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kookslastbutton · 9 months

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) l ch. VI

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,192

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), kook gets pissed, jk mother is asdhjf!, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, manipulative parent, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc, mild sexting, sexual content

Sexual warnings: bl*wj*b, jk c*mes on her t*tt*es, d*rty talk

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: um so this got over 6k which i know isn't amazing but for me its big deal okay?! haha! Anyway Part VI here we go! No flashbacks in this chapter because of ch.V buuut, I have a little gift for you and me. Hope you enjoy!! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind 😙

<< ch. V ༓ ch. VII >> | series masterlist

Living in the country for over thirty years, the Jeons were known to be excruciatingly slow and cautious drivers. The town was tiny, roads were narrow, and no one was ever in a rush to get anywhere apart from maybe the farmers market.

Once when Jungkook first got his license he took one hand off the steering wheel and his mother almost had a heart attack, saying it was “reckless of him to put them in danger”. It was from that moment forward that Jungkook always made sure to drive at 10 and 2 or 9 and 3 when his mother was in the car. His father on the other hand didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t go above 30 mph.

Jungkook was counting his lucky stars when he finally got his own car and the chance to move to the city where he could drive how he damn well pleased–responsibly of course. He had recently finished his Master’s studies and was offered a job as an economist in a major medical corporation. The only catch was that he’d have to relocate to Seoul which ended up being more than fine with him.

His parents moaned and groaned that he wasn’t sticking around but his mind was made up. He moved out of his parent’s tiny town one late June and headed to the city where life moved to a whole new beat.

Ten years later, Jungkook finds himself gripping the steering wheel with two sweaty hands again. Kudos to his parents who have been telling him which way to turn and how fast or slow to go for the past fifteen minutes. He honestly should have picked a brunch spot closer to home to avoid all the madness. Walking would have done them good.

“I’ll never get used to how you drive down here,” Mrs. Jeon grumbles from the back seat. “All these sharp turns and six lanes of traffic going 50-plus miles an hour. It’s a wonder you haven’t all gotten in an accident yet. It’s like I always say, the slower the better. You city folks just don’t get it.”

Jungkook peers in his rearview mirror before signaling to switch lanes. “We can’t afford to go too slow out here Mom. This is a highway and dropping down in speed will cause a safety hazard just as bad, if not worse. Environments are different out here than in the woods.”

As Jungkook merges to the right, Mr. Jeon watches the surrounding cars from the back seat window. “Ah son, son, son!” He hollers and reaches for the ceiling handle.

“What? What happened?” Jungkook asks with panic. He flickers his eyes to the mirror again to spot his father's distress.

Mr. Jeon slowly releases the handle and lets out a lengthy sigh. “It's okay now, we’re good. You did good son. You moved over with so little space I thought you were going to hit the car now behind us."

"I told you it's a mad house out here!" Mrs. Jeon adds, tone thick. Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road in front of him and does his best to ignore the irritation bubbling within him.

"I know what I'm doing," he says. "I've lived here for ten years so can you guys please trust me? And stop with the driving advice and yelling every time I do something."

"We're just trying to help Kookie."

"Well, you're not alright?" The snap in his voice has Jungkook's parents sulking back in their seats in silence. "I want us to get to the restaurant safely and I can't do that when you're both shouting at me! So please just let me do the driving. Thank you."

God, if one more person calls him Kookie in that condescending tone he's going to lose it! Kookie was his childhood nickname but for some reason, it stuck to him like glue until he was friggin' 22 years old. He absolutely hates it and the only person remotely allowed to call him by it is his wife because she makes anything sound like honey to his ears.

The next five minutes are nothing but awkward silence and the sound of tires running on hard cement. Jungkook checks his phone—there's still a good ten minutes left according to the GPS. He moves to turn the radio on to break the eeriness of the drive when an incoming call pops on his car screen.

"Who's that? Who's calling?" Mr. Jeon pipes up.

"It's __." Jungkook hits the answer button. "Hey honey! You're on speaker." He smiles a big, wide grin that says nothing less than he misses you.

"Hi! I'm on my lunch break and thought I'd give you guys a call. I'm stopping at the grocery store tonight, after work. Anything you need?"

“Some booze would be nice!” Mr. Jeon echos and looks at his wife who merely shakes her head. He hasn’t had a drink in twenty years due to his high blood pressure, yet he’s still making the same damn jokes. “Got any Soju? Or maybe Bokbunja?” He chuckles at Mrs. Jeon’s sour face.

Jungkook pays his dad no mind and replies to you. “Uhm….we're low on milk again. I drank the last one yesterday.”

"You went through all those gallon jugs in a week?!" You'd think you'd be used to the amount of dairy your husband packs away but every time, it shocks you as much as the first. You married a milk-lovin’ machine.

Jungkook chuckles. "I'm sorry. I can get them for you if you want. We're on our way to get brunch, then hitting the bookstore for Dad, and after we'll swoop back home. I can pick it up along the way.”

“No need, I’m already going out later so I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of. How’s work going?” He’s hoping it’s not hectic given the fact that last week was an absolute sandstorm. He distinctively remembers you coming home with nothing more than tired feet and dark circles under your eyes. He drew you a bath that night.

“Eh, so-so. I have a meeting with my boss later but besides that, it’s the usual. I wish I could have come to brunch with you guys. I feel bad I’m missing it.” Well, you do and you don’t. If Jungkook was planning on talking to his mom about the happenings of last night you wanted to be around for support but it was also a matter that should be between a mother and her son.

“Us too, but we’ll see you ton–shit!” Jungkook slams on the break when he sees he’s about to crash into a black SUV. Everyone’s seatbelts lock at the sudden jerk. “Sorry, sorry!” He checks the mirror to find his parents clinging to their seatbelts.

“Are you guys okay?! Jungkook?!”

He scans all around him to find rows and rows of cars all trying to merge into each other’s lanes. Some are coming from the exit nearby whereas others are trying to squeeze through people in hopes to get ahead.

Dammit, Jungook cruses to himself.

“Yeah, we’re good honey. Everything’s okay but we’ve hit a traffic jam. I’m not sure why since it’s literally 11:40 a.m on a Wednesday but looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”

“We’d never have this problem at home.” Jungkook hears his mother mumbling under her breath to which his father replies with a nodding of his head. “If it weren’t for all this nonsense we’d be there by now.”

“Absolutely. We’d be there fifteen minutes ago,” his father adds with his hands in the air. “Isn’t there some kind of way you can get around this son, like a shortcut?”

Ah yes, shortcuts on the highway. Why didn’t he think of that? Let him just push the button that says flight mode and–no! Having enough, Jungkook holds his foot on the break and twists his body around to face his parents.

“Alright listen to me right now. This is not Tiny Town where there are a million dirt roads that pop from anywhere and all seem to lead to one other. Everyone drives at least seventy out here and that’s just the way it is because this..." He gestures outside the windshield. "This is what happens! We all get stuck in this congested funnel! But if you two can think of a way to get out of here that doesn’t involve attempting to bulldoze other cars, I’m all ears. Until then we’re going to sit here and talk about the weather because there's nothing else we can do!"

Jungkook looks back and forth between his parents. Mrs. Jeon simply stares outside her window while his dad gives a slow nod in understanding.

"Is it really that bad?"

Jungkook relaxes his body back to face the front when he hears your voice. "Yeah, it's pretty bad __." He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. This is going to be a very long day.

"Nice out today. Mind if I roll down the window?" The traffic hasn't got any better and it was starting to get stuffy in the car. Mr. Jeon desperately needed some fresh air in his face.

"Mhm yeah, go ahead."

"How about some music? Find out what's on the radio will you." He sticks his arm out the window, letting the gentle breeze hit his skin. When the first song blares through the speakers, Jungkook's mother breaks her deafening silence.

"Dear god! What music is this?"

Mr. Jeon immediately perks up. "It's PSY! Turn it up! Turn it up, boy!" Jungkook appeases his father's wishes and turns the knob a few more notches. "Oppa Gangnam Style! Eae eae eae e, sexy lady!"

Hearing his dad singing at the top of his lungs has Jungkook rubbing the side of his head. It's not that he sounded bad but he was singing so loud that everyone around them started pointing, laughing, or rolling up their own windows. "Dad, people are going to get annoyed. Take it down a little."

Deeply immersed in the song, Mr. Jeon continues singing regardless of his son's request. "Op, op, op, op, oppa Gangnam Style!" He starts rocking in his seat which causes a few middle schoolers in the car next to them to pop out their phones.

"Dad!" Jungkook hollers when he notices the kids taking pictures. If doesn't put an end to this now, his father's face is going to be trending all over the internet with god knows what filter.

"Op, op, op, op, on on on on!"

"Dad stop!" He tries again, this time turning the music down. Mrs. Jeon attempts to calm her husband down too, placing a hand on one of his arms but it doesn't take much for it to be ripped out of her grasp. Mr. Jeon ends up nearly whacking his wife in the face due to all his energetic dancing.

"Erotic sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam Sty–hey! Song wasn't done yet!" Jungkook's dad never looked so offended in his life. If he had adjusted his gaze just a few inches to the left he'd see the group of kids, the ones taking photos earlier, giggling to one another. But he was too pissed at his son for crashing his party that it went to the wayside.

"Honey, you were causing a disturbance," Mrs. Jeon says.

"A disturbance? In this traffic jam, I'm the disturbance?" He refuses to believe he's the annoyance when they've been in the middle of a highway, moving at 5 mph for the last hour. PSY has recently become his favorite singer and not enjoying himself would have been an absolute tragedy in his opinion. "It's all of you who should be thanking me for offering some shred of entertainment at times like these."

"The entire population of South Korea is going to be thanking you then." Jungkook creeps forward as soon as the car in front of him moves up a ways. Finally moving again, he hums.

"Hey!" An abrupt voice calls from a slight distance. Two teenage boys pull up in a Jaguar, greasy grins on their faces. "Great singing Grandpa! Really know how to move!" The one in the passenger seat flashes his phone playing a video of Jungkook's dad online.

"Wha–how–What?! You delete that right now!" Mr. Jeon is stunned, tripping over his words at the shock of himself actually being the center of the internet. The video is unexpectedly clear.

"Just ignore them, Dad." Jungkook rolls up all the windows in the car and inches up the best he can to get the teenagers out of direct sight.

"But-but how did they do that so fast? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"It only takes seconds, honey," Mrs. Jeon sighs, realizing her husband has become famous over a re-rendition of a PSY song. Of all things, it had to be that.

"I'm starving."

"Me too."

Jungkook glances at the time–2:40p.m. It's now been three hours of sitting in traffic and they've only moved about ten miles. What on earth is congesting the highway this much?

"Maybe we should take one of these exits." His dad scrolls through the map on his phone. "Says there are a few restaurants down exit 6A."

Jungkook considers the idea. He wants to get off the highway, yes, but so does everyone else. The exit his dad is talking about is off the far right lane which means he's going to need to shove in front of everyone's way.

"You sure it's a good place? Wherever it is you're looking?" The reason why he asks is that his dad is notorious for leading them into the most ruin down places. The last time he was in charge of directions, they ended up in front of an abandoned pizza shop.

Mrs. Jeon takes the phone from her husband's hand and swipes through the photos of a quaint restaurant. "It's not bad," she concludes. "And if it means we can get out of this mess, then I'm with your father on this one."

Two against one. Jungkook turns his signal on and waits for someone to let him over. He earns a few honks when he manages to squeeze his nose over but does his best to give an apologetic wave.

After a few more lane changes he gets in the exit lane. He isn't the only one planning to take exit 6B though, being that there are at least twenty other cars waiting in line.

"Maybe we were better off back where we were. All these people want to get off the same place. If we keep going there's bound to be another exit with far less traffic."

Really? Jungkook feels himself ticking again. After all that shoving to get over here and this is what he gets? No, he's not moving back over. They're going to wait in this stupid lane until it gets them to where they originally agreed.

"We just got here and we're not moving back anywhere. This lane should clear up in less time than it would take to go back on the main highway," Jungkook says. "Also, I probably don't need to clarify this but, we're not going to make it to that bookstore you wanted, Dad."

"It's fine, son. We'll go another day."

Which means tomorrow, Jungkook half grumbles to himself. His parents are here for another day after all and he knows his father well enough to know that "another day" really means the closest day possible.

Despite its size, the restaurant his parents choose is charming with its floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and giant, bay windows. The odd hanging plant is spread throughout the open dining space as well, perfectly setting the mood of serenity.

The restaurant only seems to hold about a dozen people inside, however. So thinking it is best to avoid sitting in an overly crowded space, Jungkook asks for one of the tables outside.

“Oh now this is lovely,” his mother praises, pulling her chair up to the table. Jungkook can’t describe how relieved he is to finally hear something positive after hours of nonstop grumbling.

Mr. Jeon takes a seat next to his wife and across from his son. “I just saw someone get Samgyeopsal and it was huge! Let’s get that to share.”

His enthusiasm is short-lived when the scrunched-up face from his wife says she's not a fan. “That's too much food! We still have to be hungry for dinner so we can eat with __."

"Mom's right," Jungkook agrees reluctantly. "__'s stopping at the grocery store after work so we can prep for dinner tonight. I know traffic slowed us down so we're eating at a weird time but it's better we go with something light."

"Oh well, we can always take some to go! Surely __ will enjoy some beautifully grilled pork!" Jungkook's father is adamant. He wants nothing more than a heavy meal after being stuck in the car all morning.

"__ doesn't like pork Dad. And we all know as soon as we get a whiff of it cooking there's not going to be any leftovers."

"Alright, alright," his dad concedes. "I guess I'll try their bibimbap. What are you having hon?"

Jungkook checks his phone messages while his parents make small talk over the menu. You texted him earlier to see how traffic was holding up and he only able to get back to you minutes ago.

Wifey ❤️ : So I'm guessing you haven't talked to your mom yet?

Jungkook: No, haven't brought it up. She seems fine though with the way she's been acting. It doesn't take much for her to go back to her usual self

Wifey ❤️: Her usual self being...?

Jungkook: You know, really particular.

Wifey ❤️: So she's complaining again. I'm sorry 😞

Jungkook: When I was talking with her on the phone before we left, she was much more careful about what she was saying. I expected it to still be that way now. Must have been a mood.

Wifey ❤️: Sounds like she wasn't sure how you'd be reacting after what happened last night. Maybe she's just reverting to back what she's used to because she's unsure what else to do or say. I'd still try finding a way to talk to her. Does it seem tense?

Jungkook: Yeah, you have a point. But Mom's also had a good way of sweeping things under the rug. It's not tense but it's just uncomfortably normal?

Wifey ❤️: Hmm, strange. And your dad's fine?

Jungkook: Honey...have you been on any social media in the last half hour?

Wifey ❤️: No, why?

Jungkook: Might wanna check. We had a little incident while in traffic. I'm still in shock honestly 😅

Jungkook waits for you to find the video of his dad. He already had the guys blowing up his phone from it so he's surprised none of them at least forwarded it to you.

Wifey ❤️: oh my god! Jungkook what happened?! 😂 I hope you're prepared for your students to be all over this

Jungkook: oh shit, that didn't even cross my mind 😩 also it's not funny honey! Listening to my dad singing eae e sexy lady was traumatizing enough. Now I have to see and hear it every time I pop open my phone or some teen punks show it to me!

Wifey ❤️: Aw Kookie, they're just being kids...try not to overthink. And you know those videos come and go. Your dad will be at the bottom of the chain by next week. Until then keep him away from PSY 😅 But I'm sorry you're having a day, I love you 🥺

Jungkook: I MISS YOU SO MUCH 😭

Wifey ❤️: [sent an image]

Fuck! Jungkook chokes on his spit when he sees a blurry close up of your cleavage. Thankfully his parents are still too occupied by the menu that they didn't notice.

Jungkook: sexy af but this isn't the time to be sexting me baby!

He nearly saves the photo if it weren't for the fact that he already had an album dedicated to very sensual *ahem erotic* photos of you. You had let him take them himself —best motherfuckin' birthday ever.

Wifey ❤️: oh adhjjhj, sorry!! That was an accident. I'm such a klutz. This is what I meant... [sent an image]

"What's going on over there?" Jungkook merely glimpses at the new image before whipping his head up, hearing his mother's, sharp tone.

"It's just __. She's asking about groceries again."

With slightly narrowed eyes, Mrs. Jeon continues. "We're about to order if you're ready."

Dammit. He'll have to reply to you later. Jungkook swiftly pockets the phone. "Okay yeah I'm good to go."

"This is delicious," Mr. Jeon says, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Best bibimbap I've had in a long time."

"That's great Dad." Jungkook stirs his noodles.

"Ah, where's the restroom around here?" He asks the waitress as she walks by. She tells him it's in the restaurant, all the way to the back. Mr. Jeon pushes his chair from the table and excuses himself. "All that broth has me needing to go."

"Yes yes, just go." Why his father needed to explain himself every time he needed to use the restroom is beyond him. Jungkook peers at his mother, taking her time eating her own bowl of noodles–they ended up ordering the same thing. "How is it?" he asks.

"It's good."

"Not too spicy?"

"No, it's mild."

Jungkook gathers more noodles on his chopstick. He freezes halfway when he sees his mother eyeing him intensely. "Everything okay?"

Mrs. Jeon folds her hands in her lap. "It's occurred to me that we still have an elephant in the room. I was hoping we'd be able to talk about it while your father browsed the bookstore. But plans changed."

And here he thought his mother had been playing down last night when really she was biding her time. "You know Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes right?"

Mrs. Jeon nods. "I know it's not the most convenient of times or places, but I'm afraid if we delay it won't get discussed."

"Okay." Jungkook sets his chopsticks down. "Well...where do you want to start?"

"An apology would be nice." Her voice is mellow but the words are a clear demand rather than an offer. Of course, he wants to apologize to her for all the things he accused her of last night. But he wasn't expecting her to be this forward with it, especially since she was guilty of plenty herself. "I'm waiting Kookie," she coos, taking a sip of water.

Jungkook knits his eyebrows in response, unsure of what he's hearing. His mother looks far too relaxed about this whole thing. He decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're right," he starts. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn't have spoken that way and I'm sorry for making you leave. I think you and Dad showing up all a sudden threw me off and I reacted poorly."

Mrs. Jeon cracks a tight smile and reaches for her son's hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I accept your apology." She gives his hand a squeeze before moving to pick up her chopsticks. "Now that we got that settled let's talk about the reunion. I'm thinking about talking to–"

What....the fuck? His mom did not just glide over this whole issue. She did not just put everything on him. And she did not just bring up that damn reunion again, which he's made very clear he wants nothing a part of. "Is that all you wanted? For me to make my amends with you?"

"What else would there be Kookie?" She scoffs, eyes wide.

"Goddamn it." He struggles to maintain a hushed voice. "Can you please stop calling me that? And what the hell do you mean 'what else would there be'? I'm not trying to put the blame on you but there's a good amount you should be saying to me too."

"What things are you referring to? Don't tell me this is about the reunion again. Look, whatever it is that I said was because I just want to see you more. And no more swearing. You know I don't like that kind of language."

"How can you be like this?" Jungkook can't stop himself. He figured his mom and he would have a better, heart-to-heart than this. It makes his skin crawl that his mother continues to play the victim. "It's genuinely shocking me how....do you even love me?"

Mrs. Jeon pauses at that. "Of course, I love you Jungkook. Why–why would you ask that?" She blinks back the slightest hint of tears forming along the edge of her eyes. Never in a million years did she think her son would doubt something this crucial.

"I feel like–"

"Feel what? What is it?"

"I feel like you care more about what I can do for you than you do me, as your son." Jungkook sniffs. This is a lot harder for him to say than he imagined. "There's been so many times that you've–"

"Don't say this honey! I care about you very much!" She reaches for his hand again but he yanks it away. "What are you trying to tell me?" His mother waits for him to form the rest of the sentence.

Jungkook hesitates to look at her straight on because behind what appears to be concerned eyes is disbelief. She isn't taking any of this seriously. It's written all over her face, tone, and all the way down to the way she's focusing on an answer rather than his inability to comfortably talk to her.

"What have I done so many times?"

"Honestly at this point, what haven't you done?" With an icy glare, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore. The pot that's been brewing, deep in the darkest parts of him is finally overflowing and it's not going to be pretty to behold. "Do you realize how many times you chose your job, your status, and even your friends over me? And you make Dad go along with literally anything! Is it so horrible for someone to say no to you?!"

The couple next to them shoot uncomfortable looks his way, whispering to each other. Jungkook ignores it and starts counting with his fingers.

"Never once have you ever taken responsibility for showing up uninvited, nagging me about this that, and the other thing, making backhanded comments about my life choice, and most of all pretending our relationship is peachy fine. Well, I'm sorry mom, I'm thirty-four years old and I don't need to live by your rules! Our relationship is barely hanging by a thread and being quite real, it's __ and Dad who are the ones clinging to that thread, making sure it doesn't completely snap."

Mrs. Jeon opens her mouth to interject but Jungkook doesn't allow it to happen. It's not exactly intentional that he's pouring out so much in the middle of people's lunch. Still, he's been shoved over a steep cliff, head first.

"I'm sorry mom, I don't know how many times I need to say it. I don't enjoy any bit of this. It's just been a long stretch of–"

"That's enough! I don't want to hear any more." Mrs. Jeon immediately grabs her purse and twists her neck every which way. "Where's your father? I want to leave."

"Mom I'm trying to talk to you! Why won't you let me talk?"

His mother doesn't reply. She doesn't look at him. It's the silent treatment, Jungkook concludes–it's fucking irritating. "I'm not trying to be hurtful," he says, forcing himself to calm down. "Mom look at me."

She doesn't move.

It only takes seconds for their waitress to near her way up to the table with anxious steps. "I'm sorry to be doing this but unfortunately, we've received a few complaints of a disturbance out here." The young girl clasps her hands. "To ensure all our guests are comfortable we're going to need to ask you to take your conversation elsewhere. I'm really sorry."

Fuck. How embarrassing. Jungkook clears his throat and stands up from his seat. "We understand and are genuinely sorry for the commotion. We'll pay at the front and be on our way. Thank you for waiting our table."

The young girl gives a nervous smile and retreats inside the restaurant. Jungkook makes a note to give her a generous tip.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Mr. Jeon rushes over, hair blowing over due to the breeze. "I heard there was some inconsiderate party out here airing out their dirty laundry for all to see. I tell you, people these days don't know what privacy means anymore!" He shakes his head and takes a seat.

"Get up Dad we're leaving."

"But I'm not done my–––oh shit." Mr. Jeon clenches his teeth. "You two?"

Mrs. Jeon gets up from her chair, still wordless, and walks towards the parking lot. "I'll get this Dad." Jungkook stops his father from pulling out his wallet. "It is best if you go try to ease Mom. I don't think she'll be talking to me for a while."

Mr. Jeon puts a hand on his son's shoulder. It's his way of offering comfort. "You're mother has made things difficult for you, Jungkook. I'll try getting through to her. In the meantime don't let this eat you up. It's been a long time coming."

Jungkook doesn't get home until quarter past six. The drive home was better than the drive to the restaurant, but hitting the notorious five o'clock traffic slowed them down once more. He also had to drop his parents at their hotel which was no easy task. His mother barely gave him a glance before hopping out of the car. The amount of guilt settling in his gut isn't going away any time soon.

"Hey." Jungkook finds you searching through the kitchen cupboard. "I hope you're okay with spice tonight! I got this really awesome–oh baby what's wrong?" You stop what you're doing when you see your husband come up behind you with sunken eyes. He wraps his larger arms around you, desperately needing your scent.

"I blew it," he croaks. "She's so mad at me."

"I'm sorry Jungkook. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." You turn in his arms to pull him into a full embrace. His nose tickles the side of your neck but you don't laugh. "You wanna tell me?"

Jungkook takes your hand and sits you both on the couch in the living room. "The morning started out rough with three hours of traffic and the two of them in the back seat, telling me where and how I should drive. Then my dad got unexpectedly famous off a PSY song. We finally got to some restaurant about half an hour west of here before 3pm. Everything was going okay until dad went to the bathroom."

"Okay," you say, scooting closer beside him. You rub small circles on his upper back as he leans forward on his spread-apart knees. "What happened?"

"Mom suggested we talk about last night so I said sure." You watch as Jungkook fiddles with his hands. "But she didn't actually care about a conversation or what I had to say. All she wanted, all she expected, was for me to apologize to her so we'd be okay again. It all came out after that and I feel so horrible about it. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant too."

"Jungkook..."

"I tried __. I wanted to be patient and to be a good son but she can't even look at me right now." He falls back on the couch, staring at the blank wall in front. "Dad's convinced it was bound to happen."

"You are a good son, Jungkook." You comb a few strands of his soft, ebony hair. He closes his eyes as you do. "You're mom's the one who needs to readjust her view."

"I never thought I'd yell at my mom about all that stuff. And certainly not in public where everyone is trying to have a pleasant lunch. I'm a grown-ass adult and I should have had better control of myself."

You settle into his inner shoulder, laying a hand on his chest. "Even grown adults have limits and your mom's far surpassed those limits. Don't blame yourself for this."

"Dad said the same thing."

"Well, that's two against one."

Jungkook smiles. Two against one, that's where he got that from. Not that you're the first person to use the phrase but he never used it as regularly until you moved in together.

"I missed you so much today. I don't deserve you."

