#it's cool you have at least a year of married bliss | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsomens · 2 months

Text

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7 • 𝓦𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓻𝔂 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷…

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

warnings: language, kitchen sex, oral sex (female receiving), apology sex,

"Y/N? Dear you've been in here for days, at least come out for Cheri's party!" Your mother stood at the end of your bed. You had been at your parents house for about 3 days already, and each day that passed you've only come out for a shower and maybe some water. You felt awful about not getting Cheri a gift so you made sure to order whatever she had in her shopping cart online as a gift.

"Mmmmmm" you groan into your pillow "can't I just rot here?"

"All because of a break up?" she clicks her tongue and rests her hands on her hips

"It wasn't just a break up!" you sit up "It was...was...ugh!......I just...don't want to see him or another man for the next 10 years" you flop on to your back staring at your dark ceiling.

"Well Cheri is asking for you, so get up," she yanks the covers off your body "Get dressed and come downstairs." she said as she opened the curtains to brighten your dark rooms. Your mother loved and cared for you but at times when you were low she became strict to give you a backbone. But she could have at least been gentle with the lighting.

You sit up in bed and walk over to your dresser as you stretch your arms above your head. Letting them fall to your sides with a deep sigh you stop at your dresser and stare at your reflection. Running your hands over your face and through your messy hair. You looked tired…because you were. You tap the screen of your phone to see another 5 missed calls and of course another 10 messages.

Nah had been trying to get you to come back or at least talk to for consistently.

“Please come back flower” "Let me fix this shit please," “Y/N, I swear to you the contract means nothing” “I didn’t mean what I said to you”

“Come home…please”

Should you hear him out? Some would say yes, but you felt too hurt to do so. You married this man, hated him, talked to him more, some forced proximity, shopping and some great sex and it felt as if it was going good. You would even recall those morning where you’d talk to each other before getting out of bed

“So if you weren’t in all of…this” you gestured to the room as a whole “what would you have done?”

“I’m not sure if I’m honest. Maybe just be a regular ceo of a company…maybe a nice little music store”

“A music store?” You giggled

“Mhm, you meet some great people when you’re there. Besides, I hear pretty girls like guys who can play” he smirks coming closer to your lips

“Would you still have married me in that universe?”

“Well first I gotta get your attention and take you a nice date then meet your parents and find the right ring but yeah….i think I would….”

You brush your hair as you thought back on that morning. That blissful month that felt like a dream. You felt as though you were feeling for someone who didn’t even exist. Worst was it was someone pretending to be them….on top of that what he had said honestly hurt. You walk over to your closet and pull out a casual little back dress with some white trimming and detail. Nothing too flashy, you did some light make up and let your hair fall loose instead.

You grab some of your old earrings that were still left in your room and head for the door. You could hear the music and voices that came from the gardens of your family home. Your heels clack down the steps of the marble staircase. You walk outside and it was a perfect fall day. It was sunny and there was just enough of a cool breeze to keep a nice neutral temperature. You look out into the party and see you sisters enjoying themselves and it made your heart happy to see after so long. Cheri was already 15 and you watched as he smiled and hugged everyone that graced her with a gift. Being the baby of the family of course she was spoiled and was the little princess in the home.

Before you could go out to get into the party you hear the doorbell ring. One of the maids had gone to answer the door before you could offer to go and get it. You walk down the steps into the garden and put on your happy mask to not bring down the mood of the celebration. You walk over to Cheri and lean down to her shoulder

"Is little miss Cherry 5 or 15?" you asked with a smile making her spin around. You would always call her Cherry as a child and you still do, you also have her contact info as Cherry.

"Y/N! You came!" she turned to you and clung to your neck "Laura said you forgot about me and wouldn't come" she gave a slight pout dreading for you to miss her birthday

"Me? Miss your birthday? Not even when you're old and wrinkly" you smile at her causing a laugh to erupt from her chest. Her eyes trail form yours to something behind you. You look over your shoulder and see Noah of all people. He was in casual but still dressy attire. Black slacks, button down white shirt with the first two buttons undone and his black blazer to go with his pants. You whirl around ready to rip him a new one for being there until you brother spoke

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he was trying to hold back on language for the sake of family and friends there. Noah has his hands up as sign of complacency

"Just here for the birthday girl, brought my gift for her alright? Is that so wrong, Matthew" he used his name as if they were on the best of terms

"You know why the fuck you're here you bastard," he said coming closer but you put yourself between them. Noah keeping sharp and cold eye contact with your brother. Matthew looked like he was ready to rip him apart. The day he picked you up, you were in emotional shambles, seeing you so down and out because of him!

"Stop it you two!" you whisper yell at them "Take this inside, and no fighting!" you give them a stern look as the party starts to quiet down

"I think your sister’s right. Let's talk like men" you shoot, Noah a glare, knowing that tone better than anyone in that room. You didn’t have to say anything to him, but he turned on his heel and made his way back into the kitchen. He looked at your brother and asked him to calm down before you both went inside and join Noah. You made sure to close the door behind you as I have some privacy to your conversation. Noah leaned against, a part of the counter as you were on the opposite end doing the same. With your brother standing in the middle, looking as if he was a mediator for you both.

“ first things first. What are you doing here?” You asked straight away.

“you know I wanted to come to you Cheri’s birthday with you, flower-“

“Y/N.” You interrupted and corrected him.

Ouch “…Y/N… I brought the gift for her and it’s right over there. But I also came to talk to you.” Stared deeply into your eyes. Peering into the darkest depths of your soul and heart. It was as if Matthew wasn’t even in the room with you both, but you didn’t want to crack just under his gaze.

“do you know what you did? Will you caused her? The amount of tears I’ve seen her cry because of you… and you just wanna walk in here like some big shot?” Your brother leans on the table, staring at Noah if he was ready to pound over the furniture and strangle him.

“ I know what I did Matthew. But with all respect this is our marriage, not yours. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to my wife alone.”

“I’m not gonna leave her alone with you asshole…” he said, as he strides over to Noah. Despite Noah towering over him by a good couple of inches, he still stood tall with his chest, puffed out, ready to tussle if need be.

You come over and stand between them both once again. You weren’t defending Noah and you weren’t defending your brother but at the same time you couldn’t just let a fire break out in the middle of your kitchen at a birthday party

“ Matthew just go. I’ll talk with him and will be out in a second okay?”

“I am Not gonna leave you alone with some asshole who hurt you. Who knows what he can fucking do while I’m not here!” he argues against your decision

“Some genius you are thinking I’d actually hurt my wife” he scuffs with a shit eating smirk not caring that he may send Matthew into a burning rage

“I’ll if anything happens I’ll call you okay? I’ll be fine…” Matthew squeezes your shoulder with his hand to give you reassurance that if you needed anything, he was just a call away before he turned to leave he made sure to give Noah a look up and down his body ready to rip him a new one. No wait until he was completely out of the kitchen to speak to you. As soon as the door shut, and he was out of say no, it turned to you and it’s as if you were talking to a whole new person.

“You haven’t been home for 3 days and it’s felt like an eternity….” He starts

“ I am home.” You answer as you cross your arms and look out of the “ you know these type of marriages are common. All you needed was an heir, you could have gotten it over with it, and we would have gotten over that hurdle much quicker.”

Noah shakes his head out of your remark

“That’s because it’s not what I want. Don’t you think that if I wanted an heir that badly you would’ve been pregnant by now?” He said stepping closer to you “do you think I would have jumped on that chance the first night we stepped foot into our house?”

He walks closer to you causing you to back up until your butt hits the table. Stopping you in your tracks. Noah stood over you studying your face intently and precisely.

“Come back home with me…” Your eyes broke from his own as if the answer was in writing on the tiled floor. “ What do you want from me? Do you want me on my knees?”

“No i-“ before you can get your whole answer out. Noah is on his knees on your kitchen floor. This feared mafia boss was at your mercy. All you did was leave he could’ve gotten any woman he wanted in the snap of a finger. Yet here he was practically begging you for forgiveness because you weren’t home for three days.

“Noah….. you don’t care about me. You don’t care about a pawn that was part of your contract. And I won’t be any more than just a-“

“No. You’re not just a pawn. You’re not just the contract. You are my wife…” you could feel his hand tracing up the back of your ankle and glide of your calf into the back of your knees. He lives your right knee just a bit. Enough to bring the skin up to his lips and kisses the skin "I really did show up for Cheri's birthday...but I also need you back home Y/N...." he looks up at you from the floor, holding you close him by your legs. His lips kissing your thigh starting from the front and slowly moving tot he inner thigh

“Noah please not here stop,”

“Fuck….i missed your skin so much” he was nearly savoring the flavor along with each kiss “please say you’ll come home with me princess,”

This man was relentless…

“I…..I have conditions…” he looks up at you and rises to his feet

“Any,” he’s already agreeing before you spoke

“1, I need you to explain and explain detail by detail our contract and catches,”

“Done.”

“2….i want transparency of people trying to harm me.” Noah was iffy about that one. He wanted to shield you from the situation completely and totally

“I’m only doing it for your own wellbeing flower,” he said stuffing his hands into his pockets

“I want to know what’s going on when it comes to my life.” Noah think on it for a moment and nods

“Well work on it,”

“And 3…I want another wedding.” Well that one was off from the others

“Why another,” he asks half intrigued

“Our wedding was staged. I didn’t even pick my own dress, or location or venue,” you said beginning to pace up and down the room and stopping at the window “I didn’t even have my friends or extended family there….it didn’t feel special. So if what you say is true,” you turn to him “maybe the wedding can be forgiven with another.”

“Those are your conditions?” He asks coming closer to you

“Yes. And….if they are not met. All of them…I will be back here, permanently” he stops in front of you and takes a hold of your hand

“Whatever my little flower asks for, she shall receive” he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your fingers. He brings it down to slip in your wedding ring again

“You look better with this on you know,” he smirks at you “so what time do you want to leave?”

“You can come and get me tomorrow morning at 10 AM,”

“Not today? Am I still being punished?” He holds a hand over his heart as if you had stabbed him

You simply shrug and smirk. How he missed that smirk, he missed your sassy attitude, the way his clothes would suddenly be mixed with yours, the way you'd ask him to change his outfit so he'd match you.....he missed everything about you

"alright, 10 am it is," he softly smiles at you

"so, what genius gift did you get Cheri? She's very particular so I'm curious of what you cam u-"

"Boquet of lily of the valley, baby's breath and peonies, and the newest release from Gucci in dresses, one in white, pink and blue"

you were speechless. You had mentioned she had a taste for Gucci once and he went ahead and bought he dreses worth thousands of dollars.

"Noah you-"

"Ah," he holds a hand up "I have a gift to deliver to the birthday girl but we are not done" he said walking over to the large birthday bag and starts to walk back to you, his other arm wrapping around your waist quickly kissing your lips with a chuckle and goes back to the party. You stay behind for a while and watch him through the window.

You watch him walk to Cherri and tap her shoulder, he hands her the flowers and the bag. She smiles at him and sets the bag down to sift through it's contents. You watch as her eyes lit up and she pulled the dresses out. She jumps up and down clearly over the moon about her gift. She turns back to Noah and hugs him tightly, you felt your heart warm at the sight. Remembering such a small detail like a brand she likes made her day completely, hell it probably made her year.

In a way you hated how much you loved seeing Cherri get along with Noah. Maybe if this didn't happen, you would like the sight more. You eventually make it back into the party, but kept your distance. You could also feel Mathews eyes burning into the back of your head, but mostly focused on Noah. As the day went on to the sunset Noah had to make his leave.

"I'll walk you to the door" you told him

"Usually it's the-"

"Will you just come Noah?" you turn to him with your arms crossed and a raised eyebrow as you cut him off

"Yes Ma'am," he enjoyed that much more than you expected him to

You walk him to the door and lean against it's frame as you look up at him

"I'll be here, 10 am sharp, princess" he said putting his hands into the pockets of his pants "are you sure you don't want to come home tonight?"

"Very. I can still sleep on my answer you know," you said titling your head at him

"I guess you can, but I hope you don't," as he turns to walk down the steps he turns as if he had forgotten something "Oh an uh, this is yours" he opens his hand expecting yours to land in it. You put your hand in his palm upwards to which he flips and you feel something cold on your finger. It was your ring

"Much better, you look better with the ring on," he smirks as he slyly inches closer to you "I didn't take mine off at all.....since the beginning"

"Oh sure you-"

"I'm serious. Taking it off felt strange and even now I would keep your ring with me at all times. If it wasn't on your hand, I wouldn't want it to be anywhere else." he raised your hand up to his lips and kisses yours fingers longingly "sweet dreams, flower"

The warmth of his hand slips away from yours, and you unfortunately miss the way his hand felt in yours. Your heart, even as you watched him walk away from your home. You were fighting every instinct to run after him and go home.

Home………

Did Noah feel like home to you now? Your arms wrap around your body as you make your way back inside and up to your room again to your solitude. And of course, to think over the decision you had just made. As you walk upstairs, you hear a voice pop up from top step.

“ I thought you would’ve gone with him,” It was your younger sister, sister, Lauren, the third daughter/child in the family “ after everything I just saw, I thought you would’ve jumped in his arms. He would’ve taken you away again.” She chuckles with her arms crossed.

Lauren was always in her own way pick a fight with you. But she was also known as adding wood to the already blazing fire.

“ I am exhausted we can do this another time.” You answer her as you walk past her start walking down the hallway to your room for the night.

“ how do you feel about him?” She suddenly stopping you in your tracks.

“ what do you mean how I feel about him? I don’t feel anything. It’s just a contract, it’s business.” The statement Leaving your lips, hurt to hear and say. although Lauren did find it amusing to pester you at times she did help you to see some clarity by asking you some really annoying questions. Which is why you urged her to be a lawyer.

“Not with the way he was looking at you,” she defends as she walks to you down the hall stopping right in front of you “… same thing goes for the way you were looking at him. If you ask me, I think this might be a little more than just business, maybe even more than just a crush” she had shit to do she pinned.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as your heart, started to pick up against your rib cage.

“Ugh please, today was tiring enough. I don’t need any of your theories in my head.” You said, waving her off as you walk to your bedroom door.

“All I have to say is that I have never seen someone look at another person the way that he looks at you….. just think of your feelings and emotions,” she says quickly before you have a chance to close the door “…. I just want to see you smile again….”

That really did make your heart ache and you stopped at your as he close the door your hiding behind it you give your strong “thank you….goodnight Lauren….”

As soon as the door closed, you could feel your chest ache and way heavy in your body. Your head was spinning in you didn’t know what was happening or how you could solve it. He was a Venus flytrap who had made you comfortable in his sweet nectar, thinking that you were saying. And once you were comfortable enough, he closed his mouth and swallowed you whole.

“I can’t….i don’t……” you couldn’t have possibly felt that way. But Lauren��s words weighed heavy in your head as you think of all those times when you were just look into each other eyes. And your heart and soul longed for it again.

“Oh god…..” you whisper to yourself as you can feel your stomach drop low, and the tears finally cascade down your cheeks “…..I…..I….”

…..

The next morning, you wake up early at around 8 o’clock to hop into the shower and stay there for at least an hour. Both for in everything shower, to kill some time, and to relax from the previous night. You thought long and hard about what Lauren has said, and what you had felt last night. You weren’t willing to give him that soon. Everyone feels lonely at some point, and everyone with a break up in their own way and maybe you were just feeling lonely….right?

You went downstairs into the kitchen to find your mother with a cuppa coffee, sitting alone in the kitchen, asking in the quietness of the morning. She looked at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning honey, do you want some coffee?” You sound down in the chair across from her with a sigh

“Yes please,”

“okay let me hear it,” she says very monotone way as she poured your coffee prepared the way you liked.

“ what do you mean? I-“

“Y/N, I’m your mother. I know when something is wrong and when something is on your mind. You also have the same exact contemplating face as your father. Now, come on tell mommy,”

You sigh as she sits the mug of hot coffee in front of you. You watch as the steam dances into the air in front of you. Thinking on how you'd phrase the words in your head.

"You....you were arranged to dad, right?" you asked already knowing the answer "Did...do you guys love each other? Like....I just don't understand how things could go from being absolute strangers to being in love with.....kids!"

"Well, there are times your father can REALLY push me to the edge. But then I remember the day when we were very young," she sighs looking out into the distance as if the memory was playing right in front of her "It was....about 7 months after our wedding and he had sat me down with him and we discussed some things. First was children,"

You nearly chocked on your coffee hearing her say that

"Children?" you clear your throat and she nods her head

"He asked how I felt about them. I knew I wanted kids and he did as well. Even though we were arranged he said, and I will never forget, 'No matter where you and I stand, whatever children we may have, they will never feel unprotected, unwanted or unloved and if you allow me neither will you'....."

"wow...you...you never spoke about that. And after that what happened?" you asked

"Well, we went on our first date as a couple and a couple months later your brother was on the way" she giggled into her hand "we have been through a lot but there wasn't anything that couldn't be compromised or figured out as long as we talked to one another and listened." she reaches for your hand and could feel them start to become clammy

"I......I felt my heart break the day you left fearing that you'd be miserable for the rest of your life until we somehow got you out but....the day you came back, something was different about you Y/N. I know that look in your eyes, I know what your thoughts are in that head of yours."

You squeeze her hand back "I'm scared mom.....just tell me what I'm supposed to do,"

"You know the answer sweetheart, you just need to figure out and understand it. I know you can do it Y/N, I'm your mother after all" she smiles softly at you. You stand up and so does she as you both embrace in the quietness of the kitchen. His hand rubbing up and down your back bringing back memories of when you were a child after scraping your knee and patching you up. Her scent never changing all these years as you felt like a baby soothed by the mere scent and feel of her mother.

"thank you mom....I love you," you whisper to her

"And I love you mi amor,"

After another hour of just catching up there was a ring of the doorbell. Your mother walks you to the door and bids her goodbyes to you. After she closes the door, you turn to Noah and simply stare at him

"Do I look that bad or good that you're staring?" he asked

"Mmmm like shit, you look like you haven't slept in-"

"I haven't." he cuts you off "I was too excited to bring you home," he offers his hand for you to take. You hesitate at first but soon take it as he takes your bags and walks you down the steps to his car. Helping you into the vehicle, he puts your bags in the trunk and rolls away from your old home soon after.

The drive was calm and quiet, the smell of Noah had crept around you. It was familiar smell, one that would take you back to when you'd be wrapped in his arms as he held you threw the night.

"so how did you sleep?" he asked trying to lighten the energy in the car

"Um fine, kinda weird, a little restless honestly." you admited

"awh, you miss me wrapping around you?" he asked with a soft smile

"with your cold feet? Not even a bit"

"ouch, that hurt to hear princess, I know I would miss your cold feet, because I do" he carefully reached for your hand, inch by inch slipping his own into yours. Once he realized you would let him hold your hand he relaxed and held your hand tighter. As you pull into the driveway you see Vilma outside and she looked SO happy to see you, she had a huge smile on her face. You get out of the car and she pulls you into a hug

"Oh Y/N, please if you ever leave again please take me with you!" she said coming out of the hug

"Was Noah that bad to deal with?" You giggle hugging her back feeling warm by the embrace of an old friend.

"Bad? He'd empty bottles every time he he thought about you. He hadn't played his sad records in years and don't get me started on his moaning,” she went on and you just looked at Noah with an amused look

"Vilma, *ahem* if you don't mind could you please take these upstairs while I show Y/N around?"

"I'll be sure to fill you in later," she winks going to do her task that was asked of her

"Around? I know my way in the house Noah unless, you've got some kind of secret interrogation chamber." you smirk following him up the stairs

"well, not necessarily, just some new decorations is all," he opens the door and let's you step in first, you were greeted by vases of flowers at the entrance. Filled with pale pink roses, Spring crocus and some accents of lily of the valley. The bouquet was beautiful

"Noah these are gorgeous, they give the door a nice touch,"

"oh these? These are just for here, keep going little flower," he nods ahead of you. As you walk further into the home you see every table, and surface possible. You could only gawk at every vase your eye fell upon

“Noah….they’re beautiful I….why?” You ask turning to face him again to find him with a bouquet of roses. They were all white, except for a single red rose that laid in the middle as he stepped closer he said in a hushed but strong voice

“Because you deserve it. Everything you ask of me you deserve. Every woman I’ve come across every person that’s come in my path has NEVER, compared to the person you are Y/N…” hence the single red rose “…I’m sorry. I fucked up, I hurt you and betrayed your trust and I’m sorry…please princess,”

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles breathing in your scent

“You’ve infatuated and hypnotized me completely. Do you…accept my apology?” He asks looking deeply into your eyes

“Noah…I still stand by what I said” you say firmly

“And I’m willing to meet your conditions when you ask. But for right now….i just want to apologize to you….my wife.”

“…..” you take the bouquet from his hand and set it on one of the tables and wrap your arms around him “….i forgive you Noah…” as soon as the words left your lips Noah’s arms encircle you. Holding you tight and close to his body. Afraid that if he let go, you’d leave again. He breathed you in deeply and oh how his heart raced and ached to smell you again. The way you fit in his arms and body like a perfect mold. The way the weight of body seemed to ground him and settle his troubles

“I’ve missed you….” He admits in a low whisper. You didn’t say it back….but you felt the same way. He sets you back down and kisses your forehead.

