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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Tempers

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, anger flares and feelings come out.

Requested by Anonymous: This is sooo ''let's pretend they're all alive' but I think we all need something nice now, could you do one where reader is bobby's daughter and she's your typical I like makeup, short skirts and heels girl and they're all (reluctantly) working with the ghost facers for a case, dean gets protective around her bc she's bobby's daughter and not at all bc he likes her no no what gave you that idea hehehe

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: little bit of jealousy, injuries, mentions of blood, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing

Hunting with the Winchester’s.

No matter the case, hunting with those two never failed to be interesting. You’d like to think you were a good hunter, in fact you knew you were. You might not have been the best there is but there’s not one hunter out there that hasn’t made a handful of mistakes on the job. It was bound to happen sometime. But you’ve had a pretty good hunter to learn from—your dad.

He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you hunting, not in the slightest and he tried his hardest to get you to go another direction with your life. But Bobby Singer was as stubborn as they come, so he should’ve expected his daughter to be just the same as himself. With all of the reluctance in the world, he taught you to be the hunter you are today, and that’s something he can feel confident in even though he might not admit it.

Dean hadn’t taken you too seriously the first time you’d accompanied them on a hunt for a vamp nest, treating you as if you were a child despite the mere one year age difference the two of you held. That quickly changed when you saved him from a great deal of danger that night; three vamps against a disarmed Dean surely wouldn’t have gone very well.

That was something you very much held over his head, giving it a good long while before you finally let him live it down save for a few mentions here and there.

Even then Dean was just as protective as he’d been since you were teens nearly ten years ago, you were Bobby’s daughter. That was always his reasoning for insisting you stay close to him on hunts, for losing his temper should the smallest of things happen to you. That was his reasoning for being adamant that you stay back on hunts he deemed too dangerous, trying his hardest to convince Bobby to stick with him on it. Bobby never disagrees with his reasoning, but he also knows you’re too stubborn for your own good.

Dean was the very same way.

The old house looked like something straight out of a movie, the stereotypical haunted house as boards stick haphazardly over broken windows and the grass is far too overgrown. Nearly every corner was littered with spiderwebs, the siding on the house covered in years of neglected dirt and moss. It was only perfectly fitting that it’d be haunted, otherwise that’d be a waste of an abandoned house.

You squinted up at it as you got out of the backseat of the Impala, turning back to look at the long driveway you’d just driven up, lined with old trees on either side before glancing back at the house. Your gaze shifts to Dean as you smooth out your jacket, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowed as you look up at the older Winchester.

“Nothing,” he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a pair of those ridiculously tall heels on. I have to say I’m shocked.”

You roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek as he nudges the toe of your tattered old boots, his smile still remaining as he looks down at you in amusement.

“Well I guess I’m full of surprises then, aren’t I?” You say as you rub your gloss in with a smack of your lips and brush past him to get to catch up to Sam, the smile you’d tried to stifle now tugging at your lips once your back was to him. But he knew it was there just as much as you saw his was when you turned back around to catch his expression.

He chuckled, brows soon furrowing as he shook his head. “Wait—what’s that supposed to mean?”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and quickened his pace, grumbling to himself about what your words could have meant as his brows furrowed. In a matter of moments you nearly smack into Sam, stopping just in time.

“What is it?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean mutters, and when you look at him that crease between his brows deepens and his jaw tenses, eyes rolling and you follow his gaze to the ever familiar van that sat parked on the other side of the trees. “Looks like the ghostbusters beat us to it.”

Ghostfacers.

You were more than surprised when Dean had caved on working the hunt with them, not without a couple of eye rolls and a few choice words for the pair mumbled not so discreetly under his breath. But all things considered, after what happened the last time, you were surprised he’d gone through with it. Although, Harry and Ed weren’t planning on leaving anyway. They may have been more than just a little intimidated by that ever famous Dean Winchester glare, one that never worked on you, but they weren’t scared enough to back down much to Dean’s dismay.

The more people there were, the better, but that didn’t stop the older Winchester from being protective over you. In fact, you were certain he was even more so.

“Stay with me,” Dean said, his words serious as he put his arm out in front of you, his gaze over at the two less than desired guests and their cameras having been less than pleased. Especially with the way they smiled at you and acted like a couple of fools with a crush.

“What am I five, Dean?” You say, pushing his arm down as you quicken your pace to walk with him rather than behind him.

He narrows his eyes down at you as his lips purse till those dimples appeared that you’ve come to know oh so well, and rarely were they not from discontentment.

“Would you slow down?” He huffs, a smile tugging at your lips.

You sigh, shaking your head in amusement.

You failed to miss the way the back of his hand had brushed over your knuckles as you walked along the shadowed hallway, thick with cobwebs and rubble scattering across the scratched wood floors. You were starting to wonder if the action was a simple accident or if he’d felt the same spark of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his chest as you felt in yours.

It could have been nothing, probably was, but you shook it off when you turned around the corner and tried not to think about it again.

The hunt was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, and it was one spirit against five people. Harry and Ed weren’t the best of help, not really, but it was more than you walked in with and it should have been better. But it wasn’t.