You cock your head up as quick as the words fly from his mouth. "Don't you dare say things like that! You're a good man despite how awful your mother treats you." You lean your face near his, eyes wandering deep into his dark brown ones. "If you're not otherwise too tired, I'm going to show you how much I love you."

Jungkook opens his lids at that–apparently not too tired. You smirk and get off the couch.

"Here?" His classic doe-eyes peer down at your kneeled position. Seeing you settle this perfectly between his muscular thighs triggers an intense blood rush that goes straight to his dick. Jungkook didn't think he was going to get horny tonight but here he was with his half-harden length in your hands in the middle of the living room.

"Mhm." You position yourself just enough for him to have a clear view of your tits. You had taken both your shirt and bra off before starting. You know how your husband likes it. "That okay with you?"

Jungkook groans when you grip his cock harder, gliding it from the base to the tip in repeated motions. "Fuck yeah. It's more than okay." You giggle at how quickly your husband gets in the mood. He thinks you're the bitch in the bedroom? You quicken your movements.

"Oh shit this feels so good." He grips the couch cushion, keeping his focus on you. "Need that gorgeous mouth wrapped around me baby, please. Shit–"

You honor your husband's requests and trace your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip. Once there, you suck lightly before taking him in whole.

"That's it. Take my cock, fuck." Jungkook goes on to praise you as you bottom out. You gag a little at first being that you haven't done this in what....weeks? Damn. Whatever happened to the days when you'd literally go down on each other every day?

"We need to get you reacquainted with my cock honey," he teases, bucking his hips forward to push himself further into your mouth. "All these weeks without my cock in your mouth has you gagging all over me. Been it's been too long hasn't it?"

"Mm," is the only thing you reply with, the weight of his thick length dragging back and forth on your tongue. By now your pussy is pulsating like crazy and you're tempted to just get up and fuck yourself on him. But tonight was about your husband–you're going to make sure of it. And Jungkook loves nothing more than getting head with your bare tits in full view, obviously.

A few sucks later and Jungkook starts fucking himself into your mouth. They began as soft, needy bucks of his hips but now they're rough, full-force thrusts. His length shoves to the back of your throat and you moan desperately around him. "Did you miss my cock baby? I bet you did. My sexy wife....you're mine and you're gonna make me come, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are."

Your eyes water as you continue to take him, hallowing your cheeks the best you can. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping from his forehead. Your panties are so fucking soaked right now and your nipples are defiantly hard from sheer arsousal.

"God I'm so close baby. You're mouth is---fuck I don't even have the words. It's fucking magic! And your tits are so hot from this angle. Kinda reminds me of what you sent to me earlier. Can I come on them? I'm so close." Jungkook takes your broken moans as a yes and starts ramming into you two more times before pullout and covering your breasts with warm liquid. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunts, spilling himself on you.

What a mess. You look down at yourself. What a motherfuckin' mess and you love it. Jungkook pulls you into a passionate kiss, tongue rolling with yours in heavenly harmony. "Thank you for this," he says between kisses. "I'll help you wash up, I promise."

"Mm Jungkook," you pant. "I think I need you inside me."

Hey, he got his dick sucked and he creamed your tits–it's mama's turn now, or excuse you–wifey.

A/N: this got nasty whoops. not sorry. Anyway LMK what you think, thanks for reading! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind

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#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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holylulusworld · 4 months

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The one that got away (2)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, past unrequited feelings, regret, reunion

A/N: This is a little gift for @elle14-blog1 for her birthday. It’s today, so happy birthday, lovely. And, I decided to turn this story into a mini-series. 😁

Catch up here: The one that got away (1)

The one that got away masterlist

The one that got away. Dean scribbled the words on his notebook over, and over again during the conference.

He didn’t hear a thing you and your assistant or the other people said. All he did was stare at you, his former best friend.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he curses under his breath. “You are rocking that conference, huh? All eyes seem to be glued to you.”

“What?” You ask as Dean seems to talk to himself. “Did you hear me? I asked if you could hand me the laser pointer.”

“What?” Just now Dean realizes you are standing right in front of him.

“The laser pointer,” you sigh and point at the laser pointer. “You are trying to write with it. It’s mine and I need it for the last part of my presentation.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought it was my pen,” he sheepishly looks at the laser pointer in his hand. Dean huffs. He’s not himself today. Not at all. Usually, he’s controlled and can keep his shit together, even if his life is falling apart once more. Not today.

“No problem,” you fake a smile. “I know you like to grab shit that doesn’t belong to you and charm your way out of it.” You give him an icy smile. “So, enjoy the rest of the conference.”

Dean hums, and watches you walk back toward your assistant. He shakes his head. If only he could shake off the feeling that he lost something more than his best friend when he let you go.

His heart beats out of his chest when you look his way. You drop your gaze and pucker your lips. A habit he learned to love.

“She’s good,” the guy next to him tries to make conversation. “No wonder she got the promotion. Smart, cute, and pretty. A pity she doesn’t go out with colleagues…or anyone else. Maybe I should ask her out one day.”

“You better not,” Dean grunts. “I heard she’s got a boyfriend.” He dips his head to glare at the man.

“Really. Crap, I’ve missed my chance. I can’t believe she found someone. Last month she was still single.”

“Well, her best friend came back into the picture and laid claim on this beautiful woman,” Dean narrows his eyes, a silent warning for your admirer. “She’s taken, buddy. You should move on to someone else.”

The conference goes on for another two hours, but you are ready to hide in your bed and sleep for hours. The adrenaline helping you through the conference and the encounter is wearing off and you are just tired and heartbroken.

“Ready to leave this place?” Dean suddenly stands behind you to look over your shoulder. “I thought we could grab a snack or have dinner tonight.”

You turn around to face the man who broke your heart years ago.

“Do you honestly believe I want to have dinner with you? We haven’t seen each other for a year. Now we are meeting again, and you want what? Rekindle? Become my friend again? What do you want, Dean?”

He sighs. “Sweetheart, I know I hurt you back then, but can we not talk? I’ve missed my best friend. Please, give me one chance. If you don’t want to see me again, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Promised?” You size Dean up. “If I don’t like what you have to say, you will let me go and never bug me again.”

“I cross my heart and swear it, Y/N,” Dean crosses his fingers behind his back. He finally met you again, and he’d be damned if he risks losing you again.

“So…” Dean looks at the food in front of him. “How have you been? Any pets? Men? New hobbies?”

“I’ve got two cats,” you smirk darkly. “And they are not a hypoallergenic breed. If you get too close to them you’ll die.”

“I won’t die,” he smirks and scoots a little closer to you. “Only sneeze a little. Sneezing can be damn sexy, sweetheart. You can help me blow my nose and all.”

You chuckle and steal a fry from his plate, earning a slap to your hand. “Hey!”

“I don’t share my food,” Dean grunts. “I mean, if we were on a date, I’d share my food.” He snickers when you steal another fry. “I was joking, Y/N.” Dean hastily says when you make a face. “You really think the worst of me, huh? I didn’t change so much. I always shared my food with you.”

“I remember our last encounter vividly, Dean,” you snap at him and hate yourself for it seconds later. “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault that I was in love with you back then.”

“Back then?” He quirks a brow. “You mean, that you’re over me?” Dean shifts in his seat.

“Dean, it’s been years. Maybe I had a crush on you but—” you bite your tongue. It’s hard to think straight close to him. If you let slip that your heart still aches for him, he will break it all over again. It’s better to pretend that you don’t love him anymore.

“That wasn’t a crush,” he grabs your hand and holds it in his hands. “That was love…is love. I mean…” Dean sighs. “I don’t know how to describe it. But when I saw you today, you took my breath away.”

“Dean,” you whisper.

“No, no sweetheart. Hear me out. Back then I was a young man and a fool,” he squeezes your hand. “I know you still feel it, our connection.”

“Dean, stop.” You struggle to keep a straight face. “What’s past is past.”

“Maybe we could go somewhere else than the cafeteria to talk. Please,” Dean gives you a cracked smile. “I still know your favorite food.”

“I still know yours too,” you smirk. “Pie.” You both laugh at that. “You said something about Baby.” You dip your head. “If you offer a ride, we can have dinner together.”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #au!dean winchester x reader #au!dean

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ramblingoak · 4 months

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The Cardinal's Bride, Chapter 11: Confessions

~~ Please visit The Outlaw Brides Masterpost to catch up and read more stories from this world ~~

Thank you to @tasty-ribz for the wanted poster, @ghuleh-recs for the collage and @gothdaddyissues for the dividers! For some more amazing fanart check out: @missygoesmeow (1 / 2), @snail-shell2335 here, @vahvco here, @ghulehgwen here, @rabidghoul here, @nocterish here, @enjoy-my-swearing ( 1 / 2 ), @blacktie-whitenoise (1 /2), @z-xmyers (1/2/3/4), @foxybouquet ( 1 / 2 ), @delulluart here, _simpera_ on instagram and valkyrieinpink on twitter. Also thank you to @kissingghouls for all her help and emotional support.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ You finally arrive at The Ministry but Saltarian's men are closing in and threatening the lives of everyone that lives there...

Warnings: violence, angst, slight smut, NSFW 18+ only MDNI, 11k words

“So that’s his big plan? Kill the girl and blame the rest of us?”

Secondo didn’t bother answering his brother, he kept his eyes aimed out the window towards the street below. The sun was just starting to peek over the mountains in the distance and soon the city would wake up. Businesses would open, children would be dragged to the schoolhouse by their parents, drunkards would be groaning into the light and thinking about their next drink. He tipped back the rest of his own drink, the whiskey the only thing keeping his nerves calm.

“The end of the Church of Emeritus.”

“Well that’s a little fucking dramatic.” Secondo turned to look at his brother, not at all surprised by his carefree demeanor. Terzo didn’t care much about anything these days unless it was alcohol or someone to warm his bed. Still, the bastard should have some sort of reaction instead of leaning back in his chair like everything was fine. “Maybe that’s the problem, Saltarian and Copia are too similar.”

“He actually said the same about him and I.”

“Really?” The sound of the chair legs hitting the floor echoed around the otherwise quiet room. “You and Salty?”

“He said in a different world we could have been business partners.” He walked back to his desk and set his empty glass down with a thunk. “Not that it matters.”

“SÌ, it’ll be hard doing business with a dead man.”

“I’m not dead yet, fratellino.”

“Oh please, you think we stand a chance against Saltarian? Ten years has given him ample time to build up whatever army of mercenaries he has.” Terzo shook his head while he looked around in his coat pockets for a cigarette. “We haven’t exactly focused on recruitment in that time.”

“No, we have not.”

Secondo shoved a hand through his hair, groaning as he sat down at his desk. Papers littered the top of it, things he hadn’t had time to get to in the last few days. Things that might not even matter soon anyway.

“What are you thinking fratello?”

“I’m thinking we don’t have a choice.” He glanced up to meet Terzo’s eyes, the both of them glowing briefly from the flame of a match as he lit a cigarette. “I can’t risk everything for one girl.”

“Copia won’t be happy. From what Cirrus said he and Salty’s fiancé have gotten…close.”

“Copia will be lucky if I don’t skin him alive when he shows up. He’s dug his own grave here.” Secondo gritted his teeth as he thought over what Cirrus had told them when she’d gotten back. While she hadn’t seen the two of them together, or the girl at all, the other Ghouls mentioned that something had been happening between the two. Secondo hoped that if Copia was fucking the girl it was out of boredom and nothing else. Anything beyond that and Secondo would have an even more difficult time with what he had to do. “If we can get her to Saltarian relatively unharmed he’ll drop the matter.”

“He said that?” Secondo nodded in reply, his eyes down at his desk. While Terzo had no room to judge his decisions he still didn’t want to see the look in his eyes when he shared the rest of what Saltarian had told him. “So what, we just dump her outside of town for one of his men to grab her?”

“We’ll need to distract Copia I’m sure, but yes. He wants us to send her out on her own for them to get her.”

“Lucifer’s balls.” Secondo’s expression shifted just enough for Terzo to freeze, the front of his chair once more dropping loudly onto the wood floor. “Good luck with that.”

“What would you have me do, fratellino? Let Saltarian and his men destroy everything again? How many more need to die before you accept the inevitable?”

“And what’s that? The inevitable?”

“That we don’t belong here, as we were. That Copia’s fantasy of rebuilding our church is just that, a fantasy. Nothing more.” Secondo shot Terzo a glare when the younger man started laughing. “What?”

“Out of all of us I expected you to lose your faith last. I never expected you to consider turning in our own blood.”

“Then what would you do? Better yet, what would The Morningstar do, huh?”

“He wouldn’t give up without a fight.”

“That’s funny, I thought he gave up a long time ago.” Secondo immediately regretted his words, watching as the spark that had ignited in Terzo’s eyes at the mere mention of his past went out. “Terzo…”

“You’re right, I did give up. But Copia didn’t, he kept fighting. He kept believing.”

“Believing in what?! A cause that we dedicated our lives to? A Dark Lord that was supposed to reward us for our devotion, to protect us while we celebrated what he stood for?” He took a deep breath, lowering his voice before he continued on. “Where was Lucifer when our lives burned to ash?”

“I don’t know, but maybe Copia does.” Terzo stamped his cigarette out on the arm of the chair, smirking when he caught Secondo narrowing his eyes at the action. “I’d like to hear your plan now.”

“Considering what Cirrus said I don’t think we’ll be able to convince Copia to willingly give her up. Someone will need to convince her to do what’s best.”

“Which is what?”

“Leave Copia behind and move on with her life. She belongs with Saltarian, not a bunch of outlaws.”

“Okie dokie, so you corner her, scare her off and then expect Copia to just let her go without a fight?”

“I’m going to try to talk some sense into him first. You’re welcome to help with that, by the way.”

Terzo let out a sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head as he looked for another cigarette.

“You need Primo’s help, not mine.”

Secondo nodded but didn’t say anything. Primo was the smartest of all of them, getting away from here and living on his own. Although if Saltarian did go through with it and take them out he doubted Primo would be able to escape. He would just be the last Emeritus standing for however brief amount of time he lasted.

“Copia will either see reason or he won’t. I refuse to lose everything again. Especially over some meaningless girl Copia gives two shits about beyond getting the ransom for her.”

“And what if he doesn’t see reason?”

“Then he’ll be the first to die.”

“Wake up Principessa.”

“Hm?” You attempted to bury your face back under the warm blanket but Copia just pulled it away again. “Hey.”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It’s cold.” He grinned, throwing his duster at you as he got up. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Hurry up now, before everyone else gets up.”

With a groan you escaped the warmth of the blanket, quickly shoving your arms into his duster. Aether was sitting by the fire when you finished getting your boots on, smiling at you when you walked by. Copia was finishing saddling Brizio when you made your way to his side. The horse shoved past him to get to you and you laughed when Copia swore as he stumbled back a few steps.

“He likes me better I think.”

“First my Ghouls and now my horse. What’s next?”

You wanted to say ‘hopefully his brothers’ but decided to keep that to yourself. The imminent meeting with them was weighing heavily on you. Sleep had been evasive the night before as you worried over what would happen when you reached The Ministry. You once more found yourself wishing you could travel around like this with Copia and the Ghouls forever. Dancing by the fire every night in Copia’s arms…

It was a memory you wouldn’t soon forget.

“Should I get my horse ready?”

“No, you’ll ride with me.” He winked as he held out his hand for you, grinning when you didn’t even argue. “Up you go.”

Once you were both settled onto Brizio he directed the horse away from camp. The sun was just barely peeking over the mountains in the distance, casting warm light over the land and warming the temperatures up. You still found yourself burrowing into his duster and leaning back against Copia’s chest. He held onto the reins in one hand and kept his other arm tight around your middle, securing you as close as possible. You placed your hand over his where it rested on your side and smiled when he interlaced your fingers.

Another moment to keep with you as long as you could.

Copia didn’t stop until you were far away from camp, hidden in a clump of trees as the sun continued to warm everything around you. After helping you down he let Brizio wander where he wanted to. You both watched as the horse began to much on the sparse grass, unbothered by how heavy the air had become between the two humans with him.

“Copia?” You reached out to touch his elbow, flinching when Copia jumped at the contact. “What’s wrong?”

“Niente. It’s nothing.” He shoved a hand into his pants pocket and you could hear the clinking of stones and metal as he pulled out his grucifix. Copia let it dangle from his fingers for a moment, watching the stones sparkle in the morning light before stepping right up into your space. “I wanted to give you this away from prying eyes.”

Your mouth fell open slightly as you watched his face. His mismatched eyes were bright as they met yours before looking back down to the heirloom from his mother.

“I can’t…I can’t take this.” You winced when his face fell a bit so your hands quickly covered his. “This was your mother’s, you should keep it.”

“I want you to have it. As a token, as a symbol of what you mean to me.” He dropped his head and kissed the back of your hand before straightening up again. “I want you to know.”

You held your breath as he stared at you, your hands shaking a little bit over his.

“Know what?”

He took a deep breath and pulled his hands away, shaking out the chain a bit to untangle it. You stayed still when he lifted it up and placed it on you, being careful not to snag your hair in the metal. When it was settled he took a moment to straighten it and then held the silver piece on the end in the palm of his hand. You looked down at the symbol of his church, covering it with your hand to hold it between you after a moment.

“That I care about you, Principessa. Far more than I should.”

You couldn’t help but press closer at his confession, trapping your hands between you. His head lowered again and you let yours drop as well so your foreheads pressed together. Both of you stayed quiet for a moment, letting Copia’s words hang between you. It wasn’t until his free arm snuck around your waist to pull you closer that you felt brave enough to speak.

“I care about you too, Copia.” He made a small noise in the back of his throat as he pulled his hand away from the grucifix to cup your cheek. “I lo–”

His mouth silenced your next words, his lips hot and needy against your own. You wrapped both of your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off so you could bury your fingers in his hair. The kiss deepened quickly and you opened your mouth for him when his tongue demanded entry. He groaned when you nipped at his tongue and began to walk you backwards until your back met the nearest tree.

Copia’s kisses were dizzying like always, enough to make you forget what you had almost confessed to him. It had been bubbling up in you for days now and with everything that still laid ahead you wanted him to know. You needed him to know how you felt. With a gasp you pulled away, tugging on his hair a bit when he tried to lean back in.

“W-wait, I need to tell you something.”

He brought his other hand up so he could hold your face between them, his thumbs brushing across your cheeks as he looked into your eyes.

“Not yet. Soon, yeah?” He kissed your forehead when you tried to speak again. “Will you wait for me?”

You pulled away so you could catch his eyes again and your argument about wanting to tell him now froze in your throat. Did he feel the same way? Is this why he wanted to wait to hear you say it?

Did he want to say it too?

“Okie dokie.” Copia let out a burst of laughter at your use of his phrase. He started pressing sloppy kisses all over your face until you squealed and tried to push him away. “Stop, stop!”

He relented but tugged you close again, his arms wrapped tightly around you as his breath fanned against your ear.

“Soon. I promise.”

You nodded against him, clinging to him tighter than you could remember doing so before. After a moment you pulled away, brushing some of his hair back when you did. Truthfully you thought you’d wait as long as it took to hear him say those words. It wouldn’t change how you felt about him.

“Should we head back?”

“I think they’ll survive without us for a little bit longer.”

He tilted your head up and leaned in to kiss you, deepening it quickly when you wrapped your arms around him once more.

“How long are we going to be waiting around for them?”

“I have no idea.” Aether continued to pack up his cooking supplies, stepping over Dewdrop’s outstretched legs while shooting him an annoyed look. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I’d like to get back to The Ministry at some point in my life.”

“I thought you liked being on the road, you get antsy as hell when we’ve been at the casino for more than a week.”

Dew shrugged and looked around camp rather than answering right away. Aether wasn’t wrong, he did get antsy if they were at The Ministry for too long. He didn’t really know the best way to describe the feeling. It was part boredom and part just not liking being cooped up. There was always plenty to do there (Secondo was always more than happy to boss any of them around) but Dew much preferred being on the road.

It was a helluva lot more exciting than dealing with drunks that was for sure.

“Usually we don’t have as large of a target on our back.” Dew glanced at Aether when his friend froze while shoving things into his saddlebags. “I’ll feel better when this whole thing is over and we have that ransom money.”

“You don’t actually think that’s still going to happen do you?” Dew rolled his eyes when Sunshine came over and sat down beside him. “I mean, there’s no way Copia is just gonna give her up to Saltarian now.”

“Why the fuck not? And don’t say anything about love.”

“It’s because he loves her.” Swiss plopped down on Dew’s other side, grinning when the smaller man groaned. “He’s got it bad.”

“You sure it’s not an act? They didn’t seem happy when we left the farm.”

“Well they sure as fuck are happy now.”

Dew didn’t bother answering Swiss because he knew it was pointless. Whatever had happened before they left the farm had obviously been solved. Just watching them dance last night had been all he needed to see. It had made his chest ache a bit as he watched them while he had played the guitar and his friends sung every stupid love song they could think of. He was happy for Copia, and for his princess, if they actually did love each other. It would fuck up a lot of other shit in their lives but that’s why Dew made sure he always had plenty of ammo nearby.

“Alright so they’re in love, super. That’s fantastic. What the fuck are we gonna do about Saltarian?” Dew looked around at everyone, snorting when none of his friends met his eyes. “Also you all know that Secondo is gonna be pissed, right?”

“He’s already pissed from what Cirrus said.” Sunshine pulled out a knife and started picking at her nails. “We should go back to the farm.”

“And do what?” Dew shoved her shoulder when she looked at him like he was an idiot. “You honestly think any of us would be happy settling down and farming for the rest of our lives? What about rebuilding the church?”

“What about it?” Aether had wandered back over then and was staring down at the three of them. “If we don’t have the ransom money we don’t have a way to rebuild the church, do we?”

“I vote to go back to the farm, I liked it there.” Swiss grunted when Dew kicked at his leg. “Fuck, what?”

“You’re telling me that you’d all be happy to live out your days farming in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Dew looked at each of his fellow Ghouls in turn before throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’d rather not sleep in a barn for the rest of my life.”

“Some of us could probably sleep in the house, there’s plenty of room.” Sunshine turned and grinned at Dew before continuing, “Except for you though, Ethel hates you.”

“Fuck you. She just needs to get to know me.”

“Nah we’d have to build another house or something for all of us.” Swiss got up and stretched before holding his hand out for Sunshine to help her up. “I think Copia and Princess would want the house to themselves. Fill it up with a bunch of mini-Copias.”

Dew made a face before taking the hand Swiss now had outstretched for him, “Fuck, you don’t think they’d start having kids do you?”

Swiss yanked on Dew’s hand, jerking him roughly to his feet and laughing when he swore. With a quick move he hooked a leg behind one of Dew’s and then shoved him at the shoulders. Dew landed on his ass with a groan before launching himself at Swiss’s legs, bringing the man down roughly onto the ground. Aether quickly moved out of the way and stood next to Sunshine, the both of them watching the two Ghouls wrestle around and curse at each other.

“They don’t need kids, they have us.”

Sunshine flashed a grin at Aether but her smile quickly faded when something behind him caught her attention. Aether turned to look and saw two riders coming over the hill down the road.

“Copia and Princess?” Aether shook his head and continued to watch the riders approach, his body tensing even more when Sunshine spoke again. “Mountain and Rain?”

Four more riders soon appeared behind the first two and Aether could see the metal of their guns glinting in the morning sun. He shouted at Dew and Swiss before turning to meet Sunshine’s determined face.

“Fun’s over.”

It was easy to lose track of time with Copia kissing you.

He had eventually laid his duster out on the ground and pulled you down on top of it with him. His hands were everywhere, tugging at your clothes and maneuvering you until you were in his lap. Copia’s fingers were quick on the buttons of your shirt and as soon as he could he had a hand inside of it and under your chemise, his thumb rubbing against your nipple. He swallowed your little gasps and whimpers, his tongue teasing against your own while his fingers teased your breast.

The more time you spent together like this the more bold you started to feel. You were learning how he liked to be touched, how to get groans and whimpers out of him. It made you feel powerful that you could make him feel good just like he made you feel good. Before you could think too much about it you dropped a hand onto his crotch and began to rub his hardening cock through his pants. Copia broke away with a desperate sounding noise, pressing his forehead against yours and panting into your mouth.

“Fuck, Principessa you–”

The both of you suddenly froze when a barrage of distant booms invaded your little space. Brizio made a noise and sped over towards you both, the horse experienced enough to know what those sounds meant. He knew trouble was close and he was ready to get you both out of there. Selfishly you wished that was what would happen, that you and Copia would jump onto Brizio and ride away from whatever trouble was nearby. You met Copia’s gaze when he turned away from the path you had taken into the little clearing of trees.

“Is that…?”

More gunshots echoed from the way you came and Copia grabbed your waist to help you get off of him. You quickly began to do up your shirt as he grabbed his coat and threw it on. He was on Brizio in a second, his hand reaching down to help you get up behind him.

“Hold on tight.”

You did just that, snaking your arms and clasping your hands together around his waist as Brizio shot off down the path. Your heart was racing as fear started to take a hold of you. What would you be riding back to? How many of Saltarian’s men were out there? Were any of the Ghouls hurt?