“Let me put these in water before I forget.” You said grabbing the bouquet and walking into the kitchen. Start looking for vases in the cupboards and find one that was long enough to support the stems of the flowers. As you fill up the vase with water, Noah watches you from behind. The way you moved so naturally in the kitchen, as if it were a home you had been in for years. That’s what he always wants to see and what he never wanted to let go of again. The way you smiled when you sniffed the flowers was reason enough for him to change his ways. Hell, he would even give up his entire organization if you asked him to.

However, he thinks he would rethink that because he would want to spoil you beyond belief. You smile as you finally situate the flowers in a proper vase and set them in the middle of the dining table and you look back at Noah.

He takes slow strides to you where he keeps you near the table. You hit the edge of the table with Noah leaning in to your, mere inches from your face

"Flower, tell me something," his breath brushing your lips. You hands holding some of your weight behind you on the table

"what..." you whisper back

"did you miss me?" maybe....he said kissing your cheek "dream of me?" at times.....a kiss just in front of your ear and you can't help the chill that runs through your body "Did you reach for me when you slept alone?" yes..

"I...." you swallow hard and gasp as his hand suddenly finds your waist and pulls you close to him, you chest rising and falling as his lips graze your cheek and come back to your lips, Your noses bumping each other

"noah...."

"Y/N....." he closes the aching inches between you in a heated kiss. It was long, hard and full of emotion. His other hand tangles into your hair bringing you even closer than before. His single hand nudges you and helps you to hop on to the table. He slots himself between your legs as he finally parts for a breath of air.

"If you leave me again, I would surely die..." he said against your forehead, planting another kiss

"You're so dramatic," you smile, your eyes half lidded still drunk on his kiss

"Only for you, my little flower" he picks your lips and moves across your cheek down your neck into your shoulder. He kisses along the length of your arm and down to your hand, to kiss each finger. He then leaves a kiss in the center of your palm as he gazes into your eyes.

He never breaks eye contact as he lowers himself onto his knees and kisses the side of your knee. His hands pulling you to the edge, hiking your skirt up to about your waist to expose your panties. He practically burrows his nose in your pussy and takes in a deep Breath.

He growls into the fabric of your panties “fffuck,” he sounded like a beast that was finally feeding for the first time in months. He lays his tongue flat on your pussy shaking his head no, his saliva and your juices soaking the material

“Oh god!” You gasp it had been some time since Noah had even touched you, much less since he had kissed you or "Ah!" the cool wind hits your wet fold as he moves your wet panties to the side. The tip of his nose brushed your swollen clit as his tongue slowly trails his tongue from your entrance, up between your folds and up to bring your clit into his mouth and gently suck on it

"O-oh...shit," you gasp as your hand rakes through his hair bringing him in closer and all he did was let out a muffled chuckle as he ate with more passion

"Mmmmm fuck," he mumbled against you as he lapped and sucked at your heated core

"N-Noah....f-fuck!" you moan feeling your pussy ache and pulse at him

"Mhm....that's right....say my name” he said between laps as you could feel a knot building in your lower stomach

“Mmm….do you…forgive me?….use your words…baby…” he said as he aggressively ate your pussy. A starved man on his knees with his meal being devoured in mere seconds

“Y-yes! Yes Noah! Oh!” You moan out as your voice cracked. This was definitely his way of saying sorry, on his knees, face buried and covered in your juices. Giving you the pleasure you deserved. His tongue swiping over your entrance as you clenched around nothing from his work on your pussy. He know you were close

“cum for me baby......cum...for...me" he said between lap as he sucks on your clit harder. Your moans and pants filling the space of the kitchen as your hips start to buck into his mouth slightly. Your vision goes blurry as your eyes roll back feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you like a wave. With a cry your thigh snap against his head as you lean back on the table, his mouth still helping you to ride out your high. He made sure to lick you clean, swallowing and enjoying every lick that he took

After he was down he kissed your left thigh and looked up at your chest as you try and catch your breath. You sit up on your elbows and look at him, your hair now a mess, giving you the signature "I just had sex look"

"I missed the way you taste," he smiled coming up to your face and kissing your lips, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulls you close to him once again and holds you close

"I'm sorry baby, how about you go and wash up, and we can sit down and talk?" he asked "Or..whatever you wanna do,"

"Yeah...that sounds good," he fixes your skirt and bring you off the table and kisses the side of your head. He lads you upstairs and to the bathroom as if you didn't know where it was. It was as if you had never left. All the things you left in there were still in it's place. If anything it seems as if he had stocked up on some of the things you buy. The lotion you liked, the air freshener, even your preferred size of pads/tampons. He had even kept and replaced your scrub with a new one. It was easy to say the shower was relaxing and enjoyable, you just felt so...at home, so natural.

After your shower, you hoped into your PJs and head outside. There Noah sat in his signature shorts and no shirt. His tattoos on full display. Damn, you forgot how much you loved those.

"Ready?" he asks patting the space next to him

"yeah....I'm ready," you had felt so welcomed and comfortable you nearly forgot what you had agreed to, You sit down and face him read to receive his information

"First and for more, the contract," he really wasn't wasting time here "Yes, it does state we must have a child within the first year. Yes this can get me kicked from the organization, possibly putting us both in danger. On top of that, I knew you wouldn't want kids right away or how you felt about it at all. Which is why I was trying to fight it, and why I sounded so pissed that day you heard the conversation" oh...maybe you should have heard him out that day

"Oh....oh okay, well then I'm sorry for blowing up on you and leave-"

"I'm not done, princess," he interrupts and you shut up and continue to listen

"When you had brought it up and you were packing you had done something to me that no one has. You scared me...." he admits taking a hold of your hand "I don't know what the fuck you did. Maybe you put something in my drink, my food, maybe you just manipulated me. Or maybe you just have a lot of charm" he smirked "...whatever you did, you have made me into someone I didn't recognize. I....I didn't want you to leave, I didn't want you to think I was hurting you when I wasn't and I just snapped that day...."

When he called you so many things, he saw the look on your face and immediately regretted even having a tongue to speak with. This was the woman he had begun to think of constantly when making choices, who prompted him to enhance security, who motivated him to work harder to provide her with everything…

"I never meant a single word that day princess. Not one. I....I...." he held his tongue and scooted closer to you. He looked like he was holding a deep secret that he deeply wanted to tell you but didn't "you.... mean so much more than just a piece of paper with our names on it. I want you here...with me....and I apologize for any tears that eyes shed because of me…."

"You do? You don't mind sharing the bed with a pawn?"

"A princess. I'm sharing my bed, with MY princess." he corrects you.

“So were you really crying like a teenager since I was gone?” You tease him with a smile

“You know I thought I wouldn’t miss that smart ass mouth of yours but, I really did,” he admits

“Good to know,” you said making a mental note. You were glad you got the biggest hurdle dealt with but now came the other matter

"And the people wanting to hurt me?" you asked knowing this was a sensitive and important topic. After all it triggered you leaving for a couple of days

"I'll arrange for Nick and Jolly to stop by to give us a briefing in what's going on and what we've got so far" he offered “for now I just wanted to clear up our fight. Is that alright?”

You nod your head "...okay sounds good," you look down into your lap and think for a moment. You scoot up on to your knees and shift into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist you rest your head into his shoulder and close your eyes as he hugs you back

“Thank you….” You whisper “I forgive you…”

“Of course my princess, anything your heart desires I’ll give.” He says “now what does my little flower want? Hm?”

“Let’s just stay here….for a little bit” you answer not wanting to move.

“Okay course princess,” he carefully lays back on his headboard keeping you in place. You back where you belonged. Not just in the home but in his arms as well.

That night Noah held you just a bit tighter the information you’ll learn tomorrow may scare you off. But for now those thoughts were pushed aside finally feeling you against him once again

“You’ve been eating fruits…” he said randomly

“Huh?”

“You tasted sweeter than usual today,” he said casually “or maybe you were just excited to have me eat you out-ow!” You pinched his back for ruining the moment with his dirty thoughts

“…well maybe I was a little” he smiles knowing it was true. And he planned on having seconds tomorrow morning.

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

[Taglist🥃] @darling-millicent-aubrey @daylightlvrs @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @gretaswhore28 @cowpokeomens @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986@lust-for-sacher @missduffsblog @thecartelqueen @twyftwyt @thenoahsebastianfiles @sorrowsofsilence @thescarlettvvitch @chemicallady @chemicaltendancies @shilohrosechicken @thefallennightmare @crimson-calligraphyx @calleyx13 @iknownothingpeople @lilhobgobbler @niicoleleigh @badomensls @ladispo0p @skulliecadaver-blog @malixxxmizer @kageyasma @samanthasgone @the-ancient-fae @lacktoesandtodd @blackveilomens @thebadchic @badomensbabe @dsireland86 @ebechnasheim @somewhere-diamond @hayleylatour @raydenrrobertson

#the contract by star✨#bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #badomens #bad omens cult #noahsebastian #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #star’s mutuals✨#noah sebastian #the contract #bad omens fic #noah sebastian smut

163 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 2 years

Note

Can I request a Steve x reader fic with their "six nuggets"

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬

☆ word count: 2.2K+ (it ran away from me!!!) ☆

tags: dad and husband!Steve x fem!reader, cool uncle!Eddie and cool aunt!Robin, domestic bliss, fluff with smidge of implied smut at the end, this made me feel so fucking soft anon ur a genius x

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Steve doesn't need an alarm clock to wake him up in the mornings anymore, he's found.

No, ever since marrying you and having six kids, at least one of them is bound to wake him up if he hasn't already risen for the day. Sometimes it's his oldest, Heather, pulling back the curtains and chastising him under her breath that her ballet practice starts in an hour and he's still in bed. Other times it's the twins - Scott and Cory - brown tussels of curly hair peeking from the side of the bed as they excitedly tug at his sleeves, reminding him that he's chaperoning their school trip for the day.

But today it's his youngest, five year old Dianna, crawling into the empty space next to him and gently patting his chest to wake him up.

"Daddy." she says, shaking him awake with her small hands. At the sound of his youngest child's voice Steve wakes up in an instant, fatigue dissipiating as he quickly sits up with a tired smile.

"Morning, sweetheart." Steve says, heart overflowing with adoration with the way his daughter then giggles, jumping into his embrace, her neatly pulled back hair tickling his bare neck. "Where's momma?" he questions, pulling back to admire how adorable she looks with a red ribbon tied into her hair.

"She's making breakfast and asked me to come get you." Dianna dutifully responds, proud at her accomplishment. It makes him sigh contentedly, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"And so you did. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

She nods fervently and nearly slips on the wooden floor with how fast she runs down the hallway in her fuzzy socks, making Steve yell out for her to slow down. Amused at the five year old's antics, he shakes his head sideways in resign whilst getting dressed for the day: argyle black socks, blue linen pants secured with a darkened belt, white polo shirt with collars tucked in to his waist.

When Steve finally trods down the staircase you're humming along to a song flowing from the radio, Dianna perched on the kitchen counter with Heather next to her brushing out her younger sister's hair. The twins are arguing about a soccer match on the couch whilst Colton - second oldest and star football player - is helping set the table whilst you cook. The only person he doesn't see is his second youngest, Madison, until he feels someone run into him at full speed and embrace his legs from below.

"Morning, dad!" Madison gleefully quips, ever so the morning person. Steve chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair fondly.

"Morning, Mads. Did you get a good night's sleep?"

She nods eagerly, practically bouncing up and down on her heels.

"I did! I went to bed early because the auditions for the musical is today!"

Steve gasps in awe, patting his daughter's head tenderly before sitting down on a nearby chair.

"Is it? What's the musical?" he asks, letting out a soft groan when Madison excitedly clambers onto his lap, awkward elbows digging into his lap as she climbs him.

"Once Upon a Mattress!"

"She's been singing all the songs for about a week, pops. I can't believe you haven't noticed." Heather notes from the back, turning around briefly to address him. Steve chuckles, lightly bopping Madison's nose.

"Well princess, I'm positive that you're going to do so well. You're going to blow all their socks off."

The sound of the stove being turned off catches everyone's attention, in addition to you calling out to everyone that breakfast is ready. All the younger kids dash to the long wooden table, playfully pushing against each other and arguing over who gets to sit next to you and Steve, whilst Heather and Colton help you bring over the stack of food from the kitchen. Amongst the chaos of getting all the kids to settle down and quickly eat their food, you're left to give Steve a quick kiss on the lips, hurried but still sweet and loving.

"Morning, handsome." you tease, winking at him as you set down the last stack of waffles. He grins at you, wrinkle lines by his lips.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Ew, mom and dad just kissed in front of us!" one of the twins, Scott, yells out, scrunching his face. It elicits most of the younger kids to also frown in disgust and pout immaturely, commenting on how 'gross' it is to see you two kiss, whilst it only makes Colton roll his eyes and Heather to laugh out loud in amusement.

"Hush and eat your breakfast." you chastise your children, stabbing your fork into your plate of strawberries and pointing it towards them. "All of you have a very busy day today and I don't want anyone to be late."

Breakfast is quickly devoured over small talk of what everyone's up to - Heather's date with Angelina, Colton's upcoming SAT exam and college scouts attending his final game, the twins talking everyone's ears off over wanting to learn guitar like uncle Eddie - and the moment the clock strikes half past eight, there's a rush of bodies up and down the stairs as you place all the dirty dishes in the sink.

Steve is the one to zip up the twins' jackets and to tie Madison's shoelaces when a familiar vehicle shows up by the front porch, accompanied by an obnoxious honking.

"There's my favorite little rascals!" Eddie shouts from his van as the twins and Madison quickly scurry towards him, each of them hugging Eddie's waist and squeezing his body tightly. Eddie's grin is bright and wide, hands patting against the kids' backs, before he looks up.

"Steve. The better Harrington." Eddie says to Steve and you respectively, winking at you.

You laugh, leaning against the doorframe as Steve scowls and places a protective arm around your waist - but it's playful, and everyone knows he doesn't mean it.

"Thanks for agreeing to drive the kids today." you say, pulling the cardigan closer towards you as the autumn breeze rolls in.

"Nah, it's nothing. Anything for my favorite married couple."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that so Vickie and I don't get offended." Robin adds from the side, leaning against her car. "Is Dianna ready to go?" she questions, only for the young girl to come barreling out the door and slam herself against Robin's legs.

"Hi auntie Robin!"

"Hiya hun, look at you with your cool bumblee socks and everything." Robin coos, leaning down to be eye-level with the young girl. Steve frowns at that, looking back towards you.

"I thought you were driving her."

You shrug, stepping one step closer towards Steve.

"Well, since Heather will be out late with her date tonight, Colton can drive himself now and Eddie's taking Mads and the twins... I figured we could have a date night all to ourselves." you slowly explain, deft fingers brushing against his cheeks. "So I called Robin."

"You owe me, Harrington number one." Robin warns and then winks, pointing at Steve, before letting Dianna into the backseat and getting into the driver's seat herself.

Pressing a soft kiss onto Heather's forehead as she rushes out the door and giving Colton a firm hug as he dangles the keys to his own BMW, the once bustling Harrington household is plunged back into silence in a mere matter of minutes. Steve blinks slowly before closing the door behind him, a soft grin appearing on his face.

"You little vixen." he murmurs quietly, pinning you down on the couch as you let out a squeal of joy upon feeling your back hit the soft cushions. "Spontaneous date night with all the kids handled? How do you do it?"

His hair's falling over his eyes as he stares at you fondly, boyish smirk marking his pink lips.

"Hm... Can't take all the credit. Eddie and Robin stepping in helps, but I guess it also helps that I'm an awesome wife." you tease, trailing your fingers down his arms, tracing the faint outline of his upper muscles. The flickers of infatuation in his eyes still never fails to send a chill down your spine, stomach afloat with butterflies.

Steve's aged beautifully, too. Slight wrinkles on his calloused hands, faded smile lines adorning his cheekbones, grey hairs peeking in between brown ruffles of hair. His wedding ring is cool against your cheek when he leans down and presses his lips to yours, moulding his mouth against yours, elicting a soft moan from your mouth.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful." he growls, left hand digging into your hips, slipping underneath your sundress in one swoop. You bat at his arms, giggling.

"Says you, Stevie. You're just as gorgeous as the first day we met."

He hums, leaning forward close to enough to brush his nose against yours, eyes not leaving your lips.

"Hm, if only you from the 80's could hear you saying that now. Probably would have a heart attack and insist there's no way you would fall in love with, and I quote, the biggest douchebag of Hawkins High."

You roll your eyes at his comment.

"Please. I'd pay good money to see 'King' Harrington's reaction back then. Old you probably would have had an aneurysm at the mention of marrying me and having six kids."

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, raising his eyebrows.

"Old me would have an aneurysm but not out of disgust, babe. Old me still had a huge crush on you, so he'd probably be spiraling on the floor, giddy with happiness and shock."

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you bring him down for another kiss, this one more slow and tender. It's the kind of kiss that has any smart quips he's prepared to die in Steve's mouth, mind completely preoccupied with how good you taste - strawberry chapstick and leftover maple syrup from breakfast - as well as how warm and soft your pilant body feels underneath him.

"I love you, Steve Harrington. Thank you for giving me this life and our beautiful six kids." you breathe against his lips, stroking his cheeks.

"I should be the one thanking you, doll. Our six little nuggets wouldn't have been born without you doing all the hard work. All I did was... deposit a lil something at the beginning." he shrugs sheepishly, making you laugh and smack him in the chest lightly.

"Ugh, that's such a disgusting way of describing how conception works."

He hums, amused, before biting at your bare shoulder lovingly.

"Mm, but it's true, isn't it?"

He shifts to sit you on his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist as he sits upright.

"We're such a great team, baby. Each of our kids, they're... smart, kind, good-hearted, talented... They're the best parts of both of us combined." he trails off, eyes glazing over with happy tears which he quickly blinks away (you pretend not to notice). "God, I have no idea how we got so lucky."

You let the sentiment hang in the air for a bit, the awed expression on his face too sweet to wipe away quickly.

"You're such a sap, Steve. I fear for what you'll do on the day of Heather's graduation." you tease, making him groan, head falling forward into the crevice of your neck.

"Oh, don't remind me. Our little girl's going off to college in a month's time." he moans, devastated. It makes you laugh, the down trodden eyes and the 'kicked puppy' expression on his face as he mopes openly.

"She's 18, Stevie. She has a girlfriend, she's got her own car and a driver's license, her own debit account... Besides, New York isn't that far away." you try to reason with him, but he still pouts.

"Still. That's too far. I can't stand the thought of any of our nuggets being so far away from us." he groans into your skin. You tut, running your fingers through his hair whilst massaging his scalp just the way he likes.

"What shall we ever do then, dear husband... Colton's going to follow suit in less than a year, then it'll be Scott and Cory off together, then Madison and even Dianna in the future-"

His head shoots up at that, an unreadable look glazing over his eyes.

"You're right." he whispers, left arm coming up to tug at the sleeves of your sundress whilst his lips brush against your collarbone. "We gotta have more kids so we'll never be alone."

"Steve-"

His lips are already sucking on bare skin, wet lips marking his territory as you feel his hands travel lower.

"Steve, as much as I'm enjoying this, I put in a reservation for us at the spa uptown-"

"When is it?" he questions, not even looking up from where he's kissing you - right underneath your ear, dark spots already forming around your neck.

"I-in, fuck, half an hour." you manage to stumble out, already feeling pleasure rush in. He smirks at that, grabbing your thighs.

"Then we have plenty of time."

"C-can't, we'll be late-" you try to reason with him, but all protests die in your mouth when Steve stands back up and kisses you squarely on the mouth.

"I'll be quick. Promise."

He wasn't. And you two end up being 20 minutes late.

-> a/n: if you're wondering how I went about the kids - thought it'd be cute to have a neat 3 girls and 3 boys split, and I chose the names based on US data on most popular baby names of the 90s.

ngl i loved writing this and am tempted to expand it into a universe with blurbs/oneshots connecting all the stories: idk lmk if that sounds gucci

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #1k #2k

3K notes · View notes

theendisneat · 10 months

Text

Set in Stone [Pt.2 (Arranged Marriage Series)]

Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

Word Count: 759

Warnings: None

Two years have passed since the joining of you and your husband. It was… blissful, to say the least. Morax was an admirable husband, always vying to take care of you and shower you with meaningful gifts and silent gestures of love.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate.

Falling for your husband was a breeze once you gave up your useless grudge. The way he held you so softly, how he told stories with articulate and imaginative descriptions, or how he would press a beautiful set of intricately carved jade earrings to the palm of your hand saying he saw them in the market and they reminded him of you.

You cooked him meals, needled out what he liked and didn’t, trying to give him what he loved. You rubbed his hands when he got home, listened to him complain about the stressful duties of being an archon, and on days he was particularly moody, you would sunbathe with him in the garden, leaning against the slender, scaly dragon body.