The spirit turned out to be far more vengeful than she let on, and as Dean suspected, it wasn’t a good idea to split up. Not in a house that was three times bigger than it seemed with a more than violent spirit on the loose. It most certainly didn’t help that the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the house dark enough to begin with even in daylight, it’s boarded up windows and burnt out lightbulbs working against you.

Had you not been there, Dean would more than readily have split up to cover more ground with the extra set of hands accompanying you this time, it only made sense to do so. But you were. You were there and you were just as stubborn as ever as you stood there in favor of the very idea that was just the opposite of what Dean wanted. What was a good idea to you and one to most was the worst thing he could possibly think of. He didn’t want you to stray far from him for reasons he’d never admit, not to you or himself, instead reasoning with a simple ‘because I said so’.

But that phrase didn’t work on you. It never did.

He knew. From the moment those two barreled down the stairs looking paler than the spirit you were after, holding all the hesitancy in the world in their body language he knew. The apologetic look Sam had given him wasn’t one that helped either, anger quick to spark within him as he closed his eyes for a moment. He should have known better than to believe they’d offer you any form of protection even though he knows you can hold your own. He should have known better than to quit arguing with you on the matter because maybe, just maybe you’d have given in and split up with him instead. Maybe you would still be with the group and not who knows where in this maze of a run down mansion.

It was a mess of maybe’s and what if’s that clouded his every thought.

But he didn’t argue and you were gone. You were swept away by Casper the not so friendly ghost and he was to blame. Bobby would be livid if he knew, he gets that, but Dean himself didn’t know what he’d do if something happened. He could deal with the wrath of Bobby Singer any day but he couldn’t deal with even just the thought of something happening to you and he couldn’t find it in him to grasp just why it was he felt that way. Maybe he could, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“You what?” Dean asked, anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. His question was low and the two words were more than venomous, more than telling of just how angry he’d been. He heard exactly what Ed had told him not thirty seconds before, he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could believe it actually, because it was Ed of all people, but that wasn’t the point.

Ed swallowed thickly and offered a nervous laugh in an attempt to stave off the tension that’d been building the moment they came back to Dean without you, backing up from the green eyed Winchester who’d been staring him down with a narrowed gaze. It wasn’t hard to see that his patience was wearing thin, and he knew he was pushing it the more he stalled. “She—she went ahead! It’s not like we could talk her out of it!”

His fists clenched and relaxed at his sides at the reasoning he just heard, crescent shaped imprints of his nails left behind on his palms in the wake of his increasing anger.

“You let her out of your sight?” He said, far louder than before. He grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the dilapidated old wall, the wood creaking under the newfound pressure against it and a cloud of dust forming. He’s more than tense as Dean crinkles his shirt between his fists, knuckles ivory white and jaw clenched tightly. He could see every freckle and every ounce of emotion in Dean’s eyes, that’s how close he was. He could see the angry quiver in his bottom lip and the flare of his nostrils, could feel his breath hitting his face as he stood pinned to the wall and his glasses even fogged up.

“What, you thought you’d play ‘Mr. Tough Guy’, try and protect her? Huh? Cause you sure as hell didn’t do a good job,” Dean grits out frustratedly.

“She said she’d kick my ass if I didn’t let her go ahead!” He splutters, nearly nose to nose with him.

Dean nodded, the smile on his face bitter as he slid his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” he says, sweating bullets by that point as he buckled under the pressure of Dean’s distress. He let out a noise when he shook him slightly and he knows that’s not the answer Dean needs to hear right now. “We were on the second floor when a door slammed around the corner!”

“Actually, they all closed so it’s kinda hard to tell which one,” Harry chimed in, growing timid the more he spoke as he stepped closer to Sam as some form of protection. He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously when Dean’s stare fell on him.

“Dean, we’ll find her, okay? Right now we’re just wasting time,” Sam says, noting Ed was two seconds from fainting from the anger radiating off the older Winchester.

Dean pushed him back once more before releasing his grip on his shirt, wrinkled and disheveled from the tightness of his fists. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that this was about more than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter. It was about more than just his annoyance with anything and everything that has to do with Ghostfacers. It was you.

He was angry, livid, as he snagged the flashlight from the table, storming off on his own. Not without his anger getting the better of him, a nearby chair taking the brunt of his frustration as it hits the wall. He remembers just what happened the last time he got stuck working a hunt with them, and he tried his hardest not to think about it.

Meanwhile, you found yourself stuck locked in a room you knew you weren’t in before you were taken. A room you didn’t even know existed in this house to begin with. For being a run down old building, the flimsy doors were stronger than they looked, but you suppose the powers of the supernatural didn’t really care about things like that.

Your knuckles were an angry shade of red, fists sore and throbbing from having pounded them against the door for the better part of what had to be ten minutes in an attempt to escape or at least grab someone’s attention. You were tired as you slumped back against the wall, tucked within the sparse circle of salt you managed to make. Your phone was dead and your flashlight was gone, your energy seemingly just as drained as everything else.

You could feel the I told you so’s coming from Dean, you knew they’d be there ready and waiting if you get out of this. It’s not like it had been completely undeserved, but you didn’t want to hear it. You knew you more than likely looked worse for wear as you sat within that circle, knew by the way you saw smears of crimson on your fingers when you wiped your cheek. It was no secret that you messed up big time with this one, you’d admit that, but admitting it to yourself didn’t help you in that moment and you certainly wouldn’t say it to Dean.

