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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Days Like This

Summary: When your day goes from bad to terrible to worse, Bradley is there to help pick you back up.

Warnings: a lot of feels and a soft ending. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

The traffic on the highway getting home from where you worked was particularly disgusting for 2pm on a Tuesday.

The tint on the darkest pair of the many sunglasses you kept in your car wasn’t doing anything to help with the migraine that has started out at work as a whisper but had steadily built to a full roar. The California sun glaring down on you through your window wasn’t doing anything to help the pressure behind your eyes or the pain radiating throughout your head.

You wanted to be home.

The day started out nicely, perfectly even. Bradley’s lecture for the day had been pushed back, so he was still there in bed with you when you had woken up. And the two of you got to enjoy your coffee and breakfast together al fresco under the foliage of the tree that was built into your outdoor deck, soaking up each other and the morning sun before it got too hot.

All of Bradley’s bronze skin was on display in the sunlight as he had only been wearing a pair of sweatpants, his soft UVA t-shirt missing since it was on you instead. The neighbors were probably getting an eyeful, but the chances were high that they’ve already seen you both in much less.

His eyes had lit up and he had let out a low whistle when you came back down the stairs in the outfit you had worn for going into the office. It was just a formfitting navy pencil skirt and striped cotton button down, but that didn’t stop him from crowding you up against the white marble counter. His hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

“Bradley,” you sighed leaning back, letting his broad, warm body support you, “I can’t show up to work all wrinkled.”

You could feel the outline of him through his heathered gray sweatpants, and it worked for you.

Everything about him worked for you.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” he murmured in your ear. His hands sliding around to the exposed zipper in the back, fingers playing with the pull tab there, “Let’s take it off then.”

And you were tempted. So, so tempted as he teased his mustache along your neck.

“I’m going to be late,” you said, spinning to wrap your arms around his neck. The taste of coffee on his tongue was better than anything out of a mug.

“C’mon, kid,” he coaxed against your mouth, his voice pure seduction, “Let me give you a proper send off.”

His hands had found the top button of your blue and white striped shirt, slipping it out of its buttonhole to expose a couple more inches of your skin to his eyes.

You didn’t have any meetings until later in the morning, and his mouth was your favorite kind of distraction. Especially the way he was lazily working his way along your jawline.

“You always smell so good,” he hummed into your skin. Those sly and precise hands undid another button before sliding one under your shirt. His finger tracing along the line of the scalloped line of your bra.

And then you remembered just what exactly you were wearing under that button down and pencil skirt that was driving him so crazy. If Bradley were to discover what you had on, you would have definitely been late for work.

That was a surprise for him to find later.

He tugged on the collar of your button down to get another glimpse of you and at what secrets resided beneath your top.

“Bradley!” you laughed swatting at his hands you tried to pull away. Working quickly to rebutton the ones he had managed to get undone while you had been preoccupied with his mouth.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he winked at you, still running his hands along your body.

“No, of course not,” you tease, rolling your eyes in amusement, “However, I do reserve the right to blame you if I am late for work.”

“You could always just tell them you were late because you were doing your patriotic duty. Don’t they give you paid volunteer hours at that place?” he asked with a wicked smirk before letting you go with one final squeeze to your hips.

“I don’t think me volunteering for another round of patriotic sex on the kitchen island is what they meant when they gave us those paid community hours. Even if it is technically in service and support for the property of the US Navy.”

You leaned in for one more quick kiss, coping a quick feel of his ass as you darted out of his reach and towards the entryway before he could pull you back in again, “Please send my thanks to Uncle Sam.”

He chuckled, as he leaned against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles with his mug of coffee back in his hands, “Have a good day, kid.”

You gathered your things and were almost out the door when Bradley called out to you.

“Hey! You forgot something.”

You paused to check your bag, confused about what could have possibly been missing. Once your laptop, phone, wallet, and keys had all been accounted for you turned back towards him to see what had been overlooked in your haste to get out the door.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Oh, he was so gone for you.

You didn’t think you would ever get over how handsome Bradley was, especially when he was smiling at you with such warmth and affection.

“I love you too,” you grinned back at him, before sauntering out the door with a cheeky salute, “See you later, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then you hit every goddamn red light possible on your way into work.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

Things had gone from bad to worse in the few minutes it had taken you to walk through the main door of your building towards your office.

There hadn’t even been time to make a stop at the fancy espresso machine that was in the break room before your work nemesis, Grace, was charging at you in the hallway to rant about the derailed timelines for a project that you were both assigned to for one of the biggest clients on your company’s account roster.

It was clear as you looked over the spreadsheets she had printed out, still holding your heavy work tote on your shoulder, that there wouldn’t be any way to salvage the mess and that the deliverables wouldn't be ready in time for the client’s target deadline.

When she left in an angry huff marching towards the direction of your boss’ office, your stomach was aching from the twisted knots that had formed in your lower abdomen. The idea of the coffee you had been looking forward to was now the last thing on your mind, not that the caffeine would be good for your elevated levels of anxiety.

Both you and Grace were in the running for the same promotion, and you knew without a doubt that she was going to try and pin all the poor planning on you.

As if she wasn’t the one who’d essentially elbowed you out of the way for this portion of the project claiming that she had been further along in the planning process and that “it would be redundant and a waste time and resources for us to both work on this.”

She had dodged your attempts to collaborate, stonewalling you at every possible turn. You had been excluded from important meetings multiple times and had been asked to do duplicate work even though your own plate was already overloaded from all the slack you were picking up. You had found so many errors in what little information she had sent your way, that you were having to redo most everything as it came to you.

While you had been debating going to your boss to inform her of the ongoing issues, you had held off because even though you kept things professional at the office, it wasn’t a secret that the two of you weren’t exactly the best of friends. And you had been worried she might have brushed it off as interpersonal issues rather than Grace’s clear attempts to sabotage you.

So, you couldn’t say you were surprised when you were called into an emergency meeting with both your boss, Joanna, and the bane of your existence less than forty minutes later. And even less surprised when Grace pointed the finger at you in that condescending manner of hers that had gotten under your skin from the very first day you met her.

However, you had come prepared. You listened tolerantly as she listed off all the things that you’d allegedly done wrong before speaking up.

“To my understanding, all the things you just listed fell under the portion of the project that you claimed responsibility for,” you stated, trying to keep your voice from sounding tight and clipped.

What she didn’t realize as she tried to place the blame on you was that your receipts had receipts. And you proceeded to hand over the file folder of all the email correspondence you had saved and collected during the project to your manager.

“And am I allowed to know just what exactly that is?” Grace demanded.

“Of course, it’s simply our emails. So the content of that file won’t come as a surprise to you,” you replied as neutrally as possible.

You had highlighted all the important requests that were denied or ignored completely, the obvious errors, and the work that she had claimed credit for that was actually yours.

And the smoking gun, was a message you had received a notification about on Slack that was clearly posted to the wrong channel where Grace was all but admitting that she was purposefully giving you wrong information to work with. And while she had been quick to delete it, you had been quicker to get a screenshot of it.

You had conveniently placed that bit on the top of the pile to be the first thing your boss would see.

“I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner about this,” you said sincerely to your boss, “I had no clue things had spiraled out of control this bad until this morning. And after you review that file, I am sure you’ll see why.”

You tried to keep your fidgeting under control seated in the boucle chair as she skimmed over the first couple of pages, glancing between you and your work nemesis. The tension palpable and oppressive in the room.

Normally you loved being in Joanna’s office, it was tastefully chic with a white lacquer desk and a large Fiddle Fig tree in the corner. And your boss was always the type to indulge in a little pop culture talk, the two of you had had many a coffee break in there together, but at that moment you couldn’t wait to get back to your own office and away from Grace.

“The two of you are dismissed for now while I review this. In the meantime, I expect you both to work on finding what solutions we have at our disposal to get this back on track.”

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

The migraine came on steadily after that meeting. From the stress or the lack of sufficent caffeine you couldn’t say.

Your heart had been racing since you had left Joanna's office, and not in the fun way that Bradley was usually responsible for.

God, what had you been thinking to turn down more morning sex with Bradley Bradshaw? Even if it would have ruined the surprise you had planned, at least the additional post-orgasm endorphin high might have helped you get through the day better.

Maybe you definitely should have let him have his way that morning.

You were feeling on the brink of an anxiety attack an hour later when your boss called you back for a follow-up meeting.

Popping a couple CBD tablets and wiping your damp shaky hands on your sleek navy skirt, you saved the minimal amount of work you’d been able to get done while you had been spiraling before getting up to stop by the restroom before your one-on-one.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you disrobed enough to work the pretty yet impractical one piece you were wearing down your body when you realized the stress alone wasn’t the only reason for why your stomach had been hurting all morning.

For a moment you felt nothing. And then you felt everything.

No. No. No.

The tears prickled behind your eyes, and you had to bite your lip hard to keep from crying. Your day had already gone from bad to terrible to worse, and now this.

You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry.

No.

You wouldn’t let yourself cry.

You wouldn’t cry and Bradley wouldn’t get to see the surprise you had planned for him because the gusset of that more-expensive-than-it-should-have-been delicate and lovely sheer white French lace bodysuit you had secretly bought and slipped on this morning was stained a bright crimson red.

Steeling yourself against the swell of emotions that was threatening to drag you down, you perfunctorily folded up a wad of toilet paper and placed it in the center of the lining as you shimmed the formerly-stunning-but-now-ruined lingerie back up.

Just another thing that had gone wrong today. Just another problem to be dealt with later. Just one more thing that made you wish you’d never got out of bed this morning.

Tucking your shirt back in, you pushed everything out of your mind. You would not be the woman showing up to your boss’ office with streaky make up and puffy eyes.

After washing your hands and giving yourself a critical once over in the gold rimmed mirror and straightening your skirt just so, you had made your way to your over to Joanna’s corner office.

She didn’t keep you on tenterhooks for very long, letting you know that she had passed along the folder of information you had given her to HR and that Grace had been sent home for the day. While the clients were unhappy with the delays, she had managed to convince them of the merits of pushing back the project by a few weeks, giving your team the opportunity to clean up the mess.

For the time being, she would be taking over the project account until the internal investigation was completed by HR, but she anticipated being able to turn the reins back over to you alone very shortly. And then in the strictest confidentiality within the sanctity of her cozy yet aesthetic office, she had all but confirmed that the promotion you had been working so hard for was always going to be yours.

While she reassured you that she was on your side, you still couldn’t help feeling like you’d let her down. And then with a nod and an edict to not worry about anything, she also sent you home for the day too.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

You wanted to be on Bradley’s side of the bed.

The drive home felt like the longest fifty minutes of your life.

The traffic was always terrible, but today it was worse. You would never understand why Californians couldn’t figure out how to merge on the highway. It was supposed to be a zipper, not a game of chicken to see how close you could get to someone without actually hitting them.

And then seeing the man who was too old to be selling flowers on the cement divider in the middle of the road at one of the red lights you had been stuck at only added another bruise to your already battered heart.

Not even when you finally pulled up to the house you loved so much had helped to ease the pain of the day. You weren’t hit with the same rush of delight as you usually were when you arrived back to the home you shared with Bradley.

You didn’t know it was possible for such a fairytale home to exist in San Diego, but it did and it was yours.

The charming 1930’s white Tudor had a set of four diamond paneled windows in the front that were warm and welcoming. The large cement pavers up the slope of the lawn lead you to a black door that had an abundance of vintage character.

The house was situated picturesquely under a large Tipuana tree. Bradley was always complaining about the little yellow flowers when they littered the lawn, but you loved the cheerful floral confetti. Which is probably why he left them there for you waiting until they were withered and brown before blowing them into the street.

It had absolutely stolen your breath away the first time you saw it.

The two of you had been driving around in the Bronco one afternoon with Van Morrison playing on the radio just enjoying the afternoon sun after a week of rain. You had gasped when he drove by the house as the agent was attempting to put up the For Sale sign.

Other than the time at the seaside restaurant when you and Bradley had decided to go all in on each other, you had never been so struck with a feeling of such resolute surety. It was meant to be your house.

Your home with Bradley.

He must have felt it too because he’d barely gotten the Bronco in Park before he had leapt out of the car jogging up to the agent, the car still running and the keys in the ignition.

You’ll never know what he said to the woman as he helped her to get the post for the sign situated in the corner of the lot since you had been trying to actually turn the car off before getting unbuckled and out of the car yourself.

Maybe it had been his words. Maybe it had been the flight suit. Maybe it had been kismet. Whatever it was it worked, since she ended up giving you both an impromptu viewing of the home right then and there.

And 30 minutes after that you and Bradley were putting in an offer on the house, one that was accepted a couple days later.

Your movements were mechanical in the way you get out of your car and into your home. Not bothering to move your heels from where you kicked them off by the door or to pick up your work tote from where it had fallen over.

All you could focus on was moving from one task to the next, determined to not let yourself fall apart. Tossing your clothes in the laundry room as you made your way to your bedroom to close the blinds, finally giving your eyes the break from the light they had needed all day.

Bradley’s well-worn shirt was still where you had left it in the bathroom earlier from when you had changed after your perfect breakfast with him. Before your day had imploded.

Pulling it on over your head, letting Bradley’s scent wash over you, as you finally crawled into your bed with a ragged sigh.

You were home.

You were in your bed.

You were under your soft green comforter.

You were on Bradley’s side of the bed.

You wanted Bradley.

With that as your final thought on repeat like a lullaby of longing, you finally let yourself slide away.

Nothing could wipe the grin from Bradley’s face as he drove home with the California sun shining down on him.

He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the successful hop he had completed earlier in the day.

As part of the training for the newest batch of Top Gun students, he and Mav had been tasked with demonstrating some advanced technical maneuvers before participating in a dog fight exercise. Where he had successfully gotten a lock and pulled tone on his friend and mentor for the first time in a long while.

The glimpse of white lace he had caught earlier that morning in the kitchen when he had sneaked a peek down your oversized shirt had been on his mind all day. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, wondering whether or not his eyes had been playing tricks on him.

Either way he couldn’t wait to find out.

He had even already queued up all of your favorite dishes for the Chinese food delivery he was planning on ordering a little later in the evening. You were going to get his full attention tonight.

There was nothing he loved more than getting creative and putting that canopy bed to the test, and so far the overpriced-but-well-built bed hadn’t let him down.

He was going to enjoy his time taking you apart bit by bit.

Normally, he was the one to always beat you home, so he was surprised but elated to see your car parked in the drive way. He might need to order that food earlier than he expected, now that there was more time to work up an appetite and you both would need your sustenance for what he had planned.

Whistling to himself as he got out of the Bronco, he unzipped his flight suit and tugged it down tying the arms around his waist, he knew what you liked. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t the star in all your fantasies.

The door was already unlocked, which wasn’t like you. He imagined you probably forgot to lock it in a haste to get inside to grab a cold glass of rosé before catching up on some reality tv on the couch.

He hoped you weren’t watching the newest episode of Below Deck without him. He wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, but you had gotten him hooked on the show. Captain Lee reminded him of one of the Commanders he’d had during flight school.

Walking in he was a little annoyed to find your shoes and bag littered on the floor of the entry. He likes to keep things tidy, while you like to keep things “lived in”. Bending down he undid his shoes and picked up your things. Putting your bag in the coat closet for you, out of sight out of mind. He knew you didn’t like to bring work home with you if you could avoid it.