You had your disputes, sure. But as it turns out, neither of you were ill-tempered or irrational and were able to work it out perfectly well (if not a little rocky at times).

It was an easy afternoon, the Liyuen sun shining brightly through the windows of your home when your husband came back from work. You had been reading a short fantasy novel, lounging across the couch when the door opened.

Your eyes lifted to find your husband standing in front of you with a small smile on his pretty, thin lips, arms hiding something behind his back.

“Husband, welcome home.” You offered him a nice smile in return.

“I have a gift for you.” His smile widened and you couldn’t help your heart melting..

“So I see. What is it?” Morax motioned for you to hold your hands out. You followed his instructions and he placed a thin, dark wood box in your palms.

You sighed with exasperated fondness. “Another necklace? Husband-”

“This one is special.” Morax took a seat next to you, his hands on your thighs, watching you. You didn’t think you’d ever seen your husband this excitable.

You opened up the box to reveal a glowing cor lapis on a silver chain. The cor lapis was carved like a precious stone, held in delicate silver prongs as emitted a soft orange glow; a glow that reminded you of the warmth in a sunset. The chain was the perfect length so it would rest at the top of your sternum.

“It’s gorgeous, but why is it glowing?” You dangled the necklace in front of you as you looked at him with confusion in your eyes.

“I never asked you to marry me.” Morax began. You were about to speak but he raised a hand, requesting your silence. “It is the one thing in our marriage that I regret. Over these past few weeks, I have been speaking to my fellow adepti about the creation of a special object.”

You back went ramrod straight as Morax slid to his knees in front of you, cupping your hands. “Morax-”

“I love you. Deeply. And now, I wanted to ask you properly if you wished to spend the years with me.” He took a breath, eyes fluttering as he attempted to gain his bearings. “This necklace, should you choose to wear it, will make you immortal. Not to say that if you do not wish to wear it that I will decide you do not love me nor will I try to force it on you-”

“Morax-”

“I merely mean to ask… would you spend forever with me?”

You gasped and that was when you noticed the tears falling down your cheeks. You gently placed the necklace in your lap, leaning forward to cup your husband’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss. You smiled into his lips and you could feel him doing the same.

“This is how your first proposal should’ve gone.”

You heard his shaky breath. “Is that a yes?”

You pressed your forehead to his. “Yes.”

The necklace sat cool against your skin and you couldn’t help but unconsciously smile at the feeling.

“What is it, my love?” Zhongli asked from the dining table, a cup of cooling tea by his paperwork from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

“Nothing.” You said softly, cutting some sunsettia in neat pieces, dropping them in a bowl. You set it down next to the tea and Zhongli thanked you with pretty amber eyes full of years of adoration. “Just reminiscing.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin fluff #fluff #marriage #arranged marriage #immortality #series #fanfic

181 notes · View notes

fanmoose12 · 2 years

Note

Addition to the previous ask. What if Armins is confused on why Hanji has become sick in the mornings and could not come to early briefings. Historia hearing what happened to Hanji immediately knows what is wrong and tells Armin which sets up the whole, Hanji is pregnant? Who is the father?

The 104th kids finding out about Hanji being pregnant and confronts her is she's alrighr and if she needs anything. Hanji is surprised but thinks she could be pregnant based on her symptons. When asked how she could be so calm about this, she tells them that's just normal for married people.

Hence, another confused shouts of her being married. Hanji trying to calm them down. Levi somewhere in the city trying to buy tea leaves when he feels a chill down his spine.

It is only morning but the weather is warm already and the outside world seems so blissfully sunny that it is almost criminal, at least in Armin's opinion, to have him spend it inside his small and stuffy office in the capital.

He'd rather spend it in their apple orchard, getting drunk on the aroma of peonies and Annie's sweet perfume. She's still by his side, so soft and pliant, snoring so adorably into his chest. Armin smiles, as he pushes one blonde lock away from her face. He allows himself nothing more - his usually serene Annie can become a beast, if her sleep is disturbed, and gets off their bed.

Immediately, she snuggles into the pillow that still holds his warmth, and once again Armin laments that he has to leave. Definitely a crime, he decides when he exits the bedroom; he'd have to speak with Historia about it, maybe implement some sort of punishment. Working on such a fine day is definitely an offence worthy the worst kind of penalties.

But someone is coming to the capital, for the first time after being away for almost a year, someone hardworking and brilliant, and being absent from his dear fiance for a few hours is definitely a price Armin would pay to receive a chance to converse with Hange Zoe again.

The thrilling prospect gives him enough motivation to brush his teeth, take a shower and get dressed in his best suit - blue in color, since Annie insists that it brings out his eyes. He's in the process of brushing his hair, when she herself emerges from the bedroom: wrapped in a blanket and still blinking sleepily.

"Good luck," she mumbles, before pecking him on a cheek. "You'll do great but- wipe that creepy grin from your lips."

Armin checks himself in the wardrobe mirror - his smile is actually a bit too wide, but Hange is coming to town! He simply can't help it! For Annie, though, he tries his best to dim his expression. "Better?" he asks, placing a hat on his head.

Annie fixes it, with a critical look on her face. "A little. Keep it in mind, though. Oh, and-" she straightens his lapels - "don't forget about cinnamon rolls. You know, the ones from the bakery near Queen's residency."

Armin makes a mental note about that, Annie absolutely adores her cinnamon rolls and her face - covered in powder and with a blissful smile on her lips - is absolutely the sight he would die for.

"I'll be home by six," he promises and then kisses her on the lips - her morning breath be damned. "Say hi to Pieck if you see her."

Then he is gone, a briefcase clasped securely in his hand, excited spark lightening up in his eyes. Hange Zoe comes back to town - and Armin rushes to her, like a schoolboy runs to his favorite teacher.

---

When Armin arrives, he's almost late; at least - compared to the others. Jean, Connie and Sasha are already waiting near the entrance to Historia's quarters, leaning against the concrete wall. Jean holds a cigarette in between his fingers, puffing it slowly. Armin doesn't approve - the smell is atrocious and it looks like Jean doesn't even enjoy the process, just indulges in the vice to keep up with an appearance of a cool guy, but Armin doesn't scold him either; Jean puts out the cigarette as soon as Armin is in his vicinity, and, in the end, it's his own life and health.

"So?" Armin nods at his friends; barely contains his excitement. "Is she here?"

"Has been since early morning, or so the guards tell me," Jean says.

Sasha claps her hands together, all but jumping with happiness. "Let's hurry then! Oh, I can't wait to see Hange-san! It's been so long."

Connie seems just as thrilled. "Do you think we'll see Captain Levi as well? I mean there are no barracks for us to clean so seeing him..."

"Will be a pleasure," Armin agrees, waits for Jean to throw the cigarette butt away, then lets his friends go inside the building first. "We need to go on the second floor. Fourth door on the left."

Sasha turns to gawk at him, now walking backwards. "They let Hange-san have her own office?"

Armin shrugs good-heartedly. "She used to be a Commander of Survey Corps. And, technically, she's the one who brought Marley and Paradise to work as one. That, at the very least, warrants a separate office."

"I'm actually surprised she got out of it," Connie chuckles. "I always thought that our Hange-san will quit working only in case of death."

"She still works, I heard," Sasha scratches her chin. "Something- um, something related to the maurine fauna?"

"That, or microscopic creatures? Something that excites her anyway," Jean says, and Armin makes sure to commit that piece of information to memory - everything Hange studies is worth his attention. Then Jean adds, "by the way does someone know - Captain still lives with her?"

Connie hastens to get in front of the group on the stairs, and says, "I'm pretty sure he still does. I mean-" he rubs at the back of his neck - "someone has to look after him, right?"

"Just don't mention it in front of him, dummy," Sasha chastises, slapping Connie on a forearm. "But I've heard about it too - Captain Levi does share the house with Hange. They're like Connie and I!" she brings him in for a quick hug, despite his abundant protests. "Together till the grave!"

Jean raises a sceptic eyebrow. "And what about Niccolo?"

Sasha huffs - so indignant, as though a mere doubt hurts her to the core. "Niccolo is my heart!" she declares proudly. "And my stomach- maybe. But Connie!" she smooches his shaved head. "Oh, he's my soul!"

"Maybe," Armin tries, all too quiet in comparison to his companions. "Captain Levi is all that for Hange-san?"

The trio laughs at him - almost in unison. After a second, Armin chuckles too, joining on their fun. Captain Levi and Hange-san? Together? What could be more ludicrous?

---

They wait until Historia and Mikasa arrive on a balcony on the second floor. Sasha and Connie had just started a surprisingly competitive game of tug and chase, almost pulling Jean in it, when Mikasa shows up.

Jean immediate straightens, like a soldier on a parade, and puts on the most bored yet handsome face Armin has ever seen. He has to give him credit for that, and - maybe - also ask for some advices later. Or give some himself, because surely, if he ever tried something like that on Annie, she'd be chuckling about it even on his deathbed.

Mikasa smiles too, just briefly, and when the Queen, at last, makes her entrance, shockingly - without her baby, she leads them to the door of Hange's office, knocking on it decisively.

The muffled 'come in!' sounds instantly, and Armin has but a second to pull himself together and remember - wipe that creepy grin - before he tumbles inside, propelled forward by impatient Sasha, and finds himself in tight clutches that he quickly identifies as Hange Zoe's famous suffocating hug.

"My dears!" she all but gushes. "Come here, come here. I missed you all so, so much."

Armin did too, as he is sure did all of his friends. The island's been too quiet without Hange's shrill voice.

"If you missed them so," comes a deep and gruff voice that Armin too recognizes instantly, despite not hearing it for almost a year. "You should have come back much sooner."

"Levi," Hange huffs, stops her smothering of Connie to admonish him a tired look. "You know that my work is important."

"More important than people who care about you? Or your own health?"

This feels like an argument that's been steering for too long, and discussed almost daily. Armin nearly bursts into laughter as he looks over Sasha's head and meets Mikasa's eyes.

"Some things never change, eh?" Jean remarks dryly, and now all of them - except Captain, of course - break into giggles. But even he shows a smile - small and quick to disappear, but Armin's keen eyes pick up on it all the same.

"It's good to see you," Levi says, as he rolls his wheelchair forward and shakes everyone's hands. "Although, you all are so big I don't think I can even call you brats anymore."

"Aw, you absolutely can!" Sasha assures him with a wide smile. "By now, it's actually endearing."

Levi shares a look with Hange then, as though telling her, "Look what weirdos we raised up," and Armin is hit by a huge wave of- of something - of affection, nostalgia and gratitude that it was those two exceptional people that helped him become the man who he is today.

"How have you been?" Historia asks, dragging Jean, Sasha and Connie to take a seat at the sofa in the corner of the office. Armin and Mikasa occupy the two chairs that stand by Hange's desk.

"Oh, you know," Captain makes a vague gesture. "It's almost the same - I look after the house, make sure that this weirdo over here," he jerks his thumb at Hange, and she makes a face at him in retaliation. Armin hides a smile. "Doesn't die from something stupid and easily avoidable. Although, I do have to say that cleaning time has reduced severely, now that I only have to clean our shit."

"Just you two in the house then?" Mikasa asks, and it doesn't escape Armin - that look she shares with Sasha.

"Just the two of us," Hange replies, with a sigh - almost dreamy? Content? Armin catalogues it for later. "But now that we came back-"

"The boring ones stay with four-eyes. And everyone else is invited to have a tea with me and catch up."

"I'm not boring. I'm fascinating." Hange turns to Armin, her gaze adopting a puppy-eyed look. "Am I not right?"

"You're right, as always," he answers truthfully, and Hange absolutely beams. She sticks her tongue at Levi, and he sighs warily, but relents quickly and pats her head affectionately.

And that- that familiarity, that flawless back-and-forth, easy banter and certain knowledge of each other's boundaries - Armin knows it. He and Annie have all of it, but- but, Annie and he are together, romantically involved. They are so far away from Hange and Levi are. Maybe, it's years and years of knowing each other then, that makes their relationship appear so comfortable.

After all, they've always been the same way. It's only Armin's new perspective that now shines a different light on it all.

It's their Hange-san and Captain Levi, in the end. Them being in love? What could be more ludicrous?

---

He and Jean are the only one who stay behind with Hange, everyone else has moved to the Queen's living room, but Hange-san- doesn't seem to be insulted by it in the slightest. On the contrary, her eye shines brightly, as she shares with Armin and Jean her latest discoveries.

And it's- invigorating, she pulls them into her orbit so swiftly Armin barely notices it. She's brilliant - in every way, one of the few people who can interest him and not only keep up with him in a conversation, but actually pose a challenge to his intellect.

But it's all too soon, unfortunately, that the others come back. Armin is nearly devastated that their conversation was cut off too short. And his surprise is enormous, when he learns that they've been talking for almost two hours.

"There," Captain Levi is by Hange's side in an instant, eerily quiet despite his wheelchair. He puts a cup of tea before her, and pushes it closer insistently. "Your throat must be dry like sand, from all that talking."

And that tiny moment - Armin knows it too; Annie always brings him coffee and cookies, when he has to deal with paperwork for too long. What does it mean, he thinks, that his relationship with Annie resembles that between his ex-superiors so much?

Hange thanks Levi with a small tap on his shoulder and quiet smile, grateful but not surprised in the slightest, like that same scene between them had replayed a dozen of times before.

It had, now Armin he remembers it swiftly: the many-many nights he had spent in the office of Commander Hange and Captain Levi, who despite his own numerous duties, had always found the time to ensure that their brave leader remained sated and healthy. And even now it doesn't seem to change, even though duty doesn't bound them anymore.

This loyalty- is inspiring, if nothing more. And begs for a few questions.

Is it - just friendship and loyalty? Or is there something bigger that they up until now has been oblivious to?

"Forgive me, my dears," Hange's gentle voice cuts through his convoluting thoughts. "I would love nothing more than to stay and chat with all of you for a little longer, but there are others who, I'm sure, have missing us even more. And though I'm quite positive they are in no hurry," her smiles wobbles, ever so slightly, and Captain presses a finger to her forearm, offering his silent support. "I'm as eager as ever to talk to them."

"She'd bore Berner to the second death with her lectures," Levi snorts, and his joke, as deadpan as it is, lifts the mood in the room once again.

"You have my full permission," Hange huffs lightheadedly, "to request the kids' help and drag me back home."

"Don't think I won't do it, four-eyes," Captain warns, and Hange laughs, as she stands up.

And Armin notices instantly - something's not right. Or, more precisely, something is not the way it used to be. Before Hange stood with her back straight, and only in moments of deep concentration or awful exhaustion could she allow herself to relax her posture and put a hand on her hip.

Now, though, she stands with a hand on her side, prepping up her back, and her stance- is not exhausted, not exactly, but it's not utterly relaxed either. Hange carries herself strangely, as though her own body has grown unfamiliar to her.

As though she is dragged down by a weight that wasn't there before.

Armin knows, he's not seeing things, everyone noticed it too and now all of them wear the almost identical lost expressions. Silence over the rooms, drags on forward, wedges on a side of being uncomfortable, almost tense, but-

The day is saved flawlessly, by their amazing Queen.

"Don't forget to come over for tea," Historia says, and Armin blinks, shifting his intense (creepy, Annie's voice chides in his head) gaze from Hange's stomach. "The little one can't eager to meet you."

"Oh, we won't be strangers, don't worry," Hange puts on her hat, then helps Levi with his. Armin watches it keenly, something akin to revelation brewing inside him. "Armin, Jean and I yet have much to discuss, and I'm sure-" she giggles, patting Levi's shoulder. "Our shorty will undoubtedly find some errand for the others to run with him."

"We'll be honoured," Jean slightly bowes, and Hange smiles at him one last time, before helping Levi with making their exit.

A bit of silence follows, before Connie asks, as unsure as Armin himself feels, "So Hange-san... she's eating well?"

"Connie!" Sasha shrieks and slaps him on the arm. "You can't say things like that!"

"But he's right," Mikasa says quietly. "Hange-san does seem..." she falters, not quite finding the suited word.

"A bit chubbier?" Jean comes to the rescue, wincing as he does so. "Plumpier?"

"She must be eating something real tasty..." Sasha whispers, her eyes lightening up almost fervently.

And he's the one with a creepy smile, Armin shakes his head. At imaginary Annie in his head and at his friends too. They're wrong, Armin thinks, Hange got more round, that's true. But that's not the core of the problem, that's not what has changed. Then what exactly has changed?

"You dimwits," Historia chides softly. Her eyes twinkle brightly, like she knows something they don't. Perhaps, she truly does. Armin waits with a baited breath. "Hange-san isn't fat. She is pregnant."

Again, the silence follows. But this one is broken by Connie's loud yell.

"What!"

And accompanied by Jean's disbelieving. "Hange-san? It can't be!"

"No, no," Sasha shakes her head. "Historia might just be right. I remember when mom was pregnant with my little bro. She looked a lot like Hange-san does now, at least, in the beginning. Oh no," she draws a hand across her face, takes a deep breath, "she really is pregnant. We are going to have a little brother."

"Or a sister," Jean objects.

"Or maybe both!" Connie finishes merrily.

They all share a smile that diminish, when Mikasa, innocently sipping on her tea, asks, "Who do you think is the father?"

Jean chokes on his own tea, and Armin too is shocked to the core by that seemingly logical question. Of course, if Hange-san is pregnant, then someone else must be involved in the process. It is perfectly logical, natural. But somehow just thinking about it gives Armin a whiplash.

"So..." Connie drums his fingers against the table. "Drinks at our place?"

They all nod eagerly.

---

Opinions were passed around the table, along with the alcohol.

"Maybe, it's Onyankopon?" Historia offers, thanking Connie for pouring her a glass of sweet wine. "They used to be pretty close..."

"Wouldn't he come with her to the island then?" Jean reasons. "Onyankopon seems like a good man, and a good man would never do that. If I ever got someone pregnant," he declares, and even tipsy, Armin doesn't miss the look of longing Jean sends Mikasa's way. "I wouldn't abandon them even for a second."

He makes sense, ruining Historia's theory, and they all drink to that, each staring into their glass.

"Then..." Sasha tries. "Hange-san met someone during her travels?"

"Why didn't she introduced them to us?" Mikasa questions. "Besides," she softly chuckles, playing with a rim of her glass. "I think Captain would have had that someone else's head, if they treated Hange-san so negligently."

Armin takes another sip of wine as he mulls over it. Would their Captain, who is famous for looking after oftentimes careless scientist, really let someone get so close to her? Armin tries to imagine it, along with a scene of Captain giving that someone the good old 'if you ever hurt her' speech. He is not a proud man, and he admits readily that if he were that someone, he'd probably shit his pants. As Captain would have called it.

But if it's not someone new...

"I've got it!" Connie yells out suddenly, slamming a palm on the table and startling everyone around it. "It's Flegel!"

"Flegel?" everyone mouths the name in confusion, and only Historia seems to know the man behind that name. She makes a face at the mere mention, a quiet whine slipping from her lips.

They all - almost simultaneously - turn to look at her.

"He's a son of that bastard Reeves," she says, and both her and Armin take a gulp of wine, washing down unwanted memories. "He's a nicer man than his father, though. And I know he's very fond of Hange-san, but ugh..." she shakes her head. "He's such a bother! Comes to my office almost daily, requesting permission for this and that."

"He's- fond of Hange-san?" Sasha asks, the rest of Historia's words flying right through her. "He is the father then! Hange-san must come to the island to reunite with him."

Armin has a dozen - or even more - arguments against this particular claim, but all of them are just on the verge of being past tipsy, so when Connie proposes to go and talk with that Flegel, no one finds the words to protest.

---

The evening already rolls around, the setting sun throwing red beams on the walls, when they finally reach Flegel's home in the capital. It is not just a house, though, Armin notes. It looks more like a mansion, and that observation- gives him a pause.

He can imagine a child playing in that pretty garden they pass through on their way to the front door quite clearly, he can even see Hange-san, elbow deep in the soil, getting out only to write down some notes. But he cannot, for the love of him, picture Hange-san and her baby - almost identical ball of energy - existing in this giant house that is as grand as it is soulless.

The little cabin he knows Hange shares with Captain Levi seems so much like her. Does she really love that Flegel then?

The light in the house is on, when their group approaches, and Sasha quickly glances over at Connie, before she knocks on a door.

The man opens it after a moment, smiling expectantly. A butler, Armin guesses, although this one is dressed far more casually than the one that works for Historia.

"How can I help you?" the man asks. His eyes scan their group, until finally- they find its target. His smile grows tenfold, as he cries out, "Your Majesty! It is such an honor!"

He opens the door wider, letting them pass, and frets over Historia's outwear and her drink of choice, before he darts away, calling out Flegel's name.

They all hold their breathes, waiting for Flegel to emerge and hoping - that he'd do so with Hange by his side.

When Flegel comes out to greet them, he really isn't alone. A hand is wrapped around his waist, but it's not Hange's, it's- the butler's that actually isn't a butler.

Some sigh, some shake their heads, disappointed, Connie actually curses out loud, and Flegel watches them with growing confusion, stuttering out a quiet, "M-my Queen?"

