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writingsofestella · 10 months

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vespera - ch. 2

Apostate!Din Djarin x Ex!Jedi!OC -(no use of Y/N - reader uses a fake name) Canon Divergent - some plot changed for sake of story, the razor crest lives )

tws // general canon violence, usage of blasters and weapons, death, minors DNI 18+ only, mature content, violence toward reader and others

a/n: finally getting into the plot now! got some action and we're introduced to some other characters finally. let me know how you all like it! sorry for the long wait in between chapters, but hopefully this longer chapter makes up for it!

wc: 4247

previous chapter: [here]

Dinner was, for the most part, normal as always. Routine, familiar. Something Fyra still was not used to. The only difference tonight, of course, was Telia bragging about how good of a patient she was to the other kids gathered around her.

Fyra had only smiled as she had watched, sipping at her broth, only shrugging and playing along when other villagers had asked her about it.

She walked out of the dining hall as the sun was setting in the sky, bathing everything in its orange light. She started her walk back toward worn path that was woven through the village with some of the other villagers. She bid goodnight as they went into homes, all closer to the heart of the village than her own. They settled in for the night, content to repeat the day tomorrow.

Her steps were light as she walked, quiet in the night, walking toward the outskirts. The torches lit the pathway, growing more and more sparse as she left the more populated area. It never bothered her, walking this path at nighttime. When she first arrived here, it did, but now? There was nothing in the woods to usually be afraid of. She was on guard, however, as raiders from a nearby settlement had become more active in the area as of recent.

Much like earlier, that feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The Force whispered to her, beckoning to her, warning her. Something was there, just beyond the tree line, just behind her home.

She carefully, silently, made her way toward the source. The trees loomed overhead, dark and shadowy in the night. A hand instinctively went to the knife she kept on her belt, eyes narrowing with anticipation as she stared into the darkness.

She held her breath, listening. There was a soft breeze, making the trees move and the leaves rustle in the night. The nighttime life could be heard, the insects and other creatures deeper in the woods creating their nighttime song she had grown so accustomed to hearing these past seasons.

But something was there. Something was different.

There was a rustle in the bushes.

She dared not breathe. The Force warned her, pushing her. Instinct yelled at her to run.

The creature that emerged from the foliage was not what she was expecting.

A tiny creature, green, with ears much too large for their head, with big black eyes that looked up at her. He blinked a few times, tilting his head as he shuffled out of the bushes, wearing what looked like an old tan cloth robe that had seen better days. There was a tiny cut on his head, and he looked to be in pain.

But more than anything else, she could sense the Force reaching out to her, from him.

And her heart melted in her chest.

"Oh." She breathed out, and immediately, she was kneeling down in front of him, holding out her hands for him to take. "Hello, little one." She spoke out softly, trying to urge him forward toward her so she could help him.

What was this youngling doing all by himself, in the forest at night? Where did he even come from? How badly was he hurt? Where was his family? So many questions raced in her mind.

"My name is Fyra. I am a healer." She spoke softly to the little child.

He waddled, almost cautiously, toward her, stopping just in front of her hands. "Patu?" He cooed out, tilting his head again as he looked up at her, those eyes wide and full of so many different emotions.

She knew almost nothing of his species. No one knew anything. They were so rare, she'd only ever known one other, long ago, when she was once a child herself.

"It's alright now." She soothed to the child, more worried about the cut on his head than anything else. She just needed to heal it, heal him first. Then, she could figure the rest out. "You're safe." She promised to the child, her eyes staring at the child's, trying to reassure him.

She let the Force wash through her to him, warm and reassuring, calling out to him. He was powerful, already, that she could tell from just being this close to him. But he was tired, and injured, and scared.

His little clawed hands rested in hers, and she could see tears well up in his big eyes. She could feel the fear rising in him, and she felt her heart breaking.

"Oh, little one, shh." She soothed out, and wrapped an arm around him, scooping him up and cradling him in her arms. "Shh, it's alright." She whispered out, letting her eyes close as she cradled him, letting the Force wash over them both.

Another Force user.

Someone like her.

Someone like him.

It'd been too long since she'd found someone like herself.

In this case, he had found her.

Pushing herself up, she cradled him close to her chest, making her way back to her home, speaking hushed words to the child. She had once been a terrified youngling, on her own in this massive galaxy. A galaxy poised to hunt down and kill her kind.

Pushing her door open, she shut and locked the door behind her, cradling him with one arm, the other flicking on her lamp, illuminating her small, one roomed home. "Let's get you cleaned up and taken care of, then we'll figure out what's happening, okay?" She soothingly spoke to the little green child.

She sat down at her table with him in the crook of her arm, as he looked around her home, curious but still scared and hurting.

"I'm sure you're hungry, but let me take a look at your head first, okay?" She said softly, soothingly, and lifted a hand to his head.

He flinched backwards, squeezing his eyes shut, ears moving downwards. A noise of distress left him.

Her heart broke more.

"It won't hurt, I promise." She soothed to him, gently letting her hand hover over his little head.

The Force moved through her, to his wound, washing over it and healing his skin, much like how she had healed Telia's ankle earlier that afternoon. She could feel the Force working to heal him, and she could feel that fear and hurt leaving him. At least for now.

His big eyes fluttered close, and his little body relaxed against her. His clawed hand loosened on her tunic.

"Better?" She asked softly, letting her hand gently brush away his wispy, white hairs from his forehead.

He let out a cooing noise in response, his head resting against her shoulder. She let her other hand rub over his back. An instinctive thing, trying to soothe and calm him. Her own mind raced, trying to piece things together.

Where had he come from? That was the loudest question in her mind. It was only followed up by the thought of something, someone hurting him. That protective instinct rose up in her, to protect and help save this child.

A little clawed hand papped her cheek.

Immediately, she looked down at him.

He was looking up at her with wide eyes, his hand clenching and unclenching in the air.

Curious, she let her hand gently grasp his. Once again, the Force connected them both, and she could almost understand him.

Grogu. Lost. Where is Buir?

His name was Grogu, and he was lost. That much she could gather. But Buir? She didn't know that word, and her eyebrows furrowed as she thought of what it could possibly mean. What language even was that? It sounded familiar, but not enough to know.

"We'll find your buir, Grogu." She said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "It's nice to meet you." She gave him a reassuring smile, trying to soothe some of his worries. "You're like me. Is your buir like us too?"

A shake of his little head.

So it was just the two of them, then.

She had many questions, but she supposed they'd have to wait till the morning. Grogu seemed so tired and hungry and still shaken up.

"Alright. Let's get you something to eat and get you to bed. We'll figure things out in the morning, alright?" She said softly, scooping him up in her arms and moving toward her cabinets, trying to find something for him to eat.

After getting him some fruit and washing him, which was an adventure all on its own, he was curled up against her in her bed, swaddled and wrapped up in blankets, sleeping soundly. A hand was resting on her, clutching onto her tunic to keep her close.

His little nose and ears twitched in his sleep, soft noises leaving his mouth as he slept.

Fyra couldn't help but think he was the most adorable thing she had ever seen in the universe. Even if he tried eating all of her fruit.

So many questions raced through her, alongside memories of her past. They'd once been long pushed aside, pushed so far back she didn't want to remember them.

A scared youngling. Hurt and all alone in a terrifyingly big galaxy, with too many people who would hurt and use their kind for their own gain. She wouldn't let what happened to her happen to him. She'd find his family again.

Fyra wouldn't entertain any other thoughts or possibilities.

She let out a quiet sigh, trying to calm her mind and let the Force wash over her to soothe her to sleep like it did for Grogu.

It could wait till the morning.

When the morning eventually did come, it disrupted the daily routines the village was so used to. It was an interesting series of events explaining to the other villagers just how she suddenly had a child under her care. And where he had shown up from, what his name was, why he couldn't talk. And, to her chagrin, why he was green, from some of the children.

She kept her answers to a minimum, Grogu tightly gripping onto her all the while.

Which is why she now stood in the meeting hall, Grogu clutching onto her pants leg. He hadn't wanted to play with the other children nearby, instead insisting on staying with her. She had tried reassuring him through the Force again, but he was a stubborn little child.

The other parents and leaders of the village were discussing what to do. She couldn't help but feel partially excluded from it, as they conversed amongst themselves, like she wasn't even there.

She knew she was considered an outsider, but she thought she'd done enough to help them all to at least be included in a conversation like this. She shifted her weight, crossing her arms over her chest.

She willed the Force to keep her calm when all she wanted to do was grab Grogu and walk out of there. She was the one who found him, after all. She felt responsible for him, until she found his family, she told herself. It wasn't because she felt a kindred sort of feeling with the child, being a youngling all alone. Of course not.

"Fyra has helped all of us here. Do you think it's fair to throw this responsibility onto her?" Ghinia defended her, gesturing to her. "She found the child, but why can't one of the watchers go to the next town over and see if anyone is missing a child?" She questioned.

"Because, with the raiders' recent activity, we cannot risk one of our watchers leaving their posts for the time it'd take to travel." Retorted Henry, Big Henry of course, his broad form and narrowed eyes seemingly glaring down at them both. "Do we really need another healer here at all times? Why can't she go with the thing?"

His insinuation, and the insult toward Grogu, made Fyra's temper rise up in her. She clenched her jaw, her own eyes narrowing as she stared up at him. If she was cruel, she could force him to his knees right now. It was the same argument he'd had when she first came here. He still couldn't let it go.

"Respectfully, I'd like to put a word in since both myself and the child are standing right here." She cut in, voice forcefully even.

Ghinia nodded, as the other villagers turned their gazes to look at her. At Grogu, still hiding behind her leg.

"Speak, Fyra." Spoke Jir, an elder in the village. He was a white-haired man, leaning over on his cane with both hands. His eyes, surrounded by wrinkles with time and hard work, were still sharp when the rest of him wasn't any longer. His mind was still quick, despite his bones and muscles aged with time.

He always had respected her, and, deep down, she wondered if he knew what she was.

"Regardless of where he came from, he needs someone to take care of him, until we find his family. I will take him under my care until that happens." She told them all, which was met with quiet murmurs of agreements.

"However, I do not think it'd be wise for both of us to travel by ourselves into the woods with the way the raiders have been as of late if we are to go to the neighboring village to see if he got lost."

Which, she found highly unlikely, considering his size and demeanor.

Ghinia, standing next to her, gave a nod, her dark hair pulled back, showing off her determined and almost challenging look she was giving toward Henry. "Agree."

Two of the other mothers, and one of the fathers agreed with her too. Henry let out a huff of a noise, shaking his head, obviously not agreeing.

Jir gave a hum in thought, sharp eyes looking over the two outsiders. He tilted his head slowly, leaning on his cane, eyes flittering down to look at Grogu, who was hiding behind Fyra's leg. "Yes, you will take care of him for the time being, Fyra." He said, voice calm but resolute. "The child is already attached to you it seems, through some unseen bond."

His words made a trickle of apprehension trickle through her at his insinuation. As if he could see, sense, the Force between her and Grogu. But maybe he was just an old man, who'd seen and done his time around the galaxies.

She gave a nod, biting back those questions.

"We will discuss sending one of the watchers with you to the neighboring town, or someone else available to travel with you both in the next few days." He continued on.

As Henry opened his mouth to retort, Jir was quick to give him a side eye, sharp and pointed. Where Fyra could not use the Force to silence him, Jir was able to with just a look.

It was something she envied.

"If there are no other pressing concerns, I think this meeting is done." He finished, with, looking back over the rest of the group, dismissing them all with a nod of his head. "We'll speak in a few days, Fyra." He said to her.

With a nod of her own, she was then leaning down toward Grogu. With only a little hesitation, he was reaching up for her, letting her scoop her up in her arms, one of his tiny claws gripping tight onto her tunic once again.

Buir?

She couldn't answer his silent question right now, not with the others around like they were. Big Henry was seemingly glaring down at her as he walked past her and Grogu, almost hitting her with his shoulder. She willed herself to stay calm as she walked out of the meeting hall, Ghinia and some of the other parents walking with her, Jir having stayed behind to work on a few things.

It was growing later now, the sun moving into the sky behind a cover of clouds, outcast.

She carried Grogu on her hip, glancing down at him as they walked through the village. "Well, little one, I guess you're stuck with me for a few more days, hm?" She spoke to him.

He looked up at her, tilting his head, letting out a gurgle of noises she couldn't understand. She knew he was confused though, not entirely understanding everything that had happened.

She let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head, adjusting him on her hip as they walked through the village. She was lost in thought, trying to decide what all she should do with this child that was now suddenly her responsibility.

She didn't let herself think about longterm with the child. Not that she didn't mind having another with her who could, seemingly, use the Force like her, but… she didn't know if she'd be a good caretaker for the child. Besides, he obviously had some sort of family he was looking for.

And, she reminded herself almost as an afterthought, getting attached was forbidden by the old Order.

As she watched the children run through the village, giggling and laughing, she couldn't help but think just maybe the Order was wrong on more than one occasion.

Telia tagged along, half hobbling on her ankle. "Guys, hold on!" She whined out, obviously upset. She stopped next to Fyra and looked up at her, pouting. "Miss Fyra, they won't let me play with them."

"Well, you can always play with this little one. He needs someone brave to show him around the village." Fyra responded with, smiling down at the girl. "But, you shouldn't be trying to run after them anyways, should you?" She asked, tilting her head.

"…No." Telia mumbled out, dropping her gaze from Fyra, pouting more. "But I wanted to play."

What did her old Masters do when they had children who were being, well, children? How did they placate them, all without forming a type of emotional connection to them? It was a good thing she wasn't a Jedi anymore.

She opened her mouth to respond.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up, as a heavy sense of dread filled her. She took a protective step closer to Telia, eyes jerking away from her, toward the woods.

She felt the blaster fire before she heard it.

Within seconds, the village descended into chaos and madness. Shots ran out, as screams filled the air, ringing in her ear. Those old instincts reared their heads once again, hands instinctively going toward the hilt that she used to wear.

Without thinking she grabbed Telia. Whipping around a corner with the two crying kids, she all but shoved the two children under a bush, covering them with the branches and leaves.

"Stay." She ordered them both.

Grogu's eyes were teary and so were Telia's.

Danger! Don't leave!

Grogu's words hit her hard in her chest. But she didn't have time to hesitate, to let her own fear choke her. She gave them a tight smile, before pushing another branch over them, hiding them.

She pushed herself up.

"There's one!" A rough voice yelled out. "Get 'er'!"

She didn't hesitate, she bolted. Adrenaline filled her, letting herself be used as bait to get them away from Grogu and Telia. She whipped around a corner, mind and heart racing. She ran farther out of the village, toward the outpost. Blaster shots whipped past her, the heat sizzling past her skin, her clothes. It was only with the Force she managed to avoid them all, running fast.

She could see the watchers, shooting and running in between the raiders, shooting who they could. Big Henry's form was easily recognizable, as he was shooting raiders were he could.

He whipped his blaster toward her, narrowly avoiding a blaster shot that was meant for her. He aimed his blaster. But he didn't shoot, even as she came running toward them, as the other watchers took out the other raiders in the dust and dirt that was kicked up.

His blaster was still raised on her.

Dread filled the pit of her stomach. She rolled to the left. But it wasn't enough to keep a searing hot, agonizing pain from tearing through her leg. She cried out as she collapsed onto the ground. She sucked in a breath, tears in her eyes. Her leg was burning.

A raider was almost atop of her. She could hear him, hear the others, as they yelled and screamed, blaster shots ringing out through the haze. Desperate and defenseless, she lifted a hand, her last resort of the Force. But she didn't get a chance to use it.

As the raider came into sight, a knife was suddenly sticking out of his neck. He choked for air, trying to weakly grasp onto the knife, before he was collapsing, at her feet. Blood pooling out from it.

Panic filled her, as she scrambled backward, ignoring the throbs of pain in her leg. Adrenaline made her forget about it. She watched as something reflected metal. Reflected armor, as it stalked toward her.

Instinct screamed at her to run. And she did. She bolted away, limping, away from the haze, trying to get out so she could see again. And as she did, she could hear the sound of shots reflecting off of metal. And one by one, as other shots rang out, precise and swift, she could hear the sound of bodies collapsing to the ground.

Within seconds, it was over.

The dust cleared as she limped her away from the watchers, from where Henry had shot at her. From the armored warrior she had seen just a glimpse of. She limped back toward where she'd left Telia and Grogu.

Smoke filled the village. Crates and barrels overturned, homes broken into. She couldn't even worry about her own home being broken into. Not when she needed to know if the two children were okay. Smoke burned her nose, her eyes, as she limped. Chest heaving, eyes wide, turning the corner where the bush had been at.

She saw Telia, clutching onto her mother, sobbing out, crying.

Grogu wasn't there.

Dread filled her. She staggered toward Telia and her mother, chest heaving, eyes wide, tears pricking at the corners. "Where is he?" She gasped out, staring down at Telia, eyes darting to her mother. "Please where is he?!" She asked, frantic, when neither one of them could answer.

"He- he- he ran off- I couldn't stop him, I stayed under the bush-" Telia stammered out, in between sobs, clutching onto her mother.

Fyra didn't hesitate. She took off through the village again.

Frantic, her eyes darted around, rapid, letting the Force guide her to where Grogu could be at. In the chaos of the village, it was hard to focus. Blaster fire filled her nose, burning it, sending her into overdrive.

Other villagers weaved and moved past her. Someone was crying. People were yelling, trying to find one another in the chaos.

Her heart was racing in her chest, and she darted, half-limping around a corner, feeling Grogu's presence grow stronger.

"Grogu!" She called out for him. "Grogu!"