Your heels were dangling from his fingers as he turned the corner, expecting to see you curled up on the oversized gray sectional, but you’re weren’t there.

Huh.

As he stands in the living room and listens. He can’t hear the sound of the tv from the bedroom either, the house is silent. Trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that was taking up residency in his chest, he made his way to the bedroom. The driving need to find you, to check in on you, was the only thing on his mind now.

He opens the door to your bedroom quietly. The room is darkened, but there are faint rays of sunlight making their way past the edges of the blackout blinds he had installed. And he feels instant relief when he sees you curled up on this side of the bed, head pressed against his pillow.

Being mindful of the edge of the rug, trying to not disturb you, he carefully approaches you kneeling in front of where you’re resting. Your face is still clearly holding the strain of the day, and your eyebrows were knitted together. He lightly brushes the hair away from your face, and even in sleep you seek his touch, head moving slightly to chase the feeling of his fingers.

The pressure in his chest lessening, seeing you safe and sound in your shared bed. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before he stands up putting your heels back in the walk-in closet, and makes his way to the bathroom.

He wanted to rinse the smell of sweat and jet fuel off before he laid in bed with you. Undoing his flight suit the rest of the way he kicks it off, and his eyes snag on the open box of tampons sitting on top of the bathroom counter.

He is quick to undress the rest of the way, and rushes through his usual post-work shower routine doing just the bare minimum. Just some soap and shampoo, he wouldn’t be waiting the five minutes that was recommended on the back of your conditioner bottle that he liked to use sometimes to keep his hair soft.

Once he is dried off enough to pull on the pair of sweatpants he had worn earlier that morning, he makes his way back to you. Lifting up the covers on your side of the bed to slide in behind you. Wrapping an arm around you as he pressed himself closer to you, and you sighed lightly at the contact.

He lets his eyes drift close as he holds you. He didn’t know exactly what kind of a day you had had, but all that mattered to him was that he would be there for you when you woke up.

You’re warm.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist and a solid chest pressed against your back.

And for the first time since you’d left the house this morning things didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had been when you were on your own.

“Bradley?” you whisper in the quiet of your bedroom.

You so desperately want him to be awake, you just want him right now.

Please be awake.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” he murmurs, and the relief that washes over you is strong and immediate.

You turn over, needing to be closer to him, wanting to lose yourself in his warmth and to never leave this bed again.

He opens his arms for you, smoothing out some of your sleep-matted hair behind your ear as you drape yourself over him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, your throat thick with emotion.

He’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly. A crease between his eyebrows as he searches your eyes, as he reads you in that way that no one else does. And you know he knows.

There’s no stopping the cry that erupts from deep in your chest. There’s no holding back the tears that have been prickling behind your eyelids all day.

His gentleness is the thing that ends up being your undoing.

Bradley just pulls you closer, tucking your head into the safe space in the nook of his neck, as you shake with the sobs that reverberate throughout your whole body. Quietly shushing you soothingly as he kisses the crown of your head.

And when he picks up your left hand and kisses the pair of rings that have a home there in an unspoken vow, it only makes you cry harder.

The Toi et Moi engagement ring had never left your ring finger since the day Bradley put it there. Carole’s round diamond nestled next to your mom’s oval shaped one were fixed together permanently in gold. It was only fitting that you carried both of them with you always, a reminder of how their friendship was the beginning of you and Bradley.

Your wedding band had been forged from the melted remains of that symbol of love between the man you never met and the woman who had loved you like a daughter, the people responsible for bringing the love of your life into the world.

Through the sounds of your weeping, Bradley’s quiet murmurs made it to your ears and his words wrapped themselves around your heart.

The delicate I’m sorrys, the soft I’m heres, the gentle I’ve got yous, the tender I love yous.

You heard every single one of them as he repeated them over and over again as you gave yourself up to the tidal wave of emotions that you had been fighting to suppress all day.

You and Bradley had been married for a little two years. You were perfectly happy with your life. Bradley was perfectly happy with your life. And that was all that mattered.

You didn’t feel that ticking clock that seemed to follow women over a certain age around like a dark cloud. Neither one of you was in a particular rush, more than happy to enjoy the process and to take full advantage of that large canopy bed in your bedroom.

There was time, you had time.

However, seeing that stain on the pretty-but-now-probably-ruined lacy lingerie had hit you harder than you ever could have expected.

You and Bradley had only been trying for a couple of months. And logically you knew better, knew that it might take some time to happen.

You knew better, yet your heart hadn’t been given the same message.

And with all of the work drama lately, you really should have thought about how the stress might have played a role when you were a few days late instead of letting yourself get ahead of yourself. You had already been planning on stopping by the convenience store after work to pick up a box of tests, and instead you had come home with a new box of tampons.

Before Bradley, you had never given much thought about being a mother or starting a family. But being with Bradley? Thinking about how he would be the best partner and best dad to a child that was half him and half you, there was nothing more that you wanted than that future.

You wanted it. Oh, you wanted it.

You can feel the burning trail of every hot tear that made its way down your face as Bradley rubbed small circles on your back with his large hand in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Crying over the work shit that you hated bringing home with you. Of how it felt to be so viciously thrown under the bus and then the relief of knowing your boss sided with you.

Crying over the elderly man selling flowers on the street corner you had seen on your way home and the sad hunch of his back.

Crying over the pretty lace bodysuit that was soaking in the sink of the laundry room that might not never be the same again. And the fact that Bradley never got to see you in it.

Crying over what wasn’t meant to be. At least not right now.

You cried over all of it. All at once. All while Bradley held you, cradled you, loved you.

In your home.

In your bed.

Under the soft green comforter.

On his side of the bed.

His chest ached at the sound of your sobs.

It was agony to feel so helpless as you cried into neck, as he felt your tears on his skin. He would have given anything to be able to take on your pain, it was a burden he would have willingly carried for you.

So he did what he could: he held you.

Held you as you wept. Held you when the sobs tapered into sniffles. Held you as your tears dried on his skin.

When he was sure you were done crying, he pulled back a bit so that he could see your face, to be able to look in your eyes. They were red and swollen, but you were still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Using his thumb, he carefully wipes under your eyes to remove the few teardrops that still cling to your lower lashes.

He leans in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering on yours as he breathes you in, before climbing out of the bed.

He didn’t want the shadows of the day to drown out your light any more than it already had.

“Come on, kid,” he says holding out both of his hands to help sit you up at the edge of the bed.

Walking to your shared closet, he sheds his sweatpants and pulls on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. He riffles through the dresser in there, the one he had bought for you a few years ago when he wanted you to move in with him, until he finds your softest dress. Stopping by the bathroom on his way back to you to grab a cool, damp washcloth.

You’re sitting there so despondently, your eyes still holding such sadness. He motions for you to lift your arms up, and he pulls his old UVA shirt up and off your body, replacing it with the dress he had fetched for you. Picking up the towel from where he had set it on the nightstand, he runs it softly over your face. Across your forehead, down the line of your nose, taking special care to be gentle around the delicate skin under your eyes.

When he’s done he tosses back onto the nightstand and crouches in front of you so that his eyes are level with yours. Reaching out he cradles your face tenderly between his hands and asks, “You with me?”

He takes the way you turn your head to place a kiss his palm as a yes.

“Good,” he whispers as he presses his lips against your cheek, “Let’s go.”

Threading his fingers though yours, he leads you out of the darkened bedroom and into the golden light of the late afternoon sun that was flooding into your living room through the diamond paneled windows. He makes a stop in the kitchen to grab you a cold water bottle from the fridge, passing it to you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

He helps you with your shoes before sliding his own on, and grabs his wallet and keys. At the Bronco he is the one to help you up and that buckles you in. Rummaging through his glove box to find your sunglasses, he slips the on your face for you before putting on his own. And then with an arm tucked behind your sea, he backs out of the driveway.

There is only a glimmer of an idea in his brain, all he really knew is that he couldn’t stand to see you looking so heartbroken for a second longer.

He is attempting to make a left hand turn when he hears you say, “Bradley, please not this way.”

Unfortunately, he heard your request too late. He was stopped at the light with the traffic lining up next to him and behind him. He turned to ask why you didn’t want to go this way, but you were looking intensively out your window and purposefully away from his direction.

He is confused for a moment and then he is hit with a stroke of brilliance when he sees an elderly man on the set up on the concrete divider surrounded by various buckets of flowers.

He hears you call his name as he jumps out of the car to approach the vendor, he is a man on a mission.

In the vows he spoke when he made you his wife, he promised to be the one person in this world you could count on to make you happy, to be the one person who would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

And that’s what he intended to do.

The hunched over man cheerfully accepted all the bills that he had in his leather wallet in exchange for what was left of his stock. And Bradley was happy that this meant the man could go home for the day and that you would have all the flowers he could get his hands on. It seemed like a more than fair trade to him.

He waved off the older man’s offer to help pile them all in the back of the Bronco, grabbing as many of the cellophane clusters as he could before making his way back to you.

“Bradley!” you laugh almost disbelievingly as he approaches, you’re wearing the first smile he has seen from you since you left the house this morning, and it makes his heart soar. “We’re going to cause a riot here.”

The light is green now and the cars behind him are clearly irritated, but he still another armload to go get, “Let them honk, sweet girl. We’ve got all the time we need.”

Once he has the rest of your flowers loaded in the back, he makes his way to your favorite taco stand. And then your favorite burger place, followed by the place two blocks away with your favorite fries.

And of course, he stops at the milkshake place, ordering a chocolate cherry chip shake for you and a peanut butter one from himself before driving towards the sunset and the beach.

You almost feel like crying again when Bradley parks in the lot at the public beach he has taken you to, but this time you know they’d be happy tears.

“Think we can manage all of this in one go?” he muses jokingly gesturing to the various take out bags that were piled in between your feet.

“I’d bet money on us,” you smile back at him.

“I would too, sweet girl,” he leans in to kiss you before he moves to get out of the Bronco. He rounds the car and opens the door to help you down.

He grabs the Pendleton blanket he keeps under the seat and tucks it under his arm. Then hands you the milkshakes and grabs the rest of the bags before nodding his head towards the beach.

“You know I can carry some of that too, right?” you tease pointing to his overloaded arms.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, but let me take care of this. I’ve got it,” he assures you, although you know he means more than just the bags, “Plus those are our most valuable pieces of cargo, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my milkshake.”

His affectionate grin was the only balm your heart would ever need.

The two of you only make it a few steps towards the beach before he tells you he forgot something as he doubles back to the car.

Wondering what could have been left behind, you watch him as he sets down the takeout bags down to reach into the back of the Bronco pulling out one of the many brightly colored wrapped bouquets resting in the back. He tucks that under his other arm before gathering the rest of the items for your impromptu beach picnic again and jogs back towards you.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

While you’re enjoying the spectacular show the sun is putting on for you as it starts to set as you stroll along the shore with Bradley, you realize that you’re feeling much lighter than before. That the inescapable heaviness that had settled on you over the course of the day no longer felt like it was resting entirely on your shoulders anymore.

And you know without a doubt that it has everything to do with your husband.

The two of you find the perfect spot in the sand, a little pocket of peace away from the noise of the boardwalk, he stands there for a second with an adorably concerned expression when he realizes the issue that he has created for himself by carrying all the items for your picnic in his capable but overloaded arms. And you laugh as you adjust the milkshakes in your hands to help offload the various bags in his hands so that he can lay out the blanket.

He smooths out the sand some before he opens up the blue geometric blanket. Once it is spread out to his liking, he takes the bags from you putting them in the corner, your only responsibility now to safeguard the milkshakes.

He seats himself down on the woven blanket, patting the space in front of him for you to come join him there. And once you are nestled between his propped legs, he pulls you back to rest against his chest.

You are surrounded by all of your favorite things: your husband, the best of San Diego’s drive-thru culinary offerings, the ocean, and the flowers you didn’t know you needed until Bradley got them for you.

And in that moment, you finally feel at peace as you and Bradley dig in to your picnic as you watch the sun inch closer down to the horizon.

You still had the rest of the week to get though. You knew there would be a mountain of work for you to deal with when you went back into the office tomorrow, that man with the flowers would probably be back in his same location tomorrow his buckets full of new bouquets to sell, and you would still be waiting and hoping for your maybe someday soon.

But you could face anything since you had Bradley by your side.

The food might be cold, the fries a little soggy, and the milkshakes were half melted now, but everything about it is perfect.

You let him support you in more ways than one as you settled more fully against him after you were both done eating. It was easier now to talk to him about your day, about the things he knew about and the things he didn’t as you watched the waves roll in and out along the shore as the tide came in.

You felt him tense up when you told him about your disaster of a day at the office. You felt him squeeze you in celebration when you told you about your unofficially official promotion. You felt him as he kissed your cheek when you told him about the equally ruined surprise and lingerie.

The other part you didn’t need to speak the words for, he knew your heart.

You would always have Bradley, and he would always have you.

That’s how it had always been back when you were kids forming the foundation of your friendship, and that’s how it was now as adults navigating the hardships and joys of this life you were building together.

A life where there was always someone there you could count on to pick you back up when you needed them the most.

He kisses your shoulder and rests his chin there as he takes in the view, gently rocking you side to side.

“I love you,” you murmur softly, resting your head against his, “Thank you.”

You know he hears what you are really saying.

Thank you for treating me the best. Thank you for knowing me the best. Thank you for loving me the best.

“It’s going to be ok, sweet girl” he promises against your mouth.

And you believe him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you need a virtual hug my inbox is always open!

This is a one-shot for my 'Like I Can' series.

Here’s a little moodboard for this fic too!

You can check out my other stories here!

Tag List:

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#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x female reader #rooster x you

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hanlimz · 10 months

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[midnight thoughts: sunghoon + heart eyes]

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader genre/warnings: fluff ! very cute very suitable 4 all audiences ! / not proofread, povs might be a bit confusing?? it's written in 2nd person/3rd person omniscient but also in hoon's pov kinda?? idk ,, i hope that's able to be understood lolol <///3, also LOVESICK HOON <////3 wc: 0.8k (i could've written more but i liked where this ended) a/n: this goes out to all my hoon stans (ESP my hoon biased moots bc ik there's a lot of u MWAH ILY PLS ENJOY this is my apology for never interacting) / i feel like this is a bit different from my normal writing style so i hope this little ramble-y mess suffices !! <3

park sunghoon is sharp; the slope of his nose is precise and pointed, his skin is even and supple while still resembling a cool block of ice, and the fiery soul of a phoenix reborn from its ashes is hidden away behind his frigid gaze. but, when he's with you—an uncharacteristic spell of heat courses through his veins; the blood under his cheeks seems to boil as they turn an embarrassing shade of vermillion, and the mystic bird is freed as you unlock the cage he has built around his heart. the way you hold him in your hands is gentle, the way you touch him is kind, and the way you kiss him makes him weak.

when he's with you, park sunghoon allows himself the chance to be soft. he melts like the chocolate sandwiched between two cozy graham crackers; his brain turns to mush, his thoughts are blurred at the edges, and his bones feel a bit too much like jello. sunghoon doesn't bother to uphold his "cool guy" reputation when you're around because he knows you prefer the real him—the one that stumbles over his words after seeing you in his clothes, the one that can't make it through watching the titanic without bawling, the one who still tries to cook for you despite almost cutting his thumb off with a mandoline slicer.

a fool, but yours nonetheless.

however, in spite of all this pure adoration sunghoon harbors for you, he still can't manage to will those eight, little letters from his plush lips. they feel too small as they sit and marinate in his mouth; he turns them over with his tongue, running the muscle along each syllable and tasting the overly saccharine residue they leave behind. they're not enough, he thinks, they never will be.

so, until he finds the right words, sunghoon settles for quiet moments like these. a wall of storms is rolling in from the coast; through the open window in the dorm's living room, the refreshing scent of impending rain spreads throughout the space. soft bouts of rumbling thunder become white noise that is almost enough to lull him to sleep, and the weight of your head in his lap evokes a certain peace that settles over every inch of his body. as sunghoon runs his fingers through your hair, he giggles to himself each time you snore on the inhale. there's a patch of drool seeping into the fabric of his joggers, but he can't bring himself to care; to sunghoon, you are perfect—in every sense of the word.

in the darkness, sunghoon's phone illuminates your napping figure; squinting, he sees that the boys have messaged the group chat, but truthfully, sunghoon is far more concerned that the vibrations might startle you out of your slumber. glancing down at you once more, he picks up the device to take a quick look at the messages.