"Forgive us for interrupting your evening," Historia recovers swiftly and smiles, the literal picture of grace. "But I've been just telling my friends about your wonderful wine..."

"Not another word!" Flegel raises a finger. "I don't have much at my place, but the best bottle yet is in my cellar, I'll have it brought to you in just a moment."

He turns to his servant, barking orders, and im meanwhile Historia shrugs and looks at her friends.

"At least, we got more wine," she mouths.

It is a disappointingly small conciliation, but- good wine is hard to come by. Hopefully, it'll be just sweet enough to wash away the bitter taste of their disappointment.

---

The bottle of Flegel Reeves' best wine expends fairly quickly, on a bench near the oak tree. Connie is just finishing the last drop, when he starts swinging the bottle around, and yells out, "That Flegel! Old bastard! Jean, me and you," he pulls Jean in by his shoulder, and hard as he tries to resist his friend, Jean simply is not strong enough to do so. "We should have beaten him up, for our Hange-san! How dares he-"

"Connie, Connie," Sasha shushes him, and carefully takes the bottle away, passing it onto Mikasa. "You realize that Flegel isn't the father? He isn't cheating on Hange-san."

"Oh..." Connie's eyes round up. All his anger melts instantly. He tilts his head, looking up at Sasha. "He's not?"

"No, you blabbering idiot," Jean smacks him on the head, now finally having strength to pull away. "We're back to square one, with no clue who is the father."

"Maybe, we can just ask?" Mikasa says simply. Everyone gawks at her - despite the simplicity of her solution. To add to their flabbergasted state, she adds, "Actually, I'm pretty sure that Hange-san will tell us everything herself."

Mikasa is a genius, Armin decides, and all of them are bunch of idiots. What mystery are they even trying to solve, if in due time, it all will come out anyway?

"You are our guiding light," he whispers to her, presses a kiss to her hand, and, while Mikasa is blushing prettily, Jean is getting lost in watching it, and Historia is bickering with Sasha and Connie, he leaves their ranks, to head to the bakery that is just a street away.

He might come home late, terribly drunk and embarrassing, but at least, he'll come home with the cinnamon rolls his fiance had asked him for.

He tries to be swift as possible about it, not wanting to leave his friends alone for too long, but by the time he comes back, he finds them all back on their feet, moving away from that bench they were sitting with clear intent in their stride.

Hugging the package from bakery to his chest tightly, Armin catches up with them, and at his question that comes out, accompanied by a heavy pant, Connie answers, "Historia got us a hefty discount. We're going to the best restaurant in whole Sina!"

"Hey!" Sasha kicks him, and Connie quickly corrects himself, "Best restaurant in whole Sina, after Niccolo's, of course."

Armin hums, and follows after them contently. Of course, he'd be just - if not more - content to go home to his Annie, but it's so rare when all of them gather together like this, and even rarer when the cause for it is something so lighthearted.

The restaurant is packed, naturally, but after just one smile from Historia, the stuff find them a table and swear to bring their orders in almost no time.

Armin twiddles his thumbs, half-heartedly participating in a conversation with Jean and Historia, and looks around the room. The guests here are dressed so much better than him that he almost feels embarressed. One couple, however, stands out of the crowd, their fashion actually very similar to Armin. He squints his eyes, trying to get a better a look at them, when-

"Guys!" Connie outpaces him, attracting everyone's attention. He motions them to get closer, his voice hushed and excited, as he says, "It's them! It's Hange-san and Captain Levi! They're here!"

Instantly, all of them turn their heads in that direction, and become witnesses to Hange feeding Levi her soup. The mere act of their stoic Captain having someone to spoon-feed him is startling enough, but then, as if previous deed wasn't enough, a small drip of soup trickles down his face, and Hange-san, with no hesitation at all, licks it away and then presses a kiss to the same place.

Their table is engulfed in silence, as they stare at the scene, eyes getting rounder and rounder, because Levi - their Captain Levi, who made them clean toilets if he noticed a single speck of dirt on the floor - doesn't slap Hange's hands away, doesn't hiss and curse, barely chastices her. And then they carry on, with whatever conversation they were having. As if nothing have happened.

"My god..." Sasha mumbles, barely above a whisper. "So Captain and Hange-san- are they together? He is the father?"

"Looks like we're getting an actual sibling," Connie jokes, but no one laughs, too shocked to do so.

Armin is bewildered himself. It makes sense, he supposes, they live together, after all, they've been by each other's side even before he got to know them, but somehow this simple truth... appears too fantastical to be true.

Hange-san and Captain Levi, they were together for so long that the fact that they are, in fact, together sends them all in turmoil. But it's quite logical, on the other hand. They were just too blind to see.

"Should we let them know that we know?" Historia asks, leaning over the table. "Congratulate them or something?"

"No need," they all jump in their seats, when that voice appears. How can he remain so quiet, even on a wheelchair will be forever a mystery to Armin. "You brats are just as loud as you always were."

"But they've grown more observed," Hange says, and when Jean notices that she too has approached, he scooches over to let her sit down. She does, with a heavy sigh. "We were going to tell you tomorrow," she says, her hand quickly, seemingly without her even realizing it, wrapping around Levi's. Another hand falls on her stomach. "But I'm glad you've figured it out yourselves."

"Saves us the trouble," Levi grumbles.

"And makes me proud for raising you that way," Hange adds, smiling softly.

"So..." Historia begins cautiously, but practically brimming with excitement. "When is the wedding?"

"The wedding?" Hange and Levi share a look. Both seem utterly confused at the question. "We don't need it."

"But it's the wedding!" Sasha urges on, even though the rest hang their hands in disappoinment. "Surely you need it - to celebrate you, get rings and..."

"Oi," Levi raises a hand, halting her. "We said we don't need it."

"What's the point in a second wedding anyway?" Hange laughs, and everyone's jaws touch the ground.

"What!" Sasha all but shrieks. "What do you mean a second wedding? Was there a first one?"

"Naturally," Hange nods. "A long time ago, of course..." she tugs on Levi's hand. "When we had done it?"

"Just after Maria fell."

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," she shakes her head, minutively tilting it to give Levi a wistful smile. "Too much tragedies for our lives, I'm afraid."

While two adults bask in their affection, Armin drags his gaze away from the scene and stares at his friends in confusion. Captain Levi and Hange-san are married, have been way before they even joined Survey Corps? How is that possible? How did they not notice, not a single sign of it?

"And you've said they're sharp," Levi tuts, noticing their long faces. "We'd be shitty soldiers," he explains to them, "if we shouted about our feelings."

"And it became even more complicated when I was outranking Levi... Reputation and all that, kids," Hange chuckles. "Really important, even in the army."

"So you two..." Armin stummers, in disbelief. "All this time?"

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it all out." Hange says. "We weren't exactly subtle."

But all of them were too blind to see. Now that he knows the whole truth, though, certain moments take different shapes.

"Well, it's been fun," Levi announces, as he pulls on Hange's hand. "But as all of you now know, someone needs to rest a lot."

"Yeah, we'll be going," Hange agrees, standing up to wrap her hands around the handles of Levi's wheelchair. Jean jumps up to offer his help, but instantly, Hange waves him off. "Go and have fun, my dear, I'll take him home just fine. I mean-" she laughs, and the sound is so merry that everyone joins in. "What kind of a person can't take her husband home? Have a good evening. And," she fixes Armin with a look, "Hangover or not, I expect you in my office next morning."

"Yes!" Armin cries out, forgetting himself for a moment and almost giving Hange a salute. But then he remembers something else, a moment from a long time ago, and gathers the courage to ask aboit it, before Hange exits the room. "Oh, and by the way, Hange-san? Remember that time when a table broke in your office. Was that-"

"Oh yeah!" she throws her head back, laughter carrying all over the restaurant. "Levi fucked me real good then."

They leave without saying another word, but Armin and his friends stay, digesting the information. They first stare dumbly at the table, then look up to look each other in the eyes.

It is Jean who breaks the tense silence.

"Another bottle?"

"Oh god, yes," comes an instant reply.

#levihan

96 notes · View notes

lovejustforaday · 1 year

Text

2022 Year End List - #15

Teen S****de - Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast

Main Genres: Lo-Fi Indie Rock, Indie Folk

A decent sampling of: Post-Rock, Emo, Slowcore, Dream Pop, Neo-Psych, Noise Pop, Folktronica

WARNING: Too many potential triggers on this one to make a proper list. It's even in the band name (which I am uncomfortably ambivalent about). If you are going through a very rough time mentally, this could either comfort you or make things worse. Proceed at your own discretion.

So I decided to start off my 2022 year end list with a little bit of back story as to how I discovered the album which ended up placing at number 15. There’s a fair bit of context that I want to explain first, so buckle in.

I have been a big fan of the often underappreciated electro pop / synth pop / trance / chillwave rapper/singer Kitty for a few years now. The unlikely Tumblr girl who rose to semi-prominence as an ‘internet’ rapper — before such a phenomenon became widespread thanks to soundcloud rap and the rise of music streaming services — has often been ahead of the curve when it comes to fusing pop and hip hop with very online aesthetics and sounds.

Kitty is also married to Sam Ray, a prolific artist who has been making music since at least 2009 as part of nearly a dozen solo projects and bands such as Ricky Eat Acid, American Pleasure Club, The Pom Poms, and of course Teen S****de (not the literal band name, but please bare with me as I try to get this review past the Tumblr and Instagram filters). As part of these projects, Ray has made music that ranges anywhere from indie folk to stuff like ambient, industrial, and even miami bass.

As I follow Kitty's instagram, I was made aware of Sam Ray's hospitalizations last year due to chronic respiratory problems. At one point, his condition was considered potentially life-threatening.

Fortunately, Sam is still alive and kicking. As you could imagine, the events of last year significantly impacted the music on this new record.

I myself had not listened to a full-length release from any of Sam Ray's musical projects up to this point. But I was inclined to check this one out, especially since the man had clearly gone through so much hardship to reach its completion. As an added bonus plus, Kitty also sings backing vocals on some of the tracks, so that’s pretty cool.

Upon listening, I have this to say: Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast is not an easy record. It is a folksy, watery, haphazard mishmash of three or more indie subgenres per song, with transient reflections from a man who has come very close to death on (as it turns out) more than one occasion. It is a collection of songs that are tenderly pessimistic, at times embracing something more like a nihilistic bliss (From "complaining in dreams" : "Everything is everything is everything is nothing / And when they finally kill me, I hope at least they make it funny").

Dropping another disclaimer right here: this album is not at all congruent with where I personally am in my life right now. All things considered, I have had a pretty good 2022 (and 2021 for that matter). I am mostly past the messy depressive/anxious episodes that rocked my life in waves between the years of 2017 and 2019, and I have a modestly comforting sense of security in where I am right now with my life.

And yet, this still resonates with me emotionally. I may be far in my current state from sharing the grim outlook that this record maintains almost religiously, but like most good music, it manages to transcend whatever my current mood is and make me feel its affecting pulse in a way that resonates. Several of the songs in particular managed to not only resonate, but access deeper pockets of the emotional faculties in my mind.

“get high, breathe underwater (#3)” is a mesmerizing lament of neo-psychedelic piano folktronica. The piano riff floats somewhere above and around the listener while remaining mostly static, sustained in an awkward stasis that mirrors lyrics describing the feeling of being completely stuck in one’s life position.

“new strategies for telemarketing through precognitive dreams”, apart from maybe being the best song title of the year, is also another major highlight, with compressed lo-fi indie guitars churning and decaying into wounded howls.

The album peaks with "coyote (2015-2021)", a long instrumental trek of slowcore-post-rock through a forest of once-forgotten memories. I imagine myself growing very old over the course of the song, years of life becoming mere footnotes and chapters that are part of a longer story, where I’m the protagonist nearing the end of a tragic young adult romance novel.

“complaining in dreams” is a dreamy lo-fi lullaby, musically not unlike something by The Radio Dept. This one has a particularly defeatist attitude towards the future of humanity, but the words are expressed in a manner so leisurely and whisper-soft that it’s as if these musings are the typical end-of-day thoughts passing through your head right as you fall asleep, only hoping to wake up in some universe completely different from our own current version of reality.

I have to say that not all of this stimulates me musically as consistently and successfully as it manages to resonate with me emotionally. Sometimes I feel like Teen S****de are bringing new ideas and breathing new life into the well-established tradition of ‘slow sad indie with folk guitars and noisy lo-fi’, while other times it feels like this record is paying a lot of homage to those artists in a similar vein that came long before this record, such as The Microphones.

Still, I simply had to include this record on my 2022 list, even if it was a pretty darn close choice for number 15 between this and at least three or four other albums that I ended up omitting. At the end of the day, this one formed a stronger connection with me than those other records. Honeybee Table At The Butterfly Feast is an album meant to be appreciated by the deepest recesses of the right side of your brain, marked with murky paintings of the adult imagination and overflowing with profoundly uneasy sentiments needing to be felt as much as they are heard.

8/10

Highlights: “coyote (2015-2021)”, “get high, breathe underwater (#3)”, “new strategies for telemarketing through precognitive dreams”, “death wish”, “complaining in dreams”, “you were my star”

#ricky eat acid #sam ray #kitty #american pleasure club #year end list #2022 #album review #music review #aoty #best music #list #lo fi indie #indie rock #indie folk #honeybee table at the butterfly feast

5 notes · View notes

itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Say Yes || Bucky Barnes

pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: after receiving your brother’s blessing, bucky barnes finally finds the courage to ask you a very important question

a/n: another addition to the bucky barnes x rogers!reader collection- reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

1941

Feeling the cool breeze of the spring day surrounding you, you began to grow annoyed as Bucky stopped short, slipping his hand out of yours to wipe them on his pants for the fifth time that afternoon.

Wrapping your cardigan, tighter around you, you sighed.

“Is everything alright, Buck?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, squinting up at you, brushing his hands on his bottoms. “Yeah, yeah, doll. Everything’s fine. It’s just hot today.”

Watching as another cool gust of wind swept through his hair, you eyed him warily.

Bucky has been acting strange in the past two weeks since the night your brother, Steve, had discovered your relationship leading to a punch being thrown and shouting that you were sure woke the neighbors. However, your brother had assured you after coming back inside from speaking to his best friend alone that everything was fine and that they had worked out their differences.

He promised you that you had nothing to worry about.

If that was the case, you couldn't understand why Bucky was acting so... odd. You had known Bucky since before you could even remember and although he was your brother’s best friend, you had always been able to read him like a book. You couldn’t place a single reason why he had been behaving so anxiously the past few weeks or why he had suddenly become so nervous spending time alone with you.

“Did... did Steve say something to you?” You found the courage to ask your partner.

“Huh?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I told you, doll. Steve and I talked it all out.”

When you said nothing else, keeping your arms crossed and only turning your head to the side to instead watch the couple having a picnic on the grass nearby, Bucky began to grow nervous that he messed up.

“Why?”

Facing your partner once again, you threw your hands in the air with a groan.

“I don’t know, Buck!” You exclaimed. “You’ve just been acting so weird. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong!”

Bucky swore he could feel the color drain from his face.

He didn’t think you had noticed his newfound behavior- or at least hoped you hadn’t.

Ever since he had asked Steve for your hand in marriage two weeks ago and he said yes, Bucky had been nervously searching for the perfect moment. He had known he wanted to marry you since one month into your relationship (and knew you were it for him even earlier than that), so he had expected to be overjoyed and relieved upon finally receiving your brother’s permission, but instead it had only made the reality that you could say no to him even more real.

He hadn’t even thought of that possibility until the opportunity to ask you was finally in his hands.

He wanted more than anything to finally be married to you- he knew he couldn’t wait much longer- but he wanted the proposal to be perfect for you nonetheless.

“Nothing’s wrong, Y/n.” He said. “You’re just seein’ things.”

As soon as the last comment had slipped from his mouth, he knew he messed up. When you raised your eyebrows at him, your tongue in your cheek, he took his hands out of his pockets and reached them out for you.

“Okay, I didn’t mean that.” Bucky said, trying to ease you.

“Yeah?” You asked. “Then what’s in your pocket, Buck?”

“Nothing’s in my pocket, doll.” He chuckled nervously. “Why don’t we keep walk-”

Before he could even finish what he was saying, you strode over to him, moving to shove your hand into his left pocket. Catching your wrist, he attempted to lightly shove you away.

“If there’s nothing in there,” You said. “then you wouldn’t mind me checking.”

Still holding your wrist with a tight grip in his hand, he scoffed.

“And what? Give everyone the wrong idea?” He said, tilting his head towards the couple on the picnic blanket on the grass. “Those people are right there.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me that excuse, Barnes.” You lowered your voice. “Don’t act like you didn't just make out with me behind that tree ten minutes ago. Who do you think you're foolin’?”

Just when he was about to open his mouth again, you took advantage of him being distracted and shoved your hand into his pocket. As quick as he scrambled to swat you away, your hand had already wrapped around the cool metal and pulled it out of his pocket.

Opening your hand, your eyes met the familiar ring sitting in your palms. The smirk that had been on your face dropped.

Looking up at your boyfriend, your eyes went wide.

“Is this...” You began at a loss of words. “Is this your mom’s ring?”

You had noticed months ago that his mother's ring finger was bare when the two of you had went and visited her for lunch one day. While setting the table for her- Bucky in the other room fixing the lock on her door- you caught sight of the lack of her engagement ring when she set the forks beside you.

“You missing your ring, Mrs. Barnes?” You asked, nodding your head towards her hand.

As soon as you had asked, her hand shot away from the table as she laughed nervously.

“Oh that old thing?” She asked, moving around the table. “It um... my fingers were all swollen the other day so I slipped it off. I must’ve forgotten to put it back on.”

About to open your mouth to say more, finding her behavior strange, you stopped short when you felt Bucky’s hand rest on your back.

“You know, Ma,” He said, gently rubbing circles on your back. “Next time your lock breaks- tell me first thing. Last thing you need is some burglar coming in here. What were you two chit-chatting about in here anyway?”

Glancing up at Bucky, you watched as he stole a piece of bread from the table, taking a bite out of it.

“I was just saying that I didn’t see your mom’s ring on her finger.”

Choking on the food in his mouth, Bucky began coughing.

Unbeknownst to you, your partner had asked his mother for her engagement ring only a month after officially going steady with you. He honestly didn’t even have to ask. As soon as he had showed up at her apartment and confessed to his mother that he was finally dating the Rogers girl, she had practically shoved the ring in his hand herself.

She had always thought fondly of you (along with every other member of the Barnes family) and had been waiting eagerly for this day to come, knowing some day her son would come to his senses and settle down his best friend’s sister.

When Bucky received the heirloom, he had made his mother promise that she wouldn’t say a thing, keeping it a surprise until the fateful day where he made you his.

He should have known, however, that at the end of the day a part of you was always gonna be Steve’s punk little sister who didn't know when to keep her nose out of his business.

Shaking his head wildly, Bucky glared at his mother.

“You should really keep that thing on your finger.” He said, finally clearing his throat and turning towards his mother. “Don’t wanna lose that, Ma.”

Swatting her son and taking the slice of bread from his hands, she smiled knowingly.

“Don’t worry, James. It’s right where it belongs.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, I uh...” He said. “I asked her for it a few months ago.”

At his confession, you began to feel your heart beat faster in your chest.

He had asked his mother for her engagement ring.

He had asker her months ago and it was sitting in his pocket now.

Before you could say anything else, Bucky gently took the ring from your hand and held it between his index and thumb, moving down onto his knee in front of you. Stepping back to take in the sight of him, you opened your mouth in awe, trying to find something to say, but he shook his head.

“I know you love to talk, but just let me say what I gotta say, okay?”

“Hey!” You exclaimed at his playful insult.

“I’m just messin’ with you, doll.” He chuckled before clearing his throat. “So, uh... God this is hard. I practiced this hundreds of times too, I swear, but I’ve known you for so long I don’t know what to say, ya know? You’re just a part of me. I’ve known you for almost my entire life and I remember you just being Steve’s little sister and getting so annoyed because you would just come in there and want to do whatever we were doing, but if that little punk of a ten year-old Bucky saw me now he’d kick my ass because I hate it when you’re not there. I can’t remember a day when I didn’t know who you were and I don’t want to ever go a day without you by my side ever again.”

Not being able to help the beaming smile on your face, you were so overwhelmed with pure joy listening to Bucky rambling on. Squeezing his hand tightly, you laughed along with what he was saying, completely and utterly in bliss knowing what was coming next.

“I would say more, but you know I’m gonna smother you every day you’re with me anyway.” Bucky laughed thinking of the future, looking up at you. “So, will you-”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, can you let a guy finish?” He groaned teasingly, throwing you a bright smile. “What I was asking was... will you marry me?”

Staring down at the man that was about to become your fiancé, you memorized the way the sun shone down on him, highlighting his features and how his blue eyes seemed brighter than ever. Gazing at the smile on his face you knew it was rooted in the pure love and happiness you both shared.

You couldn’t help but think of the Bucky you knew ten, five and even one year ago and how every moment between the two of you was leading up to the rest of your lives. You didn’t know if you had ever believed in soulmates before your relationship grew into something more, but it felt silly to think now that you two were anything but destined to be together.