You found there were a lot of things you were hesitant on admitting to Dean, and in the current moment you weren’t so sure if you’d have the chance to bring any of them to light. Maybe it was for the best anyway, could save yourself the embarrassment of having feelings for the older Winchester in the first place. Though you can’t tell what was scarier, the thought of his inevitable discontent with you and your hunting capabilities should you make it out alive, or the very real possibility that you wouldn’t make it out alive.

Yeah, you definitely couldn’t decide that one.

You weren’t sure how or when you found yourself pining over green eyes; the two of you bickered more often than not each and every time you saw one another. If it wasn’t over the smell of your perfume filling up the Impala, it was the way his cologne hung on you after he gave you a hug just to make that happen, just to ruffle your hair after you’d just done it. It was the softer smiles you shared with each other without even realizing it.

But it didn’t really matter, not now it didn’t.

You were caught up with the sting of embarrassment coursing through you from having gotten lost in the first place—you were so adamant that you could do it on your own. It happens to Sam all the time, it happens to Dean all the time, but you couldn’t stop the heat burning in your cheeks or the frustration building in your stomach.

You didn’t know how much time had passed nor did you have a second to think on it before she appeared in front of you in a matter of seconds. The look on her face had you sitting a little straighter, back pressing to the wall behind you as you eyed the pitiful salt ring around you. She laughed tauntingly and you were beginning to think even that wouldn’t protect you, you knew it wouldn’t judging by the way each and every granule began to sift away and break apart it’s protective ring.

You swallow thickly as your eyes widened, both your gaze and hers shifting to the door briefly as it rattled. “Y/n?”

Your breath hitched, only the smallest bit of relief washing over you as her attention returned to you almost immediately. “Dean!”

She didn’t seem to mind his attempts at busting the door down, nor the axe that split through the wood. She knew full well she could send him across the room with a simple twitch of her finger should he break through, watching as you scramble to your feet.

In a matter of seconds she’d appeared mere inches from you, her hand grabbing your face, cold and unforgiving. You didn’t know just what it was she’d been doing, but you were more than aware of the pain beginning to lance through you the moment she touched your skin.

It was near unbearable, a sharp burn radiating through you as a pressure squeezed in on you, intense and unwavering. You were quite sure you’d never felt something so intensely, the feeling nearly taking your breath away. Of all the hunts you’d been on, of all the injuries you walked away with, they’ve got nothing on this.

One thing she didn’t count on was the handful of salt you gathered in your palm, too caught up in your demise to see you’d snagged it from the protective ring she broke. You pressed your hand to her wrist and watched her face twist and contort in discomfort, the action searing her arm where you’d touched it and releasing her grip on you in an instant as if you were venomous.

She pushed you to the wall in retaliation with a simple move of her hand, and if you thought she’d been angry now, you surely were mistaken. You groaned as the fragile old wall behind you cracked and crumbled around you, slumping on the ground once more in exhaustion. You caught sight of Dean’s face as the door began to give way, livid yet holding something you couldn’t quite place as your heart hammered in your chest.

But luck seemed to be on your side just this once, fear flashing across her face as she stood mere inches from you. Her yelp was shrill as she stumbled backwards, having burned up in a blaze of misery and screams. Your chest heaved as your shoulders slumped in relief, the heat of her disappearance having fanned over you and the door breaking loose in a heap of shards and splinters.

The pain she’d caused had begun to ebb away and subside, leaving the ache to remain and the fatigue you felt to rest heavier in your body as you stood to your feet with a bit of unbalance.

Dean had crossed the room in a matter of a few strides, the axe clattering to the floor as his hand settled on your cheek. You looked miserable, mascara smudged and a frown on your busted lip.

“You okay?” He asked, the furrow deep between his brows.

“Do not say ‘I told you so’,” you grumble, half humorous as you look up at him.

His lips purse, his thumb swiping over the cut running along your cheek that he was less than pleased about. Any other time he might’ve laughed, but not this time. The worried crease between his brows and the way his lips pointed downward at the corners had been telling enough that he wasn’t happy with the predicament you’d gotten yourself into, that he was the complete opposite of thrilled at the close call that had his heart pounding and his stress in overdrive. But right now he was relieved. You were here and you were okay, attitude and all.

Sam was first to rush in, Harry next and Ed hot on his heels as they stepped over the rubble and splinters of the broken door.

Ed’s own relief washed over him, happy to not be on the receiving end of an angry Dean Winchester’s punch. “You found her—”

“Shut it.”

It’d been quiet the whole car ride home, no music on the radio, no conversation, no quick witted jokes or typical conversation. It was quiet and it was tense, near uncomfortable as Sam was stuck in the tension between two people he knows have something brewing between them. But he said nothing, pretending he didn’t see the way his brother’s gaze flickers to the rear view every other minute to see if you’re okay, his jaw tense and his grip on the wheel nearly too tight.

Bobby wasn’t thrilled to see the way that spirit roughed you up, more than a few choice words thrown Dean’s way with anger in his tone. He expected that much, having braced for it the whole ride back. He didn’t argue, didn’t do much more than nod and clench his jaw, and he didn’t say just how it was that it happened in the first place either.