Copia covered your hands with one of his own and squeezed them, doing his best to reassure you that everything would be alright. As you got closer to where you had camped the night before the gunshots lessened until finally you had crested the hill and the camp was in sight. You were tentatively looking over Copia’s shoulder, worried at what you might see. Copia himself was tense but not as tense as you had expected so that alone helped ease your worry a bit.

If he wasn’t going in guns blazing you would trust that everything was alright.

As you got closer there were a few bodies on the ground and you had to turn your head away. It wasn’t something you were used to seeing just yet but at least they weren’t wearing any clothes you recognized. Copia pulled back on Brizio’s reins as you reached the others. Mountain strode over to help you down and despite a streak of blood down the side of his face he seemed unharmed.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up.”

“Shut up Dewdrop.” You rushed over to the smoldering campfire to see Aether leaning over Dew, his hands red with blood. “Stay still, damn it.”

“Is he ok?”

You dropped to your knees on the other side of Dew, wincing when you saw the blood spreading on his right thigh.

“He’s fine, just got grazed.”

“Fine?! Speak for yourself, this fucking hurts.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been shot before.” Aether grabbed the torn part of Dewdrop’s pants and tugged at the fabric, ripping it open so he could see the wound better. He shoved at one of Dew’s hands when the Ghoul tried to push Aether away. “Knock it off.”

You looked up when a shadow fell over the three of you, Sunshine offering you a reassuring smile before she knelt down next to you.

“How’s the patient?”

“I’m bleeding out.” Dew hissed when Aether prodded at the wound. “Unholy fuck, what are you doing to me?!”

“Will you two hold him down please?”

Sunshine moved around so she was at Dew’s back and slid her arms around his chest to keep his arms immobile. When Aether nodded towards Dew’s other leg you placed your hands down on it to try and keep it still. He was still twitching and hissing as Aether checked the wound over but he quieted down when Copia came over to hold his ankles.

“Anyone else get hurt?”

“Mountain and Rain came back with some scrapes but otherwise Dew got the worst of it.” Copia nodded and muttered something in Italian under his breath when Dew tried to wriggle away. “Hold still, I need to stitch you up.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Maybe you should move out of the way faster next time to avoid getting shot.”

Sunshine’s voice had a teasing lilt to it but you could tell by the tightness of her features that she was putting on a bit of an act.

“Maybe you should go fuck yourself. I only got this because I pushed you out of the way!”

You bit back a smile as they continued to banter, your eyes watching Aether stitch up the wound on Dew’s leg. Aether caught your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Stick around Princess and you’ll be helping me patch everyone up in no time.”

“I think I will.” Copia and Aether looked your way so you grinned back at them. “Stick around. And helping.”

Copia reached over and tucked some of your hair back behind your ear, a dopey smile on his face.

“Ugh, fucking kill me.” You snorted when you looked away from Copia, blushing a bit when you noticed the three Ghouls watching you. Dewdrop was making a disgusted face and he dropped his head back against Sunshine’s chest. “Seriously I’d rather bleed out than watch the lovebirds any more.”

“Sorry buddy, you’re not gonna die on us today.” Aether tied off the final stitch and sat back to admire his work. “Let’s get it wrapped up and then get you on your feet.”

Copia took one of your hands and helped pull you to your feet as he rose. He didn’t let go, instead tugging you closer so you were pressed into his side.

“We need to get packed up and get out of here.”

He kissed your forehead before turning to look out towards where Mountain, Rain and Swiss were working on getting the bodies of Saltarian’s men gathered.

“Do you think there are more of them?”

His hand squeezing yours was all the answer you needed. Of course there were more. You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself down while your mind raced with the thought of how many others might be sent to get you.

“Hey, look at me.” Copia gripped your chin gently and forced your head up. You were a bit embarrassed at the tears that had been forming in your eyes but he just smiled at you and kissed your nose. “What did I promise you?

“That you’d keep me safe.”

“SÌ. I keep my promises, Principessa.”

With a few more kisses he helped ease your worries and you let yourself lean against him. Letting him take your weight a bit as you soaked in the feeling of being safe in his arms. Whatever the road to the casino brought you knew he would be there and you knew he would do everything he could to keep you safe.

Everything would be ok as long as he was with you.

The arrival at The Ministry was rushed.

You barely had time to take in the town around it before the large building was looming in front of you. Oil lamps were lit up and down the street as well as inside the businesses that lined it as the sun began to set. Copia had directed you to wear the hat Ethel had given you and Sunshine had thrown her coat over you. You weren’t sure what the point was because you doubted anyone in this town wouldn’t recognize Copia and his Ghouls but you let them do whatever they felt was necessary.

Behind the casino were the stables and another building, this one much smaller. You dismounted with everyone else and looked around trying to take everything in. A few men wandered out of the stable and exchanged words with Copia before they started to get the horses inside. Everyone started taking their bags and other belongings off the horses before they began to wander towards the smaller building.

“That’s where we stay.” You jumped a bit at Sunshine’s voice, glancing at her when she stopped right next to you. “The Ghoul dorms. That’s home.”

“It’s…nice?”

She snorted, shaking her head as she threw an arm over your shoulder. Dewdrop and Swiss wandered by on your other side, the larger Ghoul helping his friend limp along.

“It ain’t much but it’s a roof and I don’t have to share a room.” She threw you a wink before pulling you along a little faster. “Unless I want to.”

“Will I be staying here too?”

“Oh shit yeah, we gotta keep you close. Hey boss!” You turned to see Copia jogging your way, his bags slung over his shoulders and his rifle in his hands. “Where should I put her?”

“My room.” It was Copia’s turn to wink at you and your face heated up immediately. “I need to drop my stuff off and then go find Secondo.”

It was busier inside than you had expected. People that you assumed were Ghouls as well greeting everyone as they went inside. Swiss was nearly tackled by a smaller woman and she squealed when he lifted her up to swing her around.

“That’s Aurora.” Sunshine pointed at the woman and then started pointing at various others that were around, rattling off names you had no hope of remembering just yet. “You’ll meet Cumulus and Cirrus later, they’re probably performing right now.”

“Do you perform?”

“Only if Secondo asks nicely.” Your nerves came back at the sound of his name. You were getting more and more scared thinking about meeting him, wondering how he would react to you. “Hey, don’t worry about him. He’s more bark than bite.”

“What about Terzo? Will I meet him too?”

“Not if I can help it.” Copia’s voice was dark at the mention of his brother but you could see Sunshine trying to hide a grin. “Come on, Principessa. Follow me.”

Sunshine gave your shoulder a squeeze before wandering off and dumping her bags on a nearby table. You tried to look around as much as you could while Copia directed you up some stairs and down a hallway. He stopped at a door at the end, shoving a key into the lock before pushing it open and leading you inside.

His room was a lot nicer than you had expected, although it was messy. The unmade bed in the corner was bigger than the one you shared at Ethel’s. Thinking about sharing a bed again had you blushing once more so you quickly looked around at the rest of the space. There were two doors open that led onto a small balcony and when you walked closer you could see another street full of people milling around as the night darkened.

Other than that there was a dresser and a few small tables. All of which were covered with weaponry of some sort. Guns, knives and bullets spread over every surface. As you wandered closer to the large dresser he had you saw a few little trinkets and while you were tempted to poke around you didn’t want to pry into his things too much. This was definitely his space and you were a stranger here.

“Principessa?” You startled at his voice, spinning to find him right behind you with a grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.” He slid an arm around your waist and brought you closer, his eyes focusing on your lips. “Nicer than I expected.”

“Hmm, should I be offended?”

“No, no. It’s just not as bare as I thought it would be.”

“Ah, well perhaps it could use a woman’s touch, eh?” You rolled your eyes when he pressed you back against his dresser. It reminded you of that moment at Ethel’s when you had kissed for the first time. “There’s something else that could use a woman’s touch too.”

“Oh? And what would that b–”

“Fratellino!”

It was Copia’s turn to startle and he quickly shoved you behind him as he turned towards the door. There was a man leaning against the frame, a smirk that was even more infuriating than the ones Copia used to give you on his face. If the smirk didn’t give him away as one of Copia’s brothers the eyes definitely did. Otherwise he couldn’t look more different, his hair was dark, nearly black. His clothes were a lot nicer too. His ensemble was mostly black besides a dark purple waistcoat. Your eyes were also drawn to the shiny star pinned on his chest.

“Terzo. Get the fuck out.”

“Ah, Copia. You don’t mean that.” He wandered into the room, still smirking as his eyes didn’t leave you and Copia. “Won’t you at least introduce me to your bella amica?”

“No. Fuck off.”

“Well I suppose there’s no point in introductions. We all know who she is.” Terzo threw you a wink before wandering over to Copia’s bed and sitting on the edge. You couldn’t help but stare at him, your eyes looking over his bare face wondering if he ever wore makeup like Copia did. “See anything you like, bella?”

“Not really.”

Copia snorted, squeezing your waist briefly before letting you go to walk closer to his brother.

“I can already see you two are a good match.”

“What do you want, Terzo?” Copia had his hands on his hips as he stared down at his brother. “We just got here.”

“SÌ, I know. It wasn’t hard to miss your arrival.” Terzo’s face lost its teasing edge for a moment while he considered his brother. “Secondo wants to see you.”

“He can fuck off too.”

“No fratellino, you need to talk to him. There have been some…developments since we sent Cirrus your way.”

You started nervously fiddling with your shirt as the two spoke, feeling as if you were listening in to a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear.

“I think we ran into some of those developments on the way here. A band of Saltarian’s men attacked us.” Copia turned to walk back over to you but Terzo shot his hand out and grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Che cosa?”

“You’re lucky you only ran into one group of them, there are a lot more and they’re all looking for her.”

You could see Copia bite his lip as he thought over Terzo’s words. The worry lines on his face deepened as well and it took a lot of your self control not to wander over and try to smooth them out with your fingers. Copia looked up and caught your gaze. It bothered you that he didn’t even try to give you a reassuring look.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“How about I stay here and get to know your lady, hmm?” Terzo grunted when Copia grabbed his vest and yanked him off the bed. “Okay! Lucifer’s balls, you need to lighten up, fratellino.”

Copia shoved him towards the door, watching as he wandered out with one final wink being sent your way. You watched as Copia stared at the door, the only thing moving was his chest as he breathed.

“Copia?”

“Stay here.” His voice was rough, similar to how he talked to you when you first met. You winced at the memory but he quickly spun towards you and held his hands up. “Per favore.”

“Am I safe here?”

“SÌ! SÌ, you are safe here I promise you.” He quickly moved back in front of you and cradled your head in his hands. “I don’t want you on your own just yet. Until I know what’s going on.”

You nodded, closing your eyes when he pressed a few kisses into your forehead. When he pulled away you looked at him, trying to offer him a reassuring smile but knowing it wasn’t really working. He kissed it away, his lips soft against yours. It was easy to get lost in him, to focus on this moment right now and not what might happen in the future. You were embarrassed at how your fingers clutched at his shirt when he backed away.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know, Principessa.” He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs along the back of them before bringing them up so he could kiss along the pads of your fingers. “I’m worried too. Just stay here. Lock the door behind me, yeah?”

“Okie dokie.”

He smiled, moving in for a fierce kiss on your mouth before quickly pulling away and heading out the door. You followed him slowly, watching as he headed down the hall and down the stairs. With a deep breath you finally closed it, turning the lock firmly and then leaning your head against the wood.

At this point you weren’t sure who you should pray to but you decided to say one to whoever might be listening that everything would be ok.

The lure of having a bed to sleep in was too much to resist.

It felt weird to poke around his room when he wasn’t there so at first you just looked out his balcony doors. The city was still alive with people even at how late the hour had become. You found yourself imagining what each person’s life was like as they passed along the street below. It was so different from where you were from, so different from what you were used to. You couldn’t help but imagine yourself living here, thinking about what you might do every day.

Thinking about sharing a life with Copia.

You turned to stare at the door to his room, wondering what was taking him so long. It had been hours at this point and your anxiety was high imagining what Copia and Secondo might be talking about. There was no doubt in your mind that they were talking about you but what did that involve? What had really happened while Saltarian had come here? You shook your head like that action alone would make your worries leave.

There was so much happening, so much to deal with, that it was overwhelming for you. It had to be even worse for Copia. You wished you knew what was going through his head, what he felt like his options were. Saltarian wouldn’t give him the ransom money without also having you in his possession. You clenched your hands into fists at that thought. At how men like your father and Saltarian treated you. Like a thing someone could own, like a trinket to be put on display. You didn’t belong to anyone.

But you did belong with Copia, that you knew. That was something you could feel in your heart. You felt it every time he looked at you. Even when it was that smug smile of his, even when he was teasing you. You felt it when he touched you, when he kissed you. Your only hope was that Copia felt the same.

With a heavy sigh you turned towards his bed, deciding that it would be best to try to get some sleep rather than let your worries take over. You slipped your shoes and pants off before crawling in under the covers. They were a lot softer than you had expected, much more comfortable than the horse blankets you had become used to. Your eyes quickly grew heavy, your mind finally quieting from all your fretting. You fell asleep to the thought of sharing this bed with Copia for many days to come.

The room was bathed in morning light when you woke up again.

There was a slight chill so you found yourself pressing harder against the warm body next to you. Copia had finally come back a few hours after you had climbed into bed. He had stayed quiet, just wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His grip had remained tight throughout the early morning hours, like he was afraid you’d get up and leave if he let go. Your hold on him was equally strong, using him as a shield against your worries.

“You awake, Principessa?”

Instead of answering you turned in his arms and buried your face against him. The dark hair that covered his chest tickled your nose but you stayed still, daring to press a kiss right over the strange tattoo he had. His chest rumbled beneath your lips and in a quick move he rolled so that you were laying under him, his body effectively pinning you onto the bed.

You expected him to tease you but instead of talking his lips immediately were on yours, his tongue pressing against them and demanding entrance. With a soft groan you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his. Copia angled his head and deepened the kiss even more, like he was starving and you were the only thing keeping him alive.

The memory of what he had said after his apology creeped into your mind, of how he had promised to make you his when he had you in a bed again. It made you feel bold, he made you feel bold, so you shoved your fingers into his hair and wrapped a leg around his waist. He ground down against you and a much louder groan left you when you felt how hard he was. It pressed insistently against you, right where you needed him the most. When Copia suddenly pulled away you cried out, trying to use your leg to keep him close.

“Copia, please. You sa–”

“I know, I know.” Copia dropped his head into the crook of your neck and you could hear him mumble something in Italian before he pulled up to look into your eyes. “You are a temptress.”

“Is it working?” You weren’t sure when you had become so bold but it was probably somewhere between the farmhouse and the casino. Copia cursed under his breath when you lifted your head up to kiss him along his jaw. “You have me in a bed, in your bed.”

“Do I? I hadn’t noticed.” With a grunt he pressed against you once more, pushing you down into the bedding. “Was there something you needed, Principessa?”

“You.”

His eyes darkened and with a quick move he had you flipped so you were sprawled on top of him. One of his hands was in your hair, his mouth already on yours again. His other hand slid down your back until it stopped on your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and holding you still. You moaned when he spread his legs open and you felt his hardness between your legs again. It was straining against his pants and you wiggled against it, gasping into his mouth when you felt it twitch. He tugged on your hair, pulling you away from his mouth and then turning you so you were both on your sides facing each other.

“I knew I should have slept on the floor.” He chuckled when you tried to pinch his side, easily grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth so he could kiss your palm. “Mi dispiace, Principessa. You’ll have to wait a bit longer for me.”

“What?” You pulled away when he tried to kiss you. “Why?”

“I need to leave. And soon.”

Your heart sank and you put your hands on his chest to put some distance between you both.

“Leave? Leave where?”

“Those men we ran into yesterday, that wasn’t the only group of them lurking around.” When you didn’t budge he sighed and rolled over onto his back. “Secondo said there were more of them north of town.”

“Then why are you leaving? Shouldn’t you stay here?”

“You know why.” Copia’s eyes were soft when he turned to look at you. He reached over slowly to cup your cheek. “I have to keep you safe.”

“I feel safest when I’m with you, Copia.”

“You will be safe here, I promise.” He started stroking his thumb back and forth along your cheek. “Sunshine and Aether will be here.”

Your eyes widened briefly, surprised he wouldn’t want to take them along but also a little grateful that you’d have people you knew nearby. You bit your lip and scooted closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Hopefully not long, two days at the most I think.” His hand on your cheek slid back into your hair and he rubbed his fingers along your scalp. “Stick with Sunshine, she’ll keep you safe.”

“And what about you? Who will keep you safe?”

Copia laughed, the sound doing wonders to calm your nerves. He moved his hand and his fingers started tracing the chain of his grucifix that you still wore.

“Brizio.” You couldn’t help but laugh yourself, shaking your head against his shoulder. After a moment you moved so you could kiss his skin. Pressing your lips onto every freckle you could. “You’re making it very hard for me to leave, Principessa.”

“Good.”

Copia turned again and easily wrapped you up in his arms, holding you close against his chest once more. Tears started to form in your eyes but you squeezed them shut as hard as you could, not wanting him to see how upset you were. You trusted him to stay safe, you trusted whoever he took with him to keep him safe too.

“Stay in here or stay with Sunshine. Avoid Secondo, eh?”

“I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him.”

You huffed against his skin, your nerves spiking while you wondered why you needed to stay away from him at all.

“What about Terzo?”

“Don’t you worry about him.” Copia touched your chin and tilted your head up so he could give you a brief kiss before leaning back and grinning. “I’m taking that stronzo with me.”

Sunshine refused to let you mope in Copia’s room.

A few hours after he left she showed up at your door, a wide grin on her face. The Ghoulette didn’t give you any other option besides going with her so you reluctantly left the safety of Copia’s room and tagged along. The first place you stopped at was a room further down the hall and you could already hear Dewdrop’s grumbling before Sunshine even opened the door. Aether was in there as well, quietly checking on the stitches he had put in the day before.

After a few minutes of Sunshine needling Dew Aether practically shoved the both of you out. Sunshine took you around the halls above the common area, pointing out who stayed where. You had no hope of remembering where everyone’s rooms were, except Copia’s at least. But it was fun to see where everyone lived regardless.

You had hoped to meet Aurora and Cirrus but they had gone with Copia and the others. Sunshine mentioned that Secondo hadn’t been very happy when he found out but honestly it didn’t seem like Secondo was happy about a lot of things. You had so many questions about him, and Terzo, on the tip of your tongue but you decided to keep them to yourself for now. Copia would probably be the better person to ask anyway.

The day progressed slowly, which did little to ease your worries. Sunshine did her best to keep you occupied and you even went back to see Aether for a bit. He helped you redo some of Dew’s stitches when the Ghoul had decided to ignore the fact that he was supposed to stay still. Aether seemed pleased with your work and even Dew was relatively quiet while you finished tying them off. It made you feel good being able to contribute in some way.

It made you feel like you had a place here.

As the day wore on you could tell Sunshine was getting a little bored of babysitting. She also seemed on edge so you imagined that she was also worried, just like you were. It couldn’t be easy to be left behind when your friends were riding into danger. Although friends almost didn’t seem like the best word anymore. It was clear that Copia and his Ghouls had formed a family. You only hoped that someday they would consider you a part of it as well.

When night fell you decided it would be best to head back to Copia’s room. The common area where the Ghouls stayed was getting a little rowdy and Sunshine was fielding a lot of questions regarding your presence. You had no reason to think any of them had ill intentions but it still made you nervous not having Copia at your side to help keep some of them at bay. Sunshine pulled you into a hug when you started to head for the stairs and you found yourself leaning into your embrace.

Perhaps you were already considered family.

The hall towards Copia’s room was quiet but you still found yourself taking careful steps along the wood. When you got inside you turned and gently closed the door, leaning your forehead against it for a moment and taking a few deep breaths. You weren’t looking forward to a night alone but hopefully Copia would be back in the morning.

“So you’re Copia’s Principessa.”

At the sound of the deep voice behind you your blood seemed to freeze. Slowly you turned, knowing that behind you was the one person you were most nervous to meet. He stood in the middle of the room, a much taller figure than you had expected. Again you were struck by the differences between him and his brothers but there was no mistaking what the different colored eyes symbolized.

There was no doubt that this was Secondo Emeritus.

“I-yes. Yes.” You winced when your voice cracked, knowing that he was probably the type of guy that quickly cataloged every little reaction people had around him. “Is Copia ok?”

“I would imagine so considering there’s nothing out there for him to find.”

“What?” You pressed your back against the door. It felt like you needed as much distance as possible from this man but you had no idea why. “I thought there were more of Saltarian’s men?”

“I have no doubt that there are, but they aren’t in the direction I sent him.” His voice was calm, almost bored as he spoke. “But it was an easy way to separate him from you. I knew he wouldn’t sit idly by if he was worried for your safety.”

“Why did you need to separate us?”

“Because I need to talk with you one on one without mio fratellino interfering.” Secondo took a few steps towards you making you wish you had more room to back up. “Because I need you gone before he gets back.”

“Gone?”

He snorted, shaking his head in annoyance at your question. You were sure that to him you were just some stupid city girl, much like how Copia originally thought of you.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”

A flash of anger flared inside of you and you took a step towards him, feeling a moment of bravery.

“What I’ve done? Copia is the one that kidnapped me!”

“I’m aware of that but it seems circumstances have changed, don’t you agree?” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared you down. “From what I’ve been told you two have gotten…close.”

“That’s none of your business.”

With a snarl Secondo moved towards you and you once more felt the door against your back.

“No, Principessa, it is my business. Copia’s idiotic plan has put my livelihood at risk. It has put my family at risk. And for what? An easy fuck with some stupid girl.”

“It’s not just…we haven’t…” You stopped, unable and unwilling to finish what you were going to say. “He cares about me.”

“Does he? Or does he just care about what you can get him?” Secondo laughed when you didn’t answer right away. “I’ve known him a lot longer than you have. I know what motivates him, I know why he does what he does.”

Your mind was racing, trying to cling to every moment you and Copia had shared. What Secondo was implying wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. You refused to give in to those thoughts.

“I don’t think you know him at all.”

“Think whatever you like, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you think is going on between you two is over. You need to leave.”

“No! I’m not leaving him.”

“Let me ask you this, do you care about him?”

“I…” You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders, refusing to look scared in front of him. “I love him.”

“Then you have to leave.” Secondo held up a hand when you opened your mouth, stopping you from arguing with him. “Saltarian was here, as I’m sure you heard. He’s decided to use your kidnapping as a way to destroy us once and for all.”

“How?”

“You’re more than a business pawn to him now. You’re a way for him to be rid of the Church of Emeritus forever. He’s going to keep sending men after Copia, after you, and he doesn’t care if you get caught in the crossfire.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’ll blame it on Copia, on our church that barely exists anymore. He’ll use it as an excuse to burn everything we’ve rebuilt.” Secondo seemed to deflate a bit, his shoulders sagging under some invisible weight. “He’ll kill us all.”

“And if I go?”

“He agreed that if I could get you to him he would leave us be.” He let out a humorless laugh and looked around Copia’s room. “Unless provoked.”

“Copia will come after me.”

“Then you’ll have to convince him not to.” He pointed over to a small table against the wall and you saw a pen sticking out of an ink well. It was obvious he’d brought it with him. “Write him a letter, tell him you’d rather be with Saltarian.”

“He won’t believe me!”

“I’m not going to let you destroy what has taken me a decade to build. I don’t care what you write, whatever it takes to make him think you don’t want him anymore.”

You sagged against the door, gripping the handle to keep yourself from falling onto the floor. Tears were streaming down your face but you didn’t bother wiping them off. Your hand came up to your chest and you clutched at the grucifix from where it was hiding under your shirt.

“Please, I don’t want to go.”

“What did you actually think would happen here? Did you think you’d find a job dealing cards or serving drinks?” Secondo took a few steps closer, towering over you. “Can you sing? Can you dance?”

“No, bu–”

“You don’t belong here, girl. With Copia or with us. Stop fooling yourself if you think he feels the same way about you.” He held a hand out then and you stared at the worn black leather glove that covered it. “If you love him you need to leave.”

“When?”

“Now. They will be back in the morning I’m sure.”

You nodded, pressing your hands against the floor to push yourself back up, refusing to accept his help.

“Where should I go?”

“South, the road you came in on.” You felt his eyes on you as you wandered over to the table, your hands trembling as you picked up the pen and held it above the paper he had left there. “There will be men waiting to take you to Saltarian.”

“And Copia?”

Secondo already had his hand on the door handle but he turned towards you when you spoke.

“What about him?”

“Will he…will he be ok?”

Would he be safe? Would Saltarian leave him alone, would he leave all of you alone?

Would he miss you?

Secondo spent a few moments watching you, his face set in stone.

“He’ll get over it.”

The ‘over you’ was obvious so you just nodded, turning away from him to stare down at the blank sheet of paper. More tears were falling and you didn’t want Secondo to see them. You gripped the grucifix again, tracing the stones with your thumb through the fabric of your shirt. When the door closed behind you it was as if all the strength left your body and you fell to your knees to weep for the life you almost had.

Copia wanted to go home.

Although he wasn’t sure if he had ever felt like The Ministry was home. It was just someplace to keep what few things he owned. To gather with the Ghouls and to plan whatever scheme against Saltarian he came up with next. The main reason he wanted to get off the fucking road and go back there was you. He was pissed that he had left you but Secondo hadn’t given him much of a choice.