You had a feeling you’d find him even if there was a world between you.

How lucky were you to have him right next to you this whole time?

Bending down to your own knees, tucking your skirt underneath them, you cupped your lover’s face in your hands and met his lips with yours. You laughed into the kiss as you felt his arms wrap tightly around you, nearly making you fall over as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

When you finally separated from his lips, the smile rose on his face once again as he brought the ring between the two of you.

“I don’t know if I can take this, Buck.” You whispered, glancing from the ring to his face. “It’s your mom’s.”

“Listen doll,” He said, taking your left hand in his, slowly slipping the ring onto your finger. “I’m the oldest. This ring was bound to be mine when I was born and when I met you... it was bound to be yours too.”

Smiling up at your fiancé, you showed off your hand, newly adorned with his family’s engagement ring. Sometimes Bucky questioned if he was a sentimental man, but seeing you there with that ring around your finger he knew without a doubt that he was.

“You like it?” He asked.

“It fits like a charm.” You smiled.

“Well,” Bucky said taking your hand in his and kissing it softly. “My mom always said it was meant for you. I guess she was right.”

Smiling at the mention of his mother who you had no doubt would be overjoyed at the mention of your engagement, you pressed one last kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to your feet, pulling him up with you.

“Ya know,” You said lacing fingers with your fiancé’s. “I’m glad you asked. I was starting to get scared you were getting sick of me.”

“The only sick I am for you, doll, is lovesick.”

You didn’t know what the future had in store for you, but in that moment you allowed yourself to bask in the pure bliss of being joined with the man at your side. No matter what the future held, you felt confident that you would be able to face it with your partner- the man you were sure you were destined to go through it all with.

“Y/n Barnes does have a nice ring to it.” You told him giddily, strolling on the path by his side. “Don’t you think?”

He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t had to rewrite letters because he accidentally wrote his last name after your first or that he didn’t turn red when his mother called you her daughter-in-law when you weren't there. Hearing the name fall from your lips for the first time undeniably made his heart skip a beat in his chest as he squeezed your hand tighter, playing with the ring on your finger.

“You know it, doll.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fluff #40s!bucky

1K notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

youtube

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

#smutchallenge #cecewritessometimes #oneshot #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #smut #Youtube

321 notes · View notes

beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Happy Engagement

Relationship: Loki x Reader Warnings: contains some dark elements: manipulation Summary: Loki has always thought of you as his and there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep it that way. A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one shot for a while! I had the idea for it months ago and finally wrote it and then it just sat on my computer while I wrote other stuff but I figured since I don’t have anything really new this week it’d be perfect to put out! I hope you enjoy it because I greatly do :)

Masterlist

Loki had always been an interesting force in your life.

You two met when you were just children in school. You two were the official unofficial outsides of your school year — he was a prince, you were a peasant. Despite his royal standing, he’d play with you at recess. For these outlier ways, you two never interacted much with the other kids, life practically forcing you two to one another.

At such a young age, you hadn’t realized how significant this bond would become. As a child, you were just glad someone was talking to you. He shouldn’t have even been looking at you, should’ve maybe been disgusted with your presence alone. You should’ve been some onlooker, amazed by him and his magic but you weren’t — well, except for the magic part. His magic was little when you were kids but it drew quite the amazement from you.

Over time, you two naturally grew with one another. From childhood into your teens and still, now, you two made an unlikely pair of best friends as young adults. All of this though did not come without some bumps along the way.

In your teens, Loki had almost completely shut you out. For some reason, he seemed to be acting embarrassed by you. Your mother had warned you this may happen but you thought he was different, swore he was, unless his sincerity was like the many other tricks he played. Eventually, supposedly after some talking down from his brother, Loki appeared back at your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk.

This disappearing and coming back had become a habit for him over his teenage years and into adulthood. Loki never explicitly told you why but you could tell there was something eating away at him. It had been there a long time and it felt like disassociating himself with you was his solution.

You thought everything was coming to an abrupt end when you fell pregnant. You had been seeing a nobleman who was a regular customer in your parents’ shop. He was absolutely charming and delightful, practically swept you right off your feet within minutes of meeting. Your parents were ecstatic when he asked to court you.

You yourself were stunned but you ran to tell Loki about it. He was speechless. You tried telling him about the man but something in Loki snapped. He got unreasonably upset, spewing hateful comments about the man, practically forcing you out of his chambers in the process. He went radio silent again.

You tried to ignore losing your best friend — again — and focused on your new relationship. He wooed you endlessly with dates to lavish dinners and dawning you in lovely gowns. It was all so much more than you had ever expected in life. He’d tell you you deserved it and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you two would get so lost in one another.

A bit shamefully, hypnotized by the romantics of it all, you gave yourself to him. Tangled in the sheets with him as your guide, you let the man you felt you would marry have every last bit of you.

And for a while after, it was blissful. Nothing had seemed to change between you two until he announced he had to go away for a bit. Confused, you asked why suddenly now facing the fact you were losing another person in your life. He explained he was needed by his father on a different realm, part of the family "business," as he described it.

Days after his departure, you learned you were pregnant. Around this time, Loki popped back up in your life. You felt relieved having someone to confide in but when you told him of your pregnancy, he was far from the supportive force you thought you’d get. He didn’t yell or get upset per se but he was beyond stunned.

He left for a bit then but can back in less time than last. This time he brought along baby supplies and congratulated you. It was a complete one-eighty from his prior behavior but you accepted it, gratefully. Loki ended up being your main person throughout the pregnancy as clues of when your boyfriend would return were nonexistent.

"Did he know you were carrying his child when he left?" Loki had asked you one night. You two were sitting in the living room of the makeshift house you had acquired. You didn’t feel very good that this was the home you were bringing a child into when you knew her father could’ve provided her with a better one. But, at the end of the day, it was a roof over both your heads.

You crocheted another knot in the baby blanket. "No, he didn’t. I didn’t even know."

Loki gave a passing hum at that answer. He didn’t ask about your boyfriend very much after that.

Once your baby girl arrived, she became your entire world, your entire focus. Between caring for her and working to provide, you had little time to worry about your boyfriend still being gone. But it wasn’t as lonely as it may have looked because Loki was always by your side. Working around his royal duties, he’d take time to come visit you and your daughter even sometimes staying for dinner or to play with her. You didn’t miss how he was unintentionally becoming the father she was missing. You never said anything, though, always biting your tongue as you waited for her father to return.

Hope began to face on that front after your daughter turned three. Maybe he was just a footnote in your life, a foolish hopeful dream, but at least he had given you the lovely gift of your child. You weren’t giving up, still placing him in the boyfriend spot of your mind, but you couldn’t deny doubt crept in. Maybe a relationship of any capacity just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Or so you thought.

As Loki continued with his royal responsibilities, he was growing older and more powerful. That’s when the rumors of marriage began floating about. Your mother had brought it up to you once asking if you met any of his potential suitors. Your stomach did a somersault. You didn’t even know there were suitors, let alone met any of them. You tried to keep your cool and just told her no.

Who these suitors were and if they really existed, you never found out. You never even had the guts to ask about them especially after Loki pulled you aside one night after a dinner at the palace.

He rarely ever invited you to dinners with his family so to get this spontaneous invitation, you didn’t hesitate to attend. He even allowed you to bring along your daughter. She was playing with some servants’ children when Loki asked you to the garden.

"Feeling like a nighttime stroll?" You asked with a little laugh. Loki just smiled.

"There’s actually something I want to speak to you about."

"Oh," you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, yes, everything is fine." He looked up at the sky, almost lost in thought as you walked. You thought for a split second how lovely he looked. "I’m sure you have heard by now the…talk about my anticipated engagement."

Your heart practically stopped beating at that moment. Your hands instinctively gripped at the skirt of your dress as if you were ready to run away at the drop of a hat. Trying to keep your voice stead, you said, "Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that to me the other day."

He shot you an unreadable side glance. Your hands gripped the fabric tighter. Why were you feeling like this? Was that…jealousy you felt? You didn’t understand where that had come from. This was your best friend. Your prince best friend. He was bound to get married and have a lavish life with his bride. You couldn’t stop that, you couldn’t change it.

"Do you know anything of the women I have been offered?"

Was this another one of his cruel jokes? You wanted to vomit all over the bushes of flowers passing you as you walked. You managed to shake your head in response. "I’m sure they’re all wonderful."

He scoffed. "More like they’re all incredibly boring."

You gasped, "Loki, I’m not sure you should be speaking that way of them."

"It’s doesn’t matter," he shrugged, "because none of them are what I want."

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to know what he was seeking. You looked at him wearily.

You two walked in silence for a moment. Loki was now watching the ground intensely. You couldn’t believe how much his gaze was wandering. It must’ve been for courage because the next words out of his mouth were ones you had never thought you’d ever hear. From anyone.

"I believe you could be what I want," he said. He spoke your name so softly. "I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage."

You stopped walking, your legs suddenly unable to move. Your eyes grew wide as complete shock raced over you. You didn’t know what to do, too scared to speak because you didn’t know what was going to come out. Your first thought was that this was one of his magic tricks. Maybe he wasn’t even here, just a clone of him as he wished to make a fool of you. It wouldn’t be the first time but he had never been so cruel.

"You’re not saying anything," Loki noted. He had stopped a few feet ahead of you, completely taken off guard by your halt.

"I-I don’t understand." The words felt so heavy forcing their way out of your mouth.

"I don’t believe I stuttered, dear."

Your jaw dropped, surprised it hadn’t hit the floor already. He was seriously asking this. Loki, a literal prince, and your best friend, was asking for your hand in marriage. But — But you just didn’t know why. Why would he ask such a thing? Not only were you an unwed mother, he knew very well about your boyfriend. It was almost insulting he’d think you’d give up just because business or whatever it was was taking a while. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what this could all mean for your daughter.

"Loki… I… I don’t know. This seems crazy—,"

"Crazy?" His expression turned dark. You suddenly regretted the word despite it holding true. "What is so crazy about me wanting to take your hand? I thought this could be good. You and your daughter would have everything you’d ever want. You’d be a princess for crying out loud!"

You flinched at his anger. You had never seen him so enraged before. It made your whole body stiffen.

"I see. This… This is very generous of you but my boyfriend…"

Loki chuckled but there wasn’t any humor found within it. "Of course. The nobleman." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me again, dear, how long has it been? Do you really think he’s going to just show back up one day?"

"Of course," you nodded. "He told me—,"

"He’s not coming back."

You began shaking your head, growing more and more upset as the seconds passed. "You don’t know that."

Loki sighed, defeatedly. "I do know that, dear." A heavy pause. "I know that because I’m the one that sent him away."

You were certain in that moment your heart had stopped. Everything had stopped. You could barely tell anymore how you got from point A to point B.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I’ve had my eye on you for a long time," he explained. He was standing so tall making you feel minuscule. "I always thought you could be just right for me but then that nobleman waltzed into your life. Granted, he wasn’t me. He couldn’t give you what I could but he tried his best." Loki shrugged. "I had no choice, really. He threatened everything. He derailed my plan but it’s alright. I think after tonight it’ll be back on track, correct?"

You held your hands up in defense, practically begging Loki to slow down. Your head was spinning. "You sent away the father of my child?"

Loki sighed, sounding actually regretful. "Truly, that wasn’t ever my intention. I didn’t know he was going to do that."

"And you think since you forced him out of the picture, you can swoop in and ask for my hand in marriage? We never had a courtship! Are you even hearing yourself?"

"I’m a prince, darling." He sounded so casual. "We do not court like the rest of you."

Gosh, you felt like you were going to vomit. Your hands fell to your stomach as you tried to calm yourself. You had never heard Loki separate you two so clearly before. Like he had drawn a line, definitively.

Your words tasted like venom as you forced yourself to speak. "Can I at least think about it?"

"I’m afraid not. They’d like an answer tonight."

Tonight. That was what this dinner had been for. You weren’t invited just out of the kindness of his heart. You had been attending your own engagement party.

"Loki, this… I— This is insane. You’re— You’re insane—,"

"Am I, really?" He pressed, taking a few steps closer. You trembled under a darkened gaze you had never seen before on him. "I’m not sure that’s how you should be speaking to the man trying to offer you a bit of… stability."

"Stability?" You repeated. "You think that’s all that I want?"

"Would this not grant your daughter a better life? The little shop of yours is only getting you two so far, dear."

The shock had worn off as you were now being filled with rage. "Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this anymore," you gritted. "Of course, I want nothing but the best for her but I also deserve someone who will truly love me. You’re — You’re just asking to fulfill some royal commitment and trying to pass it off like this is some big, grand gesture to help me."

Loki looked a bit taken back by your words. Even you were a bit surprised by yourself. You didn’t know where this fight was coming from within you. Probably from the depths of motherhood, if you had to guess. But it felt good in a way.

After a heavy moment, Loki asked, "Was I so wrong to assume this proposal could actually help us both?"

That was the real kicker of it all, you thought. This actually could help you both.

"I want to marry someone who loves me."

Loki seemed to debate around the idea mentally. "I’m certain that within time something could bloom. I’m not a psychopath, darling." He smirked. "But I truly can’t believe you’d give this up all for the minuscule chance at love, the hopeless thing that got you where you are today."

You gasped. "I would’ve had true love if you hadn’t banished him away!"

Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You are so adorable, you know that?" You flinched as he got close enough now to place a hand on your damp cheek. You were practically forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. "That man was nothing but a spoiled brat and I refuse to believe you actually fell for his game."

You felt yourself crumbling down again. Way beneath him. "He… He was really…"

"Don’t you dare try to defend him, do you hear me?" Loki spat. That darkness was washing over but this time it felt like a storm you couldn’t escape. "I will not have my bride speak such niceties about another man."

"Your bride—,"

"While I’ve enjoyed this little midnight confessional, we have some good news to share with everyone, don’t we?"

You didn’t know what to do. What to think anymore. He wasn’t letting up. You were trapped. It was like the prison gate had shut behind you. You were stone-cold now, completely under his control. You were giving up in complete defeat. You could scream until you were blue in the face but you were running in circles. At least your daughter would know a home.

"Yes."

Loki’s face lit up. He removed his hands from you. "Fantastic," he said, heading back towards the palace. You helplessly followed beside him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "Happy engagement, dear."

256 notes · View notes

love-toxin · 3 years

Text

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

#tohma #tohma x reader #tohma genshin impact #thoma x reader #thoma genshin #genshin impact #yandere tohma #yandere thoma #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader

299 notes · View notes

heliotropehotch · 3 years

Text

Silver - a.h. x fem!reader

Request by @moonstuffsteve :If you’re taking requests, I’d love Hotch smut with a wedding ring kink where the cold metal gets you more worked up (maybe ft choking bc of the ring??) pls and thanks so much!!!!!!!!

a/n: AHHHH its my first smut for Aaron! (and first smut i've actually finished in years!) Al, i love you. Thank you for this. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve my writing please let me know! I haven't written smut in a long time so I know this might be rocky. <3

CW: smut, under 18 DNI, 18+, jealously, unwanted ass grabbing, wanted ass grabbing, choking, wedding ring kink?????, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, marriage kink??, dom/sub themes, possessiveness, fingering

Masterlist

author: abby<3

word count: 1919

have fun!

She hated cops. Entitled, jealous, and, for the most part, disgusting men, who thought well enough should be left alone. Meaning that, while help had been offered and given, it wasn’t wanted. What was wanted, however, seemed to deviate way too far off the course of the case, of the literal murders that were happening.

“Officer Walker,” Y/N’s teeth gritted out as sweetly as she could, as the man placed an unwelcome palm on the small of her back. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, sugar,” he chuckled deeply. “I was hoping you wanted to get out of here.”

“Out of here?” She pretended not to notice Agent Hotchner watching the interaction, slowing walking up behind him. “What do you mean, Officer?”

“I mean,” his hand swooped down, resting gently on her ass. Y/N’s eyes shot wide, mouth opening slightly with appall. “We should get out of here so we can have a little fun.”

“Excuse me-”

“Officer Walker,” Aaron Hotchner’s voice cut through the air of the precinct. “I suggest you take your hand off of my agent, and my wife.”

Walker’s hand shot off her body, smacking into his own side. “Your wife? Sir, I didn’t kn-”

“We have a case, Officer. There are people out there getting murdered. Get back to work. Agent, you’re needed in the conference room, please.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a straight face, but she knew her husband could read the smugness on her face.

“In the future, Officer Walker,” she called out before following Aaron. “At least check a woman’s hand before you make unwanted passes at them.”

Y/N sauntered almost cheerfully behind her husband stalking into the closed conference room. She could hear the gears turning forcefully in his head, and could clearly see his hand clenching and relaxing at his side. Entering the conference room, tension seeping into the air, confining itself in the room as Aaron forcefully shut the door behind them.

“Aaron-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, fingers smoothing out his eyebrows. “I was fine until his moved his fucking hand-”

She reached out to grab his arms, trailing down to intertwine their fingers together. “Honey,” she smiled sweetly. “I know, okay. I appreciate it, okay. But I had it handled too.”

“I should have him fired-”

“But you won’t,” she laughed softly. “If you fired every man who made a pass at me, we wouldn’t ever work with cops again.”

He grumbled indignantly, scrunching his eyes together in irritation. Y/N slipped her hands up his chest, sliding into their natural place at his jaw. Her lips pressed to his, seeping tension seeping out of him with every passing second. “Aaron,” she hummed against his lips, before pulling away. She smiled as his chased after. “I married you, remember? You don’t ever have to worry about anyone else. Like ever?”

He chuckled, slipping his hands into the pockets of her pants. “I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

“I’m only yours.” She smiled at him, taking a step back. “Now can we get back to work? I wanna go home with you as soon as possible.”

The case was nowhere near close to being solved, but tensions between all members of the BAU were running high. Derek, the ever hot head he was, had almost gotten into a physical fight with the Captain of the precinct, while Spencer had remained silent after a particularly loud conversation with one of the fellow officers.

“These cops just won’t let us do our jobs, Hotch,” Emily had groaned in the hotel elevator with Y/N and Aaron. “I’m two derogatory comments away from breaking Walker’s nose.”

Y/N snorted, eying her husband’s now tense back in front of her. “He’s a real piece of work huh?”

“I’ll be too glad when we get out of here. Why can’t we work with female cops for a change?”

It was Hotch’s turn to snort. “You would end up being the one that they complained about. You’re just as bad as Morgan.”

Emily gave an artificial gasp. “Am not.”

The elevator doors opened, and Y/N followed her husband out and down the hall to the left. “Night Em!”

Out of sight of the rest of their team, she jogged forward to grab his hand, giving a small kiss to his knuckles. A comfortable silence had settled between the heavy setted footsteps of the married couple. Y/N rocked on her heels as her husband fumbled with the key card to their shared room. She rolled her neck, letting the tension fizzle out in separated pops of her bones. She barely registered the click of the door, or the wrap of fingers around her wrist. She did however, notice the cool, fake wood of the hotel door being pressed against her back. “Aaron?”

“You’re mine,” he murmured, pressing his lips in the angle of her neck. She chuckled, winding her fingers in his hair.

“I thought we already clarified that, baby.”

He hummed a chuckle, his tongue lapping up whatever remnants of perfume traced his neck. “And I intend to make that painfully obvious to everyone in that precinct.”

His lips wrapped around the muscles at the junction of her neck, drawing out a moan out of her with passing second that the air left his mouth. Y/N hummed a laugh, lifting her hips to grind against his. “Seriously, a hickey?”

His hand snaked up her waist to rest under her chin, squeezing slightly. She could feel the metal of his wedding band warm to the temperature of her skin. “I’ve got a point to prove, sweetheart.”

His fingers left her throat and reached down to pull the backs of her thighs to wrap around his waist, grunting slightly at the movement. She worked on unbuttoning her shirt, the best she could. “Aar-” their bodies fell to the bed, his legs slotted between hers. Y/N squeezed his left hand that had found its way into hers. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, remember?”

“Oh I remember, darling,” his mouth moved to her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting it free. “I think you’re the one who needs a reminder.”

Aaron’s hands pushed up her skirt, adjusting it to pool at her hips. His calloused hands traced the edge of her underwear, sliding softly under the band. His mouth, trailing back up to her neck smirked as Y/N’s hips squirmed under his delicate touch. “Be patient, love.”

His attached his mouth to hers as his fingers slowly, finally began circling her clit. The metal of his ring brushing deliciously against the skin above. His teeth tugged her bottom lips, a small whine escaping her. He watched her blissed out expression morph into one of need, eyes scrunched with tension. His fingers dipped lower, circling her entrance before dipping two fingers in slowly.

“Aaron,” she gasped out, clenching around the fingers inside of her. “Aaron, please.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he smiled into her neck, pressing his lips to her skin. “I’m gonna take good care of my wife, don’t you worry.”

His thumb, that had been rolling lazy circles against her clit, becomes more firm, with more intention. Y/N could feel the cold of her husband’s silver band pressing into her pussy as he pressed a third finger into her. The stretch of his hand, the way he stroked her walls with his fingers, and the words dripping from his lips were enough to put her body on edge.

