it’s fun,” and then, after a moment’s hesitation and a devious expression forming on your face, you added, “And this way we can talk about people without them knowing, if they decide to listen in.”

And so the joke had stuck.

Tomura was, obviously, “Sphynx”, Toga was “Ragdoll”, after she’d caught wind of your guys’ inside joke and wanted to choose her own breed to be referred by. As for the others, Jin was “Persian”, Spinner was “Devon Rex”, Atsuhiro was “Russian Blue”, and Kurogiri was “Bombay”.

Just for fun, you’d assigned one to Dabi— “Calico”— and for you, you’d chosen “Siamese”.

There had even been a few times when Tomura had been nearby while you two had been talking about him, butting in to ask, “Who the hell’s Sphynx?” only for you and Dabi to exchange smug glances and then reply, “No one. Don’t worry about it,” and then try to contain your laughter until he walked away lest you blow your entire cover.

It was just some silly, harmless fun, but it helped make the dingy, mundane, day to day of slumping around the bar that was currently serving as the main HQ a little more bearable, so Dabi didn’t mind playing along.

“Guess we should get ready to head out…” Dabi looked down at you, now settled in his lap, and quirked up one dark brow, “Don’cha think?”

You hummed out a twinkling giggle, Dabi’s heart stuttering a beat at such a genuine, jovial sound. You said, “If we have to. But this time you’re gonna be on lookout while I grab the goods. Deal, Calico?”

He flashed a grin that was half challenging, half proud. “Deal, Siamese.”

He’d taught you almost everything you knew, since you’d been taken in by the League. He felt pride in knowing, for as sweet as you were with him when you two were alone, he’d also been the one to corrupt you, in one way or another.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

send me a number from this prompt list + one of the characters i write for and i’ll write a short lil something for you 💕

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giggly-squiggily · 11 months

Note

I wanna try and request hehe-

Lee!Todoroki and Ler!Sero pls

Have a nice night/day!

Oo, a rarepair! And the opportunity to break out my "Sero is a rhythm king" headcanon! Anon, I've gotcha covered! Have a fabulous day/night yourself! :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn, @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022, @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @nutzgunray-lvt, @sarahmaystock5578

Todoroki wasn’t much of a dancer. He didn’t really know how to move his body to music and was too spiteful of his old man to take the ballroom lessons seriously. Whenever he was invited to a dance he either hovered by the walls or just kinda..shuffled.

Sero on the other hand- he moved like silk. Every beat he landed, be it a fast song or something slow. Mina once said something about “Natural flow”, that it was “like he was made of water.”

Todoroki never witnessed a body of water move its hips the way Sero was doing now but he trusted Mina’s word for it.

Upbeat music blared through Sero’s speaker as the tape hero danced in the kitchen, washing dishes and dancing about. He sang along with the songs he knew, but spent most of the song just groovin, putting a spell on Todoroki who came for tea and ended up leaning against the doorway to watch. Something about the sight made him want to join in- to take Sero by the waist and match his rhythm.

Of course he’d absolutely butcher the whole thing, so he stayed put.

Sero suddenly turned, eyes flashing as they met Todoroki’s. The half-and-half hero straightened, flushing some at being caught. “Oh I was just-”

And just like that- Sero’s hands grabbed him, pulling him forward and into the center of the kitchen. “Dance with me!” He grinned, smiling like the sun.

“I-er…don’t know how.” Todoroki confessed, cheeks warming in shame at Sero’s shocked expression. “Sorry.”

“No, no! It’s okay.” Sero reached out, grabbing his phone. After a few skips, he settled on a song that fell between the faster songs he was dancing to and a slower one. “I’ll teach you!”

“Huh-?” Todoroki yelped as he was suddenly pulled forward, pressed against his boyfriend’s chest as a hand found his lower back, supporting him. The other slipped into his hand, squeezing it gently as Sero smiled at him. “I might step on your toes.”

“It’s worth it.” This close, he could see the dark brown in Sero’s eyes, framed by far too pretty lashes. “You can step on my feet a hundred times if you need to.”

“Wow, my hero.” Todoroki laughed, feeling his heart skip. He willed himself to relax, pushing away all the things he was suddenly hyper aware about. “Um…so how do we start?”

“Follow my lead.” Sero grinned before shifting his weight, leading them around the kitchen in a slow pace. During this time, he gave soft spoken instructions to Todoroki, where to put his feet and how to shift his body so it matched with Sero. If he hurt from any accidental toe stomps, he didn’t say, carrying on with the patience of a saint.

Todoroki on the other hand felt himself getting frustrated. He felt like a puppet on strings, too stiff to melt in Sero’s hold but too loose to actually sync up. Everytime he stepped on his toes he winced in guilt, further stiffening his posture until eventually he stepped away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry- this isn’t working.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Sero asked, a hint of concern touching his voice. The half-and-half hero felt his heart crack.