The conversation with his brothers hadn’t gone well. Like Copia expected, Secondo was pissed over the kidnapping. But he had never felt the fire Copia did to get revenge on Saltarian. He had never understood why Copia had dedicated the last ten years to taking him down. It was so close to being over with though, Copia was so close to feeling peace for the first time in so long. His soul ached for it.

Just like it ached for you.

He glanced around the campfire, irritated that Terzo had insisted on stopping for the night. There hadn’t been a damn sign of any of Saltarian’s men. Rain had rode ahead countless times but each time he had come back with nothing. Not a single sign that any men had been around those parts recently. That fact was eating at Copia, a feeling he couldn’t shake and it kept getting worse as the hours wore on.

“Sunshine’ll take care of her boss. She’ll be fine.”

Copia nodded towards Swiss, appreciating the Ghoul trying to reassure him. It wasn’t too long ago that a moment like this would have made him feel weak. That his feelings towards you would have made him feel weak. All of that had been changing though, especially since leaving Ethel’s. You had carved a place for yourself inside of his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself picture you in his bed in nothing but a baggy shirt and his grucifix laying over your heart.

Fuck this.

He stood up and grabbed his blanket off the ground, throwing it over his shoulder as he picked up what little else he had around him.

“Boss?”

“I’m leaving.”

Copia stepped over Swiss’s legs to make his way over to Brizio but he stopped at the sound of Terzo’s voice.

“You seem impatient fratellino, is there somewhere else you’d rather be right now?” Terzo grinned when Copia shot him a look. “Or maybe it’s someone you’d rather be with? I can’t say I blame you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Salty’s fiancé. I can see why you stayed away for so long.”

“We stayed away because you told us to.”

“Oh that was Secondo, I didn’t really give a fuck.” Terzo laughed at Copia’s irritated face. “Che cosa? A little excitement never hurt anyone.”

“The only excitement you seem to enjoy anymore takes place in a bed.”

“Or a couch, a chair, a table…I’m not picky.” Copia just rolled his eyes and started moving towards his horse again, only stopping when Terzo stood up and went after him. “This girl, your ‘Principessa’, she’s very beautiful.”

“Is she?”

Copia stayed absolutely still as he waited for Terzo to continue. The chatter from the Ghouls around them had stopped, everyone seeming to be waiting to see where Terzo was going with this.

“Don’t play coy, she’s exactly the type of girl you always go for.”

“I’m not ‘going’ for her. She’s here for a specific purpose, that’s all.”

“Really? I could have sworn there was something else going on between you both.” Copia stayed quiet, unwilling to play whatever game Terzo wanted to start. His brother grinned when Copia didn’t immediately take the bait. “In that case you won’t mind if she and I become better acquainted, will you?”

Copia heard one of the Ghouls mutter ‘oh fuck’ but it was quiet enough he couldn’t pinpoint who. He turned so he was facing Terzo head on, he had an infuriating smile on his face and it just seemed to grow as he watched Copia’s reaction.

“Mi scusi?”

“I just figured there will be a few days before we can set up a rendezvous with Saltarian’s men so what’s the harm if she and I have some fun?” Terzo laughed when Copia grabbed the front of his shirt. “What’s the problem?”

“You don’t get to touch her.”

“And what if I do? What if I touch her just how she wants and she makes some pretty noises for me?” Terzo ignored every warning sign he had ever learned about his younger brother and kept going. “What if she chooses m—cazzo!”

Copia’s fist was swift and powerful when it landed on Terzo’s chin. The crack echoed around the small camp followed by the sounds of more blows landing. He was like a man possessed as he shoved Terzo onto his back and slammed his fist into his face again and again. Swiss and Mountain rushed over, grabbing at Copia’s arms but he shoved them away, snarling something dark when Terzo laughed. Swiss finally shoved his entire body into Copia’s side and managed to knock him over.

“Belial, Copia stop!”

“Get off me!” Copia was wild as he tried to get his friend off of him. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Awfully testy over a bargaining chip, fratellino!”

Terzo’s taunting words just had Copia fighting harder and Cirrus came over to try to help keep him on the ground.

“Satan’s dick Terzo, just shut the fuck up.”

The man just flashed Cirrus a bloodstained grin before wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“I just wanted to see if I was right or not.”

Copia stopped fighting for a moment, lifting his head off the ground to look at his brother.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I told Secondo you had fallen for this girl. I could tell.”

“Why does it matter?”

Swiss and Cirrus let Copia sit up, staying close in case he went after his brother again.

“Well it changes things, doesn’t it? If you like her.”

Copia was silent because Terzo was right, it did change things. He hadn’t wanted to think about how his plan would have to change after his feelings for you did. Mostly he just wanted to get to the casino, to get you someplace safe, before he worried about anything else.

Before he told you how he really felt.

There was something about the look on Terzo’s face that worried him. A look that always seemed to precede bad news ever since they were kids.

“What did you do?”

“Well again, this was mostly Sec–”

“Terzo what the fuck did you do?!”

His hand was shaking as he held your note.

The grucifix was in his other hand, the stones glittering in the morning light. He had been reading your words over and over, trying to absorb them. Trying to get them to make some sort of sense but his brain refused to work. It was like his entire body had shut down. Thanks to Terzo he knew that you had written it under Secondo’s direction but it still hurt. It hurt to see you write that you didn’t want to be with him, that you felt your life would be better with Saltarian.

Even if you didn’t mean it, he was determined now to prove you wrong.

“Let her go, Copia.”

He crumpled the note in his hand as he turned to glare at Secondo. Copia could feel the bite from the chain of his grucifix even through his glove.

“Fuck you.”

Secondo narrowed his eyes while he took a few steps towards him. When he saw Copia’s hand drift towards his gun belt he stopped and threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Really? Over some stupid girl?” He shook his head as he looked his brother over, his eyes finally falling on the grucifix. “Don’t tell me you gave that to her.”

“What I do is none of your fucking concern, fratello.” Copia started towards the door, shoving the grucifix in his pocket and dropping the note. Secondo grabbed his arm as he attempted to pass him and Copia shoved him back with a snarl. “Touch me again and you’ll regret it.”

“You and Terzo are both fools. Giving something like that to any pretty face willing to share your bed.”

Behind Secondo Copia could see Sunshine and Swiss waiting in the hallway, the both of them ready to follow Copia wherever he went.

“Where did she go?”

“Where she belongs!”

Copia shook his head and moved past his brother again, nodding at Sunshine and Swiss as he went by. He could hear their footsteps close behind him and when he got to the bottom of the steps he was happy to see the rest of his Ghouls ready to go as well.

“Rain and Mountain already headed out to find her trail.” Sunshine’s voice was tight with worry behind him and he turned to meet her eyes. “Copia I’m sor–”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.” She nodded but didn’t look very convinced. He turned to see Aether arguing with Dewdrop, probably trying to convince the man he shouldn’t be riding with his wound. Right now Copia didn’t care, who knew where you were at this point? He needed all the help he could get. “You two get the horses ready.”

They quickly headed out the door and Copia was left in the common room with Sunshine and Swiss. He stiffened when the stairs started creaking behind him as Secondo followed them down.

“If you go after her you doom us all.”

“We’re already doomed. If you think Saltarian wouldn’t eventually come after us you’re a fool.”

“What makes this girl worth it? Why are you willing to risk your life, to risk all of our lives for her?”

Copia turned to stare at his brother, feeling the eyes of the other Ghouls on him. He was sure now. Sure about how he felt for you. Sure that you were his and that he was yours.

Sure that he would kill anyone that hurt you.

“Because I love her.”

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #copia x reader #the cardinal's bride #cowboy copia

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pennylanefics · 7 days

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Nighttime Comfort - Seth Jarvis

a/n: thanks to @human-trainwreck for the idea of the "best friend's younger brother" trope! i got the idea and ran with it and finish this in one night <3 if anyone has more seth ideas, send them my way! i had more ideas and definitely missed some things...part 2 maybe?? 👀

summary: you've always seen your best friend's little brother as just that, until one night, after thinking about him for months, everything changes when he comforts you after nightmares

warnings: mention of nightmares (no descriptions), slight age gap (i envisioned seth being 22 and reader being 23 or 24, so not terrible, but it's brought up multiple times)

word count: ~4.2k

“Seth should be gone by the time we get home, so you won’t have to deal with him while I’m out,” your best friend Daisy says to you as you near her home. The two of you had been out shopping all day, finally having time to spend with each other after your hectic schedules failed to line up for so long.

With your job at a local publishing company and the influx of demands your boss needed to meet the proper deadlines, and her traveling with her boyfriend, who is a hockey player in the NHL, it was hard to meet up. But finally, now that the off-season is here and your work has slowed down some, you could meet up and catch up on all the lost time.

“You know I don’t mind him,” you tell her. “He’s fun to be around.” She rolls her eyes at your words and you can’t help but laugh.

You grew up next to Daisy and Seth in Winnipeg and as time went on, you and Daisy became nearly inseparable, doing everything together and playing in each other’s backyards every day after school. That also led you to becoming rather close with her younger brother, only two years younger than you and her, but he was always around as their parents practically forced Daisy to include him.

Not that you minded, he was very amusing and a great joy; he was extremely chaotic and energetic, and was always trying to get you to laugh and mess with you in a teasing and fun way. Daisy was so embarrassed by him every time, but you truly weren’t bothered by it.

Things changed a little right before you entered high school. During the summer between eighth grade and ninth, your family moved away, although it was still in the same district and within driving distance, no more than fifteen minutes. It did hinder your ability to see her and Seth outside of school or on the weekends. Things did go back to normal when you and Daisy got your licenses and could see each other whenever.

As the years went on, things continued to change and shift. With Seth going into the NHL, and Daisy becoming a WAG for the Winnipeg Jets, you rarely had time to see them over the past couple of years, but through different interviews and videos of him from the Hurricanes and other media, you could tell Seth was still the same guy you grew up with and knew so well.

“I haven’t seen him in a while anyway. I think the last time was around Christmas, when he came home. That was almost seven months ago.”

“Believe me, seven months is not enough time away from him,” she grumbles, making you throw your head back in laughter.

He was always the life of the party. He could light up a room with his energy and sweet smile just by walking into it, and he’s cheered you up countless times after numerous events that upset you over the years.

And you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you always felt something more for him. Some little voice in your mind was screaming that he’s a sweetheart and would be an incredible partner. But you pushed that idea down for many reasons, one of which is because you figured he never would see you as anything more than his older sister’s best friend; it was an unspoken rule, really, and neither of you wanted to cross that line.

The two of you drag your number of bags into her house, where you were staying for the week since her parents were on vacation and your apartment was being renovated because of a flood issue on your floor.

“Just set them down and we can go through everything when I get back,” she states.

She needed to run an errand with her boyfriend, to check on his grandmother about an hour away and bring her the prescription she needed. That meant you would be alone for the next three hours or so, and after the long day you had, it was exactly what you needed.

She left shortly after dropping everything off, and in the meantime, you showered and then ordered some food. Everything in the house was calm, you were watching your favorite TV show on the TV, and it felt peaceful to have this kind of downtime after a full, busy day.

But that peace was quickly ruined an hour or so later. The time rolled around to 7:45 and in comes Seth and a couple guys, who you recognize as fellow players on the Hurricanes. Turning around, you stare at them, wide-eyed in surprise, and as soon as Jarvy takes the sight of you in, he shouts excitedly.

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?!” He yells, running over to you on the couch. Standing, you jump into his arms to hug him tightly, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne, a smell you’ve thought about every day since you got a whiff of it on Christmas.

“My apartment is being worked on and since Daisy and I haven’t had time to see one another very much, she invited me to stay here. I know she said you are back here for a short while, but she said you’d be out.”

“What, not so happy to see me??” He teases, shoving your shoulder playfully once you pull away from the hug. “Yeah, well, the guys and I wanted to go to some bars, but after sitting around we decided to come back here and play video games instead.” He points to the two men behind him, one who has blond hair and piercing blue eyes and one has short brown hair and deep brown eyes.

“This is Jack and Jesperi, or you can call him KK,” he points to the brown-eyed hockey player, who smiles sweetly at you and waves.

“Nice to meet you guys. I can move up to Daisy’s room if you’d prefer the living room. She’s still gone and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about that!” Jarvy stops you from moving your things. “We’re going to the basement to play, we won’t bother you at all. Unless we have to come back up for snacks and drinks, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

Chuckling softly, you nod and watch as they file into the furnished basement, yelling and shouting as they go. Thankfully, the noise wasn’t too loud to distract you, so you go back to watching your show with no worry.

As the hours tick by and your eyes start growing heavier, you knew you should have headed up to Daisy’s room to get some rest instead of on the couch, although their couch was rather comfy. It was a large sectional, big enough to fit their entire family for movie nights.

You were curled up in one corner of the L-shaped section, under a soft, fuzzy blanket that was keeping you warm. The low lighting that you had set in the living room and with the quiet lull of your comfort TV show was enough to ease you to sleep, though you were unaware.

Suddenly, you are jolting up, your neck feeling slightly sweaty and clammy, your breathing slightly erratic and your eyes trying to adjust back to the bright TV that remained on. Slowly, you become aware of your surroundings and turn to find Seth sitting near you, a worried expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” He wonders, his voice low and calming, not wanting to startle you anymore than he has. “You were mumbling something in your sleep and shaking a little.”

Your hand wipes across your face as you shift your body to sit up a little. Being in the moment, you were finally able to get a really good look at Seth, since earlier you were too taken by the excitement of seeing him and meeting new people.

His hair was long in the back, but on the sides, you could tell that he had recently gotten them shaved down some, but the top section flopped over to hide that area; it was something that was visible when he wore a hat, and it was a look you always liked. His facial hair was newly trimmed, his beard slightly scruffy and his mustache somewhat full.

He was wearing an old Canes t-shirt, the neckline cut off to fit him loosely, and a pair of basketball shorts that were slightly smaller than usual, riding up his leg and showing a small glimpse of the tattoo on his right thigh.

“I-I was having a weird dream,” you murmur, taking a couple deep breaths. Seth moves a little closer, sensing all you needed was some comfort. “What time is it?”

“Around 11:30. Daisy called me and said something came up and she won’t able to make it back tonight. She said she tried calling you but you weren’t answering. Now I see why,” he answers with a lighthearted laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. I should head upstairs.”

Seth thinks for a moment before he holds his hand up, silently telling you to stay put.

“Give me two minutes,” he says before darting off. You sat there, confused as hell as he ran up the stairs, leaving you alone once again.

You quickly text Daisy back, letting her know you had fallen asleep and everything was good, and that you’d see her in the morning, before reaching for the glass of water that had been left untouched for the past few hours and taking a large sip.

Minutes later, Seth comes trudging down the stairs with his comforter and an extra blanket, along with two pillows. He also had a change of clothes for himself, and once he reaches the couch, he piles everything onto the cushions at your feet.

“We’re having a little sleepover,” he states. “My sister ditched you so I’m stepping in. Plus we haven’t spent time together in a long time so we have to make up for it.” He winks and laughs at your shocked face.

“You really don’t have to do this. What about KK and Jack? Aren’t they downstairs?”

“Nope. They left right before you woke up. They’re staying in a hotel nearby so they’re gone for the night. Just you and me.”

After he gets everything set up, he runs off to the bathroom down the hall to change and when he returns in a pair of sweats and a different t-shirt, he sighs heavily and stares down at the couch.

“Okay, so I’ll sleep this way, and you can sleep with your legs out that way so you have more room,” he tells you, waving his hands all over. He specifically pointed to the spot you were sitting in, how he’d have his legs on the cushions jutting out and you would sleep perpendicular to him.

“Where would my pillow go?” You wonder, grabbing onto the extra one he had from his bed. You can’t help but smile at the scent that covers it, a mixture of Seth’s shampoo and conditioner and his cologne. His comforter was the same way, soaked in the smell of his body wash, a woods-y and earthy scent that you were most familiar with, similar to his cologne.

“Here,” he gets situated on the couch, his legs stretching straight out on the cushion. He places the pillow down on his legs and pats it, signaling that’s where you can lay. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, the three of you used to sleep on each other like this when you were younger, more innocent.

Not that he was asking in an inappropriate way now, but it was something you figured you’d grown out of. But being too tired and too scared to fight, you just laugh it off and get under the covers. He left his comforter for you and used the two blankets for himself, something you found unfair to him.

You place your head in his lap, against the pillow, and immediately, his hands start playing with your hair softly, making sure not to tug at any knots that he couldn’t see. He was more so twirling the ends for his own comfort, something you picked up on when you were kids.

After laying there for a bit, no words spoken between the two of you, the guilt of him being down here, keeping you company was rising in your chest; you knew you shouldn’t have felt this way, but he didn’t have to do all of this.

“Seth, you don’t have to sit down here with me,” you suddenly sit up, looking over at him. A hurt and confused look crosses his face as he adjusts his body.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to, trust me. I know how you used to struggle with nightmares and no one should be left alone after having one.” His voice is gentle and soothing, trying to get across the fact that he wants to be here with you, and it’s no obligation or issue at all.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you whisper. But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Well I’m not leaving,” he shakes his head. “What’s going on? I thought it would be nice to see each other again and be with one another now that you’re here.”

You pause and let his words sink in. He was right. Why were you pushing back? But with one look into his brown eyes, lit by the soft glow of a nearby salt lamp you had turned on earlier, you were very aware.

You had fallen for Jarvy and now there was no denying it.

You think back to the last time you saw him, in December. You couldn’t quit stealing glances at him throughout the day, watching as he laughed with his loved ones and how bright his unique smile was, how much you loved seeing it and how you longed to be the reason he was smiling so joyfully.

How you longed to hold his hand and cuddle up next to him on the couch, watching whatever Christmas movie was playing on the TV, surrounded by your family and his, having him press kisses to your temple.

It made your chest feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about what being his partner would be like. Was he serious in times when it was needed? Or did he used humor and laughter to cope with everything?

“(Y/N)?” He waves his hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to earth. You sigh softly and grin at him.

“Sorry, was just…thinking about something. But you’re right, it is nice to see you and be able to spend time with just you…” you trail off, hoping the tone of your voice didn’t give your little crush away. He smiles at you and opens his arms.

“So how about we cuddle instead? I’ve been told I give wonderful cuddles in times of need like this,” he states playfully, which in turn makes you giggle. He gives you that bright, wide smile as you move your body, but before you can super comfortable, you motion for him to switch positions and lay parallel with you, so both of your legs were on the actual couch rather than the sectional.

Since the space was big enough, you both fit rather comfortably, once Seth finally gets settled. You curl into his left side, nuzzling your face into chest, your eyes fluttering closed. What you couldn’t tell was the fact that Seth’s heart was racing in his chest at the turn of events.

He’s now under his own comforter, your legs tangling with his underneath. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and one is softly rubbing up and down your back underneath the covers. It’s such a sweet and intimate movement, and it makes your own heart beat faster.

Silence falls over the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say, but instead, you enjoy the silence and the presence of each other.

“Would now be an acceptable time to admit that I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time?” He whispers, avoiding moving in case you wanted to pull away from him. But to his surprise, you stay put, reaching for his right hand that was stroking up and down your arm.

“You have?” You wonder, a little taken aback by his admission, threading your fingers with his. He watches in curiosity but smiles as he feels your touch in his.

“Yeah. Ever since you came home from school that one day in eighth grade, I was in sixth. You said some boy made a comment about you and you cried to me because Daisy wasn’t home yet. I-”

“You started telling me all these strange things about what the kid does and how awful he is to try and get me to laugh,” you fill in his sentence, remembering back to that day as clear as can be.

Seth had started telling you weird things that were very obviously not true, but what else is an eleven year old supposed to say? He was making things up like, “he keeps his boogers on a piece of notebook paper in his binder” or “his fingernails grow so fast he has to have them cut every day, and then he saves them to try and get in the Guinness Book of World Records for most amount of nail shavings collected”. Outrageously ridiculous statements.

But by the end, you were laughing with him, forgetting about all the mean things he said about you, and thanks to Jarvy, feeling better about yourself, even though you knew none of what he was saying was true.

“I know we were never super close the way that you and Daisy are, but I could never deny my crush for you. I expected you to think it was weird, considering I’m her younger brother and that’s all I knew I’d be. But goddamn, seeing you again, especially in such a soft and laid-back setting, it’s reignited that feeling.”

You were truly speechless. You had no idea what to say. He really had a crush on you?

“Then I think it’s fair to admit that I also like you, but pushed it away because I thought you only ever saw me as, well, as your older sister’s best friend, I thought it would be weird. But I like you a lot, Seth.”

His hand drops yours and it comes to rest on the side of your face, gently bringing your chin up to look up at him. His eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness as his hand cupped your cheek, careful with the amount of pressure he was using, letting you know you could push him away at any point still.

“So when was the moment you fell for me?” He asks, that crooked smile threatening to break. Heat rises to your cheeks when you realize you don’t have a story similar to his.

“This past holiday season. When you came home for Christmas, I realized quite a few things, and one of them is I can’t deny that I have feelings for you and wish what it would be like to be yours,” you whisper to him, gazing into his eyes. His thumb rubs against the apple of your cheek as you explain your side. He then takes a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it sends your heart into a frenzy.

“Oh really?” He pushes in a teasing manner. “Like what?”

“Like falling asleep in your arms, but in a more romantic way than platonic way when we were younger. Being able to come up and hug and kiss you whenever, wearing your jersey to your games, knowing that only you and I know that I’m yours and the most important person in the crowd wearing your number.” He can’t help the blush that dusts his cheeks at your last comment. “And I can assume that’s something you’ve thought about plenty of times, right?”

Seth laughs and nods his head, still looking down at you with so much love.

“I won’t lie, I have. And you’d be able to get a WAG playoff jacket, and how adorable you’d look in them.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he continues to hold your cheek in his hand.

“You know, my parents always joked with your parents about when we’d get together. And Daisy always shut them down whenever she heard them talk about it because how weird, right? But there was one night, a few years back, right before I was drafted. We were in the backyard, looking up at the stars, and she told me I should go for it with you, if I liked you. How she thought we’d be good together, how I’d treat you right and how you would love me for as I am. I think she could always sense that I liked you more than a friend, but was too scared to say it because you two were friends first, and pretty close.”

You are stunned by his words. You never knew Daisy said that, but to hear that she thought her brother was good enough for you, you knew that this decision, or whatever outcome for tonight was going to be, it was going to be a good choice.

Seth is a good guy, and you’ve seen this for many years. Now, you are seeing him in a different light, one where his smile sends butterflies to your stomach rather than a simple “Daisy’s younger brother is so adorable” kind of way. One where you got to see the fun and excitable, puppy-dog energy side but also his serious and down-to-earth side where he could settle those feelings and be real with you.

“Now that I think about it, around that time she did start trying to push me for gossip on if I thought you were cute or if I was seeing anyone, because she was wanting to set me up with someone. And I’m going to safely bet that it was you.”

He chuckles and then clears his throat, becoming all serious again. But you have one more comment you need to get out.

“I love your smile,” you state. His cheeks redden slightly and your own smile tugs at your lips. “I’m not sure what it is about it, but every time I saw it in an interview, or some fun little video, and especially at Christmas, I can’t help but fall harder and harder each time.”

Your statement elicits that lovely smile from him, but in a more bashful sense, something you never thought you’d see.

“You’re so adorable,” you giggle, reaching up to hold his face in your hand as well. The tension between the two of you was thick, and with your breathing mixing together, you were starting to get dizzy from it all.

This was all so much.

“Can I…” he starts, but hesitates, trying to gauge the look in your eyes. He takes a deep breath and then continues. “Can I please kiss you now?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you from how he phrases his words. He sounded so desperate but also so careful.

“Please,” you beg quietly, inching your hands into his hair to tug at the locks at the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. Within seconds, your lips meet in a searing but gentle and nervous kiss, both of you testing the waters for now. But when Seth feels you leaning more into it, he deepens it just slightly, not wanting to go too far tonight, but also wanting you to know he’s serious about this and it wasn’t a one-off thing.

The kiss ends much to your dismay when Jarvy pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Go on a date with me,” he all but demands. This elicits a giggle from you before you kiss him once more.

“Of course I will,” you reply, moving down to cuddle back up with him.

Finally, the two of you were settled in all cozy, no longer on edge and wondering if one thing is going to upset the other. Now that the admission of your feelings was done and over with, the two of you could relax against each other, knowing this meant more than just two friends falling asleep with one another.

With his soft touch running along your back, soothing you to sleep, you were out like a light in minutes, but Jarvy stayed up, watching whatever episode of your show that was on, often looking down at you to make sure you remained asleep.

He fell asleep not long after, the grin on his face remaining there like it was stuck forever, holding the person he loves most in the world, feeling like he was on cloud nine, knowing life could only get better now that you two had admitted your years-worth of pent up feelings

#seth jarvis #seth jarvis imagines #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fanfic #hockey #hockey fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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daisynik7 · 1 year

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Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday.

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

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The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying.

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth.

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours.

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment.

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children.

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade.

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you.

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor.

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol.

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him.

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass.

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.”

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting.

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?”

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger.

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all.

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons.

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command.

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg.

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him.

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him.

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth.

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering.

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight.

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock.

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment.

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can.

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger.

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips.

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient.

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word.

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper.

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.”

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence.

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too.

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession.

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead.

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?”

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke.