“Oh you’re so tight, baby,” he chuckled darkly, breath blowing sweetly against her inner thighs. “Fuck, you’re wet. Is this all for me?”

Her fingers wrapped lazily between his black locks, tugging the strands. “Only you.”

“Of course, honey,” he cooed. “Look at you dripping all over my ring, I bet you’re gonna come soon, yeah?”

“Please,” Y/N whined loudly. “Please, Aaron, I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Come for me, baby, get nice and ready for my cock.” She let out a yelp, her back arching from the mattress as her husband continued to lazily stroke her cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth for a taste, before pausing and redirecting his fingers to her mouth. Her eyes stayed on him and she hummed around his fingers, tongue lapping at her own juices around his wedding ring.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, tugging off his own shirt, and ridding his pants and underwear. Y/N’s panties now rested at her knees, twisting over on itself, until she lazily ridded the rest of her garments.

Aaron now positioned her on her knees, head resting on her forearms as her ass ground into his pelvis. “Please, baby, wanna feel you,” her muffled voice called out.

He sucked his teeth with mock annoyance, lightly smacking one of her cheeks with his left hand. “And what did I say about being patient?” he chided, before lining his dick up and thrusting in.

Her toes curled at the sudden, but welcome intrusion. A groan left her throat as he began pounding into her pussy at a rough pace. Thrust for thrust, the room echoes with grunts and moans from both Y/N and her husband. She could almost feel his smug grin with every whine that fell through her lips.

“Fuck, Y/N look at you taking my cock so well. I bet you just love how I fill you up.” Her only responses were loud moans that flowed through his own voice as she clenched around him.

The metal of his wedding ring now almost burned against her sweating skin as he wrapped his hand around her throat once more, pulling her body to be flush against him as he continued to thrust into her at a bruising pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” She stayed wordless, only echoing in whines and moans. He squeezed her neck a little tighter, the imprint of the ring creating a delicious friction. “Answer me.”

“You!” her voice bursted out. “You, Aaron, only you.”

“That’s right, sweetheart, your husband. I married you, I put that ring on your finger-” he groaned, attaching his lips to the juncture of her neck before speaking again. “Fuck, are you gonna come for me soon?”

“Yes!” she cried, “Please, please.”

“Go ahead, and come for me like a good girl,” he panted, using his other hand to rub against her clit, squeezing his fingers again on her throat before speaking right into her ear. “Come on your husband’s cock.”

She yelled with her release, back arching to meet Aaron’s chest. He let out a few more strong thrusts before he found his own release and coated her walls with a groan. His forehead landed on her shoulder, her fingers lazily combing through his hair.

Eventually, he pulled himself out to clean themselves up and crawl into bed. She had rested on his side, but yelped when he pulled her to lay on his chest. She smiled softly, fingers tracing imaginary shapes along his pecs, then started chuckling softly.

He cracked a smile reserved only for her. “What are you up to?”

Her giggles quieted and she stopped her movements. “Oh, I was just thinking. I should make you jealous more often.”

He groaned, tugging her close to him, covering her ringed hand with his own. “Don’t you dare.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she chuckled sweetly. “You’re mine.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #fem!reader #smut #cm smut #spencer reid fanfic #cm #smut request

869 notes · View notes

starkerforlife6969 · 3 years

Text

Starker - The Beach War

Peter loves the sunshine.

He loves the sand under his toes, the little shore-line waves bumping against his ribs, he loves the sound of gulls swooping low, but he loves the sunshine most of all.

Steve warns him not to spend too much time out in the sun. Steve buys him sunscreen and umbrellas and hats.

But if the damning red crest over the bridge of his nose is anything to go by- Peter takes little heed.

“I’m going to aerobics,” Peter chirps sweetly, pouring coffee into Steve’s mug and reaching for his headband on a Tuesday morning.

His husband, in slacks and a still-unbuttoned shirt, looks up from the morning paper with a small, curious smile. “Didn’t you go yesterday?”

Peter nods, “I like it.”

“Alright. I suppose you deserve to enjoy yourself. Now that I’m officially a ballot candidate, thanks to you.”

Peter smiles warmly, reaching over to kiss Steve’s mouth and wipe the toast crumbs from his husband’s chin. “We all collected those signatures.”

Steve laughs at his modesty. “It’s one step closer to stopping Stark from destroying this town. I won’t rest till it’s done, Pete. Bucky’s coming over today, to help with the campaign.”

“Okay. Well, there’s lasagne in the fridge left over, will you two be alright?”

“Yeah.” His blue eyes run over Peter’s face. “Have you been wearing suncream?”

“Yes,” Peter lies, but is it really a lie? He tries to. He does, at least like, 50% of the time. Maybe 40.

Steve accepts it easily, and kisses Peter again, and then Peter’s out of the door and into the sunshine and free.

***

Class is perfect. Adrenaline-pumping, vibrant, fantastic, and it fills Peter with energy and when it’s over, dripping with sweat as he heads into the cool, air-conditioned bliss of the mall and wiggles his toes in his shoes.

He’s free the whole day.

He’s going to spend it in the water. On the beach.

He buys a danish from the new mall store, and is heading for the automatic doors when it catches his eye.

A familiar face. Or rather, fifteen of that unfamiliar face, splashed across a display for the new colour tvs. Beck. Peter stops despite himself and watches through the glass as fifteen Quinten Beck’s lecture on how environmental restrictions are really just restricting progress.

Peter takes another bite of his Danish and warm icing dribbles down his fingers. He licks it off angrily. Ugh, Beck. He was a dick in college, and he’s an even bigger dick now. What did Peter ever see in him?

He scoffs, turning away, only to come face-to-face with-

Oh. Handsome. Very handsome. Peter can’t help but be a little winded at the tanned skin, groomed hair and expensive suit and then-

Oh. Shit. It’s Tony Stark. Is it? It must be. It looks like him from the papers, and the interviews and- Yes. Yes, it is. The camera’s, already flattering, still don’t do him justice. It’s Tony Stark. Standing right here, in the mall that he had all those trees chopped down to make.

“You seemed drawn to him, and then you scoffed. It doesn’t speak to you?”

Peter blinks. Stark’s voice is lovely. Smooth. Just how it sounds in the adverts. “Oh!” Peter hums, hastily swallowing his mouthful of Danish. Stark’s eyes are roving over him- not even subtly. What is he looking for? Peter shifts a little in his workout gear. These shorts are very short, he must look- there’s probably icing on his lips and- “I don’t- I wasn’t drawn to him.” Peter insists, “I just know him- uh, Beck. I know him in real life.”

“I see,” Stark grins, eyes all amused, “do you have one?”

Peter blinks. He watches Tony’s eyes dip over his form once again. Rest on his lips. Peter licks them reflexively. He knows Tony isn’t married, but- “I do. I’m uh- I’m married. Sorry.”

Tony laughs, and Peter feels his cheeks flush. “I meant: do you have a colour tv? I know you’re married.”

Peter frowns. How is that possible- oh. He glances at his ring and manages a little laugh. “Perceptive.” He hums.

Tony lifts an eyebrow, a little quizzically. “No.” He says slowly, “I know who you are, Peter Rogers. I saw the “Save our Wave” campaign. You and your husband. Smart way to launch. Ocean in the background. You looked….radiant.”

Oh god. Tony Stark knows who he is.

Peter brushes his hair behind his ears and doesn’t know what to say. “Uh...thank you.”

Tony grins. “Good ad. But it won’t be enough. It can’t stop progress.” Tony steps forward, so they’re a little closer than what’s proper, and his voice drops into something lower. His fingers graze Peter’s bare shoulder. “But I’m not sure you want to stop progress, do you, pumpkin?”

Is he talking about his aerobics outfit? Or the fact he was watching colour tv? Or the fact that he’s in the mall, having just finished a mall class, eating a mall-pastry, and watching mall-tv? Despite the fact that he’s supposedly against the mall.

Peter ignores the ripple of goosebumps that spread across his skin. He lifts his nose, but Tony still towers over him. “I do not agree wih Quinten Beck.” He snaps. “I’m sorry, but we do care about the environment. And we’re not going to have our beach destroyed for another mall.”

He pulls away then, pushing past Tony.

“Peter,” Tony says, and he can’t help but look back. Tony stands there, stupidly handsome, hands in his pockets, and his voice is as cool as the ocean-breeze when he says, “If I were married to you, I’d put you in my campaign videos too. You’ve got a face that changes minds, sweetheart.”

Another furious, heated blush, and Peter bumbles out into the sunshine.

Beach. He needs to go to the beach. Stat.

***

Peter’s freckles always make their debut in the LA Summer.

He serves a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade as he, Steve and Bucky take lunch out on the patio.

Bucky and Steve are pressed close together. It’d be odd, if it wasn’t so commonplace. But Peter expects it now. They’re childhood friends. It’s fine, probably. He tries not to think about it too much. Because he knows Steve. And Steve is kind and loyal, and even if he wanted to- he wouldn’t cheat on Peter.

Unfortunately, Peter thinks Steve might want to. More and more lately, now that Bucky’s basically been living here to help with the campaign.

“Thanks, Sweatpea,” Bucky murmurs, as Peter refills his glass.

For the man who’s stealing away his husband, Peter should probably like Bucky less. “No problem, James. Do you guys want more pecan pie?”

“It’s alright, sugar. Steve and I will eat at the community luncheon.”

Peter blinks. He turns to Steve, who looks away bashfully.

“What?” Bucky asks, reading their faces.

“We were invited to the Harrisson’s gala this afternoon.” Peter points out, still looking at Steve’s face, “it’s a great opportunity to raise some funds-”

“It’s a stuck up crowd,” Bucky points out, not incorrectly, “not exactly who we want associated with Steve’s campaign.”

“Right,” Peter hums, because Steve had a choice between him and Bucky, and Bucky’s already won.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Steve says earnestly, reaching his large hand across the table to take Peter’s. Bucky looks away. “I just feel the luncheon has a lot more to offer. You can go to the gala by yourself, can’t you? You’re more than amazing without me dragging you down.”

Not true. Peter thinks, because as much as he loves being free, Steve’s all-American home spun wholesomeness always leaves a trail of admirers.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “You guys have fun.”

He collects the rest of the dishes and takes them inside, unaware that he has a Bucky-shaped shadow until he’s corned next to the kitchen sink.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, bowing his head, and Peter half-smiles. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I knew you guys had already-”

“It’s alright.” Peter says softly, “I think he would rather be with you anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes snap to his, ice-blue and frightened and hopeful. “Pete…” he says, voice a little raw. “It’s not…”

“You guys alright in there?” Steve calls from outside.

Peter ducks under Bucky’s arm, and it isn’t very difficult to make his voice bright when he calls back: “Just fine!”

***

The Harrison’s own a ridiculously nice estate, and Peter only feels a little out of place. He’s in the dark blue silks he brought with him to LA all those years ago, and Mr Harrisson greets him warmly at the door.

It’s...better than he thought it would be. It turns out he doesn’t really need Steve. At all, actually. He’s clever and he has his degree and he knows a lot about the environment. People like him. They respond to him. It’s-

“Just look at you,” comes a whistle, and Peter turns slowly to see Tony Stark in a tuxedo.

Fuck. It’s a very tasty sight. Tastier than the crab rolls being handed out, and they were pretty damn incredible.

“You’re just working the room, aren’t you, honey?” Tony drawls, voice dripping with appreciation and something low and dark and-

“I’m uh, I’m trying,” Peter manages, feeling his cheeks flush.

Tony looks like he wants to step closer, but he doesn’t. Peter kind of- maybe a little- wants him too. “And where’s your very lucky husband?”

“Oh, he’s...he’s not here.”

Tony’s eyes light up. “Really? Well, how about you and me get some air?”

The Harrison’s house sits on the beach, and Peter kicks off his shoes and is pulled down onto the sand as easy as breathing.

God, the ocean air. He rolls up his trousers, sinks his feet into the cold, trembling waves.

“Just look at you,” Tony hums, and Peter turns to see he’s being watched, and Tony’s skin looks even better lit by the sunset.

“You said that already,” he points out, feeling bolder, braver, now that he’s out on the beach.

“Well, maybe that’s because I can’t stop looking at you.”

Peter blushes, before stepping into the water a little further. “Are you going to join me? Or do you hate the ocean as much as you claim?”

Tony obligingly toes off his shoes. “Never said I hated the ocean. Don’t get me mixed up with Beck. I just know that sometimes we’ve gotta sacrifice things in the name of progress. Technology. The future.”

Tony pulls off his bowtie, slips off his jacket, and then comes and wades into his knees.

“Gotta sacrifice things,” Peter echoes, “like the ocean. Like trees. Who needs ‘em, right? They only give us oxygen.”

Tony grins at him. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you, Peter? I thought you liked my mall. Or wasn’t that you? In that gorgeous little aerobics get up? Eating one of those danishes- to die for, aren’t they? Wasn’t that you, sighing at a colour tv?”

Peter scoffs because he doesn’t have a comeback, and he glances out at the horizon.

“You were mine, sweetheart, you’d be purring away with that tv at your feet. I’d buy you a hundred if you wanted ‘em. You wouldn’t want for anything.”

Jesus. Peter tries to stifle the flood of arousal that courses through him. “I’d be wanting for a husband that cared about protecting our coast line.” He manages, though it sounds a little weak.

“The coast line,” Tony hums, reaching a hand down to plunge into the water. “The beach. You a surfer?”

“No, I just...I like the beach, it makes me feel…” free “...it’s the beach. It’s nature. It’s not for us to bend and re-shape for another mall, Tony.”

Tony chuckles, “I do like to hear you say my same.”

Peter scowls, and heads back for the sand. A few splashes later, Tony follows. “You can’t...I don’t know, you can’t seduce me into supporting you.”

Tony’s hand grips around his wrist just before Peter reaches his shoes, and he’s looking up into very dark brown eyes, and a very, very appealing mouth. “I’m not trying to change your mind.” Tony murmurs, “I’m just trying to see where it is you stand. You like the mall, you didn’t mind the trees being cut down there, but the beach. The beach is where you have a problem. It’s your line.”

“It-it’-it’s not about me.” Peter stutters, feeling exposed, “My husband is the one running for-”

“And I am trying to seduce you. Have been since I saw you in that advert. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Thought they’d hired a model at first, and then I found out you were married to him. I couldn’t believe it.”

Oh. Warmth buzzes through his skin, flattered and delighted and giddy, Peter doesn’t know what in the name of hell possesses him to say: “He’s not going to be my husband for much longer.”

Tony’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Then he smirks. His hand is still wrapped around Peter’s wrist. “That so?”

A few other guests pull out onto the beach now, and Peter spots Mrs Harrisson in the distance.

“Save our wave, Mr Stark,” he whispers, unable to stop smiling, as he gathers his shoes and heads over.

***

He and Steve have sex that night.

It’s the best sex they’ve had in a long time. Passionate, erotic, and Peter knows why. It’s because he was just with Tony, and Steve was just with Bucky, and they’re both pretending.

Afterwards, still warm from the haze, they look at one another.

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” Steve whispers, voice-choked up, and Peter brushes away his tears.

“Don’t be. Where you are, it’s where I am. You and Bucky are made for each other.”

“You have someone too?” Steve asks. Peter nods. “Okay. Okay, but not till...not till after the campaign. Divorce…” the word makes him jerk a little, and Peter soothes him, “it could rock things.”

“After the campaign,” Peter nods, and they sleep in each other’s arms, and maybe it shouldn’t feel like everything’s going to be okay, but it does.

***

Steve annihilates Tony in the televised debate.

Peter knew he would. Tony is clever and pithy, but Steve is earnest, and kind, and people can see that. They can feel that. Tony handles it as well as he can, but it’s clear by the end of the interview- Steve is ahead.

Peter swims back towards the shore.

He’s still wet as he pads into the mall and heads for the pastry-store.

“I’ll get that,” Tony says, appearing from nowhere and handing over the money before Peter can fish his wallet from his ocean-wet shorts.

Tony’s hand is on the small of his back then, guiding him towards the food court, and soon Peter’s eating his pastry on a plastic red chair, and looking at Tony with wide, innocent eyes.

Tony breaks first.

“So, your husband’s campaign is a little stronger than I thought.”

Peter laughs. The sound seems to make Tony light up, and that just- Peter’s stomach tightens.

“My advisor’s are a little worried.”

“Steve is very good.” Peter agrees, taking another bite.

Tony leans across the table, and his cologne makes Peter want. “I’m better, though, Pete, is the thing.”

“Are we still talking about the campaign?”

“Let’s get dinner.” Tony says suddenly, “please. I know it’s early, but I am burning with it, Pete. I think about you all the time, I can’t keep staking out beaches and malls hoping to run into you.”

“What if someone sees us? What about Steve’s campaign-”

“It’d hurt mine just the same. Who gets the sympathy? The man being cheated on, or the man who slept with a married guy?”

Peter pulls the pastry apart with his fingers. “Just dinner?”

“At my house.”

Peter laughs, scandalised, “dinner at your house? How easy do you think I am?”

“Not easy at all. You’re fucking difficult, sweetheart. Look at what you’re wearing, fuck, it’s like you want to torture me.”

Peter tries not to blush and fails. His voice is gentle though, when he voices his main concern: “And what happens if once you’ve...once we’ve...what happens then? Curiosity satisfied, you might not want to see me anymore.”

Tony reaches across the table to touch Peter’s hand. Peter looks around worriedly, but nobody is paying them any mind.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Tony whispers, more serious than Peter has ever seen him. “Peter, I would never get bored of you.”

“It’s happened before,” Peter says weakly, and doesn’t realise how true it is until it’s spoken aloud. The pain for the divorce yet to happen ripples across his chest. Oh god, where has this been? Someone loved him once, and then found someone else-

“I’m gonna crush him.” Tony vows, voice vicious, as soon as he spots the glitter of Peter’s tears. “I’m going to destroy his campaign-”

“No, no,” Peter insists, sniffling, and managing a small smile. “Steve is- he’s a good guy, Tony. A good guy with a good cause, you don’t need to,” Peter huffs fondly, “you don’t need to protect my honour.

“Alright,” Tony says, a little bit like he’s unconvinced, so Peter squeezes his hand.

“I want to have dinner with you. I want to feel your hands on me- I- I think about it all the time. And afterwards, I want...more.” Peter looks down at their hands. “You said you’d get me anything.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tony whispers, “I’m going to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

***

The mall gets made.

In the next town over. The beach is saved. Steve wins.

They divorce.

Steve hugs him. Bucky hugs him. There’s a lot of crying, but then Peter’s being picked up in a ludicrously nice hot-red car, and there’s Tony and kissing and a house in Malibu right on the sand.

There’s a wedding, and teasing, and arguments. There’s sex. A lot of sex. There’s swimming and living and life under the sun.

There’s a thousand things. A million things.

And every day with Tony promises more.

When Peter wakes up, ready for the beach, Tony slathers him with suncream and for some reason it doesn’t feel like he’s trapped.

Maybe it was never about the suncream.

He still loves the beach. And the sunshine. And the gulls swooping low and the sand under his toes, but-

But he doesn’t need it to feel free. He feels free right here, in bed, tangled up with Tony and the promise of more.

#starker #physical inspired #background Steve x peter #no cheating #politician tony #80s setting #aerobics #Peter parker #Tony stark #Tony x peter

149 notes · View notes

visceral-stories · 3 years

Text

One Cigar

Evan took a step outside from the wedding reception and looked over the balcony of the skyscraper’s twenty-seventh floor. The room was spinning a bit and Evan had had one too many drinks. Clenching the guardrail, he looked out to the city, its neon lights looked like dots and the cars and busses below looked like ants from up here. As a casual drinker, getting this tipsy was a rarity for him. But it was for an exciting occasion. Evan’s older brother had just gotten married to the woman of his dreams and he was overjoyed for him, maybe a little too overjoyed. At twenty-two years old, he certainly didn’t remember his limitations with alcohol. Now, he was in a drunk paralysis where all he could do was ride out the inebriation and cherish the undisturbed silence of this lonely balcony underneath the beauty of a starry, night sky.

His silence was short-lived as the door opened behind him and a group of older gentleman came walking through. Whatever they were talking about, they certainly were having a grand time. They were all dressed in three-piece suits and suspenders and their boisterous, baritone voices echoed across the surrounding tiles, disturbing Evan’s peace. They must be from the bride’s side of the family as Evan did not recognize any of them. He sighed and continued staring up at the sky. He closed his eyes and tried his best to zone out their chatter, but it seemed to consume his drunken brain to the point where it was all he could focus on.

“Man, I love weddings,” one said.

“It’s always good to bring people together,” another chimed. “It’s a place where I can see all my kids and grandkids at once.”

Evan’s head was ringing, but he didn’t have the guts to tell the men to get lost so he could just stay out here and focus on not falling over. In silence, he suffered and continued to white-knuckle grip the guardrail. Then, the smell of tobacco overwhelmed his nose. In disgust, he turned to face the men and noticed that every one of them was now sporting a cigar. Sheesh, now they were going to stink up the place. One of the men locked eyes with Evan and his gruff expression lightened to a more friendly one. Evan immediately wished he hadn’t locked eyes with him; he did not feel sober enough for casual banter.