Now you were wandering through your dad’s house, quiet unlike it had been just two hours earlier. Your dad and Sam had both been asleep, the early hours of dawn beginning to roll around as dawn approached. You knew better than to believe Dean would be sleeping too, your thoughts confirmed when the door to the bedroom he’d been crashing in was still open, bed empty and still untouched from when he’d haphazardly made it the morning before.

You sighed when you saw him, sitting by himself on the back porch swing and the moment you stepped outside you saw the half-drunk bottle of beer in his hand. His gaze lifted to you when he heard the creak of the door, averting his stare moments later.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Go to bed.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

“Not tired,” he says, tipping his bottle against his lips as he takes another sip of his beer.

You huff out a soft sigh, arms crossing over your chest. That’s when he looks at you again, the dimness of the porch light having illuminated the jagged scratch on your cheek, freshly cleaned as well as the mascara that smudged under your eyes earlier. The tension in his jaw had yet to go away, obvious as ever.

“Are you going to be mad at me forever then?”

“‘M not mad anymore,” he says, and you knew for a fact that’d been a lie.

“You’re not that good a liar, Dean,” you say, watching him set his drink down and stand to his feet, leaning his weight on the wooden railing. “I had it handled, you know,” you say, watching his expression sour at your words.

You heard his scoff as you brushed past him, a sigh leaving your lips because you knew he’d react just the way he’d been acting. You were right with him, you were always right.

“Had it handled, my ass,” he said, quick to follow after you. “I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, well I did it,” you said, and he turned in front of you and spun around, keeping you from walking any further.

“Would you quit it with the tough guy act? You’re hurt and you damn well know it, I know it. Hell, anyone can see that. So do yourself a favor and stop pretending like you had everything under control because I know you better than to believe that.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him with a squinted gaze, watching as his chest rises and falls, at the way there was something more than anger pooling in his eyes as he looked at you. You’ve never seen him quite this upset over you before, not really, never seen him look at you that way before. He was angry, sure he was, but it was different.

He wasn’t wrong, you were hurting, it’s not everyday you’re on the receiving end of a vengeful spirits’ wrath. You went off on your own when you shouldn’t have been so bold and daring. But you were here. You were here and you were okay and you knew you were bound to do it again on another case. It was what being a hunter is about. You didn’t get this far by sitting back and letting the monsters out there come to you, you had to go out and look for them and if you got a few bumps and bruises then so be it.

“Why are you so mad, Dean?” You ask, watching his eyes roll. “You go out and do the same reckless things on a hunt, you’ve come out on the other side way worse than I did. But since it’s me, suddenly it’s a problem.”

“Exactly, it’s because it’s you!” He repeats, frustrated as ever as he throws his hands up. “And yeah I’m mad. I’m freakin’ pissed. You come in here thinking you’re invincible and you’re not Y/n. I’m mad because…” he paused, letting out a breath as he rubbed his face, hands running through his hair.

He looked at you then, expression softening as he calmed down a fraction. “Forget it.”

“No, not forget it,” you say, grabbing his wrist as he starts to walk away. His jaw was clenched as he looked down at you, swallowing thickly as the heaving of his chest slowed and his grip on the doorknob was tighter than ever.

This was the first time since you’d gotten back that he’d looked in your eyes for longer than a mere second or two. You knew he was on the brink of storming off to sulk in his own anger and guilt because that’s what he always did. You knew there was something more to it than just what he’d told you. He’d like to think that you’d believe that he wasn’t angry anymore, that he was over it. But Sam told you what happened back there, how upset he got with Ed and just how worried he’d been. It was growing increasingly obvious that there was more to it than that.

It was then that you noticed you’d still been holding onto his wrist and he didn’t pull away from you, didn’t make a move to.

You tilted your head to the side when you mulled things over, and that was when the sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that thing where you try and ‘read’ me,” he says, quoting the word.

“You were scared,” you said, smile widening a bit and he huffs, pulling his arm from your loose grip. You hit the nail right on the head.

“I was just doing what Bobby asked me to do,” he says, adamant that that was his reason for being as upset as he was. Definitely not over the feelings bubbling away in the pit of his stomach, just waiting to go ahead and boil over.

“No, you were scared, De,” you say as he starts to turn away from you in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to show. “You were scared that I got lost.”

You always did that. You always took his anger and made it something else entirely and he’d try his hardest to keep that wall up. He was mad at you, mad at you for putting yourself in the same kind of danger he allows himself to be in with every hunt he does. But if you keep poking and prodding him and calling him out on his true feelings with that smile that makes him weak in the knees he does know how long he’ll last.

“You got this all wrong, sweetheart.”

“Sam told me what happened with Ed back there.”

His expression changed, softened a bit before he played it off with that familiar smirk. “Yeah, Ed’s an idiot and he pushed my buttons.”

You nodded then, your smile more than telling that you didn’t believe a word he said. You heaved a sigh, a bit of disappointment burning in your chest at his words. Because maybe you did have it all wrong, maybe his stubborn reluctance to be honest was just him telling the truth. Maybe he was just doing what your dad asked him to do. Being protective was in his nature, you knew that for a fact.