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen.

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave.

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.”

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking.

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him.

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food.

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt.

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment.

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.”

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud.

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him.

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?”

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already.

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself.

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way.

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rillils · 3 months

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STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 3/4 (here are part 1 and part 2)

i just want to preface this by saying: as much as they tried to make this movie all about tony, and as much as they tried to no-homo the steve/bucky situation, they still somehow ended up making CACW the gayest movie in the whole cap trilogy, and that's saying something *throws confetti*

now, picking up where we left off:

aided by his friends sam and natasha, steve spends the following two years or so chasing after bucky, looking for clues as to where he could be hiding, until he eventually finds him.

their reunion scene is like. i honestly don't know if i can convey the sheer, ridiculous, absolute beauty that is this scene.

the thing is, steve isn't the only one who discovered bucky's location: the bad guys did too, and they're coming. like they're coming RIGHT NOW, as sam keeps trying to warn steve. which means that he and bucky have about 20 seconds to do this, and that might sound like too short of a time, right? but honey, the amount of repressed emotions and homoerotic subtext these two manage to stuff into those 20 seconds, my god--

no because like, there's a whole-ass SWAT team outside, waiting to crash through their door and blow up the place, yeah? and instead of getting the fuck out of there PRONTO, steve, mr romeo fucking rogers, decides to spend those precious few seconds trying to get bucky to admit that he loves him, making this much yearned-for, long-awaited reunion the most high-stakes game of gay chicken in the whole of history. you might think i'm kidding, but i'm not!!!!

INTRODUCING:

in the red corner, we've got steve basically telling bucky: "i know that you remember me, i know that you saved me because you still love me, please will you just say it out loud babe"

and in the blue corner there's bucky, extremely conflicted because YES, of course he loves steve, but he also knows he's putting steve in danger just by standing in the same room as him, and steve shouldn't even be here in the first place, and anyways STEVE NOW'S NOT THE TIME PLS FUCK

so he's just (unsuccessfully) trying to deny everything, you know?? "fuck no i don't know you, just know your name from a museum, what do you mEAN i saved your ass because i love you more than life itself and that's literally the first thing i remembered when i got my memory back"

(a quick reenactment:)

but really, you'll see the love in bucky's eyes if you just look hard enough.

n- no, look harder

a bit harder?

see, i told you

so here they are, just about to slam each other into the nearest wall and make out like it's brokeback mountain and they're just two guys coming from a time where their love had to be kept a secret and they miss what little privacy they used to have in their own little bubble when they were younger and living together and then life tore them apart and they haven't seen each other in ages and they've been yearning all the while and now that they're finally standing before each other again the air feels electric between them and they just can't help but- wait. uh. that, uh. that sounds familiar. uh.

OKAY so they're totally about to snog the living daylights out of each other, but time is running out. the bad guys are here!! and- and also a bunch of other people! because apparently everybody wants bucky either dead or locked up for one reason or another!! MY BOY CAN'T CATCH A FUCKING BREAK!!

so bucky is apprehended. but before anyone can do much about it, this other guy - this movie's Official Antagonist™ - gets bucky alone and triggers bucky's brainwashed assassin persona into taking over.

no longer conscious of his own actions, bucky wreaks havoc in the building, knocking people down in his wake like a sexy buff steamroller, and tries to escape; but steve, desperate not to lose him again, goes after him and stops him.

by grabbing onto a fucking helicopter, as one does

one extremely romantic, freaking insane stunt later, steve manages to get bucky to safety. next thing you know, bucky's waking up and back to himself, and they finally have a bit longer than 20 seconds to talk. you think they're gonna be normal about this? you think they're gonna share a standard heart to heart conversation? oh hell no, babes. WHIP OUT THE BEDROOM EYES, TURN THAT SOFTNESS UP TO ELEVEN, WE'RE UNLOCKING A BRAND NEW LEVEL OF EMOTIONS HERE

seriously. you don't know what true tenderness is, until you've heard james buchanan barnes softly say, in his sweet, gruff, velvety drawl, barely holding back a smile, "your mom's name was sarah. you used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

also the two of them just. spend half the scene making INTENSE heart eyes at each other, gazing deeply and intimately in each other's eyes, just bypassing the flirting zone to move straight to eye-lovemaking lane, while sam is in the room, because they've got no chill whatsoever.

unfortunately, sam cockblocks reminds them that they don't have time for this shit (dammit, sam) as they kinda have more pressing matters at hand, being on the run from like every government in the world (and then some). also they must neutralize The Antagonist™ before he can act on his Evil Plan™, so, you know. put the eyesex on hold, guys!

(to be continued in part 4)

#stucky #stevebucky #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #part 3 :D #so this got too long and i thought it'd be best to split it in two parts #hence the change from 3/3 to 3/4 #rillers scribbles #i'm still not 100% sure how to tag it in the first place tbh xD #but here #have some silliness in your day #cacw

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stupidstrawberrystars · 2 months

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Okay! I have this fic idea. Wolfstar and Jegulus. Ready?

So, Remus and Sirius have been on/off dating since Hogwarts. They’re currently off and have been for the last year, the longest break they’ve had so far.

Regulus didn’t go to Hogwarts, and runs into Sirius one day at a cafe and they get to catching up. Regulus and James flirt but, despite prompting from Regulus, James won’t ask him out.

So once the brothers are vibing, maybe a month after re-meeting, Sirius introduces Regulus to Remus and they hit it off. Platonic Moonwater is living it up.

And then Regulus decides to introduce his friends to his brother and the others. They get along alright(ish) but Remus really hits it off with everyone (mostly…)

So Remus starts hanging out with the Slytherin Skittles more often.

Say like 2-3 months later and they’re all hanging out (Skittles and Remus) and Barty goes, “I’m the opposite of gullible, I never fall for your shit Regulus” after some conversation about Regulus’ tricks.

And it gives Regulus an idea.

So later that night when they’re alone, Regulus comes to Remus with said idea.

There’s a fancy social event happening in like two weeks that Regulus is invited too. And he’s got a plus one. So he suggests Remus and him go as a “couple“ to prank Barty. And Regulus isn’t supposed to know Barty will be there (you can thank Evan for telling him) so it’ll seem like Remus and Regulus are just trying to get away from everyone and be together in secret.

Remus is in since he’s been finding Barty a bit annoying and wants to prove that he is gullible. Plus he’s doubting Sirius intent behind his recent flirting with Remus and he could use a fun night out to distract himself.

So they go. They go and they trick Barty so fast it’s laughable… but Regulus has been weird all night. He keeps sneaking glances at the door to the big fancy room they’re in, and 30 minutes ago he asked Remus if it’d be alright if they kissed to fuck with his homophobic boss who’s here… except they still haven’t done it? And Regulus isn’t super touchy.

Just when Remus is about to ask what’s going on, Regulus turns to him and announces they must kiss. And they do.

It’s alright. Regulus makes some joke about Sirius’ pining making more sense now he knows what a good kisser Remus is. And Remus doesn’t even get to ask about the “pining” because from the other side of the room, a very familiar voice yells “WHAT THE FUCK?”

And then Sirius and James are stood in front of Remus and Regulus.

Oh. That’s why he’s been watching the door. Regulus knew Barty would tell James, to be a pain, and that these two would come here and see their kiss and then, what? Beg for them back?

Regulus played Remus. The genius.

Anyway, Sirius starts talking, contradicting himself every next sentences, going from saying he’s happy for them and doesn’t want to lose them, to calling them names and accusing Regulus of backstabbing him. Then he leaves. James whispers, “I should’ve asked sooner Reg. Taken my head out my arse. I’m sorry.” And follows Sirius. Clearly Barty told them what they told him. They’ve “been together” for two months. James and Sirius both thought him and Regulus were an actual real couple.

Remus freezes for a moment but then he heads to the exit to follow them, Regulus close behind. And Remus shoots him a look. An annoyed one.

So they get outside and before Sirius and James can get in a taxi, Reg yells “WE’RE NOT DATING YOU DICKS!”

Sirius turns around and silently walks over to Regulus with the most murderous look on his face. And whispers “What?”

Then Remus decides to interject, “We’re not dating. For the record though, we could. You two have been fucking hopeless at communicating with us. Hell, we’ve been broken up over a year Sirius.”

And Sirius turns to Remus, and with a slightly raised but wobbly voice, he answers, “We’ve been on and off again since we started dating Remus. We weren’t supposed to end on OFF. I still have the fucking ring I was going to give you before you broke up with me, it’s in the corner of my room. And while you’ve been kissing my brother, I’ve been planning a big gesture to ask you out again for months. Fuck, I was going to do it next week. The anniversary of when we met.”

(btw Remus broke up with Sirius but because Sirius was pulling away and they weren’t talking. They’re at equal fault but where Remus has been trying to talk, Sirius has been brushing it off and just flirting).

But long story short, Remus kisses Sirius and they’re all happy again. Oh and they agree to get some couples therapy. Cause that’s always important.

Then James makes his cutesy speech, going all, “I should’ve gotten over myself sooner” and “I wanted to make it perfect” and “I thought maybe you didn’t actually like me and just liked out flirting thingy” and, after some torture from Regulus, pretending to say no, they hook up too.

And everyone’s happy :)

#dead gay wizards #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #regulus black #wolfstar #jegulus #fic ideas #fanfic ideas

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bluerosefox · 2 years

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Danyal, Danny, Phantom.

Part 1 (Where the idea came from, very bare bones)

Okay wow, wasn’t expecting so many people wanting a part 2 tbh, also thank you for the follows as well (although IDK why you’d want to follow me, I’m random and rarely post sometimes.)

So before I get into this part 2, I just wanna make a few things clear.

I’m still new to DC/Batman most I know if from the animated series and I haven't seen it in ages, I have been able to get bits and pieces here and there though.

ANYONE is welcomed to use these ideas/concepts, just let me know, send me it, allow me to read it please. If anyone wants to draw some the ideas too that’ll be amazing, just let me know! I wanna see!

Also, I might, keyword MIGHT, actually write this idea into a story too, idk yet maybe. its been years since I wrote an actual fic tbh so I’m a little rusty. (You can actually see I used more of my writing style on this one compared to the last one tbh)

Also the reason I split these idea/concept into parts is the fact I tend to ramble and I knew if I wrote it on part 1 it would had gotten so long so here’s a fresh page with the rest of the ideas...

So the reason why I had this idea is because I read some fics where Ra’s always knows about Danny being either the Ghost King or a Halfa, or can fight him cause he has knowledge, I wanted a story where even Ra’s can be surprised and realizes there will ALWAYS be a ‘bigger’ fish even for that old ‘immortal’ (especially if Danny is Ra’s “failure of a heir.”)

Sorry this took a while, I wrote Part 1 at the end of me being sick by Covid, had to catch up on a few RL things, and legit a few days later my AC unit upstairs broke during a CA heatwave and it was pure HECK being in my room.

Danny is a little out of character but this is how I feel he'll be like with a year of being the Ghost King could be, along with the fact he has help from his friends and ghost friends as well. He's learned how to rule and has grown.

Oh be prepared, this is what happens when I’m allowed to ramble on ideas. This... This got rambly. (You should had seen this and part 3 together, it was so rambly)

So, a few things to note about Danny before we begin.

His name was is Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) Daniel “Danny” Fenton.

He was also known as (Ghost Boy, Ghost Child, Ghost Punk, Halfa) Danny Phantom

He also had other names as well such as The Great One, or Savoir of the Ghost Zone

But... for the last year he has been known as...

Ruler of the Infinite Realm, His Royal Highness King Phantom. Or as he would rather be simply referred to as (when he’s forced to have/use a title)...

The Ghost King.

...King Phantom also worked.

Simple yes, but Danny preferred it. (Again only when he’s forced to use a title, which sadly since being crowned the new King is most of the time now and only those close to him still call him Danny or at the very least Daniel (coughClockworkcough).

SO.... Its had been a year since Danny had been crowned the new Ghost King, sure he was still a teen and it was honestly very hard in the beginning. Learning the ins and outs of the royal courts, setting up his inner court (aka those he trusted), dealing with entitled nobles, and how to handle the the weight of the crown he now wore but he knew he didn't have to face it by himself. Well not all of it, there was a few things he did on his own in order to prove he's a fair King, but Danny honestly loved it when he could get together with his inner circle (more like family) and discuss the recent news of the Infinite Realm (which Danny learned was the actual name of the Ghost Zone, he long since switched to using that name over the one his parents coined), problems needing to be addressed, and upcoming important festivals or days (Danny knew of the Holiday Truce but he didn't know of any other Ghost holidays/festivals until his ghost friends explained them to him) along with a number of his Kingly duties. This was just barely touching the surface of what Danny had to do nearly daily and again it took a while but he eventually was getting the hang of being a King.

Funny enough one of those duties turned out to be healing the oozing scars the old Ghost King left on the Mortal Realm during his reign... because those scars eventually became the Lazarus Pits and had they been causing harm in the Mortal Realm.

By the Ancients, the Lazarus Pits.

That was something Danny hadn't been expecting to hear so soon after regaining his memories from before living with the Fenton’s. And when Clockwork explained it to him, a small smirk on the always age changing beings face, that all the Pits would eventually dry up thus they would no longer be able to revive the dead once Danny started healing them...

Danny had laughed when he had been told this information.

He laughed until he had started to cry. He had even laughed so hard he changed back from his ghost form to his living one and then back again because he lost breath from his laughter. (It actually concerned his friends, Dani and Jazz when this happened tbh) It took a while but when Danny’s laughter finally trailed into hiccups, light coughs, and deep breaths, Clockwork merely floated over and asked with all-knowing smirk on his face “Quite done Daniel?”

You see the reason why this was funny to Danny was the fact that he was finally getting revenge on his ex-grandfather for... well for everything. And he was going to enjoy ruining Ra’s al Ghul treasured little Lazarus Pits with pure glee. The amount of pure joy he felt knowing this even surpassed his feelings for when he’s able to mess up Vlad’s evil plans for the month.

As mentioned before, Danny had no memories upon waking up in a hospital after nearly losing his life from wounds no child should ever have on their bodies. It wasn’t until the night after his crowning that as he dreamed of his past, it was in these dreams he had finally remembered everything. When he had woken up he had instantly went flying to Clockwork’s lair to speak with the time keeper, especially when he had remembered the last thing he had saw before waking up in the hospital.

[“Why?” that was all Danny would ask when seeing the ageless ghost, not bothering to say hello or even small talk like they normally would do, if he had been his living form he would had been breathing heavily from the speed he flown to get there.

“It hadn’t been your time, your Highness.” was the only reply before the ticking of clocks in the room filled the silence between them.]

He had been Danyal al Ghul, the second heir to the Demon Head Ra’s al Ghul, the League of Assassins leader and his grandfather, son of Talia al Ghul, and twin brother to first heir Damian al Ghul.

Talia, his mother, was a stoic woman. A true Assassin. Beautiful yet deadly. Someone Danyal could see now who would do anything to stay in power if he was to be honest with himself. But she did love him and Damian in her own way, only showing them this parental love when they were alone, away from servants and other assassin’s eyes. Some of his fondest memories of the woman had been her cupping his face and speaking softly of how much he looked like her “Beloved”, their father. His eyes, and hair (and his 'soft' heart) were the only things he knew about his father, the only thing he has been allowed to know.

Damian, his twin brother, both of them mostly sharing the same face with small differences and build at the time, his other half, the one that he had came into this world together had, was, is the one Danyal would die for. And he did. His brother was the prefect heir, the prefect budding assassin in the eyes of the others in Nanda Parbat. Much like their mother he tended to try to hide his emotions behind an emotionless mask, he always carried himself stronger than Danyal would, despite them both being five years old they had been born into this life and learned very quickly how to survive that place. But behind closed doors the two would often talk in whispers, of the what ifs of their lives, how their day was, etc etc. Danyal’s fondest memories of his brother was them sneaking out to watch the stars late at night and making a promise to always face any problem together as they held hands and lightly tapped each with their fingers.

His grandfather, Ra’s however was a ruthless and cold man. An ‘immortal’ due to the Lazarus Pits that always brought him back to life, and he had always hated Danyal. No matter what Danyal would do it was always a failure to his grandfather, it didn’t matter if he tried his hardest to be a ‘perfect’ little assassin like his brother, everything he did in the older man’s eyes was a mistake. Any mistakes Danyal did was often met with punishment and pain. He had no fond memories of the man, only a deep seeded mutual dislike if anything.

And it was with this hatred for Danyal, that had caused Ra’s to summon both his grandchildren one night to the combat room and demanded for them both to fight for heir ship. A fight that would end in one of them dying, something all of them in room knew it would lead to. A fight two five years did not want to do but had no choice. Not even Talia’s disbelieving single protest to the fight could not stop Ra’s command.

As the Demon Head, his word was law.

In the end, Danyal couldn’t wouldn’t harm his brother (his grandfather always hated how ‘soft’ his heart was, "to much like his father" was often said with a tsk). They were both only five years old, they were brought into the world together, they told secrets behind closed doors and whispered dreams under the endless sea of stars they would sneak out to see, they would lightly tap messages with their fingers when the other would have bad days and didn’t wish to speak about it but wanted some sort of comfort.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t harm his brother but Damian... Danyal knew Damian would follow the order to fight despite not wanting to as well, Damian always followed orders with little to no fuss unlike Danyal who always second guessed with whys and questions, Danyal also knew Damian would believe he would fight back in defense at least...

But he didn’t.

Some of the few things he remembered was Damian’s eyes widen in horror, his mother’s uncaring mask and body twitch for a moment, and his grandfather ‘tsking’ at him before he fell onto the cold stone floor. After that his memory became hard to remember, foggy but he knew of this.The pain he felt hurt and he tried so hard to stay alive for a few moments more, he could barely hear anything over his own harsh and deep breathing, his body felt heavy and his hands felt wet from the blood seeping out around him. Danyal could barely hear his grandfather’s voice, and could barely make out Ra’s leaving while his mother guided Damian out of the room, she did not look back and Damian moved like a puppet on a string being pulled away. Danyal barely registered hands lifting him up and carrying him out of the room, his vision slowly fading as he was carried in the dimly lit halls of his ‘home’. His memory became very spotty after that, barely noticing he had been left outside the compound to die and as he took in a harsh breath in an attempt to get air, he could hear two words as clear as day.

“Time Out.” and the only sound following those two words was the ticking of clocks while the last thing he saw was the always changing form of a ageless being.

After that Danyal would be found outside of a random hospital in America, far from his place of birth, far from his mother and brother, barely hanging as doctors rushed to save this five year olds life. He would awake weeks later, with no memories of his own to speak of, and then one night a strange star plush/pillow would be gifted to him with the name Daniel on it. He would be bounced around foster home to foster home after he was cleared to leave the hospital and the cops had no leads on who or where he came from.

Daniel would eventually meet Jazz at the park and later her parents and worm his way into their hearts, he would later be adopted by them and live a somewhat normal life (as one can be with ghost hunting parents but at least he got Jazz as an older sister, even with Jack and Maddie’s rather unhealthy... obsession with ghosts he knew they loved him)

Ra’s failed second heir was no more, his name and life no longer mentioned in Nanda Parbat, Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) was by all intents and purpose dead to the man and to the League.

Now Daniel “Danny” Fenton lived in his place...

Up until that fateful day when he was fourteen, after that he was only half alive and once again became someone kind of new. A halfa this time. Danny Phantom.

And who would had guessed (not Ra’s that's for sure), he later would become The Ghost King, the Ruler of the Infinite Realm.

So imagine Danny’s surprise when as he had left his house for school one morning, he may be a King but hey he still needed his education according to Jazz (and Clockwork), when he had been ambushed and attacked by some assassins from the League and knocked out... (Shush his own assassin training was rusty and he hadn’t had time to practice them too much, his last major battle had been that all out brawl a week before his coronation with him vs his enemies, fun times. He also rarely got kidnapped since his crowning, half awake due to his Kingly duties and studying for Mr. Lancer’s 70% final grade test (Fun fact I had an actual teacher who did this) that Friday and honestly Danny wasn’t expecting assassins from the League to show up since the whole being pretty much declared dead to them thing)

Only to later slowly wake up on the familiar rough stone ground in Nanda Parbat (the smell, the sounds, the stonework. He often saw them in his dreams and memories but knew it was real this time) his hands bound and his body aching from laying motionless on the hard ground for a while. He put on a confused look on his face as he slowly rose and groaned in pain as he subtly took a moment to look around.

Thank the Ancients Danny still knew how to fake an injury, and play dumb/confused from his time tricking some of the his more annoying ex-enemies? (Skulker, Walker, etc.) even though it had been a year since he last had to do so with them (besides Vlad, he’s still his enemy no matter what and still seemed really salty Danny was a King now and was treated like an outcast by most ghosts, none wanting to be the opposite side of their King so hey perks). It had been a good way to make them drop their guards if they thought Danny was still at his ‘weakest’ when they caught him by surprise. It still pretty funny when Vlad tries though, this act always catches that fruitloop off-guard no matter how many times.

It was a Lazarus Pit room judging by the smell/feel of it at first and later confirmed when he noticed the green toxic ooze nearby. Ugh just being on this side of the Realm and sensing that stuff was disgusting, it wasn’t as bad in the Infinite Realm due to the fresh and clean ectoplasm around it masking most of the bad smell but boy did it reek on this side.

Danny blinked a few times to sell his acting, whispering a confused “Where am I?” under his breath, and looked around before his eyes landed on someone in front of him and flinched back a bit, no acting needed this time.

Ra’s was in the room sitting on a throne chair staring at him with that ever burning hateful glare yet Danny could see another emotion, an emotion he was very used to Vlad having on his fruitloop face. His ex-grandfather had a plan and it was gonna be painful or annoying for Danny to deal with, he knew it...

And...AND was that knocked out Batman and Robin also tied up in chains and guarded by few assassins in the room as well?! WHY IS THAT A THING?!

-x-x-

Heyyyyy so... umm I decided to split it into another part cause it was getting mega long again when all together and I was like roughly halfway done with it and just... I wanted to write out so much, also Tumblr almost made me loose the WIP of this many many times so I’m being careful. Good news almost done with it (and it won’t take as long as this part did promise)

This is basically Danny’s side of things of being King, his inner thoughts, his past relationships with the al Ghul’s, and snippets how he had grown into his King self tbh. Probably didn't need to do this but as an old school writer I wanted to make a base so to speak. The best and fun part is up next. and to prove it, here’s the title and a sneak peek for it.

Summoning a King (Or alternatively: It was at this moment, Ra’s knew he F’d up.)

Yeah as said before it took ALL of Danny’s training not laugh in hysterics. Oh the irony. Sacrificing the Ghost King... to summon the Ghost King.... Danny honestly wanted to say something, the words on his lips being a sarcastic “You sure that's gonna work out for you, you moldy old fruitloop?” but Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing so.

TAGLIST:

Also I’m starting a tag list so if anyone wants on it for the next part please let me know asap so I can add you.

[EDIT: Taglist now closed until next update! Sorry!]

@sxnkisses @thenerdycupcake @sealover89 @remydumb @moonscat @fuck-you-too-world @hecate-hollow @ae-vixrose

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

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Flyboy (Part 6) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: food / eating (one mention of the phrase “you are eating too little”); general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; geographical inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Well, Part 6 is here……. I don’t know what to say; but I teared writing this at some point, and I am insanely nervous (Idk why) about posting this, so please let me know your thoughts? We still have the Epilogue, so this baby is not done. I have blurbs / one shots / Flyboy asks that will follow - I’m not sure if the taglist wants to be tagged in the blurbs / one shots that are original (i.e. not asks), please let me know?

As usual, THANK YOU ALL <3 for loving Flyboy, I LIVE for your comments, tags, reblogs, and it has been an utmost pleasure reading them. KISSING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist (If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 6

PART 5 <<

Approximately 6.4k words

“Sooo,” the sound of Phoenix’s voice catches you off guard, and you jump as you straighten up from the bend you had been in, in your attempt to reach towards the back of Penny’s fridge to grab four bottles of beer, spinning around to face her.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say, and she smiles, almost too sweetly as she helps you shut the fridge grabbing two of the beer bottles you had wedged between the fingers of one hand from you.

“You and Hangman,” she says pointedly, staring intently at you.

“What about it?” You question, trying to be as casual as possible, while you pull open one of Penny’s drawers, searching for a bottle opener.

“Is something going on,” she leans against the counter of the kitchen, forcing you to look directly at her. Truth to be told, you and Jake had hid it pretty well. Perhaps not to Penny, Mav, or any other third party who saw you both together, but to the clueless bunch of Naval Aviators who, despite being the few to spend the most time with you both, had not made much of it.

The physical tells were something they hadn’t made much of to begin with, a sure result of having seen Jake flirt his way through too many women and situations over the years. However, the near fight at The Hard Deck where they had seen him at his most protective ever, pure, white hot rage radiating off him - only for you to dispel it so easily, coupled with the subtle, but sure shifts in Jake’s demeanour, had started to arouse suspicion.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” she continues.

In all the years since she had known Jake, Phoenix had never seen him this way - more at ease, more open, happier. It wasn’t to say that his personality with the rest of them had changed drastically, Jake Seresin, was still very much Hangman, boisterous, confident, cocky (particularly in the air), always ready for a challenge, to show and tell that he was better than you, and to say whatever the hell he wanted, but he was also different, somehow happier, with the undercurrent of an unobvious calm and peace to him that they could just feel. It was unnerving to say the least, because it wasn’t something they had seen before, were used to, or had ever known Jake to be.