“Hey kid, you want one of these?” the man chirped as he sidled over next to Evan. He must’ve been in his sixties judging from his receding hairline and white hair. He certainly was taller than Evan and broader than him.

“A cigar?” Evan replied drunkenly, “Oh no thanks, I..I don’t smoke.”

“Come on, one won’t hurt ya, kid,” the man responded raising an eyebrow and grinning.

“Ohh, okay,” Evan said, easily persuaded in his drunken state. He honestly would’ve said anything to get these men to leave him alone. Before he knew it, the cigar was placed in his hand. Evan just stared at it, his eyelids fluttering and his brain still processing what was happening.

“You gonna smoke it or what?” one of the man’s friends called out.

Evan jolted upright, easily intimidated by the man’s domineering-sounding voice. It seemed stupid to obey what a stranger was telling him to do, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a tad curious about the taste. One puff couldn’t hurt. After all, he always saw gangsters and mob-bosses in movies smoking cigars, so it must be cool, right? The man extended his arm out with his lighter to ignite the cigar while Evan brought the cigar to his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

His lips connected with the cigar in a moment of strange bliss and it felt natural for one brief moment, at least until he started choking. The smoke filled his mouth and it felt like he had eaten a ghost pepper. He started coughing profusely as the other men burst out laughing. Tears welled in his eyes and sweat began to pour out of the pores in his face. Evan took off his glasses and itched the bridge of his nose, still spluttering. Then, he noticed something. His attire of a simple white dress shirt and pants had been altered. Instead, he now sported a fancy three-piece suit, just like the gentlemen next to him, even his shoes were new and shiny. As his coughing fits subsided, he spent moments just staring in shock at the enhanced formalwear he now sported wondering if he was hallucinating.

“Those things aren’t cheap. How do you reckon you’re gonna pay me?” the man said menacingly to Evan, causing his drunken paranoia to return until the man burst out laughing, louder than ever. “Just messin’ with ya, kid,” he said between laughs. He slapped Evan on the back, causing the younger man to nearly lose his balance. “My name’s Gene.” He shifted his body weight a bit and Evan stole a glance and could see that he was well-endowed with a prominent bulge in his suit pants.

“My name is Evan,” Evan responded as he brought his eyes back to meet Gene.

Gene grinned. “I can see you have style, kid. I’m likin’ your apparel.”

Evan blinked. This man’s demeanor was like a roller coaster, inducing panic at one moment and inducing relief at another. He also spoke with equal sophistication and exuberance. Just being next to Gene caused Evan to be more alert of his surroundings. It was almost like his drunkenness was fading away. He decided it would be rude to not respond. “Hey, thanks man,” Evan replied, with a burst of confidence present in his voice. “I like yours too?” Damn, maybe he was still rather drunk.

“My what?” Gene asked. The other men had returned to a separate discussion and now the conversation was only between him and Gene.

“Your.. your suit,” Evan slurred, “I think it looks rather…. dapper.” Saying that final word aloud sent a vibration through Evan’s body that felt ethereal. It was a suave word and he liked the way it rolled off his tongue. Then, he realized he was craving another puff of the cigar. Maybe this time it would feel right and he wouldn’t cough. He brought the cigar to his lips as Gene began talking.

“Oh yes, my suit. At my size, I get them custom-made at my size at Lionel’s Toggery downtown. And where do you get yours made?”

Evan exhaled and smoke poured out of his mouth as he spoke. Some of it clung to the area above his lips. He coughed a bit, but this inhale was much better than his first one. “I get mine custom made at Lionel’s too,” his mouth betrayed his thoughts. “You know, he and I went to college together.” Why on earth was he saying that? Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Evan tried to swat the smoke above his lips, but instead, his hand came in contact with hair follicles. Somehow, the smoke had reconstructed into hair to endow him with a dapper mustache to match his dapper new suit. The color was black unlike his typical head of auburn hair. Unbeknownst to Evan, the hair on his head quickly dyed itself black to complement it.

“You went to college with Lionel Emerson?” Gene asked while taking a puff of his own cigar.

“Sure did. He and I sure had a grand time during our college years.” Evan said, fully committing to his lie. Why had he used the phrase ‘college years’ though? His drunk brain was promptly distracted and he glanced down again at his three-piece suit, fully admiring the jacket, waistcoat, and trousers, all perfectly pressed and devoid of creases. His eyebrows blackened and his lips thickened a bit, giving him a more mature look he lacked prior. Gazing back to the ballroom’s windows for a moment, Evan caught a glimpse of his nice suit, and it ingrained permanent confidence within him. He didn’t feel intimidated by Gene anymore or feel the need to lie to a friend of his. They knew each other somehow, but he wasn’t sure what connected them. Evan smiled to himself and realized he craved another drag of the cigar.

This time he exhaled with no coughing whatsoever, however, a scratchy feeling permeated his throat. Evan winced as some of the smoke worked its way down his esophagus and penetrated his larynx, lowering his voice to a new bass register. “How do you know the bride?” Evan asked before his eyes widened at the sound of his new voice. It was even lower than Gene’s.

Gene was unphased. “I am Brenda’s great-uncle.” A cloud of smoke poured from his mouth and a sudden somber expression crossed his face. “I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. I just can’t believe she’s finally getting married.” Evan noticed the vulnerability in his eyes. “Her mother divorced when she was very young and I had to step in to help take care of her when times were tough.” His voice choked a little. “She became the daughter I never had and I can’t believe she’s going to start a family.” He tried his best to return to his amiable nature. “Really makes you feel old doesn’t it, Evan?”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said in an effort to be comforting. His voice was still extremely deep. Maybe it was just from the cigar. He took a fourth drag of his cigar and this time he didn’t cough as the smoke surged from his mouth. It was starting to come easier for him. He momentarily swayed in place when a headrush brought on by the cigar caught him off guard. Unbeknownst to him, his body had grown from its 5’7 stature to a 6’2 stature and with it, his liver had grown. Evan felt much better as the change had completely destroyed the intoxicated state he had been in. Now, he was a little preoccupied with the nicotine buzz.

“It’s alright Evan,” Gene replied. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“What do you mean by that?” Evan asked in a state of confusion.

A look of empathy returned to Gene’s visage as he spoke. “You and I, we’ve been through a lot together and you’ve always stuck by my side.”

Evan was about to object when a deluge of memories of him and Gene poured into his memory. He could remember remaining alongside Gene while they helped raise Brenda. He could remember so many little details, such as assisting with the house’s finances, maintaining its upkeep, shoveling the driveway in the winter, mowing the lawn in the summer, and watching Brenda when her single mother Cathy was at work. Gene and he had gone to weddings, funerals, and vacations together. He had just retired from his career as a stockbroker this year and they were planning on taking a trip to the Bahamas at the end of the year. They had known each other for a long time. The sheer amount of memories was overpowering as they directly conflicted with other memories Evan had. Wasn’t he in his twenties? Why would he even be alive back then?

Evan decided to take another drag of the cigar to bring him back to normality. But when he exhaled this time, a cloud of smoke clung to his whole face. “Ack!” he muttered, feeling the smoke enter his eyes, nose, and hair. This drag was much stronger than those prior. Instantly, wrinkles appeared around Evan’s once youthful face, and bags formed under his eyes. His nose became more bulbous and extended out, becoming a permanent fixture of his face. Laugh lines emerged on his cheeks and his hairline inched back a few inches, exposing more of his forehead. His black mustache drained of color and promptly turned grey. For some reason, his head of hair remained black and it almost looked like a toupee in the fact that it didn’t match the grey hair appearing on his body. Evan squinted his eyebrows in befuddlement and glanced down at his cigar.

Gene could only watch as the man in front of him aged and transformed from a boy to an older man right before his eyes. He too was feeling a deep-rooted connection to Evan, but he couldn’t place what it was. When he pictured himself helping out his niece raise Brenda, Evan was there by his side always. For some reason, he thought he had been single all his life? Visions of them living in a quaint house in the suburbs penetrated his mind and disproved that thought. The pair of men were practically inseparable.

The world was spinning for Evan again, this time not in an alcohol-induced way, but in a painfully sober way. He furrowed his eyebrows as he pulled the cigar from his lips. It felt like his brain tissue was revitalizing and shifting to overwrite the reality that he was only in his twenties. He must be much older than that to be by Gene’s side for that long. He was in his sixties, wasn’t he? No, that couldn’t be right. Likewise, Gene’s world was spinning too as he became enraptured with Evan and he started to view him as a pillar in his life for a very long time.

A stiffness clung to Evan’s muscles. He instinctively flexed his whole body only for a wave of warmth to come swimming through his veins and his body started changing to become the man of those memories. Everything about him enlarged. His arms pressed tightly against his white dress shirt and they became much firmer than before. Concealed beneath his suit jacket, Evan’s chest puffed out to support a man who still frequented the gym even in his older age. His pecs rose a bit and his lean figure shifted to be slightly muscular. Even his cock grew a bit in his pants, creating a bulge that he was almost proud of. Evan became infatuated with his aging body and indulged a new sense of gratification through respecting the way he dressed it. He was a regal man who always dressed like he owned the place. It was a way to garner respect and to imbue him with a fascination with formalwear.

One of the men in the other group broke the silence,. He walked over and placed his hand on the large man’s broad back. “Wonderful speech tonight Gene,” he said. He extended his arm out to Evan for a handshake which Evan promptly accepted, shaking hard. “You too Vernon.” A faint chatter of “thank-you’s” came from the other group of men. A peculiar sense of honor filled Vernon’s head when he heard that name. Vernon justified that the man probably wasn’t referring to him, but the name seemed to lock perfectly in his brain and radiated sophistication. He placed his cigar on an ashtray. “Thank you, Tom,” Vernon replied in his deep voice as he adjusted the lapels on his suit. “It was an honor to give that speech for such a special woman.” He repositioned his figure and leaned a bit to fully display his suave suit.

Gene wrapped his arm around Vernon’s back, causing his blood to grow cold. “My husband and I have supported Brenda through the thick and thin and we would do it all again.”

Vernon flinched. He wanted to fight the thoughts of being this man’s partner for decades, but it was a true statement. The two had seen each other at their highest and lowest points. He was an accountant and Gene was a stockbroker so they knew a thing or two about how to manage money. Vernon was planning on retiring soon. After all, being an accountant for forty-five years was quite a long time. “No,” Vernon breathed quietly to himself. But then, the visions became stronger than ever before. He could picture him and Gene on the beach in their youth, both clad in speedos and unabashed about their bodies. Most shockingly, memories of him and Gene engaged in sex countless times in many, many beds inundated his mind. Visions of Gene’s bearded face and his mustached one passionately kissing and caressing each other’s bodies became a prominent image in his mind. Vernon could just picture his taller and more slender body screwing Gene’s much larger one. Gene would grasp the headboard and they would just make the sexiest noises together. They certainly weren’t just close friends. They were soulmates.

The thought of that terrified Vernon and he quickly picked his cigar back up from the ashtray and took his biggest drag so far. Upon exhaling, the smoke flowed upward to his remaining head of hair and engulfed it. In an instant, his black hair became a sexy grey and matched his mustache. Vernon’s eyes met Gene’s and his paranoia dissolved into placidity. Gene was staring at him with an expression he could only describe as love. “We’ve been through a lot together, Gene and I.” Vernon added as he instinctively wrapped his arm around his husband. In spite of their masculine and intimidating presence, the two of them were some of the kindest men.

The group of gentlemen expressed their respect once again and meandered back into the ballroom, leaving the pair of older men alone. “What do you think Vernon? Should we go back in?”

Unable to answer his question, Vernon leaned in for a long, ardent kiss which Gene happily returned. With no one else around, he wrapped his hand around Gene’s large butt, a gesture which Gene reciprocated. Vernon’s hands then found their way resting on his husband’s sizeable gut. It was quite the antithesis of his slimmer figure, but that’s why he was obsessed with Gene’s body.

Their lips parted and the two looked at each other with the same intensity from when they first met, some forty years ago. There was no one else Vernon could ever picture to protect his heart besides Gene. Because of Gene, he was a great-uncle in-law and he loved every second of it. The two men both took final drags of their cigars and placed them in the ashtray. Both of them sure had the affinity for cigars and they loved the smell of them. “Great smoke break, Gene,” Vernon said in his booming, low voice. The two men had a final kiss before they made their way back to the reception. Maybe that was why Vernon loved cigars so much. They force people to take a break from their busy lives to savor a moment in time. Vernon felt reinvigorated and one cigar was all it took.

#male tf #male transformtaion #mental change #reality shift #image story #age progression #sartorial #businessman #sexuality change #older #straight to gay #reality change

169 notes · View notes

theneondemonx · 3 years

Text

JUDAS | JJK

Part One

▽ summary: you’ve always been the type to focus more on your academic career rather than to chase after boys. Kim Namjoon, however, managed to pierce right through the walls you built around yourself and before you knew, you found yourself being the girlfriend of the world’s biggest band’s leader. Nothing and no one can come between the two of you.. or at least this is what you believe to be true until you meet Jeon Jungkook.

▽ genre: angst (there will be tons of it), love triangle, smut, fluff

▽ pairings: idol!namjoon x fem!reader , idol!jungkook x fem! reader

▽ words: 2776

▽ warnings: this chapter doesn’t contain any sensitive topic. However, the next ones will most likely contain smut.

[⏵playlist]

When you first met Kim Namjoon, you were at a point in life in which dating was not really a priority of yours. Things were going great: you graduated, you started your PhD, you had a nice group of friends and you were overall content with your life. You were way past the point in which you felt the need to have a boyfriend, and that, perhaps, was by itself a signal that you were mature enough to dive into a relationship. A real one. Not those Waterloos you had over the years. In your blissful ignorance, you were pretty sure you didn’t want to commit to something serious anytime soon. I don’t have the time. I want to focus on my studies. I’m like Cher: I do not want to marry a rich man, I’m gonna be the rich man, you know? You used to say this shit all the time while drinking a glass of wine with your collegues like the fine educated lady you were. But the truth was different: you had standards, and most people just didn’t make the cut.

When you met Namjoon, however, it was clear as day that you had found your match. He was smart – way smarter than you were comfortable admitting – and charismatic. He has to have his head up his ass. He has to. He is an idol, for God’s sake! It was almost maniacal the way you felt the need to find some flaw in him, one big enough to make you go “adios bitch”. And a part of you was strangely irritated by the fact that he was giving you zero excuses to abort mission. At the same time, the chemistry between you two was undeniable and everyone could see that, even you, although you were still trying to pull your unbreachable bitch act – a nice alliterative name that Namjoon ironically gave to your attitude after you started dating. Yeah, how did that even happen? How can someone like you – cool, of course, but just a student like many others – gets to know, let alone date, not just an idol, but the leader of the biggest band in the world?

It’s the oldest and less interesting story in the world: mutual acquaintances. Apparently, your professor was married to some big shot in Hybe and the both of you were invited to the same fancy cocktail party at their place. Namjoon was the only BTS attending, probably because having all seven of them would draw too much attention.

Long story short: introductions were made and you found yourself talking about the tragedy that is traffic in Seoul with the leader of BTS. You know.. a classic saturday.

It was so natural, talking to him, that you completely lost track of time and went on for hours until people started going back to their homes. You did not expect him, however, to ask you for your number like.. well, like a normal person who doesn’t have millions of people all over the world willing to pay whatever price just to get a glimpse of him from afar. You gave it to him like nothing, without really expecting anything to come out of it.

He will probably forget about it as soon as he walks out the door. Or maybe he’ll text me something like “dtf?” just cause he thinks he can.

And you were sure he could. After all, he was still Kim Namjoon: if you didn’t want to have sex with him, there were millions of people ready to beg for his dick. But you were so wrong!

He texted you the morning after and set a date for the weekend. For lunch. Damn the man is smart. Always two steps ahead of you and your unreasonable prejudice, which he slowly peeled through layer by layer until you found yourself processing the weirdest shit you’d ever thought possible: you were Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend.

Almost a year later, your relationship was still going strong. It wasn’t easy, balancing your packed schedules and keeping the thing out of the public eye, but you were both willing to put some extra effort to make it work. At first it was weird, having to deal with everything that came with his fame, but you adjusted pretty easily and slowly found your balance inside that messed up world of his. You supported him and he did the same with you, always asking you about your job and getting invested in whatever reasearch you had going on. He liked hearing about those intellectual stuff – like he called them – and bragging to his friends about how smart his girlfriend was. Those friends, of course, included the other members of the band, which you slowly met one by one.

Well.. except for one in particular: Jeon Jungkook. In almost a year of relationship with Namjoon, you’ve never met the man, you’ve never even been in the same room with him. A part of you jokingly referred to him as a collective allucination: he didn’t really exist, BTS had only six members but they somehow managed to convince everyone that they had seven. Tax reasons. Or maybe it was like a Paul McCartney-conspiracy theory thing in which Jeon Jungkook was actually dead and replaced by a convincing lookalike.

It was fun for you, to entertain in such foolish thoughts – or at least it was until you started to find the all thing pretty weird. The first few months, you didn’t really notice or care: BTS members were busy people, you’ll eventually meet him, no big deal. But then you sarted to notice a weird pattern, like somehow Namjoon was going out of his way to not introduce the two of you.

Whenever Jungkook was around, you were either not invited, or quickly – and somewhat naturally – taken away by your boyfriend. But the weirdest thing was that he didn’t even talk about him while you were around. He mentioned him a few times, sure, but it was always to get to another point, which was pretty bizarre since he often shared anecdotes about the other members. And every time you tried to subtly inquire about this misterious Jungkook, Namjoon was always quick to change the topic in the most natural way, not giving you any reason to at least pick on his strange behavior.

Now the thing is this: normally, you wouldn’t really give two shits about the whole thing. You met the others and never felt that much of a need to know about them. They were cool guys and you liked hanging with them, but at the end of the day questions about them wouldn’t for sure keep you awake at night. However, you are the woman who willingly decided to wrote her dissertation on James Joyce’s Ulysses, and that speaks volume about your inability to resist a challange. The more something was kept hidden from you, the more you wanted to know everything about it. The point was not even the thing itself: you were just too curious for your own good.

Sure, you could have asked Namjoon directly, and you obviously thought about it, but you always stepped back from the plan, thinking that this sudden interest might come off as weird. So you decided to take matters into your own hands, because of course you are smart, but you can still be pretty fucking dumb when it comes to the most trivial things in life.

By now you knew Namjoon’s stylist like the back of your hands, since you saw her way more often than you saw your own parents. She was a sweet and caring girl who treated you like a sister since day one, and it wasn’t weird to ask her for some favor from time to time.

“Nuna! Can I ask you something?” you said with simplicity, while rotating the spoon in your cup of coffee. You two met for lunch break that day, like you often did.

“Shoot!” she replied with that usual joyful tone of hers, which gave you the green light to cross your arms on the table and lean a bit forward towards her, as if to say something that had to remain between you two.

“You know.. next Friday will be the anniversary of me and Namjoon’s first meeting and I wanted to do something special.”

“Isn’t it the same day of the concert?” Exactly!

“Yeah.. I know. When the dates came out I knew there was no way in hell we could properly celebrate. But it’s fine. You know.. as long as he keeps his schedule clear for our actual anniversary, I’m good with it. However, I thought I might surprise him backstage after the concert.”

Was it bitchy of you to use that celebration as a way to calm your curiosity? Probably. You definitely thought about the morals of it, but you decided that there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn’t like you were going to hit on his collegue. You just needed to see what was all that fuss about.

“That’s cute. So you need me to pass security?”

You nodded.

“But Namjoon cannot know about it.”

“We can manage that, don’t worry.”

And there you were, standing in the styling room in the backstage of a BTS concert, staring at your boyfriend through a monitor and smiling by yourself. Whenever you saw him perform, you felt so proud of him.

No wonder people love you so much. You work so hard. You deserve everything and more.

At the end of the show, you sniffled a bit, quick to gather a lonely tear forming at the corner of your eye. You always got a bit emotional when you saw him pouring his heart into music, but you were way too proud to admit it. So you sucked it up, clearing your throat and turning to face a mirror in order to check your makeup and hair before the guys came back.

You for sure expected Namjoon to be surprised by your presence, since you never waited for him in the backstage of a concert, but not as much as he looked when he saw you.

The moment he met your smiley face with his gaze, he froze. Whatever he was saying to Jin, suddenly lost in silence. You know when people say “he looked like a deer in headlights”? Yeah.. that was the closest you’ve ever seen someone look like that. Which was utterly weird, considering Namjoon was the type of person who rarely gets caught off guard.

“Y/N! W-what are you doing here?” he managed to finally say, walking towards you with long and quick steps while constantly looking over his shoulders like someone might stab him at any moment.

“Just wanted to surprise you. It’s been one year since the first time we met, so..” you shrugged, smiling like it was nothing, before leaning to place a kiss on his lips. “I saw the concert. Well.. half of it. You were amazing, baby.”

