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#sorry I’m still a little sleepy but I’m also full of rage
anonymous-dentist · 9 months
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I’m pretty sure that some people have been watching Quackity’s pov with their eyes closed because they get parts of his character wrong literally all the time, such as:
Tallulah being q!Quackity’s daughter. She considers him a future dad, but he doesn’t. He explicitly stated that he was never meant to be a parent and that Tilin’s death just proved it, so he was just fine being her cool uncle
He is, however, Richarlyson’s dad, but not legally. He gave up his parenting rights back to q!Cellbit during Cellbit’s regret/infiltration arc because he was sooooo pissed at Forever and he wanted Cellbit to beat him in court. Despite this, Quackity still treated Richarlyson as his son during the few times they got to interact before the wedding and kidnapping, and Richarlyson still considers him a dad
Quackity’s best friend on the island isn’t q!Wilbur, his best friends have been q!Roier, q!Spreen, and SOFIA. He and Wilbur interacted maybe five times max, and Wilbur was usually pretty wary around him because tbh Quackity was Not Well at the time and he kept trying to kidnap Tallulah bc he was grieving over Tilin so hard. Meanwhile he and Roier were Close (even with Roier going out of his way to ruin his life; he was buddies with Q again after he got his revenge, and they’ve been friends since), he and Spreen were basically inseparable when they were online together, and he stands as SOFIA’s only friend
Quackity was never alone. He just thought he was because his self esteem was so fucking low. It’s like that “Hey Goob!” “Everybody hated me…” thing, he had friends, he just never realized it because, again, he was SO DEPRESSED after Tilin died. When he disappeared, literally half the island went out looking for him, and they stayed looking for him, and they tried helping and taking care of him last night when he didn’t even know who they were because they love him so much
Some people say he never loved Tilin, and that really isn’t true. He tried so fucking hard all the time but he just… wasn’t up for the task. And he admits it, and he feels bad about it to the point of getting himself kidnapped and then brainwashed because the Feds said they’d give him Tilin back. He doesn’t want to be Tallulah’s parent, but he’d risk his own life to be Tilin’s again
Quackity was not in love with q!Wilbur. They flirted, yeah, but he himself said that it wasn’t love he felt after he “married” Wilbur at Festa Junina. When talking with SOFIA, he started to use him and Wilbur as an example of what love is but he stopped because he realized that it isn’t love. He doesn’t know how to love anymore, he lost that when his child died. And he’s angry about it, he’s frustrated, he’s in denial, but every time he’s brought up being in love with Wilbur it’s been because he feels like he should be. And maybe he could be in the future, but like. He was only trying to marry Wilbur in the first place so he could beat Spiderbit to be the first to get married. No real emotions there, just… emptiness.
These are the most common misconceptions I’ve seen and I’m kinda sick of people just like. Ignoring these pretty important facets of his character in favor of headcanons and stuff. Headcanons are cool, but properly erasing canon and trying to constantly replace it is Not
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banquetwriter · 27 days
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CAN YOU DO some johnnie smut with morning sex PLEASE
that would be so hot
୨୧ glory filled mornings ୨୧
pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ fem!Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 SMUT, unedited, wrote this when i had a fever so it doesn’t make sense lol
summary: ʚ johnnie wakes up with an embarrassing situation ɞ
Words: idk lol
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An: i’m so sorry u have been absent i’ve genuinely been going through the ringer and i promise i’m making my way through these requests!! also i will rewrite this at some point haha
It wasn't often that Johnnie indulged in hookups. Sure every so once in a while a pretty girl and him would leave a bar together. Nothing was ever that serious with him. He has been on a few dates but nothing ever went anywhere.
This was different. He had to admit you had piqued his interest since he met you at a party. Then again the next week he saw you again. You were one of Corry and Jake’s friends from their traphouse days.
You were so fucking pretty. The way you laughed at almost all of his jokes, even if they weren't funny. When you would lean in to make sure you heard everything he wanted to say. The way you would trace his tattoos whenever he would show you one of them. That's what led the two of you to cuddle in an Uber home.
The two of you drunkenly cuddled on your couch before you kicked him to your bed. Refusing to let a guest sleep on the couch. That's how he woke up to his head pounding and an unfortunate boner.
He felt the familiar feeling and looked down, revealing a small tent in his boxers. Probably from sleeping in a pretty girl's bed all night. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself.
He rubs his face with his hands as you suddenly enter the room. He quickly covers his body back up with your duvet. “Heyy good morning sleepy head,” you said smiling. You had a medicine bottle and a glass of water in your hands. “H-hey,” he said, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.
“Ugh god my head hurts so bad, I took some Tylenol and I hope that helps.” you absentmindedly said setting the bottle and water down on your bedside table. The pressure of the blanket pressing on his core was definitely not helping his boner, the sight of your short Beetlejuice sleep shorts was also not helping.
Your skin looked so damn soft, the pudge of your thighs spilling out as you sat down on the bed next to him. You were on your phone not even looking at him. It was truly embarrassing just how much his damn brain was fixated on you.
You hugged your knees to your chest scrolling around on your phone. Softly chewing on your nails, you notice that Johnnie has been staring at you for a prolonged amount of time. You lifted your head from your Doordash app to look at him.
He looked flushed, he had ripped his shirt off in the middle of the night so you could see how red his chest was. You quirked your head at him “Dude Johnnie you ok?” you ask, trying not to laugh a little.
“Um yeah I'm fine-” he muttered, scratching his head, his rings and necklaces clinking together. “Dude, tell me what's going on. You didn't blow chunks in my room did you?” you say with a disgusted face.
“No! No- I swear I didn't-” he said sitting up more. Unfortunately, he was cut off by your eyes dropping to his waist. When he sat up the blanket got just a little too low. Johnnie’s raging boner peeking through his skinny jeans was now in full view.
His eyes shoot up back at your face. He couldn't discern your facial expression at all. Your eyes were slightly wide but you didn't look disgusted or horrified or even mildly embarrassed.
Johnnie sure did. He felt like he was gonna die. Right there, right then, with a fat boner in a pretty girl's bedroom. His brain was slowly shutting down from anxiety. Unable to form an apology. Or any thoughts for that matter.
You felt a rush of confidence surge through your body as you stared at the raven-haired boy. “Oh?” you asked, turning your phone off, leaning forward getting closer to Johnnie.
He was surely having an aneurysm. Or maybe he was still drunk and this was just a bad dream. He could almost feel the heat radiating off of your skin. It was going to set him on fire. His head was pounding and he was tired, but at the same time, he hadn't ever felt more awake than he does now.
“I-I'm so sorry. I'm not trying to be some fucking creep. It just happens sometimes I promise it has nothing to do with you.” he stuttered putting his hand in between you and himself.
That was half true. Sometimes morning wood just happens for no reason, the untrue half was that it had NOTHING to do with you. Maybe Johnnie dreamt of you last night, maybe he didn't. All he knows is the scent of you was enough to drive him up the fucking walls.
“Awww really?” you asked in a fiend sad voice. You placed your right hand on one side of his body moving you closer to him. He felt like squealing or squirming or maybe both. This was a horrible situation to be in.
“Yes, I'm so sorry I will leave.” he prefaced trying to pin his body down onto the mattress as you moved closer to him. “There's no need for that, you said it yourself it's perfectly natural. You don't need to be embarrassed.” you purred out. Johnnie's skin was on fire, he could have cried from how hard he was in his jeans.
“I promise it's not about you,” he whispers, trying to save face. “It's not? You don't think I'm pretty Johnnie?” you ask with a pout. You continued to climb up the bed. Your body was so close to his now. Your arms were on either side of his head.
“No! It's not that I think you are beautiful-” he almost shouted at you. “Oh, you think I'm beautiful?” you whispered as you hovered over his neck. He let out a shaky breath as he watched your head dip down to his neck.
He felt like could explode as you slowly started to kiss up his neck. “This ok?” you murmured against his skin, your voice tickling his flesh. “Mhm!” he borderline whimpered out feeling your tongue and teeth grazing his hot skin.
You moved your legs to mimic your arms moving on either side of his body. Your body was on top of his, feeling his boner through his pants. It sends waves of heat to your core. Pressing your clothes clit on his hard-on slowly starting to rub up and down.
It was painful how hard he was. “Fuck please, let me take my pants off.” he moaned out his hands slinking up to your waist and under his shirt. You were quick to take his hands off of you and hold them above next to his head.
He whined out as your display of dominance, bucked his hips up into you. “Keep your hands there,” you whispered while sitting up. All of your weight was now on his crotch. The pressure sent him spinning. You slowly slid your hands on your body taking your shirt off.
He gasped looking at you. He never went after looks always personality but fuck you were so perfect for him. It was hard listening to your instructions. He wanted to grip your sides as you bounced up and down on him.
But he stayed put. You slowly pulled your shorts off as well, it's not like they left much to the imagination. Your dark panties found their way to his body again grinding down on him. His mound pressing into you. “Let me take my fucking pants off,” he whined, lifting his head a little bit.
“God, you are so impatient,” you murmur moving your head down, he sucked in with clenched teeth as you slowly started to pepper kisses along his chest. “Ah fuck.” he whined bucking his hips against you.
“Shush,” you whispered, you continued to suck and pull at his chest skin adorning his body with hickies that matched the ones on his neck. He threw his head back trying to feel any sort of release or pressure.
“Mm, fuck.” He whimpered again he squirmed more under you, his slim waist flexing beautifully. “Johnnie?” you asked moving up above him leaving his marked chest alone for now.
“Yeah?” He panted out, his head still feeling like a jackhammer was bouncing around his brain. “Take your pants off,” you whispered. Your voice was so quiet he didn't hear you at first. A pause between the two of you capturing desperation.
Once the words finally filled his brain he scooted away from you and off the bed hastily ripping the belt he had been wearing off. You flipped on your back, head hitting the pillow.
You hooked your fingers around your panties to pull them down. “No! Don't, I want to.” Johnnie said, holding his hand out. You smirked at him feeling your panties sticking to your body.
He fiddled with his jean button before finally being able to undo it. He yanked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting his chest. He crawled up the bed, staring down at you.
You were breathing deeply, gazing into his eyes. Johnnie grabs the blanket, dropping it over himself. His hands find their way to your sides slowly caressing up and down. His head ducked down to your neck.
He returns the favor of the hickies nipping at your skin. Your nails find their way to his hair, scraping his scalp and encouraging him to continue. You moaned out slightly at the contact.
His arms moved to either side of your head, his back flexing to reach every part of you. This time your hips moved up to meet him. “Who is the impatient one now? Huh?” he asked, you could feel the smirk on his lips.
“It's still you.” you teased him, slowly grabbing a fistful of his hair. He whined slightly as you pulled him away from your neck. His dick was resting on top of your stomach. “Johnnie, I need you,” you stated slowly. “I need you to fuck me,” you said, your voice dripping dominance.
Johnnie couldn't help but obey. “Fuck yeah, ok,” he muttered sitting on his knees and moving his hands towards your sides. Finally pulling your panties from your dripping cunt. You spread your legs open for him, his hands pressing against your thigh to stabilize himself.
Hu pumped his cock a few times before lining himself in your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, whimpering feeling your tight walls around him. He leaned down, capturing your lips. He slowly pulled out of you and snapped his hips back in. You whimpered against him.
Your nails found his back, he slowly started to pump faster and faster inside you. You moaned against his mouth scratching down his back. Your long acrylic nails surely leave him bleeding.
He moans into your mouth as he starts to approach his climax. “Fuck fuck I can't hold on for much longer,” he whines. “Keep going, I'm so close,” you whine back to him. He grips the pillows behind your head as his hips snap against yours.
The coil snaps as your walls flutter around his member. Your eyes roll back as you mewl out for him. Your orgasm washes over you like a powerful wave, you squeezed him so tight you pulled his orgasm out of him.
His hips stuttered for a second before continuing to pump in and out of you as white ropes shot to your core. After a few seconds, he stood still before removing himself from you.
You feel him drop to your chest bringing the blanket up over himself and holding you. He snuggled his head into your chest not wanting this moment to be over.
Eventually, it had to be. So to Johnnie’s dismay, he rolled over on the other side of your bed. You giggle as he lets out a dramatic huff. “Mmm fuck.” he mumbles his headache returning. You rolled over as well smiling down at him.
“We should go shower now,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. “Mm later,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.
The two of you sat with one another for a while. Just resting, tracing his tattoos. Eventually you moved to the bathroom, turning the warm water on. You stepped in letting the water heat your body.
The shower door opened and you turned around to see Johnnie stepping in after you.
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v3nusxsky · 1 year
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Am I yours? 18+
*Authors note~ smut smut smut and more smut. Anyone else such a slut for weems? Also I apologise to the requester but I lost the ask I’m sorry :(*
Trigger Warnings~ sub l dom r (as many of you asked for more sub l) g!p r (I don't make the rules) degrading kink praise kink spit kink overstimulation kink oral daddy kink
Prompt~ Hey . Can you do a fic where dom R has a crush on sub L and ended up in L's bed that night with L . The next day when R expects love, L harshly asks her to leave the room. After crying for days, R tries to move on and spend time with another girl not love just friendship). Jealous L realizes her love for R, pleads and begs R to stay with her.
Still angry R punishes(sex) L for the previous ignorance ended up cuddling each other.
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
You'd always been crushing on your boss since day one. It wasn't something you had the confidence to be so forward with your advances. You like to be in control in the bedroom but when it came to making the first move, rejection was always something you feared. It hinders your confidence. But one night at the Nevermore staff party, some alcohol (okay a lot of alcohol) and a little bit of peer pressure from coach Valad you found yourself living your fantasies out in reality. The best night you could have ever imagined and you were slightly mad at yourself for being intoxicated, but you'd never forget what occurred between you and her.
You were woken by a gasp and the bed sheets being torn from your body, your morning wood on full display. Truly, you couldn't do much but blink away the sleepy haze in shock. "Isa?" You mumbled only to be hit with a pillow and a shriek from the blonde, "Get out! Get out! Get out!" You couldn't help but feel hurt and feel shocked at such a reaction, not what you were expecting after letting her see the real you, being so vulnerable with her only to now be kicked out from her room after spending the night together.
That's how you quilt shoved your clothing on and fled the room to escape what you assumed would be a hurl of insults about how unnatural and disgusting you are. How you shouldn't have slept with your boss. Yes you could definitely do without the abuse. You fled to your room where you would take up residence for the next three days, only leaving once a day to squash the tales of you being injured or something like that. You weren't eating or showering and sleep, you were haunted with the memories of that night and how it would never happen again. A freak of nature is what she called you in a nightmare.
Valad was fed up of you hibernating, not understanding why you weren't glowing since you finally got to sleep with your crush. Larissa seemed to be unusually irritated and quick to anger these days. So of course he had to do something, that's how Marilyn found herself knocking on your bedroom door. "Hi, Valad sent me. He said you might need some friendly company" she murmured to you through the door, only for you to completely ignore her. Marilyn tried for a while but you were not having any of it so she left your room, only to be spotted by Larissa. And well she put two and two together and came up with eight.
Being called into your bosses office wasn't exactly ideal with your present situation. You'd not spoken to her for three days, the rejection still fresh and lingering in your mind. What on earth could she be wanting you for at this time of night anyway was all you could grumble on the way to her office. Once there you were met with a seething blonde. Her rage was obvious but what had caused it couldn't be further from a unsolved mystery.  "You and Marilyn can not be sneaking around to see each other in school hours" the tall principal practically growled at you, "it's already forbidden that two teachers date! Imagine the scandal. It's like your trying to rub it in. God why can't you just see what's right in front of you!"
"Me? Really Larissa. Is that what this is? Jealousy. You know damn well there's no rules on relationships between staff members and you can't control who wishes to check on me after you threw me away like some unwanted toy. Discarded after I have no use. So if it's me that can't see what's in front of me then you know I'm in love with you! Yet you choose to ignore it so if that's all" you raged the emotion overbearing as tears trailed down your flushed cheeks. But before you could even turn to leave Larissa was up in your personal space before crashing her lips to yours in a desperate attempt to convey her true feelings. "Stay. Please. I'll do whatever I need to prove to you how foolish and sorry I am."
That was how Larissa found herself devoid of clothing and tied up on her bed. You were not showing her any mercy tonight, still upset about the fact she kicked you out. You were merciless with how you were eating her out, tongue curling just right as you lapped at her leaking cunt. Edging her over and over to make her feel some of the emotion you have. Tears leaking from her eyes as she begged and pleaded you to let her cum, "please please no more please daddy need to cum."
"More? Hmm okay" you teased, untying her restraints and settling yourself between her legs. Your rock hard cock pulsating with need. "Such a fucking slut, kicking me out then begging for me to fuck you again. What a whore, the principal of Nevermore begging like a cheep slut" you purred stroking your thick shaft. "Pathetic really, look at your tight little hole clenching around thin air. Such a cock slut, now open your mouth" she demanded, loving how she instantly complied. You then lined your dick up with her pussy and slipped in, to distract her you spat in her mouth and demanded she swallow like a good girl. And of course like a good little submissive she did just that.
The tears continued flowing as you practically hammered your cock in and out of her quivering hole. Both of you being worked up to a high where Larissa was desperately begging you to let her fly over that edge this time. Promising to be good for daddy and to never hurt your feelings again. Truthfully you felt you'd punished her enough but of course you weren't going to tell her that, rather you just continued brutally fucking her until she went cock drunk for you, her orgasms washing over her in powerful tidal waves of immense pressure. You followed seconds after, I mean how could you not? Her cunt suffocating your dick like this was making it hard to hold on this long.
Of course you came painting her walls white and you worked the poor blonde back down slowly as she cried for no more, her red puffy lips sore and swollen from overstimulation. "You did so good for me Isa, so good baby" you murmured giving her a sweet kiss before running off to find items to clean her up alongside some water. Once that was all settled you began to dress which seemed to startle the fucked out blonde, "where ? Stay please. I'm sorry. Stay. I love you." The last three words nearly not audible but you caught them. They single handedly warmed your heart and encouraged you back to bed where you could sleep holding the woman you love. Only when morning came you were blessed with sleepy cuddles and kisses rather than being hit with pillows this time.
Word count ~ 1329
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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years
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Good Night Rituals - Batfam x Fem!Reader
Synopsis : You have a special little way to tuck your children in, to tell them “Goodnight” and send them off to have sweet dreams, and they absolutely love it. It makes, however, your Bruce a little jealous, at times...
When I was a kid, my mom used to sing to my brother and I a song every night, after our bed time story, and then she’d tell us she loved her, we’d in turn be like “I love you from here to the Moon !” and it’d go for a good half an hour of arguing over who loved the other one most...It inspired this mini-fic. Something very short, again to make you wait for longer more elaborate stuffs. Sorry i’m being slow, a lot of things (good things) is happening and I have very little time. I hope you will like this little thing :) : 
My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives
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Dick
Dick is the one that invented this little “night ritual”. 
He told you this was the perfect name for it, because it sounded like you were witches up to no good, and he “loved that for you two”. 
Of course, it was fairly obvious he’d be the instigator of it all, as he was the oldest child. Your first little kiddo. Oh, but you helped too. 
The good ol’ days, during which you had absolutely NO idea how to raise a child. When you and Bruce, frankly, hadn’t been adults for THAT long, considering. 
And yet, and you were sure it was entirely thanks to little Dickie, everything came to you naturally. Everything felt right. Even if sometimes, you were a little clumsy. 
Both you and Bruce tried so hard though. To make Dick feel home. And like you were his parents. You never tried to replace his mom and dad. But in Dick’s own words, you just slowly became his chance at having parents again. 
Becoming Dick’s mom, and Dick’s dad, didn’t mean he forgot the ones he lost. It just meant he loved you as much as he loved them. And though the loss would forever hurt, he did know both John and Mary Grayson would’ve want him to be happy. 
And at Wayne Manor ? With you and Bruce ? He became happy. There was a few rough and dark first days, but things slowly build up. 
You became a family. You were his parents, now. And he knew, that his mom and dad wouldn’t be mad at him if he “moved on”, and allowed himself to love again. 
Bruce often said that he adopted Dick because he didn’t want the boy to become him. And in that simple fact, in that simple way little Dick Grayson understood he still had a chance at being happy, at having a family...He was already extremely different from his “new” dad. 
At least, from when he was at his age. 
Mission accomplished. 
In any case, this parent thing that was thrown your way, became one of the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life. 
And again, although there were some clumsy moments, and not everything was always great (Dick had some mighty fit of rage at times, Bruce could be a jerk, and hell sometimes you needed to get away from them as well because you could be such a dick...Everyone has their moments where they’re not on their best behavior, it’s called life), you were a mom, now. 
And being a mom, in your mind, meant tucking your kid in when it was time for bedtime. 
Only, it was easier said than done. 
Dick was a difficult child to put in bed. He’d always find ways to not sleep, and make you stay longer with him. Eventually, you made a “deal”. 
And that’s how the “night ritual” was born. 
You see, before this little ritual. This “deal” as you called it at first, before Dick found the name. It took you hours, to put him to bed. 
Bruce was often out in the city early (although he always made sure to be here for a good night kiss and a “love you, champ. See you tomorrow, sleep well”) and Alfred would monitor the computer, at those times. 
Later, when Dick grew up, you’d often be behind that monitor. But if a kid had to be put to bed ? You gladly took it upon yourself to do it. 
For you, especially in those early motherhood days, it was important to be there for your child. For him to feel like he wasn’t an afterthought, and that “the butler” (although everyone knew Alfred was more than that) wasn’t here to take him off of your hands. 
So bedtime, was your task. The task you gave yourself. 
And oh boy, with Dick ? It quickly turned into a hassle. 
“I’m thirsty...Wait, I’m afraid to stay alone in the room, piggyback ride to the kitchen ?” 
“I can’t sleep, it’s a full Moon.” 
“Hey, I didn’t clean up my room today ! We can’t leave all my toys laying around like that, can we ?” 
It was always “one last story” or “I have to pee” or “I forgot to brush my teeth !”. 
And at the time, you just didn’t have the heart to scold him and tell him it was enough, that it was time for bed. Oh well, who were you kidding. Even now, you didn’t scold your kids if they took their sweet time to get to bed. 
You just didn’t quite understood the point in getting  mad at them just because they didn’t go to bed right away. Dick eventually fell asleep, and not even that late. And if he was stalling for too long, he would only get mad at himself the next day because he’d be exhausted, and then that night he’d go to bed earlier. 
So no. You didn’t get mad. It sounded ridiculous, to yell at kids for this. However, you were a mom now. And you knew your kid couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he was as sweet as Dick. 
Dick was nice almost all the time. He listened, did his chores, worked in school...So what if you gave him a little freedom sometimes ?
Yes. Sometimes. It was fine sometimes. 
But not all the time, like it had become. And not for bedtime. Seeing your son, in the morning, with big bags under his eyes, made you think of your husband, and oh you didn’t want this little 8 years old to be as tired as your Broosh could be. 
Of course, Dick was in bed WAY BEFORE Bruce came to bed. But for a small child like him, falling asleep at 10 or 11 pm was already too late. 
And so, one day you had enough. And you decided to make a deal with him. There had to be things required for him to go to bed (like a story, for example), but when you said : “it’s time for bed now”, he HAD to listen. The threat was that you’d just kiss him goodnight and leave. 
At first, Dick didn’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly have the heart to not tell him a story, and leave him alone so soon ! But you had to give him a lesson. 
And so, came the first unpleasant act you did as a parent. Because being nice and lenient was one thing, but you still were his mom. Not his friend. And there had to be certain rules, especially for such a young child. 
Rules, that he had to understand, or it was meaningless. Now, of course, you weren’t as harsh as your husband (you’d get mad at him enough, when he trained Dick and was a little too much). But still. You couldn’t let him decide of everything. You really REALLY didn’t want him to become a brat who thought he could just have anything whenever he wanted. 
Dick was a great kid, your worst fear at the time was that he’d turn into a phony who thought of himself as superior just because he was from a famous and rich family, and allowed to do whatever he wanted. 
And so, the “night ritual” began. On a common accord (because Dick was such a good kid, but also because that time you just kissed him, tucked him in and left really left a mark on him and he hated that so much !). 
You realized the reason he couldn’t get to sleep right away was because he was always wayyyy too excited, but also...because he didn’t want you to leave so soon. 
He dreaded the moment you’d leave, and he would be alone in his room. 
So you put in place a system, that would gradually make him sleepy. And...
It worked. 
First, you’d get dessert in bed. Usually fresh milk and a cookie. Something light, just to put him a little bit to sleep (Dick always got sleeping after he ate something, for some reasons). And you’d talk about your day, about how you felt. You’d lay it all out, so that your boy wouldn’t get to bed with any negative feelings. Talking, always helped. 
Then you’d read him a bedtime story. Better yet, you’d invent a bedtime story just for him (this is how your most famous book saga, “Richard and the Space pirates” came to be). If you felt benevolent that night, you’d even tell him two stories. 
One would usually do the trick, however.
Then you’d sing him a few lullabies, to lull him softly to sleep. 
And as he’d fall asleep, you’d whisper : 
“I love you so much.”
And he’d answer, outraged but too weak to really argue. A few last words before falling into a deep slumber : 
“I love you more !”
And bam. He’d be passed out. Your soft voice in his ears, as you told him a story, sang to him, and told him he was loved...It was what he needed. 
He was a rather young child too, who had a busy life. School, training, homework...So of course, with a little coaxing, he’d fall asleep fast. 
But he had to know you were there. Had to know he had those moments with you, and wouldn’t be alone before he fell asleep.
See, you understood that all his stalling before the “night ritual” was put in place, was because he was trying to tire himself out before you left. He was trying to keep you there as long as possible, just so he would fall asleep fast once you were gone. 
“I love you most.” 
You’d tell him, as he was already sleeping sweetly, clinging to his comforter as you slowly caressed his hair, laid a last kiss on his forehead, and left the room. Making sure before, that his little light was on, in case he woke up at night. 
Dick hated the dark. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you more !”
“I love you most.” 
Night ritual. 
Existing because your oldest kiddo, Dick, needed some “guidance” to fall asleep. But most importantly, because he needed to know you’d be there too, until he fell into his dreams. 
You’d indulge him. Meeting him half-way between “doing everything he wants you to do” and “being way too strict”. There were rules, to bedtime. 
A “night ritual”. 
But the rules were lax. Could be bend. And existed only so he would be able to sleep relatively early. 
For years and years, you’d do that little nightly ritual with him. It stopped when he was around 14, even if he still had a kiss goodnight and got tucked in. Things really stopped overall when he left for the Titans, shortly after turning 16, after that awful fight with his father. 