Her heart leapt into her chest, her feet coming to a freezing, halting stop, as her eyes took in the stranger in front of her.

Except, this was no stranger.

Armor glinted in the late afternoon light, casting it in a blood red. The broad, tall form stood from the body of the raider a few feet in front of him. A knife, like the one that had killed the raider about to kill her, was pulled out of the raider's chest. Blood glinted off of the metal.

And then the t-visor, emotionless and blank, snapped toward her. Locking onto her, tilting his head slowly. A predator sizing up his next prey.

It was him. The one that had stalked her across half the galaxies. The one who haunted her nightmares.

The Mandalorian.

And Grogu was running right toward him.

She didn't think.

She stumbled forward as the Mandalorian knelt down to Grogu. Her mouth opened, about to yell, but it died on her lips.

The scene in front of her rattled her to her core.

The Mandalorian, kneeled in the dirt, clutched onto the child. Shielding him, protecting him, holding onto him with such ferocity. It was as if nothing else mattered in the world except for the two of them. It was with a grip so tight.

She had seen it in other planets, in other galaxies, in marketplaces and cities, in villages and farms.

Grogu had found his buir.

And suddenly, she knew what buir meant.

The Mandalorian was Grogu's father.

And as he rose up to his feet, still clutching onto Grogu, the little green child pointed toward her. That t-visor shot toward her, an impassive, emotionless helmet. His head tilted once more, as if in contemplation.

It was possible he did not recognize her. After all, it had been so long since they'd last seen each other. She looked different now. He looked different now too, new, shiny armor. New weapons, she was sure, to track down bounties and kill the ones he could.

Yet, he took a step toward her, slow, silent. A stalker confronting his target.

"Can't run away again with an injured leg, can you?"

And any hope of keeping her peaceful life died.

all writing is my own. please do not redistribute, repost, or share on other platforms. thank you

[ taglist: @znerac ]

#din djarin #mandalorian fic #my writing #star wars fic #the mandalorian #din djarin x jedi!oc #din djarin x female!oc

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baronessblixen · 2 years

Note

“it's better than before.” (please don’t hurt me too bad!)

I think this was an angst prompt and my answer is... not. I don't know what it is exactly! Set in the revival, Mulder muses about life, changes and Scully. Wc: 1,966

Tagging @today-in-fic

Everything Old is New Again

The fake sunrise his alarm clocks projects wakes him at 6.30 am, like every morning. One of these days he’s going to find an old analog clock like he used to have. But that’s a task for another morning. Until then, he will wake up to this, believing Scully when she says it’s better for him. Even if the light is fake.

His body protests as he rolls over to switch off the orange light and the bird chirping that accompanies it. He doesn’t know how to turn off the incessant sound on its own. It just turns on every morning. There should be a manual for this damn alarm clock, but if there is, he’s lost it.

Mulder groans as he sits up in bed, running a hand over his face. It’s Friday. Once, days of the week didn’t matter. Weekend was an idea rather than a fixed set of days. Nowadays, he works Monday to Friday, like one of these agents he used to think of as lazy when he himself was younger. He wonders what young agents think about him now. If they think about him at all.

In the bathroom, his Bluetooth speaker greets him with a mechanical good morning and hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. You can take the man out of the decades, but not the decades out of the man.

He showers quickly, his shower head made to save water. Less than five minutes later he’s done. Gone are the days of long, hot showers. Now there’s only efficiency. Scully got him the shower head last Christmas and he, against all odds, had hoped it meant she wanted to take more showers here, at their house. His hopes were crushed when she told him she had a date for New Year’s Eve.

He spent long days waiting to hear about the date, about the new man in her life. It never happened. Over a month later, when her birthday drew near, he asked her about it, pretending his heart wasn’t pounding. She merely shrugged, said it was only one date and nothing more. The nameless man remained so. As did the next, and the one after him. Then, in May, Scully told him about Paul. A guy she went on more than one date with. Five, to be exact. Mulder tried counting backward to find out when it had started. Whether something had changed then. Had she smiled more? Had she seemed happier?

“I hope you,” she had said, taking his hand in hers. “I hope it doesn’t bother you. I will keep my personal life out of the office. I just wanted you to know. I owe you that much.”

So he knew. May went by in a blur and June promised to be the same with Scully asking for a week off. He didn’t ask and she didn’t say, but he knew she was going to spend it with Paul. Mulder threw himself into work, didn’t allow himself to think about her, or about what she and Paul were doing.

When she returned, a soft tan on her face, she looked guilty and Mulder was deflated. Once, they had gone on vacation, too. Away from the darkness that had followed them. No matter how much sun there was, how much love they made, it hung over them like a rain cloud. They both knew that one day it would break and drown them.

Paul was history by late June. Scully told him in passing while they were getting ready to board a plane. He just nodded, trying to keep his face neutral when in reality he felt like bursting into song.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re not,” Scully replied, but there was a twinkle in her eyes and a lightness in her voice he hadn’t heard in a while.

He took her hand as the plane started, knowing how much she hated that moment. She didn’t pull away and Mulder knew that things were changing.

His coffee grows cold over his musings, but he downs it anyway before he grabs his car keys to leave for work. The sun – the real one – has just woken up and is blinking through the gray September clouds up above. Mulder turns on the heat in the car, feeling a bit chilly.

He hooks up his phone, tells it to navigate him to work and starts his car. How different this used to be. Back in the day, he knew the way to the Hoover building by heart. Now he isn’t sure he’d find his way without his phone. Scully keeps telling him to not use it as it will make his brain shrink, but it’s just easier this way. And it gives him time to think. About Scully.

Today is the day. He’s planned it meticulously. He will ask her out. An old-fashioned date, just the two of them. No cases, no excuses, and no Pauls. No bees either. He grins, humming along to the song on his playlist. Another one of those things. He and Scully used to find tapes in their rental cars from time to time, listening to them in excitement. They never knew what the next song would be. He misses those days, sometimes. Misses the unpredictability of it all.

Mulder stops in front of the coffee shop he and Scully have started frequenting. It’s a far cry from the places they went to back in the day. There are seven different varieties of milk now, not just one. A couple of weeks ago, he ordered a coffee with cow milk and Scully threw him a look, reminding him that plant-based milk is better for the environment and for him.

Ever since then, he’s been taking his coffee with unsweetened almond milk. After all, Scully is a medical doctor and he trusts her. In every conceivable way. He orders his coffee and Scully’s and buys two sandwiches for lunch, too. Vegan, of course.

Scully is already there when he enters the office. She gives him a smile, sitting on the edge of their desk, reading through a file. His stomach somersaults, putting a huge grin on his face that takes him back at least 20 years. She has that effect on him. Then, now and always.

“Good morning,” she says. “I’ve been wondering where you are.”

“Huh?”

“It’s late, Mulder. Late for you anyway. Was there a lot of traffic?” She takes a sip from her coffee as she waits for his answer.

“Um, no. I was just- getting read took a bit longer this morning.”

“You’re not sick, are you? When was your last check up?” Asking about his check ups is the best way to remind him that he’s getting old. That he is old already.

“I’m not sick,” he assures her. “Just lost in thought. That happens when you wake up to a sunrise and birds chirping.”

“It’s good for you, Mulder. It’s a gentle way of waking up.” He’s heard her explain it to him plenty of times and so he just smiles at her, nodding.

“How are you waking up these days?” He asks her, taking a nip of his coffee.

“Hm? Not with a sunrise,” she says, throwing him an amused look. Now’s his chance.

“Hey Scully, what are you doing tonight?” His heart is hammering against his chest. If he were to tell Scully, she’d probably worry he’s having a heart attack. He’s at that age now, as she not so subtly reminded him a while ago. With his questionable diet and his inability to kick his sunflower seed habit, he should be careful. But right now, unbeknownst to her, his heart is in her hands.

“I don’t have any plans,” she says.

“In that case… would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“I’d love to, Mulder,” she answers without hesitation, rendering him speechless. “Are you okay? You do look a bit green.” By now, she’s walked over to him and she puts her hand on his cheek, gently caressing it.

“I’m just surprised.”

“That I want to have dinner with you?”

“That I didn’t even have to persuade you,” he replies honestly.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out again,” she says and color shoots into her cheeks. “I was ready to ask you to dinner myself.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She shrugs, stepping closer to him and fully invading his personal space. He doesn’t mind one bit and puts his hand on her waist. They’re skipping steps, jumping ahead, but they’ve been here before. This isn’t new. It’s merely a restart of something old and familiar.

“I was scared,” she admits.

“Scared? Of me?”

“Of you saying no.”

“Scully, I will never say no to you. I’ve been waiting too, biding my time. When you told me about Paul…” Scully groans and presses her head against his chest.

“That was a mistake,” she says against his tie. Her head resurfaces and he falls in love all over with her. With the way her fingers play with the lapels of his coat, contemplating how much she allows herself here in their office. With the way her eyes dance when he smiles at her, putting his hand on the small of her back to draw her closer. He doesn’t care that they’re in the office. Or that it’s not even 9 am.

“I hope I’m not a mistake,” Mulder says softly.

“You’ve never been a mistake, Mulder. Not once.”

“Would kissing you now be a mistake?”

“Not if I kiss you first.” And she does exactly that. He’s dreamed about kissing Scully many, many times. Back when they were first partnered and he didn’t yet know how she tasted or what she liked.

He dreamed of her when he was hiding from the world, missing her and their son. Dreamed about her when she made the choice to save them and leave so that he could get better, and she could, too. Now they are. Her mouth fits against his as perfectly as it ever has. He knows how to kiss her, how to move his lips, and how to tease her with his tongue so that she moans and presses herself against him. Some things haven’t change, won’t ever change.

“I missed doing this,” she says when they break for air.

“Making out in the office?” He presses another soft kiss against her lips.

“We never really did that, did we?”

“There’s still time.” He grins at her.

“This is a work place.” But she, too, is grinning.

“It’s Friday anyway. We can leave early.” He kisses her again and she responds in kind. When they break apart this time, she sighs.

“What are you thinking?” He asks her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“When I thought about this – us – I didn’t think… I wondered how it would happen. How we would be.”

“Is it how you thought it would be?”

“I didn’t think it would happen in the office,” she says. “I didn’t think it would happen in the morning. You taste like almond milk, Mulder.”

“No more cow milk for me. You said so. So… what’s the verdict?”

“Let me just-” She kisses him again, her tongue teasing him. His eyes flutter close and he wonders what Scully would say if he reminded her of his office sex fantasy. But maybe it’s too early for that anyway.

He wants to give her sunrises in bed, fake or otherwise. Orgasms, too. But only real ones. He wants to share his new favorite songs with her. Wants to drive around with her, Google Maps be damned. He just wants to be with her, in whatever way she lets him.

“It’s better than before,” she says and he knows she’s right.

#i wrote!#i have no idea what this is at all #i didn't think #i just wrote #i apologize for all the grammatical errors #i was too happy and went ahead and posted #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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snnbnny · 2 years

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congrats on 150 bunny!!! v proud :))

i’m here to participate in your double date game.

pronouns: she/her

i’ll take sugawara on a date and we have a romantic relationship

and this is smt i would actually wear to a date

remember to take your time love 💕

a/n: Hi Emmy my love, I adore the new url it confused me for a sec lol. Thank you sm, you're one of my first mutuals on here and you have no idea how much that truly means to me!! You are amazing and gorgeous inside and out- I kiss you!!

↳˗ˏˋEMILY AND K. SUGAWARA + BUNNY AND D. SAWAMURAˊˎ˗ ↴

->OUTFITS: First off, I firmly believe that more often then not you and Suga's outfits are almost always matching so he would be wearing this. While I would wear this and Daichi would be wearing this.

->OVERVIEW: We have double dates all the fricken time- between he boys have been best friends from high school and still going strong as well as you an me being close before we started our relationships AND me and koshi being coworkers; you can say that we have the kind of bong that we're always together. Now do we always phrase it as a "double date"- no. But today we decided that we should actually go on an actually date together....

->THE DATE WILL CONSIST OF....: At noon we will go MINIGOLFING after getting coffee/drink+snack at STARBUCKS, after minigolfing we shall go, GOCARTING! Which will be followed up by going to a mildly fancy Italian place I've always wanted to try!!

↳-PEER INTO THIS WINDOW TO SEE A MOMENT FROM THE DAY-༉‧₊˚✧

----wooooooooooosh---- ( my pov )

We were lucky enough to snag a window booth at the perfect time of the day as the sun was sitting a top the horizon creating an orange hue in the sky. I was mesmerized by it, snaking behind you in order to get the win the seat closest to the glass pane getting an exclamation of 'Hey!!' from you and a chuckle from the men who were previously chatting about Karasuno's current placement in some men's volleyball tournament.

My boyfriend Daichi sat across from me while Suga sat beside him and you were cursed to share a booth with me, however it wasn't like I was paying attention to much since my head was practically resting on the window sill with my eyes glued to the sunset.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Daichi, but if the sky was a person Bunny would leave you for them so fast," Suga teased his friend as he perused the menu.

"I'd like to disagree but," The ex-volleyball captain turned cop sighed shaking his head slowly.

"You can't!! Look at them! They are practically drooling right now!!" You cackled maniacally while gently hitting the table.

"Daichi you literally send me a photo of the sky at least once a day, don't even act like you wouldn't let the personified sky become a third," I teased as I turned back towards everyone with a smirk on my squishy face. Koushi, being the hype man he is, went "OOOOO BURNNNN!" and reached his fist across the plaid cladded table for a fist bump which I gladly gave with my tiny hand.

Your mouth widened in shock as Daichi's tanned face fell into his hands which were propped up by his elbows on the table, "I hate this. This is why we can't have nice things." He murmured.

"You're just mad that they one upped you for once," Kou patted his friends back as he teased him further as if to sooth the blow. But he secretly knew it was more a dig at me, which was totally accurate in facts but I was still irked enough to feign hurt which was comically matched by you who faked shock and protectivness towards me.

Thankfully the bit was cut off by the waitress who had a cheer smile and to tight poneytail, "Hi my name is Sorine and I will be your server today- Can I get you guys something to drink?"

"Yes please, can I have some water to throw at those men over there and a Bellini please?" I asked.

༉‧₊˚✧and the window fades to darkness

link to the event

#snnybnny's 150 follower event #emily's burough #hi ily #i hope your doin well darlin

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sizzleissues · 1 year

Text

another writing challenge I thought I'd post here. Again, certain criteria to meet (failed one lol) and set time. So excuse it's edges I wasn't allowed smooth them. Hope you like (:

“So I suppose you want to ask me what happened to my left thumb-.”

Marge slapped his orange face, wiping the smear of fake tan off on his rumpled suit.

“I don’t give a hoot about your left thumb.”

Mr. Crangle, an astute businessman used to getting his way, appeared nervous for the first time in his whiny spoiled life. He licked his lips, coughing up a fleck of blood. There was a ring of pink skin around his shrivelled lips, making him look like a child who’d drunk too much grape juice.

A pathetic end to a pathetic man.

“You really must hear the story. I assure you it will be worth it.”

Marge’s lip twitched, if it weren’t for the money she’d skin him right now. She stepped away, sulking into the dark corner of the room she’d hauled his unconscious form into days previous. Newspapers lay strewn across the table, illuminated only by a sad motel light. Her heart had fallen when she’d arrived via taxi two days ago, this place smelled like the rot of old dead people—left abandoned by a world moving too fast.

On the wall was a rotary phone, awaiting a call she wasn’t sure was coming anymore.

Mr. Crangle began talking once she’d stepped out of slapping distance.

“It's funny really. I was twelve, no, eleven and I was spending the summer on my father’s yacht. Important man, my father, believed in tradition. I’m not like him, I’m a feminist. I think women can do whatever the bloody hell they want.” He spoke like if he stopped the world would too. She’d always assumed when she watched him give his grand speeches on TV it was a byproduct of his ego. Damn Mr. Crangle could not deprive the world of his voice for one second. But as he blubbered, his words took on a nervous tick that didn’t quite translate on TV. He did not talk for ego, he spoke as if he was afraid if he stopped, he’d stop. His presence on this earth would fade away like vapour on a mirror after a shower.

“My father disagreed, we always fought about it. He bloody well might roll in his grave if he found out I’d been kidnapped by a woman. Ha!”

“Mr. Crangle I’d advise you to get to the point of your story, I am not a patient woman.”

“Right, right. I had a friend with me that summer, called him Cat because he was always slinking into places he shouldn’t be. Good bloke, Cat was just a bit too smart for this world. We were bored, as most young boys are, do you have brothers?”

“No.”

“Oh, kind of hoped you did. You’d get it then. Boys are tricky beasts, we play, we fight. I’m always hearing about how you girls handle things. Stab people behind the back. Don’t let them see it coming. Well, boys, they want you to see it coming because that’s just part of the fun. Cat wanted to look at that evil bastard's face when he fell apart.”

Thunder slapped as Mr. Crangle leaned back in his chair, testing the limits of his confines. Marge heard the stories about Mr. Crangle, that he was dangerous if you let him run his mouth. The kid who survived the founder of bad fathers by sewing lies with his needle-quick tongue.

She could believe that now. That man was electric. He sent the atoms in the air bouncing, that was his trick.

Her hand fell on the newspaper on the table. Research before picking him up. Her hand traced the subtle protruding headline. Henry Crangle, the man shocking life back into the soul of America.

“Go on.”

“Well me and Cat were looking to cause a bit of mayhem. I’d just had a huge row with my father, he disliked Cat, said he was too ‘feminine’. Old bastard. If he’d ever known how much of a flaming flamingo I was he’d have had me murdered.”