“No, you’re perfect- I just…I can’t dance, Sero.” He slumped, shaking his head. “I’m too stiff for this kind of thing. Sorry.”

“Hm.” Sero rocked on his heels in thought, rubbing his chin. “I think you’re right. You’re far too stiff.” He smiled then, something new touching his eyes. “We just gotta help you loosen up.” Shimmying his shoulders he sashayed over to Todoroki, doing a little dance around him. “Get those bones moving!”

“I don’t know how-” Todoroki began, but any argument in his voice was zapped away when Sero’s fingers jabbed his ribs from behind. “Ah!”

“Sure you do! Just gotta let loose!” Sero teased from behind, poking and prodding along his boyfriend’s sides as he circled him. “Shake out your shoulders, wiggle a bit; that’ll give the music room to get in there.”

“Shehehehero! Thihihihis ihihihisn’t hehehehelping!” Todoroki wheezed, squirming in place as he tried helplessly to bat away the hands tickling and jabbing at him. “Yohohohoohu’re tihiihihihckling mehehehehehehe!”

“Hm? What? Nah, I’m just poking holes into you so the music can get in.” Sero stopped before him, easily grabbing Todoroki’s waist and kneading the spot along his hips. “It’s all in these bad boys. You gotta learn to move them if you wanna dance good!”

“AH! AHehahahahahhaa, Shehehehehhero dohohoohoohn’t!” Todoroki yelped with a cackle, doubling over as he tried grabbing Sero’s hands. The brunette simply closed the distance, one hand still squeezing his hip and waist while the other came up to his hand, trapping one as he began swinging them around the kitchen once more. “Stahahhahahaap! I’m lohohoohohoohoohohoosened!”

“Hmm, are you sure about that?” Sero teased, humming to the new song that came on as he gave Todoroki’s ribs one last tickle, slowly easing him into their original dancing position as the other gasped for air. “Well, you certainly feel looser. Can you stand?”

“Ehehe…hehehehe…yhehahahah…” Todoroki straightened some, regaining his footing but keeping his knees bent as Sero instructed. “Thiihis…thihihihs isn’t so bad…”

“See? I knew you had it in you.” Sero winked before twirling the other boy, breaking out some new moves that left his boyfriend in a soft fit of giggles as he dipped him back. “Can I have this dance?”

“We’re already dancing though!” Just as he said this, the music changed. Something soft and sweet and all too familiar began to play through the speakers. “But I suppose one more song wouldn’t hurt.”

Sero smiled, warm like the sun. They carried on waltzing in the kitchen, the tape hero singing along with the lyrics in a hushed voice as Todoroki leaned into his shoulder, truly entranced.

Thanks for reading!

#mha/bnha #tickle #tickle fic #fluff #sero hanta #todoroki shouto #seroroki #rarepair #dancing #we're groovin tonight #*cricket twerks*

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dozing-marshmallow · 7 months

Note

Can you do some fluffy Chris x non-binary!reader where the reader is a 19-20 year old camper on the island, please? ^v^

Sorry If you’re getting too many requests and this is annoying! :(

It’s okay, my love! Your request wasn’t annoying at all, and though I’ve had to temporarily close my asks, you don’t have to worry about it! In the end, I chose to receive them under my own awareness, but I appreciate all the concern!❤️Enjoy!!

CHRIS MCLEAN X NB! (ADULT) CAMPER! READER FLUFF

The host wasn’t shy with favourites.

Hence why you were summoned by him on the beach, at a time where everyone else was too tired to strategise.

You arrive, finding the ambient to be carefully idyllic with the swish of the sea and Chris sitting at ease.

His face was dark orange in certain angles from the effulgence of the campfire he crafted not too long ago. Though that was the only source of light in the wildlife nighttime, you can see his eyebrows tilting at your appearance,“Why are you wearing a hoodie?”

“It’s Canada, Chris.” you gently rub your shoulders,“That campfire isn’t enough to warm the entire air.”

“Fair enough.” he reaches over in his sitting position for an opened bag between his feet,“I had some leftover marshmallows. Thought it’d be nice to toast them together.”

You come to sit down next to him on the log, noticing two conveniently thin sticks on his other side,“I’d like that.”

He squeezes a marshmallow from the packet onto the top of a twig and handed it to you. He repeats the same with the other twig and sticks it out lightly above the flames and snuggles against your shoulder,“Talk to me. Remind me how it’s like to be two decades old again.”

“You’re such a funny man, Chris.” you rub your hand on his thigh as you slowly spin your stick with the other,”For one, I finished college, the funniest years of my life. My first year, I didn’t take anything seriously and neither did my friend. During our class tests, we would share an earbud on one of our ipod players and we would leave more than half of the paper blank.” your lips widened upwards as your mind relives the glassy experience of reckless youth.