Oh and to be honest, something he’d never tell anyone...Even now, as a grown ass adult, he’d sometimes call you at night just so you could sing him a song, as your voice was still the thing that’d put him peacefully at sleep even to this day. But the real “night ritual” stopped. Your little boy grew up.
Which made you so sad...But then Jason came in. And soothed the pain. 
Jason
Jason ressembled Dick in that he really wanted you to stay for the longest possible. But, unlike Dick who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and who could be a bit of a brat sometimes, Jason wouldn’t say anything. 
Dick definitely used his little charms and smiles to make you and Bruce crack, and give in...the little bugger even taught his younger siblings everything about how to manipulate you two into saying “yes”, to your greatest dismay...
Oh but, was one more scoop of ice cream really that bad ? After all, your children were nice most of the time, it was fine to be a little lenient sometimes, and though Bruce loved to think of himself as a strict parent, nobody was fooled, you were both pretty cool and lax...Which didn’t mean your children were misbehaving brats, although they had their moments, like everyone. 
Anyway, Dick used to make it clear he was demanding for you to stay longer with him when bedtime was coming. 
But Jason was a little shyer. He spend his entire life until then thinking he was bothering the people around him, that he was a burden, so he really didn’t want his new family to think that of him. 
But you could see it in his eyes. You could. When he wanted for you to tell one more story, or to sing him one more lullaby. And although you were constantly teased by your husband about how easy those kids played you (as if he was one to talk)...you couldn’t resist. 
You were always left rather sad and depressed, if you put one of your kids to bed and they looked visibly upset. So you’d stay longer. Anything for them to go to bed feeling good. 
About life. About themselves. About everything, really. 
A child shouldn’t have his sleep burdened by any worries.
Of course you knew you couldn’t be forever there for them, they’d eventually grow up and you wouldn’t really need to “tuck them in” anymore (at the time, you had  no idea that even well in their twenties, if they came to sleep at the Manor, even as they already moved out, they’d ask you for a good night kiss...The magic of being consistent in your love for them, really). 
You knew that eventually, they’d grow up too much and wouldn’t need you as much. That it’d be harder, too, to cheer your little ones up. Growing up unfortunately meant your worries grew with you too, and were harder and harder to forget. Or to be distracted from. 
You knew one day would come, in which little Jason would not be soothed anymore, by you telling him a bed time story. 
So maybe, you cracked a little too often, especially with him. 
You knew Dick had a good childhood, before you adopted him. But Jason ? He was bruised and abused, and thrown away like a dirty socks too often. Nobody ever wanted him, anywhere he went. 
Which was why, he didn’t dare to ask for a second story when you finished the first one. 
See, Dick would just jump up in his bed, do a backflip and dramatically say : “Pleaaaase fair lady, another story for the poor squire boy !”. Which would make you smile, and tell him one more. 
But Jason ? He didn’t say anything. And held all his feelings of sadness and disappointment inside. 
He wanted, more often than not, a second story so bad. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want you to realize he was actually a burden, and to throw him away, just like everyone else did. 
Jason always got to have a second story. Of course, any of your kids would if they asked. But Jason never dared to ask. So you’d just give it to him naturally. 
He always started to fall asleep half-way through the second story, which you’d keep on hold to then sing to him. 
Your songs would make him slowly drift to sleep, a genuine smile on his face. 
Oh. Jason. Always such a sweet boy, afraid to bother others, yet as contradictory as it sounded boisterous and full of life. 
Your little Jason. When Dick left for the Titans, you hadn’t realized how much you missed having a little one home. And then. 
Then there was Jason. 
When he died, you thought your “motherhood” died with him. Dick was over eighteen by then, and even if Jason’s death made him come back to the Manor, there was no “night ritual” anymore. You didn’t have the heart for it anyway...
You still had Dick, but losing your young son like that, knowing how he died, made you feel like you would never recover. You were in such a bad shape, that you couldn’t even help Bruce when he also fell into a dark well. When he turned back to being overly violent as Batman, practices he stopped when Dick left and opened his eyes. When Dick questioned him. 
You still had Dick, but it felt like part of what you were as a mother, died with Jason. How could you do a “night ritual” properly now, with the memories of your son’s sweet smile, him telling you this was his favorite part of his day ? With the memories of...
You moved from the East wing to the West wing, after Jason’s death. None of you could walk past his empty room anymore. 
Dick came back. And it was his turn, to help you fall asleep. More than one night, he spend trying to comfort you as you couldn’t stop the tears from running down. He never left you alone. 
Bruce couldn’t handle any of it, and he buried himself under his work as Batman. It would take him some time, before he realized that you had to be there for each others...
When Jason died, it felt like it was the end of everything nice about motherhood. Every night, you fell asleep with your head in your oldest son’s laps, seeing in his eyes the grief and pain of it all.
And you felt guilty. More depressed and sadder. You always hated seeing your children off to bed looking upset...
But it was hard to resist. Everything felt so far away. And Bruce wasn’t there. This was one of the darker moment, in your family life...
Dick felt helpless. He hadn’t been able to save his little brother. Now he couldn’t even help his parents. It felt like the entire family was breaking...
And then. Then Tim came in. 
Tim
Tim’s parents never tucked him in, too busy with their high society lives. 
So when he started to live with you and Bruce, after he lost both of them, he didn’t really expect you to...
“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 
You asked him on his first night being officially adopted. 
Oh but this was rather long after you started to see him as your own son. Tim already stayed over the Manor many times (without his parents ever even calling to know where he was). And he’d been Robin for a few months, before his parents passed away and he was officially adopted into the Wayne family (A/N : no need to tell me that canonically, Tim got adopted quite a long time after his parents died and he was “just” a ward like Dick was, for a while ;). No need either to tell me he was “older” than the age I give him there, which is around 10/11...Firstly because it varies according to canons, like sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s fifteen, but also because this is a fanfic and my canon ages for the boys are taken from the canon I prefer XD which are not the ones in which he had a certain “Happy 15th birthday” pizza. Anyway what I mean is, that I’m not entirely accurate here for sure, but eh, it’s a FANfic, let’s allow ourself a little freedom...there’s no official canon on his age or how old he was when adopted anyway, it varies wildly from era to era hehe). 
Both you and Bruce kept your distance from him, at first. In more way than others, he painfully reminded you of the son you lost. And it felt wrong, to replace him so...
Replace him ? 
Slowly, both of you were reminded of that conversation you had with Dick, once. When he was little, and asking if his parents would be mad if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. 
That conversation, during which all of you talked about how you didn’t replace John and Mary, you just became another family for him. His new parents. 
Didn’t mean he would ever forget about the ones who were ripped away from him. Just that he...
He allowed himself to love again. 
And you did, too, when you finally accepted Tim in your life. 
That boy had a way, anyway, to crawl inside your heart and settle comfortable there...He was just such a bright one, in more than one way. Sure, he was extremely intelligent, but he also just...Shone. A new sun in your life. 
Not one that would replace any other Sun. Just. A new one. That you were allowed to love, too. 
“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 
Now, he was officially your son. And this was the first night he’d spend in the Manor being yours. Before, you never dared to tuck him in, by fear of getting too attached just for him to be ripped away from you...And he almost did. 
His father, almost took him away, before his ultimate demise... But that was another story. 
Tonight, was the first night as your son. And he was still so small, just ten little years. The age Jason was too, when the official adoption papers were signed...
You chased away the painful memories, as little Timmy looked at you, surprised. But you could see a hint of interest in his eyes. 
“A bedtime story ?” 
“Yes, if you want to of course. You don’t have to-”
“I’d love a bedtime story !” 
He was in such a hurry to tell you this, that it made you smile. And you could feel it in your bones. That boy never had anyone asking him if he wanted to be told a story, before sleep. 
It was obvious in his excitement, and it was obvious in his hopeful eyes. Eyes that were asking : “...Do I really mean something to you ? Enough that you’d spend time reading to me ?”. 
It broke your heart. Poor little one. Even though he had parents, and came from a rich family, he was never truly cared for. It was obvious in everything he did. 
Often, he’d try to do stuffs on his own, and would be surprised if you, Alfred or Bruce would ask if he needed help... 
Ah. Well tonight. Tonight called for one of your made up stories for sure. A mere random storybook wouldn’t do. No. You had to tailor one for him. Just for him. So he would finally know how special he is. 
“Ok, well then.”  
You settled next to him in his bed, as he sat up, the excitement pouring out of his very being. Alfred chose that time, to drop some milk and cookies, as he informed you he would be down in the Batcave to help Bruce. 
Impeccable timing. As usual. 
You thanked him, and started your story, as Tim looked at you with wide eyes, eating his cookie absentmindedly, quickly realizing you were telling a story about him ! : 
“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Timothy, and he didn’t know it yet but one day...He’d save the entire Kingdom of Waynalia. How, you might ask ? Well it was simple. You see, young Timothy had a talent to cure people’s heart. And the King and Queen of Waynalia, who were known to be cruel and vile, only were so because they’ve had broken hearts for far too long...” 
Tim fell asleep at the end of the story. And just like his brothers, quickly took to this “night ritual”. After all, he was still just a child. And this entire “milk/cookie/ story/lullabies/kiss goodnight” was great. 
Cassandra
Cassandra was fifteen, when she started to live with you at Wayne Manor. Too old, you thought, for the “night ritual”
Dick himself stopped demanding it around aged fourteen (after a certain Wally West mocked him when he heard of it), and even that was rather old when you thought of it. One of the main reason he slowly detached himself from it (apart from being mocked), was being Robin full time now, and going most nights out, so he didn’t really have the energy anymore for the ritual. It wasn’t needed. Which sort of broke your heart. 
Jason died before he ever got the “chance” to ask you to stop....
But this was not something you wanted to think about. Oh no. 
In any case, Cass was fifteen, and you thought, too old to want some bedtime stories by her mom, or any sort of snuggles. 
That was until...
A nightmare. 
You heard her, it felt even in your sleep. Something woke you, and then she started to scream. Bruce wasn’t home yet, and it was her night off (you forced all of them to have one, at least once a week). 
That night, you had marathoned your favorite TV show with her, and went to bed your separate ways. You did kiss her goodnight, and told her you loved her (you always told them at least once a day, because you learned that in your line of work...you never knew what could happen...Jason’s smiling cheeky face came to your mind, did you tell him often enough that he-no. Not tonight.). 
And then, late, it was pitch black out, you heard her scream. 
Your mother instinct made you run to her. Quickly, you understood she had yet another bad dream about her father coming to get her, and forcing her to be a weapon again. It happened so often... 
You shook her up, and she almost knocked you down as she was slowly regaining consciousness and wondering what the hell was happening and where she was. You know, those few seconds before you’re fully awake, when you’re not even sure you’re even someone anymore ? The time you need to remember oh right, I’m human, and I was in my bed. This is my bedroom. Right. 
To sooth her, you started to slowly sing to her. To hold her while you rocked gently back and forth, and sung. 
She didn’t talk, as you dried her tears. As you reminded that this was all fine, she was home, and David Cain would never hurt her again. 
Cass calmed down, and fell back asleep. You held her most of the night, waiting for Bruce to come back. You just didn’t feel like going back alone in your bed, after such screams
The next night off she had, when it was time to part at the top of the stairs after yet another TV show marathon, when you’d go to your room and her to hers...
She stopped. And held onto your sleeve. 
“Cass, honey, what is it ?”  
There was a few seconds of silence, before she said : 
“Do it again ?” 
And you understood instantly. 
See, the other nights, the ones she didn’t have off, Cass would come home exhausted after a night of vigilanting. But when she had her night off, when she wasn’t “working”...Sleep was hard to come. 
You knew all too well what she felt. Your Broosh was the same, and already poured his feelings to you about it more than once. 
Now, Cassandra wasn’t much of a talker (your husband either, really, but then it was different with you)but you could see it in her eyes. 
“Sing ?” 
She nodded. And so you went to tuck her in. 
You thought she was “too old”. You thought she wouldn’t like it. You thought, as she was slowly discovering her own independence after being treated as a weapon and not choosing anything in her life, that she’d want to be alone in moments like this. 
And oh. Oh you thought wrong. 
That night, you sang to her until she fell asleep. And slowly but surely, the “night ritual” put himself into place. 
Over the years, it didn’t change much. Because it was such a successful formula. Milk and cookies was talking about their day, getting their feelings out. A story by you. A soothing lullabies. Snuggles and kisses. 
Winning formula. 
Why change it ? Your children were all wildly different, but the one thing that linked them all, was how much they loved you and your antics. 
Each of them had “mom time”, where they’d spend the day just with you (just like your Broosh and you had date nights and such). You always took time to spend individual time with all of them, and during those times the activities would be very different from one kid to another. 
But those “night rituals” ? They didn’t need to change. Because they were perfect the way they were. Exactly what they all needed. Pure love, in many ways. And the knowledge they’d never be alone again. 
Love and loneliness. 
Two things your youngest son, Damian, struggled with for years. 
Damian
“I love you, little one.” 
The first time, Damian didn’t respond. He just nodded, and turned around in his bed, back facing you. 
He couldn’t face you, or you’d see the “stupid” smile plastering his face at the mere thought he was loved, and had a real mom...But that, you didn’t know.
You didn’t really take it personally, you happened to know another “emotionally stunted” Wayne, so you were used to it. It took a while, for Bruce to finally admit his feelings for you. Even if they were obvious, and written all over his face (which is why Damian used the “back facing you” trick). 
You knew it’d take time. So for now, you’d settle with a simple kiss, and reminding him he was cherished. 
And then one day... 
“Why do you not read me bed time stories ? Or make one up, with me as the hero ?” 
“Beg you pardon ?” 
You were diligently tucking him in, as he never told you off when you did it, when he asked this, taking you by surprise. What he said didn’t quite register, until he added : 
“Grayson says that when he was little, you’d tell him a story. Made him the hero of it. And then you’d sing. He said there were cookies, too. Why do you not do that with me ?” 
Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh. 
You got it now. But you’re no less surprised. 
“I thought...You had no interest in those ?” 
Damian nodded slowly, and said : 
“I know why you would think this...Mom.”
Mom. That...He hadn’t call you that very often, so far...
“But when you come to tuck me in, I never have nightmares. I sleep soundly, and I dream of-Soft things. Like unicorns and cats.” 
This makes you smile. Oh. Oh if only people could see the Damian right in front of you, and not the Damian he liked to pretend he was. 
Sweet, sweet boy. 
“I know why you think I don’t want a story, and snuggles, and all the thing Grayson gushed about for hours. But I...Do. I like when you come to tell me goodnight, and I wouldn’t mind if it lasted longer ?” 
He was so unsure. Very unlike his cocky usual self. 
This, was the real Damian. 
The one who really wants to connect with others, who wants to be good, but he’s just not really sure on how to proceed. So he pretends he doesn’t care. 
But he does. He cares a lot. 
He’s very much like your Broosh, in that regard. Like father like son, eh ? Both of them love to hide emotions from their faces, and pretend everything is ok, even when they’re breaking inside. 
Silly boys. 
You managed to reach Bruce. You were sure you could reach your son...
And it had already started. You could see it. You smile, and leave his room to get cookies and milk. 
And oh damn it, you should’ve told him you were doing that ! Because when you came back, he was laying in his bed and looked absolutely crestfallen ! There was even small tears in his eyes, oh no ! 
You quickly understood that he thought you were refusing to do the famous “night ritual” with him. That you just went to bed too, and weren’t going to tell him a story. 
His face brightens, truly brightens, reminding you of when the sun just comes out from behind high mountains. He sees the cookies and milk, and oh. Oh he looks so excited. 
You dried his tears with the back of your hand, and smiled fondly at him. 
It makes everything worth it. All your effort to connect with him, worth the work and heartache it brought. 
You knew. You knew you’d eventually make it. And it’s that evening, when he asked for “the night ritual”, that you truly realized it. 
First, cookies and milk, and a little talk about his day. His feelings, too. 
Then the story, one you made up with him as the hero. He seemed to love that, especially to be a good hero, and not a villain. Cute, and heartbreaking at the same time. 
Then come the lullabies. 
And finally, the soft drift to sleep, and a last feel of warmth as you kiss his forehead and leave him to a deep slumber. 
Damian has never felt so peaceful in his life before. 
Duke
You didn’t really dare, at first, going to tell him good night. 
Unlike your other children, Duke arrived in the family being a sixteen years old boy. Way pass needing someone to tuck him in. And you didn’t want to overstep your bound, you already knew how difficult things were for him. How hard it was to adapt to it all. 
It was quite the same than with Cass. But even more complicated. 
Cass’ childhood was inexistent, really. Destroyed before she could enjoy it. So sometimes, when with you or Bruce, she’d let go, and act like a child, even though she was older. It was fine. She never had a childhood, she could make up for it now. And so what if she liked hot cocoas and cuddles ? Nobody would hold it against her. 
In fact, most adults would probably LOVE to be taken care of by their mom again.
But Duke, was different. He had a happy childhood, parents who were loving and caring...His mom most likely told him stories, and sung him lullabies. 
And he was sixteen. And in the middle of an identity crisis, as his powers just barely manifested. 
So you didn’t go to tuck him in. Even if you really wanted to. 
You wanted to give Cass freedom, let her explore herself, as she always lived following someone else’s orders and view of life. 
But Duke ? Duke was an entirely different case from Cass. And you could see him, at times, feeling lost and sad. 
You always hated having your kids go to bed upset. But what could you do ? 
He was certainly not gonna let you...Or, was he ? 
After all, you never asked. 
“Do you...Want a bedtime story ?” 
He stares at you, visibly confused and thinking you’re a little crazy. And you realize yes, this question is ridiculous. The boy was sixteen ! 
“Nevermind, sorry that was stupid. I was just thinking...Well I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. Night buddy.” 
“Wait !” 
Uh ? There was a sort of little panic, in his voice. As if he was afraid you were leaving so soon. You turned around, and waited for him to speak again. 
“Maybe not a...bedtime story but...Maybe, maybe we could talk ? For a little bit ? My...My mom and I used to talk every night, it helped me sleep.” 
You felt a lot of things at the same time. 
Touched he wanted to do with you what he used to do with his mom. 
Reassured to realize your guts were right, and that his mom did tuck him in sweetly every night. 
And sad that it took him so long to ask you for this. 
“Of course Duke, of course.” 
Duke, was older than any of your other children, when he came into your life. But it didn’t mean...
It didn’t mean he didn’t need you. Or your motherly side. 
He never quite had the full “night ritual” experience, as some aspect of it were definitely too childish. But he had the cookies and milk. And the talk. And the feel that you would always be there for him. 
Always. 
************
The end ? 
No. 
Bruce 
Bruce tossed and tossed in his bed, sleep evading him. 
There used to be a time, every nights were like that. Unable to fall asleep, and when he did, his slumber was plagued with the most terrible nightmares. 
Maybe that’s why, more than anything else, he decided to use his nights to be a vigilante ? Of course, the cover of nights helped in many ways, doing his Batman work in broad daylight would be more difficult (even if he did do some work during the day). Especially in regards of his “Brucie Wayne” persona, his cover up, pretending he definitely can’t be Batman. 
Ever since his parents died, Bruce had trouble falling asleep. That’s probably why it was so easy for him to train himself to sleep barely a few hours a night, and stay in shape even as he often ran on very little resting time. 
He lived like that for so many years...
And then. Then you appeared in his life. 
And every nights in your arms were peaceful, he was taken by a deep sleep that could happen only with you. He slept so soundly, when you were there, that often when you had to wake up before him, you had to call Alfred so he’d help you untangle yourself from his grasp (I wrote a story about that haha : How to remove a Wayne safely).
You forced him to take at least one night off, and he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to rest on those nights...yet he always fell asleep like a baby, around 11 pm max, often falling asleep in front of whatever movie you were watching, just the two of you. 
You had that power. To allow him to sleep well, and not have such awful nightmares.
So when you weren’t with him, he couldn’t find sleep. 
He would toss, again and again, and whenever he’d almost fall asleep, his hand would unconsciously look for you in bed and the fact you were absent would make him be wide awake again. 
Yes. He just couldn’t sleep, when you weren’t there. 
Which is why...Which is why he was a little grumpy, when you would take a long time telling your children good night. It was a sort of jealousy he wasn’t very proud of. 
Fighting other men to get your attention ? Any day. Fighting his own children...Felt a little shameful. Not like he could control this feelings, there was time, he was a little selfish. And you two had such few times to yourself, with the life you lead, that any opportunity was taken gladly.
He’d always try to be there for the story time, and for a kiss and some “Love you, kiddo” before leaving either for the cave, or to take an early night in.
Early night ins. Rare occasion. 
Like tonight. His one night off this week. 
He trusted his cousin, Batwoman, to take care of the city, and his oldest sons, Dick and Jason, who were now old enough to go out there on their own, too...Well, he did still hid trackers in them, and made sure to ask Kate to keep an eye on them, but they were adults. 
Capable of taking care of themselves, and go out there to keep Gotham safe, and take care of their younger siblings.
They were still absolutely forbidden to go out there alone. And no one wanted to argue much with your husband about safety, he had already made punchlines for those occurrences and it was impossible to win against him. 
Cass, Tim, Damian and Duke weren’t allowed yet to fly solo like their older brothers. They were only allowed to go out there while Bruce wasn’t IF they were with Kate, Dick, or Jason. 
Bruce particularly liked when they were with Jason because although many would think he was the most reckless one, because of his “bad boy” reputation but...When it came to his siblings’ safety, he did NOT joke around. 
Dick encouraged them to become their own person, and to take initiative (he trusted them to know what they could and could not do, and he was right). But Jason ? Jason took after you, and your “mama hen” personality, for sure. 
Actually, Bruce often sneakily stuck one of his younger kid with Jason, so his reckless son would be more careful. Neither you nor your husband wanted to ever lose him again...So what if you had to resort to dirty tactics and ask him to look after a younger siblings for him to be less incautious ?
In any case, it had been a long time deal by then, that Bruce HAD to take at least one night off. All of them had; They each had one night a week. Conveniently, there were seven of them. 
On those nights, you and Bruce would be together every single second of it, relishing in a little alone time, and in spending an entire night together for once, and not just a few hours there and there. 
But tonight, Damian was sick, and couldn’t go out either. Which was why you weren’t in bed with Bruce, right now. You were tucking your sick son in, and it already took quite a while on normal days but as he was feeling under the weather ??
Bruce knew you. He knew you would stay with him until he fell asleep. And he knew his son, too. He knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible just to be with you. 
Which meant...Your husband being alone, right now, and unable to sleep. Ugh. He should’ve just gone out as Batman tonight, and take a break another day. ...As if you or Alfred would’ve let him. You knew that “taking a break another day”, with him, meant never. 
Bruce tossed a few more times, and resolved that he couldn’t sleep up until you’d come. So he sat up, and thought he might as well take a walk around the Manor. It always calmed him down, as a child... 
That’s when you decided to come in.
“Going somewhere ?” 
You ask him, suspicious. He knows you think he was about to leave for the Batcave. And he doesn’t correct you. It’s better you think that, you already knew way too much how to push all his buttons down, he’d rather you not know that he was in fact about to just walk around the Manor and not go to the bat cave because he promise you to take the night off... 
Oh. Oh if Superman could hear his thoughts right now. He would surely not recognize his “workaholic” friend...And definitely not recognize his will to not piss off his wife, and listen to her. The Batman didn’t care, if he pissed people off ! Well. Except for his wife, who could be very scary, when angry. 
Damn it. 
Your face. 
Your face shows much concern, behind that slight bit of anger at the thought he was about to sneak to the Batcave, that he can’t hold it back for too long. 
To hell, if you were the only one who knew him perfectly, and had him wrapped around your little finger. You gave it back to him plenty. So, just as soon as he was telling himself he wouldn’t tell you the truth...He told you the truth : 
“No. I was-...I was just about to take a walk around the Manor.” 
You look at him, a question in your eyes. And you don’t have to ask him, as he answers : 
“I can’t sleep when you’re not there. Needed to clear my mind.” 
It makes you smile, of course. And it’s the truth, oh it’s the truth. 
He really can’t fall asleep, when you’re not near. 
You climb on the bed, and slowly move to him. 
“How’s Damian ?” 
“Asleep. His fever went down, finally. Thanks the gods.” 
“Was he trying to fight sleep, and argue to have another story ?”
“Oh you know he did.” 
“Haha, I don’t blame him. Anything, to keep you closer for longer.” 
“What a sappy man you turned out to be, my heart. Who would’ve thunk, right ?” 
“Don’t tell Clark.” 
This makes you laugh, and you move even closer to him, settling in his laps, facing him. His hands find themselves around your waist naturally, and as you lay your own hands on his cheeks, looking at him fondly and longingly, you say : 
“I love you, my Broosh.” 
“I love you more.”
“I love you most.” 
“I love you so much I think I’d die if you were gone.” 
“I love you so much I put up with your bullshit.”
“Hahaha. Cheeky. I love you so much I eat your awful gluten free cake without batting an eye.” 
“You ass ! Well, I love you so much I don’t even mention it when you call this disgusting mixture you make in the morning “coffee” “
“Oh wow, ouch. I love you so much I don’t even care about you criticize me.”
You chuckle a little, and kiss his nose, before adding :  
“I love you so much, that I wouldn’t change anything in my life. Not even the heartaches...Because everything lead me to you. And a life without you, is no life at all.” 
Admittedly, you cheated a bit, using his “I love you so much without you I’d die” against him, twisting things a little to pack a little more punch. And...
There’s a short pause, he looks at you, and then he leans over, slowly and softly pecking your lips. You think this means you won tonight, and you will be back in his arms in no time, allowing him to sleep properly...But you’re wrong. 
He says, after burying his face in the crook of your neck, in barely a whisper, his breath tickling you softly : 
“I love you so much, I would quit being Batman if you asked me to.” 
“Wait, what ?” 
You never asked him to. You never did, and never will. Because you were on of the only person on this Earth that truly understood him, and that loved him unconditionally. 
You knew and understood why he dressed like a bat each (or almost each) nights, to go fight crimes in Gotham City. 
You knew and understood all of his motives. 
And for this reason, you’d never ask him to stop doing so. But him admitting he would stop if you did ask, it made you feel...So much. 
It touched you beyond all measure. You didn’t even know how to respond to it. 
“Ah, I win, didn’t I ?” 
You had no words to answer. You knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you, and how impossible it was to even envision a life without him. But he always  managed to surprise YOU with how deeply in love he was with you. How much he’d give up, just for you. How you knew, he would burn the entire world, if it meant saving you...