“Uh.. thanks. I.. I’m sorry.. I thought we would meet up later at your place.”

“And miss that face of sheer and absolute terror?” You shook your head, laughing at his reaction. “Never!”

He rolled his eyes, letting a smile form on his lips while he wrapped his arm around your neck.

“JOON, YOU’RE SWEATY!” you cried out, ironically trying to shake him off of you while still laughing.

“Well I guess what goes around comes around, Y/N..”

But your goofing around was soon interrupted by the one voice in the band you knew the less.

“So this is the famous Y/L/N Y/N.” said Jungkook with a calm tone, slowly walking towards the two of you.

You immediatly felt Namjoon stiffen at his voice, his smile quickly turning to a cold inexpressive line while Jungkook stopped right in front of you. The dark maknae’s eyes were piercing through you with such an intensity that you immediatly felt the need to look away. After highschool, you’ve built your self confidence up slowly but surely until things like speaking in public or meeting new people did not make you shy anymore. But there was something in Jungkook that made you feel like you’ve gone back to those old days. He was just so intimidating in the way he carried himself and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

Get a grip on yourself, woman! You are an academic, for God’s sake!

“I was starting to think that Namjoon hyung here had come up with an imaginary girlfriend.” He continued, pointing at Namjoon with a nod while a grin formed on his face.

“Guess all the creativity was sucked up by songwriting then.” You were quick to respond, calling back your composure to step further and bow at the guy. You got up with a confident smile on your face, raising your chin. An attitude which Jungkook seemed to find somewhat amusing, smiling at himself while returning your greeting with a slow bow.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook. Nice to finally meet you.”

And I don’t live under a rock. Nice to meet you too.

You smiled, analyzing his movements and expressions to get a first glimpse of the person behind that well known name. For sure he didn’t look like the adorable little bunny fans made him. More like a snake. But maybe you were prejudiced by your own overthinking about the reasons Namjoon might have had to keep you away from him.

“Cool. You met everyone now, Y/N. How about we go now?” There was no way of ignoring the latent annoyance in Namjoon’s voice, so you nodded. You didn’t want to push the thing any further and now you had enough reasons to at least ask your boyfriend about the obvious coldness between him and his collegue.

You and Namjoon said goodbye to everyone, making your way towards the exit – which for him looked like a glorious escape from Alcatraz, judging from his eyes and the rush in his movements. But just as you were about to walk through the door, Jungkook’s voice stopped you.

“Y/N?”

You turned towards him with a questioning look on your face, without saying anything.

“It’s my birthday next week. I’m throwing a party.” He smiled, looking at Namjoon for a split second before adding “You should come.”

“Mh.. sure. Why not?”

“We are not going to that party, Y/N.”

Ok. That was quick.

And for quick, we are talking about stepping inside the car kind of quick. For some reason, Namjoon was pissed. Pissed like you’ve never seen him before.

“Ok, let’s not beat the bush: what’s the deal, Joon? Is there some kind of cockfight between you and Jungkook going on?”

Namjoon had never been the type to lie or hide stuff from you. He was always pretty much direct, sometimes even too much. But you could tell that this time was different, that he was adamant in keeping whatever that was to himself.

“Can you just, for once, drop it without questioning everything? I don’t wanna go. That’s it.”

You frowned, looking straight at him even though he was keeping his eyes out of the window. He fucked up. He knew. He could feel the death stare without the need to look. You didn’t like that tone, that attitude of “I don’t have to explain myself, just deal with it”.

You might be mr big shot for your fans, but mama didn’t raise no bitch, asshole!

“And what if I wanna go, mh?”

What you gonna do about that, Rap Monster?

Silence fell inside the car after your words. Namjoon was determined not to look at you, like you were Medusa and your eyes could turn him into stone. He was trapped. He knew that if he tried to pull something like “I forbid you to go” he would sound like a douchebag and he would never see the end of it – rightfully so. At the same time, he would have gladly cut off one of his limbs rather than letting you go alone to that party. Checkmate, bitch.

He did not respond. You won. And you knew you won. But deep down you couldn’t help but feel that victory as covered in bitterness. Was it worth it? Was it really worth it to ruin your special day just to go to a party you didn’t even care about? Just to win a petty argument? The fact that he was wrong didn’t mean that you were necessarily right. Maybe you fucked up too, in your way. For sure you didn’t feel good when you found yourself sleeping back to back with Namjoon that night.

But you slept anyway.

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jjk #jk #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #smut #fluff #jungkook angst #namjoon angst #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #judas

132 notes · View notes

wardenannie · 3 years

Note

Hange as princess and having her first time with knight Levi.

It's all good, and they love each other, but while doing it, the word 'sin' and 'He(I)'ll die if we get caught' keep coming to their head.

NSFW under the cut. Loved this one anon. It will be cross-posted as a one-shot on Ao3. 💚

That she was a princess had seemed like a minute detail in her life until that moment. She was a scientist, a researcher, a practiced medic on the field of battle, a skilled archer and horseman. And then came the day of her betrothal, and she was reminded of everything she hated.

Hange Zoe didn't want to be a princess, she wasn't even certain that she wanted to be a woman. She simply wanted to be Hange; but her life would never allow for that. At twenty-five she had eluded her fate longer than most, but her chest still felt empty as she wandered into her apartments.

She wore her riding leathers, smeared with dust and dirt, it clung beneath her nails and dulled the luster of her hair. Outside, over her balcony, the sun was setting, painting the sky a million hues of pink and orange and violet.

"Shit," she cursed softly to herself. Throwing off her dirty clothes in favor of a billowing nightgown. "Fuck."

The worst part of it all was that she couldn't even hate him, the man she was destined to marry. Erwin Smith was fifteen years her senior, but a good man well known for his military prowess and chivalry.

He was a good match, which only made Hange hate him more.

She threw herself onto her bed and screamed into a satin pillow.

It wasn't fair. It was so completely undeniably unfair that she should be sold off as breeding stock.

There came a knock at the door, followed by a low, "Princess?"

It was Levi, her loyal knight and bodyguard since she was fifteen. Secret love of her life. Though it wasn't a secret between them.

"Come in," she turned her face from the pillow. When he opened the door she added, "Don't call me princess. You know better."

Levi's expression was grim, "Hange."

They both knew of the feelings that lingered between them, though neither of them had ever acted upon them. This was as much a loss for Levi as it was for her.

"I don't want this," she said softly, rising to sit on the edge of her bed. She fisted the duvet, then insisted; "I don't want this!"

Levi sat beside her, careful to keep a few feet between them. He had shed his armor in favor of a simple white shirt and black trousers, though he still wore his shortsword at his side and a dagger in his boot. Always prepared to defend his princess.

A man of few words, he didn't speak. He simply sat while she sobbed softly beside him.

"I just-" she hiccuped, "-I can't do it, Levi. I won't be married off to be bred like prize cattle."

Levi's fists tightened at his sides. The thought was unpleasant for him as well.

"Erwin is a good man," Levi bit out, jaw clenched. "I served under him in-

"I don't give a damn if he's a good man!" Hange leaned closer, she could smell the scent of him; leather, steel, man. Then, more quietly she said, "It isn't him I want… there isn't anyone I want but-

"Don't say it, princess," Levi cut her off, his eyes were steely, suddenly cold. "You can't take those words back."

He was right, to proclaim it now would change everything, irrevocably.

She didn't care.

Hange seized Levi by the back of the neck, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"I want you, Levi. You've always been by my side I... I lo-

He cut her off by pulling her into a searing kiss, tongue tracing along her lower lip. His hands wrenched into the fabric of her gown, bruising her hips.

Hange moaned into him, arms winding around the back of his neck. It felt so perfect, so right to trace her tongue along his, to breathe him in like air.

He pushed her backwards onto the embroidered duvet, eyes fiery, hungry.

"This is a sin," he rasped, then he kissed her throat, sucking the delicate skin there between his teeth.

Hange moaned, fingers raking through his dark hair, "Then we will burn together."

They kissed again, hands seeking over each other's bodies. Levi bunched her gown in his hands and hiked it up past her hips, exposing her peachy cunt to the cool air of the room.

Lips still locked on hers he probed her sex with a careful finger, knowing it to be her first time.

Hange pulled her mouth away, lips wet and swollen from their kisses. She gasped as he sank his finger into the second knuckle.

"They'll kill me," he breathed desperately into her neck. "They'll kill me if they catch us."

He curled his finger, drawing a moan past Hange's lips. Her eyes shut tight with pleasure, body tensing around his single intruding digit.

"We'll run," she gasped, fisting the sheets with one hand and clawing his back with the other. "We'll run far away, where they can never find us."

Levi added a second finger, pads curling back to brush deliciously against that sensitive spot.

"They'll kill me," he repeated again, more softly this time, as though he were resigned to his fate. They'll kill me, but at least I'll have loved you, he seemed to be saying.

"I won't let them," Hange sobbed with pleasure, real tears gathering in her eyes. "I won't, Levi, I love you."

Levi pulled his fingers free and leveraged himself over her, cock springing free from his trousers. His sword smacked against his hip, boots smearing dirt across the duvet. He kissed her collarbones and her throat, the head of his cock pressing firmly to her wet slit.

"Are you sure about this?" he exhaled desperately. "Once I do this, it cannot be undone."

It is a sin, his eyes seemed to say, his grip tight on her waist.

"Do it," she whimpered, rocking her hips against him. "Take my maidenhead away."

She didn't want Erwin to have it. She didn't want anyone to have it but Levi, her knight, her protector, her lover, love of her life.

With a single, sharp snap of his hips Levi entered her, stretching her out, making her moan with both pain and pleasure. Her nails tore up his clothed back, and she demanded softly in his ear that he move. There was no time for dawdling.

The pace he set was desperate, a frantic wet slide of his cock into her cunt. His balls slapped lewdly against her skin and their pants and cries filled up the room.

"A sin," Levi moaned, face buried against her neck. "It is a sin."

"I love you," Hange answered, rocking her hips into his with each thrust. The pain had faded, replaced entirely by burning hot pleasure. "I love you so much, Levi."

She felt his tears against her skin, and she combed her fingers through his hair. Their pace began to slow, bodies moving in gentle tandem as they began to make love.

"Hange," he whispered her name like a prayer, a mantra. "Hange, Hange, Hange."

Hange bit her lip, savoring the slide of him into her, gentle but firm. With each egress the head of his dick brushed something sensitive inside of her, blurring her vision and making her legs go numb.

Levi then sat up, keeping his dick seated firmly inside of her, and tugged his shirt over his head; revealing the scarred expanse of his torso to her. Hange sat up with him, settling in his lap, face to face with him as she rode him.

Her hands caressed each scar, soft as a kiss, a promise. They would endure through this hardship, this cardinal sin. Their love would endure.

They came together, wrapped around one another, faces tucked into each other's sweaty skin. It was blissful. The sensation of her whole body tightening, vision going white as warmth spilled between her legs was sublime.

They collapsed onto the pillows, wrapped around one another, whispering sweet nothings and sharing delicate kisses.

"I love you," Hange chanted. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Levi clutched her to his chest, tears still gathered in his eyes. He cradled her like she was the most precious thing; the love of his life.

"We'll run," Hange pleaded softly, lacing their fingers. "We'll run right now. We'll flee to Marley and live a simple life. They'll never find us."

She sat up, straddling his middle. She kissed his chin, his cheeks, his forehead and lips. She breathed her love into his pale, scarred skin.

"Run with me," she begged, lips trailing his jaw. Stubble was beginning to sprout from his pale skin, unshaven in his grief.

Levi swallowed thickly, then slowly disentangled himself from her. Silently, he moved to the edge of the bed where he rested his elbows on his knees.

"We'll run," he agreed, gruffly. "Gather your essentials now. Meet me at the stables at midnight, Hange."

Hange smiled wide and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing a kiss to the base of his neck.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

#levihan #my writing

77 notes · View notes

shelby-love · 3 years

Text

TOMMY SHELBY

Marrying Off for Love

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none

Warning(s): language

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's note: I made this as realistic as possible! It ends neutrally I think; not happily but not you know... It's an ending fit for the Peaky Blinders!

This is a Reader x OC / Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader one shot

Being free of the name was always a distant thought in your mind. You would weigh the good and the bad of having a last name with significant influence. The good somehow always overthrown the bad, leaving you with everything other than a clear, calm mind.

Sure, the luxury that came with being a Shelby was worth the sacrifice. So was your twisted family, you guessed.

At least until you met him.

A fine man with a heart of gold. Quite literally the only man in Britain worth your while.

He was perfect in every way with his looks and his manners… save for the name, of course.

Alessi Villin.

That was just your luck. Getting attention of your father's rivaling gangsters and falling head over heels in love with the man in charge.

So what does a girl do in that situation?

She chooses love of course.

***

"What the bloody hell is wrong with Y/N?" Asked Arthur after barging into the Garrison that was empty just several moments later. No man stayed upon hearing that the Shelby's were gathering for a meeting. The oldest of the brothers, and coincidentally your favorite one, leaned over the empty bar having decided to fix himself s strong drink.

"How's Linda?" Asked Polly instead, pressing her cigarette against the ash tray. She had left a few cigarettes burn themselves out until the smell started to dominate. Satisfied, she leaned back, never looking more imposing as she did right then.

"She's alright," he mumbled, swinging the glass so the drink practically flew into his throat like a rapid.

"Right," started Ava, discarding her coat on a lone chair before settling in the middle of the huddled Shelby family. "Family meeting."

"We can't start," Arthur announced suddenly, crashing onto a chair with a bottle of scotch in hand. "Y/N's not 'ere."

"Then where in the bloody hell is she?" Ada asked with a tired frown, knowing you were never late for the meetings. You showed your distaste toward them yes, but never in your life have you avoided or been purposely late to one.

It intrigued Tommy to know too. His daughter was his whole world. You were the piece of his past life that not even war could take away. Even though he didn't show it.

But the man shook his head, knowing one thing – his daughter wasn't a stupid girl. Like her aunts, she was every bit as cunning and smart. A true Shelby lady.

But still.

Where were you?

Only Polly Gray knew, but she wasn't going to say a word until it was deemed necessary.

***

The top of the grass hill has overlooked the forests for many years. The soft array of green grass and variously colored wildflowers goes on for miles all around. The air is cool against your skin, with a touch of humidity from the last night's rain.

Your legs stretch out in front of you like you've ran for miles. The blissful feeling from the position you're in eases your tense muscles. It's beautiful really, despite the slightly damp ground. Your back falls against the grass and hair spreads at the ground. The sky is clear, the perfect shade of light blue. It almost looks too good to be true. It makes you smile in delight, as you didn't really remember the last time you truly drew in a fresh breath of air.

The man who had brought you out too see this was even more beautiful. Alessi's carefree smile pursued by eyes the same shade as grass around you put your mind at ease. Helped you think clearly. Something you hadn't done in a long time.

You looked at him and saw what you wanted to be – someone free of chains that hold one's mind back from thinking out of the box. Someone loyal to a fault and loving.

"Oi! Come here," you bellowed, sitting up and waving your hands in the air to get him away from the red wildflowers and into your arms.

Alessi didn't waste a beat and marched back toward you.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, and you never felt more at home.

That thought scared you. It scared you to know that now, there was another place you called home. In the arms of your father's rival none the less.

But that's what he gets for leaving you to your thoughts all your life. He let you be swallowed by the doubts and insecurities until he couldn't do anything about the said fact.

You had always told yourself; It's the war. The war had done that to him.

But shouldn't a father love his daughter more than anything in the world? Tommy is a complicated man that chose to move his family up in the world as a way to cope with the lingering nightmares of the war.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Alessi had asked, immediately pulling you out of the train of thoughts in your mind.

"That raspy voice of yours is the sweetest of songs to my ears," you mused with a smile, head against his chest that rose and fell with rhythmic ease.

His laugh broke out, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere.

You sat up and reached for his pocket, pulling out his favorite pocket watch to check the time. He had it custom made - the watch – wanting to have both of your initials on the front.

You melted every time you saw it.

"I missed the family meeting," you said suddenly, realization sinking in. Alessi met your eyes after you had finished quietly cursing the planet.

"I mean," you started, "It's not like I wanted to go. That's more of a formality I guess… Showing up and all."

He nodded in understanding but a question stood in front of the understanding, "Then why'd you fall in love with me? My family meeting was 2 days ago."

You bit your lip, not quite knowing how to answer.

Alessi didn't look any different than before asking the question as he stood up off the damp grass, fetching his waistcoat to put on. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing," he simply said, the thick Scouse accent breaking out with the word.

"Preparing for what?" You asked him, scurrying over to stand up.

"To ask you to marry me."

He appeared in front of you, and like a gentleman went down on one knee. There wasn't a gangster in him at that moment, the façade for the public disappeared to show something he showed only you.

Love.

Something you hadn't experienced in a long time.

"I don't care about your family, Y/N." Alessi said, "The only one I care about is you. I don't want to start a war with them because I don't want to see you get hurt. That's how much I care for you. That is just how much I love you."

Whatever happened in the next moments were true.

You had chosen to be someone's bride.

You had chosen a side you would stand by for the rest of your life.

***

The Shelby meeting could be thrown straight in the mud. Every family member went after their thing and the only thing that did seem to flow in peace was the alcohol.

"No, I really think someone kidnapped her." Arthur repeated for the 5th time, truly believing that someone had forcefully taken you as a leverage against them.

"She's not missing."

Polly saw no point in keeping your secret at that moment and so for the first time, you had given her the honors of revealing something instead of you.

"Then where the fuck is she, eh?" Arthur voiced.

Aunt Pol smiled down at Tommy who was holding the wooden chair in a vise grip, not saying a word for a few moments. Her lust for the dramatics only brought new tension into the room. "With the man she loves."

Polly's words shocked everyone present. Arthur choked on his alcohol; Ada's eyes went wide; Lizzie froze in her seat, her cigarette left and forgotten in her hand.

And as your father.

He wore a blank expression on his face even when he asked, "Who?"

Polly chuckled, "Alessi Villin, of course."

"Hold the fuck up!" Arthur butted in. "That bastard Villin we've been having trouble with?! What the hell happened with 'Don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders'? What the hell is wrong with 'er?"

"Y/N was never a Peaky," Polly told him, glancing at Tommy just as those words left her mouth. "But you knew that already, didn't you Tommy?"

"I suspected," Your dad admitted. "Just not with-"

"Your fucking competition…" Ada finished for him, clicking her tongue in pure disbelief, "I say good for her. She'll be the one that managed to get away from this twisted family!"

"Yea and then go to another one that's just like fucking us! Maybe even fucking worse!"

Both Ada and Arthur were shouting at each other now. The two were accompanied by Lizzie who had her own comments to add too.

Polly and Tommy stared each other down, "That boy loves her Tommy," Pol said. "She's his whole world. I saw it with my own eyes. And she loves him too."

Thomas said nothing as his aunt left the stunned family alone in the Garrison pub, ending the Shelby meeting with a single sentence.

***

You stood in front of your father's office door after being summoned the moment you were spotted back in Birmingham. With calm hands you twiddled the ring on your finger as a soon-to-be married woman.

You had a fiancé.

And you had to tell your dad about it.

But given that you missed the meeting, and Polly – the only person that knew – was there to fill in for your absence, you were sure the word has spread. Especially when you spotted Finn acting out the moment he saw you get out of the car. That boy can't keep a secret to save his life.

"You wanted to see me, Dad?" You asked once he called you in.

"Yes," he said, gaze locked on the papers. "Sit down."

You rolled your eyes at the tone and took a seat, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"An expensive ring you have there," Your father pointed to your left hand with his pen. "Is that what you spend your money on?"

"Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I've decided that your engagement to Alessi Villin is a good thing."

Hope sparked at that moment, making you ignore the fact that he knew of the engagement before you even told him. "Really?"

"You have my blessing but should your engagement fail, there is going to be a war. But if you go through with this and marry him, our family and the Villin family will be united forever and this war will be over."

You hardly believed your ears. "Y-you…"

Your father said nothing. "I'm not marrying so you could do business in Liverpool!"

"The Mersey river is Alessi's territory," he tried to reason. "If you marry him than we can-"

"There is no 'we' anymore Dad!" You bellowed through sudden tears, surprising both Tommy and yourself with your voice's strength. "I'm getting bloody married! To the man that I love at last, and you're acting like we're signing a bloody contract!"

The river of words flew out your mouth, "Don't treat me like you treated John! My marriage isn't like his!"

"Now, if that's all," You stood up and fixed your skirt. "I'd like to leave. I have a wedding to plan."

You pressed your cigarette into his ash tray before turning on your heel and leaving your father for the first time in your life, to his own thoughts.

Tags (general (all posts)): @fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre @abimoon @sofiasamps @princxss-fia @thirstykpophoe

Tags (Peaky Blinders): @lovemissyhoneybee

Tags (Tommy Shelby): @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! My updated tag lists ♡

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby masterlist #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #Shelby family #Shelby family imagine #Reader x oc #Tommy Shelby daughter imagine #Tommy Shelby daughter one shot #Tommy Shelby x Daughter!reader #daughter!reader

392 notes · View notes