[jake] twenty dollars that hoon's ogling y/n when we get back

[heeseung] do u even have to bet?

[jay] yeah i feel like it's kind of a given at this point

[sunoo] i just hope they're not on the couch .. i'm trying to cast the barbie movie to the tv ://

[jungwon] good luck......where Else would they be??

[niki] as long as they're not sucking face idc.....

[me] ok gross ... we r not Sucking Face u Child y/n's asleep on the couch, so don't be too loud when u get back

[jake] BOOOOO GET A ROOM !!!!!

[sunoo] UGHHH why can't u guys be a cute couple somewhere ELSE??

[heeseung] hoon's too in love ... Obviously

[me] stay jealous losers <3

with a small flick of his thumb, sunghoon switches his phone to do not disturb and places it face down on the arm of the sofa. as he gazes down at you, his eyes are filled with an immeasurable amount of appreciation and fondness and gratitude. he finds solace in the sight of the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest; your deep breaths are a melodious sonata accompanied only by the sound of rain pattering against the living room window. sunghoon feels his heart pounding in his chest, and he thinks it's a bit silly just how much of an effect you manage to have on him. he sits with his thoughts, staring at the wall before him; sunghoon ponders heeseung's text, and comes to the conclusion that the elder boy is right.

sunghoon is in love—with you, to be specific.

however, he decides that he's the perfect amount of in love with you.

slowly, the calloused pads of sunghoon's fingers graze over the planes of your face, traveling down to the exposed skin of your shoulder. gently, he traces countless, miscellaneous shapes into your flesh, hoping you can feel each and every one of the triangles and diamonds and hearts in your dreams. tenderly, he tugs the blanket that had slipped down to the taper of your waist back up to your clasped hands. quietly, sunghoon prays to the gods and asks for the courage to voice his emotions, despite knowing that there is no rush—there never is. not with you.

and after a moment, softly, sunghoon tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and murmurs, "i love you. more than you'll ever know, i love you."

#; — cass writes: hoon #enhanet #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon reactions #enhypen #enha fluff #enha headcanons #enha imagines #enha reactions #sunghoon imagines #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

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delaber · 2 years

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The Massage (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Despite the ache in his thigh, Bucky has been avoiding the new massage therapist for quite some time now.

Note: Okay, so due to an unnecessarily hot gif (and I mean unnecessarily hot), the original post with this story was unfortunately put in tumblr jail last night. This is a repost of that story. Please help me by spreading this fic even if you've already reblogged the original. I'd appreciate it immensely ❤️

Warnings: Smut, smut, and purely smut - with a plot! Pining, teasing, edging, Bucky is highly stimulated from his massage. Slight age kink and with a fluffy ending.

Words: 6.1K

For five months, Bucky has avoided coming here like the plague. He has made up excuses, hid in his bedroom, tried ordering all sorts of remedies online, and has even resorted to massaging the aching thigh himself, but of course Sam - the rat - had eventually had enough of his moaning and complaining, and had told on Bucky first chance he got.

Bucky knows that his annoyance towards Sam is uncalled for - that his thigh has become a nuisance, a reliability that is keeping him from performing as well in the field as he used to, but even though he has long since realised that the strain in the muscle will feel a lot better after just a few rounds of professional massage, he's still been praying every night for it to go away on its own just to avoid finding himself in exactly the situation he's in now: visiting the in-house massage therapist who also happens to have his heart beating a little faster every time she smiles at him. You.

He knows there's no way out, that he eventually has to knock on the door in front of him and step inside your office, but his heart is racing like crazy in his chest and the jump from the window right next to him might not result in a particularly comfortable landing but it will definitely be more comfortable than the hell he surely will release upon himself when he feels your touch. It's a professional setting and the things he wants to do to you are fucking far from professional! He shouldn't even be having these thoughts; you're friends - colleagues even - and he's so much older than you. It's... creepy.

"It's just an hour, it's just an hour," he closes his eyes and breathes hard, hopes it's enough to calm himself down and forget about all the wonderful self-relief sessions he's had with you painted on the back of his eyelids. "- you can behave yourself for one hour..." he sighs and reluctantly releases the tense muscles of his right arm so the closed fist falls forwards and hits the door in front of him with a bang much louder than intended.

For a second, everything goes quiet.

He hopes it's because you have forgotten all about the appointment Sam fixed between you a few days prior, but then he hears shuffling on the other side of the wall, and it doesn't take long before the door with your name written on it swings open and reveals your bright smile that immediately warms up his abdomen.

"Bucky!" you exclaim happily and make room for him in the doorway, "come on in!"

"Thanks..." he mumbles more grumpily than intended and steps inside the dimly lit room that smells like flowers, warm citrus and that massage oil that has made your fingers more softer-looking than anything he's ever set his eyes on before. It's a setup for failure.

"I'm so happy you're here! I was wondering when you'd finally stop by," you chirp happily from behind him and even though he can hear the question in your voice, he's not about to answer why he hasn't sought your help sooner. "Sam tells me you pulled a muscle in your groin a couple of months back."

"Yeah," he clears his throat and avoids looking you directly in the eye, "it's no big deal, it'll heal..."

"I kinda figured you'd say something like that," you happily tilt your head to the side and search his face, "why don't you strip down to your underwear and I'll take a look at what I can do to help you."

Oh doll, you can do so much to help me! He clears his throat and bites back the unwelcome thought as he quickly pulls off his shirt and jeans.

"Okay, so tell me," you smile at him when he sits down on the massage bed and spreads his legs out to the sides so you have easier access to the affected area. "- exactly where is the pain located?"

Ready to get this whole ordeal done and over with, he quickly points to the area on his inner thigh that feels as if someone's plunging a knife deep into the tissue every time he takes a step forwards. "Right here - but it's really not a big deal. You don't have to do this."

"It's my job," you chuckle sweetly before you direct your gaze down to the area surrounding his groin.

Immediately, Bucky can feel his face grow hot as your beautiful eyes visually inspect the skin right below the hem of his boxer shorts, and he has to keep himself from instinctively closing his legs shut in silent embarrassment.

"Hmm, you do look a bit tense..." you scrunch up your nose in concentration and the warmth in his stomach deepens. You're way too cute for your own good. " - I think I'd like to start off by loosing up the muscles around your hipbone. Could you turn around and lie down on your stomach please?" you ask and look up into his eyes with a cute little gaze. He's never had you this up close before and it's definitely doing something bad to him.

"Yep," he croaks and immediately turns around so his burning face meets the hole in the mattress below him.

He can hear you squeeze out a gentle amount of massage oil from a tube next to the bed and you heat it up by rubbing it between your hands while he with closed fists and hypervigilant senses braces himself for the inevitable touch.

"Alright, Barnes. I'm gonna start touching you gently now," you say in a soft, professional tone and he cannot help but squeeze his eyes shut. "- don't worry, it'll feel good."

"Yeah," he clears his throat and desperately focuses on his jumping nerves to try and get them under control. Your words of comfort are not exactly reassuring when 'feeling good' is exactly what he's worried about...

"Here we go," you conclude in a quiet sing-song voice right before you gently put your hands on his upper thigh and start running your fingers over the tight bundle of painful muscles. It hurts at first but after just a few seconds of your fingers on his skin, he can feel the tightness slowly disappearing.

Professionally, you massage the aching tissue deeper and deeper, and Bucky feels how his jaw slowly eases up in time with the tension of his thigh. Your fingers are dancing over his lower half, squeezing the tight muscles and caressing his skin, and it doesn't take long before your warm fingers and the citrus in the air send his protective parades crumbling. Suddenly, his thigh doesn't really hurt anymore and he's so relaxed that he let's go of the tension in his shoulders too and his eyes automatically close shut without warning. A slow song is playing soothingly from somewhere in the room and while your fingers are working magic on his tissue, he feels himself disappear into it.

Your hands are slowly moving from the middle of his leg to the area right underneath the hem of his boxers, and your oily fingers suddenly slip down to his inner thigh where they warmly start kneading the skin.

You move his leg a little out to the side and briefly press in on a point near his crotch that has him soaring! Sweetheart, it feels so good, he almost groans and melts into the mattress when he suddenly feels a stray finger touch an even more sensitive area on his already burning skin. Ah fuck! He has to stop himself from whimpering as your warm palms soothe his sore muscles while the soft pad from your stray finger gently rubs and touches the sensitive spot on his gracilis muscle right where it attaches to the back of his pelvis. Shit, he feels amazing! He just wants your soft, oily hands to stay on him forever! Just wants them to rub and tug and slip further and further down between his thighs until they eventually slip inside his boxers and feel the warm, pulsing area where he really wants your touch! And if he's lucky, you might just ask him to flip around onto his back so you can climb on top of him in your cute little uniform and pull back the skin at the tip of his cock with your hands. Or your mouth. Or your glistening, tight, wet pussy. Fuck!

He hisses.

Involuntarily, and because he's so relaxed, he's accidentally managed to excite himself a little too much and now there's nothing he can do to stop it! He wants to - but oh God he can't! So when he feels the blood rush from his stomach and down to the only region he does not want it right now, he can only lie there and panic in silence.

He feels himself grow hard in time with his blurring vision and he wants to tell you to stop your motions, to let go of him and leave the room pronto, but how the hell is he supposed to do that without giving himself and his treacherous dick away? You can never know the effect you have on him! You're so sweet, and so young and innocent, and he's almost fucking forty! Fuck, he's sweating like crazy!

Blissfully unaware of the inner battle going on inside Bucky's head, you keep massaging his thigh heavenly, and even though he tries so hard to think of something else - anything else! - he can only think of the soft touch you're providing... Your hands are so warm and so oily and he's growing harder and harder by the second while your innocent fingers dance only mere inches away from his not so innocent erection.

Fuck, fuck, fuck what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

"Barnes, are you okay?" You ask him gently and slow down your movements so your hands almost come to a halt when you feel him tensing up, "- do you want me to ease up a little?"

"No, no, it's fine," he breathes and feels a fresh surge of blood streaming down to his crotch when your fingers stroke his thigh affectionately to get him to relax. As long as he stays on his front, it shouldn't be an issue. He has time to make the raging boner go away before you ask him to turn around.

"Okay, good. Let me know if you need a break," you hum and touch him gently while he thinks of baseball, of cold cups of coffee and stale crackers, of Sam's oldie slippers and the stain on the floor below him - anything to try and control the relentless erection that is pulsing and screaming and begging to be touched!

But no matter how hard he tries, his erection won't calm down. Not when you're touching him so sweetly.

"Alright Barnes," you say after a few of his panicked minutes and slowly take a step backwards. "Could you turn around for me please?"

Fuck...

He opens his eyes and fixates his gaze on the stain below him as his face heats up. "T-turn around?" he gulps and feels how his entire body suddenly seems to be impatiently pulsing along with the prominent erection.

"Yeah, I'd like to take a look at your groin now that we've loosened your muscles up a bit."

Jesus fucking Christ, he's sweating balls! How's he ever going to recover from this?

"You know what? It already feels better thanks!" he tries and hopes he sounds convincing and not too panicked.

"Yes, well you've been lying down for twenty minutes," you chuckle, "- it'll come back as soon as you start moving, trust me."

"I can always come back tomorrow if it acts up again."

"We both know you won't..."

"No, I promise. It already feels so much better!"

"Barnes, what's wrong?"

Fuck, there's truly no way out...

"Sweetheart," he clenches his eyes shut and prepares himself for your terrible reaction to what he's about to confess, "I have a bit of a - uh - a... problem..."

"A problem? What kind of problem?" you sound concerned, and if it hadn't been for the horrible situation he's in, his chest would've probably swelled with pride that you care for him.

"It's a - uhm, shit - it's a... guy's problem."

"Oh?" You become quiet for half a second and he can practically hear how the gears in your head turn until the penny suddenly drops. "Oh!" you let go of him as if you've been scorched by fire and he suddenly feels so much worse. Poor woman.

"Yep," his voice is thick and awkward, and he wishes he had jumped out the window when he still had the chance. Now he's gonna scare you away for good and it's all Sam's fault!

"Hey - hey, it's okay," you reassure him softly and put a hand down between his shoulder blades when his entire body goes rigid with shame. "Barnes, it's a perfectly normal reaction to a massage in that area! Please don't feel embarrassed about it - you're not the first client in here who's been experiencing a problem. Sometimes it just happens."

He feels a weird pang of jealousy when he thinks about how your sweet, innocent hands have made some of his male friends at the compound as raging horny as he is right now. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that it doesn't have anything to do with the massage itself and everything to do with the person who's giving it.

"Come on, just turn around for me, okay? I won't hold it against you. I know it's nothing personal."

But it is, he thinks to himself before he with a tight-lipped smile and clenched jaw turns around on the massage table. He knows you well enough to know that you won't let him go before you've looked at his thigh.

He gulps when he sees how tightly his boxers are draped over his hips and the massive erection is standing like a fucking pole vaulter in the air between you. "Jesus fuck, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," you smile professionally while looking anywhere than directly at his embarrassing vulnerability. "Maybe it's better if you sit?"

"Yeah, yeah maybe," he sighs in defeat and swings his legs over the side of the mattress as he pathetically tries to readjust himself so the erection tucked inside his grey boxers does not look as prominent as it did while lying down.

"You good?" you ask when he stops shuffling and he quickly nods in return. "Good - you wanna continue?"

Not really. "Yeah, whatever."

"Alright," you step over to him and professionally fix your gaze on his thigh, "could you spread your legs apart a little?"

"Sure," he does as he's told while clearing his throat, pretty sure that his entire face is currently a mixture between plum- and beet-coloured.

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" you smile reassuringly and slowly reach your hands forwards.

"Mm-hmm," he clenches his jaw shut to avoid involuntary sounds when your small fingers finally touch his thigh again and you quickly resume your massage with a professional expression slapped across your face.

Carefully, you move the hem of his boxers a little upwards and squeeze out a gentle amount of massage oil into the palm of your hand before you make the mistake of looking him deep in the eye as your fingers find his skin again. The look you're sending him is giving him goosebumps and you gulp and briefly look away when he involuntarily hisses at the touch.