He would for his children, too. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had been to that warehouse sooner, and killing the Joker meant saving Jason...he would’ve done it. There was no point doing in afterward, once his son was already gone...But there, in the moment, to save him ?
He would. He would kill everyone, just to save his family. 
This was a side not a lot of people knew. They all assumed he wouldn’t do it, that he would let you or his children die for the greater good. That’s why considering, you guys weren’t kidnapped that much. 
Every villain, everyone, always thought that the Batman would not budge from his principles even if it meant saving those he loved. 
And they were wrong. They were so wrong. 
It was good, though, that only you knew that. 
“Ah. I win, didn’t I ?” 
You don’t have the words to answer him, your heart overflowing with so much. Overwhelming. So you go to the next best thing. 
Actions. 
You kiss him. With all the passion and love you can gather in your being. 
You kiss him, and he kisses you back. 
That. 
That was his night ritual. 
The only way he could fall asleep peacefully, like he used to when his mom and dad tucked him in. Before their death. 
Finding purchase once more, in your arms, after years of night plagued with nightmares and pain. 
Being near you. With you. In every way possible. Touching you, feeling you near. Right there. By him. 
The big bad bat’s “night ritual”, it was you. 
It was, and would always be you. 
The end (for good, this time, haha). 
_________________________________________________
As you might’ve noticed, I’m in a very soft mood lately haha. I guess I’m just happy about my current situation, so I wanna write all the fluff and make the Batfam happy...Not for long though. I have some mighty angst in store for you, just you wait ;). In any case, here’s to a small bonus story. Hope you liked it even if it’s not what I said I’d post ^^'. I assure you what I planned is coming, I’m just being damn slow. As usual any comments and reblogs are more than welcomed <3. 
PS : Last time I posted a bonus story, an anon wasn’t happy I wasn’t posting longer stories I said I would post soon haha...So just a quick thing : those stories I’ve been posting lately literally take between 20 minutes to an hour to write. It’s extra fast, and I don’t re-read myself. So I can post them rather rapidly. But those I have in store that are long as hell and full on one-shots I thought a lot about, not just random drabbles, need a lot more work. Which is why they take longer. Which I’d think is obvious to everyone (most of y’all are super understanding and nice <3), but I guess not huh...Please. Be patient with me. I’m super busy lately. But everything I said I’d post WILL be posted. I can promise this much. 
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britishassistant · 3 years
Note
I wonder what the supervillains (the dorm leaders) would do if they get switched with their other self in Twisted Wonderland.
They'll meet a younger Yuu calls them senpai and probably get shivers when they hear someone shout Prefect but then realize its Yuu's role in that world.
Bonus would be if Yuuken's there too, sharing the dorm with Yuu.
Thank you for the ask, dear anon!
I decided to take a little inspo from my Villainous Paranoiac series for this one! Not a whole lot, but the idea of Twisted Wonderland Yuu being put in the infirmary after the events of Chapter Five!
(Also consider it non-canon, since it kinda involves everyone’s identities being exposed!)
Basically imagine that the supervillains find themselves in what looks like a private school infirmary, late at night. The air is buzzing with a strange energy, almost like the powers back in their home world, but...different, somehow.
The room nearly empty, save for one occupant in a cot close to the door.
Poison Queen and King immediately begin bickering over whose fault this mess is, while Royal Flush tries to get them to keep their voices down or else they’ll be detected. Charon is half a minute from going to curl up in a corner, clutching his freeze ray like a lifeline, while Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer are busy inspecting their surroundings for anything of value or that can be requisitioned into a weapon on short notice.
Tsunotaro has wandered over to inspect the sole other living being in the room with them.
He is pleasantly surprised to see what looks like a younger version of the reporter he’s so fond of, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Their cheeks still retain the last bit of baby fat from childhood, and there’s some acne left that will fade with age. He may give one cheek a gentle poke, just to satisfy his curiosity. The sleepy mumble they let out is a little more high pitched than normal, but that’s the reporter’s voice alright.
He is less pleased to see dark circles under their eyes, or the bandages around their throat that stink of medicinal salves. If this truly is a younger version of his child of man, then why do they look so worried, even in sleep? Why are they injured and sleeping in this place of healing in the first place? They’re a mere child, barely old enough to operate a vehicle or live alone. Their only worries should be trivial things, not whatever is causing this furrow in their brow and hunch in their shoulders.
The other supervillains have begun to migrate over to where Tsunotaro is crouching in silent contemplation. King flips his eyepatch up to get a better look, whistling lowly. Octo Dealer busies himself with refilling their water glass, sneaking glances at them as he places it within easy reach. Snake Charmer pulls their pillow more under their head from where it’s almost slipped off. Poison Queen straightens the arrangement of the very tasteful bouquet on the bedside table, so the flowers’ best angle is shown to the bed’s occupant. Royal Flush carefully tucks their covers in over them.
Charon takes a picture with his tablet.
He forgot to turn off his flash.
Yuu cracks their eyes open...
To see seven adults looming over their bed in masks that resemble the ink from the overblots that haunt the Prefect’s nightmares.
Cue terrified screaming.
Snake Charmer lunges forward instinctively to cover Yuu’s mouth—
It’s only thanks to Poison Queen yanking him back that he doesn’t end up with an arrow in the shoulder.
Several more follow the first one through the window above the prefect’s cot, cold iron sharp and perfectly aimed to seriously maim if the supervillains don’t immediately get away from the screaming teenager. Rook was lax in protecting the Trickster after VDC ended, assuming there was no more danger after Roi du Poison’s overblot was saved. He will not make that mistake again.
The infirmary doors burst open, a younger Yuuken in a sleep-rumpled uniform barging in from where he decided to sleep outside because Ramshackle felt too empty and quiet to bear, but was forbidden from staying in the infirmary himself. He only has a pillow, but he brandishes it at the strange adults, fully willing to defend his dorm mate in whatever way he can.
The vanguard appears in a flurry of bats though, too many to fight off, small and vicious and furious. Their commander materializes in the center if the swarm, hovering over the head of Yuu’s cot, pink eyes brimming with a cold rage that makes his small and cute form look like it’s bursting at the seams holding something much older and angrier back. He opens his mouth, fangs long and glistening—
Only to stop short at the sight of one of the supervillains. “Malleus? Malleus Draconia?”
Tsunotaro nods warily.
“Wh-What in Twisted Wonderland are you wearing??”
Tsunotaro ducks his head like a chastened child. “I could say the same thing.” He mutters sullenly.
From there the lights get turned on, and the seven supervillains are made to explain themselves to the sleep-deprived students and staff who trickle in to see what’s going on. All six dorm leaders and one vice dorm leader vanished from their beds, setting everyone on high alert until news of these...alternate versions spread.
It is very weird for the supervillains to see all their minions as teenagers (again in some cases). It is only surpassed by how weird it is for everyone else to see their dorm heads and vice head all grown up and adult, even if they are dressed weird.
Ortho still wants to shoot them with a beam until they bring back his nii-san. Luckily Charon is able to convince him that Idia should be fine if he’s in Charon’s lair—he’s got plenty of the latest games, manga and tech for him to play with, so that should keep him occupied for a while.
Sebek is in a state of Malleus awe. He has shut down and will not restart. Silver has taken to pinching himself just to make sure this isn’t a Lilia’s cooking induced fever dream, while Lilia himself scolds Tsunotaro that he raised him better than to go around watching people sleep like that! Tsunotaro tries to use the “but I’m a supervillain” excuse, only for Lilia to shoot back “and I’m a war criminal in some nations, what’s your point?”
King is enjoying watching the overgrown lizard get scolded. Now if only the tiny Ruggie would stop asking him what injury the eyepatch is for, and making remarks about how embarrassing it would be if it were totally pointless—King does not pay his adult self so much to put up with this shit. The baby Jack also needs to stop demanding to know if his adult minion self can pull a sled faster than a moose or something...
Jade and Floyd are attempting to wind up the adult Octo Dealer, trying to see how much they can get away with compared with the normal Azul. Octo Dealer is legitimately at a loss as to how this world’s Azul doesn’t keep them in line without letting them turn to a crime or two. Then he learns about Azul’s contract business and feels a pang of commiseration and understanding.
Poison Queen, Royal Flush, and Snake Charmer are unpleasantly shocked when their dorms address them by their respective secret identities in front of their fellow supervillains out of the blue.
Poison Queen has to put up with King’s uncontrolled laughter as he finally understands the full extent of the incident with White Neige so long ago, while Tsunotaro tries to tell him he liked Schoenheit in his role as the evil dragon prince in the GaoGao dramatization. Royal Flush is about two seconds away from throttling Octo Dealer if the bastard doesn’t stop trying to make a deal to guarantee his mother doesn’t learn about her son’s private activities. Snake Charmer’s just glad his civilian identity flies under the radar enough that Charon has to try and look him up to understand who he is (and fails because he’s not on school wifi and his cellular data is bust).
Poison Queen is also getting a headache from Rook rhapsodizing about how his villain form is another, enhanced mode of beauty he is fortunate to lay eyes upon, as if he hadn’t been willing to skewer Poison Queen along with the rest of the supervillains five minutes ago. He’s at least able to amuse himself by letting Epel run away with his speculations about how he’s the buff hyper-masculine muscle for Poison Queen.
Kalim is crying that Jamil had to resort to becoming a villain in his home world! He must be so sad if he has to do that! He’s mildly cheered up when Snake Charmer tells him they work together on schemes, and that Snake Charmer is actually reasonably happy with his chosen vocation—and then he begins panicking that Jamil will like that world so much, he won’t want to come back.
Royal Flush is glad his counterpart at least has good people around to look after him, even if it is odd to have young versions of Trey and Cater trying to mother hen him despite the fact that he’s the older one now. At least Ace and Deuce acting up seems more fitting now considering their age than it ever did on their adult selves.
Ace huffs a sigh and leans on Yuu’s shoulder. “This is a mess, huh Prefect?”
“You said it.” Yuu replies. “I just wanna sleep forever.”
The supervillains go still.
“I’m sorry,” Snake Charmer says carefully. “But isn’t Enma-san the Prefect?”
“No?” Yuuken replies, confused. “Yuu’s the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. I’m their vice— or would be, if we had any other students apart from them, me, and Grim.”
Octo Dealer laughs, sounding slightly strained. “Ah, apologies, but you see, that isn’t possible. It can’t be. Yuu isn’t—”
“But I am the prefect, Azul-senpai.” Yuu the Prefect says. “I’ve–I’ve always been the prefect.”
There’s a stunned silence.
Royal Flush places his head in his hands. “What the fuck.”
Back in the Supervillain AU universe, Yuu the Reporter sneezes sharply while trying to wrangle five frightened teenagers, one frightened-but-playing-tough twenty year old, and one confused however-old-he-is-but-younger-than-Tsunotaro fae.
They wonder what the chill down their spine is.
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sambvcks · 3 years
Text
redefined, b.b. x reader
Tumblr media
summary: just because those ten words no longer wreak havoc on his mind does not mean they are gone. just redefined.
warnings: mentions of food, blood, gunshot wound
word count: 3.7k....whoops
author’s note: first standalone! i’m also itching to work on a sam story next. the last episode still lives in my mind rent free and this is a reworking of that which diverges from civil war and we get one big happy avenging family that aren’t dead :)
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Longing
An Avenger.
The concept was still so foreign to Bucky, despite dozens of successful missions under his belt and a permanent residence in the tower. Still, every morning he sprung up in bed expecting to still be in some run-down apartment halfway across the world, on the run.
Instead, he would awake on a plush mattress that offered little back support. He would shuck on the first shirt his bleary eyes could see and pad into the hallway, the smell of fresh coffee overtaking his superhuman sense of smell. You would be perched at the kitchen counter, pouring over mission files stained with coffee rings that Tony would later complain about.
Steve and Sam would have already come through on their way to their morning run, the coffee pot running dangerously low. You’d already placed his favorite mug nearby, two packets of sugar emptied into the bottom. A routine.
Bucky didn’t think he’d ever have a routine again.
His hand would press against your shoulder in a familiar greeting as he passed, you’d grin up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy smile before returning to your work. Your cereal sat forgotten beside you, the overly sweetened kid’s choice growing soggy.
It was a silent and comfortable interaction. Neither worked to fill the quiet or felt the need to. Even with Steve, there was always talking and planning and ‘what about this’. With you, it was so natural to just exist how he was in that moment. No excuses, no whispered apologies.
He pushed his back against the sink as he sipped at his coffee, eyes immediately settling on your distracted figure. Your pajamas were wrinkled, mouth formed into a perfect concentrated from as you hunched uncomfortably, hand scribbling furiously. He swallowed and decided you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, especially with your coffee breath and fingernails chewed to nubs.
He wanted so desperately to move across the kitchen and press himself perfectly against you, to push aside your paperwork and demand your sole attention. His hand clenched into a fist as he longed to feel your soft, round cheeks in his hands, how warm you would feel against the cool metal of his left and how you’d nuzzle closer still.
He hadn’t heard the dragging footsteps of Steve and Sam returning from their run and didn’t even notice them until they were settled at the doorway, watching him watch you.
“Morning.” Steve grinned, all knowing. Bucky cleared his throat and refocused on his mug.
“Morning.” Bucky replied with a look that said ‘don’t say anything’.
Rusted
Bucky learned that if you weren’t cooped up in your room or camped out on the kitchen island, you were tucked away in Tony’s garage. On slow days where it seemed everyone was off in their own little world, Bucky would know to find you under the hood of one of Tony’s vintage cars, each kept in pristine condition, but you claimed that ‘there’s always something to work on’.
Bucky was never a car guy. His family was too poor to even think of ever owning his own car. He didn’t even have his own license and technically couldn’t legally ride his bike either. He found out quickly that being an Avenger meant the term legal could be bent a bit. So, he wasn’t a car guy. But the sight of you with streaks of grease across your face and your raggedy workshop clothes would have him buying one just to see you work on it.
You were notoriously protective of your little hideaway, the music loud and the sound of metal ringing as you fixed and fiddled with every little thing. Steve nearly got a wrench to the face when he tried to distract you from Tony’s antique Chevy.
Bucky was different, though. He was always different.
He would sit himself on a tall stool positioned next to one of Tony’s many rolling tool chests. You’d call out a tool and he’d rifle through the collection until he found what he thought was the right one and only slightly tease him when he’d emerge with the wrong one. Typically, you’d spend these afternoons in silence, the thumping of the heavy base of whatever crazy metal album you picked the only soundtrack to your work.
Sometimes, though, you’d play gentle rock music. Bucky would ask questions on what you were doing, how you learned to do all of this, why you did it when Tony worked on these cars enough for the both of you.
You’d fish your rag from your pocket, concentrating on scrubbing the grease from under your fingernails as you answered.
“I like using my hands. I like fixing things. For every car that Tony has in this garage, there are hundreds just like it sitting in junkyards gathering cobwebs and rust.” You looked up at him from under eyelashes and Bucky knew you were speaking about much more than just hunks of metal. “They’re worthy of love and care.”
You were talking about him, too.
Seventeen
Bucky didn’t think this superhero business would have so many parties. There seemed to be a celebration for everything. Galas, fundraisers, full on parades whenever Tony happened to wake up in a good mood.
At least this one is a holiday, he thought to himself as he nursed his third beer of the hour. Not that it did anything other than keep his hands occupied.
The year was coming to a close, and the top floor of the Avengers Tower was decked in golden confetti and banners to ensure no one forgot. The music was obnoxiously loud, and the lyrics made little sense, but everyone seemed to be having a good time mingling and even venturing to the dance floor.
No matter how many times Sam tried to drag him in with an invisible rope, Bucky was not going to dance. Well. Maybe he would if you asked.
The party had been in full swing for hours now, with only ten minutes until the ball a few blocks up finally dropped and he could sneak away to his room without a teasing ‘bedtime already, old timer?’ from Nat.
Still, the party raged on and he eyed the glass door to the balcony. He downed the last of his beer, brushing past enthusiastic partygoers with his shoulders hunched forward in some attempt to minimize the space he took up in the room that only seemed to be getting smaller. He caught Steve’s eye on the way out and plastered on a smile in response to his disappointed look.
He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as soon as the glass door slid closed behind him. His eyes closed as he leaned back against it, the chill of the December New York air blew his hair in every direction.
“Fancy meeting you here.” You were sat in the far corner, so well hidden he hadn’t even noticed you, though he had been on the lookout for you all night. “Tired of the festivities?”
“And Tony’s music.” He grumbled as he fell into the seat beside you.
“Been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, you made it a lot longer than I could’ve in there.”
You were waiting for him. You wanted him to be there, with you, tucked away from everyone else’s prying eyes. He wanted that, too. Sometimes he wanted it so much it scared him.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll. It’s not polite for a gentleman to make a girl wait.”
“Hmm, I think I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” Your shoulder pressed against his, eyes focused on the smattering of buildings surrounding you. Identical parties were happening in each of them, you were sure. “Can you believe another year is gone?”
“I can’t believe I’m about to make it to 2017 and my back hasn’t given out yet.”
You laughed, loud and unabashedly in a way only Bucky could make you laugh. Head thrown back and eyes glittering from the city lights, Bucky wanted to spend every new year you would allow him to by your side, trying his best to make you laugh again.
“Well,” You stood to peer over the glass railing, Bucky close behind you. You could hear the drunken cries inside as the countdown begun. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.” Bucky offered his hand to you. You took it easily.
5, 4, 3…
He wanted nothing more than to pull you close, to finally press a kiss on the lips that had thrown teasing remarks at him during missions. To once and for all end this little dance you both loved so much. But you looked so perfect.
Bucky wasn’t ready to ruin that perfection with everything wrong with him quite yet.
“Happy 2017, Bucky.” You whispered as the fireworks started, but Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes from you.
“Happy 2017, doll.”
Daybreak
The mission had been long and grueling. The week-long stakeout turned into two and quickly turned into a month away. You can’t remember the last time you’d had a good night of sleep that wasn’t interrupted with Bucky’s hand on your shoulder, telling you it was your turn to keep watch.
It wasn’t a horrible mission, more of an exercise in patience and restraint than anything. Bucky’s stories kept you entertained enough, and he was a good partner. Which is why you were paired together more often than not.
Still, it was nice to finally collapse into your familiar bed, not even bothering to kick of shoes or take a much-needed shower. Your sleeping schedule was all out of whack and you tossed and turned, despite the exhaustion seeping through your bones.
After fifteen minutes, you finally huffed a sigh of defeat and stumbled back to your feet. You showered, which was a few good days overdue, and dressed in your largest, most comfortable pajamas.
You weren’t surprised to see Bucky up as well, sitting at the dining table with a mug of fresh coffee.
“Couldn’t sleep?” His foot kicked out the seat beside him as an invitation.
“Sleeps overrated, anyways.” You shrugged, slumping into the seat and pressing your face into the cool glass of the table.
“Sleep is good for you.” He insisted, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that had curtained over your face. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”
“So do you, Buck.”
He stayed silent for a while, just sipping at his coffee and stealing glances at you, face trained out the floor to ceiling windows. He really didn’t know what he deserved, anymore. Sure, he had made some semblance of peace with what the Winter Soldier had done with his body. He was better, that was certain.
Worthy of you and all your unwavering sweetness? He wasn’t so sure.
You idly chatted about nothing for hours, filling comfortable silence with talks of the mission and the food poisoning he had given you when he tried to make dinner two weeks in. You sat side by side until day broke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sun peeking over skyscrapers and finally finding the need to fall shut in rest.
“I guess I should say ‘good morning’ instead of ‘good night’.” You were the first to stand, shuffling towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.
“Good morning.” He answered as you padded away, deciding he would be just fine losing sleep every night if it meant he could watch the sunrise by your side.
Furnace
“Doesn’t Tony make enough money to keep this place at least habitable?” You grumbled as you fell into the couch beside Bucky.
“I’m fine.”
Bucky sat in his patent jeans and t-shirt, unphased by the temperature that practically had your teeth chattering. You were bundled in multiple layers, including one of the many sweatshirts he’d wear jogging on cold mornings and blankets you had stolen off his bed. Your glare from under your cocoon of warmth rivaled even his.
“I’m not a muscle-y super soldier-”
“You think I’m muscle-y?”
“-that runs so hot you’re basically a personal furnace.”
“Oh, so now I’m hot.”
“I would strangle you to death right now, but I’m about to lose my fingers to hypothermia.” You burrowed further into your smattering of blankets with a violent chill running down your spine. Bucky simply rolled his eyes and marked the spot in the book he had been reading before you stormed in.
“C’mere.”
He balled up a fistful of one of your blankets, tugging you even closer to him. You opened your arms to allow for direct contact, sighing contently as your face pressed into his shoulder and legs tangled with his. You sighed contently as you welcomed his warmth, shimmying as close as you could get.
“Better?”
“The best.”
Nine
“Do you ever think what your life would be like? If you’d gotten to go home?”
Even a year ago, this question would have turned Bucky into a brooding mess. He would have delved into every little moment he had missed, every plan that had been turned upside down when he fell from that train all those years ago. But he was better now, more contemplative. He wouldn’t drown in the idea of what could have been because he knows what it’s like to be on the other side.
“I like to think I would’ve gone to college.”
“Really?”
“You calling me dumb, doll?”
“No! You’re the smartest person I know. I’m just picturing you at college. Carrying textbooks and wooing all the dames.” You fell into him at the thought, a fake swoon overtaking your face.
“I’d be too busy studying for dames.”
“Studying what?”
“I always liked math. Maybe engineering or something. Wanted to be a teacher before the draft.” He shrugged like the information was no big deal, but to you it was everything.
“Professor Barnes. Kind of sexy.”
“Oh, shut up.” But his words held no malice. Instead, he was grinning that cheeky grin that pulled his cheeks into perfect rosy apples and his eyes crinkled in joy. “I wanted to have ten kids.”
“Ten?!”
“So we’d be a dozen. My own little army of mini-Buckys to take over the world. Couple sets of twins, maybe. Definitely as many girls as I could manage.”
Of course Bucky would be a girl-dad. Playing dress-up for fake tea parties and scaring off boys when they’d come ‘round for first dates. You could imagine how he’d learn how to take care of their hair and plait intricate braids when they asked. He would make breakfast for the whole bunch, kiss his wife goodbye before escorting them to the bus stop and taking off for a day of teaching classes. Bucky would be an amazing father.
An amazing husband, too.
“I think ten may be pushing it, Barnes.”
Bucky pictured it, too. A little more modern than maybe the image you conjured up. Teaching was replaced with small missions. The gaggle of kids were smaller, and he wouldn’t have to kiss his wife goodbye. You’d be in the car next to him, headed to the tower for your morning briefings together.
“I’ll settle for nine.”
Benign
If you were to ask any New Yorker what they think the Avengers do on Friday afternoons, they would probably say something like ‘kicking ass!’. None would get even close to what your actual routine looked like.
None would imagine The Winter Soldier lounging in a bathrobe, hair knotted into a bun at the top of his head as his fellow world-saving Avenger spread some green goop over his face. Chinese takeout boxes littered the living room coffee table, his feet were bubbling in warm foot spa.
“To keep your youthful complexion!” You had promised him. He didn’t comment on the obvious sound of your phone’s camera clicking.
He knew he must have looked completely ridiculous. But as you sunk into the couch next to him with identical spa treatments covering you, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.
He never thought in a million years that he would have the chance of boring, completely benign afternoons. He thought he would be sidelined to violent missions for the rest of his life, to being thawed out like a microwave meal every time he was deemed useful. Sure, he felt a bit ridiculous when you reached over to adjust the slices of cucumber placed over his eyelids, but he also felt so relaxed.
As you settled even closer to him, head tilting to rest on his shoulder, he would happily take the teasing remarks from Sam when you showed him the pictures.
Homecoming
Peter wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting ready for his senior year homecoming dance at the tower. But Aunt May was upstate on vacation with Happy and he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.
“Oh, you look so handsome, Peter!” You gushed as your fingers worked on his tie. Bucky stood to the side, holding MJ’s corsage in a delicate plastic container. Peter had been careful to find the perfect color, with a little guidance from you. The white dahlias matched perfectly with Peter’s light green tie.
“Thanks, Ms. (Y/L/N).”
Peter, ever the polite kid.
“Be safe, kid. Have her home at a reasonable time and no wandering hands.” Bucky handed over the corsage with a supportive slap to Peter’s shoulder. He was quick to promise that he would follow all the rules before making a dash to the door, just as you were about to ask for pictures.
“Don’t wait up!” He called as the elevator dinged behind him.
“They grow up so fast.” You sniffled. “I didn’t even go to my homecoming dances.”
“Why not?”
“Nobody ever asked me.” You shrugged, collecting the other ties Peter had picked from and hanging them carefully over your arm. Tony didn’t have to know that Peter was taking one of his priceless Versace neckties to a homecoming dance.
“To be fair, I would’ve been scared shitless to ask you to a dance.” Bucky followed close behind. “And I fought a war.”
“That’s sweet, Buck.” You brushed him off as you retreated into Tony’s closet.
“No, really.” His hand caught your elbow. “I would’ve been the luckiest guy in town if I had you on my arm.”
You fell asleep that night imagining you and Bucky twirling around a dance hall without a care in the world.
One
Steve’s hand was firm against your shoulder, his tactical glove soaked and dripping with your blood. Your eyes were unfocused, head lulling every so often when the fight to keep it steady just seemed too difficult. Sam was at your other side, cracking jokes to try to keep your attention on him and not of the literal bullet lodged in your shoulder.
You were escorted from the jet in a flurry, doctor’s hands replacing Steve’s. You barely winced when you were administered painkillers and the ache begun to subside. Before you could blink, you were lifted onto a gurney in the medical bay and the clink of the bullet that had been dug from your flesh rang through the room as it clattered into a metal dish.
Bucky ran in just as the doctor finished maneuvering a long roll of gaze around your shoulder, scheduling a time for you to return to have it cleaned and reapplied again.
“What happened?” He brushed past the doctor without a second glance, eyes trained on your figure pressed against the sterile hospital bed. “Steve said-”
“It’s nothing. Steve likes to be dramatic.”
“-that you were shot!”
“Oh, well. Yeah, that happened.” You moved to sit up, your arm immediately giving out under the weight. Bucky moved even closer to help you, hand careful on your back like you were made of glass. “But just the one time.”
“As far as I’m concerned, one is too many.” He watched the gauze turn darker against your skin; your eyes screwed shut in pain as your knuckles turned white against the sheets. “And you’re never going on a mission without me again.”
Freight Car
“You’re free.”