Marge cringed, tasting the bitter irony of his words. Mr. Crangle was an important man, important enough that a price was on his head from the day his soggy old father died and passed the entire family fortune to him. In a way his father had condemned him to death, from beyond the grave.

She left Mr. Crangle to talk, scooping up discarded pizza boxes and latte cups, and dumped them into the overflowing can in the kitchenette. She stopped at her reflection in the window, disgusted by the sight. Oh, how the mighty had fallen, gone from dining with gods to picking up the trash of a man who pretended to be one.

“My father had a statue of himself sculpted, he modelled himself after damn Caesar. Cat hated it. So we became Brutus. It was glorious. My father kept finding pieces of it for years after, to the point he sold the yacht to some other family to pass on the curse. Cat saved a piece of the nose and snuck it in his soup that morning. Oh my, how we laughed.”

“How did that lead to your thumb?”

“Oh, I chopped it off making the soup.”

He smiled.

Marge hit him where it hurt and where none of his words could cushion him.

When she was done the only sound was rain.

#drabble #read please #orginal story #guys why can i only write in short bursts #mine

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

Text

Shedding Skin

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader, Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: running away, secret identity, rhaegar is still chasing after Lyanna, low-key inc3sty cuz ya'know how Targaryens be, moderate angst,

Words: 2703

Summary: You wouldn't let your brother Rhaegar humiliate you. No. Faking your own death, you travel to Dorne and there shed your dragon skin to become a new person. A happier person.

“Please do not cry, Princess-”

Furiously you shake your head and wipe your eyes dry. “No. Haven’t you heard? Princess (y/n) Targaryen is dead.”

Oberyn purses his lips but nods. “Forgive me.” He shoots an uncertain look at Doran who observed and listened quietly.

Doran finally spoke “You know if anyone were to find out you were actually alive, Dorne could be in trouble with the crown.”

No one would. You made sure of that. You would do anything if it meant that you didn’t have to go through with marrying your brother Rhaegar. You’d give him what he wanted: freedom so that he could venture after Lyanna Stark. This arrangement had been your father’s idea and at first you and Rhaegar initially agreed to it. But then came the tourney. That dreadful tourney that made your insides turn bitter.

His older brother’s words made Oberyn laugh freely. “Us in trouble? They won’t even dare to start a war with us again. History has proven us victorious. Let them believe she is dead. You had it right, (y/n), to come to Dorne for sanctuary. If my brother refuses, then I will gladly help you. Elia’s been needing a new lady-in-waiting.”

“Oberyn. . .”

Turning to Doran, Oberyn gestures to you. “How can you even think of turning her away? She’s been through so much. She traveled all the way to Dorne by herself.”

“Others will know immediately.” He pointed out. “She’s simply too Targaryen.”

“True, but nothing we can’t fix. Dye her hair with black ink and let her tan. She’ll look like a real Dornish woman in no time.”

“The eyes-”

Quick to shoot that idea down, Oberyn reminds him that “Ashara Dayne has purple eyes. Many in House Dayne possess that trait.”

He put up a good argument and you knew that Doran would accept.

How easily it was to become Eirene Sand. A bastard with no history.

Arianne and Elia become your mentors on how to act like a true Dornish lady and helped to undo the damage that your family had done to you. You had to learn to demand attention from a room the moment you arrive, to look men above you straight in the eyes. To flaunt your body with confidence and use it to your advantage. Arianne had complained that the people of Westeros were repressed and how Dorne had much more freedom then them. Already you had felt that freedom and you embraced it. Never again would you return to Westeros, and that was okay with you. You had shed your dragon skin and became an elegant cobra (which Oberyn had dubbed you lovingly). Over time your skin had indeed lost the milky white hue and turned that of sweet toffee; silver hair repeatedly dyed with ink that held an undertone of dark blue.

Ashara had to contain her giggle as she watched her love struck brother. The moment Arthur had spotted Eirene, he was smitten. For her birthday, her brother had come home from Westeros as a present. A very well received present to Ashara’s delight as it had been a couple of years since she had seen her brother. King’s Landing was a mess and Westeros was practically near civil war. Rhaegar Targaryen had granted his most loyal knight this boon.

In celebration, even some of House Martell came out to Starfall. Elia and her niece Arianne had showered her with love and affection; Elia bringing her lady-in-waiting Eirene Sand. A lovely creature with sparkling orchid eyes that outshined even Ashara’s. The three women made a beautiful Dornish trio. And her brother seemed to notice this as well. Especially as Eirene now dazzled her audience with a burst of orange and pink silks, her hair long and free as she danced.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Ashara forces the mischievous curl of her lips to disappear. “See something you like?”

Startled, he jumps. To everyone he was the Sword of the Morning. One of the strongest men in Westeros. To Ashara, Arthur would always be her dorky, shy, big brother. His own lilac eyes wide above a deep blush on his tan skin. “You’ve always been so quiet.” Grumbled Arthur as he straightens himself up, now averting his eyes from watching the exquisite maiden.

“No, you’ve just always been so absorbed in things you’re interested about that you don’t hear me coming. Or in this case, people.” Finishing her sentence, she ends it with a wink. She relished in the adorable blush it produced. He was still such a child. Quickly so Arthur couldn’t escape, Ashara digs her nails into his arm and drags him toward Eirene. Sensing the danger ahead, Arthur digs his heels into the floor and begins to beg his sister to stop.

“Eirene!”

Obediently, Eirene looks over at Ashara and smiles. In such a subtle manner, her eyes flicked over to Arthur whose whole entire face was red. Her bright eyes immediately reduce Arthur to a puddle and also remind him of another young lady who had very similar jewels. (y/n) Targaryen. The once beautiful Targaryen princess who met an untimely death. A true loss of the sweet girl who had hair like starlight that had caused Rhaegar to spiral down into grief. His prince knew it was his fault, the death of his sister. A deadly blow to King’s Landing as it had also ruined the plan that King Aerys had to marry the two and continue the purity of the Targaryen line. So beautiful and sweet (y/n) had been, always a delight and brightened the room with her smile. She was the treasure of Westeros.

Eirene, however, was the complete opposite in terms of physical attributes. (y/n) had been like a snow fae with her light hair and even lighter skin. The Dornish beauty before him was kissed by the sun with deep black hair that shone dark blue in certain lighting. The silks of her dress hugged each delicate curve to emphasize her womanly charms. Lashes long enough to hold a matchstick fluttered coyly whenever she spoke to anyone; men and women alike fell asunder to her. Arthur’s princess had been nothing like Eirene. Quiet and polite, (y/n) was like a gentle ray of the sun; unimposing and bright with the ability to warm anyone to the bone. It was said that before madness started to rot away the king’s mind that (y/n) was the apple of her father’s eye. He thought no one would be good enough for her except for her own brother Rhaegar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur spots an inquisitive Arianne who cranes her head around Ser Andrey Dalt; a gold circlet resting on her brow.

“Would you mind keeping my brother company?” Ashara asks Eirene with a sweet voice. “He’s quite shy and hates parties but I must entertain the other lords that have come to celebrate.”

Smiling and with a perfect curtsy, Eirene replies “It would be my honor to keep your illustrious brother company.” When she looks at Arthur, her eyes are glittering.

Around her, Arthur felt like a nervous young boy all over again. But Eirene sensed it and made things easier for him. It was comfortable being around her. She smiled and laughed freely and would make jokes just so Arthur didn’t feel as nervous. There was something so uncanny about her though. Like Arthur already knew her .

The night wore on and as it did, the two became closer both physically and mentally. Dornish women were experts at the game of seduction and Arthur was more than ready to succumb. All the while in the back of his mind, he had to remind himself about his knighthood. Ashara was right though. He would always be a Dornish man first and foremost.

“I hear Westerosi knights aren’t allowed to take lovers or wives.” She mused when they had separated themselves from the rest of the dying party. Outside they watched the stars reflect themselves on the calm water below. Starfall was nestled into the side of the Dornish Marches, on the other side of the Prince’s Pass. A quiet and peaceful area that Arthur was proud to call his home.

Eirene looked perfect with Starfall as her backdrop. Her hair nearly blended and disappeared into the night sky. Stars glittered shyly.

“Aye. That is true.” He spoke, but his attention was solely stuck to her face. Eyelashes that fluttered, sweet lilac drawing him further in.

“Don’t you get lonely? You’re a man of Dorne afterall. A shame for any hot blooded Dornish man to sleep alone without a partner.”

“Perhaps that is true for Prince Oberyn Martell and the likes of which Arianne keeps company with.”

“Not you though.”

“Not to say that I don’t get lonely. I’m human after all. But I remember my vows.”

She seems to grimace at this and push off of the rail of the balcony to look directly at him. “So you’re saying that the other men in the Kingsguard follow suit.”

Firmly pressing his lips together, Arthur feels a shift in the air around her. “It would be treasonous if they didn’t.”

Laughter was not the reaction Arthur had been expecting. Eirene kept surprising him. Her harsh laugh sounded so familiar. He was sure that he had heard it before, but the face didn’t match. Well. . . No. Princess (y/n) was dead and gone.

But he was starting to be bothered by the similarities between the two.

“Do you truly believe that, Ser?”

“Do you really believe that Arthur?” (y/n) had said something so similar with the same cruelly broken face. Tears had stained her face and made her red. Eirene looked haughty, not sad. The tone was all the same though.

“I want to believe it.”

She deflated. “You’re too good. What a wonderful lord you would have made.”

Arthur shakes his head. “No. That title is my nephew’s first and foremost. I don’t want it anyway. Being a knight is all I have ever dreamed of. Serving my kingdom and becoming good enough to have songs written about me.” That last part was an obvious lie that had both of them cackling. He had never gotten along so well with a woman. Eirene was something special that he didn’t want to relinquish.

“We’ve been talking a lot about me. What about you?”

Waving her hand and a shake of her head, Eirene scoffs. “Nothing special. Just another bastard. Until Prince Oberyn helped me out. I finally became someone that I was happy with.” There’s warmth there and any other man might think she was in love with Oberyn. Arthur knew better. She did love him, that was clear, but in a respectful manner that made them a type of family. “I literally owe my life to House Martell. I don’t mind one bit. They ask nothing of me that I wouldn’t want to do. Who I was before them doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, that person is dead.”

“Let me go Arthur!” (y/n) had nearly clawed his eyes out with her sharp nails as she scrambled for freedom. Her bag of meager possessions tumbled to the ground, scattering it’s contents. A simple tunic and bottoms, food that would most likely sustain her for a few days. The Princess was planning to escape her prison.

Why did he think of that all of a sudden? It had happened so long ago.

The thought was persistent as slowly Eirene morphed easily into (y/n).

“I don’t want to be HERE anymore!” She screamed and landed a nice punch below his eye. Arthur scolded himself for letting her go in that second. It was already too late for (y/n) though as other guards began filing in. He knew her tears held no sorrow. There was only anger and desperation there. “If you don’t let me go, you’re sentencing me to death. That’s what will happen if I have to stay here any longer.”

“(y/n)-”

“Shut up! Do you hear how people mock me? The worst of it all is knowing Rhaegar no longer wishes for me to be his bride. That’s fine. Because I don’t want him as a groom or a brother.”

“Arthur?” Eirene is thrust back into the scene, melting his memory and coaxing him to the here and now. “Are you okay?”

Almost scared, his voice whispered “(y/n)?”

The name easily slid off of her but there was a subtle difference in her eyes. They refused to look at him. “Who?”

“Princess (y/n) Tagaryen. The Silver Dragon of King’s Landing. Protector of the Dragon Pits.” Only (y/n) would know the meaning behind such a silly title. A fond memory that Rhaegar had shared with Arthur. When times were simpler and nothing was expected of them.

“So this is where the two of you were hiding.” Arianne’s voice made both jump. “(y/n), Elia has been looking for you. Best to attend to her.”

Relief screamed on her face as she nodded. “Goodnight Ser Arthur. Sweet dreams.”

He called out to her as Eirene fled, attempting to follow her but cut off her track by Arianne. “Not so fast. We need to have a talk with you.”

“We?”

Peeling from around the corner was his sister Ashara. “Come along brother. This needs to be disclosed in a secure chamber.”

Two of the most headstrong women in all of Dorne, who was Arthur to try and refuse them?

When they found a secluded enough area, Arthur asked out right if his thoughts were true. Arianne didn’t bother to try and lie. She held down his gaze. “It was Oberyn who saved her. It was I who baptized her as a Dornish woman. She is no longer (y/n) Targaryen, but Eirene Sand.” Arianne Martell gave Arthur a withering glare that made him shrink back unconsciously. Next to her, his sister Ashara was also taking a defensive stance and watching her brother. “You are not to say a word of (y/n) Targaryen ever again. Understood? She is dead. If either Oberyn or myself hear of you trying to tell Prince Rhaegar, there will be a punishment to face. She is under House Martell protection.”

He just couldn’t shake off the feeling that this entire thing was wrong. Westeros had mourned the death of their princess for years. Even Rhaegar had crumbled under his grief. He hadn’t spoken of Lyanna Stark since his sister’s death.

The girl that he had fallen in love with in such a short amount of time was none other than Princess (y/n) Targaryen. Arthur should have known better. The face, the eyes, hell even her laugh had reminded Arthur of the silver haired maiden.

“She is just like any other woman now, Arthur. If you wish to pursue her as a potential bride, go for it.” His sister reminded him quietly, having witnessed the attraction the two had for the other.

“My vows-”

Ashara threw her hands up. “Oh shut up about your vow. You think any of those seasoned knights really don’t have secret wives or mistresses? That didn’t seem to be an issue when the two of you were making eyes at each other.”

“Ashara!” Blushing, Arthur hides his face with his hand pretending to be frustrated but he really felt like a young boy all over again. In love for the very first time and being teased mercilessly by his sister.

Her lips quirk up. “I think you may even love her.”

Even Arianne grinned at that and tried to suppress her giggle. “House Martell would be more than happy to officiate your marriage. Besides, those are only Westerosi ideals. We do things differently here in Dorne, or have you forgotten about your own home?”

That’s right. His heart came to life with hope. He was Dornish through and through and this was his home. His loyalty to the Martells would always be ingrained into him. In Dorne, he could have a life with. . .

(y/n). . .

Eirene. . .

Whoever she wanted to go by. She was still the same person he had fallen for.

#arthur dayne #arthur dayne x reader #arthur dayne fanfiction #arthur dayne fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got fanfiction #reader insert #character x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

shameless summer series - lifeguard au 🥽🩲🌊

debbie has her eye on the new lifeguard at the public pool. unlucky for her, said lifeguard already has his eye set on a different red-headed gallagher.

(think like s2 era)

also happy a.u.gust! @gallavichthings

words: 1.7k

"Debs, why do I gotta take you to the pool again this week? I thought you already fixed whatever was the problem with that blonde bitch," Ian whined, shoveling cereal into his mouth. Two tubes of sunscreen sat on the table in front of him.

"It's not about her anymore." Debbie retorted, like it was the simplest thing.

"Okay. Then what is it about?"

"Nothing!"

"Ask her boyfriend." Carl yelled over his video game in the living room, taking any opportunity to embarrass his sister.

Ian and Debbie's voices overlapped with a "Boyfriend?!" and "He's not my boyfriend-- Carl I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Debbie tossed a fork at Carl's head.

"Oh, now I'm definitely in," Ian laughed and winced before Debbie could throw a fork his direction.

The walk to the pool was relatively quiet aside from the rhythmic smacking of their sandals against the gravely pavement.

Debbie leapt a few strides, trying to outrun her shadow and failing each time. Ian chuckled, pulling the towel around his neck and swinging his keychain with the other hand.

Now that it was just the two of them, he tried again.

"Soooo," he drawled. "What's with this secret boyfriend?"

Debbie sighed. "He's not my boyfriend. Well, not yet."

"Hmm?"

"He's one of the new lifeguards since Justin got attacked by that dog last week."

Justin still owed Lip a beating for something or other so Ian was glad he didn't have to deal with Justin today, at least.

"You think this new lifeguard is a little too old for you?" Ian wondered.

Debbie shrugged. "Not like it matters much."

Ian couldn't argue with that logic. "I'll kick his ass if he bothers you, yeah?"

"Please. He doesn't even look at me. Even when I was fake-drowning." She skipped down the sidewalk, nearing the pool entrance.

Ian shook his head. His sister was something else.

After they set their towels down, Ian's eyes scoured the lifeguard chairs immediately. Too-tan-Toni, shrimp-speedo-Sam, and holy-fucking-shit. Was that Mickey Milkovich?

Ian hadn't let himself think about Mickey since he left town. But it was hard not to now that he was right in front of him again. Shit.

Mickey spread out across his chair, sunglasses low on his nose, watching the newcomers and he smirked before glancing back towards the pool. He blew his whistle and yelled at some kid to 'slow the fuck down unless you wanna bust your ass -- and I ain't fixing you up!'

Ian was brought back to the moment by Debbie's hands waving in front of his face. "Helloooo, earth to Ian! Sunscreen?"

Ian could've sworn he heard a chuckle coming from the direction of the lifeguard chair as he dug the sunscreen out of his shorts pockets. No. He was just being paranoid. His cheeks blushed regardless.

"Is that...?" Ian nodded his head towards the raven-haired man.

"Shhh!" Debbie slapped him on the arm. "Don't make it obvious!"

Ian rolled his eyes at her ridiculousness.

He covered Debbie's back and shoulders in the high resistance sunscreen before she took off towards the side of the pool with the diving board, eager to show off her skills.

He yelled after her. "Wait, fuck, Debs you forgot..." He glanced around.

His eyes definitely locked with Mickey's now.

Fuck.