"Barnes, you - uh - you want a towel or something?" You ask and he can practically hear the discomfort in your voice.

More embarrassed than he's ever been, he looks down at himself and notices how the entire front of his boxers is now soaked in pre-cum. "Oh god!" He instinctively pulls his hand over to cover up the huge wet stain and feels how his ears grow impossibly warm. "Fuck, I am so, so sorry."

"It's okay," you hand him a small white towel to cover himself with.

"God, I'm so fucking embarrassed," he drops the cloth down into his groin and wishes he could disappear down into the mattress instead of facing this absolute hellish nightmare! "You must think I'm such a creep..."

"No it's alright," you smile sheepishly and start working on his thigh again, clearly feigning a professional attitude.

He sighs. He cannot believe he's doing this to you.

"Barnes don't worry, okay? I know you're a nice guy."

"Still..." he clenches his eyes shut as your small fingers find one of the sensitive spots on his inner thigh underneath the hem of his boxers and has to lock his jaw to avoid giving out a groan.

He can hear how you chuckle lightly from behind the stars that are blinking on the back of his eyelids.

"I'm glad you're amused."

"Sorry, sorry," you snigger softly, "I've just never seen you this discomposed before. I'll be quick so we can get you back to your room to take care of it," you joke to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, thanks," he gulps and feels how yet another drop of precum leaves his leaking head when you press in on the spot again. He's so turned on he can feel his nostrils dilating, his thighs shaking, and he just wants to fucking reach inside his underwear and fuck his fist until he comes! God, this is so much worse than anything he could've ever imagined! He's going to kill Sam for this!

"Wow, you're really having a hard time," you smile a little to yourself as you steal a glance up at his pained expression.

"Give me a break, sweetheart," he groans with eyes snapped shut in embarrassment, "Your lubed-up hands are basically on my crotch and let's be honest," he gulps and slowly opens his eyes again, "- you're not exactly displeasing to look at."

Your eyes widen slightly at his confession before a proud smile tugs the corners of your mouth upwards. "What Barnes?" you chuckle proudly to yourself, "- you like the way I look?"

"Come on, don't pretend you don't notice half the guys here staring at you."

"Okay you got me there," you laugh sweetly and direct your attention back to your steady working hands, "I have noticed a few stray glances here and there - I just haven't noticed any from you, so yeah, I'm a bit surprised."

"Well, you can take this as confirmation that I like looking at you too," he awkwardly points to the throbbing erection between you. He figures it's better to discuss the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it. Maybe you can have a laugh about it later...

God, he hopes so.

"Hey, come on," you tilt your head to the side when you see his pained expression, "stop beating yourself up. It's a relaxed atmosphere in here and with the aromas and the music, I understand that some guys let go. It's completely normal."

"No, sweetheart, it's not," he sighs. "I don't know. At least not for me."

"It's not?" You chuckle while still working on his thigh.

"This has never happened before, I swear."

"So the fear of getting an accidental erection isn't the reason why you've avoided coming here?"

"No, sweetheart," he sighs and adjusts himself on the mattress, "it's not."

"So -" you bite your lower lip and fix your gaze on an undefined spot on his thigh to avoid his eye. "- if I understand you correctly; what you're basically saying is that you're hard because of, well, me?"

"Yep," he sucks in a breath of air when he feels your movements still and he braces himself for the angry rejection before he looks over at you. You're staring at him wide-eyed and doe-like with your mouth hanging a little open, not sure how to respond to his confession.

"I'm sorry," he croaks, "you must think I'm a total asshole..."

"No, no, no, not at all..." you shake your head and clear your throat while sending him a nervous glance. "I think you're quite cute, actually..."

His mind goes completely blank. He's been called many things in his life, but never that.

"...cute?"

"Yeah," you nod quietly. "I - uhm - I guess I've been having this teensy tiny crush on you so - uhm - yeah," you smile, all flustered, "- you know."

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah," you scrunch up your nose and lick your lips. "I mean... look at you," you gesture to nothing in particular, and he can feel his chest go all warm with pride as you look him over.

"So you're not freaked out?"

"No, no not at all," you admit with a shake of your head. "You've been driving me up the wall for ages, you know."

"I - I have?"

"Yeah..." you nod, "I've actually been hoping you'd stop by here so I'd have an excuse to, you know, touch you," you admit and now it's your turn to look embarrassed. "It's wildly unprofessional, I know."

"No, no you're good. You're being very professional about... this," he nods while pointing to his crotch. "I swear, if I wasn't so insanely attracted to you, I wouldn't be so... bothered."

"Yeah, you do look a bit flushed," you give him a crooked smile.

"I know..."

"So..." you bite your lower lip again and move in close enough for him to hear your heartbeat, to suddenly smell that you're aroused too and it's driving him absolutely insane! "...I have a crush on you," you stroke his thigh affectionately, "- and you have a crush on me."

He nods and scoots a little closer to you, careful not to scare your hand away from its close proximity to his crotch. "What are we gonna do about that?" he pants and puts a hand to your face, stroking your cheek and hoping to dear God that you'll let him kiss you.

"I don't know," you whisper and lean in close, stopping with your lips mere inches from his and with huge doe eyes staring straight at him.

"My god," he groans and runs his thumb over your cheek again, "you are beautiful," he whispers and slowly moves his face until his lips finally come into contact with yours.

The kiss starts off slowly. Bucky is careful not to pressure you into anything and simply just concentrates on the feeling of your impossibly soft lips on top of his. It's pillowy and wet, sensual and sexy and he's strung along, never wanting to let go of you.

"Peach," he whispers when your mouth strays away from his and starts moving down his jaw and throat. "Peach, you don't have to do this. Please don't feel pressured into anything just because I'm excited okay?"

"I'm excited too," you whisper and carefully place your hand on the tight bulge at the apex of his thighs so a bolt of lightening shocks through him. "- my excitement is just not as visible as yours," you place a wet kiss on top of his jugular. "You don't have to go back to your room to take care of this, you know," you bite back a smile as you stroke over his tight balls so his Adam's apple bounces uncomfortably in his throat.

"Sweetheart," he pants, not sure if this is really happening or if the sudden rush of blood to his crotch has him imagining things.

"I can help you..." you say quietly and move your palm over him so he gives out an involuntary groan.

"Doll," he sucks in some air and stutters his hips upwards, silently begging for more.

You understand his cue, and you lean in close so you can lick the shell of his ear as your fingers find their way underneath his waistband. As soon as your oily fingers come into contact with his burning skin, he can no longer hold back the moan that's been sitting on the edge of his throat for a good half hour now and he once again stutters his hips upwards when you close your fist around him and start stroking him slowly.

"Sweetheart," he groans against your skin and you give out a noticeable shudder when his hands snake under your shirt so he can caress the soft skin of your stomach. "Oh my God!" he whines and runs his nails over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You like this?" you whisper and tug his earlobe between your teeth.

"Fuck yes! I've been thinking about touching you since the first time I saw you."

"Yeah?" You pant against him and reach down to cup his balls with one hand while the other continuously strokes up and down his veiny shaft. "Been thinking of me all wet and naked for you?"

"Fuck," he whimpers and finds your pebbled nipples underneath your shirt and roll them between his fingers. "Yes."

"What have you been thinking about?"

"Your mouth," he breathes and pinches your nipples between his fingertips, "your slutty little mouth. All wet and tight for me."

"My mouth?" you giggle against him and gently bite down on his earlobe so he gasps loudly, "want me to make your little fantasy come true?"

"Oh god, yes doll! Please," he whimpers and you immediately drop to the floor between his open thighs, sitting on your knees and strutting your ass as you grab him by the root, rubbing his cock over your cheek and lips as he whines above you.

"Is this what you wanted?" you send him a wide-eyed look while your pink tongue finally pushes past your plump lips and lick the underside of his almost purple head.

"Fuck! Yes, yes doll! Please suck me" He hisses and feels his toes buzz when your tongue slowly runs over the slit at the tip, "ah baby!" he groans and watches how you flatten your tongue and wetly licks him all over his leaking head. "Please put me in your mouth, please!"

"I like you begging," you pant and lick him from root to tip, ending the long lap by closing your lips fully around him.

"Oh god, oh fuck," he shoots his head backwards, never looking away from the angel between his legs. Spit and precum is running down the side of his shaft and he swears, he's never felt this amazing before. He's about to explode just looking at you!

"Mmh," you hum around him, sending beautiful vibrations through his cock and all the way down to his balls.

"Look at you," he groans sinfully and notices how you clench your thighs together when he reaches forwards and strokes your cheek, "such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Are you getting all wet as you suck my cock?"

"Mmh," you nod with a muffled confirmation as your plump lips slide from base to tip and back down again.

"Ah - shit doll," he hisses while completely giving himself into you as he grabs your chin and strokes you affectionately.

"Mmh, Bucky," you whisper his name so sweetly and move your face so you can lap at his balls.

He throws his head backwards as your tongue stroke over the tight skin while your hand pumps him slowly. "Jesus fuck sweetheart," he moans and puts a finger under your chin forcing you to look back up at him. "Get up here. Now!"

Excitedly, you give him a hard suck before your let go of him with a soft pop and obediently oblige his command by climbing up on the mattress next to him.

"Mmh, look at what you're doing to me," he chuckles and leans in close so he can finally taste your lips again. Immediately, your tongue is inside his mouth and it's so wet and so warm that he grows even harder even though he didn't think it possible.

His hand snakes under your shirt again and you give out a small whine when he pulls it over your head.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he pushes your breasts out of your bra and starts toying with your nipples. "It's crazy," he mumbles as he lies you down on the mattress and sucks your perky nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around the bud.

Immediately, you arch your back and give out a sinful moan that reverberates through the dimly lit room and vibrates around his tighter than ever balls.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers against your skin and moves to the other nipple while his hand finds your panties underneath your white skirt. "God, you're already so wet for me," he whimpers and pushes his fingers underneath the hem of the soaked fabric so he can touch your warm skin.

"All for you," you arch your back and moan when he pushes two fingers inside of you, moving them rhythmically so they squelch and squeeze around your g-spot. You whimper and close your eyes, enjoying the sensations he's sending through your body, the tingle of warm flames that lick at the bottom of your spine.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he repeats and licks your neck, "You deserve it."

"I want you inside of me," you moan and tug at his hair, the sensation deliciously toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispers and drags his teeth over your collarbone while his fingers pulsate inside of you.

"Yes!" You whine and pull at his hair again as a particularly loud moan escapes you.

"Oh sweetheart," he groans when his fingers slide out of you to the tune of a disappointed little whimper falling from your open mouth. "Don't worry, I'll fill you up," he kisses your collarbone and looks down between your sweating bodies as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself half inside, giving himself a second to get used to the tightness that you provide. "Oh god," he whispers and pushes himself a little further inside, "fuck you're so sexy!"

"Fuck me, Bucky," you reach up and caress his chin as you wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into his ass and pushing him closer to you.

Suddenly, he's buried to the hilt. "Fuck me," he whispers and starts moving rhythmically to the sound of you squelching around him. "You are so fucking sexy!" He bites your nipples again, moving his hips slowly, sensually. "It's been so goddamn frustrating pretending that I'm not attracted to you when all I've been wanting to do is fuck you in every possible position around the compound."

"Yeah, think of what the others would say if they knew about this."

He gives out a whimper and can feel himself twitching inside of you at the thought before he starts rutting his hips faster, his hips snapping relentlessly into yours.

"You like that?" You smile naughtily and grab his ass, "you like that you're not supposed to fuck me?"

"Yes," he admits with a grunt and rolls his hips sensually, desperate for more friction.

"You like that I'm so young?" You clench tightly around him. "Wow, imagine what Sam would say! He would be so angry, you know that!"

"Fuck!" He gasps and falls forwards so his metal hand lands beside your head. He's close now, he can feel how every muscle of his body tenses up and he knows he just needs a few more snaps of his hips and he's coming - so he pulls out.

Panting relentlessly, he looks down at his throbbing dick, concentrating hard on not cumming all over the beautiful woman in front of him who's still whining and begging for his touch. "Not yet, not yet, not yet," he pants to himself and takes a deep breath before looking back at you. "Shit, you are so beautiful," he licks his lips and fixates his glance on your tiny fingers disappearing inside yourself.

Without thinking, he immediately falls to his knees on the floor beside the mattress and starts planting small, peppery kisses to the insides of your legs. You're soaking wet, moist all the way down your thighs, and he scratches his beard along the soft skin as he pushes your small fingers away, instead introducing his own digits and tongue to your swollen clit. "Mmh, baby," he mumbles against your wet skin and licks you all the way from hole to clit, giving the latter a hard suck that have you trembling above him.

You're tugging at his hair with one hand, pinching your nipples with the other as you arch your back and moan his name in time with the fingers he's thrusting in and out of you while lapping at your sex.

"Bucky, I'm so close," you whimper with eyes closed, your chest rising and falling in steady beats underneath your soaked nipples.

"Come for me," he whispers against your skin and ruts his hips into nothing while his fingers and tongue are working you expertly.

Your moans are rising in pitch and he can feel how you clench more and more around his fingers until it's so tight he's almost pushed out of you. "Bucky!" You half-moan, half-scream as you fall over the edge burying your fingers in his hair and - oh God, he's cumming too!

Without even being touched, cum is shooting out of him and pattering all over the linoleum flooring below his knees while his fingers and tongue are buried inside of you, and you pull so sweetly at his hair in desperation.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He grunts and ruts his hips into thin air as he keeps cumming even after you've released your hard grip around his hair. "Oh my god," he shoots back his head and can feel a drop of sweat trickling down his temple when he finally comes down from his high again. "Oh shit, oh fuck! Sweetheart, I - I just came all over your floor."

"It's okay," you smile blissfully and remove your fingers from his scalp, "I'll clean it up before... shit, SAM!" your sit up straight, eyes wide with horror. "Shit!" you hiss again and immediately scramble to the floor, looking at your watch and collecting your clothes from all over the room. "I have Sam coming for a massage in three minutes!"

"Not the kind of massage I just had, I hope" Bucky sniggers and quickly wipes up his cum with the towel he'd used to cover his erection.

"Don't worry, those are reserved just for you," you chuckle and pull your shirt over your head.

"I sure hope so," Bucky smiles boyishly and dresses quickly, stealing several glances over at you as you fix your makeup in the mirror in the corner. "Does - does Sam get erections when he's here?" he asks. He cannot help himself, he has to know. The thought alone has his guts squeeze uncomfortably at his insides.

"Are you kidding me? Sam sees me as a little sister, he would never!"

"Yeah, true," Bucky chuckles in relief and pulls on his shoes, "...Hey, uh, I don't know about you, but I really enjoyed this."

"Me too," you turn around and smile blissfully at him, "very much."

"You wanna - you wanna do it again?"

"Yeah," you snigger and lean your hip against the table he had you naked upon no more than a couple of minutes ago, "yeah, I wanna do this again! I think maybe fixing your thigh is gonna be a long process!"

"Yeah?" He smiles broadly at the joking expression you're wearing, "Same time tomorrow then?"

"God, yes! Can't wait," you laugh and give out a happy sigh as you cutely bite your lower lip. "Now run along before Sam comes barging in!" you chuckle, "I thought you wanted to keep this secret."