He remembers those worlds so clearly, it’s like him and Ayo are still sat next to that crackling fire in Wakanda. He thought that had been it. He would never again worry about those ten phrases that erased Bucky Barnes and allowed a machine to emerge from his memory.
As he stole glances of you from the corner of his eye, shadowed by his unruly hair, he knew those words still very much existed in his mind.
They weren’t a means to an end, anymore. He didn’t have to grit his teeth and clench his fists to fight them off. They were new, now. He saw each of those words in you and realized just how important they are now they they’ve found a new meaning.
His love for you came easy.
One second, he was looking at his friend. She was looking back at him and he felt safe.
Your fingers brushed over his shoulder, where flesh turned to metal, and you looked away as though you hadn’t just made him fall in love with you with a single touch.
It took three years for Bucky to make a move. Another party, another escape plan to the balcony where you were waiting for him, like always. The last time you had found yourselves in that position, he had been too unsure. Too wary of what it would mean and if it was too soon.
Now, he didn’t care. He just wanted you and to be selfish and not think about consequences when he leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to yours.
You pulled back, but not far.
Something clicked.
Your love for him hit you like a freight car. Swooping in from nowhere but really, you should have felt the rattling of the tracks beneath your feet. You should have seen all the signs that you loved him and he loved you back. In stolen glances and easy afternoons, in hard missions and bloodshed. He was there, and he looked at you like that. Like everything his body had done was to finally make it to you in this moment.
He waited, patient. He had waited this long, what was another few seconds as the realization washed over your features?
“Oh.” Was your clever whisper.
“Yeah.” Bucky’s hands cradled your face, “Took you long enough.”
taglist: @bibliophilewednesday @teti-menchon0604​ @thiswasnevermylifefromtony​ @spid3rgwen​ @beautyandthebleh​ @victoriabaker112213​ @orthellqs @phasma-trash​
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xiao-cafe · 3 years
Text
drabble game — prompt 67
Tumblr media
pairing: diluc x gn!reader
prompt: “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”
tags: fluff, grumpy diluc, healer!reader
wc: 1.3k
notes: in the part with the chest i don’t mean like a female chest but like a normal human chest that’s up to your interpretation ^^ also thank you to @spoiledmoras​ for requesting this! i rushed the ending bc if i went on it would’ve become a full-fledged fic and im not ready for that kind of commitment
The moon hung high and bright in the sky as Diluc limped his way back to Mondstadt. With each step forward, the next step became harder as his legs threatened to give way beneath him.
It wasn’t like him to be injured so badly while protecting Mondstadt in the middle of the night but simple recklessness took a hold of him and he had rashly put himself in danger for the sake of intercepting a few Abyss Mages and the hordes of hilichurls they led.
Granted, his injury was merely a result of his rashness that led to him falling off the cliff after swinging his claymore too widely, making such a rookie mistake weighed heavily on him as he recalled why he had been so agitated in the first place.
Exhaling heavily, Diluc cast a withering glare at the steps leading up to the Cathedral. He had always been one up for some light exercise but his bones ached at the thought of dragging himself all the way up to get some medical help.
“I should’ve gone back to the Winery…” The red-headed man muttered to himself. He glanced back at the route he had taken, the gears spun in his head as he calculated his chances of making it back to the Winery before daybreak or even surviving the night.
But his thoughts were interrupted as you appeared before him, like an angel in the dark.
“Y/N.” He greeted smoothly as he attempted to stand up straighter. The sight of Mondstadt’s newest healer was a welcoming one for Diluc.
Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you observed Diluc looking dishevelled and nothing alike the refined gentleman he always appeared to be.
“Master Diluc.” You responded, eyes roving from his face to his feet. “You’re injured.” You gasped, pointing at his knees.
The man nodded quietly, refusing to explain any further.
One of the things Diluc disliked about you was your unnatural ability to pinpoint when something was up with a person. Your questioning gaze searched his face for answers but Diluc remained stone-faced as you guided him to the fountain by the plaza.
“I know this isn’t the most comfortable of places but I don’t think I could carry you all the way back to the Cathedral.” You said to the man as you helped him move into a seated position with his legs outstretched.
“It’s fine,” He answered, grimacing slightly as pain flared in his legs.
“Pardon me,” You whispered as you rolled up his pants, your face bore no emotion as you assessed the extent of his injuries. Your hands were cool to the touch as your fingers brushed against his skin lightly. As much as he’d hate to admit it, your touch calmed him down and the simmering rage that burned within him seemed to dissipate.
“You’ve been getting hurt more frequently as of late, is something on your mind?” You asked him, unaware that a pair of scarlet eyes were trying to burn a hole into your face for asking a simple question.
“It’s nothing.” Diluc answered stiffly, crossing his arms as he spoke.
The man wondered how much longer you’d take to fix him up and how many more intrusive questions would you ask during that time.
“You sure?”
Diluc sighed deeply, causing you to look up from your work in concern.
“I am. Fine.” He stated quietly, an underlying tone of anger laced his voice as he directed a steely glare at you.
Nevertheless, you were undisturbed by his grumpiness.
“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so.” You told him, a reassuring smile donned your lips as you continued, “Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.” 
Were you… giving him advice?
An unknown emotion erupted in Diluc‘s chest as he glared at you as you worked, your hands hovered above his wounds as you healed him with your powers.
“I have no need to disclose personal matters with you.” Diluc said, breaking the silence.
“I know.”
Diluc gritted his teeth, why would you ask if you had known in the first place?
“I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help,” You stated, answering his unspoken question.
“You’re always coming back to the city this late in the night, injured, and as someone who’s been healing you for the past few weeks I’ve just been feeling a little worried that’s all.”
It was true. Diluc knew he wasn’t being himself, throwing himself at monsters every chance he got. And the fact that you always happened to be around when he needed a healer was something he greatly appreciated. 
Perhaps he had been too harsh…
“Klee’s always saying that you never smile and I guess that’s true!” You laughed pointing at him.
Even without a mirror, Diluc knew exactly what you had meant and your laughter only served as oil to be added to the growing flames.
As time passed, the pressure on his brow lifted and the quiet anger quickly turned into approval (and a hint of admiration) while you finished up the healing process, unfurling his pant leg to signify that you were done.
“I’ve done as much as I could but you should definitely follow me to the Cathedral so you can receive proper treatment.” You stated, perspiration coated your forehead which you promptly wiped away with your sleeve.
“I’ll be fine on my own.” Diluc answered, refusing your outstretched hand in offer. 
“Oh, but I’ve only alleviated the pain, the injury is still-” Your words were interrupted as the red-haired man attempted to stand up, only to fall forward and into your arms.
You let out a yelp as Diluc’s weight sent the both of you crashing into the cobbled floors.
“Are you okay?!” Your voice was high as you lifted Diluc’s face from your chest.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t support your weight.” You blurted out and continued to apologize profusely even as Diluc lifted himself off of you with his arms and rolled over.
“Your face is red, do you have a fever!?” You pressed your palm to Diluc’s cheek, “You’re burning up!”
Diluc remained composed despite his flushed cheeks, his face felt warm and the way you touched him in such an unrestrained manner didn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, he wanted more.
You were a rambling mess as you fussed over him, checking his temperature and if his injury had worsened.
Diluc narrowed his eyes at you as he let you help him sit up, he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hold you. But he let you press your body next to his as his arm slung around your shoulders and you lifted him from the floor.
“Don’t worry, I’m prepared to support you this time!” You assured him, to which Diluc responded with a low unconvinced hum.
Yet, a hint of a smile was evident on his lips as you walked with him up the many stairs, until the both of you reached the Cathedral, out of breath.
“We’re… Here…” You panted, your legs complained with each step you took but you ignored the limits of your body and focused on getting Diluc some much needed medical help.
In truth, Diluc had already gotten used to the initial soreness in his legs. With the pain gone, he could still walk even though he was certain the bone within hasn’t mended but the man wasn’t about to tell you that.
In his eyes, you were strange, asked many invasive questions, yet you stirred something deep in his heart and he would rather compliment Kaeya than to say what was on his mind.
Even as you called for Barbara, you stayed by his side. Making sure he was comfortable and assisting Barbara whenever you could.
Although, the blush on his face still wouldn’t go away.
end.
end notes: this was also unedited bc its 1am and im sleepy lmao
390 notes · View notes
kiki-shortsnout · 3 years
Note
May I request frostiron Mpreg as a prompt? Thank you! 💜
Hey everyone! A few of you have asked if I'm still doing prompts. The answer is yes, but it does take me a while to write them, I do have a day job and restrictions on my time, plus I'm also working on my IronStrange Bigbang, so please be assured I will get to them all eventually, it will just take time! ❤️
Warnings for below: This is Alpha/Omega and contains Mpreg, just so everyone is aware! Also as it's me.....it's also much longer than I initially thought........
***
‘Sleepy,’ Tony groaned, flopping onto the couch and shoving his head in Loki’s lap. Weakly, he lifted his arms, attempting to bat Loki’s book away and have his full attention.
‘Tired, little Omega?’ Loki teased, his voice low as he closed his book and placed it down on the armrest. If anyone else had called him that, Tony would’ve torn a strip out of their hide, unleashing a verbal smackdown so powerful that it made even the toughest Alphas quake. As it was Loki, Tony accepted the words for what they were, a form of sarcastic affection.
Fingers tangled in his hair, and Tony all but purred at the attention, stretching his limbs out and melting into the couch beneath him, feeling safe in Loki’s hold.
Whatever this was between them, it was good. Loki had respected his boundaries ever since Tony had created the foundations of this…relationship. The Alpha had returned to Earth after his trial on Asgard, remorseful over his actions regarding the Battle of New York, but not quite able to apologize properly for it. The Avengers and SHIELD regarded him with hostility, despite knowing he had been held captive to a brainwashing scepter, waiting for the inevitable betrayal, but Tony had seen something different.
He had recognized something of himself in Loki. Tony knew how close he’d skirted the line of becoming a villain, how his choices in life could’ve been very different. He’d been drawn away from crossing that line many times by Pepper and Rhodey, but Loki didn’t have friends, struggled under different obligations, with only his mother believing he could be more.
Tony understood that all too well, a father that always saw reason to fault you, who always saw the worst in you, and a mother who believed in you.
Loki was one of the few Alphas who respected Tony for who he was, who seemed to enjoy the challenges and verbal sparring they had. He didn’t know if that was because of his Jotun heritage, or how Alphas were brought up on Asgard, but Tony had a sneaky feeling that secondary genders didn’t matter to someone who was neither Asgardian nor a Frost Giant, someone who was a bit of both, but not really either.
Just like Tony who had been raised to suppress his Omega characteristics, to overlap them with Alpha traits and now he was a paradox that didn’t fit into either category.
Like this now though, with Loki stroking through his hair, gazing down at him with fondness, Tony inhibited the sweet Omega form, happy to be close to an Alpha, breathing in his scent, the cold bite of snow that reminded Tony of cozy nights with his mother. They weren’t together, even if Tony had allowed Loki to share his heat a few months ago, one of the rare Alphas Tony had trusted to see him vulnerable in such a way.
‘Your scent…it’s different than usual,’ Loki said, his tone cautious.
This was one of the things Tony adored about Loki, his unwillingness to push him for more, understanding that he was terrified at the prospect of being bonded to an Alpha. He hadn’t morphed into an overbearing monster or become territorial after Tony’s heat, he still checked in and made sure he was comfortable.
Loki was the one Alpha he could see himself becoming bonded to, which made whatever they were doing bittersweet as Loki had also expressed concerns about not wanting to be ‘beholden to an Omega’s whims’ as he’d put it. It was beyond ironic, the one Alpha Tony trusted, the one he would consider for a mate held the same ideals about mating as he did.
Tony wasn’t going to dwell on it, he had a good, no strings attached thing here and he wasn’t going to ruin it.
‘Hmm? I haven’t been feeling well. Pepper says it’s stress, as if I haven’t been stressed every day of my life,’ Tony scoffed, lifting his head for more attention.
‘Do you…would you,’ Loki amended, ‘like my assistance with anything? I know I’m not always understanding of what it is you do but-’
‘Thanks, Lokes, but I’m alright honestly. It’s just board members giving me a rough time that’s all, things will ease off soon,’ Tony told him, opening his eyes and looking up into concerned ones. Loki couldn’t help his Alpha instincts, wanting to care and protect those he cared about, heightened by the fact they had shared a heat and a rut together.
Tony lifted his hand, cradling the side of Loki’s face, both in reassurance and so Loki could bend his head down and breathe in his scent from the gland in his wrist, grounding him. Lips dropped a delicate kiss over the gland, and as green eyes opened, Tony felt a lurch in the pit in his stomach and an irrational rage towards his past self.
Why did I put those boundaries in?
***
Tony ground his forehead into the cool desk, chafing the skin, his blinding headache doing nothing to drown out the words of the doctor ringing in his ears.
What was he going to do?
‘Boss, I think you need to take a break, this can’t be good for you, or the-’
‘Don’t, just don’t,’ Tony snapped, feeling his shoulders hunch, his teeth baring in a snarl. His arms came up to cover his head, protecting him from everything and anything. He needed Pepper, or Rhodey, he needed someone to tell him this was going to be okay, to go through his options.
‘Boss, Loki is requesting a visit,’ FRIDAY told him, making his stress levels skyrocket, his heartbeat increasing to match.
‘Tell him I’m busy.’ Tony jerked his head up, looking around the room. Loki wouldn’t teleport in here, that had been one of Tony’s very first rules, no invading his workshop unless invited. Pepper and Rhodey ignored it, but Loki abided by the rule, as did most of the Avengers.
‘I did. However, he has expressed concern regarding the changes in your behavior, the length of time between your last visit, and I really think-’
‘Alright!’ Tony held a hand up to stop her in her tirade, scrubbing his hands through his hair, thinking quickly. He couldn’t do this, he wanted space to think, to plan. It had been days since he’d gotten the news of his condition, and he’d come straight here, needing to work.
‘Let him in,’ Tony said, ‘and I’m sorry, for my shitty attitude, I’m just-’
‘Understandable Boss. No matter what your decision is, I will support you in any way I am able.’
‘I know, honey, thank you,’ Tony breathed out, trying not to cry, knowing Loki would be able to smell it.
‘Are you well, Anthony? It has been longer than normal since the last time I have seen you and I know the idiots you call teammates share my concern,’ Loki asked, stepping forward with narrowed eyes, trying to scent the air without being obvious about it.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Loki, just been distracted with something,’ Tony told him, gesturing with his hand at the schematics in the holographic display behind him.
‘You’re distressed,’ Loki informed him.
‘Damn Alpha nose,’ Tony hissed, turning in his chair to look back at his holograms.
‘It has nothing to do with your scent,’ Loki told him, turning his chair back the other way and bending down so they were eye level. ‘What is wrong, darling?’ he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tony’s eyebrow, trailing down to circle around his eye. ‘You are close to weeping.’
‘I can’t fix the suit,’ Tony answered. It wasn’t a lie, not really.
Loki’s gaze flickered up, taking in Tony’s designs. ‘Is there a weakness in the stomach plating? You’re focusing much of your calculations on that area,’ he asked.
‘It’s the most vulnerable area,’ Tony answered, subconsciously resting his hands over his stomach and then quickly moving them down to his thighs, gripping his jeans.
‘Anthony, your armor is impenetrable, I would know,’ Loki tried to change the tone of their conversation, making a lighthearted jab about their fight months ago.
Tony looked up at the schematics, knowing that no matter the tinkering, the redesigning of the suit, nothing he did would protect the life growing inside him. It was too dangerous, the number of times he got flung across the battlefield, the energy beams, the alien technology, the stress on his body.
He couldn’t be Iron Man anymore. Not like this.
‘Anthony, you need to breathe, listen to me,’ Loki’s voice faded in and out. Nails suddenly tightened on his knees giving him a focus point, his lungs suddenly remembering how to inhale air. ‘That’s it, one breath in, hold it, now release,’ Loki instructed, his scent wrapping around him, forming a protective bubble amidst all the panic, holding him steady.
If I can’t be Iron Man, if I can’t be an Avenger, then what am I? What use am I?
‘Anthony…Tony, darling, you need to breathe. You are safe, I will protect you from everything,’ Loki swore, his gaze turning brittle as he watched him, his lips drawing back from his teeth as he readied himself for battle.
‘I can’t do this,’ Tony blurted, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake.
‘Anthony, you are the strongest Ome…the strongest person I know. There is nothing you cannot do. Know that I will stand beside you, fighting your demons alongside you, you are not alone.’
Beside you. Not for you. Even now with his instincts going haywire, Loki’s scent curdling in the air, becoming so sour with his rage, he was still respecting Tony’s wishes.
Tony flung his arms around Loki’s neck, clutching him close, burrowing his head into his unbroken bonding gland, even as his nose wrinkled against the foul odor, the aroma thick on his tongue, choking him. Loki held him close, rubbing his jaw the best he could over his head, scenting him in a rare act of claiming, warning others away that Tony usually would’ve balked at.
Instead, he tried to get closer, sending Loki to his ass on the floor as he scrambled onto his lap, his hands fisting into Loki’s tunic top, wanting the warmth and reassurance of the Alpha. Loki allowed him to take whatever comfort he wanted, drawing his legs up so his knees bracketed Tony’s body, his arms in a loose hug around his back.
He felt himself blinking back tears, the agony in his heart ingrained in the very tissues of his muscle, aching with every beat. Had Loki ever wanted more from him? He’d never asked, taking Loki’s word for it months ago that he too didn’t want to be tied down. They’d never spoken about anything changing, and Tony wasn’t certain Loki even wanted him in a long term sense, if he would eventually go home and find a royal Omega.
The thoughts made him shake in Loki’s hold, and even the deep crooning rumbling in the Alpha’s chest couldn’t calm him, the frantic thoughts of his mind more powerful than biological instincts.
‘Listen to me, I do not say this as an Alpha to an Omega. I know the boundaries you have set, will abide by them always, but I hope as one friend to another you will speak to me about what is ailing you,’ Loki encouraged.
‘I can’t,’ Tony whimpered.
He needed to sort this out alone.
***
He’d always scoffed at all of the insipid dramas Pepper had made him watch, the misunderstandings unfolding between two characters, arguments and heartbreak that could have easily been resolved with a mature conversation, sometimes even a word.
I’m pregnant.
They weren’t even difficult words to say, but Tony was suffocating under the weight of them, what they meant to him, to Loki, their future, his future.
Tony stood at the edge of the room, on the fringes of things where he was most comfortable. The charity event was in full swing around him, people in their finest clothes dancing, swirls of colorful silk and chiffon, the dark suits of the men a gorgeous contrast. The atmosphere was bubbly, light and frothy like the champagne they drunk, and Tony was the dark cloud, sucking up the positive emotions and radiating a toxic miasma in return.
Pepper suspected something was wrong too. Betas didn’t have the sense of smell Alphas had, but she knew him better than anyone, knew he was hiding something, and he knew he didn’t have long before she backed him into a corner.
He didn’t want to deal with the issue at hand, had started ignoring it, convincing himself that it would go away if he didn’t think about it. Even as he started being sick, the constant exhaustion now plaguing him, he turned a blind eye to it all, cutting himself off from everyone. The Avengers hadn’t noticed, used to Tony becoming obsessed with projects and cutting them off for weeks at a time.
Loki had though, Tony could feel his gaze boring into his back at the shared common room in the tower, the questions burning on his tongue when Tony refused to suit up as Iron Man. Even as Steve and Tony argued about his cowardice, Fury’s threats to take him from the team, he hadn’t said or done anything, leaving Tony to fight his own battles unless he was called for.
No matter how desperately Tony had wanted the Alpha…his Alpha beside him, he couldn’t say anything. Looking down at the untouched champagne glass in his hand, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea of becoming a parent, but understanding he’d been thinking of Loki of his Alpha for some time had been a simple realization.
Looking up through all the crowds of people here for the charity event he was supposed to be hosting, Tony found Loki easily. The Alpha was staring at him, hurt lurking in his gaze before he was quickly able to mask it, offering Tony a well-rehearsed smile, one he himself wore at events like this. Loki’s gaze went down to the still full glass in Tony’s grip, lifting his own and tapping the side of it, asking if he wanted something else.
Shaking his head, he turned away from Loki, forcing himself into conversation with one of the sponsors, nodding in greeting as Thor walked past with Bruce, both talking happily with a crowd of fans following.
He felt like an imposter, knowing he was meant to be part of a team. This…condition would change all that, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, forced into a desk position, watching on the sidelines. That wasn’t him, he wanted to protect the Earth.
I am Iron Man.
Smashing glass caught his attention, an ominous hush settling over everyone at the party, guests drawing away from Loki, revealing him to be the culprit of the damage. His fingers were still poised from where he’d been holding a glass, his eyes huge as he stared down at a woman.
A very pregnant, Omega woman.
Shit.
Tony thrust his glass into someone’s hand, trying to escape while there were people forming a barrier between them, fear clawing its way over his body, seizing him in its clutches as he tried to escape. Others turned to help him as they caught scent of his terror, some thinking a villain had shown up as he started to barge pass, trying to make a run for it.
He smacked into Loki’s chest, the lingering magic shimmering in the air revealing he’d teleported himself straight in his path.
‘I think not, Stark,’ Loki hissed, teleporting them both.
***
Despite the rage oozing from Loki’s body, he still made sure Tony had regained his footing after teleporting before he thrust him away, trying to put space between them both, magic crackling in his palms and snaking down his arms.
Tony staggered over to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate Loki the fact had teleported them somewhere he viewed safe. His bedroom was a sanctuary that few had access to, the one place he could nest without judgement, where he had his heats without fear for his safety, knowing that only FRIDAY could override the security locks on his door.
He wrapped his blanket around his knees, subconsciously guarding the life growing inside him as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. Hidden within it was a prototype gauntlet, and he knew Loki knew that, saw the way his gaze went to it even as Tony slid his hand into it, ready to fight.
‘Did you not think I would find out?’ Loki growled, holding his ground, trying not to threaten a pregnant Omega, but ensnared by the potent mix of rage and hurt. ‘Did you think you could conceal it from me forever, ashamed of me and my heritage? Or did you think I planned this for you somehow, trapping you as mine, the one thing you did not wish for!’
‘That isn’t it, Loki,’ Tony protested.
‘Then what, Stark? Tell me before my patience wears thin!’ Loki demanded.
The second use of his surname stung. He’d grown used to the way Loki said Anthony with reverence, the loving way he used darling sparingly, muttering it against his skin when he’d been exhausted from his heat, or when it was used when he sought affection from the Alpha.
‘I didn’t know how,’ Tony pleaded.
‘How to say you were carrying my child… or how to say you wish you weren’t?’
‘That isn’t it Loki! I’m scared damn it!’ Tony shouted, flinging the pillow to the floor, his gauntlet powering up as he pointed it at Loki. He was reacting to the Alpha’s rage, refusing to ever be powerless to an Alpha ever again. Never would he succumb to an Alphas manipulation that he was worthless because of his secondary gender like his father had taught him. Never would he be vulnerable to an Alphas pride, watching as someone he considered family tore his literal heart from his chest, leaving him for dead.
‘This isn’t about you! It was never about you!’ Tony shouted, standing up on the bed, refusing to have the lower ground. ‘I’m going to lose everything! Iron Man, the Avengers! I don’t know how to raise a child! I don’t want my life to change!’ Tony growled, every bit as terrifying as an Alpha.
That was partly the truth. Tony had a soft spot for children, always had done, but that hadn’t meant he wanted one of his own. These writhing, conflicted emotions he had were proof of it. This wasn’t what pregnancy was meant to be like, it was meant to be gender reveal parties and crying over baby booties, ecstatic would be parents falling into each other’s arms as they sobbed.
Not a twisted, broken Omega who didn’t know how to be a parent.
‘Loki…if I can’t even be happy I’m pregnant how am I going to be a parent? I’ll destroy them, just like my father destroyed me,’ Tony croaked, his hand falling to his side, his bare hand going to his stomach, finally acknowledging the life inside him.
‘Anthony, you’re in shock, I think you’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Children are a wonderful-’
‘You don’t even want me! Why would you want this?’ Tony spat, lifting his gauntlet up again, aiming it at Loki’s chest.
‘Anthony, of course I want you. I have wanted nothing else but you since I began living here on Midgard. You honestly think I care for the Avengers, for dancing the steps SHIELD set out for me? I came to repair the damage with my brother, but I stayed because you were here. A gorgeous, spitfire Omega who stands strong against any Alpha, who ignores his instincts and decides what he wants out of life.’
Loki took a daring step forward, the anger gone from his posture, his hands held out in front of his chest, his posture meek, unthreatening.
‘An Omega I would have bonded long ago had I not seen how deep the scars life had left upon his soul, how terrified he was of commitment. Anthony Stark, I would have you stand beside me for the rest of your days, longer if you would accept me.’
‘Don’t,’ Tony choked out, his voice thick with tears, his legs struggling to hold him up.
Loki continued walking, lifting his head back, baring his neck in a vulnerable gesture, showing Tony he was in control.
‘I moved slowly because I did not want to scare you. No matter how much I yearned for you, how much I coveted you as a mate, I restrained my intentions because I wanted you, Anthony. I care not about your gender, either of them, I want you, because of you.’
‘What if I hurt them? What if they end up hating me? What if I can’t do it?’ Every ugly thought he had, every insecurity came flying out and he hated himself for it. Who was he thinking about? Himself? Or the child inside him?
‘Anthony, you are not alone in this. Even if you do not wish for me to be your bonded Alpha that will not stop me supporting you, or our child.’
Tony whined, a high pitched noise of distress and Loki was before him in an instant, embracing and scenting him to calm him.
‘This,’ Loki reached out, his hand huge on Tony’s abdomen. ‘This means more to me than I can express in words, that I found an Omega I could love, that he would bless me with such a gift. Do not think I do not want you, nor or child.’
‘I do want you,’ Tony told him. ‘I haven’t been able to tell you, I thought you-’
‘Hush, Anthony. You know the truth now. Now all that needs to be said is where we go from here.’
‘Iron Man, the team-’
‘Will all be waiting for you after the child is born,’ Loki promised. ‘I will guard Midgard for you in your stead, I swear it.’
‘What about-’
‘The fact that you already worry about such a thing reassures me that you will be a wonderful parent. You have taken great pains to reassure me over the past months that I am more than the sum of my parts, and now I speak the same wise words to you. You are not your father, Anthony, and I am not mine,’ he whispered, bending down to swipe away the furious tears building.
Tony surged forwards, kissing Loki, their tears mingling on their lips, sealing them together. Loki attempted to laugh as he pulled away, kissing Tony’s cheekbone.
