#shes like only seen me in pajamas for most of our relationship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sardonic-the-writer · 7 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

↳ summary: you befriend a cat and somehow end up having to save new york in the process. or; a reader insert of season two episode twelve, of rats and men

↳ warnings: some mentions of violence, and one slight sexual innuendo

↳ notes: part two to this tmnt series that i'm doing. reader is autistic and a bitch. again, it can be read as a stand alone, but it's more enjoyable if you read these in order. once again, mainly a reader insert with a slight lean to a budding relationship between donnie & reader. can be with any other turtle if you want

↳ song: turtle power—partners in kryme

part one | next part | masterlist! | commissions! | carrd

"I know they said that pizza was gluten free, but I definitely tasted gluten."

The cold wind of a New York afternoon nipped at your heels as you meandered down the sidewalk, three figures in tow. Rocks and stray bits of litter dotted the crooked sidewalk, occasionally brushing an untied shoestring of yours.

It was the weekend. A time when school was at the back of your mind and pizza in the front. You had been called up by April this morning whilst lounging in bed, a sense of urgency in her voice as she invited you out with her and Casey for lunch. From the sound of it, she had been asked on a not-date-date again and was relying on you to break the ice. And since you were such a good friend, you changed out of your ratty pajamas to catch up, cursing teenage love under your breath all the way.

It was only after pulling up to Antonio's with a blank expression that you'd saw Irma loitering outside at the same time, tossing a limp wave to her as you both headed in to join your collective friends. Predictably, Casey hadn't been very happy to see either of you, and you responded by politely sticking him with the bill.

Now the four of you were walking aimlessly. Not in the direction of anyone's apartment, which was to assume that you knew where Irma lived. Which you didn't. You weren't sure you were on that level of friendship with her; or any level of friendship really.

Caseys bike ached and creaked with age as he pushed it along beside him. Occasionally you'd find yourself looking back at it, as if expecting it to fall to pieces at any moment. You wonder how long he'd had it for; and why he insited on bringing it along with him if he thought this would have been a romantic getaway. Maybe he was hoping to go on a couples ride or something. The thought of it made you smile wryly.

"Thanks for hanging out with us on our date, Irma." Casey cleared his throat, sending a dry look the purple haired girls way. "We really needed a chaperone."

At that last bit he sent a pointed look April's way, who whistled as she pretended to hear nothing.

"Anything I can do to help." Irma responded, nonplussed.

"Who said that was supposed to be a date, Jones?" You questioned whilst playing with your hoodie strings. "Pretty sure I heard April call it a hang out when she asked me to come."

You heard the squeak of his bike hesitate before continuing, most likely taking your words with a grain of salt.

He might have responded to your poking with some of his own, if a sudden shadow hadn't darted out onto the sidewalk, stopping Casey dead in his tracks.

The beady red eyes of a rat stared curiously at you all as the hockey player jumped three feet in the air, immediately pushing his bike out in front of him as a makeshift barrier. It skittered off once deciding you weren't of any use, dissapearing down a sewer drain.

"I can't belive someone as big as you is afraid of a little rat!" Irma smirked. Or smiled. You could never tell with her. Casey just frowned in response, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well I can't belive that rat was afraid of this adorable kitty!" April kneeled to the ground inbetween Casey and Irma's bickering, picking up a mangy tabby that looked like it had seen better days. It yowled a little at her touch, squirming uncomfortably. You hadn't seen the animal before, but now there was no doubt in your mind that that's what the rat was running from.

"Give it here." You held your hand out to April, then hesitated and repeated yourself in a more softer tone. She looked at the cat and then you before shrugging, handing it over.

Immediately after securing your hold, you picked it up by the scruff. It's fussing ceased, and you took the moment to run a hand down it's neck, all the way to the back of it's tail. After a moment or two, it began to purr like a well oiled machine, leaning into you.

"Wow! You're really good with animals." April awed with her hands clasped.

"Not really. Raph tried to kill me when I first met him." You offhandedly mentioned, still running a concentrated hand down the cats back.

"Who's Raph? Is that your dog?"

You stilled as Casey and April exchanged nervous looks. No one answered Irma's question for a second, surely garnering suspicion from the fourth party.

"Uh, sure Irma. My dog."

"Hm." She pushed her glasses up and squinted at you. "What breed is he?"

You blinked. Your hand came down on the cat a bit harsher this time, resulting in a hiss to sound.

"He's a poodle!" April cut in. "Now can we get a move on? It's getting kind of cold." She looked happy to change the subject, even faking a shiver for effect.

"Sure. Your place this time April?" Irma said as she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles along her skirt.

"Actually, I was hoping me and Red here could head off. You know. Alone." Casey slung an arm around April with a less than genuine gap toothed smile.

"If alone means with me and April, then yeah." You didn't miss the way April tossed you thankful look as you spoke. "We've got to find some place for this cat, and I'm not exactly fond of bringing it home to my parents. They've already got their hands full with, er, Raph."

Irma stared at you all unimpressed. April tossed her a sheepish smile while hopping on the back of Casey's bike; the former looking happy at the premise of her holding his waist. You just rolled your eyes.

"Sure. I'll walk beside you guys. No biggie."

"Hey, did you want to be the one to hold onto Casey's back?"

"Nevermind. Carry on."

The three of you parted from Irma, tossing seperate waves of your own back at the girl as she grew farther away. Her deadpan look never once faded.

"So. We're all thinking of bringing this to the guys, right?"

April and you nodded at Casey, immediately steering towards the closest alleyway as soon as Irma could no longer be seen. The cat stiffened in your arms at the change in scenery. With a gentle whisper to settle down, you scratched behind its ears. A cough was the thing to break you out of the little trance.

"Having fun you two?" Casey said smugly. You glared at him as he parked his bike and leaned it against an alley wall.

"Stuff it, Jones." You flipped him off the best you could with a cat in your arms, starting forward to where April was wrestling with the manhole.

None of you heard the distant scream as you slid the cover open, sliping into total darkness.

You had come to expect an overwhelming greeting anytime you showed up.

Mikey launched himself out of Donnie's lab the second he'd heard your voice. Nevermind that you were talking with Leo, nodding your approval at the showing of Space Heros on TV. You weren't even sure that Mikey registered that. Once he had his sights set on something, he was like a missile. A very loud very playful missile.

No sooner than stepping a foot into the living room, you were tackled with a exhale of air, falling over while somehow managing to keep the cat from clawing your face off. An impressive feat if you do say so yourself.

"You're back!" Mikey screamed your name, hitting his forehead on your chest with a frantic smile. "We thought we'd scared you off!"

After a few weak growls for him to 'get the fuck of of me Michelangelo', you stood up and brushed yourself off. Mikey bounced excitedly all around you, thankfully not touching. You might have kicked him if he did.

"Dont worry bud. It'll take a lot more than just some mushrooms to get rid of me." You eventually answered, looking very unsurprised for someone that had just been tackled by two hundered pounds of turtle.

"Yeah! I bet you eat mushrooms for breakfast!" Mikey struck a very crude ninja pose. Something that almost made you laugh, considering he was an actual ninja.

"That's what humans do, Mikey. They literally eat mushrooms with their breakfast." Leo called from the couch. You couldn't see his face from where you were standing, but you could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice.

"Oh."

"I know what you meant. Don't worry dude." You waved it off. Mikeys smile returned in no time flat, and you could see questions about the cat bubbling in his throat as he moved on. You were quick to start moving, not really up for a tirade of questions at the moment.

The turtle skipped after you as you headed in the direction of Donatello's lab. His door was still ajar from when Mikey had sprung out of it, and you could hear the faint clinking of lab equipment drifting from it.

"Did anyone order a flea infested cat?" You said as you strolled in, ignoring the many warning signs plastered around the room screaming at you to not enter.

You watched as Donnie looked up from whatever he was doing with a glowing green beaker, face breaking out into a smile at the sight of you. For a moment you did your best attempt to smile back, and it seemed to only increase the size of his. At least before his eyes dropped to the animal you were holding.

"Hey hey hey! Don't bring that thing in here!" His arms immediately shot out to cover any of the open substances he was dealing with. You paid no mind to him, just strolling over to the opposite side of his desk and leaning against it.

"What. The cat or Mikey?"

"Both!"

"Hey!" Mikey whined and pouted at you, still evidently hot on your trail. You snickered, continuing your stroking of the cat that had haulted earlier.

Donnie took one more look between you and the stray before sighing. He seemingly gave up before turning back to his work, probably glad you were entertaining Mikey for a bit. It always seemed to go that way when you came down here.

"So Mike." You watched Mikey stick his tounge out at you at the nickname and you mirrored him. "How do you feel about getting a new pet?"

"Seriously!" He gasped. Donnie stiffened from where he was sitting but didn't turn around.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "We found him up top, and he seems to be tame enough. You might want to make sure he gets some shots though. For worms and all."

You knew everything you were saying was going one ear and out the other for Michelangelo as he reached out to pluck the cat from your arms.

"Aww look at you!" He gushed before proceeding to spout ooey gooey nonsense at the animal. You faked vomiting.

"And Donnie?" You yawned as you felt the after effects of lunch taking hold of you, stretching your arms above your head. "Before you ask, yes, April's here."

You didn't even need to turn around to know that the crashing sound was probably Donnie falling out of his chair with a dopey smile.

"So is Casey." You finished with a slight smirk. Looking back, Donnie glared at you as he pulled himself up, cheeks still tinted red.

"You just had to add that part in last didn't you?"

"Save the best for last as they say!" The confident call of Casey came from the doorway. You looked over to see him leaning against it, trying his best to look what he most likey thought was cool as April strolled right past him.

"Hey my dudes!" Mikey popped up from somewhere behind you to wave frantically at them. He was holding ice cream for some reason now. You'd learned not to question his ways a long time ago.

"I see you've already introduced them to the little guy we found on the streets." April smiled. You rolled your eyes as Donatello made heart eyes at her, stuttering something out about how charitable she was.

"Can we keep her Donnie?" An excited Mikey squealed.

"You know, Master Splinter is a rat." The question from his brother seemed to snap some temporary sense into Donatello, turning in place to cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah! What if that cat goes nuts and attacks him? She'll feed off his body for months!"

"Thanks for the visual, Casey." You walked over to flick him on the crown of his head. A few panicked noises and thumps came from behind you, but you were too busy relishing in the look on Casey's face to notice.

"Alright, well you guys have fun. I'm going to raid your fridge." You stuffed your hands in your pockets and rocked on the balls of your feet. Faintly, you noticed Mikey rush out of the room with something in his hands.

"But we just ate?" April tilted her head at you. You smiled at her without any real emotion.

"I never said I was going to eat anything. Just save it for later."

"I guess I'll come with you." Donnie looked at the wall above you, no doubt checking the time. "I could use a break."

"Sure." You shrugged and turned. "You guys going to stick around or—" The last bit was directed at Casey and April, but they just shook their head and began to follow you out. On the way to the kitchen you were all joined by Leo and Raph, eventually reaching the kitchen table.

"Mikey, please for the love of god stop making out with the fridge." You didn't spare anyone a second look before balancing on your tip toes to open a cabinet. Rustling around, you came up with a bag of marshmallows. Letting a celebratory smile loose, you stuffed it in your hoodie pocket for later.

"Master? Are you okay?"

You turned around. True to Leo's question, Splinter was lumbering into the room. And not looking to hot. You noticed he lacked his usual poise. Instead, he was slouching and blinking slowly. He looked groggy, and you wondered for a moment if mutant rats could have nightmares.

"I need ice for my head." He mummbled. "And also. Possibly a cheese-sicle."

"Cheese-sicle?" You asked Casey from the corner of your mouth. He shook his head with a look that told you he knew about as much as you did.

"No sensei! You can't!"

All of you watched as Mikey slammed the freezer door on Splinter. The speed of it took even you by surprise. Either he had become self aware of the cost of electricity, or Mikey'd lost his mind.

"No?" The room seemed to ice over with the amount of coldness in Splinters voice. Your eyes grew big, and you resisted the urge to start snacking on the marshmallows like a bag of popcorn at the movies.

"You tell me no?" Splinter was hissing now. Any joke you would have made flown out the kitchen. Much like Mikey's body as Splinter sent a punch to his plastron.

"Jesus fucking christ!" You scrambled back, your cry getting lost in everyone else's as they yelled with surprise.

Splinter lowered to his arms and legs like a feral animal, and you managed to get a glimpse at his eyes. Normally, they were the exact same color as Donnie's. But now, they were covered in a sharp red film. Much like the rat that had crossed your path not too long ago on the surface.

Everyone scrambled in different directions as Splinter launched himself around the room. You included. You found yourself up on top of the fridge somehow, looking down with eyes as big as saucers at the scene before you. The thought of the tazer you carry with you crossed your mind, but you immediately felt guilty afterward. This was Master Splinter. The one who had made you feel the safest down here after meeting them. And you had just contemplated shocking him.

You didn't have long to feel guilty though. The turtles all eventually wised up and lunged at their master, pinning all four of his limbs to the kitchen table with difficulty. He continued to writhe violently, and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck.

"Would it help if I jumped onto his chest?" You yelled out, trying to find some way to help. You were met with an astounding amount of no's as an answer.

A few more moments of grunting and struggling played out before you. It didn't take long for Splinter, or whatever had taken his place, to gain the upper hand. Kicking everyone away, he sprung up onto his legs again.

"I have got what I came for." A slight echo tinged his voice. "Soon New York, then the world, will be mine!"

It was then he collapsed, and you finally allowed yourself to clamber down from the top of the fridge. Dust littered the bottom of your arms and legs from how you had been clinging onto it.

"Master, are you okay?" Leonardo was the first to approach him. April next, asking the same exact thing. Splinter grunted lowly in response. You waited with baited breath from him to open his eyes.

You let out a sigh when he did. They were back to brown again.

"The Rat King." Splinter uttered somberly. "He has returned."

You noticed everyone but Casey exchange looks with each other, looking very disturbed at this news.

A brief moment of silence. You blinked twice before speaking.

"The rat who?"

The lair's TV screen blared in front of you. Images of giant rats crossed the screen, and your eyes were trained on a very shrewd looking blonde reporter.

You and Casey had been filled in durring the amount of time it took to help Splinter from the kitchen counter to the living room. Tales of mind control, scientists turned into monkeys, and thousands of rats danced around in your head. You looked no worse than Casey at the news, who had done a horrible job at containing his horror when learning about a literal rat army.

You had barely begun to wonder how the news was still on air when a rat launched itself at the reporter. She dropped to the ground with a scream, and the feed cut to static before you were able to see if she was okay.

"Why did it have to be giant rats." Casey moaned as he flopped onto the couch.

"Er, maybe you should sit this one out Casey." April suggested with a wince. Beside you Donatello allowed himself a smile.

"Do you think tazers could take those things down?" You half heartedly asked no one in particular. Raph crossed his arms and shook his head in your peripheral. You slumped from your spot on the floor with a frown. He patted your shoulder hesitantly. Maybe you could kick them to death instead.

"Donnie, are you sure you can't build a giant mouse trap?"

"Please don't subject my intelligence to something so meaningless." Donnie said your name, rolling his eyes as he messed with his t-phone.

"I bet you'd do it if April asked." You spoke into your hand, not caring if he heard. You heard Mikey laugh at that from somewhere in the distance. If he was anywhere near you, you would have offered him a high-five at the backup.

"Alright guys." Leo now was standing in the center of you all with his hands on his hips. He was doing what you called his Captian Ryan pose, and the sight of it made the corner of your lips twitch into a small smile. If you had to bet, he was probably imagining himself as the fictional character right now.

Master Splinter stood off to the side, watching his son. His own mouth was pulled into a tight line, and he looked the most serious you had seen him in a while. You took one more moment to study him before slowly turning back to Leo.

"I have an idea."

If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that the turtles definitely did not have a driver's license.

A helmet clunked noisily against your head as you raced through downtown New York City. Rain pelted your vision, and you really regretted not asking for a pair of sunglasses ahead of time.

A four person race-cart sat beneath you, the seats filled by you, April, Donnie and Raph. The latter was driving, occasionally making sharp turns that would send you and Donnie clashing against each other respectively. You accidentally nailed him straight in his shell at one point, and now your elbow was throbbing something awful.