You brushed past him on the porch and headed to the door, the chirping of the early morning birds sounding and giving you enough of a reminder that maybe you should go to bed. That maybe you’ll feel better with a few hours of sleep. That maybe they would be gone, Dean would be gone by the time you woke up and you wouldn’t have to face the fluttery feeling and the ache in your heart until the next time you see him.

You spin on your heel to find him already looking, your smile soft. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Without so much as a reply you twist the old brass doorknob, pushing the back door open before his hand grips your wrist. You turned back to look at him, brows furrowed as you gazed up at him. He swallows thickly as he looks at you, lips parting to speak but the very words he’d been thinking of so vividly were stuck on the top of his tongue.

His hand loosens around your wrist and the tips of his fingers slide down to your hand to envelope yours, calloused and warm and hesitant. He takes all but a few seconds of your curious gaze, of the questions sitting on your tongue before he dips down and presses his lips on yours. It’s soft, featherlight almost as he pulls away just as quickly.

He doesn’t stray too far, his nose brushing against yours as he swallows nervously, but the sight of your smile put him at ease. Had him kissing you with just a little more vigor as his hand drops yours in favor of pressing to your cheek, your own having settled in his arm. Your smiles mingle and press into each other, the kiss soft and languid as your cheeks burned under his touch.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” You murmur, and the way he hummed softly, the way he stole another kiss in favor of admitting you were was telling enough.

He pulls back to look at you, his lips kiss swollen and pink as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. His eyes bounce between yours and down to your lips, looking at you once more before he kisses you again. The anger he held is quick to melt when you look at him the way you do and he hates it, he loves it but he hates it because he really should be mad. You nearly got yourself killed and here he was weak in the knees and he knows you’ll be just as brave on the next hunt. He knows you’ll do just the same thing.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me,” he mumbles, smiling against your lips.

“Probably,” you say with a grin, his quiet laughter immediate as he pulls you closer.

But you were right. There was more to it than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter, there always was. As stubborn as Dean Winchester could be, you knew him better than that, and he knew you better than to believe you won’t make his heart race and his worry spike on every hunt after that. It’s just in your nature to be braver than ever.

But he’ll protect you each and every time.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @lanea-1 @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you

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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Hello you precious human! I saw you're taking request and I thought of something.. mabye you have an idea for this one, if not just ignore the ask >.< what if diluc and zhongli (seperate) don't know that their s/o is an artist and one day their sweetheart gifts them a full ass beautiful portrait of them. Maybe they had a hard day and you wanna make them feel better and surprise them or it's an anniversary gift idk, go wild with it ♡

Have a nice day ! Ily and thanks!

gift(ed)

a/n: thank you for this absolutely lovely ask! hope you enjoy reading this!

plot: the reader makes the character a portrait of them

contains: diluc, zhongli

warnings: none!

diluc

you know he hates his birthday, for very obvious reason

but what hurts even more when you hear it, is that from what his old friends say, he used to love it, once

it hurts to think that it became one more aspect of himself he has grown to forget

so you decide to do something about it

you know very well he doesn’t want any celebrations to be held, so therefore he also denies any gifts, but you can only hope he’ll accept this one

you work your ass off for a good long while, wanting it to be absolutely perfect, not one flaw on your canvas, worried he’d notice right away

when the time comes to finally gift it to him, you’re stressed beyond reason, sweaty palms probably ruining the nice packaging that covers the result of your relentless efforts. you have arranged to meet with diluc on starsnatch cliff, hoping to do it casually enough for him not to notice it’s a birthday thing, but also sure he will know, he’s far too intelligent to fall for anything like this, after all.

the sun begins to set as you sit down on the edge of the cliff, testing how far away from the stone can you move your foot without starting to feel dizzy.

the grass is already getting cold from the humidity of the night air, and you wonder if you should stand up after all, so not to stain your outfit.

it’s only a call of your boyfriend that rips you away from your train of thought.

“darling?” is what diluc says, voice uncertain as he stands below you “you asked to see me?”

you turn around, a welcoming smile crawling up your lips, and even though he doesn’t know the reason he’s here for yet, he already thinks it was worth it, just to see you, smiling like that in the field of cecilias.

“you’re here!” you exclaim happily, almost making him chuckle, because how could he not if it was you who asked?

you get up, careful not to show him the package behind your back too soon. he takes a big step forward, arm already securing you from the edge, hovering around your waist, but not touching you, still.

“let’s get further away from the edge, shall we?” he asks softly, and although you want to laugh at his endless worries, the love and care in his voice makes you swoon internally. “so?” he asks after making sure for your safety. “what’s with the scenery?”

“well” you grin, looking down at your feet, over the minute he’s been here he already managed to make you forget everything you had on your mind. “don’t take it as a birthday gift, cause it’s not that!” you explain rapidly, shaking your head “the only thing i wanted was to make you smile, or, i don’t know, the thing is, i hope you like it-“

you don’t quite know what to say, but diluc chooses to surprise you with a soft look you so rarely get to see.

“darling, it’s not like i have a phobia for birthday gifts or something” he assures “it just feels a bit weird to celebrate myself on such an anniversary, but i’m honored that you spent your time with me on your mind, i really am”

you feel more confident with that on your mind, and you hand him your gift.

he takes it, raising an eyebrow, slowly untying the ribbon you ornamented the packaging with. as he slowly unwraps the paper, his eyes notice something he genuinely didn’t expect.

it’s a painting of him, or at least he thinks so, smiling with his eyes closed, hand tilted and resting on his hand, slight blush creeping up his cheeks. he wonders if that’s really him, but the physical resemblance is unquestionable, even though he doesn’t remember the last time he has seen this kind of expression on his face.