‘I love you, Anthony. May I please have the honor of courting you?’
‘I love you too, Loki and only if that involves lots of presents,’ Tony tried to joke, his tears still falling.
‘Of course, only the best for my demanding Omega. We shall speak of our…unexpected gift at another time, but for now I believe it is best we rest. You’ve had me worried for weeks and unable to sleep,’ Loki told him, encouraging him back down towards the bed, scooping the blankets around Tony in a haphazard nest, not hiding his impulses now he knew of his feelings.
‘You really think I can do this, that we can do this?’ Tony asked as he settled down against Loki’s side, all the exhaustion he’d been struggling with making itself known.
‘I do not believe it will be free of challenges, but I am not lying to you when I say there are few beings in this universe I could love, fewer still that I would entrust to bear my child,’ Loki whispered down to him, hand splaying over his stomach. ‘Sleep, darling, we will talk more in the morning.’
Shoving aside any rampant thoughts in his mind, for positive reasons this time, Tony allowed his fingers to lace through Loki’s on his stomach, turning his gaze inwards, wondering who was inside there.
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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years
Text
Out of Character (Rafe Cameron)
Warnings: Violence, sexual content (on the milder side - it's going to be full send soon, friends), swearing.
Author's Note: Only original character's and story lines are of my own. I do not own the character's related to the Outer Banks series, nor the actors.
*This will also NOT be linear with the show. So don't be upset.
It would be referred to as the Red Night. Her dress was red, as was the sky as the day held on for a few more hours.
Then his knuckles turned red. His face oozed with blood as it dripped into the clear waters of the shore. His eyes wild and bloodshot as he doled out the punches one by one.
"Rafe! Rafe, stop!" Her voice sounded like it was miles down the shoreline when she was actually three steps behind him.
"TOPPER, DO SOMETHING!" She screamed as she pulled at his best friend's shirt, everyone else watched in shock.
The shorter, but equally as strong boy grabbed his friend by his shoulders and pulled him off the tall blonde. He whispered something into the taller boys ear as they stepped back.
"Lucky my girl is here, man." Rafe grumbled as he spit blood into the ocean water as he glanced from the Pogue to his petrified girlfriend.
"Which one?" JJ Maybank grinned through the pain in his jaw as he pulled himself up from the water.
"Fuck you! Pogue scum." Rafe spat as he lunged towards the boy again.
"Ah! Not so fast." The Maybank boy replied as he quickly pulled a gun from the waistband of his shorts and pointed it at the group of Kooks.
"JJ, what the fuck are you doing?" She asked as she held her hands in front of her.
"Gemma, come and stand behind me." JJ ordered, his eyes as wild as his cocaine fueled Kook counterpart.
"Gem, don't you fucking dare." Rafe growled from deep in his chest as he grabbed her elbow with his bloody hand.
It was like the Wild West. A stand off after a brawl. Two men at odds with one another. The drugs, the alcohol. And now a gun.
"Gemma, come here. I will take you home." Topper Thornton spoke softly, his voice permeated the tense scene.
All sides watched to see what the girl would do. Stand behind the rogue Maybank boy while he wielded a pistol? Or stay with the wild eyed Rafe Cameron? Who would no doubt drive them home coked out and drunk.
The brunette took small steps away from the standoff and walked towards the boy with the bleached blonde hair. She looked between the dueling boys one more time before before she took Topper's outstretched hand and let him lead her away.
"Topp?" She asked softly as she held onto his strong bicep as they walked quietly up the beach to his Jeep.
"Yeah, Gem?" He asked, both hands in his pockets. He knew better than to put his hands on Rafe Cameron's girl.
" Can I stay with you tonight? She asked with a sniffle. Topper had not stopped to realize how traumatic the situation they had just witnessed had truly been for the girl in the middle of it.
"Yeah, of course." Topper nodded as he helped her into the front seat of his Jeep.
The night was far from over after leaving the Boneyard, although a lot of the parties involved wished it was. An hour after the majority of the teens dispersed, Rafe Cameron was left alone on the shore with nothing but his high, his thoughts, a half bottle of vodka, and her voicemail.
"Gemma, this isn't funny. Pick up." He growled into his phone before he took a swig of vodka. He hung up and tried her number again, only to roar with frustration when it went straight to voicemail again.
"ANSWER ME!"
Hi, it's Gemma Mercer. I'm probably on the beach or working at the country club. Leave me a message. Bye!
"Baby, I'm sorry. Please, you have to call me back. Just let me know that you got home okay." He slurred as his vision got blurry, but the redial button was habitual at this point.
"Just don't fuck him , okay? Not Topper." He grumbled as his head nodded forward and his chin touched his chest. He wanted to sleep on the beach tonight, but not alone.
Rafe woke up a few hours into the night ready for another hit, angry and deep down he was worried about his girl. He checked his phone with what little battery it had and saw the message from her.
At Topper's tonight. I'm ok.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Topper whisper yelled as he came running out of the driveway to meet his still very drunk friend.
Rafe spat the thick blood that remained in his mouth into the ocean before he stood up and trudged through the sand towards his Jeep.
Rafe peeled into Topper's driveway as he laid on the horn for a solid five seconds before he got out.
"Where is she? Why is she here?"Rafe asked as he looked around the property. His mind raced with accusations that maybe she was cheating like he had before.
"She wanted to be. That was fucking scary, bro." Topper replied as he looked Rafe up and down. He was covered in dried blood from his nose down to the hem of his Polo.
"Well, I didn't pull a Wesson on everyone" Rafe muttered as he lit up a cigarette."
"You started the fight with that Maybank kid. You guys looked like one of you was gonna leave in a body bag, man."
Rafe shrugged. He had found the perfect place to assert his dominance over JJ Maybank, and he used it. Maybank looked at Gemma too much, talked to her too much. And Rafe didn't like that.
"Rafe." Her voice came from behind Topper. Rafe looked behind his friend and saw her there inn one of Topper's shirt. His blood boiled and his mind raced.
"It's not like that, Rafe. She needed something wear after the party that wasn't her dress. I ...I gave her some clothes. Nothing happened." Topper stuttered as he looked between the sleepy Gemma, and the rage filled Rafe.
"Yeah? Well, next time my girl asks you to take her home, don't take her back to your bed and get your into your fucking clothes." Rafe seethed before he brushed passed his friend to walk to Gemma.
"Baby, I'm so fucking sorry. Please, come back with me. I'm sorry about the fight with Maybank, and the coke. All of it. I don't want to be alone tonight." Rafe pleaded as he stood on the ground and looked up and the small woman on the porch.
He hated seeing her in Topper's clothes. It gave him heinous images of Topper and Gemma together that made him sick.
"You did a dumb thing, Rafe Cameron." She stated, her arms across her chest. She looked him up then down. Rafe felt like she looked right through him.
"I know. I fucked up. Baby, please just get in the Jeep." Rafe begged. He felt his high begin to dwindle. All he wanted was his bed, his girl and total darkness.
It had always been hard for Gemma Mercer to say "no" to Rafe Cameron. From the first beer he handed her a house party, to the first time he pulled her panties down her legs. Gemma had a difficult time using judgement with Rafe.
"Fine. You have serious making up to do, Cameron." She replied as she walked down the steps towards Rafe's still idling Jeep.
"Whatever my baby wants." Rafe muttered under his breath so Topper didn't hear as they walked by. Rafe got in the car and peeled out as fast as he pulled in , leaving Topper Thornton in a daze.
Back at Tannyhill Rafe silently pulled Topper's clothes off of Gemma, and made silent vow to burn them at the next Boneyard party. He nudged her bare backside towards his bed, speaking a soft "go" before he took of his bloody shirt and pants. He quietly moved to his en-suite bathroom to wash the blood from his face before he climbed into bed with her.
"You know that Maybank was just talking shit tonight. You're my girl. My only girl." Rafe muttered as he pulled her close.
"I know, Rafe." She whispered into his chest, an arm around his thick torso.
"Do you?" He asked firmly as he pulled back to look at her.
"Yeah, baby. I know I'm your girl, and JJ only said that to get under your skin. Which worked. If I wasn't your girl then why would I be your date to Midsummer?" She smiled as she rolled over to straddle his hips.
Rafe groaned as he held onto her bare hips. "Don't start something you can't finish."
"I always finish." She grinned as she placed her hands on his chest, her hips raised a little to never give him the satisfaction of her heat.
"Fucking right you do." Rafe growled as he dug the pads of his fingertips into her hips to pull her down to his lap completed. He sat up and covered her gasp with his mouth.
"Please." She whispered against his lips as he rocked her hips back and forth on top of him. Her hands weaved themselves into his now messy hair and pulled, desperate for his attention.
"I kinda like this." Rafe smirked as he held onto her hips, his eyes on her mouth as she chased his lips.
" Baby, please!" She whined out loud before Rafe slapped a hand over her mouth. He knocked the tiny brunette onto her back and laid between her legs.
"Desperate for me tonight, huh? Poor Topper. Missed out on the ride of his life with you." Rafe growled as he kept one hand over his lover's mouth and the other ran down her stomach to between her legs.
Gemma glared at him over his fingers, both for the Topper comment and for his fingers barely touching her. She wiggled her hips to get closer to either of his appendages, but Rafe pulled away.
"Be a good girl." Rafe growled in her ear as his middle finger found it's way inside of her. She gasped into his hand, and Rafe's stomach dropped. No drug was like her and the way she reacted to him.
Gemma flipped the switch on him as her her hands that gripped his biceps reached down to his manhood for the gentlest squeeze.
"Ah! Fuck you, Gemma." Rafe hissed as he thrust into her grip and released his hand from her mouth.
She gave him eyes that sparkled and he knew that she was nothing like the girl everyone else saw. She wasn't the good girl who served his parents margaritas after 18 holes of golf.
Rafe knew she was more than an ironed Polo and a nice smile. She was vodka straight from the bottle. A short red dress with no underwear on at a house party full of Kooks. She was driving too fast down The Cut with her head out of his sunroof, flashing passersby , before she climbed back in and let him have his way with her in back seat.
Gemma Mercer was Rafe Cameron's girl. And he would never let her, or anyone else forget it.
*Thank you for reading the first part of my Rafe Cameron fic. Please let me know what you think, like it, message me. What have you. I'm looking forward to chatting with you OBX cuties :) More to come if it is received well.
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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years
Text
Tricksters
Summary: On a hot day, you decide to take a dip at a local secluded lake. When Arthur comes to join you, the two of you begin to have an interesting conversation before an untimely interruption.
Warnings: Swearing. nudity, and smut. Ya know, the norm.
Word Count: 7411
A/N: This is the first place prize from my 2k followers giveway! As requested by @lindleyjo​, she wanted a creative way of how reader interacts with a younger Arthur.
Support your local content creators and reblog!
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Heat.
A sweltering, heavy blanket of humidity settled upon the land after a powerful thunderstorm raged through the previous night. Everyone within camp had slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning in a desperate attempt to shake the crushing atmosphere. If you weren’t out in the open, you yourself would have stripped naked just to have a few hours of peaceful slumber.
With the morning sun peeking over the horizon, the camp’s sleepy members arose and began with the morning chores and duties. After getting dressed you wandered out into the open, observing your surroundings. Some of the women were already working on chores, scrubbing shirts or washing dishes from the night before with Susan Grimshaw at the helm. You paused once you saw her, knowing full well she’d put you to work the moment she realized you had nothing better to do.
You turned heel in the wet grass, hurrying toward the opposite side of camp in hopes to look busy. Toward the edge of camp were a few bags of feed strewn about, and a perfect way to keep yourself from Susan’s radar. You bent over to pick one up, nearly buckling as its awkward weight shifted upon you. Still, you’d managed to place it over your shoulder.
Just as you began to step forward, you heard someone call your name.
The feed sack blocked your view, though you recognized that voice instantly. Arthur Morgan. A young and otherwise cocky gang member and a favorite among Dutch and Hosea. Shuffling your feet to face him, he appeared in your view quicker than you’d expected.
“You, uh, need help with that?” he asked with a somewhat sheepish tone.
You smiled at him. He was always offering to help you with heftier tasks, even though you’ve told him multiple times you could handle it quite well. As boisterous as he was, he was always polite with you and the other women of the camp. Sometimes it seemed as if he gave you a little more attention, unless it was just your imagination. “I’ve got it, Arthur,” you assured him, shifting yet again as the feed inside began to weigh down uncomfortably. “Thank you.”
“Thought you’d say that,” he responded with a soft chuckle, bending down to grab another. “Thought I’d offer anyway.”
“I know,” you giggled, walking around the edge of camp to where the horses rested. “Truth is, I’m just avoiding being a wash maid today. Too hot for that.”
“So you opted for heavy liftin’,” Arthur remarked, stepping by you to place his bag upon a hay bale. The horses nickered excitedly at their arrival. “Don’t seem like it’d be any cooler.”
“As long as I look busy, then Susan won’t put me to work.” You pointed out, dumping your feed bag alongside his.
Arthur dusted his hands and snickered. “’S'pose that’s fair.”
You straightened up, catching his eye briefly. The summer sun reflected in his bright blue eyes, layering a golden hue amongst the oceanic orbs. He averted his gaze once it lasted a second too long. “Er, need anything else?”
You opened your mouth, only to be interrupted by someone calling Arthur’s name. It was Dutch Van der Linde himself. The two of you turned toward his gruff voice, noting the gang leader standing by his tent, standing casually with a lit cigar resting between his lips. Hosea stood next to him, looking on expectantly.
Arthur turned to look at you again. “Never mind, duty calls. See you later?”
Giving him a short nod, you bid him goodbye while he stalked off to join the two men. They were too far away for you to listen to their conversation properly, yet you caught wind Dutch had some grand scheme planned that required Arthur’s hand. A bank or stage coach robbery perhaps. You considered volunteering yourself to come along, the thought of big money was enough of an incentive to take your mind off the heat.
“Hey! Can I come along?” a new voice tore through your thoughts. High-pitched and gritty with the transition to manhood. You watched as John Marston came galloping up to the three men.
Dutch gave a hearty chuckle and reached out to ruffle John’s mop of hair. “Sorry son, just us three.”
“You’ll come along for the next one,” Hosea promised as John opened his mouth to protest. “It’s a small job, we don’t need an extra bodyguard.”
Arthur’s lips moved, most likely mumbling to himself. Whatever he said however, John’s face turned indignant. His body tensed like a predator about to spring on its prey. Hosea stepped in between the two immediately.
“Easy now,” he said with amusement, although gave Arthur a stern glare. “Don’t tease him, Arthur.”
Arthur only rolled his eyes and folded his arms. Since John had been brought in by Dutch and Hosea a few years ago, he and Arthur have almost always been at odds. Both headstrong in their own ways, they acted more like brothers; even when Arthur adamantly denied it. John was still young and immature, thus he’d stay in camp more often than not. He huffed and stormed off, grumbling to himself while Arthur just watched with a smirk on his face.
The three of them took their leave shortly after, saddling and mounting their horses before galloping away. You watched as they disappeared from view, sighing and turning to face camp once again. It was tempting to jump onto your own horse and follow; a wishful thought.
“Y/N!” Susan’s sharp voice pierced the air. “Get your butt over here and pick up a dish rag!”
You stifled a groan, knowing you were standing idle for just a little too long from your own volition. Before Susan could come over and ream your ass, you headed over and picked up an unused rag to help the others.
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After a good hour of washing dishes and mending holes in jeans, you were free. You straightened up, stretching out your aching back and cracking your stiffened hands. Sweat pooled in uncomfortable places, soaking through awkward parts of your garments. Wiping a layer of sweat from your brow, you needed relief.
Stepping into the shade of the tree line, you breathed out a sigh. Though still humid, being away from direct sunlight certainly helped. Getting away also prevented Grimshaw from finding even more work for you to do. You leaned against a trunk and fanned yourself, wishing nothing more than to dip yourself in some cold water right now.
You paused, remembering there was a lake not too far away. You’d ridden by it a handful of times, saw a fisherman once or twice. Perhaps the heat was enough to drive away any unwanted eyes. With a plan in mind, you headed back to get your horse.
The woods provided some relief to your otherwise overheated state. Thick leaves and multiple branches allowed some cover from the sun. As you trotted along a small path, a slight breeze carried through, rustling the dense green shrubbery and provided a cooling sensation to your exposed skin. The lake wasn’t too far now, and you urged your horse into a lope in impatience. Up ahead, the canopy broke away to reveal a sheet of water gently disturbed by another breeze. Glimmering beautifully under the bright sun, the surface appeared inviting. The hard packed soil and bushes soon turned into a sandy beach. Gently pulling your mare to a halt, you dismounted and stepped onto the softly shifting terrain. Your gaze scanned the circumference of the lake, only stopping to find you were alone.
Perfect.
You tied your steed to a nearby tree before eagerly shedding your clothes. You made a home for them on the rocks to dry out the sweat before you padded toward the shore. Gentle waves lapped up toward you, kissing your toes with a near frosty sensation. One foot in front of another with a slow step, you were soon embraced from the waist up. The dramatic temperature difference was almost shocking at first, fine hairs raising along your skin. It only took a moment for your body to adjust, and you sunk in further. Wrapped in the soothing cold, you reached your arms out and began to swim.
A few minutes passed by of you lazily floating through the calm waters, relaxed and uncaring of the rest of the world. You were perfectly content in that moment, free of gritty chores and the judgmental or curious eyes of others. You could spend the entire day out here, as long as no one else would ruin your peace.
Time soon became lost to you amongst the calm surface, though you couldn’t care less. Being out here was much better than drowning in your own sweat back at camp.
A thought crossed your mind. You wondered if Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea returned from their heist, and if it went successfully. Your curiosity almost had you swimming to shore to find out.
Yet with the sun still high and the sky and the air still stifling, you didn’t want to move. You’d find out later anyway.
Amongst the distant sounds of nature, you caught the shrill whinny of your mare. You immediately turned your attention to her, the horse’s head high and ears pricked forward, facing the forest. She nickered into the trees. Something had caught her attention.
Seconds later, you could hear a responding whinny, further away and still out of sight. Your heart lurched and you ducked low, keeping your eyes an inch above the water to watch. With your gun and knife still on shore, you had no way to defend yourself.
Movement in the trees formed itself into a horse and its rider, stepping from the shady canopy into the open. It were as if the Gods heard your thoughts. The beautiful coat shimmering in the sunlight belonged to Boadicea, and Arthur’s prominent face hidden under the brim of his hat. The two mares nickered to each other in greeting.
Relief flooded through you as you watched Arthur look at your horse, then glance left and right in confusion. You had to make yourself known now, lest he thought you were in trouble or worse. He hadn’t spotted your clothes yet. Despite your nudity, it didn’t bother you to be this way in his presence. With how long you’ve been a part of the gang, you’ve been around him in your undergarments multiple times. You were comfortable enough around him to know he wouldn’t attempt anything crass.
Pulling yourself up to just above chest level, you called out, “Arthur!”
His head shot up to the sound of your voice. “Y/N? Whatchoo doin’ out here?”
“Cooling off,” you responded, swimming closer to him. “What about you?”
The closer you got, you began to realize he was splattered in blood. Though the majority of it painted his vest and pants, you noticed patterns streaking across his exposed forearms, neck, and face. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see, knowing how dangerous this lifestyle was.
This tugged at your mind. Had he gotten injured in any way? “Are you hurt?” you ask.
“Er,” his gaze swept across the shore, and finally landed on the rock which your clothes lay upon.  Eyes growing wide, you could see the rosy tint in his cheeks as he looked away. Clearing his throat, he answered, “Blood ain’t mine. Actually, I was gonna come wash up out here, since I can’t exactly go back to town n’ do it… Guess this lake’s already occupied.” He tucked his head down sheepishly.
His answer allowed you to smile in relief. Though you understood his reasoning to come out here, he was one of the few you wouldn’t mind sharing this space with. No reason to force him to go elsewhere. “No it ain’t,” you responded. “There’s plenty of room for the both of us.”
“N-no, you ain’t even decent,” he stammered, biting his lip from underneath the brim of his hat. “I’ll just go –”
“Arthur,” you interjected. “It’s fine, I promise. It’s a big lake, not like we’ll be on top of one another. I don’t care.”
He refused to look at you directly, instead cast his attention across the lake in deep thought. A full moment passed before he sighed and dismounted Boadicea. “Guess I can’t really argue that…” he murmured. “Can you jus’…turn ‘round please?”
You nodded, smiling a little at his modesty. Turning yourself around and swimming further out, you waited until you heard him stepping into the water before facing him again.
He stood in waist deep water, arms held to the front of his body. The somewhat clear water was dark enough for you not to see below his navel. You’d only seen Arthur shirtless a handful of times, and each moment of stolen subtle glances you appreciated more than the last. He was certainly built nicely, his frame decorated with just the right amount of muscle.
“Don’t stare please,” he mumbled.
You abided to his wish, instead swimming a little further out with only your head above the surface. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him beginning to bathe himself, albeit awkwardly. You had to wonder how often he would have a bath girl do the work for him. Or perhaps it was your presence skewing him? Arthur was usually arrogant and carried himself with confidence, without a care in the world of who thought what of him. It was only in the presence of those close to him did he show a different side, and you were no exception.
After a few moments of silence, the questions from earlier arose in your mind. Maybe it would be less awkward for him if you were to initiate some casual conversation. Shifting to cast a glance his way, you called out. “So how’d the job go?”
He avoided your eyes, keeping his fixated on his forearms, running his hands along to remove the stains. The water soon tinged crimson with blood pooling around him. He hesitated for a moment. “Pretty good, actually. We made out with two thousand dollars.”
Two thousand? That certainly was much more than you were expecting to hear. Out of every heist you’ve done, you’d never made it out with more than a couple hundred. “You must be pretty happy with yourself then.”
His eyes flickered to you for a brief second. “Yeah,” he agreed with a slight chuckle. “Was much more too, only had a short time to gather what we could ‘fore the law came down on us.”
“That’s a shame,” you commented. “Sounds like you needed an extra hand after all.” You remembered that little conversation John had with them.
He turned his full attention to you now, however still avoided looking at your face. “John’s too young n’ headstrong for bigger jobs right now.” He said pointedly.
“I meant me. I was gonna volunteer myself until I saw Dutch deny John.”
Arthur blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh…why didn’t ya anyway?”
You shrugged, leaning back a little to stare at the sky. “I figured he’d say no anyway. And I know you three are perfectly capable without an extra hand.”
He hummed softly in response. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “I don’t think he’d say no. I woulda vouched for ya anyway.”
You smiled at his comment, lifting your head to look at him again. “Thanks, but I’m sure John would have been pissed if he heard that.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, he’s still a kid. He’d get over it.”
“True,” you agreed with a giggle of your own. “Think we would have gotten away with more if I’d come along?”
Arthur gave you a crooked smile. “I think we’d get away with everything they had if you’d come along.”
You couldn’t deny that. Almost every job you’d attended ended in a successful plunder, thus earning praise from everyone in camp. You took pride in your skill even though you didn’t boast it. Dutch and Hosea saw you as one of the most productive members of the gang, of course they would have been happy for you to come along. You reminded yourself to volunteer next time despite what little Johnny Marston thought. “Guess I’ll volunteer next time, since you boys obviously need my help.” You smirked.
Arthur scoffed in response. “Hey now, that was uncalled for.” He laughed, sinking further to almost shoulder height.
You smiled at him, daring to swim a little closer.  “It’s true, ya know. Pretty sure any of those other heists wouldn’t have gone as smooth if I hadn’t been there.” You commented jokingly.
“You sayin’ we ain’t as good?” Arthur asked with a quirked eyebrow, although he couldn’t hide the amusement plain on his face.
“I’m saying that some things need a woman’s touch, even robbing.” You teased, grinning widely at him.
He rolled his eyes, stretching his arms out to propel himself slowly through the water. “Think I changed my mind, with talk like that.”
It was your turn to scoff. You knew he was only fooling with you, though while he was distracted, you took a chance to raise your arm up and splash a bit of water in his direction. Splattering across his face and head, he yelped in surprise and flinched away, raising his arms in defense.
“Damnit, Y/N!” he huffed, wiping his face of the droplets. “The hell was that for?”
You chortled in response, swinging your arms behind you to swim further away. “Don’t be angry, you’re already wet!”
Despite a prick of annoyance shadowing his features, the way his lips curled into a smile told you he certainly wasn’t completely irritated. The furrow in his brow relaxed before he spoke, “You better be careful, next time I won’t be so forgivin’.”
You paused to look at him. “Oh, that’s some big talk, Arthur Morgan!” you exclaimed, changing your direction to swim toward him once again. You stopped just a few feet away, the closest you’ve gotten so far. Shooting him a smirk, you continued, “What would the scary outlaw do to me?”
“Somethin’ not nice,” he answered, the smile never leaving his face. “Don’t think you wanna find out.”
Those words posed a challenge. As childish as this was, you weren’t going to deny yourself a little bit of fun for the time being. The two of you were still shoulder height above the water. With his wide frame and thick torso, he could have easily outmatched you on solid ground.
You launched yourself forward, throwing your hands out to slap them onto his shoulders. With a swift kick to propel your body further, it provided you with enough strength to shove him completely beneath the surface. His eyes widened in surprise and terror before his face was engulfed by the somewhat turbid lake. Immediately you yanked your hands away, spinning around as fast as the weight of the water would allow. Paddling quickly away from him, the sound of splashing and spluttering filling your ears. It would only be a matter of time before he caught up to you.
Hurrying toward the shore, his nearly beastly roar soon carried across the lake. He called out your name, and you didn’t dare to look back. He was growing closer, faster than you could reach the shallows. In a few short seconds, he was on you. Thick arms wrapping around your torso and stopping you in your tracks. You squealed out in surprise, automatically wanting to break free of his embrace. Though your struggle proved useless as he was far too strong.
“Arthur!” you cried out, voice shuddering with laughter. “C’mon, lemme go!”
“Ya pushed me, woman,” he growled in your ear. “Think I’d let ya get away with that?”
You still tried to wriggle from his grasp, only further proving it as a fruitless effort. “Was worth a shot!” you said proudly, smiling widely.
Expecting him to serve the same fate, you shut your eyes and waited for the inevitable cold grip of the water to engulf you completely. His hands grazed across your abdomen, halting at the curves of your waistline. He paused there, prompting your curiosity.
“Arthur?”
A mere second passed and the warmth of him disappeared. Waves shifted around you in the absence of him, and you turned in confusion. He had his back facing you.
“Arthur? What’s wrong?” You inquired.