Mickey hopped off his chair, waving his hand to dismiss his crowd of moon-eyed preteen girls and middle-aged women in scandalous bikinis. Ian would have shuddered at the thought if Mickey wasn't making a bee-line directly towards him.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuuuuuck.

"'Sup, man? Been awhile..." He smirked. "Raggedy Ann run out on ya?" Mickey bowed his leg out on his final step towards Ian, a little closer than he expected.

"Uhhh...." Real smooth, Ian. His words were bound to fail him again with the man in such close proximity to him, so he simply held up his bottle of sunscreen and shrugged.

"Toss it here," Mickey coolly demanded.

Ian was thoroughly confused, but threw it anyways. "What?"

"You heard me, Red. Turn around, I'll get your back."

"Protecting and serving the local ginger kids at the pool?" Ian joked weakly, finding his voice again.

Mickey huffed a breath. "Fuck the pigs. The only thing I'm protecting is your ass from a sunburn."

Ian was still confused as to why Mickey was offering to rub his back at a very public pool when he would have literally beaten his ass for looking his direction before.

All of Ian's thoughts subsided as he felt sturdy hands push the warming liquid around his shoulder blades, up his neck, then down his spine. Mickey's thumb digging deep into his muscles. He suppressed his urge to shiver despite the rising temperatures of the hot Chicago summer.

At least he thought he had suppressed it. A huff of air on the back of his neck said otherwise.

Mickey started pulling his hands away and Ian leaned back into them again. Mickey whacked the side of his head before tossing the bottle of sunscreen onto the chair in front of them.

"No free massages, man. Just sunscreen." Mickey licked the corner of his mouth and looked from the ground up to Ian's eyes.

He had to know how devious he looked. Ian didn't want to be presumptuous, but he just held eye contact.

"Unless," Mickey veered, slowly backing away, "the favor was returned in one way or another." He winked.

Ian stood, mouth agape as Mickey turned and waved again to the group of girls who still hadn't taken their eyes off of him. He hopped up onto his chair, whistle in mouth in no time like nothing had ever happened.

What the fuck was going on?

Ian spent the next few hours very much Not Looking At Mickey despite feeling a heated stare on him.

Even when he was having a breath-holding competition with Debbie, his brain couldn't stop the endless stream of Mickey Mickey Mickey.

After Debbie's third win, Ian felt like he was on the verge of passing out, so he returned to his towel, chugging his water bottle.

In a moment of weakness, he glanced at Mickey, only to find him already staring. Mickey tilted his head towards the main building and quietly dismissed himself to go on his break.

Ian knew.

He wasn't that stupid. He knew Mickey wanted him to follow. And he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea. All the while, his feet took him closer.

The building felt even hotter than the outside, the AC must've gone out and no one bothering to replace it.

This was a bad idea.

Ian was just about to turn around and leave when he heard the click of a lock.

"'Bout fuckin' time," Mickey stalked forward, eyes raking up and down Ian's body appreciatively.

Ian was putty.

He groaned as he let himself be pulled forward by the hips. "Didn't know you were a lifeguard?"

He sighed as Mickey toyed with the band of his shorts in between his tattooed fingers. His nails scraping dully against his sides.

"Dad got shanked. Family business went under. Had to go legal." Mickey's hands moved upwards as he raked his fingers through the sides of Ian's still-wet hair, gripping onto the back of his neck. Ian slid his own hands up Mickey's back, pushing his red tank top up with it, exposing his pale skin.

"Missed this." It was a whisper.

Ian attached his lips to the side of Mickey's neck briefly, tasting remnants of salt, chlorine, and sunscreen, before Mickey sunk down to his knees. Ian's hands were now gripping dark hair, and he was sure that the rocky pavement of the unfinished building had to be digging into Mickey's skin, but he made no sounds of discomfort.

Sure, he missed this, but he missed him more, not that he could say that.

On the walk home, the sun was hanging low in the sky and both Gallaghers' cheeks were sunburnt pink.

"Did ya have fun?" Ian asked, knocking his empty water bottle against the top of Debbie's head.

She scrunched her face up, but replied with some pep in her voice. "Yeah! Today the hot life guard actually looked at me! Maybe bringing you around was good luck."

No way in hell Ian was going to out Mickey to his little sister, let alone out himself. He put on a big-brother reassuring smile and changed the subject.

"Good luck for you maybe. I lost literally all of our competitions today!"

She giggled, "That was all skill, not luck. Frank's been helping me practice!"

Frank? Maybe Ian needed to spend a little more time at home. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing Ian hadn't been spending a lot of time at home.

Ian left after dinner unannounced, taking his well-worn trail to the baseball dugouts.

When he approached the field, he noticed a small orange flame illuminating the man's face and a cloud of smoke fog through the chained fence. He smirked.

"Couldn't get enough the first round?" Ian taunted, announcing his presence as he leapt over the fence, an old habit.

"Fuck you, man," Mickey scoffed and blew his smoky breath in Ian's grimacing face.

"Oh I think you plan on it." He stepped closer.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Ian plucked the cigarette out of Mickey's fingers. "Can't have you with bad lungs, then what will all the poor defenseless swimmers do without a capable lifeguard?"

"Let 'em drown," Mickey smacked Ian's cigarette out of his hands and closed the distance between them.

"It would crush your groupies to know you care so little," Ian murmured against his neck.

"This is a bad idea," Mickey breathed, tugging at Ian's crumpled shirt.

"The worst," Ian yanked his shirt fully off.

Mickey pulled back, eyeing Ian's now-bare back.

"Mmm, no sunburn. That would've ruined my plans." Mickey smiled smugly.

Oh shit.

Ian swallowed. He was already way too far off the deep end. Luckily for them both, Mickey knew how to swim.

#every time i write it gets slightly smuttier skskjfndkjnf #my posts #gallavich #a.u.gust #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #debbie gallagher #carl gallagher #ian x mickey #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction #shameless

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ickymichi · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

<3 warning: none really! just slight mentions of nsfw but nothing brutal, swearing, v slight angst, mentions of insecurity.

<3 things to know!: set in the timeskip, unless i’m like ‘this was back in high school’. (implied female) reader and issei are in an established relationship.

<3 summary!: headcannons i have about issei and his appearance/body. :)

<3 a/n: see i genuinely had no idea what to call this. like it’s headcannons that i have about issei’s appearance/body?. and also to make some of the things named more normalised and to make ppl see how attractive they make ppl. reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

all contents belongs to hotboyissei 2021. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒: listen to this okay. issei with freckles on his shoulders. beautiful i know. but just imagine it. those nice broad shoulders with thousands of freckles scattered across them from years of tanning and getting sunburned on the beach while on holidays or just from the numerous summers he spent in your backyard getting a tan. just running your hands across them seeing how some of them connected to form a bigger one. he always tells you it tickles. but never says stop. also in summer he gets them on his face from the sun.

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒: he definitely had them on like the part of his back where his arm meets his shoulders, on the under side of his biceps and definitely got some on his ass cause boy got cake. but he’s insecure about them and used to hate wearing tank tops cause you could see them. but you told him how much you love them and how cool they look. now mf thinks he’s hot shit (as he should) and walks around your house in them or just shirtless. if you have some to he would literally always be telling you how attractive it is. literally constantly.

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑: he definitely is on the hairier side. like he got hairy ass legs let me tell you, but it thins out when it gets to his thighs a bit. definitely waxes or shaves his ass idc idc, was scared from this one time he was watching porn and it just got a shot of the guys hairy ass and he was disgusted. but also he got like, not a lot to where he has to constantly wax it, but a nice amount of chest hair, like it’s only on his pecs not on his stomach you know?. side story!: it was like, two months after you started dating and you were having a movie night at his and you were staying over. makki convinced, i mean convinced him you were going to have sex for the first time. so issei being afraid you’d think his chest hair is unattractive he booked a chest wax and made makki come with him. he recorded the whole thing and showed you two years later, big bad matsukawa issei himself, screaming from pain and nearly breaking makki’s hand with the grip he had on it. end of side story :). his happy trail? pheww that shit idky it’s just attractive to me for some reason. also has a bit of stubble but he shaves it cause of one time in third year he was just really lazy that week and didn’t shave and when the four of them went to go to the cinema on saturday oikawa said: “who’s uncles coming our way?”. from then on he never goes out with to them without shaving beforehand. if you tell him you find it attractive he’d grow it out a small bit just to see your reaction. but if you said you don’t like it he’d do it anyway to annoy you.

𝐀𝐂𝐍𝐄: high school issei definitely had acne. not like major but had some on his cheeks and his back. he hated it sm cause all his friends never had a problem with it. until you told him it doesn’t matter if he has it for not he’s still seggsy as fuck. now timeskip issei? not as much. he made sure to start taking care of his skin halfway through high school. that is until masks became a thing, poor guy has a love hate relationship with them now.

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: listen, issei eats. mf has the biggest appetite you’ve ever seen. ceo of “you eating that?”. every time you see him on the couch he either has a bag of crisps, chocolate, popcorn, leftovers from last night or a takeout he ordered in his lap. man just loves food (i relate ‘sei dw). but all that eating makes boy bloat like crazy. like, he has a fast metabolism so mf never gains weight that much🙄. but he could literally eat half a sharing bar of chocolate and suddenly he’s eight weeks pregnant. also, he didn’t know what bloating was until you finished a movie night and mf took half the popcorn, had his own bag of jellies and three of the small multipack chocolate bars. so when he undressed for his shower and caught a glimpse of his stomach that normally only has a bit of pudge, pushed out to where it looks like he gained weight over night he has a stroke. this how shiz went down:

“(Y/N)!!” you literally sprinted to the bathroom thinking he fell or sum. “what issei? what happened?!”. “have i, have i always been this big?” “what? you look like you always do”. the distressed noise he let out along with him fake stumbling and grabbing the counter had you confused. “i look pregnant! what do you mean i always look like this? we’re getting a treadmill or at home gym or whatever i need to get back to how i was. good lord i really let myself go.” he ran a hand across his face while rubbing his stomach and looking in the mirror. then it hit you. “oh my god you fucking idiot, you do realise how much shit you are right? your just bloated.” “bloated? the fuck is that?”. you then spent the next fifteen minutes sitting on the toilet seat explaining what bloating was while he showered.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇: i just know baby don’t got teeth that look like a fresh set of veneers. and it’s not like they crazy crooked, just slightly that you barley notice unless you’re up close and stare at his mouth. but because he’s always looking at himself it’s the first thing he sees. this leads to him covering his mouth whenever he laughs and only slightly smirking or lifting his mouth to a small closed lip smile when he’s told to smile. everytime he has to take a picture with his family one of his auntie who’s taking it shouts: “smile issei!” every time. and he always says: “i am though”which leads to his getting pinched in the side by his mother and her telling him: “fucking smile properly before i whoop your ass” through gritted teeth while she smiles brightly herself. he grew to not care as much when, you again, told him you love his smile when he threw his head back instead of covering his mouth when you told him a funny story.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒/𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐒: heavenly i know, but bby doesn’t completely agree. we all know boy thick especially those gorgeously thick thighs! but he just thinks they’re too thick. he’s used to seeing oikawa and makki’s slender ones, so when he stands in front of the mirror in a pair of swim shorts he bought and they’re swinging on his waist but about to rip around his thighs he can feel himself start to tear up. and then, what a suprise, you walk in!

~ start story:)): “ ‘sei! you ready to go, oh are you okay?”. he whips his head around to see you standing in the doorway in the swim set you just bought your self. ‘god you look so good’ he thinks to himself. “uh yeah yeah i’m good just need a few minutes these uh, they don’t fit.” he brings a hand to his face and uses his index finger and thumb to wipe the tears in the corner of his eyes. “oh well then you can just tie the strings, that’s what they’re there for, i told you to go a size down silly”. you stand infront of him and start to tie the strings in the shorts around his waist. “no doll, they aren’t to big, they’re to small look” he motions his head to the way they’re straining around his thighs and he just wants to start crying again. “oh i see, we’ll theres nothing we can do there , is there? we’ll just buy another pair on the way.” how? he thinks. how are you not laughing in his face that his legs are to fat to fit in a pair of shorts that are 2 sizes to big for him? “i know what you’re thinking,” your soft voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “why is she not laughing at me huh? she probably thinks i’m fuckin’ ugly” you do your best to mimic his deep voice but just sound silly trying, making him let out a small laugh. “how many times have i told you how much i adore your legs hm? how many times have i done, such oh so sinful things on them while going on about how much i love them?. to many to count issei. so next time you think all those silly bad thoughts just think of me and every time i tell you nice things about them!”. now he’s definitely crying, but this time over how much your words helped him. and now he feels like a million dollars as he struts across the beach to the three men waiting for you with his neon orange shorts tied around his waist and clinging to his thighs. end story :))~

jesus i forgot about his legs. anyway, all his life he’s been told how ‘lanky he is’ and how long his legs are. this makes him feel like shit really,most of his jeans stop above his anlke so the only type of socks he had is the long ones that he uses to hide his ankles fromm people, making them think he has the perfect size. he’ll never forget the time he spent hours shopping with his mother and trying on countless pairs of trousers for an upcoming wedding that and they stop above his ankle. he feels embarrassed really, seeing the fitter tell him they can just get them custom made, but it’ll cost more plus the original price. watching how distressed his mother gets when he tells her how much it’ll be. he doesn’t want his mother spending that much money on a pair of trousers he’ll wear once so he butts in saying it’s fine and he’ll deal with it by wearing black socks and no one will notice. the same exact problem happens several years later except in his mother’s place is makki along with oikawa and iwa, watching him get fitted for your wedding. he tells himself ‘think of (y/n), think of (y/n) and how much she says she loves your legs’ but it’s hard to when all the other men have no problem finding the perfect suit size. he doesn’t want to pay extra for a custom suit but that’s what it looks like is going to happen.

-end <3

#🤍.issei #🧸.soft times #🍬.hcs #matsukawa issei imagines #matsukawa imagines #matsukawa issei x reader #mattsun fluff #mattsun smut #matsukawa #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #mattsun x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #matsukawa headcanons #matsukawa fic #haikyuu matsukawa

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Fox Hunting P1

TV SHOW ACCUSED COUPLE JAKE X READER RATING: SMUTTY

I finished off from work and locked up the little shop behind me given I was the last one still here and the day shift guys wouldn't be in for a couple more hours. I hurried down the cracked old streets the sun still rising slowly, the streetlamps going out as I walked through. I arrived at my little apartment and locked up behind me having myself a little nap as I usually did. when I woke I had myself a hot bubble bath making sure to clean myself up and relax my body, I didn't bother with much makeup nothing more than my eyeliner, my mascara and the bright orange highlighter I always put on when I got out for.... 'Fox hunting', I got dressed into my little orange and red plaid skirt, and my white crop top, I got a jacket making sure to cover myself up, I put my nice socks and my trainers on as I knew I would be running, I didn't take a big bag there wasn't much of a point.

I locked up and headed down to the street wondering though towards the bus stop, as I was standing there, I felt a hand on my ass I glanced beside me and saw an older man clearly on his way to an office job, his tan trench coat on his arm hiding where his hand was I glared at him and he winked at me so I took his hand and pushed his hand away slightly crushing his hand

"come on won't you smile for me, sweetheart?"

"go fuck yourself," I told him, as the bus arrived so I got on and paid for my ticket, I went sitting at the back on the top level away from people watching the world go by for a while watching as we headed out of the town stopping at all the little stops along the way as we headed away from one-stop I saw a familiar face as she climbed the stairs

"Hi Y/n" she smiled in her little orange dress her little ears headband on

"Hi Lillian" I smiled as she sat down beside me

"You excited?"

"always"

"I love when we go play fox hunting" she giggled "I hope Luke catches me this time"

"again?"

"I like when he catches me" she smiled "who caught you last time?"

"Sam"

"Ohhh, who do you want this time?"

"I don't care that's not the point" I giggled

"I guess so" she nods "Ooohhh... Jake's there. he's asking if you're coming?"

"He's sweet, he just pouts because he's always last" I giggled

"I know, poor thing," she says

once we got to the stop we both climbed off the bus and Lillian called a taxi for us as it was a little too far to walk, once the taxi arrived we climbed in

"you're the third set of people we've driven up there today" the driver explained "You guys having some kinda party up there? little like wood rave or something?"

"something like that yeah" I giggled once we arrived at the little farmhouse it was once an old barn on his family's land that Alex had since converted into his out little house, we paid thanked the driver and headed out instantly spotting everyone else

"Lillian! Hello baby" sam smirked giving her a cuddle

"Y/n I missed you so badly!" Luke smirked as he saw me everyone said there hellos as we usually did and then Alex spoke up.

"So… everyones here" he smirked.

It didn't take long for it to begin everyone finishing the snacks on the house and using the bathroom beforehand we all went to the back garden that sat with the woods open to it I stood as usual with the girls between Lillian and missy with Ella on the end, and of course across from us the boys Luke, alex, sam, Mike and jake on the end I caught him looking at me but that was pretty normal I think Jake has a crush on me but I don't know he's never said anything about it to me or made a sort of move so I don't know, everyone got sorted putting there bags in the house as well as there jackets and Alex smirked with his little...not sure what it is like a fake toy trumpet I guess that makes a little toot noise

"Now. I'm sure as all of us have been…. Hunting before I need not remind you of the rules" Alex explained

"One more time" sam spoke up as he was the newest to join us

"Fine. Today we embark on the hunt. We have five hunters and four beautiful foxes. Momentarily we will get ready and then begin the hunt. The foxes get a twenty minute head start running into the woods, after twenty minutes the hunters can give chase to the little foxes. When you catch yourself a fox well… you can do whatever you want with your prize. But of course four foxes and five hunters someone will not catch a fox" he explained before fake coughing "jake. And whoever that may be gets to come back to the farm house in shame and pays for dinner" he explained "no cheating, no waiting up for each other, and no fighting you get whatever little fox you catch" he explained

"It's not my fault I'm always last! I've got little legs and asthma!" Jake complained

"Yeah yeah, go on then phones" Alex spoke up as he came around with the little tin box and everyone put their phones inside "sign away" he smirked passing around a note pad it didn't say much and wasn't exactly like a contract it was just given… how intense the boys can be it just covers there backs if everyone signs their names on the notepad as a consent agreement. Once everyone had signed luke came around with the big tub he began with Ella she giggled and slipped her panties off from under her skirt, then mossy did the same and Lillian and I smirked tugging my own off leaving them in the tub with the others noticing as I did jake was definitely starting his jeans providing he was already hard from just watching.