“i-” he attempts to speak up, but stutters “where have you had this ordered?”

you grin even wider, knowing the biggest surprise is yet to be dawned upon him.

“i didn’t” you explain “i painted it myself, do you like it?”

you catch a sparkle shoot through his eyes before he lifts them up from the painting to find yours.

“no, really?” he asks in shock, quickly going back to admiring the gift. “it’s- you’re- you’re very talented, do you know that? it’s so detailed-” he shakes his head slightly, having a hard time comprehending all that was happening.

“i managed to sneak a photo of you on our anniversary dinner” you say “i wouldn’t be able to paint this without a reference, plus, i’d like you to know what moment i based this on. if i’m able to make you smile like that from time to time, then i never want to stop.”

you can swear his eyes glisten with a thin layer of tears forming, but he blinks them back as soon as possible, and you can’t get a good look. instead, he looks at you again, love practically seeping through his gaze.

“thank you” he says quietly, smiling just how you like it, not even fully aware that he is. he approaches you to wrap an arm around you and press a quick peck to your forehead. “this just might be the best birthday i’ve ever had.”

zhongli

you’ve been to someone’s birthday party together

and it came in the conversation between the two of you that he has never received a proper gift

offering is not a gift

it was a whole deal, with choosing the present for that person, wrapping it up, decorating...

and you decided - why not just make him something, with no occasion necessary? maybe he’ll like it, maybe he’ll just acknowledge it’s existence, worth a shot

so there you are, waiting outside the parlor, gripping on the package in your hands, and waiting for him to come out.

it feels like ages since the moment you arrived, but can’t be longer than a couple of minutes. zhongli has no liking to material possesions, and you’re aware of that, so you’re hoping he’ll value the effort and thought you’ve put into your gift. you know he’d never hurt your feelings, not on purpose, at the very least, but you’re still kind of worried.

“hello there” you almost jump out in surprise as you hear a tranquil voice behind you.

“oh my, you scared me!” you let out a breathy laugh, but he seems to have ignored your comment.

“have you been waiting long?” he asks instead, to which you shake your head slightly.

“no.” you say immediately, a gentle smile welcoming him as always. he nods and attempts to take your hand, intent to go on a walk in his mind, but stops, surprised as he feels the rectangular object in your hand.

“oh, are we planning to go to someone’s party again today? i wish you’d included me in the gift picking process this time too, it was entertaining the last we did it” even though he says that, no disappointment shows up behind his eyes as he waits for your response.

“ah, no, you see-” you take a breath “that’s actually for you”

his eyebrow rises ever so slightly as he mentally studies what date is today and if he has forgotten about anything.

“oh” he finally mumbles “and may i ask to what do i owe the pleasure?”

his talent with words seems to be on his side, and he’s apparently able to talk himself out of the confusion you put him in.

“to absolutely nothing” you shrug, smile growing bigger, as his mind spins even harder, not getting the point more now. “other than being my amazing person.” you add.

he feels his heart flutter in a weird pattern, but ignores it as you place the gift in his hands. he just sort of looks at it for a while, and you’re already scared he’s going to say something unexpectable, but instead he starts to unwrap the thing gently and carefully.

you watch his eyes widen as he sees himself, painted by your hand, the softest of smiles painting his expression in warm colours. to you, that’s just how he looks everyday, but to him?

this is just one of many forms to him. he doesn’t look in mirrors a lot, he doesn’t pay much mind to it, he never studies his appearance how others do. he doesn’t get insecure in a way humans do.

it feels foreign to look at the picture. it feels as if he’s looking at someone, indoubtly at himself, but through your eyes instead. he never knew his eyes looked this kind, and that the corners of his lips didn’t lift evenly when he smiled, instead having one slightly above the other.

you notice so many things, he realizes, and he looks up at you, a wandering gaze searching for your eyes, as he struggles to comprehend just how wonderful of a chance he had gotten to meet you.

he had seen miracles come to life and crumble before him, but never once had he though he’d be one to witness something as beautiful as your love and your affections are.

meanwhile you wonder if he’s searching for the right words to say you “just shouldn’t have”

you almost speak up, about how you just felt like doing something like this, and he doesn’t have to keep it, or something, but he manages to comment before you do.

“your work is gorgeous, dear.” he says blandly, but quickly adds “but you’re the best gift i could ever encounter.”

#genshin impact #genshin boys #zhongli x gender neutral reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli headcanons #zhongli x reader #zhongli #diluc #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc imagines #diluc x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Companions react to the Courier doing the Infinite Money Glitch in casinos.

I had to look this up, OP, and then I had to conceptualize how this would even work in a storytelling context and write it, anyway I hope you're pleased with yourself because my brain feels like a stack of used sandpaper sheets

The courier had been saving up caps for a while, stashing them in odd places around the Lucky 38. Everywhere you looked there were bottle caps: Dresser drawers in the Presidential Suite, empty ice buckets in the cocktail lounge, in jars on every shelf in the penthouse. Saving up caps for big purchases was pretty common behavior in the Mojave wasteland for anyone, so no one batted an eye when the courier assembled all of the stashes on the carpeted floor of the casino and started counting them out, checking six times before stringing them together in batches of 50 and writing down the final total: 32,768.