“Terrible, dude.” clear Chris didn’t feel the same,“I couldn’t care less about academics, but ranking lowest of the low on purpose? You better not be thinking about doing the same here.’

“That’s what my mom was saying after parents evening. So, thanks to her wise words, I graduated, two years before my friend, who’s in catchup school right now.” a laugh forced its way out of your dry mouth after you finished narrating.

“Right now?” he blinked consciously,“An evening class?”

You drew your tanned treat out the smoke for a bite, confirming,“It only seems late because we have no energy left after putting up with your challenges all day and you call it night the minute it’s dark. You ruined our perception of time.”

“Sure did.” his teeth takes a proud dive into his toasted squishy,“Someone’s gotta teach you kids that staying up late isn’t good for your well-being.”

Says him who made the entire second challenge about just that!,“We’re not kids, Chris! We’re adults. We can drink, vote, smoke, fuck. Do all that you can.” the kind of contestants he was dealing with. You hoped that would put things into a new perspective for him.

“Yeah yeah, secure yourself something that pays you at least six figures a month, then come back to me.” he rolls his eyes, fishing another marshmallow out in the fiery centre,“Soooo? Where are your plans for that? You going to work after this? Uni? Apprenticeship?”

You silently shiver.

Only the crackling of the campfire occupied the air.

“Uh, dude?” he waves his hand in front of your wordless face,“Helloooo? (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

Chris didn’t appreciate that,“If you didn’t know, it’s kinda a poor show of manners to not reply when people are speaking to you.”

“I know...” you thought the silence was a better answer,“Sorry.”

“Are you saying that because you have nothing to tell me?”

You nod.

“Oh. Wow.” he wasn’t actually expecting that,“Really though? Like you’ve never thought about what you wanted to do after you left school? Not even when you were younger?”

“Nunca. I had other things to worry about.” feeling awkward, you removed your shoes to allow your bare feet to explore the grains of the sticky sand.

“Well! It seems like another inexperienced troubled thing has stumbled across my path, still not knowing what they wanna do with their lives even if they are too old to go back to elementary.” Chris’ time as an actor paid off in his voice at the pretend moment of theatre,“Why don’t you work for me?”

“And end up paralysed for the rest of my life?” you sneer at his suggestion,“No thanks.”

“Don’t be so down, (Y/N)!” he exclaims, pinching your cheek,“Am I that bad that the first job you assume I’ll give you is internship? Heck no! You can be my assistant, secretary, something. Whatever the title is, it’s not really important, but it won’t be internship. Genuine!”

“I don’t know...” hesitation dresses your tone,“Wouldn’t this be obvious to the other contestants that there’s some favouritism if I worked with you after the show? I don’t want them to ridicule me.”

Laughter from Chris in this context was...a reaction you didn’t wholly list out,“Why do you care about what a bunch of lifelong jobless people think? Besides, it’s in the contract, you’re legally obliged to do any role I may ask of you. I’m the one in charge here.”

You quickly remember Chris by his job. The host. The host with the most.

An accepting exhale longs out between your lips,“I guess you’ve decided my fate then, Mr McLean.”

“Practicing formalities already? Hm.” he dramatically puts a finger to his chin, a smirk tapping on his face,“I think I’m liking this employer and employee relationship between us.”

“Gross!” you guffaw, shoving him jokingly on the shoulder, already having his title shattered in your brain,“We’ll have plenty of time for that once I’m in a suit.”

“Who said I want you in one when it happens?” your eyelids disappear. He did not just say that,“We’re on an Island for God’s sake! I’ll allow you to wear something more casual.”

Oh my God, he’s good.

Oh my God.

“W-We’ll see...” you stuff your stutter with another soft goodie, way before it could get golden.

“You bet I will.” Chris had winked at you there, similar to the flash of the campfire, melting your marshmallow as he did your heart.

Cheesy, but it’s the truth. Your life’s barely started and it’s been signed away to an anticipating celebrity.

Ha! When you’ve already won him over, who needs a hundred thousand dollars?

#chris mclean #total drama #tdi x reader #tdi #td chris #chris mclean x reader #request #td chris mclean x reader #total drama chris mclean #total drama island chris #total drama chris

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Note

( 🥐 anon )

hiii !! i have two ideas! you can choose whichever!

fairy and eddie making flower crowns

mermen steve and eddie making shell bracelets

Aaand another one, yaaay! okay so idk if you know the song mermaid bar by maya hawke but that heavily inspired this thing. Go listen to it if you don't bc her music is *chef's kiss*

TW for mention of death / suicide (if you're reading this and have issues in that area, please talk about it with a safe person in your environment or call your country's suicide prevention line if necessary)

---

It had been days since Eddie had last eaten. He was preparing himself to never eat again because that beast-like feeling had terrified him right to his bones. It had been more instinct than anything else, something primal and desperate trying to keep his weakened, hungry body alive. His sharp teeth cutting into the diamondback terrapin, its raw flesh dropping into his stomach and awakening something awful deep inside of him.