"Yeah... at least for a little while," he shrugs and feels his head go dizzy when you smile broadly at him.

"See you later, Barnes."

"See you sweetheart," he chuckles and winks at you before he's out the door.

As soon as he steps into the cold hallway, he's met by a sour looking Sam who's occupying one of the chairs outside your office, his arms crossed firmly around his chest as he angrily stares at Bucky. "How long have you been here?"

"I came ten minutes early," Sam hisses through gritted teeth and Bucky can almost see the angry fumes radiating from his friend's scalp. "- what the hell was that?"

"What?"

"Bucky, you better not be doing what I think you just did in there!"

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

"Man, what the hell is the matter with you?" Sam stands up, his angry vein already popping threateningly above his temple.

"What? You're the one who said I should go see her!"

"Yeah! For a massage!"

"I did get a massage!"

"Jesus Christ, Bucky! You're old enough to be her granddad!"

Weirdly enough, it just turns him on even more.

Tagging: @natbarnes1917 @summerofsnowflakes @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @anxietyandtacos @maggiebuchanan @justsebstan @eddiestrash @crushedbyhyperbole @buckysdollforlife @getofffmydick @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @wermoewe

#bucky barnes kinktober #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky kinktober #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #needy bucky #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier #kinktober 2022

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lennadanvers · 4 months

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On this note,

Johnny Soap MacTavish obsessed with everyday life.

He's been looking at your window for a full two weeks now, and he's started to wonder if he should call some scientific association or something. How is it possible that things like this happen in the daily? You're wearing a short dress, baking cookies (you've been at it for two hours now, and yet it looks like you're still enjoying yourself), blasting music on a Wednesday afternoon. It feels like a life-changing discovery.

He's used to routine. Soap's day-to-day life includes all kind of useful activities. He eats, sleeps, trains and goes on missions. In his free time he plays cards, drinks or watches TV.

And all the time he's been out there doing that, you've been here living? When he was kicking down doors you were buying flowers? When he was shooting at someone you were hosting impromptu dinners for your friends? When he was breaking jaws you were yawning and reading and painting your nails and laughing in the street?

Soap has no idea what to do with this knowledge. Of course he knew people had lives different from his.

But he's been missing out on yours.

He's not sure if he's marveled or jealous. Everything that goes on in your apartment seems so alien to him. So simple, ordinary and special at the same time.

Also, he has an active imagination and has started picturing the activities he can't see from your livingroom window. He wonders if you make your bed with the same expression you have while folding clothes.

It goes downhill from there.

Soap needs to know how you look like when you're detangling your hair. The color of your toothbrush. How do you shave? Do you shave? He wonders if you have a mirror in your room, and how you look like while trying clothes on, doing your make up, sleeping, getting undressed...

It's pure and morbid curiosity. Soap feels the need to know, to watch the unaltered version of you. He wants to be an invisible witness.

Because he doesn't dare interrupt such a delicate display of wonder. He knows that he's tainted. There is no room for bulletproof vests on your coat rack. Your perfume, even if it is as fresh and complex as he pictures it, can't be strong enough to overpower the smell of gunpowder. Hell, he bets your handsoap wouldn't stand a chance against dried blood.

If he stepped into your sunny reality, he'd make it dark and heavy. Soap knows he lost the chance for a life like this long ago, if he ever had one.

That doesn't stop him from pretending it's your door the one he opens when he comes back from his nightly jogs. Doesn't stop him from looking immediately through your window, ignoring his own livingroom and soaking in the few drops of life that drip out of your home.

#soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod #task force 141 #fanfiction

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etheralsweetheart · 5 days

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MK characters with a breeding kink (PT. 2)

Yeah… it’s been a while. I wanna thank all the people who stuck by and for those who sent me requests, I will still try and answer them, but I cannot promise writing them all. Anyways enjoy this!! (Breeding duh, reader is female, degradation, kano, pregnancy kink, tell me if I missed anything)

Hanzo Hasashi

I think this one’s pretty obvious. As we know, he used to have a wife and son before they got killed. But with you in the picture, you managed to make him heal from that trauma and move on. He gave love a second chance and that’s where you guys… were at your wedding. Hanzo couldn’t have been happier in his new life. Being by your side, surrounded by all your loved ones.

After the wedding ended you and Hanzo went to your hotel rooms. You were slowly undressing yourself when you suddenly felt warm hands massaging your back.

“Hanzo..”

“Shh.. I know dear” he whispered into your ear before guiding you to the bed. Scorpion wanted to throw you on the bed and ravage you. He wanted to claim what was his, but Hanzo wanted to treat you right. Give you the love you deserve.

All you could do is moan as your husband kept pounding his cock in you. He was trying to be gentle, but couldn't help but speed up. Scorpion wanted nothing more than to breed you to give him a new heir that will carry on his legacy. You felt dizzy with how fast he was fucking you and it didn’t help that his whole body was getting wartmer by the second. The whole room smelt like sex as he kept pounding until both of you climaxed.

You shortly passed out. He chuckled before kissing your head and dozing off to sleep.

Raiden

In my opinion both Raidens work (That is mk1 and mk11)

I feel like he has a breeding kink, not only because of selfish reasons but also family reasons. Mk11 Raiden has a brother and probably helped raise Liu Kang and Kung Lao with the monks. As for mk1 Raide, he just gives me the vibes that he would want to be a father. No matter the version, Raiden loses his cool with you. Just seeing you vulnerable and putting so much trust in him makes his cock so hard. And he feels guilty thinking sexually of you. But he can’t help wanting to fuck his cum deep inside you and secretly hoping to get you pregnant. Of course he’d be gentle with you, except we're talking about dark Raiden.

While he cares for your comfortability, getting you filled with cum is more on his mind than anything else. He just wants to bend you over any surface and fuck you until you pass out. Like the others he would also hope you give him a heir, so he can pass his legacy along.

Kano

Okay Kano. He’s only into breeding because he loves the feeling of cumming deep inside your cunt. His dick cums so so much and you can only pray that he doesn’t get you pregnant, because you know he won’t stick around. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way his meaty cock would shoot ropes of cum deep into you. The way he pounds deep into you while he keeps whispering dirty things in your ear makes you dizzy. The alcohol smell on his breath doesn’t help either…

Erron Black

Like Kano, he’s purely doing it for the feeling. There’s nothing that he loves more than to bend you over and fucking you until you can’t even think straight. Not only that, but he’s also a exhibitonist.He likes doing it in risky places, such as at night, on a balcony, open windows and the list goes on.. but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t wanna see you pregnant. Erron was raised with traditions, except he didn’t follow each rule and often rebelled. It doesn’t help the fact that he also lives wild. But hopefully as he gets older and works for Kotal Kahn, he might actually try for a kid. One won’t hurt

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cartoonartistpng · 2 months

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Dadphiles!Mephiles Sheet

And with that, I've completed all four of 'em!

This one definitely took the longest. I was originally content with re-using my Mobian Mephiles design, but as I developed the story more, I realized I wanted something more personal. I'm super proud of how this came out.

This is technically "spoilers" since this is toward the end (Post-Forces), but I wanted a design that reflected Mephiles/Solaris' change. And I'm too eager.

This post will be updated as time goes on. New additions will be marked as (✨New!✨).

-> Dadphiles AU Masterpost

-/-/-/-/-

🔹When Mephiles recombined with Iblis the second time, Solaris regained empathy. His memories of his time with SSS suddenly weighed heavily on the god, but the destruction of time had already begun and Solaris still was not at full power. So, with the help of the Chaos Emeralds, Solaris sacrifices himself to fix his mistakes and ensure the safety of his sons.

🔹Following the events of Sonic Forces, Solaris is re-awoken... but still very weak. As he regains power, he avoids his sons, believing they do not wish to see him. They prove him wrong.

🔹With a second chance at being their father, Solaris assumes the body of a hedgehog—meticulously designed to reflect each of his sons—and simply becomes "Mephiles the Hedgehog". As a mortal, he is much more vulnerable and limited in his power, even if he were to fully recover from his self-sacrifice. Mephiles is willing to risk such a thing for his sons' happiness and trust.

🔹As Mephiles was taken advantage of the last time he assumed a mortal form (ie. The Flame of Solaris), Mephiles is hesitant to let any others know of his identity, even the ones his children claim are trustworthy friends. Therefore, only those who were in Soleanna know the truth... for now.

🔹Mephiles is introduced to the rest of his sons' friends as their dad who raised them, but disappeared when they were kids. Mephiles admits that it was not a good decision, but explains that he was "injured" and "unable to protect them without risking their futures."

🔹Vector and Espio are the only ones suspicious of this random hedgehog that appeared out of the blue, not long after the War, looking perfectly like all three hedgehogs. Hedgehogs that they know aren't blood-related and who were separated by literal decades. However, since no one else seems to be suspicious, the Chaotix believe everyone else might be brainwashed somehow.

🔹Mephiles realizes their suspicions, but doesn't correct them. Both because he does not trust their intentions yet... and that it also amuses him.

🔹The SSS introduce Tails as their brother and Mephiles immediately accepts him and requests to take on the Prower name just as his sons have. Tails, who was worried about disapproval from his brothers' dad, may or may not have broken down in tears at the easy acceptance.

🔹Vanilla, happy to meet another parent of this rambunctious group, often enjoys sharing stories with Mephiles. Mephiles suddenly has to learn how normal mortal parents raise their children, all to continue his charade. Through her, he slowly learns what it means to truly embrace Parenthood.

🔹Vector is jealous of how friendly the hedgehog has gotten with Vanilla. Once again, Mephiles is amused.

🔹Mephiles enjoys messing with Vector, mostly by "coincidentally" appearing whenever he tries talking to SSS, gifting Vanilla different things, and saying some rather suspicious words. This, of course, makes Vector more paranoid.

🔹Despite looking like a normal hedgehog, Mephiles is composed of pure energy and therefore does not need mortal requirements. He can feign eating but it does nothing for him. He appreciates the flavor, however.

🔹As an entity of time, Mephiles is used to viewing all of time at once. As a mortal, that viewing window is smaller, but still means that sometimes Mephiles will use the wrong slang, terms, and translations or even reference something that does not exist yet or no longer exists.

🔹Mephiles is utterly focused on making the most out of this second chance and is willing to go to great lengths to protect all of his children... Even if it means using methods they may not approve of.

🔹Mephiles is the one who enabled Silver to remain in the past. He also later—by request—makes it so Shadow will age alongside his friends.

🔹Mephiles can communicate with the Master Emerald (and the Chaos Emeralds), often expressing his confusion over various mortal concepts. The Master Emerald finds his bafflement amusing, to his chagrin.

[There will be no romance as Mephiles/Solaris is completely focused on his relationships with his sons.]

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toots-senpai · 7 months

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fair warning: i do not have a foot fetish, i just appreciate any form of pleasure...no foot fetish, (i will kick you stop fwm) just hear me out.

if cod men have hand/foot fetish & their opinions on you be spoiled with mani-pedis (ghost, price, soap, konig, gaz)

MDNI (you'll be blocked)

nsfw under the cut

captain price has a slight foot kink i dont make the rules. but ik its just purely because he loves all of your body. i dont think he’s down for sucking toes (idk tho man is a freak) but when he's got you in a mating press, ankles on his shoulders, he’ll kiss the arch of your foot 100% of the time. when you doll up to go out he loves slipping on your shoes, affirmations to stay safe or if the two of you are going out together, maybe it starts a teasing amount of pregame for the night ahead, kissing from your feet and up your legs. also pays for your mani-pedis every time you talk about a new color. if you ask him what he wants, he loves any pastels fs. goes rabid if you get his name or initials on your nails. sits in the car when you're in the salon or goes and occupies his time by buying food for you to eat when you're done.

soap probably has it full blown fr, like adoration about anything oral, full blown oral fixation with this one. he kisses wherever he can, it doesn't matter if it's the heel of your foot. bet he loves watching you lick the release off his fingers and vice versa. he's too jealous to sit in the same room as you without being able to touch you. this man most definitely gives you at home pedicures because he doesn’t want anyone else touching your feet. definitely complains about it even if he does give you the money for the pedicure and your technician is a woman. he'll lotion you every time you're out of the shower even if you don't need it. positive he's a switch, loves getting degraded, the sight of degrading him by making him suck your toes is clear. 100% puts of you don't get his initial in your nail everytime he pays for them, pouts even more when you pay yourself.

i feel like konig has the same energy as soap when it comes to being attracted to all of your body but i don't think he's down for anything other than kissing. but, when you get your nails done flashy for this first time, he see's your little hobby as something he can smother you with like everything else. you once got long nails with a red bottom underneath and that's when his appreciation clicks and he starts to love your pretty nails more than anything. kissing at your fingers anytime he gets and cumming harder when your pretty nails are wrapped around his thick length. probably begs you to not give him handies when your nails are done because the sight makes any amount of stamina and restraint go out the window. if you brace your pretty fingers on his collarbones while you ride he wont look away from you. if you get his initial signed he thinks it's cute but nothing to roll heads over for him. also paints your toes when he has the chance. would probably sit in the salon with you but man is a girl magnet so he sits in the car and probably sends you the worst memes you've seen.

i think ghost doesn't care for it all, pays if you ask, definitely likes to sit in salons with you, stares down anyone who tries to even think about talking to him. when you have your nails done man lets you do nothing if he's able to enforce it. no hard labor with your hands, but loves watching you tap away at your phone, flip at pages and laughs when your nails gets in the way when you write.

gaz is soap but way less possessive. do whatever you want, he's your backbone. i personally think he aids in your thoughts of delusion and encourages things a little too much sometimes. he's the best friend a girl could ask for when it comes to drama and getting all dressed up. is never unenthused at the the things you like and if you think it's cute, of course it is, he's buying it regardless of what you want. i think gaz is the type of man to be like "i wanna spoil you, whatchu want." instead of grabbing random things. the only time he surprises you with random things is when your items need to be refilled and he knows exactly what it is that you need. sits in the salon, stares at you the whole time and makes the nail ladies blush.

#captain john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #konig #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader smut #kyle gaz smut #john price smut #john mactavish #soap x reader smut #konig smut #i am okay with being told how to correctly tag

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sparkling-ariaria · 11 months

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Only you | Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter (set during Hogwarts, house of reader not specified)

Genre: Pure fluff

A/N: While feeling sentimental and listening to Only you by The Platters I somehow got inspired to write a little fluffy something for Sirius. Maybe there’s someone out there who’s gonna enjoy reading it~ (English isn't my first language, so if you find any mistakes feel free to let me know please!)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was one of those slow days, where everything and everyone seemed to be in the same state of calmness. Even the rain pitter-patters unhurriedly against the open window wich lets the warm summer breeze stream into his room. You both spent the afternoon there laying on his bed, talking and enjoying each others presence. In the background soft music can be heard coming from Remus‘ record-player. The vinyl you put on consists of some of the main hits from the 50’s and 60‘s, because you like those so much.

Only you can make all this world seem right

The moment the first notes start playing he is looking at you. An delighted smile is spreading on your face and you turn your head to look at him too. Listening to the words while looking back into your eyes he feels himself overcome with a wave of emotions.