“Weren’t right for me to do that,” he answered quietly. “‘M sorry.”
You frowned in confusion. Just moments ago the two of you were playing like two kids uncaring of the world. “You didn’t scare me if that’s what you meant.”
“No,” he said flatly. “The way I grabbed ya. You’re naked, weren’t proper. Stupid o’ me…”
That hadn’t even crossed your mind. The awareness had flung out the instant you began your tomfoolery, and even now you didn’t even care. “So what?” You scoff. “Nothing happened.”
“Still ain’t right,” he grumbled, moving closer to the shore. “I shouldn’ta –“
“Arthur,” your tone sharp. “We were playing around. I don’t care if I’m clothed or not, it didn’t bother me.”
He mumbled something you couldn’t hear. There was something else on his mind. In shallower waters, more of his torso was visible, streams of water cascading down his strong back, shining beautifully in the sunlight. Your breath nearly caught at the sight, but the minor distraction hadn’t removed your original intention.
“Arthur!” You called out. “Don’t leave yet!”
He froze in place.
“Talk to me, please. What’s really wrong?”
He hadn’t uttered a single word for a full minute. He breathed in again. “Don’t matter, Y/N. Sorry for bein’ handsy with you, I shoulda known better.”
He was lying. You knew him well enough by now. You sighed heavily and stood up completely, allowing your upper torso exposed to the air. Moving a little closer, you said softly, “look at me.”
You half expected him to be stubborn and walk away. Instead, he slowly turned, his eyes fixed away from your figure. Your heart began to hammer wildly in your chest. It hadn’t been too long since your state had been graced by a man’s presence. You were confident enough to not feel shy about yourself.
Especially not around Arthur.
His eyes slowly raked up your body, finally meeting your patient gaze.
Taking another deep breath, you murmured to him, “Talk to me.”
He swallowed audibly. “It ain’t important –”
“Don’t give me that. Tell me what’s wrong please,” you interjected. “Whatever it is, I won’t be mad.”
He appeared conflicted, chewing on his bottom lip in hesitation and tearing his eyes away. “It’s, uh…” he gritted his teeth and swore to himself. “Damn it, Morgan!” He ran his hand through his damp hair in what seemed to be frustration. “It’s you.” He finally uttered.
“Me?” You repeated in confusion. “What’s wrong with me?”
“No, nothin’ ain’t wrong with you, it’s…” he trailed off, becoming more flustered with each passing second. “I…I like you, Y/N.”
Out of everything in the world, it was a confession you hadn’t expected to hear. Blood roared in your ears as your heart did somersaults beneath your ribs. Arthur Morgan, liking you? Words couldn’t formulate in your mind as everything you wanted to say disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. You wanted to say something, anything, a simple response to accommodate for your lack of reaction.
He must’ve taken your silence negatively. A deep frown appeared on his face and his head hung in defeat. As he began to turn away, your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He stopped at an instant, slowly lifting his head to stare into your eyes once again.
His eyes. A beautiful blue-green hue twinkling brilliantly from the sunny reflection of the lake. You observed every feature of his face, from his thick sandy colored hair, down to his chiseled, stubbled jaw. Truly such a stubborn, ruthless beast who would land a bullet between a man’s eyes only to turn around and offer you help, and dance with you on cheerful occasions. Too many days you spent admiring him from afar. Too many nights spent in crowded saloons, picking up some random cowboy to swoon and come back not completely satisfied and wishing someone else would share that hotel bed with you. Too much time wasted attempting to deny your ever growing feelings for this man.
You would never admit it out loud that Arthur Morgan had your heart, long before he even knew it.
Your lips curved into a soft smile. Sliding your hand to capture his, you sensed his hesitation when you entwined his fingers with yours. “I don’t see that as a problem.” You whispered to him.
A slew of emotion flitted through his eyes in a long-lasting moment. His lips parted in attempts to speak, only to hear him release a disjointed breath. “It is,” he said sadly.
“Why?” you pressed.
“Mary.”
Mary. That one name that plagued your dreams for far too long. Arthur had been head over heels for this high society woman who frowned upon his lifestyle. She was polite every time you’d come across her, yet you saw clearly through her façade. How difficult it was to keep your mouth shut every time she peered at you with thinly veiled judgment. “Fuck Mary,” You spat it as if reciting the vilest of curses. He stared at you in surprise. “How long has it been, Arthur? Since she left you?”
“Uh, a few months…” he mumbled.
“A few months,” you repeated. “You hold no obligation over her anymore, Arthur. She’s gone. And I’m here now.”
“I know, I know,” he sighed heavily, dipping his head yet again. “It’s stupid o’ me to even keep thinkin’ ‘bout her. Every time I’ve tried tellin’ ya, I get stuck on her. It’s jus’ hard… I don’t wanna have her on my mind no more.”
The conflict hung heavy in his voice. You couldn’t be angry with him over this; he loved Mary for reasons you could never fathom. She left him to be wed and bound to live the life she dreamed, a decision that wounded Arthur deeper than any gunshot or stab of a knife.
With your free hand, you reached up to caress his jaw, prompting him to look at you. “Then let me help you forget,” you uttered.
He blinked in silence, his eyes never leaving yours. Seconds ticked by as you watched every inner thought of his displayed plain on his face. You were worried he’d refuse, until he gave a small, simple nod.
That was all you needed. Trapping his face gently between your palms, you tilted your head up, pulling yourself closer to lay a tender kiss upon his lips. A brief moment of tension felt soon released when he melted to you, kissing you with equally returned tenderness.
He relaxed completely to your touch. Large hands made their presence upon your hips, so loosely held against your bare skin. You encouraged him by taking one step closer. The heat radiating from his body negated the cool waters surrounding you. He moved to rest his palms upon your lower back, ever so hesitant to further progress. Releasing his face to favor his neck, your arms latched to him to pull your body flush with his.
Arthur’s breath hitched, his grip tightening in reaction. He parted his lips from yours, peering into your eyes. A sweet softness reflected in his, though below the seafoam surface lurked a deeper musing.
“Been wantin’ to do that,” he murmured to you. “Guess I’m too foolish to make myself wait for so long. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head in disagreement. “I don’t think you’re foolish, you’re just too stubborn to realize your own feelings.”
He gave a singular laugh, a short and deep chortle that pulsed against your chest. “I s’pose you’re right, guess I got some catchin’ up to do.”
With a hum of response, you carded your fingers through his hair. “You’ve got all the time in the world with me, Arthur Morgan. And we’re here now, just the two of us.”
A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One hand released your waistline to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. Wordlessly he drew you in for a second kiss. Moving his hand to the back of your head, his fingers tangled within your locks.
Despite his large frame, he held a certain tenderness unlike any other man you’d been with. A lack of urgency and force to indulge in a lustful night. Every blissful moment here you wanted to last forever, remaining in this lake and far from any civilization.
The kiss soon deepened, easing your tongue to invade him. He allowed you to, following your lead without a moment of hesitation. His arm encircled your waist completely, pinning you to him without excessive strength. Every subtle movement allowed you to appreciate him more and more, handling you like precious cargo rather than a sack of feed.
Fingertips thickened with callouses traced patterns along your back, a touch so feather soft your skin tingled in his wake. Trailing toward your butt beneath the surface, ghosting ever so slightly across the crest. You hadn’t been surprised by this at all. Sensing a small tinge of hesitation, you offered subtle encouragement with your own touch. Smoothing your palm along his muscular shoulder, trailing your fingers down his arm, pausing to gently grip his wrist.
He pulled his head back to look at you, a look of shame crossing his face and his mouth agape in the beginnings of what you assumed was an apology.
You however just smiled, moving his hand to rest against the curve of your butt. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise, sputtering out incomprehensible noise while his face began to show a hue of fuchsia.
Hushing him gently with a finger to his lips, you rubbed his arm soothingly. He was after all still a man, and why deny those thoughts lurking below his otherwise respectful nature? “Touch where you’d like.” You whispered to him.
An audible gulp emanated from his throat, his gaze sweeping over your face as if searching for any notion of disapproval or repulsion. When finding none, he uttered, “You sure?”
Giving a small nod, your other hand rested against his chest, running a single digit across the ridge of his collarbone. “I trust you.”
Reluctance still hinted in his face as he considered your words. His lips twitched as if to say something, though not a single sound came out. You waited quietly to see what his next move would be.
And then you felt it. The beginnings of a light caress as his palm rubbed your smooth skin. Nails scraped along the surface in a small, experimental squeeze. You giggled softly and smiled even wider, running your own hand down the midline of his chest. Admiring him from afar paled in comparison to right now, appreciating every hardened muscle you once only dreamed of holding.
The soft grip on your head disappeared entirely as the rough skin of his other hand moved slowly down your back and rested at the dip of your waist. His eyes flickered downward for a fraction of a second, taking in the plain sight of your naked breasts before looking back to you. Giving him a small nod, he moved from your waist, trailing his fingertips along the front of your torso. Carefully, he fondled one, his eyes never leaving your face. With slow progression his confidence began to grow, and you moaned encouragingly for him to continue. A delicate massage accompanied by his thumb teasing your nipple, he smiled.
“You feel so soft…” he murmured to you.
You hummed in response, thoroughly enjoying this moment. You weren’t sure how far this would go, though his touch was prompting you to explore further. From his chest down to his abdomen, enjoying every swell and plane decorating his frame, you dipped your hand beneath the surface. He tensed once you reached below his navel, although did not offer any notion of backing away. Your eyes met his, unblinking and waiting.
And so you continued further. The heat of his arousal was a stark contrast to the cool liquid surrounding him. Your fingers traced along the soft skin, observing every inch with growing interest. From the tip to the root, your hand turned to rest your palm on his hardened length. Wrapping your entire hand around it you found him to be blessed with girth.
One pump, and another, as smooth as the water would allow. Arthur’s hold on you loosened as a low moan slid from his lips. A simple sign for you to continue, thus you did. Watching his eyelids flutter and his head tilt back, a small smirk tweaked the corner of your mouth. He was soon malleable in your capable hands, his entire figure relaxing for you.
Leaning in to him, you cupped his neck and pressed your lips to his damp skin, leaving light kisses along the junction of his shoulder. His breathing heightened accompanied by a disjointed sound of surprise and pleasure. He spoke your name in a soft, low groan.
“Yes?” you answered him.
“I –” he paused, his hands returning to your body, running his fingers tantalizingly along your curves. “I wanna have you.”
Those words, the sincerity laced within them threw your heart into an erratic rhythm. Surely this was your imagination, your mind baked from being in the heat and sun for far too long. “Really? Here?” you asked quietly.
He nodded. “Like you said, we’re here now,” He replied with what you’d said to him earlier. “Might as well make the most of it, ‘less you don’t want to.”
The mere thought stoked the already smoldering embers within you, curling into a small fire. You bit your lip, weighing your considerations. Your body yearned for him; the pressure deep in your belly too incessant to ignore. Would it be worth it to wait until the two of you found a hotel to stay in, or an abandoned cabin to avoid any unwanted eyes?
However, the lakeside had been quiet for as long as you both had been out here. As unorthodox as it was, the thought of giving to your primal desires within the arms of nature’s embrace seemed invigorating. Staring deep into his awaiting eyes, you finally murmured, “Yes.”
As soon as the word passed your lips, he drew you in for another kiss. Deep and urgent, his tongue hadn’t hesitated to dance with yours. His touch grew fervent, sweeping across every curve and swell your body had to offer. One hand gravitated to your breasts, toying with each and drawing out a few muffled moans from you, while the other snaked further down. Like your own endeavor, he didn’t have trouble finding his target. Warm pads searched your folds briefly until resting upon that little bundle of nerves, creating small circles amongst your sensitive flesh. In turn, the grip you had on his cock hastened. Short and heavy breaths pierced the air as he pulled back, muttering out a swear.
Arthur’s movements soon became erratic, his fingers dancing feverishly against your nub. It didn’t take long for the fire to erupt into a blazing inferno, coiling stronger and tighter with each passing second. You panted out his name, gripping his shoulder for support as pleasure rolled through your body. Eagerly he moved to your entrance, testing it briefly before sinking two digits in. You weren’t sure if you were truly that wet or if the water aided his entry, but the thought quickly swept from your mind the moment he pumped his fingers in and out. You could have melted then and there if he wasn’t supporting you.
Closing your eyes, your mind soon became too addled to focus. The pressure within your core bubbled and threatened to burst. Your head tilted back and moaned your pleasure to the heavens, the fleeting arrival of your climax exploding through every inch of your body. Nails melded into flesh as he coaxed the final waves from you, your lips gasping out his name.
“Arthur…” you groaned, your heart racing. “My God, you know your way with a woman.”
“That surprise you?” he asked with a proud smirk.
Your prickling curiosity as to how far he went with Mary was not something you wanted to delve further into, yet Arthur was a young and handsome man. You’d witnessed him catch the eye of willful saloon women more than once. His handle on you lacked the clumsy and blunt nature of a virgin. “How about you show me further?” you prompted, your hand still resting against his length. Trailing your fingernails along the underside, you watched as his entire body shuddered.
“Mm, gladly…” he growled to you, moving his hands to grip your thighs. Without hesitation you wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms following suit to his neck. He seemingly had no issue supporting your weight, wading through the water until your back rested against a warm, gritty surface. He’d placed you on a rock, and soon released you to straighten up, peering at you with a gleam in his eye. “Turn ‘round.”
You listened without hesitation, immediately understanding what he wanted. Sinking partly back into the water, you turned away from him and bent over, swaying your hips at him. A growl of satisfaction rumbled from him, his rough hands taking place on your hips. The heat of his arousal pressed against the divide of your ass, rubbing it along your soft skin.
Soon he honed in for your lower lips, prodding your entrance once before pushing his way in. You gasped; the pressure surprising at first. His girth stood true,  expanding your inner walls further than you anticipated. Hips flush with your butt, he pulled back and drove into you, erasing any prior thoughts from your mind. The pressure was soon replaced with pleasure provided by his unrelenting thrusts.
Swearing out loud, your fingers scrambled on the rock to ground yourself. He was not offering any leeway, using you to his advantage. His grip was tight, deep enough to definitely leave bruises. He groaned and growled, whispering how well you were taking him.
Such talk wasn’t foreign to you, yet hearing it from Arthur created a new thrill. You arched your back for him, allowing nature to hear your song. The subtle change of angle brought a greater difference, allowing the tip of his cock to drag along that spot.
You gasped out his name, your eyes rolling as another coil of fire burned with fury within you. It wouldn’t be much longer until he ripped a second climax from you. Still you clung to that rock as if for dear life while he took every inch. His speed and precision were pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.
“Shit,” he grunted, voice wavering from his movement. His fingers made their presence known between your legs, rubbing you with vigor. “C’mon, girl,” he coaxed in that lovely baritone voice. “Give it to me.”
Oh Lord, how could you not give to him? That last command was all you needed to bend to his whim. Much more explosive than the first, your legs trembled and your back arched even more as it overtook every part of your body. Every being within the immediate area knew his name, you calling it out like a prayer.
With a noise of satisfaction he gripped your hips again, driving himself even faster, milking your orgasm of every last drop. A string of expletives fell from your mouth. “Arthur – fuck!” you huffed, attempting to halt the trembling overtaking your muscles. You stiffened against the rock, your skin catching somewhat uncomfortably though you didn’t care at that moment. Your eyes rolled from the sky to the trees to the shore, though focusing on nothing.
Until something caught your eye. Something along the sandy terrain that wasn’t there before. You blinked, ripping yourself back to clarity. Searching for it again, your gaze landed on it directly. A person standing just yards away, fixated on the two of you. It only took half a second to realize it was John Marston.
Your heart dropped into your stomach. Where the hell did he come from? “Arthur –” you grunted, mustering up as much breath as you could despite him pounding into you. “Arthur, stop!”
He halted immediately. “Wh-what’s wrong?” he breathlessly asked.
“Someone’s watching.” You hissed, your head twitching toward the shore.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his face twist in confusion. He followed your line of sight and the bewilderment was quickly swept away with surprise. “Marston?” he pulled out of you immediately. “What the hell –”
You hid yourself better behind the rock. Turning your head, you looked just in time to see a conniving grin spread across John’s face. He turned and grabbed a pile of clothes – Arthur’s – off the ground. “Payback, Morgan!”
As the teen darted towards the trees, Arthur’s growl of anger sounded over you, followed by the splashing of water. You watched as Arthur stormed toward the shore, attempting to go as fast as he could. “Get back here, damnit!” he roared, finally reaching solid ground. Butt naked and his wet skin shining in the sun, he briefly stopped to yank his boots on before sprinting after John, who had disappeared amongst the shrubs already.
Arthur soon also disappeared into the woods, his shouts soon becoming muffled by the thick canopy above. John’s laughter grew further away. You waited, listening to their voices growing more distant. You pondered whether or not to try and help, but two naked people running through the woods certainly wouldn’t remedy the situation, and getting dressed would just waste time.
John hadn’t touched your clothes, only Arthur’s. Perhaps the young teenager was putting revenge over whatever Arthur said to him earlier. Typical sibling behavior as it were, you thought with a small smirk to yourself.
A few more minutes ticked by while you were wrapped in silence. You hadn’t heard either of them, and wondered how far John got, or if Arthur managed to catch up to him. Your unasked question was answered when the rustling of leaves and branches caught your attention. The sharp crunch of boots snapping twigs soon revealed Arthur, disgruntled and still very nude, though his body was peppered with forest debris.
You had to admit, as good as he looked, the sight of his defeated face and in nothing but his boots was quite amusing.
“What’re you smilin’ at?” He grumbled as he made his way to the water, kicking his boots off with unneeded force.
You started to giggle, standing straight to gesture to him as a whole. “Never thought I’d see Arthur Morgan running after a kid, stark naked!”
The scowl he gave you was heated, though didn’t faze your ever growing laughter. “Yeah well, don’t get used to it.” He huffed, breaking the surface to slide back in.
“Couldn’t catch him huh?” You chuckled.
He sighed heavily. “Lil’ shit got to the road. I had to stop chasin’ him or else give an unwanted show to some passin’ stagecoaches.”
That only prompted a harder laugh. “What, I’m sure someone aboard them would’ve appreciated it!”
With a scoff, Arthur sank further into the water, attempting to wash the debris from his body. “Now I’m stuck here without clothes. How am I gonna get back to camp without people seein’ me like this?”
The mere thought of it brought even more amusement to you. Arthur trying to sneak into camp, probably holding his hat over himself in attempts to cling to a shred of his dignity. No one in camp would let him live that down.
“Well, John didn’t steal my clothes,” you pointed out, gesturing toward the rock where your garments still lay out. “I can run back and grab yours, if you want.”
“Like I got a choice,” he mumbled dejectedly. “Jus’ hurry, will ya?”
“Sure,” you say, making your way to land and stepping out into the hot air once again. “Can’t let anyone see big bad Arthur Morgan stuck out here in his natural state!” you cackled.
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mcwriting · 3 years
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The Marriage Project (12)
Hi all!!! This is the long awaited 12th chapter! It took months of rewrites of not only this chapter, but future ones as well to ensure this was written to the best of my ability.
This chapter marks the heaviest moment in this story, so please, please be mindful of the content warnings for this chapter. I marked the section that includes this moment.
I also chose not to add tags so that this is not everyone's first impression of this series!
Masterlist
Word Count: 2700
Warnings: s*xual ass*ult, language, alcohol consumption, blood/injury mention
% end of the first week of November- cont. %
Throughout the game, you and the other homecoming court members (aside from any football players or cheerleaders) had been sitting on the sidelines right in front of the student section, so you were somewhat able to talk to your friends.
The team was playing good in the first half. It was probably Tom’s best game that you’d ever seen. At halftime, they did the “official” crowning of court members and recognized football and cheer seniors.
The seniors were presented first, having their parents with them as they walked across the field. They started with the cheer team so Daisy could change back into her white dress.
Then came the court recognitions, you and Tom stepping onto the field after everyone else as the crowd cheered and clapped.
Tom’s arm linked around yours as he helped you stay steady walking across the grass, since your heels weren't quite meant for the soft ground. Someone handed you a large bundle of roses and you smiled widely.
The bright lights, the cheers, the smile Tom gave you.
It was a moment burned into your memory forever.
Then it was over, and the team went back to their game, winning 42-27, their best win by far all season.
You were saying your final thank you’s to people’s congratulatory comments as you began heading out to the parking lot. Alexis caught up with you amidst the chaos.
“You still on for Tyler’s? I’ll drive,” she offered.
“Yeah. Let’s go home so I can change and then we’ll head out, okay?” you said, finally getting to your car.
She followed you to your house, where you changed into a tight long-sleeved bodysuit, skinny jeans, and some heeled booties. You also packed some other things into a bag to sleep at Alexis’s house later.
You told your parents you were staying the night at her house. They definitely knew better by the way you’d left on your makeup and put on real clothes, but didn’t question you, instead tossing out a “stay safe” and “don’t do anything stupid” as you headed out the door.
Things were pretty much in full swing by the time you and Alexis pulled into the yard outside Tyler’s house and found your friends inside, red solo cups in hand. The speakers were blaring something with a strong beat and most people were dancing.
You had a white claw to loosen up. After having refrained from partying throughout volleyball season, Alexis would be designated driver for the night to let you have your fun. You saw plenty of football players hanging around but didn’t find Tom anywhere.
Weird.
*CW below*
After a little bit, you ran off to use the bathroom just down a hall. You went alone since it would only be a couple minutes, you knew everyone there, and weren’t drunk.
When you stepped back into the hall, you almost ran into a large figure. It was Harrison.
“Oh, hi there, little lady,” he sneered.
“Fuck off, Harrison.” you commanded, brushing past him. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.
“I don’t think you want to be saying that to me,” he pinned you against the wall. His breath reeked of alcohol. You looked around, but it was dark and no one was close enough to see your predicament.
“What the hell do you want? I’m just here to have fun.”
“And what do you think I’m doing huh? Don’t think I forgot about that little stunt you pulled going to Johnson. It’s your fault I missed two games.”
“Don’t think so buddy. Maybe if you respected women you wouldn’t have been in trouble in the first place. Now get off me,” you commanded, trying to push forward.
Big mistake.
He drove a knee between your legs and placed a hand over your chest, gripping your breast so tightly it hurt. For the first time, you were actually scared, but still stared directly into his eyes.
“Nah. I just think you’re too much of a pussy to take me. Now you’re gonna stay quiet or something much worse is gonna come to you,” he threatened, then placed his lips on your neck.
You squeezed your eyes shut to focus your thoughts. It was like you were frozen in shock and pain.
His other hand started sliding up the inside of your thigh when you panicked, kneeing him in the groin and shoving him from you before sending a fist into his jaw.
You were thankful he was drunk, as it made him disoriented and off balance.
Harrison reeled back, looking at you in confusion as he bent over, holding his mouth in pain. There was blood around his gums. He looked at you angrily before another voice called out.
“What the hell is going on here? I thought I told you to stay away from her,” Tom seethed. There was a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before.
“You think I really care what you have to say? I was just trying to teach y/n a little lesson about consequences,” Harrison replied, slurring his words, before spitting blood onto the hardwood floor and pointing a finger right in your face. “You really think a couple hits are going to stop m-”
Tom was about to step forward to do something when rage overtook you and you threw another punch to his nose, causing him to fall backwards unconscious.
Tom looked down in shock at the limp body beneath you, then back up to you. Once your eyes met, his features softened.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked, stepping over Harrison and guiding you away from him. As you finally began processing what had happened, tears slipped down your cheeks.
“I… he- he…” you couldn’t get the words out and your breath quickened.
“Hey, hey. I know. You don’t have to say anything. It wasn't your fault. Can I hug you?”
*end CW*
You sniffled and nodded, not meeting his eyes. He engulfed you in his arms, rubbing your back as you buried your face in his neck. Your chest throbbed from Harrison’s grip and knuckles ached from where they’d met his face twice.
After a few minutes, you straightened up and wiped your face, trying to be tough. Harrison was still out cold on the floor.
“Do you want me to go get your friends?” he asked, to which you nodded. He ran off and only a minute later came Alexis and Caroline.
They fawned over you, making sure you were okay. Tom put a hand on either of your arms and looked you directly in the eyes.
“I’m going to make sure he and his awful friends leave, okay? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
The girls led you back into the bathroom while Tom began dragging Harrison off. They helped you clean the mascara stains on your cheeks and make sure you were okay. After about 10 minutes, you finally felt confident enough to go back out.
When you got back to the main room, word had it that Tom, Jake, Chris, and some of the other guys were making sure Harrison’s crew would leave and not come back.
Knowing that you were safe from him finally, you decided to drink in the hopes of forgetting what happened for a little bit and have some fun. You started off with a shot of strawberry lemonade vodka, which led to shotgunning a beer and tossing back another shot (or two) of bacardi.
Not a half hour later and you were plastered. You went crazy on the dance floor, jumping around like a fool as different people came up to dance with you.
You were barely aware of what you were doing and extremely clumsy. The room was turning as you clambered up onto a table. You were spinning in circles until your shoe’s heel missed the edge and you started to topple over.
You couldn’t even react, but after a second realized you hadn’t hit the ground, and were instead in Tom’s arms.
“Alright I think it’s time for you to take a breather,” he said. It was hard to understand him as his voice sounded distant. He carried you out of the warm room and outside, where the cold air hit you like a truck. He set you down on the edge of Tyler’s porch.
“Y/n are you okay? After everything that happened I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
What he said wasn’t funny, but you found yourself cackling anyways.
“Better than everrr! Did you see my twerking?”
“Yes, yes I did. Are you feeling okay? Your face is super red. You aren’t nauseous?”
You shook your head with a big grin.
“I’m fiiiineee, pretty boy. Just because you’re my husssband doesn’t mean you have to follow me everywhere! I’m alllll gooood.” You slumped onto his shoulder, still giggling.
“Alright, princess. Let’s just chill here for now alright? I’ll text Alexis in a little bit.”
You sat in silence twisting your star ring as you began to cool down and your hearing was returning to normal. Tom was rubbing his thumb over your shoulder and had you drinking your second cup of water, but the effects of the alcohol were still present.
“Tom?” you whispered. He hummed. “You’re a really good husband.”
He chuckled.
“You think so?” he paused. “I think you’re a pretty good wife, too. No matter how much trouble you manage to get us both in.”
After a little longer, you felt yourself getting sleepy as the night took its toll on you. Alexis came outside and rushed over.
“Hey! I was looking everywhere. Sorry I didn’t see your text. Let’s go, y/n. You’ve had a looong night.”