Eddie used to love turtles, before he fell into the Hudson river and his ribs separated to make space for gills; before his legs turned into black and silver scales shimmering in the light that filtered through the waves; before webs sprouted between his fingers.

He had left the Long Island winter beaches behind him now, coursing to the open seas and wondering how long he would last on his empty stomach, half hoping he would get caught in a fishnet or encounter a ship. But no such thing happened. He was all alone with the fishes down here.

Until he saw something that weirdly looked like... a building. Like a house, a human house, or maybe a shed. His curiosity suddenly kicked in again – a familiar feeling, finally, thank whoever caused this whole predicament – and he purposefully started swimming closer.

It didn't take long before he could distinguish that it was a wooden building, decorated with all kinds of shells and half overgrown with corals. Sardine Dream Mermaid Bar was written right above the front door, in uneven and slightly wobbly letters. The door was open and since Eddie's curiosity was growing by the second, he swam inside without even thinking about it.

'Ahoy!'

And holy shit. Behind the counter of what was unmistakably a very real, actual bar, was possibly the most beautiful creature Eddie had ever encountered. His brown hair was dancing around his face in graceful waves, his toned arms were covered in all kinds of shell bracelets, and his bare chest... Well. Eddie was pretty sure he'd lose his consciousness again if he were to keep looking at that chest.

'You can talk!' Eddie thought out loud, and hey, apparently, he could talk too. 'I can talk!'

The creature – mermaid – boy – person – smiled a smile that was ridiculously beautiful despite his scary sharp teeth.

'Yeah, we can talk.'

'There's more like you?'

He kept smiling. 'Way more. You can hear them singing, if you listen closely.'

Eddie froze in his place as he listened intently; and sure enough, very faintly, he could hear some kind of ethereal song carrying through the water.

'I'm Steve.'

The stranger held out his webbed hand and Eddie hesitantly shook it while telling him his own name.

'So I take it you're new?'

Eddie nodded dumbly.

'Alright, I bet you're hungry, then. I'll get you something to eat. What do you want? Oysters, caviar, scallops?'

'Um, scallops is fine, I guess.' Eddie's empty belly started twisting nauseatingly at the promise of something to eat – something he wouldn't have to kill between his own teeth. Or at least, he hoped that was what Steve was going to serve him. He didn't exactly know the rules of whatever this was.

'What is this place?' Eddie asked while Steve turned around to prepare a plate for him. He caught a glimpse of the golden fishtail that had been hiding behind the counter and – wow. He had never seen colors like that before in his life.

'It's um... A refuge, I guess,' Steve told him. 'I opened it when I ended up here. It's a place where people can come if they're in trouble, or if they feel like they don't belong anywhere, you know.'

And oh, Eddie could relate to that. He took the plate that Steve held out to him and gratefully dug in.

'Jesus Christ this is good,' he murmured around his full mouth, gaining himself another smile from Steve before he closed his eyes to properly revel in the rich taste on his tongue.

'So how did you get here?' Steve asked.

'Fell in the goddamn river,' Eddie managed to say between two bites. 'Fuckin' stupid really. Partying in New York. Drunk, high, you know how it goes. Slipped, hit my head, and that was it. Or, well, that was supposed to be it.' He dropped the mussel he had been holding to make jazz-hands. 'Yet here we are.' He swallowed another bite. 'What about you, how did you get here?'

'I jumped.'

'You jumped in the –' But before Eddie could finish his question, understanding dawned over him. 'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay,' Steve said. 'I'm happy to be here, actually. Things are much better now. Not everyone is lucky enough to land in bubbles when they fall.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Eddie mumbled quietly, thinking about his mother and how she had fallen, back when he was little. There certainly had been no bubbles to catch her.

'Hey.' It sounded soft and Steve tilted his head a little bit, staring at Eddie as if he was trying to figure him out. 'You can stay here for as long as you need to,' he continued. 'I'll teach you everything you should know. We have this – this ritual.' He gestured to a tall jar that was standing on the counter between them, filled with all kinds of shells in various shades of white. 'This is our tip jar. Everyone leaves some shells when they come here, and we use them to bind ourselves to each other. I'll make you a bracelet right now, to make you part of the community. And when you feel that the time has come – when you feel at home here, when you're ready to navigate this world without me – you can return the favor.'

Eddie let his gaze wander to Steve's forearms, both covered in bracelets.

'So these are all from people you helped?'

The sudden bashful look on Steve's face didn't escape Eddie's notice.

'Yeah, I guess I did,' he said, almost like it surprised himself.