Screams floated to you from behind the cart. You knew if you turned your head, you'd see Mikey holding onto a rope and shouting his shell off, skating like his life depended on it. Which, technically, you guess it did.

The final piece de resistance was the giant foam cheese hat strapped to the top of his head. While you got fitted with an orange helmet that smelled faintly of pizza and sweat, he had been wrestled to the ground and forced to wear the yellow abomination. Apparently he was to be the bait for the giant rats, something that you got the feeling happened very often with him. The bait part you mean. Not giant rats. That was only a two time thing.

Casey was biking around somewhere a few blocks off, hitting stray mutants in the snout with his trusty hockey sticks. The only reason you knew he was still alive and kicking was the faint sounds of shrill screams bouncing off surrounding buildings. You might have laughed if you didn't feel like doing the same thing.

Another tight curb sent you face first into Donnie's lap. With a temper as hot as Raph's own, you scrambled up and yelled at the driver to watch it. You didn't even spare a glance at Donnie, skipping over how incredibly red his face had gotten.

"You try steering in this traffic!" Raphael shouted right back at you. You proceeded to make some not so nice gestures with your hands that April frowned at, the rain making you shake slightly in the cold, before falling back into your seat and awaiting part two of the plan. Something you'd named Grab That Turtle.

Mikey eventually got close enough to the bumper where you could grab his hand. With more effort than it would probably take a normal person, you snatched him up and into the cart. The result was a lovely three person dog pile in the back seat; something that you quickly remedied by pinching Mikey in the arms until he got himself and Donnie off of you.

You didn't even stop to yell at them. In exchange for that, you whipped out your tazer to sent a volt of electricity at a rat that had gotten too close, whooping excitedly when it yelped and fell back. It was nothing like what any of the turtles could have done, but that didn't stop you from feeling way too proud of yourself.

Your moment of celebration was cut short only when you noticed that you were no longer in the race-cart.

Cuts formed all along your face and arms as you tumbled out of the cart and to asphalt. You'd never wanted to discover what street tasted like, but you don't think you'd ever be able to forget it now.

Gravel found its way into your mouth and you felt something pop in your back as a slimey paw trodded on you. Before you could even gather enough strength to push yourself onto your hands and knees, a beak that felt too sharp and too precise for a rat closed around your middle.

Preparing for a quick snip and searing pain, you closed your eyes and grit your teeth. When it didn't come, you peaked an eye open. It was with much shock that you realized the rat wasn't attempting you eat you. Rather carry you, it seemed. Granted, it wasn't being the gentlest about it, but neither were you when you zapped it's brother on the neck.

At the thought of your weapon, you squirmed to try and reach it. Your attempts were stopped by the giant bite around you increasing in strength, practically cutting off all circulation in your arms now.

"Jesus! Fine I'll stop!" You snapped. It responded by dropping you and kicking you forward, growling when you hissed at it in pain.

For the second time that day, the world fell out from beneath you. Where the street should have been, a giant hole gaped. In the split second it took for you to fall through it, you recognized it as an entrance into the sewers.

"Urgh." Was all you could manage to say as the giant rat slid down the same hole, landing on you. Something made a loud cracking sound, and it was only after you felt the back of your head that you realized it had been you.

Your hand came back tinted with red. You glared at it before going cross eyed. And then nothing.

You awoke in a cage, next to the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

A spray painted mask stared back at you as you lifted your head up. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, nausea slapped you in the face.

"God damnit." You groaned and rolled over. You tried not to vomit. Of course Casey had been caught too. Now instead of just him, the turtles had to rescue you too. Way to go.

Before you could say anything else, your mouth was quickly covered. With half a mind to bite him, you growled. Casey just hit you in the head and no so subtly pointed next to you.

When you turned, you were met with the sight of Irma, who looked thoroughly confused.

The place all of you stood suspended above smelled horrible, and looked worse. You were sure you looked right at home with your torn clothes and hair matted with blood. Casey didn't look that good either, but miraculously Irma didn't have a single scratch on her. The only sign she was even witnessing the same thing as you was the telltale quiver of fear in her eyes.

"Irma?" You questioned with a blink. "What are you doing here?"

"Remember how we went out for pizza?" She frowned.

You nodded.

"I got attacked by a giant rat thing after you left. I tried screaming, but no one was around to help."

You resisted the urge to wince at that last part. Yowch. That had totally been you guy's fault. It seemed like she knew it too. You'd have to take her out for a snack after this or something to make up for it.

"Hey, at least most of us are together now." You reasoned, looking over at Casey. "We can probably try to find a way ou—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never seen the two of you before." Casey grumbled, his voice a much deeper and much faker octave. You looked over at him with a crazed look in your eyes, not up for games. He just stared right back at you, silently gesturing to himself, his mask, and then a confused Irma while you watched.

"Fine. Whatever. Just, fucking, whatever mystery man." You grabbed the cage bars and hit your head against them twice before stopping.

"That won't work." Irma motioned to your head banging and did her signature move of pushing her glasses up. "I've been down here practically all day. Nothing budges these cages."

At the mention of more cages, you looked past your own to the outside. Sure enough, dangling a good ten feet off the ground and even more away from you, hung other people in mesh boxes just as reinforced as yours. Some cried, while most just looked horrified. They all shared that one thing in common, and you were sure they wished they didn't.

"Welcome esteemed guests."

"Oh please don't tell me it's this guy." You frowned.

"There's no need to fear, I will not hurt you. That I promise." A chuckle rang darkly through the room— cavern? it felt more like a cavern —that you were being kept in. You didn't have to think hard to figure out who it belonged to. It already reaked with enoigh pretentiousness.

Sure enough, when the figure stepped out of hiding and into the light, you got a good look at what had been described to you back at the lair. Tall, covered in bandages, and sporting a horrible choice of a trench coat. You barely held yourself back from booing at him, figuring that it probably wasn't the best way to go undetected. Casey didn't seem to share your carefully thought out sentiment.

"Let us out of here you freak!" He said, still donning his modified voice as he shook the bars to the cage. You kicked him in the back of the knee. A universal sign recognized all over the world to shut the hell up.

"All in good time." The Rat King echoed back.

You groaned and massaged your temples. This was really going to give you another tension headache, wasn't it.

You were left wishing for some Tylenol as your captor dove into an explination, calmly explaining how he had come to capture you. Something about rats, mutagen, science, rats, rats, his intelligence, and more rats. Probably. You stopped listening half way through and started feeling around the cage for anything sharp.

Right as you thought your search would turn out to be fruitless, your hand brushed against the bulk of your waistline. Cool metal met your hand, and with a start, you realized that they hadn't taken your tazer.

They hadn't taken your tazer.

Wracking your mind all the way back to after Splinter freaked out, you remembered the turtles telling you something. About how the Rat King used to be normal, before a freak electrical fire left him blind. Only able to see through the eyes of rats.

Your hand tightened around the base of the tazer. The words electrical fire bounced around in your head.

If a shock got him into this, maybe a shock could get him out.

You paid no attention to Irma as she dropped to the floor in a fainting stupor. The adrenaline and lack of food getting to her probably. You only felt somewhat guilty for your flippant attitude toward her well being.

Tapping Casey on his shoulder, you held a finger up to your lips. Even with his mask on, you could feel the confusion coming off of him in waves as you gestured down to your pants.

"Uh. Dude, you know I sort of have a thing with Red right?" He laughed awkwardly, stepping away. You glared at him with the force of a thousand suns before lifting up your hoodie to reveal the head of your tazer. Pointing out at the Rat King, you watched as his eyes widened in realization.

"I know you have something similar in those goalie gloves of yours Casey." You murmered. "When its our turn for whatever he's planning, let the rats drag us. But when it comes time for him to touch us, zap him."

"You think that will work?" Casey shuddered. You could only imagine that he was thinking about being touched by those rats again. And voluntarily this time.

"It better. If not, it might buy us enough time for the others to get here." You cracked your knuckles nervously. The look that Casey gave you made you tilt your head.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just forget how scary you can get when you're not yelling at me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The guys should really start letting you come on missions with us."

You snorted and went to say something else. Maybe that he was crazy, or that you didn't quite hate the sound of that. Whatever it was going to be, you were cut off by the clashing of metal against metal.

The door to your cage swung open, and a furry paw grabbed you by the face. Struggling to breathe through the must of rat droppings coming from the living restraint around your face, you weren't aware that you were being lifted off the ground and dragged in the nearest direction of the Rat Kings makeshift lab. Somewhere in the shadows, five sets of hidden eyes widened. The other pair began to turn red.

"Here we have our first volunteer for the serum." The point of a needle came into view as the giant mutated rat dropped you. Brown fur stick to the inside of your mouth as you sputtered like a fish out of water.

Many cries for you to watch out came from the surrounding cages, New Yorkers feeling powerless while watching a teenager get stalked by a needle.

You grasped blindly at your waist. For a horrific split second, you could smell the sourness of his breath as he approached you. And then you felt your fingers close down around plastic.

Flipping the switch on your tazer, you sat up and poked him in the eyes with two fingers. Predictably, it did nothing but make him grunt in annoyance. But it was to his detriment. The action gave you enough time to scramble up and point the tazer at his face, rushing forward and sticking it right between his forhead.

"Suck my dick." You said heavily. Not exactly action hero movie material, but there would be plenty of time to worry about it later.

Blue light lit up his head and upper torso in a painful sparkle. Rats from all around screamed and squealed as their master fell to his knees, clawing at his face. Somewhere inbetween all the tiny cries, you thought you heard a much larger one and then a scuffle.

Your chest heaved as you turned on your heel to climb back up over the cage you had just been sitting in. An enraged cry followed your movements, and you were sure thousands of rats were now surging in your direction. Your only hope was that the zap had slowed all of them down, not just the Rat King.

You began to shimmy up the rope keeping Casey and Irma from falling. Old cuts from tumbling on the street earlier opened back up, staining the rope and ends of your sleeves.

Somewhere in the amount of time it took for you to get to the top of the rope, a fight had broken out underneath you. A part of your mind hoped it was Casey holding his own, and the other part really hoped it wasn't. You weren't sure how long his hockey sticks would hold under a tidal wave of sharp teeth and wormy tails.

Sparing a look down, your eyes were assaulted with flashes of green and silver. Surprise over took your features as you watched the guys emerge from the shadows, weapons batting away any adversary that dare to attack.

And was that—?

"Master Splinter?" You choked, and slipped down the rope slightly before scaling back up.

The sensei, sure enough, was in the midst of all the seperate battles. He appeared to battling with himself, clutching the sides of his head as he stumbled around.

A loud call of your name tore your gaze away from him, coming to settle on a struggling Mikey. He was balancing his nunchucks in one hand, and a blob of pink white and brown in the other.

"Mikey!" You yelled back, still hanging on to avoid the swarm of rats approaching. "Is that the cat I gave you? What the hell is going on!"

"We were coming to save you—" He stopped talking as he dodged another wave of rats before popping back up. "—and then sensei just went crazy! He's chasing after the Rat King now!"

You noticed that Mikey purposefully didn't answer your question about the cat, instead just smiling innocently. Filing it away for later, you continued to make frantic conversation.

"Is there anything I can do!?"

"Help get everyone out of these cages! We can't let any of the civilians see us!" Leonardo butted in from somewhere. You couldn't see him, but it sounded like he was wrestling with something. Nonetheless, you nodded, and positioned yourself in preperation to jump off the rope.

It worked. With dificulty, you managed to land on the top of another cage near to Casey and Irma's. It teetered dangerously in the air, and you swung your hands in a windmill like fashion to avoid falling off.

Grabbing at a lone rat that ran over your foot, you held it to the base of the rope. It squirmed in your clutch angrily before latching onto the fibers and chewing. It didn't take long before breaking through it, and you barely managed to grab onto the end of the rope as it seperated itself from the cage.

The cage fell to the ground in a heap. Smiling, you watched the doors lock break on impact and it's captors rush out. They looked back up at you for a second, and you gestured at them to go.

"Help the others if you can!" Was all you had time to say before jumping to another cage.

Rope after rope snapped under your efforts, and cages fell from the sky like rain from heavy clouds. By the time you had reached the last one, you hadn't even noticed that the fighting below had stopped. Now all of the people had fled, and giant rats lay defeated all over the ground.

You dropped from the last rope, chucking the rat you had been using as a makeshift saw into the distance, sincerely hoping that the stupid Rat King felt that.

"I think that's the last of them." Raph spoke. You saw him and his brothers perched on a ledge above you, and waved. Mikey was the only one to wave back, and what you now knew as his cat from earlier copied the movement.

"What about Master Splinter?" Leo worried.

"He can hold his own." You piped up, bringing the rest of their attention down to you. "And I'm pretty sure he's already won. I don't see any more rats scurrying around after all. Either the mental link has been broken, or your dad beat the Rat King."

The boys seemed to consider your words. Leaping down next to you, they all watched as Donatello placed a hand on your head briefly.

"You did a good job helping today." He grinned good naturedly at you as you swiped at his hands, trying desperately to fix your hair. His smile only grew as you stuck your tounge out at him.

"Whatever. Can we leave now? I'm about done with search and rescue missions for today."

Murmurs of agreement rang out, and you all started towards the exit and back to the lair. All you could think about as the turtles bragged on each other about their performance was a nice long nap. Preferably on their couch. Their nice, soft couch.

Master Splinter returned late into the night. His robe was dirty, and paws aching. But his heart lightened at the sight before him; all of his sons curled up in a deep sleep as you yourself snored on the living room floor. April and Casey weren't far off, slumped over in a sitting position as they slept.

Grabbing the remote from Leonardo's limp hand, he turned the TV's volume down. A quiet snort came from you, and Splinter watched as you reached out to grab at something. A soft smile spread agross his face as you latched onto the nearest thing, which just so happened to be Donnie's leg, and began to lean into it.

"Rest well my children." He surveyed you all, eyes shining. "You have done well today."

The door to his dojo swung shut without a sound, and Splinter fell into a deep slumber of his own.

158 notes · View notes

pray4byron · 2 months

Note

goodmorning mio!! i loved my first request, thank you so much for writing it for me! now i got another idea since you asked for more asks! ♥️

a lazy morning with cherri bomb? something simple, but cute!

- abby

omg i’m so glad you enjoyed your first request!! i hope you enjoy this one as well :)

this one was a blast to write haha, so i rlly hope you like it as much as i do!!

Warnings: Swearing, Cherri being… Cherri xD

“Five More Minutes…”

Cherri Bomb x Reader

You approached your girlfriend’s bedroom with a tray in your hands, having made her breakfast for her this morning, well — a most likely mediocre breakfast, as you could only do so much with her chaotic, as well as messy kitchen.

The door creaked a little louder than you were hoping as you opened it, thankfully, Cherri didn’t wake up like you were expecting. Her body was still scrambled out on the bed in a lace bra and plaid pajama pants, her snores filling the room.

As you got closer, putting down the tray which held a variety of breakfast foods onto her night stand, noticing the visible drool the she had left on the sheets. Messy, but messily made for you.

“Cherri.” You mumbled, shaking her softly, she groaned and turned over. She let out some incoherent mumbles into the pillow, slowly reaching to wipe the salvia from her lips.

“Words, baby.” You whispered into her ear, kissing all over her face slowly, in attempts to liven up her mood.

“Five more minutesss…” She said, mumbling against you, as she planted a lazy peck onto your lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully at her antics, “I have something for you, cmon, I have the whole day planned.”

With that, she clearly woke up enough to open her eyes, “Wha..?” She muttered, sitting up against the pillows, “Ta-daaa!” You exclaimed, handing her the tray of what you had made.

She looks down, the tray held a few chocolate-chip pancakes that were in the shape of bombs, with strips of bacon on the side, Cherri’s eyes slightly widen, and her mouth a small ‘o’ shape. “I… I love it…” You were amazed, this is was the quietest you had seen Cherri throughout the entirety of your relationship, you made a mental note to make her breakfast in bed more often.

You plopped next to her in bed as she began to eat, pecking her cheek, “Happy one year, babycakes.”