Luke took the tub to the house with the phone box but seemed to be taking a while

"Luke! You better not be sniffing the tub you gross little perv!" Mike yelled to him

"How about you mind your own damn business!" He yelled back before returning

"When the horn blows the little foxes can run"

"Horn?" Sam giggled

"It's my blower shit up" Alex told him "one. Two…" he made it sound and of course all four of us girls bolted as fast as possible into the woods.

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dontattackmeplease · 3 years

Text

hinata shoyo x f!reader

tw > cock ring use, overstimulation, darcryphillia, bondage, fingering

wc <

a/n ~ it is not proof read, thanks for reading! submit some shit in my asks. cmon im boredddd

everyone knew about them.

everyone knew how much they hated each other. proved with how many insults went back and forth between them.

everyone knew they were nothing alike. her, bad grades, smokes and skips classes. him, good grades, clean and a volleyball addict.

her hair a fake black, his a natural orange. she wore all black no matter the weather, he wore casual outfits depending on the weather.

everyone knew about their hatred for each other but no one knew why that hatred was there.

no one knew what they did.

no one knew about their late night escapades.

no one knew about her breath lingering on his face as he edged her into overstimulation.

[ "shoyo" she breathed lowly.

he felt it linger and the pit of his stomach heat up in lust and something else he couldn't figure it out.

he twitched his fingers as she whined at the burning sensation of being in this position for over 2 hours.

"cmon pretty girl, a little while longer then I'll praise you" ]

no one knew the days where he was crying as she ground on his cock while he was wearing a cock ring.

[ she was cruel.

there he sat in all his smooth tanned skin glory tied up against the bed rail, crying at the his orgasm that keeps disappearing.

"aww poor baby, why are you crying. do you need to cum that much? hmm" he cried more and nodded pathetically. "we can't have that now can we" she moved her hips more roughly and managed to graze the tip of his dick that she was originally avoiding.

he whined and jutted his hips to get more friction, to which she stopped moving and grabbed his chin.

"dont think about moving baby" ]

no one knew they both begged each other for release... and then denying.

{her}

[ "shoyo please" she pleaded as her tears cascaded down her face.

he couldn't help but find that so pretty as she begged to cum, twitching and trembling beneath him.

he cooed in her ear but she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his hips flush against her. her eyes rolled back into her head as the tip of his cock nestled in the neck of her womb.

"you cock - hungry slut, i told you to wait, your in for it now bitch" he feigned his anger and grabbed her neck.

he never acted like this, she was surprised but it was good ]

{him}

[ he trembled beneath her as she sighed from her orgasm. he twitched pathetically yet glared at her with such intensity a shiver ran up her spine.

"glare at me again and I'll leave you like this"

she smirked at the helplessness when she started getting off him. she praised on how pretty he looked beneath her. the bind that held his hands together was teared and he flipped her over.

"you look pretty under me too" he slammed his hips into her, the warmth of the cavern that he was neglected by, caused him to groan. "your in for it now princess" ]

no one knew about how much they hated that they loved being each others embraces.

he didnt know that she lied.

[ "i hate you" ]

she didnt know that he lied.

[ "i hate you too" ]

but they wanted it to stay that way...

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #hinata shoyo #hinata #smut #hinata smut #hinata x reader #weird format but im down #cool #THANKS FOR READING!!!#ihope #luv u #enimies-to-lovers #ish #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x f! reader #f!reader

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deja-you · 3 years

Text

Starlight

m. de lafayette x reader

chapter three | romeo and alpha

summary: it was never your intent to be anything more than a common thief, but fate -- and a rather attractive general -- have other plans for you.

word count: 1.8k

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In the months following your mission on Hesse, you only got better and better at your job. You learned the ins and outs of Philian nightlife, and you were proud to say you were getting more used to jobs on foreign planets. Mostly, you were getting more used to Lafayette and his division of soldiers. In between missions, you had time to lay low at headquarters, and the soldiers quickly became brothers to you.

As all siblings like to do, the soldiers would do their best to pull pranks and tease you when the occasion occurred. The growing relationship–you might even call it friendship–with the man who you had stolen from just a few months ago didn’t go unseen by the men in Lafayette’s division.

“We’ve compiled the information needed for your mission with Alpha,” Hamilton says, sliding a tablet across Lafayette’s desk for him to read.

Alpha–the squadron had affectionately given you the codename; named for the capital, Alpha Cersei, of the tiny planet you had grown up on. You wore the name with pride.

“Anything important I should know?” Lafayette asks as he begins scrolling through the information.

Hamilton coughs softy and nudges Laurens, who in turn nudges Mulligan. Mulligan shoots the other two men a dirty look, but nonetheless steps forward: “Well, the thing is… We thought it would be best, well… well why don’t you tell him, Hamilton?”

“Me? I put this together!”

“That’s why you should be the one to tell him!”

Lafayette sets the tablet down rather unceremoniously. “Would one of you just spit it out?”

A beat of silence.

“We… well, Hamilton decided that a couple of newlyweds would be a rather convincing cover for this particular mission,” Laurens finally says.

“Oh so now it was my idea, huh?” Hamilton says with irritation. “It was our idea when you thought it was funny.”

Lafayette looks between the three men incredulously before looking back down at the tablet to read further into the details. “You didn’t seriously…”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Hercules says (and he says it in a way that makes Lafayette think that the next thing he’s about to say won’t make him feel better at all), “we made sure to book you and Alpha the honeymoon suite. The reviews are great. Supposed to be very ro-man-tic.”

Hamilton and Laurens fail to hide their snickering, but Lafayette silences the two of them with a sharp look. He rests his forehead in his hand when the information he’s reading on the tablet confirms everything his soldiers told him.

“This is the last time I put any of you in charge of mission details,” Lafayette mutters.

“That’s not fair, we gave you a cool codename,” Laurens points out.

Hamilton’s eyes light up and he nods in agreement. “We did! Do you want to hear it?”

“Do I?”

“You’re Romeo,” Hercules says, and the three of them grin widely like it’s the cleverest thing they’ve ever come up with.

“Romeo?” You push open the door and take a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lafayette’s desk that you’ve grown accustomed to. You size Lafayette up with a look, noting how flustered he seems. “Are you a fan of Shakespeare, or somethin’?”

“Actu—” Laurens starts, but Lafayette silences him with a glare.

“Yes. Love Shakespeare. Laurens, Mulligan, and Hamilton were just about to leave.” His words are clipped and the three soldiers seem to understand him, quickly filing out the door in a fit of laughter, but not before muttering something about leaving the two of you alone together.

You raise an eyebrow at their strange behavior but shrug it off. You turn to face Lafayette and give him a mock salute. “Alright, general. Brief me on my mission.”

“Our mission, actually,” he corrects.

This surprises you. “You’re coming with? Ah, I suppose that makes sense. Hence the codename. Alright, Romeo, brief me on our mission.”

The codename catches him off-guard, but he doesn’t let it show. “There’s a British officer who has happened to obtain some… important information concerning future battle plans. We’ve been told he’s staying at a resort on Ambros while his ship is being repaired.”

“So we’re going to steal the information back before he can get it to New Britannia?”

“Exactly.”

“What’s our cover?”

“There’s more information on here,” Lafayette says, handing you the tablet, “but basically… we’re honeymooners.”

You pause, look up at him with wide eyes, then snort loudly. “You’re going to be my husband?”

He frowns at you. “Is there something funny about that?”

“No, of course not.” Your laughter contradicts your words. “It’s just that… you and I, well… we’d make an interesting pair?”

“Don’t worry, starlight, you’ll only have to put up with me for the length of the mission.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t you think the situation is a little bit humorous?” You flash him a grin and his expression softens a little. “So should I meet you at the loading dock tomorrow morning, then?”

“Yes,” he nodded. Then, remembering something, Lafayette reached down and opened up a drawer, pulling out a little box. He set it on the desk in front of you.

“What’s this?”

“We’re married. You should have a ring.” He shrugs like it was obvious.

Gingerly, you open the box and your mouth falls open when you see the large diamond in front of you. The ring probably costs more than anything you’ve ever owned, and Lafayette is just giving it to you. You look from the ring to him in shock, and he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to try it on. You slide it onto your finger, and it just happens to fit perfectly.

“Wow” is all you manage to say as you admire the way it sparkles on your hand. You grin and your eyes meet Lafayette’s with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!”

Lafayette rolls his eyes at your antics, but he can’t help but smile. “Is it too early to file for divorce?”

You wave him off as a thought suddenly occurs to you. “I’ve got to go show the boys my engagement ring! I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early, sweetheart.”

With that, you sweep out of the room and moments later, Lafayette can hear Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan all laughing and congratulating you on the fake engagement. Lafayette shakes his head, but he is incapable of wiping the smile off his face.

The flight to Ambros is short, and you and Lafayette spend most of the trip going over your cover in more detail. Lafayette is more focused on the important details: the name and appearance of your target, strategies, etc. You, on the other hand, argue that it’s just as important to come up with a believable background: how long the two of you have been together, where you got married, who your maid of honor was. You’re mostly teasing, but it would be beneficial to the both of you if your stories lined up.

“How did you propose? I think you took me back to the place we first met,” you muse.

“No, no. Not the place we first met. The place I first realized I loved you,” he suggests.

You look up at him, amusement playing on your features. “Oh, that’s much better.”

“Yes, and you had no idea. And I told you that ‘this is where I fell in love with you’ and suddenly I was down on one knee.”

“Our love story really is the sweetest, isn’t it?”

He nods. “The very best.”

You admire the ring on your hand and a thought occurs to you. “Do you just happen to keep wedding rings in your desk for impromptu proposals? Or… is there someone you were going to propose to?”

Lafayette shakes his head. “That was my mother’s ring.”

Your jaw drops when he says this. You’ve heard the stories about Lafayette’s past. Both of his parents died when he was young, leaving him one of the wealthiest Francos on the planet. Maybe he left Francosia because he had no family left there. Maybe it was something else. You don’t ask.

“This is your mother’s ring? I can’t wear this! Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask.

“We’re supposed to be married, starlight. Unless you’ve got a different ring in your pocket you’d prefer, I think our options are rather limited,” he says plainly.

You see the logic in his statement, but you’re still shocked he would trust you with his mother’s ring. “Yes, I understand, it’s just… this is something important to you. You just gave it to me.”

“Should I be worried about giving it to you?” He teases. “Were you planning on stealing it?”

“Well, now I’m not going to,” you say under your breath.

This elicits a chuckle from Lafayette. “My mother would’ve liked you. If anyone was going to wear her ring, I think she would’ve been glad it was you.”

Lafayette stands when the orange Ambrosian sea begins to cast hued light through the window, but his comment isn’t lost on you. For some reason, your chest grows all warm at the thought that his mother would’ve liked you.

“We’re going to be landing soon, we should both get changed,” Lafayette says.

He’s right. You’re wearing plain tan clothes, hardly suitable for the wife of a wealthy businessman. Lafayette is still wearing his white Amerigo Army uniform; he’ll have to change for obvious reasons. You give him a nod, getting up to your personal quarters to get changed.

For this mission, you’ve packed a closet of outfits that you would never have worn back home on Philia. Evening gowns, dresses that are equal parts too short and too sparkly, gold and silver necklaces, shoes you don’t understand how to put on, much less walk in. You decide you’ll wear one of your simpler options: a black gown that hugs your torso before cascading to the ground in waves, a slit exposes your left leg up to your mid-thigh. When you’re finished getting ready, you catch sight of your reflection in your mirror, and a surge of confidence flows through you. You look beautiful.

When you step back onto the bridge, the look on Lafayette’s face reaffirms your thoughts. His lips part as he takes in your appearance, eyes widening slightly before he remembers that it’s not polite to stare. He clears his throat.

“You look… nice,” he says.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you reply. You mean it. Lafayette has changed out of his usual uniform into a fitted suit of all black. A flash of deep red catches your eye when he adjusts his pocket square. He’s wearing the colors of the New Britannia flag; it’s all in the subtle details. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen him in civilian clothes. You decide you like it.

“Shall we?” Lafayette offers you an arm.

You smile and take it, pulling yourself to his side. “Of course, darling.”

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#lafayette x reader #daveed x reader #marquis de lafayette #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton imagines #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfic #hamilton x reader #reader insert #slowburn #enemies to friends to lovers #spy!reader #spaceau #scifiau

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outerbankswriting · 4 years

Text

Could it be? Chapter 3 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

CHAPTER 3

The sound of the birds chirping outside your window woke you up. A classic sound that never failed to make you fall more in love with your mornings.

As you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of of tanned and strong arms wrapped around you, which belonged to the boy with the golden hair you loved so much. He was peacefully asleep, his chest slowly rising up and down while his eyelashes fluttered every now and then. You carefully examined his face and felt a wave of anger fill you up as you stared at the cuts and bruises all over his cheeks.

The bruise on his left eye was turning purple and you don’t know what instinct got into you that made you softly trace your fingers across his face, careful to not hurt him or wake him up, but you failed at it.

His eyes slowly opened up and yours widened up, and you felt yourself starting to blush.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you covered your mouth, “did I hurt you?”

He smiled lazily and to your surprise, pulled you even closer to him.

“Not really,” his voice was raspy and he closed his eyes again, “it actually feels nice, can you keep doing it?”

You bit your lip to contain the smile that wanted to get out and instead poked his side, making his eyes snap wide open.

“Hey! What was that for?!”

“Get your lazy ass up.”

As much as you wanted to stay in bed with JJ, the two of you were supposed to meet with the Pogues in less than an hour for breakfast and you knew they would get suspicious if neither of you showed up. Even though, no one knew about your feelings for JJ and probably would never even imagine the two of you being something.

“I can skip breakfast,” he groaned, “your bed is too comfy, I want to stay here.”

“No you won’t skip breakfast.”

You got out of bed, pulled your hair into a quick ponytail and headed into your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. JJ was still laying down in bed with his eyes closed and you took the time to admire the sight in front of you. The sunlight making his blonde hair look golden and him looking angelic even with his face all bruised up.

“Come on JJ, get up!”

He groaned again but finally got out of bed after you threatened to poke his sides again. He went to the bathroom to get ready while you were deciding on which swimsuit to wear.

“Why do you have so many lotions here?” He said while brushing his teeth and clearly making a mess all over your sink.

“They’re not only lotions,” you grabbed the expensive cream he was holding and placed it back on the counter, “they’re also creams, toners and liquid soaps all part of my skincare routine.”

“Do you even need all of this?” He dried his face with your pink towel, making you giggle.

“Of course I do,” you grabbed the tiny cream container and tapped some eye cream on your under-eyes, “I’m practically out in the sun all day, I need to take care of my skin alright?”

“I just put sunscreen on and call it a day.” He curiously stared at you as you finished prepping your face.

“At least you put sunscreen on.”

“What happens if you don’t wear all that?” He was still staring at you, the crease between his eyebrows showing up.

“I would get wrinkles pretty fast and the sun could damage my skin a lot,” you put some lip balm on and felt JJ’s eyes staring at your lips, “my face would be an ugly mess.”

“I doubt you could ever look ugly.” He said carelessly and you felt your cheeks turn red.

JJ was never one to compliment your looks directly to you and if he ever did, it would be as a compliment from a nice friend but nothing more.

“Right,” you cleared your throat, “well talking about skincare, how are your bruises doing?”

He sat on your bed as if he were a child waiting for his mother to sit down next to him to check on him while you went to grab your soothing cream.

“They’re alright, I don’t even feel them.”

“Well show me.”

He slowly took his shirt off and you could tell he was still in pain, especially from the bruises on his stomach near his ribcage. The bruises were a deeper red and purple than last night, looking way worse.

“Oh JJ,” you shook your head and were careful to not hurt him as you rubbed the soothing cream over the bruises, “they look so bad.”

“They’re okay, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You know the others are going to ask about this right? It’s going to be impossible to hide them.”

“I’ll just tell them I ran into some Kooks.”

He put his shirt back on after you were done with the soothing cream and raised an eyebrow at you as you were still standing in front of him, looking at him with a worried look on your face.

“Y/N I’m alright, let’s go.”

He stood up from sitting on the bed and stopped right in front of you since you weren’t moving. You noticed how tall he was next to you and cleared your throat after also noticing how close you were again.

“You can’t go back home.” You looked straight into his eyes which went softer.

“Maybe not tonight but eventually I’ll have to,” he placed his hand comfortably on your shoulder, “he is my father and I can’t stay with John B forever.”

“Then stay with me.”

You were quick to say that. You were scared his father would hit him again, you didn’t want him to go back and be unsafe at a place that wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

“Y/N you kn-“

“At least for this week,” you grabbed his hand, “while my parents are away, come on.”

He paused and hesitated for a minute, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Alright then.”

Once he agreed you couldn’t help the smile taking over your face which made JJ smile back at you. He was secretly way too excited to stay with you for a whole week.