With his belly filled and his human instincts finally returning to him, Eddie felt brave enough to stretch out his hand and gently trace the bracelets on Steve's left arm with his index finger.

'It'd be an honor to give you a bracelet of my own someday, Steve,' he said softly.

And when he saw the look in Steve's soft brown eyes, it suddenly didn't seem so bad to Eddie anymore that he had fallen into the river.

#tw death #tw suicide #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #maya hawke #fruity ficlet

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immersed-in-mischief · 2 years

Text

Liquid Courage (Loki x Female Reader One Shot)

This one shot was inspired by a post from @mochie85 and a song she loves. After listening to "Half Crazy" by Juslisen, I knew I had to write this story!!!

4.6k words

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of a drunken hookup, excessive drinking, jealousy, and unrequited love

Contains angst, slight fluff, and mentions of sex.

“Whoa, slow down killer.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you downed the third shot of the night without a second thought. All you wanted to do was forget for just one night. As if she knew exactly what was going through your mind, Natasha put herself between you and the broody god at the opposite end of the bar.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain cranky Asgardian prince? We’ve all noticed that the besties haven’t been on the best of terms lately. What are you two fighting about now?”

After chasing the shot with a large swig of your mixed drink, you winced slightly as the burn made its way through your chest. It still didn’t do much to sooth the ache that you felt inside. With a sigh, you finally voiced the one thing that hadn’t left your thoughts in weeks.

“I wish it was just a simple fight. This is so much worse.”

Watching her brows furrow with concern, you took a deep breath and forced the words out.

“He and I… we uh… we hooked up, Nat…”

The words were enough to make the trained spy sputter on her drink. Not much shocked her anymore, but that revelation was certainly enough to catch her off guard.

“The music in here is a little loud tonight. I’m going to need you to repeat that again.”

Pouring yourself another shot from the bottle you swiped from behind the bar, you refused to meet her eyes, knowing the sight of him was right over her shoulder. The way he was burning a hole right through you with his intense stare made you wonder if he had heard your confession.

“We both know you heard me, Romanoff. I won’t say it again.”

“Alright… wow… so you slept with your best friend who you have been madly in love with for ages. I take it things didn’t go well? Was the sex horrible or what?”

You didn’t say a word causing her to study you and approach it at another angle.

“Spill it babe. I need some details here.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know if the sex was good or not?”

Finally meeting her eyes, you bit your lip and darted your eyes over her shoulder to the man in question who was staring at the glass in front of him.

“I don’t know because I don’t remember, alright! It’s just flashes in my mind. We were hanging out in the common room passing a bottle of tequila back and forth and at some point the conversation shifted to not so family friendly topics. I told him about my dry spell, explained what exactly a dry spell was, and then I briefly recall him saying something to the extent of offering to end said dry spell. After that it’s kind of fuzzy. Heavy petting and making out in the floor in front of the couch turned into something more and then I don’t remember anything else until the next morning.”

Natasha took the bottle from you and poured her own shot.

“Based on the way things have been since then, it wasn’t a pleasant morning after?”

The memory of the next day caused your vision to blur and you quickly looked down to compose yourself.

“Something like that… As if it wasn’t awkward enough, he called it a mistake. I’ve wondered for years what it would be like to wake up beside him and Lohk immediately regrets it…”

Feeling his gaze on you once again, you turned to face the mirror behind the bar and wiped away the few tears that had fallen. You locked eyes with her in the reflection as she rubbed you back to comfort you with tears of her own.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

Throwing on a fake smile, you tried to lighten the mood.

“I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I see the parade of woman that come and go from his room all the time and the walks of shame to the elevator the morning after. I just never thought I would be one of them, you know? That’s what I get for crossing that line. He and I have barely spoken two words to each other since then. Part of me wishes I could go back and stop it from happening. At least then I would still have my best friend… It’s kind of poetic in a way though. My one chance of knowing what it’s like to be the one he desires, and I was too drunk to remember any of it. It’s like all of the heartache without any of the fun first.”

Downing one more shot first, Natasha grabbed your hand and began to drag you towards the dance floor.

“You and I are going to move to the music until you forget all about him, babe. If you end up finding someone new, even better!”

Loki knew coming to Stark’s party tonight was a bad choice. It was the longest he had been in the same room with you since that fateful morning. The look on your face haunted him. It didn’t matter what he was doing, day or night. The sight of your heart breaking right in front of him had changed something inside of him. The sexy and confident woman he had always admired was gone in an instant and he was now staring at someone who could only be described as insecure and dangerously vulnerable. The darkness inside of him had taken that from him too. More than anything though… he missed his best friend. In the days since, he had wished with all of his might that he could take it back. He had seen lovers make a quick escape, but the way you rushed from his bed was some sort of record. He hadn’t even had a chance to wrap the sheet around his waist and follow after you before you were throwing on your clothes and making a mad dash for the door. In his heart, he knew the sound of a sob broke free just before you slammed the door closed behind you.