Cherri’s head whipped, “Whnhrhst?” She asked, her voice muffled by the bacon shoved into her mouth, crumbs falling down her face, and chocolate under her lips from the pancakes.

“Eat first, talk later.” You said with a soft smile. Cherri sallows, wiping any other crumbs off her face. “What?” She asks. “It’s our one year.” You answer.

“Fuck!” She exclaims. “I totally forgot!” She says frowning, you chuckle at her antics, don’t leave her in suspense! Are you mad? Mad at HER?

“I knowww.” You say, giggling at the look on her face, a mixture of shock and guilt. “Baby, I love your forgetfulness, it makes it so much easier to plan surprises.”

You take Cherri’s free hand in yours, squeezing it softly, “Finish up your breakfast, and then let’s get ready, I can’t wait to show you what I have planned for today.”

#hazbin hotel #mio’s writing ! ☆#hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #fanfiction #x y/n #x you #cherri bomb x reader #cherri hazbin hotel #cherri x reader #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel cherri #cherri #abby ! ☆

70 notes · View notes

herozdiary · 4 months

Note

Merry (late) Christmas, hope you got lots of fun gifts (I unfortunately did not get a handsome emo Swedish boy under my tree this year :(( ) !!

Anyhow, I have an idea, Y/N & Simon sharing their first kiss... under the mistletoe!! >:D

Minty chapstick

Simon x reader

This diary entry contains…kissing | established relationship | fluff | reader is super silly |

ANOTHER REQUESTTTT!!!my Christmas was amazing but it would have been better if Simon was under my tree😓ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!

This was supposed to come out obviously WAYY SOONER BUT I GOT HIT WITH A HUGEEE WRITERS BLOCK! PLEASE SEND IN MORE REQUESTS IM RUNNING LOW ON IDEAS🙏🏾🙏🏾

Christmas time was most people’s favorite time of the year,The decorating,The chilly weather and the presents from Santa were always the best.

It would your first Christmas with Simon.You had one main goal for the night was to steal a kiss from him underneath the mistletoe.

You and him never really had your first real kiss yet,The two of you rarely saw each during the week because of school and important day to day life things.

You realized you guys never kissed when all your friends were talking about their first kisses with their partner but when it came to you,You were completely stumped.

It wasn’t like Simon didn’t want to kiss you,he really did but could never find a proper time to.You always wanted to make the first move but just when your about to lean in,he either has to go or you chicken out.

Well that was gonna change this year as you made it to it number one goal to kiss Simon underneath a mistletoe.You went out a day before Simon was supposed to come over which would be on Christmas Eve.

You went to your local store and was able to snag one early in the morning since most people are still sleep by the time the store was first open.

You smile at the store clerk who rings you up.You notice a tube of your favorite mint chapstick.You grab it before handing it to the girl behind the counter who happily scans it.

“Busy morning for you I guess?I never seen someone come this early”The girl speaks up as she bags your two items before tossing in a candy cane.

“I had to get in some early shopping before everyone woke up and the store became crowded”You say while pulling out your card.

The girl nodded,Watching you carefully swipe your card.”You know,Mint chapstick and a mistletoe?Let me guess trying to kiss a certain someone underneath it”The girl asked while watching your receipt print out before ripping it off the machine and placing it in the bag and pushing the bag towards you.

“My boyfriend,It’s our first Christmas together and I just wanted to have a special moment in it”You say while grabbing the bag,Smiling at the clerk.she just nodded before giving you a small smile back.

The walk back home was pretty quiet.most people were still sleeping or just didn’t wanna go out yet.you were a little nervous for tomorrow.what if it doesn’t go well? What if he doesn’t wanna kiss or even worse…what if he hates your mint chapstick.

You loved this brand of chapstick not only because the smell and taste isn’t too strong and it leaves your lips feeling soft and smooth.Of course,Your thoughts were interrupted when you almost walked past your own house.

Once you were inside,You tossed the bag on the couch while taking your coat off and hanging it on the rack.Your main plan was to prepare the mistletoe and to work on Simon’s gifts.You had gotten him some new cds,a new hoodie and a bottle of cologne.

Nothing to fancy just some things you knew he wanted.You went to your room and got changed into a comfy pair of pajamas and got to work.Setting up the mistletoe to was pretty easy.You knew the best place to put it was the hallway leading to your bedroom and other rooms.

The next things were to wrap his gifts.You got on the pretty black and grey wrapping paper and sat down on the floor,You grabbed a pair of scissors and some tape before turning on a Christmas movie.

You forgot how hard it is to wrap gifts but managed to get most of them wrapped.once you were done you slid them underneath your nicely decorated tree.You smile as you stand up and clean up.You didn’t the time as you look and see it would be around the time you would make dinner.

You didn’t feel like making anything big and just settled on a cup of noodles.finishing up your movie and your food you sat on your couch thinking about Simon’s reaction to his gifts.

You knew he would love them mostly because you’ve caught him staring at them when you guys went out.you stare at the now empty cup before placing it on your coffee table and changing the channel to something else.

You ended up falling asleep while watching a random kids show.You didn’t even clean up your mess or anything as you were too tired to even get up.

By the time you did wake up,It was around 8 and Simon was supposed to be there around 10.You silently cursed to yourself as you shot up off your couch and started to pick up your trash.

You took a small shower,Nothing too fancy as you still needed to clean up your room.Once you were out the shower and were in clean pajamas you put things back in their proper place in your room.

You made up your bed and put everything back in the proper place before you heard a small knock on your front door.You looked at the clock to see it was 10:15.You didn’t worry too much as you got most of the chores you needed to do done.

You rushed to the front door,Your Santa slippers you bought squeaking slightly and you took a peak out the peephole and nearly let out a squeal as you undid the locks on your door and threw yourself at Simon,Wrapping your arms around him as he let out a small chuckle while patting your back.

“You missed me?you just saw me like two days ago”He said while walking in while you followed behind and closed your door.”two days?it felt like forever…”You say dramatically as you redo the locks.

Simon rolled his eyes slightly before plopping on your couch and sighing.”I like your tree,My mom hasn’t put ours up mostly because of how much of a hassle it is putting it up and taking it down”he said while leaning his head on the armrest staring up at you.

You shrug while shuffling to the kitchen.”I mostly keep mine up until I have the energy to take it down.”You say while looking in the fridge.You felt your stomach do flips as you grab a coke from the fridge and pop it open and take a small sip before closing your fridge and turning around.

You looked at the mistletoe hanging above the hallway before looking at Simon who was busy staring at the television,Watching the Christmas program on it.

Your eyes flicked through the two before giving yourself a small pep talk in your head about how easy it would be.

You move out of the kitchen into the hallway before positioning yourself underneath it.”Simonnn”You called out while rocking back and fourth on your feet.he turned his focus to you before making a small confused face.You motion him to come towards you which he does with a small groan.

“What is it?”He asks while placing his cold hands on your waist which made you get all giddy inside before you looked up,His eyes following also before you felt his grasp on your waist get tighter before looking back down at you.

“I wanted our first kiss to be special!so I went out a bought a mistletoe yesterday.”You say while wrapping your arms around his neck.You were a little bit scared to lean in until you saw Simon slowly start to lean in,You followed his lead before you felt his chapped lips press up against your much more smoother ones.

You closed your eyes as you pressed your lips harder.You felt your heart beat a bit faster and your head spin a little.you felt Simon’s grip on your waist get tighter before he pulled away.

“Was that good?”He asked while pulling away a little more.You nodded as you into his brown eyes before smiling.”It was perfect”You say while twirling a piece of his hair around your finger.”are you wearing mint chapstick?it tastes kinda nice…wait that sounds kinda weird”Simon rambled on before slightly cringing at the last thing he said.

You just giggle before shaking your head.”I actually bought it just for this occasion,I’m glad to know you like it.”You say while placing a small kiss on the corner of his lips.

The Christmas season had gotten a whole lot better as you spent the rest of the day making cookies,listening to music and watching the Christmas program that was set for that night.Now the next time you hung out with your friend and the mention of first kisses is brought up you have a good story to tell.

#cry of fear #cry of fear x reader #cry of fear x you #simon henriksson #simon henriksson x reader #character x you #video game x reader #fluff #x reader #x y/n

49 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

what if you let them all in on the lie? (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: i am not lying to you when i say storm warning is the only series i’ve ever finished in a timely manner. it’s the power of cowboys. i kind of fucked up the ages a teensy bit so just.. ignore that. author oversight

summary: Rooster learns the truth.

title comes from kelsea ballerinas “homecoming queen”

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | storm warning masterlist | forget what you’ve been told | but i’ve found that time can heal most anything

folks who wanted to be tagged: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @shanimallina87 @abaker74

warnings: swearing, death of both parents, mentions of cancer, kissing, a handful of allusions to sex if you squint, gross overuse of italics

word count: 4,108

He sighed, moving the coffee cup up to his lips as he listened to his friends chatter. They’re discussing their plans for their last day, leaving the small town early tomorrow morning.

He can feel Hangman’s eyes on him, their relationship back to being tense ever since whatever he had going on with Hangman’s girl ended. He hasn’t seen them together since he ended it with her but he assumed they were just trying to keep it on the down low, not hurt his feelings any more than they already did.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, eyes drifting to the figure of Hangman’s girl. She’s in a pair of pajama pants, Navy blue with shooting stars, and a black t-shirt with her high school’s name on it. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes, yawning as she turns the corner and her eyes lock with his own. Swallowing, he looks away, not wanting to talk to her. He can sense Jake standing up but is greeted with the sound of the front door shutting just a few moments later.

Looking back over, he watches Hangman sit back down, sighing and rubbing a hand over his eyes. He takes a sip of his coffee once more.

“The two of y’all still fighting?”

“Yes, of course we are, Em.” Hangman snaps. He almost raises an eyebrow at this, sure they were back together.

“Wasn’t asking you Seresin.” His gaze flickers up to catch Emma’s, realizing she’s talking to him. He doesn’t respond, just stretches out his arms as he moves to cross them. “Shame. Dating one of Jake’s friends severely decreased his chances of being stabbed by his little sister.”

Payback lets out a laugh. “What does Hangman’s little sister have to do with Rooster?”

Hangman- Hangman has a sister?

Tyler threw his friend a confused look. “That... that is Jake’s little sister.”

“Rooster’s been running around with Jake’s little sister.” Madison confirms as he feels his stomach begin to sink.

He’s fucked up.

“You have a little sister?” Fanboy asks, sitting a little straighter from where he’s sprawled out on the floor. “I didn’t know that.”

“I did.” Coyote says, leaning back against the couch. The group collectively turns to their attention to him.“You mentioned her once in passing a few years ago, when your Mom...” He trails off, looking around the room. “You know.”

He very much did not know.

Coyote clears his throat. “Anyways, she looks a lot like you, actually now that I think about it.”

Phoenix eyes grow wide as she turns to look at him. “Oh, you’re stupider than I thought you were Bradshaw.”

Now that’s not fair.

“Okay, no- hang on for a minute Phe, up until two minutes ago I wasn’t even aware Hangman had a sister. I thought she was his ex-girlfriend for Christ’s sake!”

Hangman makes a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s disgusting Bradshaw, this isn’t sweet home Alabama.”

“Do you blame me Seresin? The two of you haven’t gotten along since we got here!”

“I wonder why.” Emma scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Shut up and mind your business Em.” Hangman shoots, eyes narrowing at the girl.

“You made it my business.”

“Actually, Ty made it our business when he convinced us all this was a good idea.” Lucas says, appearing in the doorway, the sound of the front door shutting following his words.

Tyler startles. “Don’t put the responsibility all on me, Madi agreed to having them here.”

She shoots her boyfriend a glare. “You were the one who came to me Ty and had I known this is how it was going to go, I would’ve told you to tell Jake to keep his ass back in San Diego.”

“Et tu, Madi?” Hangman asks, huffing out a dry laugh. She turns to him.

“Your little sister is hurting Jake, and somehow, you fail to see that.”

“No, I see it, but I don’t know why.”

“Oh that’s bullshit Jake.” Riley says, moving off the couch.

“What is going on?” He mouths to Coyote, watching the ranch hands fight. Coyote gives a half shrug, looking every bit bewildered as he feels.

“The reality is Jake, that you know exactly how you’ve fucked up. But instead of taking responsibility for it, like a man, you’re cowering your way out, pretending like you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m not- Ty, back me up here.”

“I don’t disagree with them, Jake. I just thought... I thought that if the two of you were in a room together, after ten years, maybe you could sort your shit out.”

“Ten years?” Coyote exclaims, eyes widening as his head swings towards his best friend.

“Been longer than that at this point.” Emma mumbles.

“Maybe she’d forgive me if she didn’t have Em in her ear, talking her out of it.” Hangman shoots, words dripping with venom. It’s one of the only time he’s seen Hangman’s attacks not be carefully crafted, precise, meant to needle their exact target. It’s messy and angry and all too personal.

“You know what, fuck you Seresin. When you take off again, and you will, because that’s exactly the kind of person you’ve proven yourself to be, it will be me picking you sister back up again. You leaving shattered your sister once, Jake. I don’t think she’ll survive a second time.”

A silence settles over the room as Emma leans back against the back of the couch, tongue pressed in her cheek. “Em-” Hangman tries, voice much softer this time.

“And you know what, no one wants to say it, but it’s time someone addresses it. Your Mom is dead. Your Dad is dead. Your sister was here. And where were you?”

“Emma, you can’t-” Tyler says, but she turns to him.

“Can’t what? Say the truth? It’s about time someone did. Because I mean, fuck his sister right, if he gets to be out, traveling the world for the Navy, right? Fuck her, if it means he gets what he wants.” Emma sighs, standing up from the couch. “Go the fuck back to San Diego, Jake. Do what you do best and leave. But do me a favor this time and stay there.” He watches as Emma moves out of the room, pushing past Madison and Tyler to disappear into the kitchen.

He looks over to Hangman, who is looking down at the floor, eyes glassed over. “Jake, she’s just looking out for your sister, she doesn’t-” Lucas says as Hangman stands up, setting his hat back on his head.

“Yeah, I know.” He says, voice gruff as he slips past Riley, heavy boots sounding against the wood as he walks upstairs. He flinches as a door slams shut and he looks back to Phoenix.

“Phoenix, I am so sorry your engagement trip has been bogged down by all this petty sibling drama. I should’ve- should’ve expected this.” Tyler says, catching his team’s attention. Phoenix shakes her head.

“It’s okay.” She says softly.

“I just thought- I thought maybe they could change things. But I was wrong and I’m sorry because I know y’all came out here to celebrate the two of you.”

“No, it’s okay. Bob and I- we get it. It’s fine, please don’t worry about it.” Tyler nods absentmindedly, like he doesn’t quite believe her. Phoenix swings her head to look at him. “And how are you going to fix this Bradshaw?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll admit that I fucked up, but it’s not worth it. It was never realistic anyways.” She stares at him as he pointedly avoids her look, taking another sip of his coffee. There’s a long pause between the two of them as he continues to count the chips in the peeling paint of the ceiling.

“You’re not letting this go, are you?” Halo asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Absolutely not.”

“Phoenix, how would I even begin to fix it?”

“Groveling would help.”

“Phoenix-”

She grabs his arm, pulling him to his feet. “C’mon Bradshaw, you’re gonna go grovel and explain to your girl that you’re a moron, and patch this right up.”

“Can I at least finish my coffee first?”

“No.” She says, grabbing the cup from him and setting it down on the table with a little more force than necessary. She all but drags him out of the house as he can do little but follow her, walking towards the stables.

He briefly catches the sight of her talking to Bob, still in her pajamas, as she paces barefoot. She catches sight of him and Phoenix and pauses, chest heaving.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling a little silly. “Hi Cowgirl.”

You cross your arms. “You have an eavesdropping problem.”

Bob locks the stall door they had been at and moves to Phoenix, slipping his hand into hers. “We’re gonna go back inside. We’ll see the two of you in there, yeah?”

“Remember what I said Bradshaw! Don’t want to see you again till you’ve groveled!” Phoenix shouts over her shoulder as she leaves with Bob. He looks up at the roof of the stables, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

“Can’t believe I’m a grown adult being lectured by my friends.”