No, no one so much as blinked when they lugged all 656 strings of caps out the door of the Lucky 38. No one, that is, except the lucky soul who went with them, saw them exchange all the caps for chips at The Tops Casino, then drop the chips in the back of The Aces theater during Bruce Isaac's set and return to the cashier to collect triple the amount of money they walked in with.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade cringed as the courier struggled to drag the haul of caps out the door of The Tops. The jingle of the cap strings was attracting the attention of just about everyone on the Strip, and someone across the street yelled "High roller!"

"This can't be legal," Arcade said.

"Since when..." the courier huffed and puffed, throwing cap strings over their shoulder carelessly, "... do you give a mole rat's ass about legality?"

"What is this?!?" Arcade hissed incredulously, gesturing to the jingling pile. "Is that cashier paying you off? Are those chips the currency for some wasteland tribe I've never heard of, but somehow have a better exchange rate than the NCR does? Did I just witness a payout for a hit on someone?"

The courier sighed and paused to pat the scientist on the shoulder. "Just don't think about it too hard, okay? Now help me out with this, we're going to Doctor Usanagi's to get me tricked out with as many implants as she has on hand."

Craig Boone: While the courier jingled their way across the Strip asphalt, Boone couldn't help noticing the number of eyes turning their way to stare at the enormous payout they were openly carrying. New Vegas was already a town that kept on trucking if its very creator was killed, that was certain: It wouldn't even pause if its latest mastermind was gunned down over a fortune in steel and aluminum crowns. Boone clutched his rifle close and met as many of the curious and envious stares as he could, his own eyes burning protectively behind his sunglasses.

They managed to get all the way back to the Lucky 38 before the courier stopped and spoke to him. "Nothing? Not even a guess about what this is from?"

Boone shrugged. "None of my business. Just don't carry it all at once again. Ever."

Lily Bowen: "Did you win, dearie?" Lily asked, confused. As far as she had noticed, the courier hadn't approached any of the blackjack tables, roulette wheels or slot machines.

"Yeah, Lily." The courier grinned and started handing her strings of caps to carry. "What do you want to spend your winnings on?"

"My winnings?" Lily shook her head. "Now now, pumpkin. You won fair and square, so you get to choose what you buy."

"My treat," the courier insisted. "Anything at all. We could go to the Gourmand for dinner, we could donate to the Followers in Freeside, we could get singing and dancing lessons from the King... what do you want?"

Lily thought for a moment, wracking her brains. "Brahmin for Jacobstown."

The courier looked at her quizzically. "Brahmin? Not bighorners?"

"Brahmin," Lily confirmed, shouldering the strings upon strings of caps. "Bighorners at Jacobstown will make more bighorners, but they have no brahmin. Brahmin are sweet, easier to handle. But no one will sell brahmin to nightkin."

"Okay." The courier nodded. "Then we have to go to the Gourmand for dinner anyway. I know a guy at the Ultra-Luxe who might help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Dios mío," Raul muttered under his breath. "Who did you kill for the Chairmen? They finally paying you back for getting rid of Benny?"

"Pfft." The courier waved him off, dropping a few strings of caps as they did. "Whoops. Help me out here, and I'll buy you a drink."

"A drink?" Raul laughed. "Not the whole bar? You could probably convince the Garret twins to retire if you gave them half of this haul."

"And why the hell would I want to take over the Atomic Wrangler?" The courier shook their head as they loaded the old ghoul up with caps. "I already have one casino I'm incapable of running. The only customers I get are you and the other Mojave misfits."

Raul grinned. "Hey, you invited us in, amigo. We're just the only ones loco enough to ignore the robots and take you up on it."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Oh, sweet squirrel stew." Cass' eyes were as big as the dinner plates in the casino's restaurant. "That's enough change to buy the Van Graffs out of business. That's enough change to tell Alice McLafferty to stick it where the sun don't shine, then back it up with enough muscle to scare her out of the Mojave."

The courier nodded and started handing her strings of caps. "It is also enough change to start funding her competitors and drive her out of New Vegas."

"Now you're talkin'." Cass smirked and accepted the extra weight. "So who're we gonna back? Far Go? The Water Merchants? Gun Runners?"

"Actually..." the courier smiled. "A little birdie told me that the Mojave Express is looking to expand its horizons. Start offering goods in addition to services. And you know me, I like to root for the home team when I can."

Cass laughed. "Well that's a surprise. You plannin' on playin' courier again? Get yourself shot in the head a second time?"

"Not if I can help it."

Veronica Santangelo: "Uhhhh, Six?" Veronica crossed her arms. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to stir up trouble for a bit after the adventure at the dam. This screams 'trouble' to me."

"Aw, lighten up Veronica." The courier winked at her and handed her a string of caps, like a consolation prize. "We're in a casino. The odds aren't in your favor, but at least you can have fun for a bit."

Veronica turned the offering down. "Math may not have been my strongest subject when I was in school, but I do know that 30,000 minus 30,000 does not equal 90,000, under any normal odds. What are you getting yourself- and more importantly, me- into?"