The feel of someone approaching him on his right caused him to snap out of his thoughts. He looked up to find a mischievous smirk on her face before she swiped his glass from him and downed the amber liquid in a single swallow.

“Romanoff. You owe me a drink.”

“Please. You’ve been nursing the same one for a long while now. We both know I did you a favor and I’m about to do you another one.”

Taking a seat beside him, she leaned against the bar and narrowed her eyes as she studied him. Mirroring her position, he returned the expression in a challenge.

“Is that so? Do tell.”

Loki wasn’t in the mood to deal with her games tonight. In this moment, he made the decision to hear her out and then make his leave. There wasn’t a single Midgardian liquor that could numb his pain right now and the flask of Asgardian mead stashed away in his chambers was calling to him.

“I am… It’s come to my attention that you and a certain someone recently indulged in a little bedsheet tango together.”

While he didn’t quite understand her reference, it was enough to hint at the true topic and he didn’t want any part of it.

“I do believe that isn’t any of your business, Agent.”

She grabbed the bottle from behind the bar and refilled his glass.

“Oh, it’s not. I just wanted to let you know that she appears to be moving on just fine, so I suggest that you do the same.”

With the glass delicately grasped between her fingers, she used it to point over his shoulder towards something behind him. Rolling his eyes in disinterest first, he humored her and turned in his seat to acknowledge whatever she was smirking at just out of his line of sight. The scene before him caused his fists to clench as a surge of rage flooded his system.

Over the music, he could just make out the sound of your laughter now that he was focused on it. On the edge of the dance floor before him, a faceless piece of trash had you wrapped up in his arms as the two of you were very suggestively grinding against each other to the beat of the song. When the stranger’s hands slid down to settle on your hips in the skin tight dress you had worn tonight, that was several inches shorter than he was comfortable with, he braced himself against the edge of the bar as his hands started to shake. Loki’s breaking point came when your arms came up to weave through the man’s hair at the base of his neck while he leaned down and left a trail of kisses along your neck, causing your laugh to turn into a seductive giggle. The memory of you doing the same thing to him during your night together fueled the fire inside of him.

With one smooth motion, the angry god was on his feet and swiping the glass back from the red head beside him. Her smirk turned into a full blown grin as he threw back the drink and slammed the now empty glass down on the surface with enough force to break it.

“If you’ll excuse me…”

Natasha waited until he was just out of ear shot before she let her laughter slip out.

“You and your jealous streak, Laufeyson… So very predictable!”

Just when you were about to turn to face your sexy stranger, his body quickly pulled away from yours. The suddenness of it caused you to fall backwards until it landed against a firm surface, preventing you from being laid out on your butt.

“Time to go, Pet…”

That sultry voice would always do sinful things to you. It took you a second to register that it was located just beside your ear, and you swung around to find yourself face to face with Loki himself. Your eyes darted to the shocked and slightly scared guy on the ground beside him and it was now your anger that was fueled.

“What are you doing?!”

Gripping your arm with enough force to hold your attention but not harm you, he leaned in just inches from your face and spoke through a clenched jaw.

“I said. Time. To. Go.”

There was no chance for you to argue back before you were being directed off the dance floor and through the open balcony doors on the side of the crowded room. Letting you go once the two of you were outside, Loki turned to close the doors behind him to give the two of you a sliver of privacy and drown out the deafening noise coming through the speakers.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Loki!?”

He turned around just in time to get pushed up against the doors, being caught by surprise as your hands shoved him with as much strength as you could gather. It was still barely enough to knock him off balance and you both knew that.

“You had no right doing that! You forfeited that right the morning you kicked me out of your bed and treated me like just another of your one-night stands!”

“I didn’t kick you out of my bed, darling, and we both know you are most certainly not like the others that have had the pleasure of spending a night with me!”

He watched as you threw your hands up in the air and let out a deep growl before beginning to frantically pace the small space of the balcony floating above the New York City skyline.

“Damn it, Loki! You just think so highly of yourself don’t you!? Of course I was just another notch on your bed post! Stop pretending like it meant anything to you at all!”

Choosing to ignore the comment he knew was just to hurt him, he lowered his voice and slowly approached you.

“I want the truth, Y/N. What you said that night… Did you mean it?”

The question caught you off guard and interrupted your slightly drunken tantrum.

“Did I mean what, Loki?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop pretending you don’t remember. Ignorance is not an attractive quality.”

Loki patiently waited for your answer, crossing his arms when he was met with silence. Seeing no way out from it any longer, you let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose to reign in your fury. The sound of your voice was smaller than you liked.

“I’m not pretending, Loki, and I’m not trying to be ignorant… I truly don’t remember.”