“Kind of think you deserve it.”

He doesn’t disagree.

“We should talk.”

You nod. “Yeah, let’s talk.” The two of you walk out of the stables, settling at a picnic table not too far from them. It’s old, the paint peeling, and he takes it as a good sign when you settle next to him instead of across from him.

“I- I should start by saying I’m sorry. I, kind of stupidly, thought you were Hangman’s ex.”

“So I’ve been told.” You murmur quietly, picking at the skin on your fingernails.

“He’s just- he’s never told us about a sister so I didn’t even- and well, I- I liked you a lot.”

It’s the first time he’s said the words out loud, really contemplated the fact that he liked Hangman’s sister quite a bit more than he originally anticipated.

“Liked, past tense?”

“Like, present tense.” He corrects, taking one of your hands. “The thought that you might end back up with him- it scared me and uh, I didn’t want to be the pawn in whatever was going on between you and him.”

“You were never a pawn. My issues with my brother remain the same but I’m not the type of person to just... use someone in that way.”

He swallows, nodding as he squeezes your hand. “I believe you. I should’ve asked, but I didn’t, I assumed, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I figure I could’ve said something but- when someone hurts you deeply like that, it’s just- it’s hard to explain.”

“I get it. Trust me, I get it.”

If anyone understood betrayal, and the anger that came with it, it was him.

“You know, he wasn’t here. My mom died of cancer when I was a freshman in college and he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here when I graduated from UT. He wasn’t here when Dad died. He left me alone and it’s been years and I just- He got out, got to see the whole goddamn world, and I was here, stuck in this shitty little country town, playing ranch hand until I died.” His grip on her hand tightens as he looks down at you. “I didn’t- I’m so tired of having to be the perfect one, the one to keep it together. To be the one to stay.”

“Hey, you don’t have to anymore. You’ve got quite a few good friends in there and for what it’s worth, I’m here too.”

He’s not entirely sure you processed his words as you shake your head. “Well, anyways, I’m sorry you and your friends got caught in the middle of all that.”

He shakes his head, turning to press a soft kiss to your forehead, choosing to let it go. You let him, leaning into his side. “Don’t worry about any of that. What matters to me is if this between us is still fixable.”

You look up at him. “I hope it is.”

He nods as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Unlike the other times he’s kissed you, it’s slow, more meaning rather than passion. The feeling he felt that first night he met you is back and he knows he’d be a fool to walk away again.

You pull away first but don’t go far, leaning your forehead against his own. “I wish we had more time.” You whisper, barely reaching his ears.

“Me too.” He presses another kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure something out.” You look up at him.

“Yeah?”

He nods, confirming. “Yeah, if you want to put up with my dumbassery, then I’d be a fool to let you out of my sights again.” You let out a light laugh.

“Oh Bradshaw, if you only knew.”

It’s you who initiates the kiss this time, hands finding the edges of his flannel to pull him against you. He breaks the kiss, ducking his head.

“We should get inside. Shower. Start the day.”

You snort, leaning your nose into his cheek. “Yeah, showering. That’s what we’ll be doing.”

Phoenix grabs your arm as the group makes their way back inside the house, returning from their last night celebration. It was originally meant to be just their team but Bradley had asked you to come along, and Phoenix and Bob had just smiled and said the more the merrier.

Jake was noticeably absent the whole day and didn’t make an appearance the whole night.

You watch the kitchen door shut behind Bradley as you turn to face her and Bob, who are both smiling at you. “Hey, so what’re you doing a year from now?”

You shrug, slipping your hands into your back pockets. “Probably here. Why?”

Bob and Phoenix exchange a look. “Well, we wanted to formally invite you to our wedding.” Bob says, eyes gleaming with a hint of nerves.

You raise an eyebrow, suddenly struggling to breathe. “I mean- yeah, if you want me there, of course I’ll be there.” You say, words coming out in a breathless rush.

Phoenix smiles wide, reaching over to pull you into a hug. “”M so happy to hear that, because we’ve all enjoyed getting to know you.” You smile as you hug her.

“Thanks for letting me into the group.”

“Well, Bradley seems to really like you so we’d best be keeping you around.” You laugh as you turn, pushing the kitchen door open. Your friends are there and your brother is leaned up against the stove. You hop on to the counter to sit next to Bradley and smile at him as he hands you a beer from the fridge. There’s a silence as Phoenix and Bob take seats at the table that continues as you all sit there.

“We should talk before I leave, kid.” Jake says softly.

“I don’t really think I have anything left to say to you Jake.”

He sighs. “Kid-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? That name was reserved for someone who cared about me, something you haven’t done in years.”

“That’s not true.”

Your eyes widen. “It’s not? Okay, did you care when you left with no goodbye? Did you care when your little sister was left all alone with our abusive father? Did you care when you didn’t call when Mom got sick or when you didn’t show up for her funeral? Is it caring, hm, to show up after more than a decade of radio silence? What the fuck about any of that is caring?” He doesn’t say anything and you take that as a cue to continue. “No, the only person you care about and look out for is you, Jake. What you fail to see about all of this, isn’t just the fact that you left. It’s the fact that you didn’t come back.”

“What would you have me done? You know just as well as I did that I was not welcome back here.”

“You could’ve called. Picked up the phone. Showed up after Dad died. Not left your 15 year old sister alone in this godforsaken house. God, Jake I know. I grew up here too. I know what it was like, but you have had chance after chance to fix things. To reach out. To say hey, I’m sorry for leaving and letting everything fall to you and carry lifelong burdens starting at the age of 15. But you haven’t done any of that. Instead, you skirted your responsibilities and left me here to carry the weight alone, to be stuck and pigeon-holed in this life I don’t want, just so you could get out. I had to bury our mother alone Jake.”

He sighs, crossing his arms. Another silence falls over the room as he thinks over your words. His voice is gruff one he does speak. “Okay, kid, I hear you and I’m sorry. I am sorry. I can’t imagine what that was like, what this has been like, for you and I would like to fix it.”

You huff, sliding off the counter. “Too little, too late Jake.” The kitchen door swings shut behind you as you walk through the house to the front door, wanting to escape to the porch swing and night air.

You all but collapse on the swing as the front door slams shut behind you. It’s not long that you’re out there alone as the screen door creaks open again, revealing Bradley. He wordlessly walk to the porch swing and you move to allow him to sit next to you. He doesn’t say anything as he opens his arms to pull you close and you take the invitation, crawling into his side.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with him, the porch swing gently swinging from the force of him rocking it as you sit curled into his side. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” You finally say, unsure what else to say about the exchange you and your brother had had. He squeezes your shoulder.

“’S okay.” He doesn’t say anything more as he begins to rub soft circles into your shoulder. There’s another pause as you look out over the vast emptiness of the driveway and night sky. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?”

You shrug. “I don’t know if I can.” You whisper, a fear unfurling in your chest that you may not ever be able to forgive him. “I’ve been angry for so long that- I don't know if I know how to not be.”

He doesn’t stop his movements as he nods. “I understand.” There’s another pause as he moves you to be able to look into your eyes. “He is sorry though. Genuinely.”

“I- I just- I’m his sister. I deserved more.”

He nods again as he reaches on of his hands out to cup your face. “I agree.”

“And you know, it’s not like it’s all been shitty. I have great friends, a good job, and I haven’t hated home as much since Dad died. But I’ve always wanted more. I never got to have more because of the choices he made.”

“What’s stopping you now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, your Dad is dead. You have no more tethers here. You could... get out. Take the chance to explore the world.”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, I’m- My time, my chance, to have more has come and gone. These people need me and my place is here.”

He sighs, crossing his arms. “I just think you’d be happier if you stopped being afraid of taking the risk to seek more.”

You swallow, unsure about how to respond. Your chest ached at the thought of leaving this place you had so long called home, with these people who you’d known all your life. But what made your chest ache even more was the thought of never getting out. Of staying here, because he wasn’t wrong, that you were afraid. Of not seeing the world, of never knowing more than this.

“I’m terrified.” You finally admit softly, hoping the words will be lost to the night. “I’m terrified that I’m not as bright as I think I am, that I won't be as good out there as I am here, that I’ll walk way like he did, and not have a home to come back to, just like he did.”

Bradley pulls you close once more. “Don’t worry honey, I’ve got you. I’ll be right here in case you fall.”

The morning chill sweeps through you as you hug Bradley, not wanting to let go.

“This isn’t goodbye.” He whispers into your ear, as the pilots stand around you, getting their bags loaded in the cars and saying their final goodbyes. “It’s just see you later.”

You nod. “I know.” You swallow, not wanting to cry again in front of this boy you met just a handful of days ago. “Just gonna miss you.”

He pulls back to cup your face. “Hey, I’ll still be here, just a phone call away. I’ll see you before you know it.”

Last night, long after your conversation about Jake had passed, you and Bradley discussed the two of you. Where you went from here. While not ready to label things quite yet, you both agreed that you weren’t planning to date any one else moving forward. You guys had time to figure the rest out.

You had all the time in the world.

“I know.” You whisper softly as he leans down to kiss you.

Kissing never seems to stop taking your breath away. It’s full of words neither of you know how to say just yet. You cling to his UVA sweatshirt as he pulls away. His eyes flicker over your shoulder and he straightens up.

“Sorry, it’s your brother.” You glance over your shoulder to see Jake standing off to the side, eyeing the two of you with a hard look on his face. “You gonna say goodbye?”

You sigh. “Probably should, shouldn’t I?” He nods.

“Think that’d be best.”

You take a step back, Bradley letting you go. You turn, walking towards your brother, who raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. You stick out your hand, offering him a small smile. “Don’t be a stranger, Jake.” He eyes your hand as he sighs, taking it and pulling you into a hug. You blink, feeling tears sting your eyes at being this close to him after so many years. “You stay safe out there, okay?”

“Same goes for you kid. No more horse-related injuries.”

“No promises.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulders as he laughs, pulling away.

“Alright pilots, let’s hit the road. Y’all gonna miss your flight if we don’t head out.” Tyler says, shutting the trunk of one of the two cars, Riley and Lucas taking the other. Jake squeezes your shoulder as he walks towards the car, pulling Tyler into a hug. Emma and Madison come to stand behind you as Bradley jogs over, pulling you into one last kiss.

“For the road.” He whispers. You smile into his lips.

“Stay safe, Cowboy.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek as Phoenix calls out for him and he turns, heading towards the car. Emma wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into her side as the cars pull out of the driveway. The three of you wave goodbye, watching them pull down the path. Madison wraps an arm around your waist as you stand there, even after they’ve driven away.

“You gonna be okay?” She asks. You shrug.

“Just hope it’s not the end.” Emma squeezes your shoulder.

“Even if it is, we’ll be here. And if not, if this is the door to the rest of your life, then we’ll still be here.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the two girls to pull them into a group hug.

“Y’all want pancakes? ‘M starving.” Madison says after a moment, stepping back from the hug, and you nod as the three of you turn towards the house. Emma keeps her arm around slung around your shoulder as you walk through the creaky screen door.

“Hey, for the record, I’m expecting my invitation to the Seresin-Bradshaw wedding.” She says and the three of you burst out into laughter, your soul feeling a little lighter.

Maybe this was it.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fics #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fics #storm warning

203 notes · View notes

ms-snape · 1 year

Text

FIRST MEETING

Plot: Pablo Gavi meets his best friend's sister, and develops feelings for her that are more than friendship.

Note: I just decited to name the reader Maria because well why not?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Maria POV

I look at the landscape paraded in front of me thinking of my life will begin after the landing of this plane, I still suffered from Theo's betrayal, after two and a half years of relationship I had learned that he was cheating on me with my best friend , and to say that I was ready to spend the rest of my life with this jerk.

I had been too caught up in my thoughts to notice that the plane was landing taking me back to my home, Barcelona, I was especially looking forward to seeing my big brother again.

《Maria!》I was called, I turn to a smiling Pedro.

《Pedro!》 I hug him, I missed his hug, I hadn't seen him in person since I went to college in Los Angeles, but despite that we didn't go a day without us call and I had made it my mission to watch all these matches one by one he had never liked Theo always telling me that I deserved better, now I realize that I should have listened to him.

《give me your suitcases you must be exhausted from the flight》 he begs me for my luggage, before dragging me to the car outside, on his way to his house his phone starts ringing, I can see the letters P. G appear on the screen, I don't pay much attention to his conversation but when he hangs up he is talking to me.

《 Do you mind if we take a detour to the training place.》 I shrug my shoulders in response which makes him change his route.

Pablo's pov

I'm waiting for pedri to come over to start the workout, he said he had to go fix something but refused to tell me what it was.

"Finally, it took you a long time...》 I immediately shut up when I noticed that he was accompanied by a beautiful brunette.

"yeah i know i had to pick up my sister from the airport" the only thing i heard was the end of her sentence since i couldn't take my eyes off the girl next to her, but i managed to try again to ask him.

" your sister ?"

《 yeah you know, I've already told you about her, so Pablo I present to you Maria Gonzalez, and Maria I present to you Pablo Gavi》 it was then Maria, the Maria in Pedro often talk to me as her little sister beloved who had been in a relationship for 2 years with a man who did not approve at all because he refused that she came to Barcelona, that bastard.

After training, night falls

Pablo's pov

I was driving to Pedro's house and couldn't get the youngest Gonzalez out of my head, I knew it was wrong since she was in a relationship, but I couldn't help it, I wasn't stealing anything more from the world what does it take to know her but i doubt she will stay too long because of her stupid boyfriend, Pedro had already told me about him and how much he knows, he always said he made her life miserable, she never gets the chance to come and visit her brother or assist Alain with our matches, and besides, I wondered if she had come with him to Barcelona.

I had finally arrived, the light came on from the house to prove that he was still awake, I got out of the car with a sigh and rang the doorbell.

《Pablo?》 A female voice opened the door for me and I was greeted by a most beautiful view, in front of me was Maria, wearing pajamas that didn't hide much, her hair was loose in a natural curl and the cherry on top the cake was the beautiful glasses she wore, I didn't know if it was the beauty of the glasses that affected hers, or if it was her beauty that affected the glasses.

《Uhm... I.. I....came to....Pedro, he called me to...well you know, spend an evening with guys》 I say after finally pulling myself together, I watch her step back a bit from the door to let me in, which of course I do.

"Do you want something to drink?" She asked me with a soft voice.

《Um, no thanks》I stood in the living room waiting for Pedro, I prayed that he would arrive soon because I couldn't stay a minute closer to his sister without wanting to throw myself on her.

《 hi, sorry for the delay I was taking a shower》 Pedro finally arrived, he turned to his sister before asking her.

《 Want to join us for a FIFA night?》 God no! If she played with us I would only be focused on her.

《 no, it's ok, go have fun with the boys, you don't want me to prepare snaps for you or something like that. Of interrogation and before you say no to me know that my room is next to the kitchen and that it is out of the question that I hear noises at night》 she proposed to us, Pedro smiled at her before nodding his head.

We had started playing FIFA but his phone rang forcing us to take a break from our game, he made his call in the garden, so I had no choice but to always wait for him in the living room, suddenly a shattering sound girl hear, it came from the kitchen.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

That's it that's all.

Thank you for reading and see you soon for a new imagine.

Kiss 💗

#football player #imagine #football love #football #first meeting #pablo gavi #pedri gonzalez #gavi × reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi #pablo × reader #love at first sight #best friend #barcalona

65 notes · View notes

nysocboy · 7 months

Text

Cousin George: "Only fools wear pajamas"

I'm starting a new series of autobiographical stories with a Gemstone connection, mostly South Carolina or megachurch-related. First up: Cousin George:

He was the son of my father's older brother, just my age, tall and blond, with a hard chest, a thin belly, and a Southern drawl. He lived in Walterboro, South Carolina, about 50 miles from Charleston but a thousand miles from Rock Island, so we visited only a few times during my chiildhood. Usually my Grandma Davis took me down on the train. What I remember most about my visits: the sizzling heat, the humidity, and the beefcake. No one in South Carolina owned a shirt. I had never seen so many muscular bodies.

And the racial diversity: Cousin George had friends who were Native American and Chinese, and even black (I never saw anyone black in heavily-segregated Rock Island).