You hugged him, careful to not hurt his bruises but he pulled you closer, tightening the hug without caring about the pain coming from his bruised abdomen.

“Well I’ll go get changed.”

You broke the hug and went inside the bathroom to change into a dark blue bikini and some light denim shorts since you were spending the day at the beach with your friends.

Once the two of you were ready, you headed to the beach to meet your friends and while you were walking you argued whether to tell them about JJ staying with you or coming up with a lie.

“I think they’ll eventually find out.” You desperately ran your fingers through your hair.

“It’s only for a week,” JJ grabbed a beer from your beach bag ignoring the slap you gave him on the hand for wanting alcohol so early in the morning, “we can cover it up.”

“Why should we lie about you staying with me? It just makes the whole thing look suspicious when it isn’t.”

“Because if I had to stay somewhere it would be with John B since you know,” he paused and bit his lip awkwardly, “it’s not like I sleep at girls’ houses if I’m not banging them.”

“Excuse me, what are you trying to say?” You felt insulted for some reason.

“That they would assume we are sleeping together and you know about the no Pogue on Pogue mack-“

“Why would they assume that?!” You playfully punched him on the shoulder, “We’re friends JJ, no one’s going to think that.”

“I’m just saying that’s what I’m assuming they would think.” He jokingly raised his arms as if he were a victim.

“No they wouldn’t.”

“Why are you so closed off at the idea of them thinking that we’re banging?”

“First of all, stop saying banging and uh I don’t know it’s just crazy JJ, they would never believe it.”

“So you wouldn’t do it?”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice trembled and you cursed yourself for it.

“You wouldn’t sleep with me?”

His words almost made you choke and stop walking. Your heart was beating faster than ever and you tried your best to not let the nerves get the best of you and the fact that JJ was eagerly waiting for you to respond just made you even more nervous.

“JJ what even are y-“

“I’m just messing with you Y/N,” he chuckled as you were stuttering with your words, “I think we both know it could never happen, you know.. it’s a crazy thing as you said.”

“Okay that hurt.” You thought.

“Right,” you cleared your throat and faked a laugh, “it’s crazy.”

“I just don’t want them to know about my dad you know?” He gulped down his beer, “So I think it’s best if they just think I’m still staying at home.”

“Alright then, it’ll be our secret.”

He smiled at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him.

“It was about time you showed up!” Kie waved at the two of you while Pope finished drinking an orange juice.

“Literally cannot believe you’re drinking beer so early in the morning.” Pope pointed at JJ’s finished beer.

“Tried to stop him but he’s stubborn.” You said as you sat down next to Kie.

“Oh look the queen of stubbornness is calling me stubborn,” JJ mocked you, “I just had to start the party earlier.”

“Right, at 11 in the morning.” Kie rolled her eyes at him.

“Was the tourist girl you slept with last night into BDSM or why is your face all bruised man?” John B raised an eyebrow at JJ, knowing he had clearly gotten into a fight.

You grabbed an orange juice from Sarah’s bag and tried your best to avoid eye contact with JJ and faked your best “what’s going on?” look.

“Unfortunately I ran into some Kooks and wasn’t even able to bang any girl,” JJ smiled and you felt sick to the stomach realising how good of a liar he was and wondering if he had lied to you before about his fights with the Kooks when it had probably been his father, “but I handled them like a champion.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t my stupid brother.” Sarah sighed.

“I won’t deny anything.” JJ shrugged and Sarah grunted.

“You know ever since you broke up with him, he’s been getting into more fights with us.” Pope shook his head at you.

“It’s not her fault man.” JJ was quick to snap at Pope.

“It’s because he’s still in love with you,” Sarah said to you as she finished her sandwich, “and he can’t stand the fact that you’d rather hang with Pogues.”

“Well I can imagine,” Kie added, “both his sister and his ex-girlfriend being part of this group, which not only consists of Pogues but also Pogues who hate him.”

“Talking about annoying Kooks,” John B joined the conversation again, “I’m afraid they’re coming to the beach party tonight.”

“For hating the Pogues they sure love the parties we throw.” Pope shook his head.

After finishing your breakfast and preparing everything for tonight’s party at the beach, all of you decided to head to your own places to get ready for the party.

“Are we getting ready together Y/N?” Kie asked as she helped you clean the mess everyone had made on the beach.

“Um I don’t know Kie,” you tried to catch JJ’s attention to know if he was heading to your place but he was too busy trying to jump into Pope’s back, “I have to organise some stuff at home.”

“Well if you change your mind you can go to my place, my dad made some delicious lasagna.” She winked at you and made her way home.

You walked towards JJ and Pope to try and figure out JJ’s plan for the night.

“So,” you smiled at your friends, “are y’all hanging out before the party?”

JJ was quick to realise what you were trying to find out.

“Yeah I’m heading over to Pope’s.”

“Wanna come?” Pope asked you.

“No thanks, I have some stuff to do at home before the party.” You smiled at your friend’s offer and he nodded.

“Hey Y/N,” JJ grabbed your arm and pulled you further from Pope so he couldn’t hear, “before heading to the party I’ll quickly go to your place to drop my bag with all my clothes and stuff for the week okay?”

You nodded at him and waved goodbye to your friends.

You took a shower as soon as you got home and decided to clean up your room, not because of JJ or anything right?

You played some music as you did your makeup and waited for JJ to let you know he was outside so you could let him in and the two of you could make your way to the party, but time went by and he still hadn’t shown up.

Kiara texted you telling you to get earlier to the beach so you could help her organise the recycling bins to accumulate the plastic the party would leave so you figured JJ wouldn’t come any time soon and decided to just leave to the party on your own.

As you were closing the front door of your house, you heard someone moving behind you and figured it would be JJ, but as soon as you turned around, you were met with the one person you wanted to see the least.

Rafe Cameron.

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CH.4

A/N: this one was a pretty long one! sorry for any grammar mistakes, I’ll make sure to fix them tomorrow. thank u so much for everyone letting me know you’re liking the story so far! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! sending love.

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taglist: @babygirlizz - @atabigail - @poguesrforlife - @behappyitsemmalie - @jane-dough - @yeeedolan - @dontjinx-it - @sofiaconlaz - @fangirlwithme

#outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx netflix #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #kie x jj #jj #rudy pankow #rafe cameron #jj maybank imagine

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Text

The Bet (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)

The Bet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: M (mature) NSFW

Warnings: gambling, teasing, a little bit of spice

Word count: 3,051

Summary: Game night with team Cap turns up unexpected results.

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday. Thank you for the very lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog

“Hope you’ve all brought a fat wallet tonight,” devilish smirk tipping the corner of her ruby lips upward. “It won’t be that way for long. I plan on parting you from your hard earned cash in spectacular fashion.” Shuffling the deck like a seasoned pro in Vegas and dealing the cards out.

Eyes rolling while sipping your Screw driver, “You gonna talk us to death Romanoff or deal the hand?” Brow lifting, hiding your own smirk behind the high ball glass.

“Just a sore loser Y/N,” blowing you a kiss after finishing the deal. Deck slammed down in the center as everyone grabbing for their cards to look them over.

A few soft groans at the terrible hands dealt, “Your shit at dealing Nat you gave me nothin,” Sam calls from your left between Steve and Wanda.

“Suck it up buttercup you play the hand your dealt,” downing her first shot of vodka. Locking eyes with Steve for a moment, “And watch your mouth…”

“You know what Romanoff that’s getting old,” rolling his green flecked blue eyes, shooting a piece of popcorn towards her head. Only to have it deflected by a quick brush of her hand.

“Children,” fake stern voice utters from beside you long neck meeting those soft lips. Trying very hard not to watch the single drop of condensation slide from bottle to chin, and down the strong expanse of tanned neck. Never being more jealous of a simple drop of water than right now. “Stow the bickering for later in the game when my pile is triple what the rest of yours is.”

A chorus of snorts drown out the music for a moment, “Bucky sweetie in your dreams will that truly happen.” Snarky comment leaves your lips right as Bucky fixes those cerulean eyes on you. Finding it a little difficult to think for a spilt second as you fidget under his heated stare.

“Wanna make a bet?” This time a chorus of groans echo around the table accompanied by head shakes. “It is Wednesday night poker right? Why not make this a little more,” pausing brow lifting giving you a slow perusal his eyes darkening to pitch. “Interesting then just Nat taking our money?”

“Ah you at least acknowledge my superior poker skills good man Barnes,” sassing him with a smirk and the salute of her shot glass. “But I rather not need eye bleach to scrub your naked ass from my memory. Of that I’m sure most around this table would agree.”

Affirmations of the positive echo her words along with chuckles in various lengths. Leaning over while everyone places their bets your turn coming up quickly. “What’s the bet Barnes?”

Maybe its the vodka infused orange juice you’ve been sipping, beer tasting like ass to you. Instead sticking with the harder liquors to pair with the right mix. Drinking isn’t something you’ve done much so maybe it’s having a quicker affect on your system. However, something tells you it has more to do with the man sitting a little too close on your right. Leather and whiskey wrapping around your senes to send tingles across your skin. He’s the reason for your bold question determined to ditch your comfort zone for one night and be a little wild.

Placing a pot bet then turning to watch you do the same, admiring your profile for the moment. Having only admitted to one other person how much he wanted you, Bucky can’t believe you’ve actually asked him for a bet just between the two of you. His mind races with possibilities none more prominent than having you spread out in his bed whimpering his name. Body withering in the pleasure he’s giving you. Your voice bringing him back to the present and trying to clear the lustful thoughts parading through his mind.

“If I win more hands you’ll be mine for the night,” brushing his lips over the shell of your ear pleased smile at hearing the sharp intake of breath from you. Knowing he’s playing with fire at proposing such idea, he could loose his heart to you so quickly and maybe that’s what he wants most. To finally let himself feel something other than pain, anger and remorse. Though that little voice in the back of his mind taunts, you wouldn’t want the ex-assassin with so much blood and death on his hands.

Swallowing harshly you turn to look up into his eyes, “And if I win?” Everyone else disappearing, sounds going mute and all focus is on Bucky. Wishing his winnings wouldn’t be just for a night. That’s right you knew already he’d win since you sucked at poker and only played to hang out with your family instead of just missions and meetings. Happily loosing most Wednesdays just to see the pleased looks on their faces instead of grimaces of pain when patching them up.

“What do you want to win?” Itching to reach out free your bottom lip from being trapped between your teeth and run his thumb over the wet bitten skin.

Throat clearing, to draw both of you back to the game, “You playing or just ogling each other? Either way place your bet or fold so the rest of us can get on with the game Sergeant Frostbite.” Rolling his eyes and downing the last of his beer, Sam stands to get a refill silently asking if anyone else wanted one.

Both of you fold more interested in each other than the usual poker game. Your mind whirling with thoughts, not sure how to answer the bet. Thinking and discarding so many ideas, between asking him to be more careful on missions and to stop baiting Sam with snarky comments and looks. Settling for something your sure would get you into trouble but couldn’t stop yourself.

“Never thought you were that kinky Y/N.” Sweet Sokovian accented voice floats through your mind, head snapping up to look over at a smiling Wanda.

“Your not suppose to be reading minds babe,” for which you get a small shrug and a wicked smile spreading over her lips. Tsking in your head trying to keep from laughing, “Careful I might have to let the mistress of pain know.”

“You wouldn’t? Besides your thoughts were so damn loud I couldn’t help it. I’m surprised the whole table doesn’t hear the both of you,” winking she nods towards Bucky who’s still looking at your expectantly. “Might want to answer Buck before giving him an aneurysm since he’s waiting on bated breath what you’ll ask for.”

Clearing your throat and grabbing up your glass to take a drink, finding Bucky staring. Admiring the way your tongue peeks out to wipe up the left behind bits of orange juice. Shy smile sliding over your lips, eyes darting to the group and finding them arguing over who won the last pot.

“How about a private strip show just for my eyes only Sergeant Barnes?” Nervously swallowing hoping you’ve haven’t asked for too much. But then once would never be enough for you. Needing a repeat performance whenever the mood strikes to accompany being totally wrecked by this man who haunts your dreams.

“Tell him, you’ll be surprised at his answer,” Wanda urges then falls silent as another hand is dealt by Sam this time. She gives you another wink returning her attention to the game.

Biting off the groan of arousal, shifting in his seat to adjust himself and the bite of his jeans against his hardening cock. “I think…” irritated growl leaving his mouth when Sam tossed a balled up napkin at his head. Dead center hit to Bucky’s forehead making everyone cheer around the table. Getting a scowl from the man in question, “What?”

“Your turn Frostbite or have you forgot the game already?” Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the look Bucky sends him. Knowing the shared unrequited feelings you’ve both harbored for each other. “Has old age finally caught up to you old man?”

“I don’t think it’s the age that’s caught up with him Sam,” Steve grins for which Bucky cuts his eyes at his best friend.

“Value your life Rogers and all the secrets I keep about your pre-serum days you’ll keep that mouth shut,” threat empty as everyone knew but Steve still gives him a mock hurt expression.

Hand to his chest, “You won’t buddy?” Seeing the lifted brow cerulean eyes dart towards Nat and back to Steve’s who catches the wordless meaning. “Fuck off jerk.”

“Steven Grant Rogers did you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Natasha exclaimed biting her lip to keep the laughter from rolling out.

“Then keep your mouth shut Steve.” Bucky shot back with a taunting grin spreading across his face at Nat’s words.

Playful gasp leaving your lips, “I never thought I’d hear those kind of words uttered from your good boy lips Steve.”

“Good boy?” Snorting Bucky holds his stomach as a full belly laugh leaves his lips at the very thought. “Doll he’s got you all fooled. Hook lined and reeled in,” glancing at you for a moment then back at Steve. “You gotta quite acting all saintly Steven you’ll never get laid.”

Chocking on his beer, wiping at the mess, while his eyes throw daggers at Bucky. “Keep it up Buck and you’ll find a shield up side your head next mission.”

Peels of laughter sound around the table drowning out the music, a beet red Steve just gapping at his family in fake astonishment. Sam’s slumped forward head resting on his forearms while gruff deep chuckles sound from him. Wanda wide eyed but soft giggles leave her as Natasha full out belly laughs, slamming a hand down on the table. Disturbing the poker chips and cards, glasses and bottles wiggling in there spots. While you’ve managed to pull your phone out and snap a few quiet pictures to save and send Clint. Who’s missing all the action while out on his own mission. Mirth dances in your eyes that lock with Bucky’s. Lips parting on a soft gasp of surprise with how he’s staring at you. Heat flaring to life across your body and you swallow trying to regain some moisture to your parched throat.

Leaning over, “We’ve got a deal doll, prepare to loose though.” Glancing back at the table seeing everyone still recovering from their laughter, Bucky uses that moment to press closer. Placing his slightly chapped lips to your cheek, “If there’s one thing Romanoff got right it’s that I’m a sore looser. I play to win,” dragging those sinful lips away to sit back in his chair. Cards resting now between those large hands.

Hands you wish were somewhere else right this moment, soothing the arch building between your thighs that rub together in the bid to find some kind of friction on your clit. Marveling at how quickly that simple brush of his lips could turn you into a pile of goo in your own seat.

Clearing your throat, “Bring it on Buck this time I may just have a reason to win as many hands as I can.”

Gauntlet tossed down with the raise of his brow. Determination coats your veins especially when he gives you a very heated once over. Scorching your very soul with the intensity making you throb, clit jumping at the very promise those wickedly beautiful eyes held. Watching the way his fingers caress the long neck bottle in his flesh hand. Bringing the brown glass to his lips for a deep drink.

Savoring the taste more than any effects it could have on him. “Careful doll face those who play with fire usually get burned,” eyes lock with yours licking those sinfully plush lips.

Glancing between his lips and eyes, your own smirk tugging your mouth upward. Free hand coming to rest on Bucky’s thigh, the heat of your palm burning his jeans covered skin. Shifting in his seat to relieve the pressure on his cock with the touch of your hand. “Don’t worry none James,” voice a soft purr in his ear. “I have salves of all kinds that’ll take care of a burn. It’s the ache I need taken care of. There’s no medication to take accept my own fingers to help sooth the pressure.” Drawing patterns over his thigh, feeling tension held tightly in those delicious muscles you wouldn’t say no to feeling between your thighs.

A bit shocked with how forward your being. His reactions only spurring on your need to see just how far you could push him before he snaps and finally takes you. Asking yourself for the thousandth time if once would state the desire you have for this man? Wanting to have more than friendship between you though you’d take it and run. But there’s a part of you which wants more, to open your heart and share it with Bucky. You only hope he feels the same way.

For a second Bucky’s mute ignoring the calls from Sam and Steve to stare at you, mouth hanging open. Only to close with a challenge flaring in his cerulean eyes. “You sure about what your offering sweetheart?” Hating to ask but not wanting to miss understand you or the intentions swimming through your mind that he’s not privy to yet.

“As sure as the next breath I’ll be taking,” moving your hand from his thigh to rest on his vibranium forearm. Looking up into his eyes, soft smile gracing your lips that turn into a squeal. Ice sliding down the front of your shirt, cutting your eyes towards the rest of the table all of whom are pretending to not see anything. All except Natasha who’s just giving you a Cheshire Cat grin. Jumping to your feet, shaking your shirt to get the ice out. Only to have it caught in your bra melting against your heated skin, peaking your nipples. Scowling at the red head, “Your dead to me Romanoff,” playfully glaring at her before taking off towards the kitchen.

Not realizing Bucky is following you have your hand down the front of your shirt trying to fish the cube out when he clears his throat. “Need help?” Wicked grin pulling across his lips.