He gets up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. With a happy little giggle you put your hand in his and let him help you up till you stand in front of each other in the middle of the room. He lifts one of your hands up to rest on his shoulder before bringing one of his to your waist and interlocking your other hands in the air. Then he starts slowly swaying the both of you from side to side, making little steps.

Only you can make the darkness bright

He knows a lot of people are referring to their partners as „the light of their life“ without putting much thought into these words and actually meaning them. To him you really are pure light, a ray of sunshine that managed to creep it’s way into his dark and lonely life. Giving him warmth and hope and the feeling of belonging. Whenever he had to leave to Grimmauld Place during his first summers at Hogwarts before he got taken in by the Potters, his friends of course wrote him letters regularly and met up with him as often as possible. But you where there too to help him cope with the long stay at this godforesaken place. It touched him how you always gave him especially long hugs before departing at the train station and wrote to him even in the middle of the nights when he couldn’t fall asleep due to the heavy atmosphere that seemed to be constantly clinging to the house of the Blacks. Just the thought of your smile and being able to see you again soon helped him go through the days. It was also you who immediately invited him to spend the christmas breaks at your place so he wouldn’t have to stay alone in Hogwarts.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

Not one day goes by without him feeling greatful for having you by his side. You’re the main reason he wakes up with a smile on his face in the mornings. He doesn’t even know anymore what it feels like to be bored. There’s simply no chance with you around. You share the same type of humour and often your conversations turn to witty banters between you two that have your friends looking on in amusement and with popcorn in their hands. You both know how to be active together, and you know how to be quiet too. Even in quietness the sparks between you can be felt. You don’t have to be doing anything, you don’t even have to talk. Simply being around each other makes him feel happy and his body and soul feel recharged and energised.

And fill my heart with love for only you

Even before he was old enough to fully grasp the meaning of romatic feelings you already had a special spot in his heart. Over time this spot just grew bigger till it filled his whole being with the wonderful and indescribable emotion named love he felt only for you.

Only you can make all this change in me

Whenever the arrogance he so loathed in his family tried to arise in him, you were there to bring his true self back to the surface. Or when he was about to take one of his pranks too far, letting his recklessness take over, you put a stop to it. You were never afraid to call him out, but you did it gently. Took the time to talk to him about it in a calm and serious manner. That's what you always did, being gentle with him and treating him like something precious that deserves to be valued. You help guide him to be the best version of himself. Someone others can confidently call acquaintance, friend, family. For the right reasons.

And he feels honoured, that only you get to call him boyfriend and show not a trace of hesitance when doing that.

For it's true, you are my destiny

It for sure was destiny, when you sat in the same compartment as him and the others on your first ride to Hogwarts. Little you who was clearly uncomfortable with the rising tension between him, James and Snape and managed to somewhat dissolve it by changing the topic to your excitement for learning all kinds of magic. Even managed to do some small talk with Snape about potions. He now feels ashamed to admit that he mainly acted like that towards Snape to get noticed by you, show you that he knew how to talk back. But by now he long realized that he doesn't have to act a certain way to get your attention. You're always focused on him, listening to every thought he has, no matter how big or small. Letting him be himself, wanting him to stay true to his own ideals and never losing sight of what kind of person he really wants to be.

When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do

At this part he gives your hand in his hold a gentle squeeze and takes it up to his lips to give it a kiss while keeping his loving gaze fixed on your eyes. The gesture makes your smile even brighter and a small giggle escape before you let your head lie on his shoulder. All the while still looking up to him with your beautiful eyes that never looked at him with anything but pure love and affection...and more often than not also amusement of course.

His favourite feature of you besides your eyes must be your hands. There’s just something about the act of holding them that makes him feel connected to you in a special way. From day one when he took your hand to help you down the steps of the Hogwarts Express, making you smile shyly up at him. Those hands that spread warmth to him so many times. Holding his cheeks gently between them when you are reassuring him of something, listening to him after a nightmare or shaking his head softly from side to side when you’re gushing about how adorable he is. And just holding his hand like this while slowly dancing through the room. Once again showing him that you will always be there for him, with him.

You're my dream come true, my one and only you

You sing the last part together with him, making his smile turn even softer. Just as the last notes play out, your lips touch for a sweet kiss and you embrace each other tightly.

For you two there’s no one else when it comes to now and forever. For you have found your only love in each other.

#harry potter fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #marauders x reader #marauders x you #sirius black #marauders era #sirius black fluff #harry potter fluff #first fic

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parasocialitevn · 2 months

Note

Can we get Eden’s nsfw alphabet please?

NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

In short? Adoring. Doting. Loving. She's positively fawning over you. Praising you, whispering sweet nothings, expressing her devotion... She won't ever want to let you go.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She's not great at complimenting herself when it comes down to it, honestly, she may just echo what she's heard before from others about having a pretty face. It's certainly a useful thing for her to have, after all.

For you, her partner... It has to be the eyes. (Though she'll try to insist it's All Of You, but I'm assuming that answer wouldn't be accepted.) They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and yours show her love, light, and a lack of judgement or disdain. Your eyes are hypnotic to her.

So you should keep them on her, and her alone.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

At first she'll be super embarrassed to get any of her cum on you, like she's "dirtied" you in some way, and she'll apologize profusely unless you make clear to her that you don't mind it.

From there though, it's very likely to become a complex for her. In that sense of "becoming one" with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

After meeting you in person again after all these years, her heart raced and her body became so excited from taking in your scent and being so close to you that when you finally parted ways, it took her a while to... "get it out of her system" so to speak.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Eden has no experience before you. But what she lacks in experience, she makes up for in Abundant Eagerness to Please.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where she can look at you, but more than anything she likes cowgirl. Straddling you makes her feel like you're all hers, and is there any better feeling in the world than that~?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first, she'll be a bundle of nerves. She'll think everything has to be PERFECT. She'll loosen up once you assure her otherwise, though. To whatever degree you're comfortable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

If there was anything there, it would match. Black is her natural hair color. But she makes sure to be groomed/shaved for even the off-chance you might see. But also she kind of prefers to keep herself that way too. (She obviously won't mind whatever you choose for yourself, though.)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

VERY romantic. EXTREMELY affectionate. She positively adores you and taking part in such an intimate act together brings all of those feelings out of her. Not so much showering you in affection as... submerging you in a pool of it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She didn't really do it much before you. Occasionally, purely for stress relief, but that's it. Other than that, when she does it's like the scenario in her 'dirty secret'. She gets overwhelmed with her feelings for you and gets too excited for her own good. At least she knows how to handle it herself, I guess?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I've said it before, but she really wants to try shibari with you. So I guess bondage is a given. And she'd never admit it, but she likes feeling like she has 'control' over you every now and again. With your consent, of course.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

She'll do it with you just about anywhere and just be delighted to be with you. But doing it in bed makes her feel like you're really, officially lovers. As lame as that sounds...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your interest, more than anything. If you're in the mood and wanting her, it excites her endlessly. Being wanted by you, being found attractive by you, it all drives her more wild than anything.🤍

Other than that, her chest and neck are very sensitive areas...

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Group sex, threesomes, Cuckoldry, Anything of that sort. The thought of being with anyone but you is positively disgusting to her. She'd rather get a steel wool brush and scrub her skin until she bleeds. And you being with anyone but her makes her want to tear her hair out. She won't judge you for your past, but you're with her now! She's enough, isn't she?

...Isn't she...?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She prefers giving, she loves to make you happy and give you pleasure. When she's receiving, she feels embarrassed and overwhelmed and ends up finishing quickly.

She's got a bit of a knack for it on account of an oral fixation she has. Surely you don't mind, do you?

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Eden can match your desired pace, but if she's in the lead she tends to start off slow and gentle, before getting carried away in her excitement. Forgive her if she gets a bit too worked up, won't you?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Preferably, you'd be able to take your time to "adore every inch of each other properly," but if quickies are something that pleases you, she's happy to engage if only for that simple fact. (Plus... The idea that you just NEED her that badly despite not having the time would surely exhilarate her.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She'll take risks for your sake, but she wouldn't dream of pressuring you to do anything you aren't comfortable with. Risky places in particular give her very mixed feelings. On one hand if you were caught, that person would know just how close your relationship to one another truly is. But on the other hand, she loathes the idea of anyone but you seeing her in such a state, and vice versa.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When it comes to you, Eden is... bursting with energy, let's say. And she's in surprisingly good shape, too. I think you'll tire out before she does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Beyond one of those little vibration toys, I don't see Eden owning much on her own. She'd be more than happy to get some with you to use together, though🤍

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Honestly, Eden does like to playfully tease you a bit. She wouldn't dare say anything cruel to you, but seeing your expressions and taking in your reactions when you're being toyed with is just too tempting, you know?

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Eden can get pretty loud. On top of that, she's very breathy. Panting, gasping, pitchy moans that carry her infatuation with you on every breath.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I don't care how good your memory is, you'll NEVER be able to keep count of how many kisses she gives you during. Anywhere she can.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

D cup

36-27-39.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eden's demisexual, so with anyone but you it's practically nonexistent. You awaken something in her, I suppose~

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She'll stay awake until you fall asleep first, but once you do, she'll be quick to join you.

#parasocialite vn #parasocialite #just chatting with eden #getting eden banned #eden #asks

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fruitcoops · 1 year

Text

The Roadtrip

Secret Santa 2022 gift for @veryspacecowboy, monarch of AUs, PhD in story spams, and altogether outstanding friend! M, I wish you all the best in the coming year. Hopefully you can experience even half the joy you bring to those of us on the server, because that would be a damn good year. Love and hugs, dear one <3 An AU seemed appropriate considering the wonderful nonsense we get up to in the channels. Cubs credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Fifteen Hours

Attention passengers. This airport has been closed indefinitely due to inclement weather. Please contact your airline for vouchers, assistance, and travel aides.

“…so, Gryffindor?”

“Gryffindor.”

“Same.”

The redhead nodded slowly, chewing the inside of his lip as he watched the other planes begin their slow return off the runway. “Y’know, my car is still parked in the garage.”

Fourteen Hours

Leo really wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Striking up conversation with the friendly guy in the window seat was bad enough—carrying it on to their middle-seat companion was far beyond his usual level of socialization with strangers. But getting in a car with them for a four-hour drive…

Christ, it was like he was asking to get axe-murdered.

He chanced a quick look at the driver’s seat, where the redhead—Finn O’Hara, nice to meet you, where are you from?—still seemed happy enough as they made their way to the freeway through the thickening flurries. He felt a little bad about making someone else drive, but if the soft snoring from the backseat was any indication, Logan had no such qualms. It was probably smart to let a local weave them out of the city anyway.

“Zeppelin?”

Finn startled a little. “What?”

“Led Zeppelin.” Leo nodded toward the dashboard radio. “Nice.”

“Ah, yeah, my dad likes it,” Finn said with a lopsided smile.

Close with his parents. Good sign. “What do you like?”

“Little bit of everything. I’ve got, like, two dozen Spotify playlists lined up. Let me guess, you’re…country?”

Leo laughed. “What gave it away? The accent?”

“The pins on your bag.” Finn gestured vaguely toward the backpack Leo had been cradling in his lap since they left JFK. A little murdery of him to notice, but also kind of sweet. “My mom loves Carole King.”

“Carole King isn’t country.”

A blush peeked out over the collar of Finn’s jacket as he coughed lightly, looking back to the road. “Right. Yeah, of course. I knew that.”

“You don’t like country,” Leo guessed, amused.

“It’s not—bad.”

“Mhmm.” He checked the rearview mirror again and caught Logan’s drowsy gaze; that pure jade color had captivated Leo on the plane, not that he would admit it aloud. If noticing the pins on someone’s bag was creepy, there were no words for ‘I want to stare into your eyes all day’ without sounding like an absolute freak. He tilted his chin. “How about you?”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “What about me?”

“Do you like country music?”

“Ouais, some.” He yawned, stretching as much as his seat would allow. The curl of his accent was a comfort Leo didn’t care to analyze. “Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash. My sister got me into it.”

“Noelle?”

“Non, Sydney.”

“Second oldest?” At Logan’s nod and slight smile, Finn fist-pumped. “Thank you, memory. I can’t listen to country while I’m driving, but you can put whatever on when we switch.”

Eleven Hours

Logan tapped his foot impatiently next to the accelerator. They had swapped after Finn got them through two full hours of standstill traffic just outside the city limits, but there wasn’t much he could do about the descending weather. Honking at the flurries wouldn’t be nearly as helpful as it was satisfying.

“I wonder if we can Flintstones it,” Leo mused from the passenger seat. His hair stuck up on one side from leaning on the window, burnt gold in the streetlights of the interstate. His knees were folded up awkwardly in the seat well; Logan hadn’t realized how much of a fucking giant he was before their quick stop at the gas station, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. He was otherwise so normal. Logan couldn’t help but feel a little cowed in his shadow.

“Logan?”

He jumped, double-checking his grip on the steering wheel. “Oui?”

“Flintstones?”

“Sorry, never saw it.” He gave Leo an apologetic glance and braced himself for the inevitable ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. People always assumed he had been sheltered, or homeschooled, or (memorably) in a cult, but the truth was that Rimouski had shit reception and his sisters always won the TV remote in fights. The annoying part was when strangers began to list movies and see which rang a bell.

Leo hummed and leaned his head back against Finn’s soft fabric headrest. “It’s a cartoon from the 50s or something about a prehistoric family. They’ve got a pet dinosaur and shit, and their car only works if the dad sticks his feet through a hole in the floor and runs.”

Logan waited a moment longer for the questioning to continue. What about Star Wars? was always a favorite. Do you know who Steven Spielberg is? Have you seen Jaws? Hey, you remind me of that actor from…

Leo gave him a funny look, something confused and yet not offended, then turned to look out the window at the falling snow with a small smile. “It’s nice out there,” he said quietly. “Peaceful.”

Finn’s slow, heavy breaths from the backseat as he dozed accented the crawl of traffic perfectly. Logan turned away from Leo and blinked at the cars in front of them. He couldn’t help but like it, just a little. Just enough to get by.

Nine Hours

“Three rooms?” Finn dug around in his pocket, then shook his head. “Or, sorry, room for three?”

Behind rhinestone-coated glasses, the woman gave him a sympathetic look. Hi, I’m: Rhonda! Ask Me About: New Jersey! was spelled in cheerful red lettering on her lanyard. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry, ‘s a long drive.” The weight on his back increased as Leo swayed into him. Finn prodded him gently and felt him startle back into consciousness before offering her a smile. “Came from JFK. No planes, with the weather and everything.”

“Where’re you headed?”

“Gryffindor. Family visit.” He tilted his head back toward Leo, then down at Logan, who was staring vacantly at the far wall. “Visiting a college friend, and…honestly, I have no idea where he’s going.”

“Ma sœur,” Logan mumbled.

“Right, yeah, his sister.” Finn ran a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck. His brain was mashed potatoes. What was usually a four-hour hop had become far more of a journey than he had planned. “We’ve been on the road since six. It’s a mess out there.”

“I bet.” Rhonda tapped at her keyboard for a moment and bit down on her lip. “We’ve got a room with a bed and a pullout, but that’s it. Lots of folks are coming in for the night because of the storm. I can look for a cot?”

Ice. Bed. Pullout couch. Finn suddenly became aware that he had been staring at Rhonda’s red acrylic nails for far longer than socially acceptable. “Yeah,” he managed. Everything had a faint blurry halo, even through his glasses. “Whatever you’ve got.”