We went fishing and crabbing, and Cousin George warned me to avoid the "dead man's fingers" inside the crab shells that would turn you into "a goon."

We went swimming in the warm salty Atlantic Ocean.

At night Cousin George and I took our baths together together in scalding-hot water, and then slept naked together under thin sheets -- "only fools wear pajamas," he insisted.

When I was 13, Grandma Davis got sick, and the train-visits stopped. We didn't stay in contact. Occasionally my father would tell me something about his three older sisters, but he never mentioned Cousin George. Apparently my uncle never mentioned him. Was he dead, or disinherited, or a disappointment?

Years later, when I was a visiting assistant professor in Florida, I got a job interview at a college in South Carolina, and afterwards I thought I'd look up my relatives. I visited my uncle and aunt, and Cousin Suzie, and then I asked about Cousin George.

They all exchanged glances. "Oh��um…we don't talk to him much," Cousin Suzie said. "He lives in Charleston." She said it with palpable disgust, like it was a cesspool of immorality.

"That's only an hour away," I pointed out. "And it's on my way home."

"Oh…um…he's busy with his own affairs, is all."

What would cause such obvious discomfort? I wondered. Only three things:

My South Carolina relatives were all strict Nazarenes. Maybe George was a backslider.

They were somewhat racist. Maybe George was in an interracial relationship.

Maybe he was gay.

Turns out: all three!

They gave me the address in Charleston -- they didn't have a phone number -- and I drove down. A massive African-American bodybuilder-type answered the door. Rod, the boyfriend!

Cousin George came home from work about an hour later, a massive blond bodybuilder-type (this isn't him, either).

We went out to dinner at the Boar's Head, a gay-friendly restaurant, and talked about bodybuilding and our jobs and romances, and the difficulty of dealing with fundamentalist relatives.

"You should have known about me back when we were kids," Cousin George said. "Why do you think I wanted to take baths together?"

"And sleep naked," Rod added. "'Only fools wear pajamas.'" They exchanged a glance and laughed.

Apparently he had heard a lot about my visits.

No, I didn't hook up with my cousin. But I did discover that both Rod and George still slept without pajamas.

The story with illustrations (no nudity) is on RIghteous Gemstones Beefcake and Boyfriends

#the righteous gemstones #Gemstone Connection #South Carolina #autobiography #Cousin George #bodybuilder #gay couple #evangelical homophobia

2 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years

Note

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tony stark

3K notes · View notes

arizona2004 · 2 years

Text

Homewrecker...

Part 2 Part 3

Cassian x Fem! reader

Warnings: smut. And when there isn’t smut it’s still a little dirty. (I’m a horny slut and I make no apologies for that). Enjoy!

Note: mentions of Cassian x Nesta(currently and formerly) Cassian x reader(current and endgame)

Word count: 5316

“I can take care of myself,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It was just an offer, y/n. If you don’t want me to train you, that’s fine, but you keep mentioning wanting to learn how to fight,” Cassian replies, holding his hands up in a defensive pose.

You bite my lip in consideration, knowing your answer should remain a no. Getting closer to Cassian is only going to hurt you in the long run. That’s what you tell yourself, but when you open your mouth, what comes out is, “yes.”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your voice, but before you can take it back, Cassian grins wider than you’ve ever seen and says, “good! I’ll wake you tomorrow for our first session.”

You grumble at that, knowing he’ll be knocking on your door at dawn, and shut the door in his face. Oh, fuck! This is not good. Cassian, who you’ve had a crush on for the past few decades, is going to be training you. You imagine that: his body in those leathers, sweat rolling down his face, his hair pulled back in a bun- you cut your thoughts off as wetness pools between your legs. Cassian, who is mated, will be training you, you remind yourself: mated to the high lady’s-your best friend-sister. You’ve never met Nesta yourself; she tends to stay at her and Cassian’s house. She never really repaired things with her sisters, and the only connection she has to them anymore is through Cassian.

Maybe if you just knew Nesta or had known Cassian was mated to her when you met him, this crush never would have developed. You hadn’t even smelled her on him when you’d met him, and most days, you still barely did.

Perhaps their relationship isn’t going well, you think to yourself and then hate the thought as hope builds in your gut.

The next morning Cassian is knocking on your door when the sun has yet to rise. You had spent the night tossing and turning in bed, wishing Cassian was beside holding you, rocking you to sleep. You know it’s stupid. This is just a childish crush, you need to get over it, but you just can’t let the thought of him go. So even though light has barely begun illuminating the sky, you roll out of bed because at least this means you get to spend time with him.

You fling the door open and look up at him with heavy eyes.

“You can’t wear that to train,” he says, eyes running down your frame. You realize then that, of course, he is seeing you in your pajamas-panties and an oversized shirt that falls to mid-thigh. Yawning, you stretch your entire body like a cat while Cassian stands in the door frame and watches, eyes following every movement of your limbs. After a moment, you rub the tiredness out of your eyes and mumble something about getting dressed. You swing the door closed and turn to your closet but turn back to the door when you don’t hear it close. Cassian stuck his foot in the door, stopping it.

You watch as he walks over to your bed and plops down on his tummy, closing his eyes. You watch him for a moment before saying, “Hmm, you never struck me as a “lays on his tummy” guy.” His eyes peek open and immediately find you.

“Wings,” he says. His only response before closing his eyes. You hadn’t considered it would be uncomfortable for him to lay on his back.

Turning back to the closet, you change into clothes appropriate for working out and return to ask the question you’ve been pondering for the past few minutes, “does it hurt to lay on your back?”

His eyes open slowly again, and this time when they look at you, they seem to spend an extra second on your curves, “Illyrian wings are… sensitive,” he murmurs, sitting up to stretch. His shirt rides up, offering a peek of his hard abdomen and that beautiful v-thing muscled males seem to have.

You suppress the groan that wants to crawl up your throat and say instead, “You seem tired. I was under the impression that you were a morning person,” his response is only to look at you with a searching look, “it’s everyone's least favorite thing about you.”

He huffs out a laugh at that and finally replies, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Of course,” you say, realizing, “as a mated male, your nights must be very long.”

He laughs harder at that, making you blush; you hadn’t meant it humorously, “no, it’s not that. Not at all,” he replies, finally standing and walking to the door. And you follow, praying to the mother above, he goes easy on you.

He didn’t. Training with Cassian was long and exhausting and not made any easier by your intrusive thoughts about his body. You couldn’t help but look at his sweat-soaked face and picture him above you, exhausted from pounding his huge co-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Mor calls your name, “Y/n! You alright?” she asks. You’re sitting at the breakfast table in the house of wind-where you live- and everyone is looking at you.

They can scent you, you realize. Your face becomes incredibly red, and you squeak out, “yes,” before quickly standing and rushing off, embarrassedly, to your bedroom. At least they can’t sense who you were thinking about. Then you remember Feyre and Rhys and check to ensure your mental shields are still up. You let out a sigh of relief when you find them fully intact and collapse onto the bed.

Eventually, training with Cassian gets easier. And more fun. You are getting to know him and find it makes getting rid of this crush thousands of times more difficult. Training with him has become something you look forward to daily. You begin waking up with a smile on your face at the sound of his knocking on your door. He never fails to make you laugh, but training stays mostly professional until he takes making you laugh to another level.

You're practicing in hand-to-hand combat, and he has you in a hold after you attempt a low blow. His firm body is pressed against your back, and he leans forward, his panting breath ruffling your hair, “you can do better than that, y/n,” his lips brush against your neck, and you don’t want to pull away. You have to, though, so stomping on his foot, you twist your ankle around his leg and knock him to the floor.

You're sitting atop him, now, and you think this might be worse than before. You’re pinning his arms when faster than you can block: he juts a knee into your side only hard enough to get his wrists free and tickle your armpits.

A squeal slips from your throat as he flips you over and finds your most ticklish spots: under your arms, your neck, your hip bones. He’s pressing his thumbs into your hips, making you curl up into a ball as breathless laughs leave your throat, and he chuckles above you. He pulls back, though, at the sound of the door opening. The next moment he is several feet away, and you are both trying to catch your breath.

“Since when has training with Cassian ever involved laughing?” Rhys’ voice echoes from the door.

“Never, as far as I can recall. I only remember bruises and the urge to hit him in the face,” Azriel replies beside him.

You look up, and they’re both standing there looking between the two of you, but you notice Cassian isn’t looking at anyone; he’s polishing a sword across the room, now. Rhys starts staring at Cassian's back curiously, but Azriel is looking at you. It seems he has already deciphered the questions Rhys has for Cassian, but he hasn't figured you out.

You return his stare for a long moment until he seems to decide something. He nods slightly at you and offers a soft smile. You pull yourself off the ground and go to get a drink of water across the room. Both Azriel and Rhys approach Cassian to discuss whatever it is they came up here for, but you tune it out in favor of focusing on steadying your breaths and easing your laugh-sore throat.

When you get back to your bedroom, you strip out of the clothes you designated for training. They’re not leathers like Cassians; he said he’d get you some when and if you start training with weapons. For right now, though, training just consists of exercise and fighting. So you slip out of the comfortable shorts and tank top and start the bath.

You take your time in the tub, letting your muscles relax after training. You try not to think about Cassian and fail. Your mind keeps drawing back to him and how easy it was to be near him. How comfortable it was. Eventually, you slip out of the tub and, after drying off wrap yourself in a robe. Walking back into the room, you towl out your hair and head to the brush sitting on your vanity, but stop when you see the male lying face down in your bed.

“Enjoying tummy time?” you ask, tightening your robe and continuing to the vanity. You don’t miss the grin that spreads across his face, though, and pride swells in your heart for being the one to make him smile.

“Mmm,” is his reply. Then, “you were in there a long time.”

You scoff at his implication and plop down on the edge of the bed at his side. He peeks his eyes open and follows the movements of the brush in your hair.

“You have a lot of hair,” he mumbles, not moving his eyes from the brush, “is that my you always pull it up?”

“Mostly, yes,” you reply, “it gets in the way.”

“You never braid it.”

You stop brushing and drop your hand to your lap; his eyes don’t follow. They move to study your face instead, “I would, but I’m not very good at it.”

“I could braid your hair,” he says, sitting up now. I haven’t tried in a little while, but I don’t think I’ve forgotten entirely.”

And that’s how you end up seated next to Cassian on your bed while he twists and tugs pieces back into a tight french braid. When he’s done, he smiles proudly and makes you look in the mirror. When you assure him it’s better than any braid you could have attempted, and he has finished grumbling about how he’s “rusty” and “needs to improve,” you end up promising to let him practice with your hair while staring at him while you lay in bed together. You don’t even realize how intimate it is to have him lying in your bed until your eyes are falling closed, and he’s the last thing you see.

When you wake, Cassian is lying on his stomach next to you. His head is turned toward you, and you’ve never seen him so relaxed. He looks peaceful, and you wish you could spend every day like this, just near him and his calm energy. But you knew that would never happen, so instead, you closed your eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of his presence. The way the bed dipped where he lay and the room smelled less like your room and more like him. You breathe in his scent, which seems to jolt him awake.

He sits up suddenly, so you open your eyes and blink up at him, “I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he mumbles, more to himself than you.

But you respond anyways, “you said yourself, you haven’t been sleeping well, you needed some rest.”

Cassian nods slightly, acknowledging your words, and stands, “I have to go,” he says, turning to you but not looking you in the eye.

“Okay,” is the only response you can muster, “bye,” you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear before he shuts your bedroom door behind him.

Days pass, but you haven’t spent any with Cassian the way you did that one. He would come by at dawn and lay in your bed while you dressed, then he would braid your hair into different styles, and finally, the two of you would train. Sometimes you would see him at meals if he attended them with other members of the inner circle. None of this was out of the ordinary, and you wouldn’t expect anything different Azriel had taken an interest in you, though. For whatever reason, he found reasons to watch you. He’d watch you train sometimes or sit next to you at meals. He hardly spoke to you, and when he did, he was asking questions. The entire thing felt like an interrogation, but you didn’t want to ask Rhys if you had done something wrong for him to question your trust, so you just tried to ignore it.

Cassian is coming to get you for Rhys’s surprise birthday party soon, so currently, you are sprawled out on your bed attempting to button your favorite pair of jeans that hardly fit over your ass anymore.

Cassian laughs at the sight of you trying to pull the jeans further up your hips, “I don’t think those fit, sweetheart.”

‘Sweetheart,’ your heart skips a beat at the name, and you freeze. He only meant it jokingly, you tell yourself and continue tugging at the pants.

“We’re gonna be late at this rate,” Cassian grumbles, coming over to tug on your jeans. He doesn’t pull up, though he starts pulling them off your body. You kick at him, making him back away and try to hide your blushing face. You’ve spent so many nights dreaming of Cassian pulling off your pants and touching your bare legs, but not like this. Not this.

“It’s your fault,” you reply, “you have me doing too many squats or something. My ass is huge.”

“Your ass is fine,” he says seriously, eyes traveling down to gaze at the roundness of your behind. You throw a pillow at him, making him avert his gaze. He catches the pillow and throws it back before walking into your closet to pick out a new outfit for you to wear.

He picks out another pair of pants for you to wear, but they, too, won’t fit. Leggings seem a bit too casual for a night out at Rita’s, so you’ve given up on choosing what you will wear. Cassian’s still rummaging around your closet and swearing about your terrible sense of fashion while you lay on your bed. He comes out a minute later and doesn’t even let you get up. Falling to his knees before you, he grabs your leg, pulling it toward himself.

Your breath catches in your throat, “what are you doing?”

He doesn’t look up at you but instead starts shimmying black tights onto your legs. He scrunches each side up at the bottom, enabling him to swiftly pull them onto your feet and swiftly drag them up your legs, “I’m helping you so this goes faster,” he mumbles as he reaches your hips and drags the tights between your bed and butt so that they can rest at your waist. “And tomorrow, I’m taking you shopping,” he mumbles, tossing a little black dress at you.

When she walks into the closet to grab shoes, you pull the dress over your head and tug it down your hips. It’s a bit more of a tight fit than intended, but it works. You continue tugging it down as Cassian walks up behind you and pulls and pulls your hair to the side. He wraps a pearl necklace around your throat and clasps it behind you. You stare confused for a moment, and he walks to your jewelry box a grabs similar earrings. When he places the earrings in your hand, you are quick to put them in and slip into the short heels he set out for you. Nodding in approval, Cassian gently pulls you by the wrist out the bedroom door.

“This necklace isn’t mine,” you say as he continues tugging you to the dining room. When you arrive at the balcony doors, and he still hasn’t said anything-so unlike, Cassian- you ask, “Where did it come from?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he replies curtly, grabbing you by the waist to be pressed against him. You breathe in sharply and stiffen against him; he looks down at your head pressed against his abdomen and his eyebrows furrow, his head tilting to the side, “It’s only me, y/n. Relax,” he whispers, rubbing circles onto your back before shooting into the sky.

You squeal at the sudden departure, to which Cassian responds with a chuckle. It’s a short flight to Rita’s, and when you land on the roof, Cassian jumps from the edge and gracefully glides on the wind, leading you to the ground below.

Landing, you feel slightly unsteady and almost miss the feeling of flying. You stare at Cassians wings for a moment; reaching out a hand, you stop your fingers a breath away from the thin skin. You feel Cassians stare, but he doesn’t say anything, so you just whisper, “I wish I could fly,” you know your voice comes out dreamy and almost sad, but you don’t care.

Glancing at Cassian, he looks slightly hopeful and anxious, “we should go inside,” his voice sounds gravelly, and suddenly you feel as though you’ve done something very wrong, but you and Cassian aren’t even touching you didn’t do anything.

The pair of you walk into Rita’s a little tense and awkward, but as soon as you reach the private setting area in the dark corner at the back, that falls away. Your friends greet you, and you listen to the complaints about your tardiness which Cassian blames entirely on your lack of clothes, and you can’t help but smile at his comments, retorting with ones about his inability to be satisfied with anything less than perfect.