Bob had noticed it first, the Monday after the week Jake had cancelled fried chicken Friday, after days of sharp but silent observation. It had resulted in Bob telling Phoenix, who then told Rooster, who had went on to relay the message collectively to Coyote, Payback and Fanboy. A group decision was made one afternoon by way of a show of open hands or fists, resulting in Phoenix being the chosen messenger to broad the subject with you.

The difference in Jake had managed to be both outwardly noticeable, and yet not, all at the same time. On the surface, Jake was still Jake, swagger in his step when he walked around TOPGUIN, extolling his own virtues, taking little joking digs at all of them when he could, particularly when they were in the air - “C’mon Rooster, thought the chicken finally learnt to fly.” / “Trace, what does the baby on board in your backseat see?” / “Try to keep up Trace.” / “Aaand, the Relic is off the ground, that ladies and gentleman is called a Pete Mitchell” / “Payback? You mean the thing you can’t dish?” - but come dinner, when they had trooped back home and to you, Jake was somehow different.

The comments were still there - “Sorry boys and girls, I know it must be tough trying to match up to me.” / “Like how Trace and her baby on board fumbled today.” / “Thought Bradshaw was trying to hatch some eggs with the amount of time he was nesting.” / “Garcia and Fitch are always just taking it.” - but at the same time, Jake’s smile was wider, genuinely hitting his eyes and making his greens sparkle; his laugh louder, natural with nothing held back; his body language more open, any tension that he held during the day seemingly having melted away.

More importantly, as they had all come to notice, Jake never left you behind - whether it was purposefully falling behind everyone to bring up the rear just so he could fall in step with you; watching you out of the peripherals of his eyes the moment you left his side at The Hard Deck, right up to the moment you returned just to make sure that you weren’t waylaid by unwanted attention; or even the simplest act of making sure your order never got lost among the barrage of orders of the group; or that you were never cut out, lost or disengaged in the conversation when it dragged on to more Navy-orientated topics which you weren’t as familiar with.

Sure, Pheonix and Bob had caught sight of you and Jake running around the compound one Saturday afternoon, with him sprinting ahead in the last stretch in absolute glee, you yelling at him while trying to catch up, leaving you, quite literally, behind and in his dust - but even then, they had seen with his own eyes, Jake Seresin standing at the finish point, eyes fixed solely on you, waiting for you to meet him, as you yelled and protested your way to the end.

You pull the bottle opener out from the drawer, popping open the caps of the bottles in her hands, and then in yours, before dropping it back, and pushing the drawer shut with a hip. You beckon to Phoenix to exit back out into Penny’s backyard with you to rejoin the group and she follows, her question still hanging in between you both.

You step back out into Penny’s backyard, the cool evening air hitting your skin, your eyes meeting briefly with Jake’s as he looks up in the middle of his conversation with Rooster.

“You’ve only seen Hangman before,” you finally say, you both still out of earshot from the group, before you take a few steps towards the table, “now you get to see Jake.”

She opens her mouth to push her question again, determined to draw out a clear answer or confession from you, only for Jake’s voice to cut in above the chatter, making Rooster turn his neck to glance at the both of you as you return.

“Trace, you got that dog with a bone look on your face,” he starts, “do I have to take you out for harassing my girl?” Jake’s voice is loud enough that it carries across the table, pausing the chatter among the group for a second.

You feel your face heat as you hand a beer bottle off to Bob who receives it with a “thanks”, as he exchanges a look with Fanboy who is seated across the rectangle shaped table, before you settle back into the chair flanked by Jake, and Coyote who is waggling an eyebrow at Payback.

You see a smug, triumphant grin on Phoenix’s face, her question finally answered, as she hands one of the bottles to Rooster before sliding back into her seat beside him.

“Finally,” Penny breaks the moment of silence, throwing up her hands at the confirmation of what she knew, but had been waiting for, for the longest time, Amelia grinning wildly beside her.

“Hear, hear.” Mav raises his beer, to which Bob also does, and the group follows, cheers erupting from Penny’s backyard.

The attention makes you groan, and you hide your face in your hands, turning your body into Jake’s. You had talked about it after the other night at The Hard Deck, and had decided that it was time for the rest to know, directly from you both. You can hear the rumble of his own laughter in his chest, Jake clearly unfazed and not the slightest bit embarrassed at the attention, as he snakes an arm around your shoulders, securing you against him. It only makes the cheers louder, with Coyote sending a loud wolf whistle your way.

“Uncle Jake!” The roar of a little voice greets you both as you step through the doors and into the lobby of the hotel. You see a small blonde head sprinting at top speed towards you both, barrelling itself into Jake’s arms which had opened just in time to catch him.

“All this excitement just for me?” Jake exclaims back as he swings his nephew, Kyle, around in the air, before squeezing him tightly against his chest, only for the little boy to squirm in delight.

You see Emma, Jake’s older sister approach, her husband, Liam, and toddler Layla, approach.

“Full attire, really, Jake?” She scoffs taking in Jake’s uniform, but clearly teasing, as she takes reaches out to hug you hello, before coming to a stand in front of her brother.

“Not all of us are on vacation,” Jake shoots back as he sets Kyle down on his feet, before the siblings embrace each other, “some of us still have to work.”

“You only wear it for the looks you get,” Emma retorts with a snort, but being well aware that he had just come from work, as Jake and Liam thump each other on the back in a hug, before Liam reaches out to hug you hello as well.

“Well you gotta agree, I look good.” Jake smirks, not missing a beat, while bending to pick Layla off the ground, hoisting her in an arm and tickling her belly, the toddler shrieking with glee. “Can’t deprive the world of all this now, can we?” He coos the question at Layla who only giggles, patting her uncle’s cheek with her hand.

“I don’t know how you put up with him,” she looks at you as you ruffle Kyle’s hair in a hello, the boy beaming up at you, before slipping his hand into yours, tugging you around in a circle in his excitement.

“None of us do,” the familiar voice of grandma Doris interjects as she and Grace Seresin née Walton, walk into view.

“She’s too sweet to be putting up with your brother,” Grace chimes in, with a glance to her son, who just shrugs, a lazy, self-assured smirk plastered to his face.

Emma tugs Kyle out of your hands, for grandma Doris and Grace to greet you with hugs of their own, before they move onto Jake, who embraces them each with an arm, Layla still nestled happily in his other, her head resting between the crook of his neck, thumb now in her mouth.

“Thank you,” Emma grabs your hands in an exaggerated fashion, clutching them dramatically as she throws a look to Jake, “for putting up with my brother’s clown ass.”

The words coming out from Emma, a grown woman, with perfectly coiffed hair, and designer clothes and shoes that cut a stylish figure, makes you burst out in laughter.

“Just doing my bit of charity for the world.” You manage to say, before grandma Doris links an arm with yours, pulling you towards the door of the lobby, a signal for the rest to follow.

“I’ll cut him out of my will and put you in,” she tells you in a loud stage whisper. You don’t turn back, but if you did, you would have seen Jake grinning broadly, a fond look in his eyes, his niece still cuddled up against him, as he takes in the sight of you and his grandmother walking arm in arm.

“You know,” you turn to face Emma at the sound of her voice, clearly directed at you, “he cares about you.”

You both are seated at the end of a table, in the corner of the hotel lobby’, watching as the other members of your party are crowded around the massive cake display case to a side, Layla in her Grace’s arms, and Kyle in Jake’s, Liam and grandma Doris flanking them, as the children attempt to decide which sweet treat to pick.

“I know,” you say, small smile on your lips, as you focus on Jake, before looking back at her.

You and Jake had been mindful of yourselves around the Seresins, not because it would have been an issue, but because you had insisted on not wanting to overshadow their time together with Jake. He had tried to convince you that there wouldn’t have been any overshadowing involved, but you had, with a little help of your hands and mouth, had managed to capture his undivided attention, and be extremely persuasive, to which Jake relented. You weren’t sure if Emma knew, or suspected at the very least. You had always known her to be astute.

“He would probably kill me if I told you this,” she begins, as she leans back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap, “but slightly over three years ago, when you had told him about Dan, that guy you were seeing, he was noticeably…” she pauses, searching for the right words to use, “worked up.”

“I didn’t know,” you start, as you find your gaze wandering back to Jake who is now squatting beside Kyle, both blondes peering into the bottom layer of the display case. “He never said.”

“We were both home during that period,” she recalls, “and staying with grandma, and I found him in the gym abusing a punching bag. His knuckles were raw, eyes like a man crazed.”

She pauses, as you look back to her before continuing.

“I had Kyle with me, he was still just a toddler at that point, and it took him crying for Jake to stop. He told me, quite angrily I might add, that Dan wasn’t good enough for you”, she says as she unfolds her hands from her lap to reach out to squeeze your forearm, “and you deserved so much more.”

She meets your gaze, squeezing your forearm gently again, before adding after a moment of consideration, “I think he meant himself.”

Her words make your jaw slacken, your lips part slightly, as you remember Jake’s words in the car from the other day when he had only said “less so” since you had started seeing Dan.

“My brother can be a dick to a lot of people,” she starts again, a rueful shake of her head, “but not to you, never to you. He’ll never hurt you.” Emma says as she offers you a final smile, as you hear the voices of the group returning to the table.

“We got chocolate and a red velvet,” Jake says, as he slides back into the chair beside you, Kyle clamouring from his lap into yours. He finds you looking at him curiously, a strange expression on his face and he tilts his head to a side, asking silently if you are ok, before darting his gaze to Emma who immediately turns her attention to Liam.

You nod, with a slight tilt of your ahead, signalling that you are fine before you turn your attention back to Kyle who is describing to you, in vivid detail the chocolate cake that he chose.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” Jake asks you for the tenth time since you had both left the house, “you’re already in the car.”

“I don’t,” you shake your head as you watch him glance out the side mirror, checking for cars, before he makes the turn. “You should spend some time alone with them before they go back.”

It had been a Seresin filled week, with you spending almost all of your time with grandma Doris, Grace, Emma, Liam, Kyle and Layla during the days, with Jake joining the group only in the evening once he had managed to get out of work. He had however, managed to spend an entire full day with the group yesterday, a Saturday, which largely comprise of him and Liam, chasing Kyle and Layla around the beach, while you, Emma, Doris and Grace watched on, chatting idly.

Emma and her family had left earlier in the morning, but his mother and grandmother who had booked themselves into a later flight, scheduled only for the late afternoon, had asked Jake to meet them for breakfast.

Jake opens his mouth to say something as he glances at you, and you shake your head again, pre-empting his response, your tone firm.

“No Jake, they deserve your undivided attention.” You knew you were always welcome with the Seresins, but you had wanted to give grandmother Doris, Grace and Jake the time they deserved together. You hadn’t made mention of it to Jake, but had gathered from their previous trip to see you in New York (sans Jake), that they missed Jake more than they cared to let on. It wasn’t easy having a grandson and son far from you; what more one that was a Naval Aviator who could be deployed for 6 months, to an undisclosed location at the drop of a hat. You had missed Jake yourself, worried about him during his stints of deployment over the years, even if were both already separated by state, so it was easy for you to empathise.

The seriousness to your voice makes him shut his mouth, choosing instead to reach across the center console and place a hand on your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly in understanding.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You ask, and Jake shakes his head no.

He had sent his truck off to the workshop, only to have it grounded for a couple of days. You had tried to strong arm him into taking your car, seeing that he was due back to TOPGUN for an afternoon of flights, despite having been able to wrangle a few hours off to spend with his mother and grandmother before they left, but Jake Seresin, if anything, was a stubborn man, who had refused, not wanting to leave you inconvenienced. You had both reached a comprise, being that he would drop himself off to meet the Seresins, and grandma Doris would get her car to drop Jake back at TOPGUN before she left. It wasn’t the smartest solution, but it was the most he would budge on it.

He pulls up kerbside, in front of the hotel his grandmother and mother were staying in and shifts the car into park. You both exit, and Jake waits for you beside the door of the driver’s side, holding the door open, while you step in and up into the seat and buckle yourself in.

“See you later?” He asks, a rhetoric question, but you nod anyway and he kisses you swiftly on the corner of your lips before shutting the door on you and jogging over to the kerb. You duck your head to peer out of the window on the passenger’s side and he winks at you. You press a kiss to your fingers, blowing it at him, and it earns you a wide smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling. You let yourself take it in, Jake smiling, with his hair combed back, uniform hugging him in the right places, before you lift a hand in a wave and drive off, thinking to yourself, god was he handsome.

“You’re eating too little.” Grandma Doris asks, eyeing the bowl of yogurt, and granola in front of her grandson.

“Don’t want to be throwing up mid flight.” He explains before popping the spoon into his mouth. “I’ll have more for dinner.”

She hums in acknowledgement, settling back into her chair, while taking a sip from her tea cup, eyes studying her grandson.

“So,” she starts casually, almost too casually for her, and it makes Jake drop his spoon as he leans back to take her in, “were you planning on keeping your poor grandmother in the dark forever?”

Jake knows what she is referring to, but opts for raising brow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“That you both finally became more than just friends.” Grandma Doris stretches out the word finally, and Jake raises his glass to his lips, but his smile is barely covered.

“What gave it away?” He asks, after taking a gulp of water and setting his glass down.

“You did be blind not to know,” Grace scoffs, taking a sip of coffee. You both had hid it well, but a mother always knew her son.

The relationship you and Jake had, was something that had always been special - he was more himself around you, more the Jake that Grace had knew, loved and known from the first day she had held him in her arms, and you, well, you somehow managed to tolerate him, during the good and the bad, accepting him for both his good and bad; but this time, this was different.

Grace had always seen a glimpse of something more in her son’s eyes when he looked to you, only when he knew that you weren’t watching, but this time - she had seen it in his eyes, when he had looked directly at you, and had seen you meet his gaze with the exact same look, of equal intensity in your eyes. She had seen the quiet, content, smile that flickered briefly across both your features, and she just knew.

Her suspicions had been confirmed the night before when Grace’s own mother had nudged her and motioned out the window of the hotel lobby, both of them watching, just in time to catch you run a finger over the the sunburn blooming along the bridge of Jake’s nose, laughing about something they couldn’t hear, to which Jake only reached out to pull you towards him, your face colliding with his chest, body shaking with laughter as he planted his lips on the top of your hair, while saying something that caused your shoulders to shake even more.

“Weeks,” he says vaguely, not bothering to count the detailed specifics, not because Jake didn’t care, but because he didn’t need to with you - not when he was sure you were his forever. He had expressed outrightly that you were his girl - because even when you hadn’t been, you had somehow, always been his in one way or another - and Jake hadn’t asked you explicitly, the question of “will you be my girlfriend?”, but it hadn’t mattered to either of you; the question seemingly unimportant and trivial, when you both already just knew.

Grandma Doris observes grandson from her perch across the table, the light in his eyes that she had always saw when he looked at you had finally come to the front, and it was dazzling. She places down her teacup, fingers of her right hand working to slide the ring she had the fourth finger of her right hand off. It was the simplest of the rings which adorned her fingers, a plain band, holding a single jewel, with the words “timeless” scratched onto the inside of the band, the engraving now dulled from years of wear, but still visible. She places it on the table in front of Jake, who looks down at it, and up again at his grandmother in surprise. He had never seen her take it off since he could remember.

“Give it to her,” she says simply, the implication behind her words clear - marry her. To anyone else, it might have been strange, but grandma Doris understood, it was Jake and you - she had watched quietly, as you both danced around each other for years. “There isn’t any reason to wait when you’ve already known something your whole life.” She say simply.

Jake picks up the ring, flipping it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the engraving on the inner band, before reaching into the shirt of his uniform, tugging out the chain with his dog tags, before undoing it and stringing the ring on.

“Well, this is me,” Jake bends down and kisses Grace’s cheek while engulfing her in a hug.

“Come back home soon,” Grace orders and Jake raises a hand to his head to giver her a mini salute.

“Yes M’am.”

“Everyone misses you,” his grandmother says as Jake bends in turn to hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your grandfather and father miss you.” His mother says, and Jake meets her gaze in understanding with a small tip of his chin.

Jake stands back, with a last wave, watching as his mother and grandmother enter the car, before the driver shuts the door.

Tash: Your man is an idiot.

You swipe open the message from Phoenix to come face to face with a picture of Jake and Rooster’s side view, each man decked out in their flight suit, sunglasses on their face, middle fingers flipped up at each other. It makes you roll your eyes as you shoot back a text.

Is Bradley an idiot as well?

She replies almost instantly.

Tash: The biggest.

You grin, shooting back a reply.

Lies. By the way, do you know what time you’ll be done? My idiot needs a pick up.

Tash: Come now, I’ll get Mav to abuse his “power” and sign you in.

“I’m not betting those 200 push ups today,” Fanboy’s voice crackles over the comms as the three planes, him and Payback, Mav and Jake push through the air. It was the last scheduled flight of the day, not entirely necessary because there weren’t any trainees scheduled into the slot, but it hadn’t stopped the four men from jumping into the plans to run the same training simulation of the day. Mav’s time old favourite, dogfighting - two against one.

It earns a laugh from Mav, and Jake snorts.

“C’mon boys, wussing out?” Jake drawls over his comms as he levels his jet with Fanboy and Payback, grinning out the window towards the two. It earns him double middle fingers from the duo.

“I’m not letting you hang us out to dry, Hangman.” Payback says disgruntled. It was undeniable that Jake had proven himself to be a team player from the uranium mission, but it didn’t change the fact that Hangman, being Hangman, still enjoyed blazing his own trail, particularly during simulations such as this where a run was just a run, and nothing was at stake. He would have them eating his dust whenever he could.

“How about a beer instead boys?” Mav asks, grinning lazily out of the window of his jet.

“I could live with that,” Payback jumps and latches onto the lower stakes, before clarifying the safety of his own wallet, “just among us four.”

“Game on,” Jake hooks his mask to his face.

True to her word, and you are not entirely sure how, Phoenix gets you signed into TOPGUN, meeting you at the guard house, and jumping into your car, directing you onward. She ends up leading you towards the control room, which she informs you, is filled with themselves and the trainee group today due to the afternoon long simulation flights they had been running. She scans her pass against the electronic lock and holds open the door for you while gesturing you in. You slip into the control room ducking your way past a few trainees, to come to a stand beside Hondo, who is flanked on his other side by Rooster and Bob.

“What did I miss?” Pheonix asks, and Hondo points towards the screen.

“They just bet Mav a round of beers if they beat him.”

“Do we all benefit?” Phoenix asks, hopefully.

“Payback made it very clear that it’s just between them.” Hondo grins, and it earns a dismissive snort from Phoenix

You can’t see the Naval Aviators up in the air, apart from the diagrams of little jets beeping on the radar alongside a counter, and a whole host of numbers you don’t understand; but you can hear them over the speakers in the control room, the sounds of breathing, and chatter.

“Where is he?” Payback asks.

“I can’t see him,” Fanboy.

“Probably hiding beneath us,” you hear Jake, “old man never changes his tactics.” He says, a jab at Mav, and the tone of his voice, makes you shake your head slightly; even you knew, to someone who didn’t know any better or who wasn’t used to him, Jake could very well rub people he didn’t know well the wrong way with his words.

You hear a set of three yells and curses, as Mav’s diagram reappears on radar, a set of numbers alongside the screen rapidly jumping as Mav angles his jet to shoot up between the other two.

“And yet, this old man’s tactics work every time.”

It earns a fist pump from Hondo, and you lean over towards the older man.

“Does he truly do that every time?”

“Works like a charm,” Hondo says, leaning back over to you simultaneously, headset still nestled in his ear, with a nod of his head.

“And they don’t learn?” You ask in slight disbelief at the fact that some of the best Naval Aviators in the country would fall for the same trick more than once.

“Kids,” Hondo laughs with a shrug and a waggle of his brows, and it makes you laugh out loud as you think back to a scene where you had been sitting with the lot, after dinner, watching them argue over which superhero, as portrayed in the movies, would come out on top, because you couldn’t agree more.

Jake hears it, clear as day, as he rights his jet, holding back on the acceleration into the planned tactic he was going to go into, even though it was just a soft crackle over the background his comms. He thought he had been dreaming that he had heard your voice, until the point he heard your laugh - he would recognise that laugh anywhere - your laugh.

“Babe?” He says into his comms, and it has Payback and Fanboy looking at each other within the confines of their plane, Mav looking out of the window from above, down towards Jake’s jet, the men all holding in the air, surprised at the sudden call from Jake. All heads in the control room swivel towards you.

Hondo slips the headset off his ear and passes it to you, nodding for you to take it, and you do, slipping it onto your own ear, taking a step forward, closer to the screen even though you can’t see him.

“Jake?” You say, your eyes focused on the mini green outline of his jet on the screen, his call sign flickering beside it.

“Yeah babe?” Jake says again, louder, more sure this time, his face breaking into a wide grin beneath his mask. In that moment, Jake feels like he is at the top of the world, despite having just been spun around in the air by the force of Mav’s jet - he is seated in a jet high above the ground, doing something he had willingly devoted his life to, with your voice in his ear at real-time, knowing that you were watching him.

“Give him hell.” You say, and you hear a roaring laugh of response through the headset in your ear, loud, open, unadulterated, genuine, every note of it being entirely Jake. It is familiar to you, but the heads moving back and forth in the room, eyes coated in surprise, tells you that it isn’t for everyone.

“For you darlin? Anything.”

It earns a whoop from Coyote who is standing to the right of the control room. Jake, who is up in the air grips his center stick, wide grin still on his face. He can feel the ring, dangling from the chain beside his dog tags, a cool circle pressed against his chest. He takes a deep breath.

“Alright boys, hope you’re ready, because Hangman’s coming.”

“Tone!” It is a span of mere minutes, where you hear a mix of shouts, grunts and yells coming from the four men in the air, before you hear a loud prolonged beeping sound, and Jake’s voice crackle over the comms, shouting out the single word with a whoop. It earns wide eyes from around the room, and approving nod from Hondo who is behind you, a “yes” from Coyote and a clap from Bob.

“Fucking Hangman,” is what you hear Rooster murmur from behind, clearly impressed.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tash mumbles as she walks up to you, before clapping her hand on your shoulder. She knew Jake was good, heck - everyone knew, despite having only been selected as Dagger Spare for the uranium mission, he was the only one among them (not counting Mav) who had a count of two confirmed air combat kills, but to get tone on Mav, something none of them had yet to be able to achieve - now that, was impressive.

“Can we get her in the room everytime he flies?” You hear Cyclone mumble to Warlock from his position in the centre of the room, arms still crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the green on screen.

It makes you smile.

You make your way down along with the rest of the group, the only civilian amongst the group of Naval Aviators, hanging to a side with Coyote, Bob, Rooster and Phoenix as the jets grind to a slow stop and into a park. You can hear the chatter of the trainees, standing around as you watch while the top of Jake’s jet pops open, before he hoists himself out of the seat, stepping onto the wing to hop down onto the ground.

Jake yanks his helmet off his head, and you see him, grinning widely, from ear to ear, his hair sticking up, a sheen of sweat across his forehead, in his element, euphoria unmatched. It’s infectious and you feel your face break out into a matching grin, as Jake begins striding directly to you, helmet in his hand. He moves like a man with a mission, focused entirely on you, and the smattering of trainees move to a side as he approaches, it being clear that he has no intention to stop for anyone in his way.

You see him unzip the top of his flight suit, and reach beneath the black shirt he has on underneath, fingers pulling his dog tags out before he tugs them over his head.

“Jake?” He is three steps away from you, and the group behind you has involuntarily taken a step back, not sure of where this is going, allowing you both your space, and then, it happens.

Jake drops his helmet to the ground, the object rolling an inch away before it settles on his side. You are forced to look down as Jake drops a knee to the ground. He leans his elbow on his other knee, which is bended, propped up by a boot that is pressed flat to the ground, and raises his hand towards you, fingers holding out a ring, still hanging from the chain of his dog tags, with a single jewel as the centrepiece towards you. You recognised the ring at once, having seen it as a permanent fixture on grandma Doris’ finger.

“Jake what are yo-” You start to say, but he cuts you off, answering your question at the same time.

“Marry me.” He says, a statement, not quite an ask as his eyes search yours, a smile, genuine, excited, earnest on his face. “Marry me, because I don’t want to have to spend another day not being able to call you mine.”

It’s a big ask, after only weeks, you both jumping the step where he had even asked you (officially) to be his girlfriend, but this was Jake, the man you knew better than anyone else; the man who you understood, and who understood you, without having to even use words; the man who you would do anything for, and who would do anything for you; the man you had spent the past few weeks finally getting it right with; the man you would say yes to in a heartbeat.

You search his face, his eyes now fixed on you, watching as you take it in, take him in. Jake has never been so goddamn sure of anything in his life. He had been sure the moment his grandmother had slipped the ring onto the table; sure from the moment he had kissed you at Annie’s wedding; sure from the moment he had asked you to come out to San Diego for 6 months; perhaps even sure from way before; but hearing your voice over comms, just your voice, pulling together his focus, grounding him, both literally and figuratively propelling him to greater heights, made him realise that he had already taken too goddamn long to do this, and that he would be a fool to wait even a second longer.