When you glanced up at him, his features had shifted to one of confusion, obviously not understanding.

“Apparently I was drunker than I thought and my memories of that night have a lot of missing pieces, okay?”

He stared into your eyes from his post against the side of the building as he searched for any sign of deception from you. When he realized you truly didn’t know what he was asking, you swore you saw a flash of hurt before he turned his gaze to the ground in front of him.

“I see… May I ask what you do remember about our evening together?”

Knowing this wasn’t going to be an easy or short conversation, you sat down on the bench behind you and wrapped your arms around your middle and noticed for the first time just how chilly the night air was. Without a second thought, Loki pushed off the wall and slid his suit jacket off his shoulders as he approached you. The feel of him wrapping the warm fabric around you caused you to look up and meet his eyes once more before he sat down beside you. As a breeze carried the scent of him from the garment and enveloped you in the familiarity of it, you were reminded of the comfort he had provided you until the recent change between the two of you. It was enough to give you the courage to make your confession.

“Gods, Lohk. This is so embarrassing…”

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side, as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“It’s just me, sweetheart…”

Loki heard you sigh before leaning in closer to him and allowing him to hold you.

“I remember how the night started and the abundance of alcohol being poured until we switched to drinking straight from the bottle. I remember when the topic changed and my brazen comment about how long it had been since I had seen any action. I also remember your offer of a solution to my problem. One of the last things I remember clearly was when you kissed me… After that, it’s just flashes of me ending up in your lap as things got more heated and I’m vaguely aware of clothes being shed. I don’t recall when we moved from the couch to your bed and I certainly don’t remember anything I would have said that you want me to clarify… The next thing I knew, I was waking up in your room instead of mine. You refused to look me in the eye after I woke up naked in your arms. Then when you called me a mistake, I just panicked. I’ve never been more mortified in my entire life than that very moment… If I could take it all back, Loki, I would. That night ruined everything between us and I’m sorry it happened.”

The distant sound of the traffic below and the rumble of the bass from the party still going inside was the only thing that filled the silence, until his whisper came what felt like an eternity later.

“I’m not…”

Your mind raced as you tried to understand his meaning. The feel of his hand in yours came just before he continued his thought.

“I’m not sorry it happened. Not even a little bit.”

When you still didn’t look up at him, his other hand came up to your cheek to turn your face towards him. Loki’s eyes searched yours for a brief moment before they closed. Out of nowhere, you were flooded with images and scenes from that night. All of the memories and moments that had been stolen from you due to your overindulgence were now clear and whole again.

You watched from both his perspective and yours as the two of you moved from the couch to the floor. Without breaking the kiss, the barriers were removed between you until your bodies were surrounded by a circle of clothing. After what must have been the first round, Loki transported the two of you to his room in a flash of green where he took you for a second time against the wall beside him. It wasn’t until you reached yet another high that he tightened his grip and carried you over to his bed. For the final time of the night, he explored and roamed across your form until you were a panting mess beneath him. Just before the two of you found your release together, you heard a series of words slip out in between your moans.

“I love you, Loki. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

With a gasp, you pulled out of his thoughts and found yourself back on the balcony. The smile on his face was forced and the pain in his eyes had returned. When Loki’s hand slipped from your cheek to rest in your lap, you broke the intense stare and turned away from him to gather your thoughts. As if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he spoke up.

“It wasn’t until you were falling asleep in my arms that I processed what you had let slip in the heat of the moment… I ask you again, Y/N… Did you mean what you said?”

The tear sliding down your cheek felt like ice as it burned its way across your skin. In an attempt to keep your dignity and composure, you quickly wiped it away and dismissed his question entirely.

“It doesn’t matter. My answer won’t change things, Lohk. You already said so yourself when you woke up beside me the next morning. I was a mistake.”

As soon as you felt his hands return to your cheeks and turn you towards him, your eyes closed to prevent yourself from seeing the expression on his face. The last thing you wanted to see was the awkward distance you saw that morning or even worse… pity.

“Darling, please look at me. Don’t hide. Not from me.”

Taking an unsteady breath first, you slowly opened your eyes to find a soft, yet serious expression in front of you. His gaze flicked down to your lips between returning to your stare again.

“First off, you were never a mistake. My words were ‘My actions last night were a mistake.’ While I admit that my choice of words were not ideal, had I been able to finish my thought, I would have discussed the declaration you had made and how had I known of your feelings on the matter, a drunken escapade in the living room floor was not the experience I would have allowed you to have. In the spirit of complete honesty, I had gone into my decision to bed you fully expecting a pleasurable night between two friends in order to fulfill your needs. I had no suspicions that you harbored such deep feelings towards me, or I would not have allowed that night to take place.