The table soon fills with stories about Cassians perfectionism and all the drama that it has called. He ended up with a black eye from Feyre on more than one occasion when he asked too much of her during training, and she had enough. According to Azriel, you should never get between Cassian and food because if you try cooking something or altering his food, it will either end in a “physical beating or worse: him talking about proper cooking etiquette for an hour.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one and glance to Cassian for confirmation. He only says, “if you tasted anything these idiots have tried to cook, you would understand why I have to keep them away from kitchens.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to end up on the dance floor, and when they do, Amren quietly slips away, and you are left in the booth with Cassian. You watch the others dance for a few minutes but stop when you feel Cassian’s eyes on you and turn to look at him.

“I don’t hate all your clothes,” he says as soon as your eyes meet. You sit confused for only a second before he elaborates, “earlier when we were all talking and you called me a perfectionist and I complained about your lack of style. I didn’t want you to think I hate the way you dress.”

You understand what he is saying but remain confused. Why does he care about some comment he made? I wasn’t dwelling on it.

“I quite like the way you dress actually,” he continues, “you are a rather beautiful female,” your cheeks flush at his last comment, and you turn away quickly to begin sipping your drink.

“Thanks,” you mumble around your straw. You can still feel his eyes on you, though, even while you watch the others dance.

And when your drink is nearly gone, and you set it on the table, he whispers, barely audible, “do you want to dance?” You whip your head toward him and notice he’s sitting closer to you know, motioning for you to stand from the booth. When you do, he quickly follows and pulls you by the hand. He walks you into the crowd, away from all your friends, and pulls you to him.

You don’t stand close enough together to think he’s coming on to you, but the fact that he wanted to dance in general is baffling to you. “You looked like you wanted to dance too,” he says, answering your unspoken questions, “but I know how shy you can be, and I figured you wouldn’t get up the nerve to dance with a stranger,” the song is slowing down now, and Cassian is standing a little closer, his hands on your hips tightening.

You stand with him like that for several more slow songs. Wrapped up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. You almost forget that he’s a mated male. That he is not yours and you are not his. You do forget. For a song, you forget, and when the song ends, and he looks at the clock, you remember he has to go home soon- home to someone else.

While his eyes still stare at the clock, you pull back and move toward the table. A moment later, he’s at your side, “Is something wrong?”

“You’ve danced with me plenty, Cassian. Thank you. I did want to dance, so thank you for offering, but you’ve fulfilled your friendship duties, there’s no need to dance more,” you turn away again and continue walking to the table, and Cassian is only a few paces behind.

“Where have the two of you been?” Feyre asks as you slide into the booth beside her.

“Y/N said I look like I, and I quote, ‘don’t know how to dance,’” Cassian responds, “so obviously, I had to prove her wrong.”

You look to him seated next to you and wonder why? Why lie? But he doesn’t look your way. However, Azriel, you notice, is looking at you. You return his stare but gain nothing but more questions from it.

When you arrive back to your room late that night, you’re sad and horny. You’re not sure if you need to cry or put your hand between your legs to relieve yourself of the ache. You know if you do, though, you’ll end up thinking of him, and while it would be great for getting off, the idea of thinking about him while masturbating seems wrong. Like you’d be violating him somehow, or the friendship you’ve built.

In the end, you just end up staring at the ceiling. You don’t cry, but your heart aches for the feeling of Cassian flying you over Velaris and spinning you around Rita’s. Eventually, you fall asleep, dreading having to wake up in a few hours.

You don’t, though; Cassian never comes to get you. You wake a half-hour after he should have been at your door, and still exhausted, walk up to the training room. He’s in there, punching through a bag hard enough to knock off the ceiling a send it skidding your way.

Cassian falls to his knees, looking like he’s been out here for more than an hour. You notice then that he’s not in his leathers, but rather the dress clothes he wore last night. You walk over to him and don’t say anything as he pants, “I was going to let you sleep in today,” he grumbles, still not looking at you.

“You’re tired. Why didn’t you go home last night?”

“Wouldn’t have slept anyways.”

“Why not?”

He doesn’t respond, and when you fall to your knees in front of him and lift his chin, you notice tears spilling down his face. Your first instinct is to comfort him, but when you attempt to pull him closer, he pulls away. As you watch him walk to retrieve his shirt, you start to feel angry. Angry at whatever and whoever upset him. And when you approach him again, grabbing his arm so you can question him, help him. He just freezes. He doesn’t turn to you, his head is still bowed, and tears stream down his face, but all he says is, “please,” in the most heartbreaking croak you’ve ever heard, so you let him go.

The next time you see Cassian, he refuses to mention that morning in the training room. You don’t bring it up again, and he pretends it never happened at all. So your training persists and is normal until it isn’t. Your nights are filled with confused thoughts and you feel like a teenager again, wondering if he like you too. But he doesn’t, of course, right?

Little by little, you unravel for him and let him take you apart. You know it will kill you when he has to push you away- when he has to remind you that he’s mated and he will never be with you.

But occasionally Cassian will hold you a little too tightly, and your body is trapped against his until you give up and he releases you. Or he pins you to the ground and holds himself closer to you than necessary.

Little by little, each day becomes more intense, and you resist the urge to press your lips to his. Your nights are filled with images of his shirtless body against you, and you know it will hurt that you won’t even be his friend anymore, but you fall for him anyway. You fall for your hopeless dreams.

Today he has you pinned roughly to the ground, and he’s holding himself a little too close to you. You spend a couple of minutes attempting and failing to break free from him.

“Cassian,” you mumble, leaning back to look at his face, and a second later, his lips are pressed to yours, his tongue running across the seam of your lips. And you moan, opening your mouth to him without considering any of the consequences that will follow. His tongue sweeps into your mouth in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever been a part of, and you can’t help but submit to everything he wants from you.

You grip his shoulders while he takes you apart with his lips, and you lift your hips to grind against him. You can feel him twitch in his pants and attempt to press yourself harder, but he pushes your hip into the mat underneath you. His lips leave yours to kiss down the column of your throat, so you drop your hands from his shoulders to grip him through his leathers, but he growls and pushes your hands away.

“No,” he says simply, and at the pleading look in your eyes, adds, “there’s no way I’m cumming before you.”

He continues his path down and rips your shirt off your shoulders, leaving you bare-chested before him. His lips continue their path down and toward your left breast while his right-hand travels lower and his other hand pinches your right nipple. His right-hand slips into your pants and panties, not bothering to remove them. He intends to spend as long as possible getting you incredibly wet for him, but as his hand runs along your pussy he finds you already drenched. You moan as he spreads your folds with his fingers and nearly scream when he starts rubbing tight circles on your clit.

You writhe beneath him while he kisses bruises onto your breasts and down your navel until he reaches the hem of your pants. He pulls his hand out for a second to suck your wetness into his mouth. You groan at the sight of it, and his eyes grow dark with lust. He reaches both hands toward the hem of your leggings and rips them and your panties down to your ankles. Putting his head between your thighs, Cassian sets your legs on his shoulders and licks from bottom to top. When he reaches your pussy he sucks your clit roughly into his mouth, making you moan and thrust your hips up. He presses you into the mat and continues sucking and licking your pussy. The room fills with the filthy sounds of him lapping at your juices accompanied by territorial growls and your moaning.

You cum three times, but Cassian doesn’t stop until you’ve squirted your juices into his mouth and are whimpering for him to stop. He’s drenched from it but grinning widely above you while he licks the mess from his face, and you lay exhausted and convinced you won’t be able to close your legs for days.

You lift your hand numbly to his pants and start rubbing. He lets out a low growl and scowls down at you when he realizes what you’re doing.

“I’m too sore to do much right now, but I can suck you off if you want,” you offer.

“You better stop that,” he responds, “I promise I won’t last long if you keep it up.”

“What?” you ask, playing innocent.

Cassian begins to say something but is cut off by the training room door opening. His eyes widen as he realizes the position the two of you are in. And there’s no way to play this off. Cassian doesn’t bother to try and run; he grabs your leggings and panties from around your ankles and pulls them up to cover you. You cross your arms over your chest, shielding your breasts, but it doesn't matter because Cassian ends up covering you with his own body. He lifts his gaze to the door, but you keep your ashamed one locked on the darkness of Cassian's shirtless body before you.

“Just going to stand there and stare, brother?” Cassian's voice rumbles out a mix between anger and guilt.

“Would you rather I get Rhys to snap this mess away or a mop so you can do it yourself,” Azriel’s voice replies, and you can’t decipher any emotion from it at all. He doesn't even sound surprised. And the question seems honest-genuine.

“Do you think Rhys will tell Feyre?” Cassian asks.

“Oh, definitely.”

“Would Feyre tell Nesta?” Cassian's stare is focused on the floor above your head, now.

“Honestly, I don’t know. She won’t be happy about this, though.”

“Get the mop and toss me that shirt,” Cassian replies, ducking his head down to rest on your shoulder. You feel tears spill into the crook of your neck as the door shuts behind you. Tears of shame? Worry for Feyre’s disappointment?

“Cassian,” you whisper. You want to touch him. To comfort him, but you know that would be wrong. Your arms reach up to embrace him nonetheless, though, and it seems that he decides he can't allow it. Cassian sits up before your arms can fully embrace him and grabs the shirt Azriel must have thrown. Your shirt. He tugs your arm into it and pulls it down your body.

He’s standing the next second and walking across the room where he left it after taking it off mid-training. Silent tears of shame start falling from your eyes, and you resist the urge to outright sob. As quickly as you can, you get up on your jello legs and run from the room.

Everything below your waist aches but more than that, your heart hurts. It feels like you’re being ripped apart. You want nothing more than for Cassian to hold you and comfort you-even as a friend. But you can’t have that now. You lost that, ruined that. Now you have no one. I’m a homewrecker and a whore, you think to yourself, and I’ve lost everything.

there will be a part 2 eventually

#cassian fic #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian acotar fic #cassian acotar x reader #Cassian acotar x you #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #cassian acotar x y/n #cassian smut #acotar smut #reader insert #fluff #female reader #acotar imagine

459 notes · View notes

thepremedthatwrites · 3 years

Text

Things Have Changed

request: Can you plsss do a Peter x reader relationship where the reader is a family friend and Peter has always had a crush on her and idk ends up admitting it to her at night or something and things get very heated like smutty or whatever.

Did I decide to edit this a day early because I'm procrastinating my school work? Perhaps. But anyways, I hope you all like this fic!

warning: smut below the cut

I could feel the beginning of sweat start to drip down the side of my face as I squinted my eyes trying to see the others in the water. The sand was at the border of being too hot to stand on in bare feet, causing me to walk closer to the water where the cold ocean had cooled the ground. “C’mon (y/n)!” Lucy shouted over the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. “The water isn’t even that cold!”

This was a lie and we both knew it. The icy water brushed the tip of my toes as I held back a shudder. At least the water would help me cool off from the unforgiving sun. As I stood contemplating what to do, I felt a hand graze my back. I turned to see Peter walking by me, a grin on his face. “Too scared to run in, (y/n)?” he asked. That was enough to kick me into action as I started to follow him into the water.

“Of course not,” I replied, holding back the instinct to let out a gasp as the cold water wrapped itself around my stomach. Both of our parents stayed by the towels and umbrellas, leaving the ocean to their children as they drank and talked about whatever it is that adults talked about. The blue house that our families had rented stood tall and proud behind our parents, overlooking the beach and whatever sat beyond what reaches of the ocean we could see.

Peter and I came to a halt as we reached where Lucy and Edmund were. “Where’s Susan?” Ed asked as Peter dunked his head under the water.

“I believe she said she was taking a nap,” I replied as Peter’s head reappeared from the dark water. His blond hair was now pressed against his forehead and had become a few shades darker from the weight of the water.

“Watch out! Big wave!” Lucy just managed to shout out the words before my vision was painted white as the wave crashed down on us. I lost control of my body as I let the current drag me around like a rag doll until I felt myself crash into something solid. At first, I thought it was a rock before I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” I heard Peter say as my head broke the surface. I gulped in a deep breath of air, the oxygen reaching my lungs as I wiped the salt water out of my burning eyes.

“Thanks,” I managed as the taste of salt water danced down my throat.

“I think some of the water went up my nose.” I heard Edmund say while Lucy was pushing her hair that had been plastered in front of her eyes out of her face. I turned my head to look at Peter whose arms were still around me. The sudden realization of the situation finally dawned on me and I felt my face warm at the close proximity. Suddenly his arms felt like iron chains around me and I couldn’t ignore the feeling of their weight on me. Peter seemed to have also become aware of the sensation of our bodies pressed against each other as he slowly removed his arms from me.

“Sorry,” he said softly, his face now also a light shade of pink.

“Yeah, no worries,” I said quickly. I was suddenly thankful for the large wave coming our way as I turned to face it, focusing my thoughts on not being drowned by the rushing water.

“I almost drowned!” Lucy exclaimed as we all sat around the dinner table. It had been my mom’s turn to cook dinner and so she had made us all steak. I started to cut into the meat as Lucy told Susan all about our adventures in the water. Peter and I had become a bit more quiet since the incident in the ocean. I felt myself stealing glances at him every now and then. Sometimes he had already been looking at me too.

“I’m so happy you guys decided to join us here in the states.” I heard my mom say to the Pevensies’ parents. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other since we moved to America.”

“I know, it seems the kids are having a lot of fun hanging out again,” Mrs. Pevensie replied. I turned back to the conversation but could feel the burning glances Peter occasionally threw at me throughout dinner. I was thankful when dinner was over, trying to wash the dishes as quickly as possible and avoiding being near Peter as much as the confines of the kitchen allowed. The parents had disappeared, most likely to the balcony that overlooked the water to drink some more and catch up on what they had missed in the past five years. As soon as the dishes were done, I excused myself blaming my exhaustion on the sun and went to my room.

I was surprised when I woke up to a dark room. I had expected myself to be unable to sleep and instead toss and turn until the rest of the lights went out in the house. I got up from my bed, checking my phone to see it was around three in the morning. My stomach growled as I turned on my lights. It seems that pushing the food around your plate does little to actually satisfy your hunger. I paused at my mirror before leaving. I brushed out my hair and checked to see that the pajamas I wore were acceptable to be seen by the public. I wasn’t sure if I would run into Peter, he was most likely still asleep, but I wanted to play it safe. I wasn’t sure why I was so concerned about my appearance around him. When we were younger, before my family moved to America, I could have cared less about what he thought of my appearance. But then again, we had been younger then. Five years younger to be exact. We had grown since then. His shoulders had broadened and he had become taller. My body had developed curves where it used to be straight and I had finally grown into myself. We weren’t how we were back in the UK. We were older and more mature.

I shook the thoughts from my mind and opened the door to my room. I walked as quietly as I could past my parents’ room and then past all of the Pevensies’ rooms before reaching the stairs that led to the living area that held the kitchen. I opened the fridge as my stomach automatically growled at the sight of all the food. The best part of being on vacation was the fact that the fridge was always filled with leftovers from dinner. I settled on some of the mac and cheese, spooning some into a bowl before putting it into the microwave. I stood patiently as the whir of the microwave filled the silence that had settled into the room.

“What are you doing up?” I jumped at the voice before turning to see Peter standing by the entrance of the kitchen.

“I was hungry,” I said while pointing my head to the microwave. He walked over to me and I was suddenly thankful I had spent the extra time on my appearance before leaving my room. He wore only a pair of grey sweatpants. I couldn’t help myself and let my eyes wander his exposed abs. He definitely did not have those five years ago.

“I missed seeing you,” he said, causing my eyes to jump from his abs to his ocean blue eyes which I could easily drown in if I weren’t careful.

“Me too,” I replied, my voice much softer than I expected it to be. I cleared my throat before speaking again. “I missed having someone I could annoy like an older brother.” Peter’s face scrunched as he shook his head.

“Please don’t call me an older brother. That’s weird.” I raised an eyebrow at this, my heart racing. All this time I had thought he saw me as another little sister. But if that wasn’t the case, what did he see me as?

“And why is that?” I questioned. Peter’s face seemed to have reddened. I wasn’t sure if it had already been red from the sun and I just hadn’t noticed or if he was blushing. Before he could answer the microwave went off causing me to jump. Peter opened the door, taking the bowl out as steam rose from the food.

He set the bowl down on the counter before turning back to me. His eyes seemed to be studying me. I subconsciously bit my bottom lip in anticipation. I watched as his eyes followed the movement. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you,” he finally said.