“I’m already yours.” You breathe out, pushing out the breath of air you hadn’t even been aware you were holding. It is enough for him, and Jake reaches forward to tug your hand towards him before he slips the ring on. It fits your finger like a glove, his dog tags still dangling from the other end of the chain still attached to the ring, like a part of him to you. He stands, holding your hand in his, pulling you close so that your body is flush against his. Jake smells of jet fuel, sweat and soap. He reaches up with his other hand, to cup your jaw in his palm, a thumb running over your cheekbone.

“Jake?” You say, softly, as he leans in an inch.

“Yeah.” It makes him stop, face slightly apart from yours, but so close that you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I love you.” You say out loud for the first time, and you see the wide smile break across his face as he presses his lips to yours. You love him, you’ve loved him, just as he love and has loved you.

“I know baby.” Is what Jake says first against your lips, in true Jake Seresin fashion and you can still feel his smile, as he finally says, “I love you too.”

You hear the thunderous sound of cheers in the background, the loudest coming from the group of Naval Aviators you had come to know and love. A plane flies past, roaring overhead in the sky, and you kiss Jake back, one of your hands still gripping his, the other on the back of his head, feeling the damp roots of sweat in his hair, pulling him into you. You feel like your heart is soaring, your flyboy in your arms.

>> EPILOGUE

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j @shanimallina87 @chiffondaydreams @capswife @averyhotchner @unordinare @smokey102 @tallrock35

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heavenlyakin · 1 year

Text

Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Here's a little late Valentine's Day fic! Minors DNI.

Genre: mild angst, fluff, and smut (the holy trinity!) oh and a little comedy

Warnings: some light couple fighting/bickering, cunnilingus, fem reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Atsumu nearly loses it as you clench around him, body writhing beneath his. Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts open to let out another breathless moan. He fights back every urge he has to bust in you now, not wanting to end the pleasure for either of you.

“Tsumu,” you whine, your eyes opening, glossy with love and lust.

He can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself. He cums deep inside you with a final thrust, his breath catching and then a groan escaping. He opens his eyes to look at you, but you start to fade from view.

Atsumu wakes up abruptly, jerking his arms and sitting up. His forehead drips sweat as he shakes his head. Another wet dream, he realizes. Flipping the covers off him, he sees he’s made a mess of himself again. He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you’d just come home already.

Looking over at his alarm clock, he sees it’s 3:34 am, just after lunchtime for you on the east coast of the United States. He never imagined you’d go no contact while visiting family back home, but he also never imagined you’d have such a detrimental fight just hours before your flight.

–

2 Weeks Prior

“That’s really close to Valentine’s day, right?”Atsumu asks you, peering over from the couch. You’re surprised to see he’s looked up from the volleyball game he put on half an hour ago.

“Yeah, I’ll get back here on the 14th, actually.” You tell him, drying the final plate and putting it away in the cabinet.

When you look back at Atsumu you see he’s frowning.

“Look, I didn’t buy the ticket. If you have an issue with it, take it up with my dad.” You walk over, sitting down beside him on the sofa.

He wraps his arm around you and you lean into him, curling up on the sofa beside him. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you sit with him in silence. He’s watching the Argentinian team again, the one you can never remember the name of. All you do know is that one of the players is from Japan and going to be playing in the upcoming Olympics against Atsumu this summer. You assume he’s keeping tabs on him.

“What if you didn’t go? I’ll pay to change your flights so you go after Valentine’s day and once practices pick up and I’m not home as often. I-”

“Atsumu, why don’t you want me to go home?” You snap, sitting up and moving his arm off your shoulder. “I haven’t been home in over a year and missed Christmas with them.”

“Baby that’s not-”

“No, it is. You’ve been whining about this trip since my dad booked the flight.” You stand up, storming out of the room and to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Atsumu has never made a big deal about Valentine’s day before, given you’ve spent two previous together you didn’t think it would be bad getting in on that day. Sure, you’ll be jetlagged and exhausted, but you’d still be able to go out if he wanted to, but last year you had takeout in your pajamas after a particularly long practice. Why would it be any different, especially since his prep for the Olympics has already been so intense, and will only begin to pick up more?

Either way, he’s not getting his way this time. It's not like you’re keeping score, but you tend to give in to his wants more now that you’ve moved in together, even sacrificing Christmas with your family to spend it with his family and meet Osamu's baby. How does he not understand that you just need a few weeks to spend with your family as well?

You grab your suitcase from the closet and begin to fill it, rather haphazardly. You’re more productive when you’re worked up, anyways so you might as well use the energy. Plus you leave tomorrow night, it’s not like you have too much longer to get your stuff together.

A light rasping knock draws your attention to the bedroom door. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just am going to miss you is all.” He says opening the door and leaning on the frame, looking rather defeated.

“It’s fine,” you tell him, going back to packing your bag. “I just need some time to pack and then sleep before the trip tomorrow.” Atusumu looks defeated but smiles anyways and leaves the room.

Even though it’s clear he feels terrible about pestering you, it’s too late now for your attitude to shift. It’s not like you enjoy your sudden shift in mood, but once you're feeling foul there isn’t much you or anyone else can do about changing it. Overall, it’s just better to let you ride it out.

–

Your nails bite into your palm as the plane starts to land. Flying has always been fine, but the landing has always made you nervous, mainly because you hatehow it makes you bounce around. Luckily, you didn’t have anyone beside you for the flight back home to Japan, so you have been comfortable for the long journey.

You find yourself picturing Atsumu fighting the airport traffic, cursing and threatening to honk at the people in front of him. Usually, he’s the one at fault, but you’ve learned to just let him rant and rave since he never actually makes a fool of himself to others… just threatens it.

The next half hour goes by in a flash, it’s grabbing carry-ons, waiting in line, and fighting for bags at baggage claim. Next thing you know, your phone is buzzing with Atsumu’s picture as he calls you.

“Hi baby,” you answer softly, but loud enough to be heard over the airport chaos.

“I’m right outside your terminal. Are you already off the plane?” He asks, not sounding as excited as you expected him to be.

“Yeah, I just grabbed my bags.” You tell him.

“Alright.” He’s in a mood, you assume. He’s rarely this short with you.

Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You hang up as you head towards the exit doors.

You see his car before you’re out of the doors. He managed to get a good spot right up front. Dragging your suitcases behind you, you manage to make it to the car without pulling anything. You’d only brought a carry-on home, but your parents had gone overboard to make up for your missing Christmas, you had to pay for two checked bags to bring back.

Atsumu jogs towards you, taking the bags from you and loading them into the car, silently. He smiled, but that’s the most affection you received from him. You slide into the passenger seat, pulling out your phone, and scrolling to find some pictures to show Atsumu on the drive home and tell him about your trip. He hadn’t texted you much during the time you were away, so you assumed it was because he was so busy with practices so you didn’t bother calling or texting him more either.

Atsumu gets in the driver’s seat and starts to take off. “Want to see some of the pictures from my trip?” You wave your phone around smiling. “Everyone missed you this time.”

“Everyone?” He side-eyes you, and you frown.

“What’s up your ass?” You ask, putting your phone away in your pocket. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.”

He sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder. “You texted me twice, in two weeks. You never called. You were angry when you left. So, sorry if I’m not the Mr. Sunshine you expected.”

“You’re seriously mad at me?” you almost laugh but decide it’s better if you don’t. It’ll probably only antagonize him more. “You could have texted or called me, but you didn’t.”

He looks over, his brows furrowed. Opening his mouth, it looks like he’s about to speak but then he closes it again, deciding against whatever he was going to say.

“Happy fucking Valentine's Day.” You sigh, leaning against the door of the car, looking out at the city as it passes you by.

The rest of the car ride home is deadly silent. Neither of you even bothered to put on the radio or Spotify. It’s awkward but you refuse to give an inch and apparently, Atsumu feels the same way. You sneak a glance at him as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment, seeing he looks exhausted. How hadn’t you noticed that before?

Maybe you should give in, you think to yourself. Before you left you had been snippy with him, even if you felt like he was trying to get you to not visit home. It’s stupid, how high your temper can run without stopping over little things like silly comments. You hadn’t even thought about it while you were gone, only focused on visiting and getting back here; home.

Atsumu parks the car, and you look over at him again. His knuckles are still white from gripping the steering wheel.

“Let’s not fight anymore.” You suggest softly, knowing his stubbornness won’t let him give in. This could be worse than the Cold War if you let it continue.

He sighs, his hand reaching up to his forehead. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair, pushing it back from his face. “It’s been hell. These last two weeks, absolutely agonizing.” He admits, leaning back against the seat and looking over at you.

“I’m sorry, Tsumu, I didn’t know.” You tell him, reaching out and taking his hand.

“Wanna know something funny, though?” He smiles, the silly grin you love so much.

“Sure,” you squeeze his hand softly.

“I kept dreaming about fucking you, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He laughs, tilting his head back and looking at the roof of the car. “God, I even came a few times in my sleep. Can you believe it?”

“Oh god,” you laugh with him, imagining the way he must have been mortified waking up to that not only once, but a few times. “Maybe we can make up for it after dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” He looks confused as you nod.

“It’s still Valentine’s day. It’s not too late for us to get ready and go out. I can be fast,” you open the door and get out of the car.

Atsume follows, popping the trunk and getting your luggage from the car. You're quiet again as you take the elevator up to the apartment, but not the awkward kind as you rode in during the trip home. You hold his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder when you can until you’re out of the elevator and making your way to the apartment.

The next bit is a rush, playing out in front of you like it’s not real. Maybe it’s jetlag? You had just traveled for upwards of 18 hours. Or it’s the rush of knowing after weeks you’re finally going to sleep with your boyfriend again? Not even the dirty kind, just the excitement of sharing a bed, your bed, is exciting after weeks of sleeping in the guestroom of your parent's house.

After your shower, you dress in an emerald green dress that has a golden sheen to the fabric. Underneath, you made sure to pick out Atusmu’s favorite pair of lingerie underneath a honey gold set with thigh straps attached to the thong.

“Holy shit,” Atsumu leans against the door frame of the bathroom as you’re applying your last coat of mascara.

You smile sweetly, turning to look at him. He’s dressed in navy blue slacks and a cream button-up shirt. “I’m ready to go.”

Atsumu pulls you by your hand into him, wrapping his other arm around you. “I’m not.”

He kisses you, pulling you closer against him so you’re flush with his body. Your dress rides up in his hand, exposing your ass. He smacks it once, making you yelp against his lips. He laughs deeply.

“There’s no way we’re making it out tonight.” He mumbles, his voice gruff.

You giggle as he pulls away, pulling you with him and pushing you against the bed. Your dress has now risen above your pelvis, bunched up underneath and around you. Atsumu takes one look and groans, smiling wildly at you.

“You fucking angel,” he drops to his knees in front of you. He licks you over the fabric of your thong, sending shivers down your spine in anticipation. “Would it be stupid if I told you you taste sweeter than honey?”

You laugh, sitting up on your elbows. “Yeah, a little. But I like it.”

He grins at you from between your thighs. His tongue pokes out again, slowly circling the fabric over your clit. The teasing pressure is too much, you want his tongue on you. Whining, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and he pulls back.

“Ah ah ah, no rushing this. I’ve literally been dreaming of it for weeks.” He says after pulling away and lying his face on your thigh. He looks ungodly pretty like this, and you hate him for it.

“Please, Atsumu I need you.” You whine, pouting your lip out.

He grins again. He loves seeing you beg, even when it’s as half-assed as that. You can’t be expected to give more though, after all the day is starting to wear on you.

He pulls the thong aside and drags his finger down your cunt, covering it in your wetness. “Fuck, you’re so needy.”

You nod, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back against the bed. As you bounce lightly against the mattress, Atsumu takes advantage, pressing his tongue against your clit. You moan, gripping the sheets and forcing yourself to stay still.

He sucks lightly, sending waves of pleasure from your spine to your toes.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, eyes fluttering open to watch him as he eats you out. He doesn't notice, too lost in you to care about what else is going on. His tongue slides down, teasing your entrance when you feel his fingers slip in.

The stretch overwhelms you. You can't keep your eyes open now, closing them tight as he starts to finger fuck you while sucking your clit again.

“Tsumu, of god,” you mumble out with moans traced between words and syllables.

Gripping the bedding harder, you fight back the overwhelming urge to cum now. You hadn’t even masturbated while you were gone, and now it’s so much at once you’re struggling to stay afloat. Atsumu must know, the way he flicks his tongue and twists his fingers in sync sends you over and you cry out. Cumming you can’t help but arch your back and press your cunt further against Atsumu’s pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant quietly, trying to regain some composure after the waves of pleasure start to roll off you.

“Oh, Angel, you barely lasted five minutes.” He crawls on top of you, his face shiny from being between your thighs. He kisses you softly on the lips.

“Who can blame me?” You laugh, taking his face in your hands. You kiss him again, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion taking over your body. “I doubt you’ll last much longer.”

You push him off you, flipping positions.

You pray he cums quickly as you pull his pants down his thighs. Not for any normal reasons but you’re not sure you can stay awake much longer. The eager look on his face suggests you might not have to.

#🍃.writing #atsumu miya smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut

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smileyerim · 1 year

Text

i think i’m in love with you (i am!)

inspired by: 9:45-9:52 of this video. (“What if I’m making a wedding dress for my girl?”)

pairing: fashion designer!mark x model!reader

genre: fluff fluff fluff

length: 800+

warnings: none just love <3

net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet

. . .

It’s no surprise to say that Mark loves you. From the moment you first walked into his studio, he knew he wanted to mean something to you. From the way your eyes lit up when looking through his sketches, to the way you listened so intently to his plans, to the knowledgeable comments you made on the hand of the fabrics Mark knew he was done for. He needed to know you.

Thankfully, he did. He asked for your number near the end of your fitting “in case any changes are needed” and you gave it freely, that made him happy. Not even 2 days later he’d texted you asking to take you out to coffee. You read and responded “yes” to his question immediately.

Now you’re here, 3 years later and more in love than Mark ever thought possible. He proposed to you last spring in the middle of a cherry blossom meadow after coming up with a fake excuse about a photoshoot. Considering you know your way around scenarios like this pretty well due to your profession, you saw right through him but you let him go on his little spiel acting surprised when he got on one knee.

You’ve been engaged for 6 months and wedding planning has been kicking your ass, and Mark’s new collection coming out in 2 weeks isn’t helping with your collective stress. Recently, you and Mark haven’t been spending time together. You’re busy with work preparing for fashion week and he’s doing the same with his own fashion show to put on. You miss him dearly, and he knows it’s been weighing on your heart how he comes home and immediately falls into bed.

You miss him, and today you’re going to do something about it.

Mark is very private about his studio space, he doesn’t like people in there who don’t need to be. You’ve only been in a handful of times, once being your first meeting, but you like to stay away as much as possible to respect his private space. It’s his space to be creative, let loose, decompress, you don’t want to get in the way of that.

Except today you will. After packing a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bagged snack size chips and beer you’re on your way up to his studio in the old lift near the concierges desk. You wanted to surprise him for all his hard work recently and pull him away from the sewing machine.

Through the door you can hear him talk to himself and a smile creeps up on your face

“If I just cut it on the bias the drape will be nicer and will flow down the aisle-“

“Surprise!” You burst through the door to see a stunned Mark jump, make fearful eye contact with you, and then move in front of the dress form behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He stands still holding the dress form against his body behind him.

You giggle as you step up to him, placing the grocery bag on the work table in front of you.

“I’m here to surprise you with lunch! Aren’t you surprised?” You say.

“Definitely.” Mark says, still holding the dress form tight behind him. His eyes are wide and he doesn’t seem as happy to see you as you had hoped.

“What’s wrong? I promise I won’t steal your designs and send them to Prada.” You joke, leaning over to the side to try and see behind him. He leans with you, nearly tripping over himself to guard your sight.

He laughs a nervous chuckle, “I know, it’s just-baby, wait-“ you stand and move to his side of the table and finally catch a closer glimpse at what he’s guarding and a soft gasp leaves your lips.

“Mark,” he lets out a sigh and his head drops in defeat, “is that?”

“I was going to surprise you with it. I wanted to show you how much you’ve been on my mind since I’ve been away for so long preparing for fashion week.” He finally moves to step away from the dress form and towards you, and the wedding dress comes into your sight.

“It’s not done, this is just the sample so it’s not pretty but-“

He’s cut off by your arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Happy tears stain the neckline of his t-shirt as he holds you close.

“Baby, are you crying?”

You sniffle and look up at him, “Of course I’m crying! I love you so much, Mark Lee.” You say before landing a soft kiss he reciprocates immediately on his lips.

“I love you too.” He says softly looking into your teary eyes.

For the next hour Mark walks you through the plans he has for the dress, showing you samples of the satin silk and the lace he’s planning to use for different portions of the garment, allowing you to even pick out the buttons he’ll fix on the back. Two beers down and a lot of smiles and kisses later, you’re sure you made the right decision by spoiling his surprise.

#neowritingsnet #kflixnet #autumn writes mark #mark lee #mark lee fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 #mark fluff #mark imagines #mark drabble #mark lee imagines #nct imagines

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steddie Notes Part 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

They’re stuck in the Upside Down.

Nancy. Robin. Eddie. And Steve’s so fucked up from the bats, every breath, ever movement, has him in agony, and he just keeps seeing Eddie here, and it makes it all so much worse. This was never supposed to happen. And how was Steve supposed to keep him safe, keep them all safe, when he could barely stand upright from the pain?

Eddie walks a little way ahead with Nancy, fled after saying, “for your modesty, dude,” and throwing his battle vest at Steve’s face. It leaves Steve with Robin as they navigate the vines and random earthquakes to get to the Wheeler’s house.

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin asks.

Steve narrows his eyes. “You mean other than being dragged across a dry lakebed and eaten by fucked up bats?”

“Is it. Eddie?”

He bites his lips between his teeth. Of course Robin knows. She always does. “I hate that he’s part of this, Robs. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“You think it’s your fault.” It’s not a question.

“How can I not.” His voice catches and he has to clear his throat before he can continue. “You got dragged into this just by being friends with me. And now Eddie? If he wasn’t our friend—if he wasn’t my—he would be safe.”

“Steve. You know that’s not true. Chrissy was cursed already. She would have always died that night. Eddie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not your fault.”

He nods, tears pooling along his lash lines. “We kissed,” he croaks out.

“What?” Robin shrieks loud enough to echo across the desolate, cursed landscape.

Eddie and Nancy glance back in time to see Steve knock his shoulder against her arm. “Quiet,” he hisses.

“Sorry,” she frowns. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner! When? How? Are you together now?”

His mouth twists. “No. I think I fucked it up? It was—fuck—when he came over after Chrissy. He was so upset, and I was comforting him, and it just happened. I feel like I took advantage of him.”

“So, you haven’t talked about it?”

He gives her a look again. “When would we have had the time?”

“Okay, okay. But he doesn’t seem mad. I mean, he still gazes at you all lovestruck and ridiculous.”

Heat bursts under the skin of Steve’s cheeks. “He does not,” he mumbles.

“But you do need to talk about it. Obviously. You two have been pinning for years.”

“It’s a year and a half. At most. Not even.”

“Feels like years to me.”

Steve scoffs, falls silent. “I’m scared, Robs. What if he doesn’t like me back? He was too upset when I kissed him, and—I pushed it too far.”

“You did pick a truly terrible time to kiss him, and you two should probably talk about that, but Eddie isn’t going to be upset that you have feelings for him.”

“How do you know? There’s no way you can be sure. I don’t want to risk everything.” “Steve, I—” Robin’s mouth contorts into a complicated series of o’s as she fishes for words. “We’re already risking everything,” she says. “With the Upside Down. With Vecna. When we’re back topside, you should take the time you need to talk to him, okay? I promise that, even if he doesn’t like you like that, he’ll still love you as his closest friend.”

He can’t think of the words to argue with, so he nods, stuffs his hands into the pockets of Eddie’s battle vest. His finger catches on something deep in the right pocket, accompanied by a telltale burst of pain. Steve hisses, retracting his hand, a drop of scarlet beads from a small slash at the tip of his index finger.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He wipes the blood on the vest—it’s already soaked with it, anyway.

“You okay?” Robin asks, her blue eyes sharp at Steve losing more blood.

“Yeah. Munson’s keeping sharp shit in his pockets again, is all.”

He reaches back into the pocket to find the offending weapon and finds a crumpled sheet of paper. An amused breath bursts out of him as he realizes what it must be, and he fishes it out with hesitation.

It’s crinkled and grimy with age, but Steve unfurls it anyway. It’s his own handwriting at the top: “You ever been in love?”

He doesn’t remember writing it, not clearly. There’s a vague recollection of wobbling around, crossfaded in his bedroom, scrawling words on the first acceptable surface he finds. Doesn’t remember giving it to Eddie, but he’s responded; it’s scrawled right there beneath Steve’s question: “No, but I think I’m falling.”

Steve stops in his tracks, staring at the note, eyes darting from the paper to Eddie. A bright pulse of hope sticks in his throat. They’re going to get out of the Upside Down, and when they do, Steve is telling Eddie everything.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

He doesn’t.

Nancy is taken by Vecna and then they fall into planning mode, apparently RV theft mode too (“don’t cha, big boy” is never going to leave his head), and in the panic and fear, there isn’t time.

There’s a little part of him, too, that doesn’t want to say, “I love you,” like it’s a good-bye. He meant it when he told Robin he still has hope, he does, refuses to accept any outcome that isn’t success, that leaves one of their rank dead.

So, he doesn’t talk to Eddie, and they’re in the Upside Down for their last stand and all the words and emotions pile up on his tongue but can’t find flight.

He, Robin, and Nancy turn to go, he’s already kicking himself for his silence, when Eddie’s voice rings out, “Hey, Steve?”

Steve turns fast, almost overbalances, but the meeting of their eyes steadies him. In the rich brown of Eddie’s, Steve thinks he sees all the things he wants to say echoed back. They gaze at each other in silence that thickens every millisecond until Eddie says, “make him pay,” and Steve lifts his chin in acknowledgement. He knows it’s not what Eddie means to say, thinks he understands why he can’t.

There will be plenty of time for their confessions when they get out of this alive. And they will. Steve is sure of it.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It’s over.

It was hard. Bad. But it’s done. Vecna a smoldering ruin on the Upside Down version of the Creel House lawn.

Steve doesn’t feel triumphant, exactly. They’d almost died, strangled by the vines, briefly outmatched by Vecna. He is relieved, though. Eager to get back to the trailer park, to Eddie and Dustin.

They traverse the Upside Down, silent now and free of earthquakes, closing in on the trailer park in record time.

Up ahead, Steve makes out a hunched shape that must be Dustin in his ghillie suit. He wonders where Eddie is, but he’s not afraid.

He picks up speed to close the distance faster. “Dustin!” he shouts. He means it to sound excited, triumphant, but it’s strangled. His heart’s beating too fast.

Steve is near enough, makes out the dark heap at Dustin’s feet. Someone is chanting a high-pitched, unbroken rhythm of “no, no, no, no, no, nononono,” and it takes him several long moments to realize the sound is coming from his own mouth. He can’t make himself stop.

“Steve,” Dustin sobs. He’s covered in red, leaned over Eddie’s prone form.

There’s so much blood, congealing in dark pools on the grey earth.

“Eddie, Eddie, hey, hey,” Steve falls to his knees, fighting off the panicked keen building in his throat at Eddie’s mostly closed eyes.

“Babylove, honey, sweetheart, please, please look at me, okay?” There are bites on his cheeks that Steve avoids, tapping at Eddie’s cheekbones with shaking fingers.

Eddie’s eyes flutter, try to focus, but drift. “S’vie?” he rasps.

“Hey, hey, It’s me. We’re gonna get you out of here, but you got to stay awake for me, okay?”

“N’ver thought I’d go to heaven,” Eddie mumbles, he fights his eyes from rolling back.

Steve forces a laugh. “What a line, man,” his focus shifts. “Robin, Nancy, we need to stop the bleeding.”

They work in a flurry of motion, Steve talking to Eddie, struggling to keep him alert.

“You gotta stay with me, Eds. Okay? I can’t be without you. You know that, right? You’re everything, Eddie. Everything.”

Eddie smiles with teeth full of blood. “Whatever you say, angel,” he whispers. His eyes slide shut.

Steve swallows his scream, hefts Eddie into his arms, and runs.

(Part 7)

This is a rough one, please feel free to shout at me about it. Thank you so much for reading! One more part to go; and don't worry, nobody dies and there's a happy ending.

I can't add anymore tags, but I appreciate each and every one of you for coming on the steddie notes journey with me! 💜💜💜

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probablynoposts · 2 years

Text

MC figuring out their home is destroyed pt. 2

Here’s part 2, part 3 will be out at some point. I hope you enjoy this!(Hope you like dialogue)

ooc character(s)?, part 1, part 3, part 4?, masterlist ______________________________________________________________ You were acting different, everyone noticed, but no one said anything. No one had to. You have been missing from classes and other school activities, even Grim who’s your dorm mate claims he’s barely seen you. All of the teachers have been acting weird as well, especially Crowley, but none of the students mentioned a thing. At least not to the teachers. Rumors spread fast about the Ramshackle prefect who no one had seen in the past few days. Even your friends aren’t immune to hearing the gossip.