Licking your own at the heat flaring through your body and in his eyes, “It’s a slipper little devil.” Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling hard as Bucky steps towards you. Crowding you against the counter, planting his hands on either side of your body.

“Maybe it’ll help if you take off the shirt?” Tugging the black AC/DC shirt twice, flesh hand teasing along your side under the shirt.

Gulping to gather air into your starved lungs, shivering as the ice moves against your skin pebbled nipple starting to tent your bra and t-shirt. Distracting Bucky as his gaze drops and his hand moves upward. Sliding two fingers just under the wire and cup of your bra to snag the cube. Pressing it to your nipple, melting the ice between the heat of his fingers and your body.

“Tell me to stop and I will doll face. I won’t do anything you don’t want,” words puffing from his lips that are just inches from yours.

“You stop and I’ll have to hurt you James,” hissing turned whimper as those talented fingers wrap around your nipple and tug. Desire fogged brain only barely registering your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, embracing his body to pull him closer.

Grinning right behind his mouth claims yours. Desperate and passion fueled, licking his tongue against the seam of your lips. Which open on a gasp Bucky having found the front clasp of your bra and popped it open to cup and massage your breast. Weighting the generous globe before rolling the pebbled nipple between his fingers. Giving a light pinch to gage your reaction. Confirming whimper has an answering growl from deep within his chest. Vibranuim arm tightly wrapping around your waist as you damn near suck his tongue into your mouth tangling together for play and pleasure. Pushing your body into his wanting to mold the two of you together as the kiss turns deeper. Breath becoming an issue and you break part panting to gather in air to your starved lungs.

“Bucky,” whimpering his name, head lolling back to give his questing lips access to the sensitive column of your throat. Swallowing to gather your wits. “James,” you try again running your nails through his hair, scrapping his scalp lightly and pulling a groan from the man against you. “I’m going die if you don’t fuck me James.” Words whimpered from you lips.

“We can’t have that now can we doll?” Dragging his nose up your beautifully scented skin to nip at your earlobe. Hands one warm the other cool cup your ass and lift, your legs wrapping around his trim waist of the own accord.

Pressing his harden cock into your willing core, making you shutter around him at the delicious friction his movements cause. “Don’t you dare tease me James,” burying your lips against his neck to bit down on the strong cords sucking a small mark just south of his thumping pulse.

“Marking me already sweetheart?” Pushing away from the counter to head towards his apartment. Trying to focus on his steps and not how good you feel in his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of teasing you doll but if you keep using that mouth of yours to tempt me I won’t be held accountable for the state your clothes end up in or the fact that the whole compound will hear us.”

Pulling back, hands spread over his neck, fingers tugging at the short strands, “Then you better pick up the pace Sergeant before I have to take matters into my own hands and that would be a shame to take care my own self. Wouldn’t it James?”

“Yes ma’am,” pausing at his door to press you into the hard wall. Rocking into your body so you can feel just what you’ve caused. “Especially when I have just the remedy to sooth that ache you were talking about.”

Poker night was never the same again at least night for you and Bucky.

#Writer Wednesday #Bucky Barnes x F!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #James 'Bucky' Barnes x F!Reader #Marvel Fan Fiction

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐺 & 𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑈𝑇𝐼𝐹𝑈L

A oneshot of how you two met in the beautiful city of Italy, how Harry finds you an Angel descended from heaven above that took his hand and became his light. Dad!harry full of fluff..oh yeah dad!harry nation lets rise. .Part two of tooth rotting dad harry of it is here too. young and beautiful (II)

It's Saturday night. Harry and you intentionally have no plans but to loaf around in your guys cosy homely space. The candles flames with rośe tranquilness, the intro to movie watched many times together rolling in. Both of you are snuggled onto large body sucking sea-green velvet couch infront of telly.

His daddy long legs nestled atop your hip hooking around your ankle protecting you from falling if possible (moreso the fact he's extremely protective of you in your pregnancy.) His one elbow snaked around your collarbones which are now hiding underneath soft swelling, his sweater pawed arm sheltering around your huge eight months baby bump slender tender fingers tucked underneath your side.

You relaxes into him, back pressed to his tanned chest and with his chin resting atop your hair whenever he rasped out something it bobbed your whole head.

"Yeh' kay, baby? comfy?" He asks you for the hundredth time now caressing and stroking your chin, then earlobes, collarbones to your belly and the list goes on. It's one of his habits that he doesn't realizes himself more as ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒. Harry's love language's physical contact, lots and lots of them. He finds calm in touching you here and there, raking his palms without them knowing their destination. He's cuddly and clingiest when drunk. Although, he has stopped drinking since you both are expecting but the clingy part of him jumped out during this period his only excuses are "wanna stay close to me' three babies." Or "i feel empty when you're even a bit away from me."

"'M lover, stop worrying." You bring his jaw down with the tip of your pointer finger to kiss his lips gently with a tilt of your chin. He mumbles an anxious "cant." in your mouth running his thumb under the curve of your womb with amiable affection.

You hiss into his mouth when one of your bubba kicks you with ever most force and he pushes away with amused eyes, when he felt the kick against his palm. It's not like it's his first but everything related to his unborn babies muse him to utter excitement and tears of joy.

He shifts a tad resting his a little scruffy cheek against your silken naked bump, you're wearing one of his crotched zinc orange crop top and it bunched up your belly in very much likeness of Harry, he thinks you look so endearingly sexy he could make you use him as many times you want. His ear tucked under the crescent of your chest, "feels like jus' a barrier of skin between us." He bubbles his accent and you smile down at him infectiously. Meanouvering your fingers into his chestnut curls and massaging his scalp that made his eyelids futter into bliss.

There was another visible kick and Harry smoothed down the skin eyes shinning up at you, "a footy champ this one." You sucked your bottom lip trying not break into fits of laughter because from the weight your pelvis muscles has become weak and you end up leaving wet tiny splotches most of the time. First time you had it was two months ago you were fucking embarrassing and couldn't stop crying right after an hour of genuine laugh ofcourse caused by Harry when you guys shopped for babies and he wore that one onesie on his head being all goofy and child of two while expecting two himself.

"How're meh' baby girls. meh' bunnies." He smauched loud wet kisses all over your belly making slobbery snuggly voices to annoy you. You tug at his roots whining loudly because you know the undeniable loving scene of Harry talking to his two daughters will bring you to tears all because of stubborn hormones. Yes, two!

While you weren't even expecting a pregnancy, God said wait for my bumper surprise.

Everyone told your bump looks healthier than normal pregnancies but you ignored it until the day of gender check-up. Harry was ecastatic, fist pumping the air, bouncing with your hands intervined tears bloodshot in his eyelines. So were you...but you had a huge breakdown on the wooden floor of your home's threshold. You were blabbering thousand questions to him, body shaking and fighting to breath.

"I...I can't do this, Harry...too much 's too much." You cried to him that day. But he cradled your face into his calloused palms his temple kissed yours, "ye' can, my sweet girl. we can. wish I could bear one of our baby bunny, it's sad that I cant help ye'. But, it's my promise to be there for you forever and always." He leaned down to kiss you with so much love, more love he was keeping to himself ever since and more more love he can't put into words.

He comes back from your belly to leave a feathery kiss on your lips that makes you yearn for him more and settles back to his previous position, his face shoved into the crook of your neck and he presses kisses to the corner of your lips while your eyes remains glued to telly.

As Sally and Harry bickered in the car you chuckled softly fingers tracing his nose and the mole sheltered under it, "remember how we met?" His breath fanned tickling your cheek heartily when he shook his head with a giddy giggle.

"How could I not? Yeh' were a honey pot and a weepy mess after tha'." He scrunches his nose at you adorably reminiscing the night and series of nights after that.

"It was your fault mister." You twitch your lips turning to his side with his help and his hand sprawled at your back instinctively. "Ye' souvenired t' give a lonely guy like me some company, first." He smiles when you huffed. His beam getting joyously wider when your belly pressed tightly against his's and he kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Who thought that guy escapin' from Gucci's biggest event could be a dad of two girls." You quip playing with his neckline and his chest rumbled with a titter that sent you to cloud nine.

"Not me at all. But, if I could meet him back in time I'll tell him how lucky he's gonna be, how happy he'll be, that he doesn't needs to be a grumpy daddy when he could be a real happy one." His eyes are glassy and you cupped his cheeks placing your lips atop his into a feverish kiss of gentleness.

~𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑠ℎ𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 2015~

Gucci's spring festive on full blossom in the most popular old city of Italy, Milan. It's luxurious in all it's glory. A-list celebrities and world claimed most beautiful models. The hall clattered and shushed with talks, rumours, gossips and greets. Then it's fashion and tailored-fitted clothes, formal gowns. Fake smiles. Cold hearts.

On the long dinning table piled with food that sometimes's too difficult to pronounce Harry sat along with Kendall Jenner. His ex-girlfriend and a friend for now. She talks excitedly with the person infront of her snarling rude remarks here and there. Her hand came squeezing his thigh under the table that startled him from his imaginary world. A world where he's at peace, the luxuries doesn't exist and he's nothing but a normal person.

"Huh, love?" He kinks his brows together fiddling with the napkin in his lap and she gave him a furious pout for not giving her full attention, "I was pointing out how fast-fashion brands are shit." She rolls her eyes. Harry can't believe her bratty arse. He shrugged his thigh with a tad more harshness to get rid of her touch.

"Dunno. No' everyone could afford luxury brands." At this the model infront of them cackled more in her mock and sniffed to be polite in the fake hush of the room. Harry's eyes turned glassy and the jade in the murky to the visible irritation at their behaviour. His expressions dark and unreadable under the very less light.

Quiffing his long hickorey curls back he nibbed at his pointer finger's knuckle only to bend it under his chin afterwards, "'m serious." Kendall sighs loudly at this clearly annoyed by the way he's acting and the model infront of him gave him a 'whatever makes you sleep at night.' look and a shrug of her shoulders in arrogance while eating her steak.

Enough. Harry thinks with a grumble struck in his chest. He rakes the chair back that drew some attention but it drifted to some person sharing their experience and all that shit talk again on the loop.

Harry's guard followed him behind pushing the paparazzi away. Flashes in his eyes. Made up assumptions to his ears and shoved up opinions to his chest. He's sick. From all of this. He wants to shout to no-one in particular but himself, he wants an escape. He wants it with his every bleeding cell.

Then he takes a curt turn with a whiplash of his torso to dark alley beside the building from which he just exited and when he reached the end it was blocked by a brick wall so he jumped with ease to other side, his expensive boots scruffing against the gravel. He gave no care to the guard behind him.

He was in a local less populated street. Wider with the bumpy stones and there were people indeed but nobody paid him heed.

He sat on the concrete bench. Flinging his one leg over another hand gripping near his crotch and with a relieved huge exhale of breath he took his phone out going through it. After, so long he feels like he's a free dove who could breath free escaping from it's cage.

He's broken. Empty and in the rough path of his life. He doesn't know how to cope with it. It makes him fuckin' insane.

There's an ice-cream cart few steps away from where he's sitting alone onto bench. His head snaps at the beautiful giggle bouncing through the tangerine sky. He squints his eyes to get a better look of the group of friends crowding near the cart and licking onto their ice-creams.

Your white cotton dress furled with a wave of zephyr and the loose errand of your hair slipping from your low bun cascading around your face while you gave a belly ache laugh to one of your tall friend bopping his nose at his silliness.

Harry stares at the interaction of young people. They're just like him but looks more happy and youthful then why couldn't he?

His eyes are set on a certain figure and that's you still hidden from him as your friend Mona blocked the sight of your perfect view to Harry nudging your ribs.

"Is that Harry Styles." Jo mutters when his eyes fell over him and then he bashfully hisses, "don't look back! Don't look back. You guys are being too specific." Considering yourself stupid you spinned to have an ethereal sight of Harry sitting all by himself on the cold bench, his carved features glowing with the illumination of his phone screen still unlocked while he got distracted by you people.

"Doesn't feels like he's enjoying himself." Mona quipped taking a large swipe of her cold delight. None of them too interested in his wear abouts.

Call it clićhe but you don't have any thought in your mind before you're asking for an ice-cream cone from the ice-cream man heading towards him with your hands occupied with two.

Harry's breath hitching in his palpalating heart at the complete sight of you, for sore eyes for sure. His nerves jittery and knee bouncing in restlessness as you approaches him with a sweet grin. He takes in your complete look. White flowy dress and nude sandals, loop earrings and the bright red lipstick resembling the blood gush of his heart. 'Less is more' making you appear so beautiful.

Harry's so lost in his own brain wrecking that he forgot where you went but you rounds him from behind flinging your left leg on the other side of bench to sit on it with your legs on either side of it, he again startles getting off-guard hastily turning to face you when you tapped his shoulder.

Licking your own vanilla sweetness you forwarded the cone to him a sweet sheepish smile on your glowing hearty features. His body guard instantly changed his position to stop you but Harry gave him a stink eye accepting your offer shyly. Your cheeks heating even in the mild temperature when his supple fingers brushed yours.

"Thank you." His voice timid wiping the corners of his heart shaped lips but you just shrugged your shoulders leaning back with your hand pressed against the bench, "no problem. you're welcome." Harry gazes at your collarbones prodding from the flimsy fabric of your v-line then he shifted his gaze down to his Gucci loafers telling himself not to be a pervert. It's just you're too delicate that he can't stop admiring.

"I like your suit." You compliments him with glinting eyes and his cheeks flushed with shyness mumbling a "thank you." Under his erratic breath.

His eyes flutters and tummy flips when you bring your hand closer to him taking the sleeve of his jacket tugging at it, "it's too graphic you know...in a good way." He finds it endearing that you were this engulfed in just the design of his suit and when you tilt your chin peering up at him, he feels like his brain stopped functioning. He nods eyes still locked to yours and when he sense some coldness dripping down his thumb he quickly ducks down to lick it off causing his sculpted cheek to stroke against your silken ones in utter gentleness.

You gulp timidly sitting back straighter.

"So...? For what stuff you're here for Harry?" He loves the way his name sounds mellow coming from you. He clears his throat unwinding his long legs to stretch them wide and it nudged yours sending jolts to both of you, "uh, 'm 'ere fo' Gucci event." You beam at this shifting closer to him.

"I like the way it sounds comin' from you." He cackles at this running his fingers to tame his matte curls.

His tense demeanor slipping bringing his shy, timid and goofball ones exposed to you. He's himself surprised that all the built up frustration in his nerves drained away from your presence.

Being an art major and a fashion geek you asks him with ferverishness patting his knee, "what was it like? I've heard it's mesmerising." He chuckles at this. He wanna scoff because a sweet girl like you wouldn't last a second there.

"'S okay. I guess." He elevates his shoulder in bored expression and when the ice-cream swipes at the tip of his nose you giggled bunching forward to his side. He smiles down at you squinting his eyes narrow in an accuse.

"And what yer' here fo'? Wait yeh from here?" You bite the waffled cone chewing it. Words muffling with a full mouth, "having a trip with my University's friends. I live in London though. I really really wanted to see Milan. So, here I'm." You make an innocent childish face raising your arms in air to show him and his heart's soothing to peace with every homely action you'd pull to make him relaxe.

Then there was silence that Harry was unaware how to break. He could hear you talking for an eternity. On the other hand you aren't that akward to make conversations with people. No doubt you're shy, and wants your own space to blossom but this one habit of yours is inseparable.

"You know when back home. An ice-cream man would come daily at midnight in summers. Me and my cousins would climb up his bicycle cart like darn monkeys. Pop our heads inside the freezer and annoy the fuck outta him. God I miss home." There's this un-pointable feeling. That's unfigurative to Harry but it's there; of admiration and of endearment. His heart's at cloud nine caressing itself to the pink cotton candy.

His heart reaches out for you from his ribcages as the homesickness glistered in your irises. You weren't obliged to talk to him, to give him company but you still did beacuse beautiful accidents and coincidence happen in the admist of rushed streets.

Harry parted his lips to talk to you more but he has nothing, his life's not unknown by anyone and the normal scenarios of people entertains him so much.

His head snaps when you grin widely at him throwing the last and best of cone inside your mouth. Your small pretty mouth chewing like a rabbit and Harry wants to have a touch, just some to shush the fire in his stomach.

His head snapping when you yelled to children that were skipping on rope waving to them, "hey kiddos! Wanna have some ice-cream!?" They all left their play of galloping running towards you. Harry looks at you wide eyes eating his last bits away.

"Our hotel gave us a coupon for free ice-creams." You laugh standing up and he wants to catch you by wrist to stop you going away from him but when you squeeze his shoulder leaning to whisper in his ear chills ran down by his spine, "will be right back." He swallows thickly nodding eyes trailing to you as you collects all the little fellas to cart.

He watches you. Is she an Angel? A mirage to help him out of his anxiousness? Or a smoke in his mind that'll disappear soon? He thinks picking on his nails. He's not ready to step out of the calm bubble you created so delicately around him. Only if life could be this easier.

He rolls his eyes playfully sucking his lips inside his mouth when he sees you paying extra for more. He looks back to his body-guard. Maybe you didn't noticed him or cares less but Harry's kinda annoyed that he has to be here in such a happy vulnerable moment of his life.

"Thank you nice lady!" Harry chuckles gleefully when all of the kids thanked her licking onto their sweets. "It's okay kids, be careful before I take them back."

Shaking your head you strides back to Harry coming to stand infront of him. You can fit perfectly between his legs if he opened them wider for you, that desireful thought swooshed through his mind but he shakes it away.

"Thank ye' nice lady." He squeaks in high teasing pitch standing up and your eyes widened when he literally towered you fully. Your height differences funny even you're in heels.