“I can help you pay for it.” Leo was warm where he pressed along Finn’s side for support, a welcome reprieve from the freezing wind outside. Logan made a noise of agreement.

Just the thought of maneuvering three sets of paperwork made Finn’s growing headache throb even more. “You can Venmo me later, ‘s fine.”

The papers Rhonda passed across the desk could have been the deed to his soul, and Finn would not have hesitated a second before signing. Exhaustion washed over him in waves. The road trip had been fun at first, but after six and a half hours of creeping down the highway he was just done. He listed into Leo and felt a strong hand come down to balance his elbow; his muttered ‘thanks’ was met with a light headbutt. The cold press of the motel room key in his hand was salvation itself.

“Didn’t she say something about a cot?”

“Yeah, forty minutes ago. Which one of you left your wet fucking towel on the floor in here?”

“Guys, the pullout’s broken.”

“…alright, just get in the bed.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Four Hours

Six a.m. broke cruel and dark and cold. Leo scowled at the window and turned over, into the soft thing in front of him. It smelled like cheap citrus shampoo and the starchy detergent of the motel sheets. He risked opening one eye; Logan’s face was smushed up on one side while he snored quietly. Bedtime had been a rushed and fumbling affair of discarded bags and a halfhearted attempt at pajamas once they gave up on the pullout or any hope of a cot. Leo was just grateful for a mattress for his aching body.

In the faint light of passing cars, Leo sort of wished he had taken the time to see them both properly. Plane seats and Finn’s Toyota didn’t exactly lend themselves well to getting a fair look at his companions. Friends? Could he call them friends yet? He knew the names of their siblings and their favorite music—he knew Finn wore thick tortoiseshell glasses when he had to drive at night, and that Logan hummed under his breath when he thought they were both asleep. Those felt like things a friend would know.

Leo…Leo wasn’t all that good at friends, though. He was excellent with acquaintances. People tended to like him just fine. It was the depth that made him uncomfortable. There always came a point when he had to toe the line of just how honest he could be.

So he let himself look. If they weren’t going to be anything but ships in the night, there was no real harm. He remembered Logan’s frustrated grumble when he dug through his duffel and came up emptyhanded, but his shirtlessness hadn’t registered in Leo’s weary mind beyond warm person soft. The shadows caught on his rounded shoulder and slipped down his arm like spilt ink. He was tan even in the low light, with a few dark freckles splashed in odd places. Leo pillowed his head on his arms and followed the line of Logan’s torso with his eyes—he was just so nice to look at, like this. Comfortable and mostly-hidden under thick polyester, with none of his careful walls up.

Leo was so caught up in the glimpse of Logan’s abs that he nearly missed Finn’s hand. Wouldn’t that be a tragedy, he thought as he shifted closer to them both. Finn was mostly invisible between Logan’s broad body and the dark room, but he was pale enough to stand out where his forearm was slung over Logan’s hip. He was strong, too, but where Logan was thick and sturdy Finn seemed to have been stretched out. The blanket bumps of his legs and feet sat a solid three inches further down the bed than Logan’s—even his hand was bigger and more slender, long fingers twitching in his sleep.

Leo thought back to the subtle pin on Finn’s messenger bag and the way Logan had looked at them both in his quiet, careful way. If they asked, he knew what he’d say. Takes one to know one. Clocking them was easy, when he knew where to look (that, and their music taste). It probably wouldn’t come up. But if it did, he wouldn’t protest a phone number. Or two.

One of them made a quiet noise when Leo shuffled closer to wrest the blankets back over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of the highway lull him.

Two Hours

“JOLENE, JOLENE, JOLENE, JOLENE!” Leo hollered at the top of his lungs through his laughter.

“I’M BEGGIN’ OF YOU PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY MAN!” Finn shouted back, cranking up the stereo until Logan swore he felt the window rattle. He could see them in the rearview mirror, both rosy from singing and generally being rowdy idiots. He would never understand morning people.

“Did you text your sister yet?” Leo called over his shoulder.

“Can’t!” Logan answered. “You’re too loud!”

“It’s texting!”

“I can’t hear myself think!”

“Come on, Tremblay, lighten up!”

Logan meet Finn’s eyes in the mirror and fixed him with a look. “You don’t even like country music.”

“It’s Dolly Parton!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered. The happy, fluttery thing that leapt in his chest when Leo whooped and stuck his head out the window like a dog was entirely unimportant. Finn had finally been banished to the passenger seat, leaving Logan with an unobstructed view of his profile. He had spent much of yesterday sneaking glances at Leo’s round jaw and button nose; memorizing the angles of Finn’s cheekbones and neck was equally fascinating. It was deeply unfair of the universe to put him in close quarters with two attractive strangers. It was even more unfair that he slept solidly through the night sandwiched between them.

Finn had been an adorable, stammering mess when they woke up cuddling. Logan hadn’t had the chance to say anything of substance before Leo woke and Finn hustled off to find breakfast, though that was probably for the best. He would inevitably end up saying something to make it worse.

“Ninety minutes from Gryff, baby!” Finn crowed as they crossed the border out of New York. His whole face was alight when he turned to look at Logan. “Told you I’d get us here faster than the plane!”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. New Yorker,” Leo teased.

Oh, no. Logan’s heart skipped a beat. There was that funny feeling again, right at his core, the one he hadn’t felt in so long it was nearly a dream. Finn’s exuberance was like watching the night sky explode into being before his very eyes. Leo’s smile was brighter than the sun on fresh-plowed snow.

This was going to be a problem. They were going to be a problem.

Five Thirty Minutes

We should keep each other’s numbers. Hey, do you want to keep each other’s numbers? Since we’re all here, do you want to grab lunch? Do you want to hang out? Do you want to meet my family? How do you feel about marriage?

“Either of you want a granola bar? I have a million of them.”

Logan looked amused, which Finn counted as a win compared to the studious staring he had been subjected to over the course of the morning. His dark curls fluffed out from beneath the sides of his hat. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Leo?”

“I’ve got lunch plans.” Leo’s smile was apologetic and more adorable than anyone had the right to be.

Alex’s block was coming up. Well, not Alex’s block, but the one he was frequenting more and more as the months passed until Finn had to check and make sure what city he was in before setting any plans. Two streets and they’d be at the apartment building.

Leo and Logan did not know that.

Leo and Logan were engaged in some sort of cross-console nonsense.

Leo and Logan were right there, happy and comfortable.

Finn turned his blinker on and took a left.

The End of the Road

“Attention, passengers, we have arrived at our destination.”

Logan snorted a laugh at Finn’s poor impression of their pilot. God almighty, Leo wanted to kiss the dimple on his cheek. The car came to a stop at the curb. He did not miss the way Finn’s hand lingered on the gearshift before moving to the emergency brake. He was already five minutes late for lunch. Part of him wanted Finn to knock the car right back into ‘drive’ in spite of what Regulus would surely say.

The car was quieter than it had been since the engine first rumbled to life, fifteen hours and a lifetime ago. They gathered their things from the wells and trunk and every corner of the seats. The snow was just starting to stick to the sidewalk, crunching under three pairs of sneakers before they came to a stop at the driver’s side. Finn scuffed his foot against the curb. Logan couldn’t quite meet either of their eyes.

“Well,” Leo said after a moment of silence. “Gimme your phones. I’m here for the next five days and don’t know shit about hell.”

Finn looked up with that crooked, endearing grin. “I’m pretty useless here.”

Logan half-shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m Canadian.”

Leo held his hand out expectantly; between one breath and the next, two phones sat in his palm. “Sounds like we’ll have to figure it out together.”

#finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #oknutzy #coast to coast #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #au #roadtrip #holidays #fluff

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diabolimeservavit666 · 7 months

Text

Please.... What the Hell?

Fair Warning: None of the following will make any sense. Had a really weird dream last night and, well, this is what happened...

It sort of opened up with this sex scene between Jensen Ackles and Elizabeth Blackmore. She was sitting on his face, completely naked, and he was going relentless on her pussy (hands on her thighs), showing no mercy whatsoever (he was also completely naked). She could hardly hardly handle the oregasm and he was destroying her.

Next scene, had Misha Collins, me, and Genevieve Cortese in this really weird car that I'm going to talk about later. Misha was driving, I was in the passenger seat, and Gen was behind me. Mish pulled up to this old looking gas station you would probably see in a 90s movie, Gen ran into the gas station to get a few things (Misha said he didn't want anything and I shook my head). Mish set up the thing to full up the gas tank and I stepped out of the car so Mish could vacuum some really nasty stuff out of the car. Gen, of course, flirts with Jared who was for some reason working the register and the leave together shortly after. By then, me and Mish were back in the car (which now was a van/SUV instead of the early 2000s sedan it was earlier). The windows were down when Jared came to my window to ask Mish about his day. To this, he said "All is fine. Thankfully, this vacuum stuff has some really good suction." Jared replies with, "Glad to hear it" and goes back inside the gas station. Mish then calls up Jensen and hits voicemail.

I was trying to write this quick so I wouldn't forget about that phone call because it was SOO IMPORTANT but it has faded from me. It was something like wanting to talk about their relationship. Mish never finished all he had to say (he looked really upset) because he saw that Danneel Harris was now sitting behind me. Gen was sitting behind her and there was a couple of young kids I don't recognize in the remaining seats (both were boys if that matters). Misha takes in a deep shaky breath, asks "So, where are we going?", puts the vehicle into gear, and pulls out. This is when I woke up and started typing ASAP, still half asleep.

Now, that car… At first, it looked like some round ended sedan (the ends were round) with both faded and peeling paint (either white, grey, or silver - I couldn't tell in the dark lighting, it was night out) that looked like it was made in the early 2000s. The interior of the car was pretty basic, I think. Old-ish sterio, built in CD player, obviously no digital screen or adjustment to hold your phone. When it transitioned into that van/SUV, from the outside, it looked like that type of white SUV you see in crime shows when they have a kidnapping case. Except it wasn't a pure white, it was starting to turn grey. On the inside, it looked more like a mini van with some digital upgrades (not like modern "smart cars" or whatever, more like when cars were just starting to have screens in them - one in the dash and one overhead in the back for the passengers). Now, the weird part was the things built into the dashboard, regardless of the look of the vehicle. There were a lot of hardwired appliances that looked straight out of an 80-90s movie (hair dryer, hand-held metal vac, ect). This part kind of freaked me out. And, of couse, Misha being Misha tested the vacuum's suction on his hand before using it.

Edit: I just remembered- When Mish pulled away, he threw his phone out the window (an old flip phone but not one with an extendable antenna). I asked him what he was thinking (okay, more like shouted at him for being an idiot) and demanded he go back for it. He tried to lie, saying that wasn't his phone and it was only a piece of a banana. I wasn't stupid but I saw the look of distraught on his face and decided to not push it any further.

Also, those kids I mentioned kind of looked like they were David Haydn-Jones', the oldest looking five and the other one four. Judging by their faces, chances are one is Adam Fergus' and the other one was Jeffrey Vincent Parise's. The kids kind of make sense because I ship their parents but what were they doing in that car?

#none of this makes sense #my brain is dying #weird dreams #supernatural #supernatural cast #jensen ackles #elizabeth blackmore #misha collins #genevieve cortese #jared padalecki #danneel harris #yes im using their maiden names #sue me #david haydn jones #adam fergus #jeffrey vincent parise #actor ships #my mind is being extra weird #what the fuck

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drtanner · 1 year

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It's cold and shitty outside so instead of walking the dog and making both of us miserable, I'm going to tell you about the blessed roulette experience I had the other day. ( b ._.)b

After being a bard for long enough to get it to level 90 and never having tried anything else, I decided I wanted to make the most of the EXP the MSQ was giving me and start working on a new job. I'd been tempted to try tanking for a while but as some of you will know if you've been here a while, I'm terrified of doing anything that I can't guarantee I'll instantly be good at, so I'd been putting it off. However, since the MSQ requires level 60 for all of its quests in Stormblood, I didn't have any jobs levelled enough to qualify with the exception of Gunbreaker and Sage, which both started at 60, and I wasn't nearly ready, mentally or emotionally, to try being a healer, so Gunbreaker was the obvious choice. It took me a few hours to understand what the fuck I was doing and what my new abilities were, but after putting it off for a day I finally decided I was going to chance some roulettes and get some proper grinding done.

So I get into these roulettes near-instantly, which is a nice change of pace from playing DPS and waiting for ten or fifteen minutes for each one, and I greet the party in the chat window as we're loading into the dungeon to say HEY JUST SO YOU KNOW IT'S MY FIRST DAY AS A TANK SO PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH ME, I'M DOING MY BEST :') so that nobody gets their expectations up or gets mad when I don't do big pulls or whatever. This generally goes pretty well! My first roulette dungeon results in one (1) wipe because a boss mechanic caught us out but I perform decently well otherwise and everyone is very nice to me. I do my 50+ dungeon, my levelling and my trial before getting into a main scenario roulette, which is Praetorium because of course it is, so I do my little HEY HEY HEY I'M A BABY TANK IT'S MY FIRST DAY PLEASE BE NICE TO ME bit and everyone is lovely, and I gather quickly from the banter that these three people are in their own party together.

This is fine because Prae has loads of long, unskippable cutscenes that you can just talk through. If I have a good party and they like to talk, I enjoy Prae a lot just because of that! So we bond a little bit and partway through I tell these people that I'm grateful for them being so kind and patient and that I'd give them all my commendation if I could, and they get bantering again trying to decide who should get the commendation until one of them goes I HAVE AN IDEA.

YOU SHOULD GIVE YOUR COMMENDATION TO WHOEVER IS CUTEST.

At this point I actually look at their names in the chat window and realise they're all girls, so I go ALRIGHT THEN BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU, I'M SUPER FUCKING GAY.

(In fairness, they should have worked this out already given that my character looks like this:

... but there's a lot of youngsters in this game and one can't expect everybody to recognise Stelak for what he is, so I told them. You know, just to be sure.)

So I explained to these girls that this would be a measure of purely aesthetic cuteness, platonic cuteness, if you will, and one of them was like THAT'S COOL, I'M ACE SO I CAN GET BEHIND PLATONIC CUTENESS LOL and I went OH SICK ANOTHER ACE FRIEND FOR MY COLLECTION OF ACE FRIENDS. I'M COLLECTING YOU. and she went LOL THAT'S COOL ERIKA COLLECTS TRANS FRIENDS and I said WELL I GUESS SHE BETTER COLLECT ME TOO THEN LMAO. And there was a moment of silence before someone went:

WAIT, ARE WE ALL TRANS????

And I went OH WHAT???? SAME HAT????? and they all went SAME HAT!!! and I went SAME HAT!!!!! and we all had a little moment until one of them actually did notice Stelak's outfit in a cutscene and they all started telling each other to look at him, lmao. So we roasted the shit out of Nero and Gaius in the chat and had a blast and after we were finished they lined up and I made my pick of Cutest Girl to give my commendation and they all gave me theirs, and then we parted ways, probably never to see each other again. :')

Anyway I'm going to remember that until I die, I think.

#Tanner talks #final fantasy #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #gee Tanner how come the roulette lets you have THREE trans women

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arisa-berry · 5 months

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Eleven Minutes (Ongoing Read)

Paulo Coelho

♡ At that moment, Maria learned that certain things are lost forever.