Tom picked you up from the porch and led you to the car, half carrying you. He helped you into the car and buckled you up, then stood leaning in the doorway.
“Thanks for your help, Tom. Glad you were there for us,” Alexis said with a small grin as she buckled in.
“Of course. I’d do anything for her,” he replied, giving you a wink before shutting the door and waving. Alexis had barely pulled out of the driveway when she looked at you.
“Okay spill. What’s been going on with you and Tom?” she asked in a serious tone. She was clearly using the alcohol against you, and even though you were much more aware than before, you still started talking.
“I think I really like him.”
“Like we didn’t all already know that. I meant what have you been hiding from me the past three months? I know there’s more to the story.”
You sighed.
“It started last month, when Tom beat up… you know… the first time. We held hands on his bedroom floor that weekend until his mom accidentally walked in. And then we took those pictures and kept saying all these flirty things. I accidentally caught him naked, don’t ask.”
“Oh I’m definitely asking about that later. But continue.”
“Well then I stayed for dinner that Thursday and Sam caught us in the kitchen goofing around. Oh, and then last weekend we kissed, and-”
“YOU WHAT NOW?” she yelled, causing you to wince at the sound before you started rambling.
“We didn’t really kiss per se… It’s because we were fake dating for that couple. It just kinda happened! And now we’re going to homecoming together but it was supposed to be a secret so… don’t tell anyone before dinner tomorrow. Or tonight I guess since it’s Saturday morning.”
“I knew it. Dammit I knew it! Why didn’t you just tell me!”
“You’d make fun of me! Do you think I want to like him? We’ve been at each other’s throats all this time and now I’m just supposed to forget all that because of a little crush? You don’t get it, Lex. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way.”
You looked out the car window, trying to settle your breathing after getting worked up. Your head hurt and you were still thirsty. Alexis pulled into her driveway and cut the engine.
“I know I would clown you about it, and I probably still will, but we’re friends for a reason. And you’re joking, right? Everyone knows Tom is head over heels in love with you.”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way! Have you not seen the way he looks at you, and follows you like a puppy dog, and gets so protective over you? I mean come on, y/n. He literally said he’d do anything for you and winked before we left. You must be blind to not see that.”
You sat and tried to think about it for a minute, wondering if she was right about him.
“Let’s go in, y/n. It’s getting cold and you need to sleep it off. You’re not going to have a fun morning, that’s for sure.”
You followed her into the house, trying not to stumble. Your balance definitely wasn’t all there. Her garage door led straight to the kitchen where you chugged a glass of water and took some antacids, grabbing more water to take to her room.
You went into the bathroom to shower off the makeup and sweat and hairspray. When you got out and looked in the mirror, you saw the way your chest was reddened from what Harrison did to you. It took everything to hold back more tears.
%
The moment your eyes opened, everything hurt.
Your head, stomach, feet, chest. Your head was flooded with memories from the previous night. You rolled away from the window to find Alexis sitting on the floor next to a plate and glass of water.
“Well, well, well. Sleeping beauty awakes. I brought you my hangover cure.”
You looked down to see that on the plate sat two advils, an alka seltzer, and some cinnamon pop tarts. It was almost 11 am.
“Thanks, Lex. For everything. You’re the best,” you said, taking a bite off one pastry.
“Don’t be thanking me. Tom’s the real hero. He got a bunch of people together this morning to report Harrison for what he did to you and he’s suspended again, can’t go to the dance. I guess Johnson is gonna deal with it more next week and he might be expelled. Do you have any proof other than Tom?” she said gently.
“Let’s see,” you said, tugging off your shirt, revealing a sports bra. She gasped when she saw the purple bruising around one breast and the hickey marks that had been left on your neck.
“Oh my God, y/n. That’s awful.”
“I know. It didn’t look like this last night. We need to get some pictures.”
After taking some pictures for proof and finishing off your “breakfast,” you and Alexis began preparing yourselves for the dance. You were going to do makeup and hair at her house before going home to change, and then to Tom’s.
If he even still wanted to go with you. You decided to call him while Alexis curled your hair.
“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” he asked, voice deep and raspy. He must have gone to bed again after organizing the reports against Harrison.
“Yeah, I’m way better. Thanks for everything last night. For saving my ass. I heard what you did this morning, too. You’re the best.”
“It’s the right thing to do, y/n. I’m glad I was there. And you’re sure you’re okay? We can skip the dance tonight if you aren’t up for it. You know my mom would love to have you come hang out any time.”
“Hey, now. I’m not about to leave the dance without a king and queen. I mostly wanted to check if you were still okay with going together after everything.”
“Of course! I want to go with you, y/n. Nothing’s changed that.”
You smiled.
“Okay, well, I’ll pick you up at 5 for dinner. Bye, Tom.”
“See ya, princess.”
You ended the call and sat quietly looking down. You almost forgot Alexis was there until she said,
“So you’re driving him, huh? I alway knew you wore the pants. Now tell me about that whole ‘seeing him naked’ thing...”
%
A/N: so... there's that chapter. I hope you all understand that this moment is not at all meant to romanticize or glorify the terrible experiences so many people endure, but instead highlight one way this issue is dealt with.
I wish you all the best. Please remember that my messages and asks are always open ❤️
Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!
Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh, @supraveng,
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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years
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[ traffic jams ] 
pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k words
contains: ‘timestamps’ in a way, some shenanigans to pass the time, slightly awkward!suna, a bit too many ratatouille references, friendship with mutual crushing
a/n: i lowkey miss the traffic jams going home and one thing that struck me when reading suna’s bio on the wiki was that he doesn’t actually live near inarizaki so i thought it would be cute to have like a suna x reader commute fic
>> 5:45 pm: 
you sigh for what was probably the fifth time that hour as you stare at the road map on your phone. the highway you were currently on was marked with red, indicating a traffic jam that stretched for kilometers. ‘estimated travel time: 4 hours’ the top of your phone screen read.
‘great, and it’s a friday night on top of that.’ you rub the side of your temple and stare out the window of the bus. you already knew what going to inarizaki, a high school all the way out in hyogo, while you were currently living in tokyo meant when it came to travel time. you often had to wake up early and get home late with the long travel time to school and back. most days, it was manageable and a one hour commute meant a good day. however, there were days when a storm was raging outside, delaying the train and bus schedules, and road accidents that led to the kind of situation you were currently in.
after leaving at five pm, you spent the past hour doing some homework in the bus and now you were fresh out of things to do. you’re also avoiding using your phone too much and draining your battery. right before you’re about to put on your earphones, your bus seatmate stirs awake. 
aside from you, there is one other student who also commutes all the way to school from aichi, the prefecture where you live: suna rintarou. you know him as one of the regulars in the volleyball team and that he’s in the same year as you. neither of you ever really interacted much but took the same bus to and from school. sometimes you’d greet each other good morning and recently had this silent agreement to sit next to each other.
you watch as suna blinks sleepily before glancing out the window beside you. “where are we?” he mumbles.
“still in hyogo. it’s been an hour,” you answer. 
“damn, really?” suna groans when he realizes just how terrible the traffic is outside. “and it’s a friday too.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle mirthlessly. “also, estimated travel time is four hours so there go my exciting friday plans,” you add sarcastically.
“sorry you have to spend them with me,” suna smirks at you. your stomach flutters and you smile nervously. despite not knowing him too well, you couldn’t help but find him quite attractive. in fact, the reason why you got up early in the morning and tried to leave school at the same time as him was because you enjoyed your daily commutes with suna so much. even more so when you two started sitting next to each other.
“well, i don’t think that would be too bad,” you clear your throat. “we could play ‘i spy’ for four more hours.”
“or,” suna grins, leaning down and opening his backpack before pulling out his laptop. you chuckle and pull out your earphones. “we could watch ratatouille.”
“of all the things to pirate. you really chose ratatouille?”
“fuck disney, am i right?” suna smirks.
“fuck disney.”
>> 7:46 pm
“good on you for making sure that your laptop was fully charged before leaving school,” you say, stretching your arms a bit as soon as the credits roll.
“hmm, yeah,” suna sighs and leans his head back. “though, i think i made the wrong decision.”
“how come?”
suna crosses his arms over his stomach and squeezes his eyes shut. “because we watched ratatouille, i’m hungry now.”
“oh...” you nod your head, just as you feel a rumble in your stomach. “oh,” you repeat. 
“yeah,” suna groans. “do you have any food on you?”
“i have...” you rustled through your backpack before procuring “a bag of peanuts.” 
“hmm, that’ll have to do,” suna said, plucking the packet out of your hand. “say, one nut each per two minutes? just to ration it out?”
you sigh. “it’s going to be a long night.”
>> 8:10 pm
“there it is, the last two nuts,” suna says gazing at the two peanuts in the palm of his hand before offering one of them to you.
“i really, really thought they would last longer,” you sigh.
“they would have if you kept them for yourself,” suna raises his eyebrows. 
“i’m too nice for that,” you giggle. “besides, i’d feel too guilty seeing you all hungry.”
“and i might guilt-trip you just a little bit,” suna says. “like, toss you mournful looks and everything.”
“no! not the mournful looks,” you cry and the two of you burst out laughing. you lift your peanut towards him. “toast?” 
“toast,” suna snickers. you toast your peanuts before popping them into your mouth. you’re both still far from home.
>> 8:30 pm
“i spy with my little eye... something red and blinking.”
“oh my god, it’s another car taillight isn’t it?”
“... it is,” suna admits, blinking lazily out the window. “i mean, it’s all taillights out there. anyway, your turn.” he nudges your arm with his elbow.
“i spy with my little eye... “ you blink and yawn. “some really tired passengers.” 
“i’m looking at one right now,” suna snickers at you.
you two share a glance before simultaneously sighing. 
“i want to be home,” you say. you don’t even have to look at suna to know he’s nodding in agreement. 
>> 9:00 pm
“chicken nuggets.” 
“suna, please stop,” you groan.
“it’s all i can think of,” suna shakes his head. the two of you are staring up at the ceiling of bus, trying and failing to forget your hunger. “when we get out of here, i’m going to the first fast-food restaurant i see and ordering chicken nuggets. also ice cream from the convenience store. you know, the soft-serve one in the cone.”
“yeah, you only mentioned that five times for the past hour,” you roll your eyes.
“how bout you? what’s the first thing you’re getting when we finally get to the stop?” suna nudges your ribs. you close your eyes, knowing that nothing good will come out of talking about food. but then again, not thinking about it wasn’t going to make you any less hungrier either.
“strawberry yogurt drink,” you answer. “i want that strawberry yogurt drink that they always have in convenience stores?”
“oh that one,” suna hums. “you’re literally the only person i know who likes that.”
“which is great because the vending machines never run out of them,” you add. “you what else i want?” you ask after a beat of silence.
“what?”
“that mushroom remy cooked in the beginning of the movie,” you giggle. suna shakes his head as a smile blooms on his face. now that you think about it, you’ve never really seen that kind of goofy smile on him before.
>> 9:30 pm
suna wakes up for the second time during that bus ride after a short nap. it doesn’t surprise at all that he’s still in the bus. what does, though, is seeing you fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. you must have accidentally leaned on him while you two drifted off to sleep but suna was far from annoyed. 
he was never really one to approach random people to strike up a conversation, but he always enjoyed seeing you, wearing the same uniform as him, waiting at the same bus stop he took every morning. unlike suna, you were way more productive during your daily commutes by doing your homework in the bus. once or twice, he’d glance at your pretty handwriting or pick up your pencil after you accidentally dropped it.
suna noticed that sometimes, you’d pack cereal in ziploc bags to eat for breakfast. that it would take you less than five minutes to fall asleep in the bus when there are exams. that you rotated between the same five hairclips throughout the week.
the sound of the bus engine coming to a stop and passengers abruptly standing up brings suna out of his thoughts. with a start, he realizes that you’re both finally at the bus stop in your hometown.
“y/n. wake up,” suna nudges you softly. he only gets to appreciate your sleepy face for a few seconds before breaking the good news. “we’re home.”
“we are?” you wake up instantly at that and look out the window. “oh my god, we are!” you squeal. suna grins as the two of you quickly pick up your bags and leave the bus. 
“okay so the nearest fast-food place is the one a few blocks away from here,” suna says as the two of you leave the bus. god, he’s starving. he can already taste the chicken nuggets. 
“eat a whole bunch of them for me,” you laugh. suna stops and looks at you.
“i...” suna realizes with a hint of embarrassment that he was under the assumption you two would be going together. “if... if you’re hungry too you can come, if you want.”
“oh.” there’s genuine surprise in your voice and suna feels a bit of relief. “i... i thought.”
“of course you don’t have to if you really need to head home.” 
“it’s not that i just, rarely ever get invited to things,” you chuckle and hook your thumbs into the straps of your backpack. “so... shall we go?”
suna feels the corner of his lip turn up in a smile. “chicken nuggets are on me.”
>> monday, 6:00 am:
you sprint to the bus stop as fast as your legs could carry you. rarely were you ever late for your bus, especially with how quickly you went through your morning routine. but this time, your sibling hogged the bathroom for five minutes too long, thus leading you to your current predicament. 
the bus is thankfully still there when you reach the stop and you don’t hesitate before flinging yourself inside, only to be greeted with the seats full of passengers. ‘damn,’ you mentally curse. the next bus doesn’t arrive until twenty minutes later and you were surely going to come in to class late and--
“y/n.” 
you hear suna’s voice call out to your right. he lifts his bacpack off the seat beside him and gestures for you to sit. 
he had saved a seat for you.
“thank you so much,” you smile gratefully and slide into the seat while catching your breath. 
“sure thing, busmate,” suna smirks at you. “i, ah, also got you this.” he reaches into his backpack before handing you something. it’s a carton of your favorite strawberry-yogurt drink.
you have to press your lips together to keep the giddy smile off your face as you accept it from suna. “thanks... busmate.”
“so,” suna clears his throat. “i was thinking of what movies to pirate next in the event of another friday traffic jam. you got any ideas?”
“hmm, let me think...” 
maybe traffic jams weren’t going to be so bad after all. 
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stylesberries · 4 years
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Love On Tour
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Summary: Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.
Genre(s): fluff, a little smut
Word Count: 2.3k
Warning(s): this made me very soft, read at your own risk, peeps + mentions of sexual intercourse
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You tossed and turned throughout the whole night, not being able to focus on sleep. The man next to you was desperately holding onto your body, making it hard for you to change the position you were in.
You were waiting for your mom to text you, saying that she and dad landed safely in Rome. They’d never been in Italy before. Harry was here touring with Fine Line. He’d never met your parents.
You put two and two together and thought that this was an amazing opportunity for you to finally introduce your boyfriend to your parents.
He, obviously, knew nothing about it. You knew that if you told him, he would freak out, and you wanted him to keep it together for the show and didn’t want him to get anxious for nothing. They already loved him from hearing stories you’ve told them about him.
Taking a glance at the screen of your phone, you saw bright numbers on it. 4:35 A.M.
They were supposed to land soon, so your tried your best to keep your eyes open.
“A glass of water would be great right now.” You thought to yourself, looking over to your side. Harry’s cheek was smushed into your side, and he kept subconsciously tightening his hold around you.
You carefully pulled your arm, which was squeezed between your warm bodies, and placed in on his back. Bringing your hand to his head, you started slowly playing with his curls, making sure not to accidentally wake him up.
“He seems fast asleep. If I get out slowly, he wouldn’t notice, right?” Debating, whether you should risk waking him up or just wait until he wakes up to get water, your dry mouth decides for you.
After grabbing a pillow that was laying next to your boyfriend, you started sliding out of his tight hold, gradually replacing your body with the pillow.
The bed creaked after losing contact with your body. Your eyes moved back to the bed, checking if your boyfriend noticed you missing.
As a little frown found its way on Harry’s face, wrinkles grazed the spot right between his eyebrows. You noticed his cheek being squished deeper into the pillow, and his hold around it tighten once again.
Standing by your bed in silence, you made sure to wait for a couple of minutes, to be certain that he was not woken up by you.
Turning around, taking a last glance at him peacefully cuddled in the pillows and blankets on the bed, you made your way out of your bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen to get yourself that long hoped-for glass of water.
Your tranquil walk back to the bedroom, now with a glass of water in your hand, was hindered by your phone ringing, echoing though the hall.
“Shit.” You muttered to yourself.
Running into the room, you hoped to be right on time to pick up the call before it wakes your previously peacefully sleeping boyfriend.
Unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky.
As you walked into your now-sunlit bedroom, the sight of your grumpy shirtless boyfriend caught your eye. He was holding your phone in one hand as it rang and rubbed the sleep out of his eye with the other.
“Mom’s callin’.” He managed to utter with a rasp in his voice.
Harry held out your phone to you, as his eyes grew heavy.
Taking your phone out of his hold, you picked up the call and heard your mom on the other side of the line.
“We landed, Y/N. Taking a taxi to your hotel in 10 minutes. People here are so nice.” She giggled in the end.
You would’ve too if you weren’t so exhausted from staying up all night to get a text from her. You started walking out of the room, to make sure Harry doesn’t hear her as well. Through your peripheral vision you could see the sleepy man fall back onto the pile of pillows.
“My poor baby.” You thought, as your mom went on about the flight and how excited she was to finally meet Harry.
“If he only knew.”
After your parents got on their taxi, they ended the call, telling you to get back in bed. To you it meant that you can finally cuddle your grumpy boyfriend.
Walking into your bedroom, you expected Harry to be sleeping. What surprised you was not only the fact that he was wide awake, but also the fact that he was standing by the window, looking outside.
“Baby, I’m so sorry for waking you up. Why don’t you go back to sleep?” Making your way to him, you watched as he slowly turned to face you. You walked right up to him and circled your arms around his waist. Positioning your chin on his chest, you looked up into his eyes. He lazily smiled down at you.
“Is mom okay? It’s quite early for her t’call, innit?”
He looked genuinely concerned, and suddenly you felt so guilty for keeping the truth away from him. It just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment.
“She’s okay, precious. Probably got confused in the time zones. We’re in a new place every week, after all.” You tried your best to brush it off. He seemed convinced.
“Oh, okay, lovey. ‘M glad she’s alright.”
You stood by the window for some time holding each other. Moments like these were the ones you longed for when he left touring with his debut album. They were the reason you were ready to study online, just to be by his side.
“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.
Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.
“What’s the matter with m’angel?” He gently cooed and moved closer to your face.
You were taken aback from your mental debates and smiled up at him.
“Nothing, nothing, baby. Everything’s okay.” You tried to quickly explain yourself. He didn’t seem convinced this time.
“Oh, come on. I know y’better than I know m’self. You’re in deep though, sweetie. Something’s botherin’ you. What is it?” He pushed your head into his chest and stroked your hair.
After being together for almost a year, Harry knew that you needed to be close to him to be able to speak your heart without feeling judged. So that’s exactly what he gave you.
“I won’t judge you. I promise, my love. Tell me what’s botherin’ you. Maybe I could help in some way?”
“God, I feel like a piece of shit. Why did I lie to him in the first place? He’s gonna be so mad.” Your mind swirled full of all the awful things that could happen after you told him you’ve been lying to him for two weeks. However, before your brain could stop you, your body made a sound.
“Parents.” You carefully start.
Harry focuses his eyes on you, to hear your soft voice.
“They’re here.”
Harry’s facial expression turns to a confused one. “Why are they here?” He thought.
“I wanted them to meet you.” You explain, as if reading his mind.
“What?” Harry is full-on shocked now, wondering why on Earth you hadn’t told him before.
You were afraid to let your eyes see him full of anger, so you pressed your face deeper into his naked chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I finding out just now?” Harry wasn’t angry at you. He was just shocked and confused, but in your head you thought he was in a rage with you.
“I-I didn’t want you to worry for nothing. I knew yo-you’d get anxious about meeting them for no reason.”
“What do you mean ‘for no reason’? They’re your parents. What if they don’t like me? Then you’ll leave. I can’t fucking be without you, Y/N. How do you expect me to be calm about meeting your parents?” He was now getting frustrated at you for thinking that lying to him was an answer. He was frustrated, but even now he wouldn’t raise his voice at you. You made an agreement after your first fight to figure out your disagreements in a civil way. No yelling. No throwing shit. You weren’t kids having fits. You were two mature people figuring out their shit without getting aggressive about it. That’s what made you respect Harry so much. No matter how mad he was, he always kept himself together.
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You’d get anxious, when, in reality, they already love you. You’d get nervous for nothing. I wanted you to enjoy the tour without constantly worrying about meeting them.” You tried your best to get your point across, while still being pressed against his chest.
Harry didn’t say anything for a while, probably thinking it through. His hands found its way back into your hair and started playing with it.
“What if they won’t like me when they get to know me better?” You could feel the notes of insecurity and genuine fear in his voice. You finally ripped yourself from his body and took his face in your hands, making him look at you.
“They will only love you more, Harry. You’re the kindest, sweetest, the most loving and caring person I’ve ever met. You love me so dearly, and you always put me first. What else could they ask for in their daughter’s boyfriend?”
“Could you also add the fact that I fuck you well to the list?” Harry slowly spoke up, as his lips found their way to your neck. You were relieved to hear him joking. You laughed through a moan and pressed his head deeper into your neck.
“Do you? Sorry, I think you’ll have to freshen the memories for me to add it to the list.” You tease him, knowing exactly what follows.
Harry lets out a growl and picks you up immediately, swapping your places and pressing you against the wall.
“Let’s freshen the memories then.”
Throughout the whole day, while Harry was fidgeting around, getting ready for the concert, you were texting your mom, telling her exactly how and when to get into the concert hall.
Harry was now in his make-up chair getting his hair styled one last time. He looked at one particular spot through the mirror, while you stood next to him.
“Baby.” You mentally scolded yourself for telling him anything about parents coming to the show.
Harry kept staring at the spot, until you called out for him two more times, coming closer to his face with each time.
“Yes, love?” He asked in such a way, that made you look psychotic.
“Harry, you’re stressing out again, I’m not blind, okay?” You fold your arms and sit across his lap after the hair stylist leaves you two in the room alone.
His arms automatically find their way around your waist, just as your head does in the crook of his neck.
“You’re right. ‘M stressin’ out. Can’t help it. Want everything t’go well. It’s very important t’me. It’s our future, princess.” He spoke with such adoration that it made your heart flutter.
“They will love you. Wanna know why?” You asked.
“Why, angel?” He pressed a kiss on the crown of your head and breathed in the smell of your shampoo, closing his eyes in pleasure.
“Because I’ve never been happier.”
After sending Harry to the stage, you joined your parents in the balcony. Before doing so, you made sure to give him a good luck kiss and tell him that he shouldn’t feel like he has to act differently on stage. You gave him the old just-be-yourself speech and watched him walk onto the stage.
“Y/N, you’re finally here, we’ve missed you so much, love.”
Your mom hugged you, before letting your dad to do the same.
“Yes, dear. We took it for granted when you were back home. It’s so empty without you.” Dad kissed the top of your head and smiled at you.
“The music is so nice. Makes me want to dance.”
Your heart was full of pride in your boyfriend, who was now jamming to Golden on the stage.
Throughout the whole concert, your parents only shared a couple of words, fully mesmerized by the music playing and the young man dancing and jumping around the stage.
“What a wonderful young man that is.” Your mom said.
Your mind couldn’t find any other reason to why your mother referred to Harry as “a wonderful young man” other than the factthat she had no idea who on Earth was prancing around in front of them.
“With a great sense of humor, I must add.” Your dad mentioned.
You were so close to laughing out loud at their nescience.
When the concert was over, you made sure to text Harry straight away.
You: They love you.
Harry: It’s probably just because they know we’re already dating. They just don’t want to hurt your feelings.
You: Oh, trust me. They love you.
“Dear, the concert is over and Harry still hasn’t shown up. I know he’s a sweet boy, but it’s not polite to be so late to a meeting with your girlfriend’s parents.” Your father nagged, folding his arms.
“I have to agree with your dad.” Your mother seemed just as disappointed in your boyfriend.
“I’m sure he was busy.” You didn’t want to explain further, trying your best to keep a straight face on. It was extremely hard, especially when you were passing a huge sign with ‘HARRY STYLES: LOVE ON TOUR’ written across it.
Let’s just say, your parents’ faces were priceless when they saw you go up to the ‘wonderful young man’ they were gushing about and gave him a peck on the lips.
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julieloveupstead · 3 years
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"I'm Never Leaving You" - Upstead
Description: A story inspired by the events of the last episode of the season and what might happen in season 9 in Hailey and Jay's lives. I really hope you guys enjoy it.
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CHAPTER 1
- Are you sure you want to be there? - Jay asked for a split second, turning his head away from the road and looking at his girlfriend with worry. Hailey rolled her eyes, hearing the question once again.
- Yeah. I'm sure. - She answered in a hoarse and tired voice, and it required all the strength she had left after all the events that had happened today to sound convincing. Jay just nodded even though he was still worried, but he knew Hailey needed something to keep her thoughts diverted to something else, so he let it go.
Hailey knew that Jay was worried, that he wanted to help her, but she couldn't do anything about it, something inside her had changed after what had happened in that warehouse. She felt like she had reached a wall, like she was finally at her breaking point, and she didn't see how to turn around, how to get out of it and how to get back on track again. She did not know. Furthermore, she turned her gaze away from the window and looked at Jay, who was now driving, and watched him for a moment and though slowly returned her thoughts to the conversation that had taken place less than an hour ago in her-and for the past few weeks-their flat.
Entering the flat, she didn't know how she had managed to get there all right and without causing any accidents. She felt as if everything from breathing to walking was being done by someone else, and she was just watching, and it was only when she saw Jay at home and felt his tender touch on her shoulder that her emotional bubble burst and everything hit her. She could barely bring herself not to start crying in front of Jay. Standing there in the middle of the room, looking into her green eyes full of love and worry, she wanted to tell him everything, but it occurred to her how much she had let him down. And she was convinced that as soon as Jay found out what Hailey had done he would leave her and want nothing to do with her, and she would be left to live with the knowledge that she had once again hurt someone she cared about so much, loved so much. In truth, what she felt for him was unmatched by anything else, not even Garrett and her shared such a deep feeling as she and Jay did. What they have is something completely different, something special, something that could be something lasting. For the first time in her more than twenty years of life, she felt happy, loved and safe, and that's why she was in so much pain about what was happening now. And she was afraid of what would happen to her if Jay, after finding out the truth, slammed the door, and she was forced to be alone with her thoughts and guilt and self-loathing, and it was that fear so terribly paralyzing that she didn't want to tell him, wanted to lie to him, but a little voice in her head kept repeating to her the words Jay had spoken over the years of their partnership and being together:
"We're good. We're always going to be good."