“And so have you.”

“The thoughts I have about you…” Peter started as he walked closer to me, stopping so that we were almost pressed against each other. “They are not thoughts a brother has about his sister.” He leaned down towards my ear, his hot breath brushing the bare skin behind my ear and sending a shiver down my spine. “That is why it’s weird for you to call me an older brother.” My face must have been the color of a lobster at this point, and I was no longer afflicted with hunger. Instead, lust coursed through my veins. He paused for a moment as if in thought before pressing his lips on the same skin his breath had just caressed. I let out a soft sigh allowing my hand to grasp onto his strong bicep. My other hand had crept around to his stomach, tracing the abs I had just moments before been admiring. He moved his lips, kissing down my neck as I moved my head back to give him more access.

His hands wrapped around my waist before he lifted me into the air. I let out a gasp in surprise before my ass met the cool counter. His eyes looked me up and down, filled with lust and desire. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” he asked. His hands were by my hips as his thumb traced shapes on my thighs. I found myself blushing at his words. Many people had called me beautiful before but the way he spoke it was the same way people sing praises to the gods they worship. He stepped towards me and I opened my legs for him so that he was as close as physically possible.

He stopped for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. They seemed to be saying all the things that had been left unsaid since we had reunited. You’re different. I’m different. These emotions are different. I love you. I wrapped my legs around him, forcing him closer (something I had not thought possible). His hands moved so that they were on either side of me, resting on the counter. My own hands were on his shoulders. I moved one so that it caressed his face. My mac and cheese sat patiently on the counter next to us, expecting to be eaten soon. I had a feeling the bowl would be staying there until the morning. Peter brought his face closer to mine. He paused for a moment, his eyes moving from my lips to my eyes. I gave a slight nod. Then, he kissed me.

We kissed and suddenly I understood what the authors of the romance books I used to read were writing about. He was like a drug. With each touch I needed more. With each kiss I craved just one more moment of the taste of his lips. My hands traveled to his hair as we continued to kiss. His hands wandered my back, traveling beneath the fabric of my t-shirt. I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to stay like this for eternity. On the other hand, I wanted more. I wanted to connect us even more. I wanted him to fuck me.

I pulled back just long enough for my shirt to be discarded. Then I immediately reconnected our lips. I kissed him hungrily, as if those few seconds apart had left me famished. His hands slipped between us, holding my breasts. A small shudder went down my spine as his thumbs brushed my nipples. His hands continuously moved, as if they weren’t sure what to do with all the newly exposed skin. He squeezed my breasts before letting his hands travel down my stomach, gripping my waist harshly as we continued to kiss.

I could feel a growing wetness between my legs. The feeling of something hard being pushed against my inner thigh informed me Peter was just as turned on. He disconnected our lips, tasting my chin and then neck and then collar bone until he reached my tits. I attempted to catch my breath as his tongue flicked across my nipple. I let out a soft gasp as my back arched in pleasure. He started to suck on my tits, making sure to show great care and attention to both of them. His grip on my waist tightened and I was sure there would be a slight bruise in the morning. I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment as that slight pain was the only thing keeping me grounded as pure pleasure pulsed throughout my body as Peter continued to kiss and suck and bite on the sensitive areas.

He stopped abruptly, standing upright and looking me directly in the eye. His erection that had been increasing in size and hardness was now protruding from his pants and pressing into the soft skin of my thigh. “When I was younger, I had always felt an attraction to you, (y/n),” he said. His voice was lower than usual and he seemed to be slightly out of breath as he spoke. “I never knew whether it was a friendly attraction or something stronger than that. But the moment I saw you for the first time in five years, I knew the feelings I felt for you...it wasn’t something most people feel. It was something so strong it took everything in me to not fall to my knees in defeat. In a happy defeat where I surrendered my heart to you.” I felt as if my heart was going to burst from my chest as I listened. “My body burns with desire for you (y/n). Please. Let me show you how you make me feel. Let me love you.”

I licked my lips, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth felt. I took a deep breath, hoping some of the fresh night air would clear my lust-clouded mind for a moment. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes a million times.” I could feel a large grin growing on my face and Peter was wearing a matching one. He grabbed my face in his hands before bringing us together for a kiss. It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen as his hands left my face and traveled down my bare top before playing with the band of my shorts. I inched towards the edge of the counter before sliding off, our lips parting for a moment as my feet hit the ground before immediately reuniting.

He roughly pulled down my shorts and panties in one motion, letting the clothes hit the ground. I followed suit, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. We parted for a moment, the moonlight shining through the window that sat over the sink allowing enough light so that I could see the true length of him. I had only a few moments to admire him, the thickness of his cock was sure to stretch me out deliciously, before he turned me around. I bent over the counter, the cool stone pressing against my naked skin. His hands gripped my hips to hold me in place before he pushed into me.

I let out a loud moan, causing him to put a hand over my mouth. He stayed in place, leaning over so that his mouth was next to my ear. “We have to be quiet. Unless you want both our families to see what we’re doing.” I nodded in understandance as he stood up straight again. He started by moving slowly. He pulled out halfway before pushing in all the way to the base. I felt my pussy flutter around him. He continued this slow rhythm for a while, testing out the water while stretching me out to fit him completely.

Once I felt myself start to adjust he started to go faster. I could feel the edge of the counter dig into my stomach each time my body was thrusted forward. My breasts moved in rhythm with Peter, my weight being supported by my forearms which were propped on top of the counter. His fingers dug into my hips as he fucked me. The kitchen was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and our muffled moans as we did our best to stay quiet. The smell of sweat and sex hovered in the room. The moon acted as a spotlight for our indecent act. My vision was obstructed by my hair which was now a mess, strands of it sitting in front of my face.

“Peter, please,” I moaned quietly. I could feel myself getting closer, my legs now weaker than before as my arms were the only thing holding me up. Peter sensed this, using his hands that were on my hips to lift me up. I felt my mouth open, but no noise came out as my mind became overtaken with pleasure. I could hear Peter let out a groan as I felt myself collapse around him. I let my head fall forward as I attempted to recover from my orgasm. The pleasure started to become more bearable as Peter continued to fuck me. His thrusts were becoming more desperate. Just as I started to think he couldn’t be any rougher, he pulled out.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. The way he spoke brought butterflies to my stomach. He spoke much more forcefully than before, his voice laced with lust as he was too concerned with his own release to speak gently to me. I obeyed, opening my mouth for him unprompted. I started moving my head for him, wanting to make him feel just as good as he made me feel. His head fell back as his hip thrusted forward. I fought back the reflex to gag as his cock buried itself deep within my throat. His hand pushed on the back of my head, keeping me in place as I felt the beginning spurt of a warm and bitter liquid shooting down my throat. I swallowed all of it greedily, wanting to have as much of Peter as I could.

As the last drop of his cum slid down my throat, he slowly pulled away. I wiped away the small dribble of drool that had fallen down my chin. I looked up at him and he looked down at me, a smile on his face. His hand ran down the side of my head before caressing my face. I slowly got up, my legs still slightly weak. “Wow,” I said, slightly out of breath. Peter let out a soft chuckle before pulling me in for a kiss. We quietly got dressed. Peter grabbed my hand, leading me to his room. Our clothes didn’t stay on for too long as they quickly found their way to his bedroom floor. The night was filled with whispers of confessions of love, hands in hair, and lips pressed on naked skin. The next morning I would wake up, afraid that it had all been a dream before I turned to see Peter’s face on the pillow next to me. Then, a smile matching Peter’s sleepy one would form on my face.

#peter pevensie #high king peter the magnificent #high king peter #king peter the magnificent #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie smut #peter pevensie x y/n #peter pevensie x you #peter pevensie headcanon #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie one shot #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #narnia fanfiction #narnia smut #narnia imagine

902 notes · View notes

frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed.

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics

404 notes · View notes

luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

Bedside Manners

Sherlock figures out who the father is and the cat has the reader’s tongue. Or, the reader reads auras and Sherlock realizes that maybe The Woman has nothing on the one he already has. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t seen Sherlock in over a week.

It had all happened so fast you could barely keep up. One moment you’re out on a case with John and the next Sherlock is heavily involved with a woman who you only knew as beautiful, powerful, and way smarter than you.

It was too much to be around him and his constant texts with his very specific ringtone so you had decided in order to save your friendship, you’d mourn your imaginary relationship in peace. He hadn’t called or texted, but since technically this was a case you didn’t expect him to. Usually, you were working the case right alongside him. You honestly hadn’t thought he noticed you were gone.

You were cocooned under the blankets watching old recorded episodes of Maury when your phone went off.

Can I come over? SH

And then, right after:

I’m coming over. John told me it was polite to ask but I know your work schedule and I know you’re home. SH

Your lips gave way to an involuntary smile at that. It shouldn’t surprise you as much as it did that Sherlock knew so much about you because you have spent most of your days together as of late, but it still made you feel special even if it was a little odd. Sherlock Holmes coming to your flat was the last thing you expected tonight and you were nowhere near prepared. Sherlock had never shown any interest in seeing where you lived before and it wasn’t that shocking seeing as you spent more nights on his sofa than you did in your bed. You got up and tried your best to tidy up, put on some better looking pajamas and unlocked the door for him.

The door’s unlocked. Y/I

You got back under the blankets and made sure to leave room for Sherlock to sit, too. It wasn’t long after you sent the text that you heard steps coming towards your bedroom door. You hardly expected him to show up in his pajamas and horrible-- but so cute, you thought-- bedhead but there he was in all of his glory. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and you weren’t sure you wanted to know what (or who) kept him up all night. His lips were fixed in what you could only describe as a pout and he looked like he was on a mission to decipher you as soon as his knees bumped the bottom of your bed.

Shades of blue and purple complimented his complexion tonight. You tilted your head back to see the colors better and tried to find where the light was stemming from. Before you could even say hello or finish your analysis, Sherlock was on your bed and pulling away at your blanket cocoon to invite himself underneath. You let him, of course, and realized this is the closest you had ever been to him. It felt like it could be a normal night routine and your heart ached.

It was then that it fully hit you how much you missed him. You had hoped that the way he was acting now was a reflection of how much he missed you, too, but getting your hopes up never did bode well for you. Remembering the reason you hadn’t been around all that much hit you like a freight train and you wondered if he saw right through you.

He got settled and you both sat together in silence watching as the program played. You couldn’t imagine that he came all this way just to watch telly with you and your curiosity got the better of you. “Sherlock,” you started, turning your head to face his profile, “why’d you come over here?”

“Do I ask you that when you’re at my house?” He shot back quickly, his eyes never leaving the TV. While that would sound rude to anyone else, you knew that tone. He was anxious.

“You always invite me over. You don’t have to ask.” You countered.

“Hardly my fault you don’t invite me over. That says more about you than it does me.” Sherlock finally turned to face you and you thought he looked like ethereal with the TV light cast on his face. How you loved him so.

You could tell he was avoiding whatever it was that was bothering him and figured if he came here to sit in silence with you, you could do that for him. Turning back to the TV, you brought the blankets up even further around you two.

“He’s the father,” Sherlock said minutes before the talk show host announced it, “and you’ve been... avoiding me.” So he did notice. Just as you were about to deny it, he added, “do not lie to me. We know each other far too well for that.”

You sighed. You really didn’t want to have this conversation with him now, or ever, but here Sherlock was snuggled up in your bed with you secretly worried that you haven’t been around. If you’ve read all the signs up until this point wrong, well, you get an A for trying.

You could feel blue eyes boring into you and he was surely expecting an explanation. “I don’t know. This case has just been a lot on me.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Everything involving Irene Adler was too much for you and you thought if you pretended it wasn’t going on, you’d be able to forget about it and move past it. Of course the “it” you were trying to move past was laying in your bed with you.

You didn’t have to further elaborate because just as Sherlock was about to speak, his phone moaned. Figures.

You couldn’t hide it if you tried. She was texting him late at night and he didn’t even seemed surprised so that meant she had been texting him late at night. Your body slumped immediately and you cursed yourself because you knew Sherlock was watching. You didn’t want him to see you so weak.

“Irene Adler.” He murmured, talking more to himself than you. “You’ve been avoiding me because of Irene Adler. I don’t understand.”

He truly was lost at this point. How Sherlock could be so brilliant but so blind was an anomaly you’d never understand. You looked at him as he tried processing this new piece of information and you could see that it wasn’t adding up for him. He couldn’t possibly understand how hearing the love of your life’s ringtone for another woman being a moan would ruin someone’s mood. It was too far beyond him.

“Sherlock, it’s fine-- it’s not her. It’s not you. I’ve just been tired. It’s me.” You try reasoning with him but it’s no use, he already off on his mental tangent. He sat up farther in bed and brushed his fingers against his lips. Something suddenly dawned on him and he was shoving his phone in your hands.

“Our texts, read them. She keeps asking me to have a night with her and I never reply. I don’t want to. Look.” He’s urging you to look at this point, and you’re unsure of what he’s trying to prove that for. You didn’t think he knew that you’d be jealous, and frankly, you didn’t think he’d care. But it was unlike you to keep him waiting, so you started to read their message thread and he was right. He had literally never responded and at this revelation you looked up at him.

Sherlock was watching for your reaction, that much was clear. Still sat up, he looked down on you as you read and met your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t discern.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Sherlock. You’re a grown man, and you’re allowed to do, and see, whoever you want.” You watched as his aura got stronger as you spoke and you wondered what he was feeling. It looked like it was coming in waves.

“Not at the cost of our relationship. She is not worth a damn to me, especially if it means losing you.” Sherlock was serious now, and that took you by surprise. You had never expected him to say anything like that about you, much less in this context. You started to wonder if all of your hopeless unrequited feelings weren’t so unrequited after all.

Now you were sitting up, and you were sitting knee to knee next to each other. “You won’t lose me. You will never lose me, Sherlock, I need you to understand that.” You matched his tone, speaking in earnest.

“Besides, if I ever did get lost, you would come find me. You wouldn’t be able to resist the game.” You offered him a smile to try and lighten your heavy confession, and when he took it, yours turned into a grin.

You really didn’t know how you got lucky enough to love someone as beautiful as Sherlock. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss him stupid.

You don’t push him any farther tonight than what he’s already offered you because it’s more than enough. Instead, you lay back down and pat his pillow for him to lay next to you and start another episode of Maury. He lays back down and he’s the calmest you’ve seen him all night.

“If you guess the outcome of the episode correctly within the first three minutes, I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” You challenged, looking over at him like he put the stars in the sky himself. And in your world, he did.

“The game is on.”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #luxwrites

630 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Bouquet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?

Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.

So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer.

If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!

But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.

“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.

I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”

“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.

I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”

“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“

And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.

“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“

I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.

“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.

“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair.

I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“

“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“

Phew, God bless you Rae.

“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.

At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.

Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?

As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week. I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.

It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.

“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“

“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.

“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“

He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.

“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.

I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.

Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....

Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM

~ ~ ~

I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.

Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-

My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.

“Thank you, Romeo ;)“

Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.

Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76

303 notes · View notes

quicksilverrwrites · 3 years

Text

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #xmen imagine #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff fanfic #peter maximoff x y/n #xmen x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver fanfic #xmen fanfic

147 notes · View notes

min-chery · 3 years

Text

Not too far away | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Maybe the future the two of you saw with each other was not too far away.

Word count: 1192

Genre: Fluff, established relationship!au

Warnings: None :) But Despicable me is mentioned lol

A/n: Watching Yoongi look for the manual to build the chair in the latest Run BTS episode is what inpired this one. He was soo adorable in those dungarees and my heart had no idea how to handle it svsjsnk.

Yoongi had always looked at you like you're his only lifeline. He knows you are exactly that but he'd never tell that out loud for you to hear. You are what keeps him afloat every day in his tiring life and he's beyond grateful for your presence. And right now taking in the soft scent of your shampoo was what he needs the most.