“Why’s Shrimpy hiding away from us now?” Floyd wines, he tried to go the Ramshackle himself, but he was stopped by Crowley. “And it’s not like the Dire is being any help right now.” Floyd thinks to himself for another few moments. “Maybe the mirror wasn’t able to send Shrimpy home, and this is all due to Dire Crowley’s lack of effort to get them home.”

Jade nods, Azul rolls his eyes at the twin’s efforts to find an answer. Now Jade speaks up. “Hey Azul, how about the weekly dorm leader meeting? You could try and find out what’s going on with [Y/N].”

“That’s assuming the Prefect isn’t exempt from the meeting, as they’ve been exempted from classes. They’ve been missing and the teachers haven’t said a thing, their name hasn’t even been called during roll.” Azul explains then right as he finishes, two idiots from Heartslabyul burst in.

“Floyd! Do you know how to pick locks?” Ace yells.

“Sort of, why?” Floyd responds, a grin creeping on his face.

“They want to pick the lock to Ramshackle and check on [Y/N].” Epel says as he walks in behind the Adeuce duo, Grim standing next to him.

“Hey! You’re making it sound like you’re not in on it too!” Deuce exclaims at the purple haired boy, Epel shrugs.

“Why don’t you ask Jack or Sebek?” Jade asks. “This seems to be a first-year get together.” Deuce and Ace looks at each other.

“Well we were going to ask Jack but he was in the middle of a run and we couldn’t catch up with him.” Deuce explains. “Yeah, and Sebek is..well…Sebek.” Ace adds.

“Do you actually have a plan?”

“We didn’t get that far-” “WHAT!”

Everyone turns after Epel yells, Rook, vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, is standing in the doorway. And before Epel can speak, Rooks offers an excuse. “Roi de Poison asked me to keep an eye on you. Now I’m here to help you get Trickster out of Ramshackle or at least get some answers. Now I know some more then others might be more against this then others, but breaking into Ramshackle isn’t the answer. We have to go to the person who’s most likely to have information AND answers.”

Everyone is quiet, trying to rack their brains. “Crowley” or “The Dire” or something of the sort is was blurted out by multiple people.

“Bingo.” Rook has a sly grin on his face, “Now here’s the plan…”

It’s a risky plan, everyone has to do their part. Even Crowley who is unaware of his own involvement. “Just wait for Crowley to start lurking around, then it’s go time.” Rook’s words play over again in Ace’s mind. Then there he was, Dire Crowley lurking, as he had been the past few days. “He’s here.”

“Dire Crowley!” It took some convincing, but it was none other then Riddle Rosehearts, dorm leader of Heartslabyul.

“Um, hello Riddle. Can we talk later, I’m a bit..how could you say…occupied..”

“No, I think we need to talk now.” Leona’s voice rings out.

“I would have to agree.” Vil Schoenheit, even agreed to take time out of his busy schedule to help.

Crowley seems to be stressed, to say the least.

One by one, all of the other dorm leaders stepped into the view of the Dire. All seven, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Kalim Al-Asim, Azul Ashengrotto, Idia Shroud(surprisingly), and eventually Malleus Draconia. Crowley is silent for a while.

“The information you wish is not mine to divulge,” he pauses, “but I can take you to the one you wish to see, and you can try your luck…”

______________________________________________________________ If you any suggestions of how to make the characters, please tell me! Also I hope you enjoyed part 2! Part 3 will definitely have them find out!

[taglist]: @naroshinozaki @animesimpanon @starriwonderland @jumiver

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twstx reader #twst oneshot #twst crowley #twst angst #crowley #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland angst #twst nrc #nrc #night raven college #nrc staff #oneshot #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst #idk what im doing #part 2

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hopepaigeturner · 26 days

Note

How would you like the writer of Bridgerton to write Bath scene in AOFAG if s4 is going to be Benedicts season

For the most patient nonny who must have waited atleast a year for me to answer this. I present...

An Offer From An Avid Reader: The Bath Scene.

That's right, it's finally here. All 4000 words of it.

NOTE: I do not write smut, however this has some heavy implications of sexy shenanigans so I am rating this a 15+

Right, let's get to it.

✨The Context✨

This is not necessarily a scene, but more the 'bath sequence' as I shall call it for there are some humorous asides that add to the bathroom scene itself.

Also, as in the books, this scene takes place after the jail scene, but there are a couple tweaks:

The bath scene takes place at Bridgerton House not at Benedict’s bachelor lodgings. It takes place in a bathroom that is connected to two rooms that used to be Eloise’s and Francesca’s shared bathroom.

My jail-break scene is split into two so it’s not an info dump. So what’s happened is all the elements of the jail scene: Benophie reunites, the impromptu proposal, Posy swooping in and saving everyone while the magistrate slowly loses the will to live…But no Violet vs. Araminta showdown. Araminta hasn’t been blackmailed—sorry persuaded—to keep Sophie’s heritage a secret or announce her as legitimate.

Therefore, Benophie are still headed towards their original destination—living a modest life after being cast out by polite society, due to the indecency of Sophie’s heritage.

Finally, pre-jail scene, the last scene Benophie would have been in together was the sofa scene (read part 1 here, and part 2 here). They literally haven’t talked since then other than Benedict sending Sophie a letter she never read.

Hence this scene is still romantic, and will get steamy, but also a lot of unresolved conflict will be sorted out. And starting out both Ben and Sophie haven’t really been able to calm down over the last two days…

✨The Scene✨

Kate is the one who finally shoos everyone out of the bathroom after noticing how Sophie is utterly overwhelmed.

Sophie finally shuts the doors and rests her head on them. The viewer sees unshed tears in her eyes as the emotions of the last couple hours—and even the last few days—threaten to burst out of her.

Then she hears a knock from the other side of the bathroom.

“Sophie?”

Sophie almost seems to collapse in relief, instantly drawn to the other side of the bathroom.

“Benedict?”

“I am here.” The camera switches to the other side of the door, where Benedict stands. Benedict puts a hand on the wood. “I do not need to come in, but I just…” he puts his head on the door.

The camera shows both sides of the door, Benophie pressed up against each side in mirror positions--a slab of wood preventing them from resting their foreheads on each other. Just as they were at the end of the sofa scene.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe…that you were…” Benedict’s voice catches on the thousand scenarios still reeling in his head, “that you were here.”

“I am here.”

“I know. I know.” Ben’s smile is small but fleeting. He takes a shuddering breath. “I shall leave you and give you some peace—”

“Please do not leave me,” Sophie says her voice small, but sure. “Please come in.” And with that she unlocks the door.

Benedict stares at the door. A door that Sophie has chosen to unlock—for him.

With reverence, he walks in to find Sophie some paces away, her dressing gown clutched around her.

For a moment they stare, then they soften. And then there is a blur and they are in each other’s arms, tears streaming down both their faces. With Benedict buried in the crook of her shoulder crying.

“I am so sorry, I am so sorry.”

They separate slightly, foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed.

“No, I should be the one apologising…”

“No, no I must apologise.” Benedict says, his voice clogged with unshed tears, “I told you that I would protect you, I promised to keep you safe and I could not, she…she could have…” he shudders, “I am so sorry.”

“Benedict, Benedict, no.” Sophie cradles his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You came back for me, you rescued me.”

Benedict shakes his head,

“Posy was far more significant in that matter.”

“That is not what I meant.” Sophie takes his hand and places it on her heart. “You saved me here. Your love…your words…your deeds helped me.”

Sophie herself shudders as she recounts,

“Before you arrived, Araminta found me, and she taunted me with all her usual tricks and barbs that she has inflicted upon me since I was a child. And in the past, they have worked…you see, for my entire life, all those who were supposed to love me, would always step away: my father, Araminta and my stepsisters. And I would try so, so hard, but all I seemed to do was make people miserable and I think…” Sophie’s voice becomes clogged, but she continues, “I think I started to believe a long, long time ago that I could not be worthy of love, that I did not…that such things could not be for someone like me.”

“That is not true—”

Sophie puts her fingers on his lips and Benedict stills.

“I am coming to understand that. I am starting to believe so…and part of that is because of you.”

Benedict shakes his head emphatically, Sophie smiles.

“I said part, not the whole. What you did, as you do for so many others, is help me unveil the truth within myself. And the truth within myself is that…” Sophie smiles brilliantly, “I am more than a bastard. I am a woman with convictions. I am a woman who is kind regardless of the consequences or my past. I am a dear friend and confidante. And I am loved. I am loved by Ginny and your sisters and Kate and your mother and the servants like Mrs Gibbons and you…I am loved by you.

You, who has never stepped away from me but always embraced me. You, who loved me in a silver dress and then again in a maid’s uniform. You, who still rushed into a prison even after my cowardice spurned you so deeply. So, when Araminta lashed me with those old insults and barbs, I saw them clearly for the first time—as lies—just as I saw myself as clearly as well. I am Sophia Maria Beckett, the woman who loves and the woman who is loved. And your words helped me come to that conclusion, even if they were only one piece of the puzzle. So, there is no need to apologise, only for you to receive my gratitude and my love.”

She continues to smile, while Benedict gapes.

“You are a marvel,” Benedict breathes, eyes filled with wonder. “And there are so many reasons why I love you. But one of the things I love best, is that you know yourself. You have principles, you have spirit and a strength that is ever so rare.” He touches her delicately, not because she is so brittle that she will break, but because she is the most precious of jewels, “I am sorry for asking you to be my mistress.”

“You have already apologised.”

“Not truly, nor sincerely.”

“And what else was a man of your position to do?”

“While that may be true it was not fair, especially when I was so pig headed at hearing your refusal. You were correct, I was ignorant of our positions. I would die before sharing you, so why should I have expected you to share me when I was forced to marry?”

“In a perfect world we could have married, we could have just been Sophie and Benedict. But in this world men like you do not marry—”

“None of what I said weeks ago, in my lodgings, have changed. I do not care that we cannot live in London, I do not care what Lady Penwood might spread or what doors are barred to us. Over these past days, these past weeks, the conviction that first whispered on my heart has been carved deeper and deeper; that when I think about what I need in my life—not want but need—all I think of is you. Only you, it always has and will always be, you.”

It is Sophie’s turn to stare, her eyes widening to drink in a new expanse of emotion, just as her heart tries to hold the enormity of his words. But his words are like monsoon rain on parched land, and so, her eyes water.

Benedict softly wipes the tears away and Sophie can smile.

“Such sentiment explains your little announcement.”

“I know I was presumptuous in the jail, and you deserve much more—”

“Benedict—” She holds his face, “I wish to marry you also. I love you, only you.”

Benedict’s breath hitches, before he sweeps her in his arms.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, so, so much,” he cries as Sophie giggles in his arms. “You make me the happiest man alive.”

Benedict surges up and kisses her and with a final spin they return to the ground. Although they stay clasped together, rocking in the momentum of that joy, the surety of their love finally realised. Benedict buries his nose in the crook of her shoulder, inhaling the presence of her. And as he inhales, his nose scrunches…

“Sophie, I love you,”

“Mhmm.”

“But you do smell.” He whispers, kissing her cheek. Sophie pulls away and sniffs her shoulder.

“Oh gosh, I do! Well, that is what sleeping on the floor for two days does for you.”

At his stricken face she says, a little quieter,

“One day we shall laugh about it.”

“But not quite yet,” Benedict replies softly.

“Not quite yet.” She kisses him softly before extracting herself, looking over to the bath. “Oh, there are bubbles!” she turns to him with a childish awe, “I have never had a bath with bubbles before.”

Benedict smiles. They will probably never joke about her past—but he could ensure that the rest of her life would be full of laughter and love.

Sophie goes up to the bath, her hands fiddling with the tie of the dressing gown. Benedict turns away.

“That is very gallant of you.”

“I am a gentleman.”

“I would not mind; you are to be my husband after all.”

Benedict scrunches his eyes shut and almost groans, his resistance waning. Perhaps the audience might see him mouthing:

You are a gentleman. You are a gentleman.

“This is my mother’s house,” he manages to choke out.

“As you desire.”

He hears the thump of the dressing gown, the ripple of her limbs entering the water and he bites his lips to keep himself in check. But, he cannot restrain his eyes from wandering over his shoulder…

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

“I am glad that all is well,” Kate sighs, resting on Anthony as they stand with the rest of the family in Bridgerton House’s parlour.

“Yes, Sophie is safe,” Anthony replies, fingers idly tracing up and down Kate’s spine. “And they shall be happily married,” he acknowledges Kate’s raised eyebrow. “With the family’s blessing and my own. But we must prepare for the oncoming storm. I doubt Lady Penwood is a woman who enjoys being thwarted nor hesitates from ensuring she has the final word.”

“There must be some way to mitigate the damage…” Kate falls silent for a moment. Then she perks up, her eyes sparkling, “I have an idea—I must go talk to your mother.” She kisses his cheek and rushes over to Violet. Anthony watches on baffled, as his mother and wife start a hushed, but fervent, conversation. In curiosity he walks closer.

Just then a maid, Nadia, enters the room with a gown. Only then does Kate break from the conversation to nod at the dress.

“Very good, Nadia. Take it up to the Lady Francesca’s old room, for Miss Beckett is bathing in the rose bathroom.” The maid curtsies then exits.

“The rose bathroom?” Violet asks, brow furrowed. “Not the jasmine bedroom? Is that not our best spare room?”

“No, Anthony directed the servants to ready a bath in the rose bathroom for some reason…” Kate trails off, then turns to her husband. “Anthony, why did you not send the servants to the jasmine bedroom?”

Anthony gulps.

“I just…it was the first thought in my head,” he rambles.

“And why should Sophie be relegated to the opposite wing of the house?” Eloise pipes up. “She is to be family; it makes perfect sense for her to be in the family wing. I do not mind sharing the bathroom once more, after all, Frannie and I managed for years.”

His mother turns to Anthony with accusatory eyes. A look that was always followed by an admonishing ‘Anthony!’ ever since he could reach his father’s knee. Anthony swallows thickly.

“Come to think of it--where is Benedict?” Colin asks, sharing a conspirators look with his wife.

“I sent him to rest. He has not slept these last two days,” Anthony tries to ignore how pitchy his voice sounds.

“Anthony!” His mother cries.

“Ah a wise decision. I am sure, Benedict is in need of some…relaxation.”

“Colin Bridgerton!” Violet cries.

“All I am saying is that after everything, the poor pair deserve a little…release.” Colin shrugs, getting a muffled scoff from Penelope whose eyes are alit with delight.

“Oh, I cannot believe you all,” Their mother grouses, pulling up her gloves as if going into battle. Indeed, she starts to stalk out of the room.

Thankfully, Kate arrests her before she can exit.

“Violet, you must allow it, just this once.”

“What exactly is happening? Do I need to go and check on Sophie?” Eloise cries, standing to attention.

“There is no use. Knowing Benedict, it would be unwise to appear unannounced,” Colin continues, Penelope barely able to hide her giggles behind her teacup. “Goodness knows what position they shall be in.”

Penelope spits out her tea.

“Colin Bridgerton!”

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

Sophie blows softly, and the pile of bubbles in her hand disperses into the air.

“Lean forward, please.” She obeys and allows Benedict to rinse the rest of the soap off her back. Then she hums as his hands start massaging her shoulders.

“Hmmm, this feels wonderful.”

“I am glad. Can I wash your hair?”

“Ofcourse.”

“Dunk please.”

Sophie obeys, eyes shutting, body loosening. She lifts up and Benedict starts to create a lather of soap in her hair, the movement of his hands hypnotic. All adding to the gentle, warm lull of the atmosphere. Sophie takes a sniff of her hair.

“Better than lake water?” Benedict asks with a grin, recalling that day on the lake all those months ago.

“Absolutely—lavender, pretty.” Sophie grins up at him, before dunking her hair and washing the soap from it.

"Your hair used to be longer," Benedict muses, hands running through the wet strands. Sophie closes her eyes and tips her head back into his touch.

"It was, but I had to sell it to a wigmaker."

Benedict's hands retreat. Sophie lifts her head up--slightly bewildered--until Benedict gently turns her face to him, staring deep into her eyes.

"You will want for nothing," Benedict says, as solemn as a vow, and Sophie's throat burns with emotion. Her hand reaches out to trace the curve of his cheek, her own words just as weighty,

"As long as I have you, I will want for nothing."

“You have me, heart and soul.”

“As you have me, heart and soul.”

The solemnity warms until they are smiling sweetly at one another, Sophie gently leans in and kisses him.

“Are you sure you do not wish to get in?”

“Absolutely not, I am quite enjoying myself here.” Benedict grins then returns to his prior position, “I like pampering you.” At this he starts massaging her again, causing Sophie to moan slightly.

“You must be careful, Mr Bridgerton, otherwise I might want such treatment every night of our marriage.”

“And I would gladly do so. But is there anything else you want Mrs Bridgerton?”

“What else could I want? What else could we want?”

“Well…I want to spend an afternoon by a lake. You would be reading, I would be sketching, and whenever we got too warm we would slip into the water to cool off.” His voice pitches low, “then I would carry you from the water and make love to you on the shore.”

Sophie tries to swallow her flush,

“You have given this a lot of thought.”

“I have had a thousand nights of dreams about my Lady in Silver,” he kisses one shoulder, “and Sophie Beckett,” he kisses the other shoulder.

Sophie’s breath catches, her eyes fixed in the distance—as if looking at a shimmering future that she can finally believe is no longer a mirage.

“Tell me more,” she whispers, hoarsely.

“I want to hold your hand in the street and in church, and in the market, where I buy you pretty ribbons for your hair. I want to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Misshapen eggs?”

Benedict chuckles,

“Misshapen eggs and all.” He replies, then turns a little more solemn, eyes lost in the future he paints with his words,

“I want to go on rambling walks where the conversation never ends. I want us to come home to our little cottage or flat or whatever home we can afford, and dance together in our kitchen,” he swallows thickly, “I want to hold you as the embers die down in the fireplace, and I want to wake up next to you every morning even when we’re grey or we only have a couple moments before our children jump on the bed. I want to love you more and more every day and take care of you and give you anything you want.” His hands tremble with emotion, like his voice. “That is what I want…So, what is it you want?” he kisses below her ear, looking at her.

Sophie’s eyes shiver in the silence, she plays with some errant bubbles floating in the water.

“You have such a way with words and I…” her voice dies down, “it has been a long time since I have been allowed to want, let alone been asked.”

Benedict’s eyes soften with understanding. Gently he tilts her chin up.

“It does not need to be much or many, just whatever is on your heart.”

Sophie lingers in the sincerity of his eyes, far more powerful orators than his beautiful poetry. So, haltingly, she starts,

“I want to be loved. I want to love…I want to wake up in your arms every morning with the knowledge that I am safe. I want to laugh. I want to be held and comforted no matter how violent the storm. I want our children to be smothered in love and never know what it is to be hungry or cold or unwanted. I want to be by your side as your talent grows and love you through all manner of strife. I want a life with you by my side, whether we live in a palace or a poorhouse. I just want you.”

Benedict swoops down for a plundering kiss that spins the world around them. When they break Benedict whispers,

“I will give you all of it.” His voice rumbles against her lips. “You deserve the world, my goddess, my Queen.”

“I do not want the world; I just want Benedict.”

He moans at that, and they kiss once more, Sophie lifting herself out of the bathtub to gain purchase. Both are gasping when they part, and the words fall out of Sophie’s mouth.

“I want you to join me.”

Benedict's eyes darken, his smirk widening as he stands and turns away to strip.

"I would like to watch".

Benedict looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. Sophie swallows, then stares him down with a burning intensity that is starting to settle in her stomach.

"I want to watch you."

So, he turns, and slowly unbuttons his shirt, basking in Sophie’s lascivious gaze as he moves to snapping off his breeches before unthreading the buttons of his breeches. Before the final button he looks at Sophie for permission, she nods.

Then he is bare, and her breath hitches.

“I assume this is the first one you have seen?”

Sophie nods mutely.

“The first you will touch?”

She nods.

“The first you will take?”

Sophie nods, eyes wide.

“As long as it will fit.”

Benedict kisses her gently, and ensures she looks him in the eye when he says,

“You lead, I follow. Whatever you want, whenever you want, at your pace. But I can promise,” a kiss on her jaw. “that on our wedding night,” a kiss on the corner of her mouth, “I will be gentle, so all you feel is exceptional.” Another kiss that turns molten all too quickly. “Now, what is it you want?”

“For the final time, for you to get in the bloody bath,” she huffs, trying to pull him in. He chuckles then climbs in, sitting behind her, pressing themselves against each other.

Sophie’s breath hitches.

“Better?” he whispers.

“Much.”

He turns her chin, so they look at one another. His eyes are blown wide and so startingly blue that they transfix her. Benedict nods.

Sophie raises a hand to link it with one of his. Then, still staring deeply in his eyes, she traces their hands over her body until it cups her breast.

“I want you here.”

He squeezes and she gasps.

“Yes?”

She reaches back once more, for the final hand, lacing their fingers together.

“And I want,” she trails their clasped hands over her stomach until it dips under the water, “you here,” she gasps, eyes drowning in Benedict’s blue ones, as he starts his ministrations.

Yet they do not stop staring, not even when they kiss...

Not as Sophie writhes more and more in his arms, nor as Benedict’s hips start to buck. Even as Sophie turns around to straddle him, they keep their eyes locked together. Even as Sophie braces one hand on his shoulder, the other sinking below to find him in the soapy water. Even when their kisses turn messy and open-mouthed.

“I want you,” Benedict pants as they both start to reach their peak, “I want all of you.”

“I want all of you,” Sophie keens. “And you have me, all of me.”

“And you have me, all of me,” he whispers. “You are mine and I am yours.”

Finally, her eyes close as she shudders from the climax. Benedict surges up and smothers his own releasing moan with her lips.

The water settles, as the couple settle—even though they can barely control their panting breaths or racing heartbeats.

“God, I cannot wait to marry you,” Benedict mumbles.

“How long must we wait?”

“A few weeks—three at the least.”

“So long?” Sophie huffs. Benedict chuckles. “Then I suppose we shall have to make do with moments like this,” Sophie leans forward with a spark in her eye, “I am sure there is much, much more I can learn…”

Benedict leans forward also, a rakish smirk on his face.

“What a wonderful idea Mrs—"

Someone hammers on the door.

“Sophie!”

Benedict and Sophie snap up, eyes wide.

“S—t.” Sophie swears.

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

“Eloise, please—”

Eloise rips away from Kate’s arm to wiggle the lock.

“I must ensure that my brother is not befouling Sophie!” she cries. With a final click, and one final kick, Eloise bangs the door open and strides in.

“Eloise, what on earth?” Sophie asks from the bathtub, where she sits—alone. Eloise strides further into the room, scouting around the furniture, even behind the bath.

“Eloise!” Sophie sinks deeper into the bath.

“I am looking for my infuriating brother! In case he has invaded your personal space!”

“As opposed to you who entered my private space uninvited.”

Eloise stops short, her cheeks flushing.

“Well, I…”

“Eloise, you are being rash,” Kate soothes pulling Eloise back to the door. “You must learn to ignore Colin—he was merely winding you and your mother up.”

Eloise pouts, hands on her hips.

“Well, Sophie, if my brother dares to act in any ungentlemanly way towards you, you must tell me then I can give him a stern talking to.”

Sophie smiles.

“That is very sweet Eloise. I shall endeavour to do so in the future.”

“I am sure Sophie will,” Kate says with a smile. Behind Eloise’s back, Sophie notices Kate push Benedict’s errant waistcoat under a footstool with her foot.

Eloise leaves with a final nod. Kate follows behind and gives Sophie a wink. Sophie turns bright red.

Once alone, Sophie deflates and sinks under the water in relief.

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

The camera turns to an empty bedroom—the same bedroom Benedict had frequented before entering the bathroom. All is still.

Then the window slowly judders up and open. One boot drops to the ground, then another. Finally, Benedict clumsily manoeuvres himself from window into the room—sockless, shirt open and braces swinging around his hips.

Once safely inside he silently closes the window and picks up his belongings. Just as he is to leave, he gives a fond smile towards the bathroom door.

Someone clears their throat.

Benedict looks up, like a rabbit in front of a rifle.

His mother leans against the bedroom door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Benedict has the sense to look sheepish.

“You have precisely less than a minute to rush into another room and avoid Eloise’s wrath. I shall talk to both you and your brother later,” is all she says.

“Yes, mother,” Benedict starts walking out, avoiding her eye. Just as he passes her, she puts a hand on her shoulder.

“And Benedict,” He turns to find her hard stare. “While the revelations of the past days might have set our world in a tailspin, it does not alter the matter that Sophie is a lady and should be treated as such. Do you understand me?”

“Yes mother.”

Violet narrows her eyes. Benedict gives a tentative smile. Violet breaks and rolls her eyes. “Off you go—shoo.”

She shoos him away, and Benedict obeys—with a quick kiss on her cheek and a smirk on his face.

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

Hee hee.

What do you think?

As always, I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests. So...

Check out the list here, for more of my ideas on S4.

Check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.

Or message/reblog/reply to this :)

#benophie #an offer from an avid reader #soap #suds...#and meddling siblings 😉#bath scene #little spice #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #featuring #colin--meddlesome--bridgerton #anthony--I cannot lie--bridgerton #penelope--I live for the drama--feathrington #and an honoury #kate--benophie stan--sharma #hope answers #an offer from a gentleman #what on earth happened to these tags?

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