"Hailey, I'd follow you anywhere"
"I'm not going anywhere really, I'm not"
"I love you"
And maybe that determined that she would take the risk and tell him everything after all, but that stupid panicky voice in her head repeating that he was going to leave her was circulating and even getting louder and maybe that caused her to say those words:
"Maybe we should get married"
The first time she said the phrase, she was surprised, and she saw the same thing in Jay's eyes. And so maybe it was too soon, maybe at the wrong time, but somehow she felt that this was what she really wanted to do. She wanted to spend her whole life with him and most of all she wanted to be the first to do something under the influence of impulse, under the influence of selfishness, and she wanted to stop at all costs something that was good in her life.
She didn't have to wait for Jay's answer because she knew he wanted the same thing, but he's too honest, too good to make decisions seeing her in this state, wrecked, barely holding on mentally, in a loop of conflicting emotions. And all he's done is saying that he's here and nothing and no one will bail him out, and he'll be by her side for better or worse without question.
Hailey in his embrace so strong and powerful, where she felt so safe let go of all her barriers and told her everything. Jay never once interrupted her but listened attentively, holding her close, so she knew he was beside her and not going anywhere. When she finished with fearful and weeping eyes she looked at the boy and waited fearfully for his reaction. She had expected everything from silence to an outburst of rage, disappointment and a slamming of the door after he left leaving her, but nothing like that happened. Jay invariably told her that he was there for her, that it wasn't her fault, that it was Voight's fault for taking advantage of her good and pure heart and still said he loved her and that they would work something out together.
She couldn't believe that Jay even after she told him that she had killed a man, that she had let herself be manipulated by their Sergeant, he was still there for her. Just when she thought she couldn't love him anymore she caught herself that she was wrong after all.
Hailey put her head against the glass and closed her eyes, wishing that this day was over and that everything that had happened today was just a bad dream.
- Angel - she heard Jay's warm whisper by her ear. Apparently she was more tired than she thought since she fell asleep. She looked with sleepy eyes at the man crouching on her side of the door, nodded and straightened up, looking around. - We are already outside the hospital - she nodded, recognizing the building. Jay held out his hand, which she accepted, and helped her out of the truck. Jay intertwined their fingers and squeezed hard.
Hailey tried to focus on the feel of Jay's hand in hers and how her body was reacting to it. How her thoughts automatically calmed, how a simple touch could cause something like safety. Hailey had learned from a young age that touch was something associated with pain, not love, and especially not with the notion of safety she felt with her boyfriend. And after what had happened today with Kim and what had happened in that damn warehouse, that was exactly how she felt. Like a confused little girl who was just waiting for the next blow and all she needed right now was to hide and close her eyes and pray that the nightmare would end.
But the closer they got to the building, the more it came to her that she would have to look into the eyes of her friends who would want explanations that she didn't want and couldn't say, and more than anything it terrified her to see the Sergeant. After what he forced her to do today, she didn't feel like looking at him, just thinking about him made her stomach clench, and she felt like throwing up. Suddenly, she let go of Jay's hand and ran to the side to throw up.
- What's wrong? - A worried Jay ran after her. He put his hand on her back drawing reassuring patterns and grabbed her hair to keep it out of her way. He was concerned about her condition, but felt helpless. Likewise, he wanted so much to relieve her, to take this burden off her, but he didn't know how to do it. - I am with you, Angel. It is all right now. I am here. - He repeated in a calm and tender voice, trying to sound confident so as not to show how much it hurt him to see her suffering so much.
- I am sorry - she whispered after a while, he had to strain to hear. Seeing Hailey like that broke his heart into a million little pieces.
- You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. It's okay. I'm here. - He whispered - Maybe you want to go home? - Jay crouched down beside Hailey and continued to make patterns on her back, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of his beloved suffering.
- No, we need to be with Kim, she needs us. - she said in a weak voice. When Hailey looked at him, he saw a new batch of tears running down her cheeks, and he really couldn't do anything to stop his own from flowing anymore.
- Hailey - he wanted to say something else, but Hailey interrupted him.
- Jay, please - she said, he could see she was trying with all her might to stop crying. Everything in him was screaming, he wanted to take her home, embrace her and never let her go and never let her suffer again.
- Good - he agreed, because what else could he do. - Are you ready? - he asked himself and when she nodded they both got up and headed for the building.
Entering the hospital, the first person they noticed was Will, who was waiting for them in the waiting room.
- 'Hey, how's Kim? - Jay spoke up, approaching his brother.
- 'She's still in surgery. Dr. Crockett is doing the best he can. Time will tell. The important thing is that she's fighting. - He said in a tired voice. Jay and Hailey nodded as they processed the doctor's words. Looking at Will, it hadn't escaped the two detectives' notice that he was standing in front of them in his regular clothes instead of a doctor's gown and from what Jay remembered his brother had the night shift today, and he hadn't said anything about schedule changes. Jay sensed that something must have happened, but this was not the time to ask. - Come on, I'll take you to your colleagues - Will moved off and Jay and Hailey followed him - Will Is V... Is Voight sitting there too? - Jay' couldn't help but notice how Hailey's body was holding its breath waiting for his brother's answer. He could also feel her all hurried up and with panic evident on her face, she looked around looking for the Sergeant. To support her, he squeezed her joined hand tighter and drew reassuring glances with his thumb to try and snap her out of her dark thoughts
- No, I don't think so. At least I haven't seen him, and I've been here for a while. - Will walking next to Jay replied with a shake of his head. - 'Are you okay, Hailey? - He asked, worried by the blonde's behavior. The doctor had to admit that he had never seen her like this before, and seeing how after his negative answer she let out a breath and relaxed a little he looked at his younger brother who only shook his head and by the look he knew he wouldn't know more, so he dropped the subject.
Hailey didn't even know how relieved she would feel after hearing that Voight was gone, but some part of her needed proof that the gray-haired man was gone and when she finally saw that in the hallway outside the room where Kim should have been after the surgery, that apart from Kevin, Trudy, some woman who she guessed and remembered from stories and from photos was Kim's sister, and she saw Adam sitting in the furthest possible corner there was no one else. Her body, though, slowly relaxed enough to be able to let go of her boyfriend's hand and approach them to quietly tag along.
Jay had been watching her vigilantly the whole time, he could see how the news that Voight was gone had reassured her and him too. He didn't yet know what she would do when she saw him, and he knew that sooner or later he would come here anyway. He hoped as late as possible, though.
- Hey, is Hailey okay? - asked his brother quietly, standing next to him.
- No - Jay didn't see the point in lying to Will. Jay knew that his older brother also liked Hailey a lot and that he was worried about her. He had been very happy when Will and Hailey had become friends and teasing the two of them about it hadn't been so terrible, and the sight of Hailey laughing when Will told another story from their childhood had been his favorite sound even before he and Hailey had been a couple. Now that they are together, Will is very supportive of him and makes sure he doesn't do stupid things, for which he is grateful. It's nice to know there's someone else besides him who cares about his Angel, and there's no one he trusts more than Will.
- So why don't you two go home? No one's going to get in to see Kim today anyway, and her condition won't change from the way you're here. - suggested the elder.
- No - nodded the brunet. - 'Hailey wants to be here. She needs this. - He explained in a whisper, looking at the girl sitting next to Kevin. She had always seemed small to him and even though he knew that Hailey was able to take care of herself, he felt a special care for her, but now it all had a different meaning. He sat down next to her on the plastic chair and pulled her tightly to him. Hailey snuggled into him, and he kissed the top of her head.
Everyone sat in silence waiting for any news on Kim, Hailey finally managed to fall asleep and Jay couldn't sleep. He kept having the recent events and the sight of Hailey suffering in his mind. He tried to think of ways to help her, but nothing sensible came up, which irritated him even more. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can't help his own girlfriend. How could he not notice how Voight was manipulating Hailey, after all, this was practically happening right in front of his eyes. That trip Hailey took to New York seemed suspicious to him, and he already felt an uncomfortable sense of déjà vue, and he did nothing about it. And that incident a few days ago where Hailey wanting to prove to Voight that our relationship had no bearing on the quality of her operations had entered that house without a warrant and the mere fact that he'd started meddling in their lives was enough to finally set off a clear red light for him. He should have talked to him then, but Hailey didn't want any more problems, so he let it go. And today as he separated them he felt a strange pressure in his chest, as if he felt something bad might have happened, but again he said nothing, did nothing. Now it came to him that what had happened, what his girlfriend, the most wonderful person, the woman of his life had gone through was his fault. He laid his head so that his cheek touched the top of Hailey's head and closed his eyes to stop the tears gathering in his eyes. How could he let this happen.
After some time, a characteristic hoarse voice reached Jay's ears, at which he put his arms around the girl, who was now sitting, or rather sleeping, on his lap. He didn't know what he should do now, but he knew that as soon as he saw Voight he would explode, and besides, he knew that Hailey wasn't ready to face the Sergeant, and besides, he himself wouldn't let that man hurt his Angel again.
- Will - he whispered to his brother sitting across from him. - I think we will go home after all, but I would like to leave without prying eyes. - If Will was surprised by Jay's question, he didn't show it, but just nodded and stood up.
Jay took Hailey in his arms bridal style and followed his brother.
- 'Jay, are you okay? - asked the elder once they were outside Jay's car.
Jay gently placed Hailey in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. He gently closed the door and looked at his brother.
- 'No,' he sighed and returned his gaze to the sleeping Hailey. The sight of the now peaceful girl soothed his shattered nerves, but as soon as he remembered her terrified look, her weeping face, her petite body trembling with terror. And the most shattering situation for him was the terrified look when Hailey was afraid that if he found out what she had done he would leave her and stop loving her, so she wanted to hold him by proposing to him. God, when he first heard her ask if he was going to get married his heart stopped, and he couldn't believe once again that such a wonderful, amazing person chose him out of all men, for every cop's dream job to spend his life with. Ever since he'd been with Hailey, he'd dreamed of nothing but proposing to her and then vowing his eternal love to her. He even already had a place picked out where he wanted to propose to her and get married. That's why he wanted so badly to say yes, but he knew from her face that it wasn't appropriate, that the proposal should be a special memory. And when he heard from Hailey what had happened, he knew he had done the right thing, even though it broke his heart. He closed his eyes as he felt tears come to his eyes again.
- 'What happened, Jay? - he asked as he walked over to his brother Will and put his hand on his brother's back in a caring gesture. - Something bad. - Jay looked at his brother, no longer fighting back tears. - Voight hurt Hailey, and I let it happen. Will, I couldn't see the most obvious signals, I trusted a man, and he hurt my Angel. I let Hailey... - Jay plugged his mouth, silencing the moan of despair that escaped from his throat. - Jay, what the hell are you talking about? - It had been a long time since Will had seen his younger brother in such disarray, which worried him, and knowing that Hailey wasn't in any better shape even more terrified him. What the hell happened out there? He asked himself this question while looking at his crying brother. - 'Never mind, I shouldn't say anything, it's just this thing, you know? - explained Jay quickly, realizing what he had just done. He looked at the redhead and wiped the tears from his cheeks. - Will, you don't have to worry about us. We'll be fine - he said, seeing the worried look in his brother's eyes.
- 'Okay, but if you want to talk then call me, you can both call me whenever you want. - Will offered, not convinced by his young brother's explanation. Jay nodded his thanks for the offer, then walked around the car and got in. A few seconds later, Hailey and Jay drove off.
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lilbabycee · 4 years
Text
brunch // steve rogers
↳ request:  oh requests are open? can I get a possesive stevie with a soft bratty spoiled reader? i'm sorry I'm such a hoe @donutloverxo​
↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader
↳ word count: 1.6k
↳ author’s note: i am a whore in a woman’s shoes and that is all
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you’ve got plans this morning. it’s rare for you to be the one vying to get out of bed but you’d promised bucky last week that you’d meet him for brunch today, and since it’s his first time going, you want this experience to be a lot of fun for him. 
(tony offered, but you knew that it would be a dire mistake if you left the genius billionaire in charge of it because he would’ve scared the poor man off)
regardless, you’re proud of bucky - he’s finally growing into his hollow shell, making it a point to go out of his comfort zone and broaden his horizons. 
so you’ll be damned if the sleepy - but still so strong? - supersoldier curled against your body with his arms wound tightly around your waist will stop his girlfriend from showing his best friend a really good time. 
(now that you really take it into consideration, that doesn’t sound quite right)
but you don’t care because steve’s being selfish and while any other time it would make you undeniably aroused, this is bucky and you don’t want to disappoint him. you hate that kicked puppy look in his steel-blue eyes, one that you recognize all too well because it’s the same look that you use to guilt-trip your stevie.
“steve, i gotta go get ready,” you murmur, running the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone. he’s still hiding those baby blues from you, long eyelashes resting light against his skin. 
you watch in mild amusement as his eyebrows knit together and he pushes out his full lips into a tiny little pout. it almost makes you want to coo at him. 
faster than you can comprehend, he’s flipped you around so that his chin is resting on your shoulder. he presses his lips to the bare skin of your shoulder and then settles back down behind you, evidently with no intention of moving. 
“no, baby,” he grumbles, the sound reverberating in his chest and, by extension, the column of your spine. a shockwave of pleasure runs through you at the feeling, your cunt clenching completely shamelessly because his voice in the morning is by far the most sinful thing that you’ve ever heard TM. 
it sounds like sandpaper, warm and rich and grating against the sharp edges of your stubbornness and sanding it down bit by bit until there’s nothing but smooth corners and round sides. 
you don’t have to turn around to know that the ghost of a smug little smirk is etched onto his face when he feels you shiver against the hard planes of his body. 
“you like that, hmm, doll?” he speaks again, lips right against your ear and the register of his voice somehow even lower than before. “you like it when i talk to you like that?”
“stevie,” you whine petulantly, your core throbbing again because he knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s not fair.
“tell you what, honey,” one of his hands leaves your waist to trail up and down your leg, the featherlight touches making your sensitive skin burn under his fingers. “you stay with me and i’ll speak to you like this all,” he draws out the word as his teeth catch on your earlobe, “you want, hmm?”
there he goes with the sandpaper again, patiently working away and getting almost embarrassingly close to wearing you down completely. yet something about the sultry drawl of his brooklyn accent makes you snap out of it because you’re supposed to be meeting bucky- 
so you take advantage of his slack hands and wiggle out of his hold, jumping out of your shared bed and making a beeline toward the bathroom. 
(you don’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of the rage that you know will be written all over his handsome face, so you only throw a sorry, daddy! at him before locking the door)
and when you step out in the outfit that you’d left in there last night, steve’s hazy blue eyes clear of their tired fog and become as bright as the sun shining through the slit between your drawn curtains. he stretches his arms out - you can’t help but stare at the muscles rippling underneath his skin - before resting them behind his head. 
his feigned nonchalance is almost entirely transparent; his eyes staying glued to your body while you fiddle with the silk ties on your top and the way that he runs his tongue over his lower lip doesn’t go unnoticed despite the fact that you’re slightly preoccupied.
“where’re you goin’ anyway, sweetheart?” his gaze roams downwards, lingering on the light and breezy material of your pink skirt. 
“brunch,” you reply softly, not even sparing him a glance because why did you buy this shirt if you have no idea how to fucking put it on. 
“right - with nat?” he says, squinting when he sees the stretches of exposed skin on your legs. his hand snakes underneath the covers and you’re fighting the upwards quirk of your lips as he so obviously palms at his erection.
“no, with bucky,” you throw out carelessly, proud of yourself because you’ve finally managed to wrap the white blouse around your body, tying the back into a bow. as you look up, you lift an eyebrow at the amount of unexpected cleavage it shows 
(but you’re not complaining because it looks so pretty)
your reflection makes you notice that you’re missing earrings and a necklace still, and some rings or something wouldn’t hurt…
what you’ve failed to notice is how heavy the silence in the room has gotten, the tension almost visible between the two of you. it’s when you retrieve your silver hoops that you realize that steve has gone awfully quiet, and you’re in the middle of putting the second one on when you meet his stare in the mirror. 
he’s now sitting up more than before, still slouching lazily while he watches you in a way that you can only describe as predatory. where steve’s eyes are usually the purest baby blue in the mornings, they’re now far past blueberries and into the territory of being the color of the hudson at night. 
it makes your eyes double in size as you watch him, his hand continuing to rub at his cock through the thin material of his boxers.
(the sight alone is ruining your new thong and you don’t even have the heart to be mad about it)
“bucky, huh?” is all he says, pulling his lower lip between his teeth briefly.
“yeah,” your voice is quiet but you know that he can hear it perfectly well. you also know that he can probably smell your arousal from where he’s sitting, a fact that doesn’t make you as embarrassed as you maybe should be. “told you last week.”
“must’ve forgotten,” he brushes you off dismissively, blatantly staring at the curve of your ass. “you always get dressed up this pretty for buck, baby?”
“no,” your response is shaky and you still haven’t turned around yet, continuing your conversation entirely with the reflection of your boyfriend sprawled out on the bed behind you. 
you decide that he looks like something out of a playgirl magazine and you love it. 
“you tryna impress bucky, sweetheart?” he probes with a jerk of his head, one of the corners of his mouth threatening a smile. “wanna dress all pretty and go be bucky’s little slut, hmm, baby? what happened to daddy?”
this makes you audibly choke 
(you can’t help but think that you’d like to choke on only one thing right now)
but steve pushes on like he never heard you.
“i thought you were daddy’s good baby. now you wanna be a little whore for daddy’s best friend? is that it, honey? leavin’ daddy here alone to go be a dirty fuckin’ slut for bucky? daddy was gonna let you ride his cock, baby, but maybe you should go ride bucky’s instead.”
you can’t deny the way that his condescending voice makes you grip onto your dresser for dear life, your legs threatening to give out underneath you as your skin overheats with desire. 
but you can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next - he’s set it up too perfectly for you.
“maybe I will, daddy.”
you know that he likes it when you mess with him, wind him up so tight that the spring inside his chest is in danger of popping off at any second. it gives him an excuse to fuck you into his mattress with your hands tied behind your back as you beg him to let you cum
(not that he needs one)
so when you think about it, the punishment that you’ll get for this is really for the both of you. you’re doing him a favor.
it’s too bad that you can’t say the same about your ass.
what feels like instantaneously, he’s up right behind you, pushing his very obvious erection against your ass. 
your waist is trapped between his hands until a hard smack lands on your ass, one that makes you jolt forward so hard that everything neatly lined up on top of your chest of drawers shakes and falls. 
you don’t even have the time to gasp before his thick thumb is shoved between your lips, the pad resting on your tongue as he strokes it gently.
“oh, baby,” he tuts, rutting into you harder and faster, his other hand roughly flipping up your skirt at the front to grab your cunt possessively. “my dumb little baby. you need me to remind you who this pussy belongs to? need daddy to tell you who owns your cunt, babydoll?”
his words make you clench in anticipation and the warmth of his hand seeping through the lace of your soaked panties makes your next words come easy.
“yes, daddy.”
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killuaisaprincess · 3 years
Text
Mi Amor
Gon isn't surprised to be woken by a blood-curdling scream. He isn't, but when amber eyes snap open, his sternum aches with how choked out it sounds. The way the scream lingers in the air, pained, so desperate. It cuts right through his muscle and skin and smashes through bone, making him jump out of the bed, instincts taking over.
He shouldn't have let Killua convince him they should sleep in different rooms. Sure, outright confronting him wouldn't have worked. Killua had been especially cagey all day... but Gon could've used something, anything... three different rooms would be too expensive. Then again, Killua had already accounted for that, and Alluka ended up in the same room with Gon, Killua a separate one. Gon should've pushed harder. Killua had been distant and weirder than normal... his smiles clearly fake for Alluka's sake.
His heart is pounding so loudly in his ears, fear, and rage trickling down in pools of sweat, hands clenched in fists of iron, veins popping. He was terrified someone was actually hurting Killua... with how he sounded... even though Gon knows Killua is more than capable of taking care of himself, in his sleep even...
Gon doesn't waste time. His adrenaline is spiked with fear; he punches a hole straight through the wall to Killua's room. It probably wakes everyone in the little motel up, including Alluka, but Gon doesn't care.
"Killua!"
Gon steps over debris from his newly created door, panic rising in his chest. His best friend was slumped over in a heap on his bed, legs entangled in a sheet, and slim digits grasping at his thin tank top as he gasps for air.
Gon pads across the room, trying to temper how loud his footsteps are as he rushes over, dipping a knee into the creaky bed, before settling down. He's slow with his movements, despite how much he wants to grab Killua and pull him into a bone-crushing hug. He tentatively brushes his fingertips against Killua's shoulders, lifting him up in hopes that'll help him breathe easier, ever so gently looking into those scared, broken eyes.
Those giant blue eyes blown wide open in fear, tears pooling at the corners, making Gon swallow his rage. To kill whoever hurt Killua this much a thousand times. Seeing that fragile look, feeling Killua shake under his light grip, and hearing his mumbles is enough to make Gon's heart split clean in two.
"No... no, please... I'm sorry... I'll be the perfect assassin... no more... please. It hurts. No more... please... I don't want to. I don't want to. I'm scared. I'm scared."
Like a mantra over and over, every word is another knife plunged and twisted into Gon's chest, making it hard to breathe. Killua... knowing Killua was in so much worse pain, had been in so much worse pain...
How.
Dare.
They.
He has to bite back every urge to tighten his grip.
Gon's hands are strong, strong, and rough; they have been since he was little, running around Whale Island, climbing trees, and befriending animals much larger than him. He makes sure to be as gentle as possible with every touch. Tugging his fingers up to brush some of Killua's sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes, the pad of his thumb pressing under Killua's cheek. Softly, tenderly wiping away some of those tears. There's a flicker of recognition in Killua's eyes, one that makes Gon's heart soar. He presses Killua flush to his chest, fingers draping across the younger's thin waist, protectively. Every touch is strong, but not in the way Killua is used to. Not strength that would restrain him and hurt him. Strength that would protect him, gentle, profound strength.
Gon rubs light circles against Killua's back through the soaked fabric of his over-shirt. Killua doesn't say anything, but Gon listens carefully, full of intent to every breath Killua takes. The heavy gasps like he's being plunged underwater, choked with sobs, slowly start to calm down. If it didn't get better Gon would have used the techniques he asked Leorio about.
Killua seems so tiny in his arms, pressing his face into his chest like this and sobbing. Despite the fact that they are relatively the same size, he seems impossibly small and fragile, and Gon tugs Killua closer, squeezing his eyes in pain, burying his nose in Killua's hair.
It hurts more than anything that he can't do anything more for his best friend; Gon wishes more than anything he could go back in time, go back and time and save Killua. A small broken child, crying on the cold dark floor, bleeding out. They are fifteen now, but whatever small time they have left of a 'childhood,' Gon won't let Killua suffer anymore... he won't be selfish this time.
"It's okay. I've got Killua... I won't let anything happen to him. I'll protect him, I promise. I've got Killua..."
His own mantra repeated over and over. He wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on Killua.
Killua's sobs eventually reside to a stop, only a few sniffles. Gon's heart still feels heavy, but when Killua shifts under him and Gon pulls away, offering Killua the biggest brightest smile he can.
The ashamed look on Killua's face as he rubs the heel of his palm under red puffy eyes makes Gon's heart break again.
"Kil-"
"I'm fine."
Killua snaps, voice hoarse, eyebrows pinched together, tears slowly welling up in his bloodshot eyes, and Gon can't take it. That pretty face being scrunched up in pain. The kind, gentle soul he loves more than anything distraught. When a sob tears from his lips, that's all Gon can take.
Gon tugs Killua right back, ignoring how he squirms, even weakly hits Gon in the chest. He shushes Killua will all the love he can, running featherlight touches against his spine. Killua shivers under him, and Gon's shirt is a mess of snot and tears by now, and Gon doesn't care. He just mummers soft reassurances to Killua. Over and over.
"It's okay. I've got Killua... it's okay, my love, it's okay."
Killua stiffens, and Gon freezes, his breath catching in his throat as Killua looks up, confusion flickering in those perfectly beautiful eyes. Gon's heart feels like breaking again because Killua is confused. He's staring wide-eyed and dumbfounded.
"W-what? My... love...?"
Gon can't take it. That Killua would be confused by something Gon feels so truly. It's because of them, them, and their sick, twisted, hateful love.
"Did you bonk your head, stupid?"
Gon shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Killua's, grinning widely, his small dimples showing, fingers tugging Killua in closer and never letting go.
"Nope! Killua is my love! Killua's my everything! My sunshine! My moon! My stars! My sun!"
Every word he fills with strength and love, love they never gave him, as Killua's blotchy cheeks, pale ivory, and pink, go red. It's beautiful. Killua's beautiful. Gon doesn't want him to be in pain anymore. Some might think it nothing more than childish adoration, making him say something out of a romcom. That's not it at all. Despite what it seemed, his childish nature, and baby face, Gon was intelligent, and he knows with all his heart he loves Killua.
Killua blubbers, those long slim beautiful fingers, digging into Gon's shirt as he buries his head into Gon's shoulder. Gon smiles so softly, fingers petting Killua's locks of hair. Killua is light as a feather, really, but the weight of his head and body craning into Gon makes Gon's heart skip a beat. He hums happily, tracing circles around Killua's bony shoulder blade. He isn't even sure how long they stay like that... Gon feels his eyes get heavy a few times before he shakes himself awake.
Killua's light breathing and drooling all over his shoulder makes Gon peer down fondly as he lifts Killua up with ease, warmth ebbing in his chest. He wouldn't let Killua have any more nightmares, not tonight, not ever; he'd never let the Zoldyck's touch Killua again.
Gon walks through the hole in the wall, sort of sad he can't see the cute little blush that will bloom across Killua's features when he tells him he punched a hole through the wall for him, but Gon supposes he can wait. To alas also be scolded too... although he might already get scolded as big blue eyes stare at him, Alluka standing there in her pink pajamas, worry pooling in her eyes.
Alluka must have heard her brother's screams, now and before; she probably always worried about him... So Gon grins, ending up on the side of the bed almost falling off, Killua pressed against his chest, Alluka on the other side, hugging her brother from behind. Gon lovingly caresses Killua's cheek, and Alluka yawns, peering at him through sleepy eyes.
"You really love big brother, huh?"
"Mmm. I love him lots."
Alluka grins, slowly closing her eyes.
"Nanika's glad, so am I."
Gon smiles, although she or Killua can't see, reaching over and tugging the sheet over her and Killua more, leaving one of his hands to rest on Killua's waist, the other Alluka's shoulder.
He was glad too.
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