His chin is tucked into the scarf to protect his face from the prickling cold. His nose is taking on a shade of red as it freezes on his face. Yoongi waits patiently at the doorstep, keeping his ears alert and listens to the shuffle of your feet. He can already imagine you wearing your fluffy mismatched sailor moon socks with his hoodie over your body. And when you open the door with the gentlest smile on your lips, he smirks internally to guessing your outfit right. At least part of it, because in addition to pajama set and his hoodie, there is a blanket wrapped around your form. You are scrunching the opening in your fist as you pull him into the warmth of your shared home.

He feels you watch him as he takes off his snow covered shoes and jacket and leave it at the rack buy the entrance. And the second after, he's pouncing onto you to draw you into his arms. You laugh gleefully, freeing your arms from where it's trapped between the two of you. You open the blanket, taking him in and closing it around his back. You stand there for a good few seconds, arms around his neck and nose in his hair and swaddled up in an embrace.

"You good?" You ask, head tilting to the side innocently as you pull away. Yoongi swears his heart stops for the millionth time since he's met you.

"Dayeon-ie isn't the good girl we think she is." He laughs, hands tightly wrapping around your waist.

Dayeon was Namjoon and Seokjin's daughter who they had adopted 3 years ago when she was 4 months old. After multiple visits to the adoption centre, they had grown attached to her and decided that she was the one they had been missing their whole lives.

"She gave you too much trouble?" You ask, endeared by the soft expression that has taken over his face.

"A little. She kept hiding the manuals and nails for the furniture all over the place." He laughs, eyes unfocussed as he recalls the events of his day.

Yoongi was an interior designer by profession. And his friends (who were also yours) who hadn't had the slightest idea about putting together the furniture for their little one's bedroom, asked Yoongi for his help.

“Well, go freshen up before our dinner goes cold.” you usher, fully pulling away from the embrace.

After he lazily drags himself to your bathroom and comes back dressed warmly, you are already waiting for him at the dining table with your laptop placed there with your netflix account open.

“What should we watch today?” you ask, the pointer hovering over Despicable Me. He smiles, pointing at the little icon of the movie he’s sure you are dying to rewatch. You think you’re cheeky. Casually dropping in and talking about some scenes from the movie and often doodling Minions on the papers lying around the house. But he knows you like the back of his hand.

Yoongi still doesn’t understand why you won’t just tell him when you want to watch something. Maybe you don’t want to force him into watching something he doesn’t like. But he always picked up on the hints and indulged you.

Dinner goes by quick, filled with your smiles and giggles. He's happy even if your attention is on Gru and his minions. He loves how much you love animations and respect it makers. He seen you make animations of your own for your art blog. Seen you take tons of time to make a small animation for a commission. It was what made him gain that immense respect he has for animators. From watching you work as hard as you do for a 10 second clip.

Soon enough the two of you are making your way into the bedroom and cuddling under thicker sheets. You face Yoongi, his arm loosely draped over your body while one of yours entangles in his hair and the other boops his little nose. He scrunches it when the urge to kiss him there washes over you.

"Dayeon's face just won't leave my brain." He whispers into the stillness of your apartment. You look at him with your large doe eyes.

"She's all grown up now." He says, his lips lilting up in a soft smile before continuing. "She apparently forced the guys to let her pierce her ears so she could wear the earrings Jungkook gifted her for her birthday."

"Her hair has grown out too. Walks around with her ponytails swaying at each step." He's laughing at the memory of her running to him with the manual she had hidden with a pout. And when he'd kissed her plump cheek, she had run away to hide behind Namjoon's leg and giggled at him.

Your heart melts at what he says and you pull him in by his neck to attach your mouths. You slide your lips over his, kissing him like you were deprived of his essence since forever. With a whisper of 'I love you so much' you pull away.

"How many kids do you want, my love?" You ask.

"Seven." He replies without missing a beat as if he had prepared for it. Your eyes bulge out in something that is a mix between surprise and horror.

"Seven?! Do guys really think it's that easy to give birth?"

"You don't have to give birth to them all. We can adopt after whenever you decide to stop. There's so many kids who wish for a home." Your heart swells in your chest at what he had just said.

"Ahh Min Yoongi. How could anyone not fall in love with you?" You dramatically sigh, clutching the fabric at your chest and falling deeper onto the pillow.

"How many does my sweetheart want?" He asks with the honey sweet gummy smile engrained on his face.

"Three. Two girls and a boy."

You have always imagined yourself in your future that way. The two of you and your three kids in a house somewhere between the city and the countryside. Maybe a cat too because you love the animal too much.

Yoongi gently takes you hand in his, thumb caressing the ring on your finger. The same ring he put there a month ago when got on one knee at your favourite restaurant and asked you if you would marry him. He smiles in the way he usually does when he feels like he loves you so much he doesn't know how to contain it all. The blush that creeps up your cheeks and heats up both of your faces doesn't go unnoticed.

Maybe the future the two of you saw with each other was not too far away.

#bts #btsboys #books & libraries #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bangtan #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi fic #bts fluff #bts fic #bts imagines #yoongi x oc #wattpad writer #writers #writing

145 notes · View notes

sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

Chain of Events

word count: 2500

pairing: andy barber x female reader

warnings: cheating, age gap, some profanity.

request: can i request a andy barber x fem!reader where the reader is his asisstant and his secret mistress (in mid 20s) which she always stick by his side and help him through jacob's trail. after the trail he divorced w laurie and they got marry and have a baby girl please!! thank you!!

a/n: sorry for the wait! i hope you enjoy lovely! ngl this really fueled my love for andy.

please excuse any mistakes!

It wasn’t something you were proud of. Something that had started off as a night with a few innocent drinks paved the way for a never ending cycle. At times you felt dirty and awful, yet that didn’t stop you from going to see him every other night. Even when you had the slightest feeling that Laurie had a hunch, it didn’t stop you. Especially when things got dark for Andy, you were the one to hold him close and not his wife. It felt so right although extremely wrong all at the same time.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Currently, you were sitting in your apartment bed, spending your Friday night a bit differently than most. Rain gushed from the sky and rhythmically hit your bedroom window which you were spaced out on, many thoughts running through your mind and a glass of wine occasionally hitting your lips. Using your free hand you softly ran your fingers through the mop of hair that belonged to Andy who was passed out in your lap. His breathing was even and it did your heart good to see him so peaceful for once. Just two hours ago, he called you, sounding so broken and vulnerable which was out of the ordinary for Andy. The minute you answered the door, he flung himself at you and held you tight, whispering repeatedly “don’t leave me, please.”

It absolutely tore you to pieces to hear him say that and you were quick to reassure him that it wasn’t even possible. You then lead him to the bedroom to ask what had happened.

“Is everything alright? Talk to me, Andy.” You placed a set of his pajamas into his hands but not without a pleading look in your eyes when meeting his own sullen ones.

“Laurie’s adamant it’s him, but (y/n)-” Placing a finger on his lips, you hushed him.

“I know, I know. You just have to ignore it okay? Laurie is just,” Pausing, you chose your next words wisely, “having a hard time with it all. Everyone copes differently.”

He sadly nodded before standing to kiss your forehead and make his way to the bathroom to get changed and cleaned up a bit.

The two of you continued to chat about Jacob’s trial once Andy returned from the bathroom, and he confided in you in many ways more than one. You’d never seen Andy so open, even with yourself, and clearly it helped him quite a bit as he was now relaxed.

Time had flown and amongst your thoughts, one stood out to you in particular. When would Laurie start to question where he was? Andy always had some bullshit excuse ready to give her and would then tell you that it would be alright. Normally, before you had time to truly convince yourself, Andy’s lips would be on yours or his hands would caress you gently and you’d melt into him as did your cares. Except for now.

The two had just gotten into a huge fight and you were sure Andy hadn’t even thought twice about telling her where he was going. Even if he did, Laurie would surely be on the lookout for his return.

Carefully reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone to check the time and noticed that it was getting late.

“Andy? My love, when do you have to go home?” You leaned down to whisper to the sleeping man who groaned in return.

You repeated his name once more, this time slightly shaking his shoulder to which he rolled onto his back, a goofy grin on his lips as he looked up at you. “Well hello, honey.”

From Andy’s point of view, you peered down at him like a disappointed mother but with a faint smile upon her lips at her child’s goofiness.

“Nice of you to join me, sleeping beauty. I was wondering what time you had to get home. It’s starting to rain more heavily and Laurie-”

Andy sat up and turned himself so he’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder with you. Silently, he took your empty wine glass from your hand, leaning to place it on your nightstand. As he did so, he didn’t let go of your wrist, which he brought to his lips when he returned to face you.

Murmuring against your wrist, he started to place soft and delicate kisses to the smooth skin there. “Don’t worry about it. I told her I’d be back tomorrow morning.”

“But Andy, she knows you don’t have anywhere to stay.” You didn’t want to exactly say “Hey! Andy, you have no friends and your wife knows that!” but it was implied in a kinder way. Andy picked up on this, clearly deflecting when he just nodded in response and started to place more kisses up your forearm.

Letting out a frustrated “hmph,” you let Andy carry on before he victoriously smiled at you.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The vicious cycle went on throughout the course of Jacob’s trial as things between Andy and his wife got worse. Even though they both lived under the same roof, slept in the same bed, and put on a facade for Jacob, they were practically separated. One night Andy drunkenly showed up on your doorstep, confessing how he had come home to find Laurie with another man. In a fit of rage he let the cat out of the bag that he had been seeing you. Funny how things work.

You knew they were both wrong, so instead of shaming either one of them, you just let Andy cling to you for comfort. When Andy was drunk, he was like a big child and if the circumstances were different, you’d been laughing, but rather you soothingly rubbed his back and listened as that’s all he needed. Someone who would just listen.

At three in the morning, he most definitely needed you as well when you found his head in the bowl of the toilet and not sleepily nestled in your neck. (Which was ironic as the two of you would be switching places very soon.)

Christmas came quick and along with it, many miracles, one being that Jacob was not convicted.

Just as Andy was in a rush to tell you the news, Laurie was even faster to serve the divorce papers to him. In a relationship, you and your partner are supposed to be able to push through tough times without breaking. With that being said, Andy and Laurie mutually agreed that they had failed and it was time they both quit lying to themselves. It was time for real happiness.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“(y/n) meet me at our favorite restaurant in thirty minutes.”

You were working on some case files for Neil, despite your hatred for him, and tried to tell Andy that you were busy at the moment. He didn’t listen but continued to insist that you meet him there. His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was...excited? Surely, Andy had been excited over things in his life, but you’d never actually heard the usually emotionless man speak with such ardor.

Setting down the case files, you rushed to put on some real pants and a blouse, but nothing too fancy or flashy as you had no idea what was about to happen.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Andy happily flagged you over. He wore the biggest smile ever and you were borderline concerned. What could have him this happy? Was he getting back with Laurie? As much as you wanted them to be a functioning family, you weren’t sure if you could deal with such heartbreak because Andy really did feel like the one.

Ever the gentleman, Andy pulled out your chair and handed you a small bouquet as you sat in the wooden seat. Before he walked away, the man planted a smack of a kiss on your lips and hurried back to his seat since he saw the waiter out of the corner of his eye. As the waiter approached, you were just sitting there, the most shocked expression on your face as it settled within you what Andy had just done. Long ago when this whole fiasco began, you and Andy always kept it professional when out in public because so many people knew him and word could get out easily that he was cheating.

The minute the waiter left, you were quick to chastise Andy who just laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world which left you a bit angered.

Since the restaurant was quiet, you extended yourself across the table so Andy could hear your harsh muttering.

“Do you realize what you just did, Barber?!” Andy shook his head in a content manner and at this point steam was about to emerge from your ears. Before all hell could break loose and you go ballistic, Andy cut in to explain.

“Jacob, he’s a free man!” Andy looked at you with an awaiting smile and your face immediately softened, but for only a second as that didn’t explain why he was parading your relationship out like this. Didn’t he know what he was risking, not only for himself, but you.

Your counterpart noticed the sudden change of expression on your face and continued, “But among other things, I meant to tell you that Laurie and I got divorced recently.”

“Oh hon, I am so sorry.” Reaching across the table, you comfortingly ran your thumb over the back of his hand, but he just shook his head in detest.

“No no, it’s not a bad thing because it just opened the gateway for this,” Andy pulled his hand away and went to dig in his coat pocket. You thought to yourself, no he couldn’t be-

“(y/n), I’m gonna make this short, but sweet. You mean the world to me and I could spend all night listing off why I love you, but that will never do justice, so instead, I ask that you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”

His cliche, yet utterly adorable speech could make a person’s heart melt and instantly say yes, but you’ve always been a thinker, and maybe Andy had accounted for that a bit in his proposal.

“Andrew! You just got divorced!” In a semi-whisper slash hiss, you bent over so only he could hear, hiding your words from the prying onlookers as if you had top secret info spilling from your lips.

“I know, but, (y/n), you are the one.” He looked a bit awkward being on his knee for so long and the ring box still patiently in hand as you processed his question. Nonetheless, Andy continued to hopefully smile at you, ignoring all of the whispers, until you excitedly replied “yes” just a mere second later, though it felt like ages for him.

This proposal was definitely gonna be a story for generations.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

You and Andy settled for a simple courthouse wedding with just your parents in attendance as witnesses. The two of you were never really used to flaunting your relationship, and even though you could now, it just wasn’t ideal. Besides, you had bigger things to worry about.

For example, when just a few weeks after your short-lived honeymoon, you noticed some changes and came to the conclusion that you were pregnant.

One night, you casually brought up the idea of more kids to Andy to test the waters.

“Hey love, you awake?”

Andy lifted his eyes from his book, no longer looking as if he was asleep. He nodded his head and set the book aside giving you his full attention.

“What’s up, gorgeous?”

“I was thinking… what if we were to have a kid. Would you be opposed to that?”

The reaction on Andy’s face was most definitely not the one in mind and he looked as if you had asked him the most appalling question on earth.

“(y/n), I love kids,” He chuckled a bit, “I thought I made that clear, you know, by being a dad and all.”

His lame attempt at making a “joke” eased your nerves and you just came straightforward with the gold.

“Andy, I think I am pregnant.”

And faster than a predator can pounce, Andy was on you in seconds, his arms hugging you close as he whispered words of excitement.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Nine months later and that statement was very true as you held a bundle of joy in your arms. Your hours numb in pain couldn't even be compared to the gift that was before you. Andy could hardly keep his hands off your stomach for the past few months and he never failed to speak to your daughter as if she was actually there. Now that her presence was finally in the world, Andy was yet to look away from her small figure and his smile hadn’t withered the slightest.

The nurse had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving both you and Andy some time and privacy with your newborn. Even though drowsiness overcame your body, you visibly forced yourself awake just to absorb all the time you could with her. Little ones grow up in a flash and you weren't going to miss a second if it was up to you.

Andy joined you in the hospital bed when you silently invited him in with a soft pat to the crinkly sheets. Once he snuggled up against your side, you carefully passed the little baby who was about to have her first contact with her father.

As Andy played with her mini hands, you sleepily rested your head on his broad shoulder, watching the two and already figuring out that they’d be lifelong friends.

“They always say with age comes wiseness, but darlin’, your momma gives that phrase a run for its money.”

You giggled at your husband’s words and propped up the little darling the smallest bit so she could “see” you and her dad.

“Don’t listen to Daddy, munchkin. The grey in his beard says otherwise.”

“Hey! I’m not that old, I was still able to knock-” Backhanding Andy’s leg caused him to dramatically cut his sentence short. There were plenty of years for him to taint your daughter’s innocence.

As you observed the two, you noticed Andy gazed at her as if she hung the moon and stars for him, a familiar look he often gave you. Possibly from the lack of energy or just being enamored with the interaction, a sweet tear slipped from your own eye. Upon closer inspection, one could see that a subtle tear fell from the man beside you.

If Andrew Stephen Barber had known all those years ago he’d be here with a second chance at life, he would’ve never even waited another second to be with you. It’s funny how life can send you down the most twisted paths, yet have you come out with the most precious of gifts.

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

a/n: what did you guys think? it feels like ages since i’ve written anything, and I am sure you can tell haha

if you are new here, check out my masterlist at the top of my blog for more Andy Barber (and Chris Evans characters) writing. I’d link it but tumblr always tag blocks me :(

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber imagine #andy barber one shot #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x assistant reader #andy barber x wife reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters

372 notes · View notes