♡ When we meet someone and fall in love, we have a sense that the whole universe is on our side.

♡ When we meet someone and fall in love, we have a sense that the whole universe is on our side. I saw this happen today as the sun went down. And yet if something goes wrong, there is nothing left! No herons, no distant music, not even the taste of his lips. How is it possible for the beauty that was there only minutes before to vanish so quickly?

♡ Life moves very fast. It rushes us from heaven to hell in a matter of seconds.

♡ ...love was something very dangerous and that the Virgin was a saint who inhabited a distant heaven and didn’t listen to the prayers of children.

♡ ...love clearly wasn’t made for her and that she wasn’t made for love...

♡ ...love is, above all, a cause of suffering.

♡ And no need for a man, who liked a woman’s body, but had no time for her feelings.

♡ It was like floating up to heaven and then parachuting slowly down to earth again.

♡ ...the relationship would end precisely at the moment when she was sure that this was the person with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. After a long time, she came to the conclusion that men brought only pain, frustration, suffering and a sense of time dragging.

♡ ...she decided that she could still think about husband, children and a house with a sea-view, but that she would never fall in love again, because love spoiled everything.

♡ ...forgot about that marvellous, murderous thing called Love.

♡ ...love is a terrible thing...

♡ With each day that passes, I see more clearly how fragile men are, how inconstant, insecure and surprising they are...

♡ "My aim is to understand love. I know how alive I felt when I was in love, and I know that everything I have now, however interesting it might seem, doesn't really excite me."

♡ "But love is a terrible thing: I've seen my girlfriends suffer and I don't want the same thing to happen to me."

♡ 'Beauty, my dear, doesn't last.'

♡ ...sometimes you get no second chance and that it’s best to accept the gifts the world offers you.

♡ "If I’m looking for true love, I first have to get the mediocre loves out of my system."

♡ Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever (as has happened often enough to me already) finally comes to realize that nothing really belongs to them.

♡ And if nothing belongs to me, then there’s no point wasting my time looking after things that aren’t mine; it’s best to live as if today were the first (or last) day of my life.

♡ ...dreaming is very pleasant as long as you are not forced to put your dreams into practice. That way, we avoid all the risks, frustrations and difficulties, and when we are old, we can always blame other people—preferably our parents, our spouses or our children—for our failure to realize our dreams.

♡ I can choose either to be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of treasure. It’s all a question of how I view my life.

♡ ...she would never find what she was looking for if she couldn’t express herself.

♡ Since you can’t open the windows in the plane (I had never expected that. What a shame not to be able to breathe in the pure air!), I will die here. But before I die, I want to fight for life. If I can walk on my own, I can go wherever I like.

♡ ...life always waits for some crisis to occur before revealing itself at its most brilliant...

♡ Love was undoubtedly one of the things capable of changing a person’s whole life, from one moment to the next. But there was the other side of the coin, the second thing that could make a human being take a totally different course from the one he or she had planned; and that was called despair.

♡ I remember everything, although not the moment when I made the decision. Oddly enough, I have no sense of guilt. I used to think of girls who went to bed with men for money as people who had no other choice, and now I see that it isn’t like that. I could have said “yes” or “no”; no one was forcing me to accept anything.

♡ I walk about the streets and look at all the people, and I wonder if they chose their lives? Or were they, like me, “chosen” by fate? The housewife who dreamed of becoming a model, the banker who wanted to be a musician, the dentist who felt he should write a book and devote himself to literature, the girl who would have loved to be a TV star, but who found herself instead working at the checkout in a supermarket. I don’t feel in the least bit sorry for myself. I am still not a victim, because I could have left that restaurant with my dignity intact and my purse empty. I could have given that man sitting opposite me a lesson in morality or tried to make him see that before him sat a princess who should be wooed not bought. I could have responded in all kinds of ways, but—like most people—I let fate choose which route I should take. I’m not the only one, even though my fate may put me outside the law and outside society. In the search for happiness, however, we are all equal: none of us is happy—not the banker/musician, the dentist/writer, the checkout girl/actress, or the housewife/model.

♡ “We live in a vale of tears,” she said to her invisible friend. “We can have all the dreams we like, but life is hard, implacable, sad. What are you trying to say: that people will condemn me? No one will ever know—this is just one phase of my life.”

♡ I have discovered the reason why a man pays for a woman: he wants to be happy. He wouldn’t pay a thousand francs just to have an orgasm. He wants to be happy. I do too, everyone does, and yet no one is.

♡ I need to write about love. I need to think and think and write and write about love—otherwise, my soul won’t survive.

♡ “Prostitution isn’t like other businesses: beginners earn more and the more experienced earn less. Always pretend you’re a beginner.”

♡ “Do you know who the loneliest person in the world is? The executive with a successful career, earning an enormous salary, trusted by those above and below him, with a family to go on holiday with and children whom he helps out with their homework, but who is then approached by someone like me and asked the following question: ‘How would you like to change your job and earn twice as much?’”...“The executive, who has every reason to feel wanted and happy, becomes the most miserable creature on the planet. Why? Because he has no one to talk to. He is tempted to accept my offer, but he can’t talk about it to his work colleagues because they would do everything they could to persuade him to stay. He can’t talk about it to his wife, who has been his companion in his rise up the ladder of success and understands a great deal about security, but nothing about taking risks. He can’t talk to anyone about it and there he is confronted by the biggest decision of his life. Can you imagine how that man feels?”

♡ Men are very strange, and I don’t just mean the ones who come to the Copacabana, but all the men I’ve ever met. They can beat you up, shout at you, threaten you, and yet they’re scared to death of women really. Perhaps not the woman they married, but there’s always one woman who frightens them and forces them to submit to her caprices. Even if it’s their own mother.

♡ “For a night? Now come on, Maria, you’re exaggerating. It’s really only forty-five minutes, and if you allow time for taking off clothes, making some phony gesture of affection, having a bit of banal conversation and getting dressed again, the amount of time spent actually having sex is about eleven minutes.”

♡ Eleven minutes. The world revolved around something that only took eleven minutes.

♡ And, above all, never fall in love.

♡ All my life, I thought of love as some kind of voluntary enslavement. Well, that’s a lie: freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself wholly, the person who feels freest, is the person who loves most wholeheartedly. And the person who loves wholeheartedly feels free.

♡ But what am I saying? In love, no one can harm anyone else; we are each of us responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel.

♡ That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it.

♡ ...time exists in two different dimensions, depending on one’s state of mind.

♡ ...there is always a right moment to stop something.

♡ Although she believed that love is the only true experience of freedom, and that no one can possess anyone else, she still harbored a secret desire for revenge.

♡ Vengeance would be hers, and then it would just be a matter of working hard...

♡ ...she would be able to devote herself to the thing that mattered most in her life: finding her true love, the man who had been waiting for her all these years, but whom she had not yet had the chance to meet.

♡ So many pretty young girls let themselves be seduced by the illusion of easy money, forgetting that, one day, they’ll be old and will have missed out on meeting the love of their life.

♡ That’s what all the drug addicts say, that you just have to know when to stop. But none of them do.

♡ Hang on a moment.

♡ ...it was her salvation, her voluntary denial of the traps set by the heart.

♡ “he’s seeing my soul, my fears, my fragility, my inability to deal with a world which I pretend to master, but about which I know nothing.” Ridiculous, pure fantasy.

♡ She was just like everyone else, she endured her loneliness in silence, tried to justify everything she did, pretended to be strong when she was feeling weak or weak when she was feeling strong...

♡ That must just be his way of keeping her quiet and still and happy to be there, playing the fool.

♡ How does light enter a house? Through the open windows. How does light enter a person? Through the open door of love. And her door was definitely shut.

♡ ...he knew everything about her, although she knew nothing about him.

♡ I was unfaithful and so were they, just like any other normal couple.

♡ ...and his voice betrayed a touch of insecurity.

♡ Or should I simply don the armor of the woman with willpower, with the ‘special light,’ and leave without saying anything?

♡ ...it hadn’t been her fault, but the fault of that insecure little boy, who had given up after the first attempt.

♡ We all do the same thing: it’s part of the initiation of every human being in search of his or her other half; these things happen.

♡ She wasn’t a child any more, she had to choose.

♡ If he was the man she wanted him to be, he would not be intimidated by her silence.

♡ Here, in my diary, I am aware that there are certain phrases which are not written by me, but by a woman full of “light”; I am that woman though I refuse to accept it. I could carry on like this, but I could also, like the duck on the lake, have fun and take pleasure in that sudden ripple that set the water rocking.

♡ Passion sends us signals that guide us through our lives, and it’s up to me to interpret those signs.

♡ Considering the way the world is, one happy day is almost a miracle.

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ria-writes-stories · 5 months

Text

Title: Soft grass bed

Ship: Envy

Genre: Romance, Cotton

Description: Pure young innocent souls

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

(No one's pov)

It was a warm spring day, and of course inside of the Elliot Manor it was an absolute ruckus as drones were running left and right to clean everything as it was the spring cleaning week, and yes it's a week because the Elliot Manor is huge as we all know, and yet in this entire ruckus two drones were able to catch a breather, just two, what were the chances? High. Because they were Tessas' favourites drones, and one of these two was the top favourite one, so whatever he wanted he would get like a spoiled child as Tessa wouldn't even hesitate to giving him whatever he asked for. He wanted to read about dogs? Of course! He has unlimited access to the library! He wanted to take a day break from the spring cleaning? Of course he can! He was such a hardworking drone all of the time! It is mendatory he is given a break as to not get a short circuit!

Therefor here he was. Here was N walking around in the garden, as a pair of curious shy eyes watched him from the windows of the higher hallways of the manor. Two shiny stars waltzing after the movements of a very handsome and pure hearted butler, but even by being on the last floor V couldn't see anything at all. The garden was so complex and vast, that goes without mentioning all of the shapes of the garden, from tigers to peacocks, to lions and cats, the garden was one of the most prized possesions of the Elliot Manor, however because no one has yet taken care of it since the vegetation just re-grew it was all a messy wild jungle, and the overgrown brances and leaves didn't allow V to look at N.

Sometimes V would hear footsteps and she's get back to cleaning the windows of the hallway as to not raise suspicions, but she couldn't stop the yearning in her heart that didn't leave her. It made her bleed like the injury from a prick. Not serious but irritating for it will only stop when you lease expect it.

In all of the chaos J and V ended up cleaning around Tessa's rooms together. Yes. Rooms.

V was staying quiet and stiff as she cleaned around without a word. J was jeleouse of N, why? Because J as the corporate obeying drone wanted to be Tessa's favourite to show her loyalty, so she was hardworking and sharp but N took her spotlight for what? Being an absolute dork? Yeah, J didn't like N one bit and V was beyond terrified to show her feelings towards N around J for this reason, yes it was obvious that they were there, but V tried her best not to show it.

After what felt like hours of torture from the heavy tension silence of cleaning the rooms with J, V finally got to lay down in her bed in the resting area of the drones as to get some shut eye and recharge. She didn't get to see N at all that day, at least not as much as she would have liked to. It was like the butler simply disappeared after V tried to see him through the windows of the manor, and now late at night he was once again nowhere to be seen. V sighed quietly under her breath and hugged her pillow like any girl seeking for a comforting touch does. Like any love sick girl does, she had to settle to imagine that the one she loved was the one she held between her arms, hoping that all of these wish will one day come true due to how hard she'd pray for it.

The next day she had a pleasant surprise as a pair of soft gentle hands softly rested upon her shoulders. "Psssst. V, wake up." A soft warm voice that V could recognise anywhere anytime no matter what. Her eyes shot open despite her sleepyness as she reached to the night desk to try and get her glasses only to feel them being put on her face by him.

N gave her a charming warm smile as V blushed softly and looked at him with a genuinely joyful smile.

He gave her a hand and helped her get out of bed, and after quickly making the bed N dragged her out of the rest room for drones, taking her down the hallways excitedly, he was a bit too excited, practically pulling V faster than the poor girl could walk, which made her run a little.

V was confused and puzzled as she had no clue what was happening as it was far too early for her circuit board to work at all, but she was happy. Pure genuine joy that can only be found in a helplessly in love soul who has yet to discover the grief and sorrow of this cruel harsh world, but until then her world is story.

N worked so hard yesterday even if no one saw him, and now it was the perfect time to show his work, and who else to show it to other than the girl he would try so hard to get closer to? He never knew what to say or how to act, however this sprout of energy that the girl loved him for was always what helped him when he was helplessly stranded to the side from her.

"Tada!" N said as he stopped in the garden with V as he smiled presenting to her proudly the garden. It was all cleaned up and shaped from the highest to the smallest point, all of the bushes and flowers were back in place and this time around they were even more beautiful as V gasped softly covering her mouth in shock.

V loved the garden, it was her favorite place but when autumn would come along she would ramble about what she loves from this very garden and what she wishes she could see in it. Of course everything was coordinated by the Elliot husbands, assigning the drones to do what they wanted, but this year around Tessa managed to place N on this duty, via his request, and now, all that V ever wanted to see in this corner of heaven was there, and it was all made possible by the very boy that she loved so desperately.

The warmth that filled the depths of her heart and soul couldn't be explained. She felt like she couldn't even stand on her feet, yet here she was standing as if she was in the 9th cloud.

N smiled sheepishly as he rubbed his neck looking away with a small blush on his cheeks. Neither of them knew how to talk next to each other, but even so, that was never a barrier for them, was it?

V smiled softly and kissed his cheek making his face bursted with color.

V giggled softly as his reaction as she covered her mouth before taking his hand and running around the garden with him joyfully as she laughed and he joined her, because how could he deprive such a wonderful person like her from such a simple joy?

For the next hours V dragged N around the entire garden like an excited child exploring an adventure park as N could only look at her from the side filled to the brim with joy and love for this pure lovely lady that he has met. She was his perfect lady, and he was her lovely butler.

"U-uhm, ahem- V?" N said as he coughed a little as he tried to catch her attention as he looked at her unsure and shy as V looked at him puzzled as he used his two hands to point her towards a direction, inviting her to walk ahead. V of course did as such absolutely confused as so far she has been the one dragging N around, yet it looked like he had one thing more to show her...

V squealed in pure excitement as she ran towards the tall grass and flopped on it rolling in it like a cat snuggling into warm soft sheets. V couldn't stand the snow, she simply hated it's cold harsh touch, however grass? It was such a soft and wonderful texture, but she could never do something like this before, because the grass was always kept short for the aesthetic, and more than surely this little patch of taller grass will be cut once it is found, but the fact that he noticed what she yearned for made this all the better.

N couldn't help but simply smile at the scene as he joined her, laying down on the grass, as he looked at her with a soft blush resting on his visor while V continued to roll around aimlessly, before accidentally bumping into N as she didn't notice he got there as well.

"O-oh-! S-sorry- I wasn't looking-" "I-it's ok!" N said with a small reassuring nod as he talked as nervously as she as he looked away while she did the same...before he slowly pulled her head to his chest and V's eyes shot wide open in simple joy.

She threw her hands around him happily as she shut her eyes, squeezing them close as her hands tightly gripped the back of his butler jacket as N simply smiled with a nervous face, looking at the sky as he gently kept his hands around her waist softly.

The end

#murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones envy

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