That being said, while I didn’t feel the same way, or at least wasn’t aware of it at the time, things changed for me that night. While you slept peacefully on my chest, I found it impossible to fall asleep and continued to replay your words over in my mind as I saw all of our interactions in an entirely different light. I can’t begin to tell you how guilty I felt about the night we had spent together. Not because it happened, but because of what I thought it must have meant to you. I had treated you like the others that had passed through my bed that I never gave a second thought.

I am ashamed to say that when you became upset and retreated that morning, I had forced myself to believe that it was better this way. We would find a way back to what we had before and pretend it didn’t happen, but when you instead cut me out of your life completely, I began to realize the error of my ways.”

Loki slipped from the bench and dropped down to his knees in front of you before looking up into your eyes and tightly gripped your hands in his.

“Darling, the last few weeks have been torture for me. I can’t think about anything but you. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus on anything but you and everything I’ve lost. You are not only my best friend, but also my better half. I made myself believe that you deserved better than me and I tried to let you go, but I’m too selfish to let that happen. When I saw you dancing with that imbecile tonight and was forced to watch someone other than myself lay their hands on you in very inappropriate ways, I wanted to murder him in the most painful manner imaginable.”

You tried as hard as possible to hide the smirk that formed at his jealousy, but it was enough to help calm him back down again.

“My Love, even though you never actually answered my question, I need you to know that I whole heartedly mean what I am telling you. I love you, Y/N. I may have always loved you and just been too blind to see it until now. Either way, I realize it now. I need you in my life to survive. While I do wish our first time together had been different, I don’t regret that it happened because it made me see what was in front of me this entire time. My past has made it difficult for me to receive love and give it in return, but more than anything, I want to try. You make me want to be better and do better. Please let me fix this. I can’t go another day without you.”

The need to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming was a strong urge, but at the same time, if you were asleep, you didn’t want to wake up right now. Loki’s eyes searched yours and silently pleaded for an answer. It almost appeared as if he was actually holding his breath as he waited for you to speak. Feeding off his own courage, you took a deep breath and tried to push through the emotions in order to respond.

“Yes, Loki. I meant it. I love you and I’ve loved you for a really long time. I suppose a drunken night was the only way I was going to tell you because in my heart, I never thought you would ever love me back. I had settled for the fact that I would only be in your life as your best friend and never anything more. In the beginning when I first realized I had fallen in love with you, it hurt to see so many people come and go, knowing behind that door they were getting something I would never experience. After a while though, I started to realize that while they were gifted with a side of you that I didn’t have, it was just a small part of you and I got the rest. I knew they were just flings to you and a means to an end. They didn’t get late night talks or lazy days in the library together. Those people were never given long walks through the park or rainy afternoons in a dimly lit bookstore looking for secret treasures. I was the one that got to see your eyes light up when you found a book you had been searching for or the way you only look completely relaxed and at peace around me and no one else. Even around the rest of the team, you put up a wall to part of yourself and for some unknown reason, I was the only person besides your mother that was blessed with a key to it… I am head over heels in love with you Loki Laufeyson and I can’t live my life without you either.”

The tears in his eyes now matched the one in yours. With one swift movement, Loki wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a heated kiss. When he finally pulled away to allow you both a breath, the smile on his face was the biggest you had ever seen. If it was possible, you wished to capture the moment in your memory forever as he stared back at you in complete awe and adoration. He lifted his hands to kiss your knuckles before standing and pulling you up from the bench. With one hand against your lower back to press you tighter against him, his other hand cupped your cheek as his thumb softly caressed the skin beneath it.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, darling. I love you so very much.”

“I love you too.”

Leaning up on your toes to better reach him, he leaned down to close the remaining distance to place a sweet kiss against your lips. When he pulled away, his gaze shifted from a loving one to something slightly darker as the thought formed in his head. The raise of your eyebrows in a question caused him to release a deep chuckle at the silent conversations that always took place between you.

“What do you say we get out of here and you let me redo the night we should have had together?”

“I’m listening… what exactly did you have in mind, Mischief?”

With his arms wrapped around you, he swayed the two of you back and forth as he appeared to ponder the thought. The way his voice was now deeper caused a chill to run through you.

“Instead of a bottle of tequila and the living room floor, how do you feel about a nice hot bath together, soft candle light, and so many slow building orgasms that you forget all names except mine?”

The way your eyes widened just as you swallowed hard made the deep chuckle return causing you feel the vibrations of it when his chest pressed against yours. With him now leaning down to press his lips directly against the shell of your ear, the feel of his breath caused the flush of your skin to deepen.

“Besides, the rest of the team is still inside the party behind us and won’t be home until the early morning hours. That should allow me the privacy needed to make it up to you properly and very thoroughly, my dear.”

Loki didn’t even wait for a response before the two of you disappeared in a flash of green. The echo of your giggle the only sign you had been there at all.

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