"Not you now." You declared with blushed cheeks. His irirses glinted when you fumbled with the sides of your dress.

"So...this's it?" You ask him peering up at him with such gooeness he could whimper. Shivers running down your body as the weather turned rather more chill.

"This's it.." Harry whispers. He feels what? a lump of wetness in his throat? He's at the brink though.

"Thank you for bearing my monkey ass." You guffawed out but he has serenity in his eyes. He thins his lips. "I should be the one to say thanks."

He was taken aback when you hugged him running soothing circles at his back. He inhales your tangerine vanilla scent embracing you fully now. If he could freeze the time he would in a snap. He feels like he's all the way back home after travelling shallow through the whole world.

"It's gonna be alright, whatever it's Harry. It'll be alright. You're gonna be alright. It gets bumpy but you still have so much for you." Harry wants to cry in some strangers arms. He feels so defeated and tired. But, the determination and affirmation in your voice made him think opposite. He'll do it. He can do it.

He didn't let you go first. You untageled yourself from him gently swaying on your feet, taking a step back and he couldn't blink his eyes away from you as you bit your crimson lip.

You take steps away from him eyes still locked to his jade ones and he calls you out through the breeze looking for passing by cars if possible because you're standing in the middle of street.

"Hey, stranger!!!" You tilt your chin in a questioning and shake your head at his lopsided cheshire smile, "forgot t' tell ye'r name!" He yells out in rushed anticipation and anxiousness as if he'd loose you if any minute ticks by.

Goosebumps appears at your bare legs from the chill, "Y/N. Y/L/N." Then you spin around raising your hand high atop your head waving it for Harry.

"Ba-bye. Harry." You says loudly but it doom vacuumed to emptiness once you step inside your hotel's lobby leaving Harry at his own sake again.

Standing still at his spot. Hands shoved into his trouser's pocket and long spiral curls framing his sculpted features he watches you with a furrow of his brows from the glass of hotel. His frown getting deeper when you threw your head back laughing when you bumped into your friend who was coming to find you, you caught his wrist eyes widening at something funny he said and Harry sighs thinking maybe you're just this kind and generous and that he's not a special case in your book.

With an exhausted sigh he makes his way towards his bodyguard who gives him a side mishevious eye, "happy now, Styles?" Harry jabs a shove to his bulky shoulder playfully lips twitching and eyes narrowing, "oh shut up!" His mood more lightened and gleeful than his previous one thanks to you.

***

Next day when Kendall and her friend dragged Harry to fancy the local streets of Milan. Harry had a less scowling face than before. They stopped infront of some shop to buy bagels that someone bumped right square into Harry's back making him stumble a little.

It's you. Rushing out of a pharmacy. Harry's gaze trails from your toe to head and his lips parts in surprise. The whole past night in his lonely hotel bedroom you were his dream of heart and the stubborn thought of his mind while the thump of after party going downstairs kept him occupied and fainted the erratic pace of his heart. Then his brows kink in worry and concern at the grueling sight of you.

You're in a pink sweater and pyjamas. Eyes glassy. Cheeks flushed and blazing. Nose running and hair poking out in every direction. He takes a gentle step towards your astonished figure brewing fingers reaching out to hold you but when you keeps a distance from him his heart falls in his arse, and when you cough in your elbow he realizes that you're maybe cold or having a fever.

"You okay, love?" He asks you. Voice that of honey and panic dripping from his features. You gives him a big smile bobbing your head quickly and he have an urgency not to roll his eyes at you. Because you don't seem okay from any angle!

"'M just having a tiny cold it's not that worrisome." Harry's eyes pops out from his socket at your voice. It's groggy and hoarse not that sweet warm honey that was fusing in his ears last night. "Y/N. You can barely speak, are you sure you're okay?" You try to give him a small smile at his care but it got suppressed by another throat tearing cough. Poor little thing. Harry fawns looking down at you.

At this he abruptly saturates the distance between you two, "note me' number, darlin'. Promise me you'd call me if you feel too sick." You give a glance to his two friends coming by to stand beside him.

"Hi." You greet them in hoarseness and they wince when you forward your hand for a shake making you feel ashamed and embarrassed of your politeness when they didn't accepted it. Harry jaw ticks in furiousness as he glares them it's all adding up to push his nerves now.

He takes your shivering hand with an arch of his brow to his friends in challenging sterness noting down his phone number at your palm. You give him a soft "okie." and a "thank you." waving him and his friends a good-bye. He notices that you're not someone to hold grudges against someone. He knows that Kendall's behaviour throws people off but you didn't seem to mind it too much.

"Who was she Harry?" Kendall asks him chewing onto her bagel. Harry shrugs not keen to spill any precise details, "someone I met last night."

She tries to scrape more from him. "How?" Harry closes his eyes tugging at his roots not ready to snap at her.

Harry thinks many times to say the right words so that she'd shut up but still ends up saying something that infuriated her ego and mock, "she offered me ice-cream—" Her friend scoffs perking his head.

"Mate you're nuts for accepting something from a stranger." Logically yes. But you meant no harm to him. Your eyes were truthful and shined with sincerity.

Harry stays silent walking inside their hotel. The hostess asks them if they'd like to have a brunch.

On the other hand you climbed up the stairs to your room with a lazy gait. Your lungs burning. Once inside your room. You takes your medicine with a shivering body and minus energy to even raise your finger. You want to cry but you give a pep talk to yourself that you're a brave girl squishing yourself in your bed, hiding under three blankets.

There's bright sun outside but still you're feeling like someone placed you atop Antarctica's glacier snatching every clothing item from you. Your friends are all out and you wish you could have them. You hate being sick and alone.

When you woke up again. You felt horrible. Feeling like a truck crushed you underneath itself. When you tried to sit up, you fell back a reckless painful sob erupting from your lungs as with wavering fingers you massaged your sweaty forehead. The sheets under you drenched into sweat and hotness. Panic rising in your chest as your vision blurred with blackness so you dialed Harry's number immediately in the fear someone should be with you in case you faint.

"He—" He was cut off with your loud crying. The fork in his hand clanking against the sleek plate gaining everyone's attention. "'S okay. 'M comin'. I'll be there in no time love." He speaks hastily telling his bodyguard not to follow him with a gesture of his hand while striding to his car in big steps.

"Y/N. Darlin'? Yeh' there?" He asks you with his chest tightening with anxiety when the other end of line was dead as grave, "'m, i'm." Your breath spurts into coughs and Harry sighs sympathetically at your condition. It took him fifteen minutes to reach your hotel.

"Which room?" None of you noticed that the phone was still on line. You were half conscious cheeks soaked and smashed into silk pillow case. "Room number, sweets?" He asks you patiently running through different floors to take care of you as soon as possible.

"2-234.." You stutter. Harry halts in the middle of corridor snapping his head everywhere your room was three rooms away from him.

"Can yeh' stand up for me and unlock the door for meh? Can yeh do that sweet girl?" Harry's standing at your door and your sob muffles into your arm when you shake your head in denial. Luckily the door was unlocked.

"Stupid girl." Harry mutters under his breath pressing the red button when he finally tumbles inside your room. He wants to scold you for not caring for your safety when you're sick, fragile and barely able to stand up.

His heart grips into a knot when you turn to your side. The girl he was with last night long gone. Your lips blue and wobbling. Cheeks red and wet. Sweat sheening. Your body shaking. You could be barely seen from under the layers of blankets.

"Oh sweet girl. 'm so sorry." The mattress dips under his weight and he hovers over you taking you in his arms instantly. Squeezing you tight and warm, it feels good so you cuddles your face into the crook of his neck. He gasps when his hand glides down your back and finds it pooling with so much sweat, and you burning like sun outside.

"You're burnin' love." He says with wide eyes cautiously smoothing his hand at your back to make you feel better.

"It hurts, Harry." Harry pulls you from your shoulders rolling his thumb in the dips to massage them, "where?" Your chest rumbles with another whimper as you bolt your eyes shut.

"Everywhere."

He inquires further and you give a drowsy moan when he expertly massages your shoulders and arms, "did you take your medicine?" You nod at this head falling against his chest and if he wouldn't be so worried about your condition his tummy would've flipped so hard.

"And did yeh' ate somethin' befo' that?" When you shake your head in rejection he again pulls you back looking down at you in offend and shock.

"Y/N..." He warns you with a tough expression. Then he cups your cheeks making you look at him even though your eyes are closed he scolds you strictly, "Y/N you should be kind to yourself too."

"Now. 'M gonna take ye' to hospital." He announces and you squirm away from his grip shaking your head like a child. You hate hospitals.

"Y/N..don't be difficult darlin'." Only if he knew he has to deal with this his whole life. As you try to speak your words swallows back when he snakes his arms under your armpits making you stand up.

"No buts. Look at ye'. Yer condition will worsen if yeh' keep refusin' to go." With your whole weight over his side he makes you sit in the passenger seat, stroking your cheek with his knuckles giving you a reassuring smile and rounding to his driver side.

He keeps on checking you through the whole drive. You're still high on fever when he places his palm at the curve of your neck then at your forehead tsking when you moaned in pain, "'s gonna be alright." He rubs your knee trying to give you a smile through his own anxiousness.

They checks you in the ER. The doctor notes your symptoms on his notepad and Harry gazes you in full concentration sitting right beside you, he has your fingers laced with his's and he's continuously rubbing your back to provide you with any warmth.

"I've a very low immune system since I had a tonsillectomy when I was nine. Had an ice-cream last night and quite often I know I get sick in this season." You toy with his silver rings carelessly. Harry admires you. Dunno why. He just do. Because he thinks he might be falling for the way you talk, you behave and try to remain polite in every circumstances.

"Miss Y/N since you've your tonsils removed your coping mechanism from bacteias's less and you've caught a pneumonia." Your head immediately turns to look at Harry and when he sees that fear in your eyes he unwinds his hand from yours leaning to take your chin, "hey...hey lovie'. It's okay you'll heal in a week."

The doctor hands the prescription to Harry. The next thing he announces makes you sob like a five years old, "no. no. no." You shake your head shrinking back and Harry gives the doctor a sheepish akward smile stroking your hair.

Doctor sighs at your behaviour leaving at last, "the nurse will be here soon to give you injections."

Harry quickly stands up shutting the large curtain that's around the stretcher bed you both are sitting at as soon as he comes back you wrap your hands around his forearm. He hisses when you dig your nails to his flesh your tears dropping at his wrists.

"I don't like needles. I loathe them. They scare me." You sniffle and Harry ducks to your level metting your glossy gaze. He caress your head kissing your hair, "you're so brave. I know it. It would just be a pinch. Ye' can squeeze the fuck outta my hand if yeh want to." He has his fingers tucked under your earlobes as he again and again wipes your tears.

The nurse comes to you shutting the curtains behind her. She's old lady in age and observes the couple infront of her. Well, for her you both are looking like one.

You immediately move back to Harry's side as he's sitting now with his front infront of you, "scared of needles." Harry tells her timidly in a low voice puffing his cheeks a bit in gentility.

Harry saps his opal teeth into his lower lip when you wrapped your elbow around the nape of his neck bringing him down closer to you and your face shoved to his chest near his armpit. His other arm wrapping around your waist to flush you closer to him. He tries to drift your attention to himself whispering sweet nothings into your ear and the nurse awes applying alcohol where she has to inject the needle.

"'S okay. We're gonna get home after this, have some soup, will take a nap, watch some telly...." He smoothes his hand over your spine grasping it softly. You stiff in his genial hold twitching and hissing loudly when the needle was poked and pushed into your delicate skin. His white shirt's completely soaked into your tears now but he doesn't give two fucks.

"Just two more." The nurse mutters and you perk your head away from Harry's chest looking at her horrified, "two more!?" You squeak out hiccuping and Harry has to suppress his giggle at your expense from how adorable you look.

He again shoves your head back in his armpit muffling your huffing and tantrums. "Don't move darlin' don't wanna get yeh' hurt." His hold tight and firm.

"Hurts." You pout and Harry traces it stopping himself to just lean down and kiss it. Nurse left you guys to yourself and Harry breaths loudly grinning at you, patting his thighs standing up helping you too.

"Thank you, Harry." You crane your neck to see him properly rubbing your nose once Harry makes sure you're sitting in his car comfortably.

"No problem, love." He kisses your cheek making your lips quirk up for the first time.

***

You're sitting crossed legs on the twin sized bed of your hotel room. Harry takes a quick glance of you pouring soup into some bowl. Your temperature a little bit coming back to normal, sweat still there as you rests your head back at the board of bed. You're room's nothing sort of luxurious it's dinky and compact.

"Here love." Harry hands you the soup making sure to be careful that you don't get burnt and you takes it from him with a series of appreciation.

"Feelin' better now?" He asks you rubbing your ankles as you places your feet in his lap. Blowing onto your soup and he does the same shoving spoonful in his mouth.

"Way better. Felt like dying honestly." Harry couldn't imagine how bad your condition was he saw it himself and he gives you a weak smile, his man-bun getting loose now.

"Where are your friends? they should have known that you weren't feeling well."

"They asked me but—" Harry's low voice cut you off. In just a day he got to know what your nature's like.

"But you didn't wanted to spoil their fun." You roll your eyes playfully wiggling your toes in his lap to tickle his tummy but he catches them making you squeal through sore throat.

He giggles when you slurp purposedly attaching your lips to the rim of your bowl. Once you're full he places your medicine in your palm and when you makes an icky face he gives you a stern gaze, "uh-huh. Take 'em."

When you swallow the bitter medicines down with a huge gulp of water he pats your head, "good girl." He puts the glass at nightstand. Caressing your jaw, "wanna take a nap?" You nod.

"W-would you lay down with me, ...'s just my body aches and—" You tried to explain without letting heat to creep at your cheeks. He bobs his head furiously more than okay to fulfil your wish.

Without any word he shifts gently to your side getting rid of the hair band that was trapping his long curls into a bun, squeezing into twin sized bed with you, "sorry." he quips when you hiss at his cold bare feet touching your warm ones.

"It's okay." You smile up at him moving closer to him. Sheets rustling underneath as you rests your head over his sprawled forearm. Your bodies reacting automatically like one of soulmates when your knee nudged his legs and he parted them so that you could place your sore one in between them. You molded into him like a piece of puzzle, that was just meant to fill the part of him that was scraped out because of his fate leaving him shallow and empty.

"Sorry for ruining your day." You mumble into his neck fingers brushing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. He shakes his head running his thumb in circles under your hair that were sticking to your neck, "No, thank you fo' makin' my day better. 'M havin' fun babying you." You titters at this and he sighs. There's calm. Heart beats in sync. Yours was racing moments ago. You're tangled into eachother's embrace and he pulls thin blanket ontop of both of you.

You purr wishing he could be always with you at how he's a walking talking heater, "you're warm." Harry senses come to a pause at the kitten voice you just let out snuggling into him deeper and exhaling the breath he was holding in. He melts into you kissing your forehead and petting your cheeks.

"Sleep sweet girl." His breathing lulls you to deep slumber.

***

It's late in night. Harry squints his eyes to street lights coming from the balcony window. He groans and when pushes his face away from you, a huge lovesick smile dances at his lips. He slept so good after so long. Your warmth and sweet flesh pressed into him made him drift to sleep so quick.

He brushes your loose hair back, adorning every feature of you. Fever making you look more glowy and swelly. Then when he leans to kiss your forehead he hears the quite whimper escaping from your lips.

He places his hand at your neck to check and you're again burning. Sighing he wakes you up by smoothing his hands down your arm, stroking your hair gently and tapping your cheek with his two fingers.

You're murmuring weepily in your sleep. "Wake up y/n. It's time for your second dose." He keeps his voice slow not to startle you and your eyelids fluttered taking it's time to absorb his presence.

You shift back against the headrest. He brings the glass closer to your lips after giving you medicine. One hand on your head other making you sip water.

"W-wanna go home. Home Harry." You say in your breaths hiccuping and Harry feels so helpless. He tries to calm you down in every way possible.

He knows you're not talking about going back to London. Your talking about your actual homeplace. Then it hits him, that you're both missing that feeling. Even though you're bubbly, happy and cheerful girl you still miss home as Harry does too. You're perfect for eachother.

He takes you in his arms bringing you back to bed. You hug him close to your heart tearing in his embrace, soft whimpers in his ears that's a knife to his stomach. He pecks the side of your head multiple times.

"Home." You sniff eyes dropping. Harry messages your scalp. Your body moving up and down as he breaths. Your continuous blabbering of 'home' dulls to your sleeping breath and Harry's own eyes craved for more drowsiness with you.

He bolts his eyes shut when his phone vibrates under him. "What!?" He spats whisper yelling, you still over him. He doesn't want to disturb you by any means. Not when you're sick and went back to sleep with so much difficulty.

"'M not coming." He declares dryly as his manager tries his best to coax him back to whatever place they want him asap.

He throws his phone onto sheets cuddling back into you, letting your scent to consume him fully. His heart prancing at the thought of serenity he'll feel while sleeping else it's just jolts of anxiety.

***

Next morning your arms were holding onto nothing, there's no shoulder on which you were crying earlier. The room's dull and sheets cold. Sun refused to outshine for today it didn't got any emarld to beam at.

"Harry...?" You whisper innocently rubbing sleepiness from your eyes and when the silence laughed back at your face you sigh sadly.

You knew from the very start that his presence was just a mere touch of heaven and it's not his fault that you never got to complete dive into him.

It's just you and your homesick soul staring blankly at the flower wallpaper. His soft, giddy vanilla smell hugging you from every side. Consuming your body and you didn't realized you'll miss him until now.

Maybe, you and your love was contagious to him.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 a 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞!!! Don't forget to give your feedbacks.

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