The courier sighed. "It's nothing. Just a little loophole I discovered when I was poking around after Benny's disappearance. I promise, we're not going to get knifed, unless we get waylaid in the street on the way home because I'm too weighed down to move."

Veronica narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I don't trust this," she said after a few beats, "But I'm also not keen to see you try to fight off a mugger while buried under all those caps. Give me some of that."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped, confused, when the courier stopped it from picking up the chips again. Its beeps increased in volume and frequency as they loaded the little bot up with caps at the cashier's counter, until it was hanging low in the air and having trouble turning around from the increased weight. The courier patted its metal dome reassuringly and loaded up the rest of the haul on themselves, until each step they took sounded like a cascade of sleigh bells.

"Back to the Lucky 38," the courier said, pointing toward the casino door. "I've got a bet I need to settle with Raul."

Rex: Rex whined as the courier hung strings of caps off his back. He sniffed each new addition but stood tall on his metal legs, taking the extra weight admirably until he was virtually buried by the wasteland currency.

"Can you still walk, boy?" the courier asked, when they had lightened their own load.

Rex barked. Satisfied, the courier led the way to the exit, opening the casino door with a jingle and ignoring the strange looks they were getting. The two waddled their way to the Strip's main gate and down the main street of Freeside until they staggered into the King's School of Impersonation.

The King, who had been lounging inside the stage room, jumped up when he saw the pair. "Well ain't that some money, honey," he said, clearly delighted. "You actually went and did it."

"Yep." The courier dropped some strings of caps on the nearest table and leaned over it to rest. "There it is. Now, where do we get started on fixing up Freeside?"

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leedongwook · 3 years

Text

Under Pressure

My thoughts and wishes for 4x13 Buck and Eddie get both targeted by the shooter

(Sorry this is not beta-read so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes hope you can still enjoy the fic :))

There‘s an annoying ringing in his ears and Buck really needs it to stop. He tries to move his head around but stops when he feels something hard and cold rub against his cheek. He feels cold and it’s dark.

Why was it dark? Wasn‘t it in the middle of the day? Right, his eyes are closed, but why? What has he been doing again?

Suddenly there are loud noises around him and Buck's getting even more annoyed that he can’t get his eyes to open. He wiggles his toes and moves his fingers. It takes a couple of more seconds, but he‘s finally able to open his eyes a bit.

The light is too bright and it blinds his eyes. He blinks again because his vision is still blurry.

He really needs to get up, he feels so cold. He awkwardly tries to shift his body, when a searing pain rips through his side and makes him stop moving. He hears someone groan and realizes it’s himself. His side is throbbing and he feels like throwing up.

What on earth had happened?

He drags his left arm downwards to his side and realizes something wet and sticky on the ground.

He notices the smell now. Is that blood?

"- uck!“

He moves again and the pain running through his side snaps his focus back and his eyes fly open. The sun is shining bright in the sky, he can see that now. It's May and it should be warm, but Buck can’t stop shaking.

"Hey, Buck! Don’t - don‘t move ok! Stay still.“

Buck turns his head towards the voice, he can hear clearly now. Still, a bit blurry, Eddie’s face comes into his view.

" Ed- die? What? Where 'r we?“

"Please Buck, don’t move. The shooter is still somewhere out there."

The shooter?

There’s a plopping sound right next to him and Eddie cries out.

Buck looks over to Eddie and only now realizes that Eddie is lying on the floor. Just like him.

Eddie’s breathing hard and he holds his right hand to his shoulder. It’s red and a small river of blood is trickling over his knuckles, down his arm. His sleeve is already tainted in red. Buck follows the red line on Eddie's arm and finds more blood on the floor.

Oh my god, Eddie’s been shot.

"Eddie, you are shot? Eddie!“

Eddie looks at him in pain, then slowly shuffles over to where Buck is lying. Buck tries to move too, but there’s this sharp pain in his side again and it takes his breath away. He starts coughing which causes his side to scream out in pain even more and it's really getting on his nerves.

"Buck, you need to breathe, please breathe. You need to put pressure on your side. Do you understand? Gah, Buck, please.“

Eddie’s got tears in his eyes and his head falls back onto the concrete in frustration.

"What? Why? Eddie, I don’t... I ...“

What does Eddie mean? Why does he need to put pressure on his side, it’s hurting him enough already.

He looks down on his body and almost has to throw up again when he sees his white shirt painted in red. His fingers crawl wander along on the concrete and he can feel the wetness on it. He moves then over to his side and he touches the places where the blood seems to come from.

He screams and doesn’t know how to breathe anymore. Ok, this doesn't look too good. Something's really wrong.

"Buck, calm down, please. Put pressure on your side, I think it’s a through, and through. You need to stop the bleeding. Come on, snap out of it.“

Eddie’s voice fades away and Buck sees dark spots dancing on the edges of his vision.

"I - I can’t, I can’t. Eds I'm sorry.“

He's breathing heavily now, face pressed against the concrete. The ground smells like blood and dirt and Buck gags.

"Please, you need to try. You need to stop the blood flow.“

Buck blinks his eyes open again and looks over to his friend who had rolled onto his side and still holds his own shoulder. His hands are redder than before and Eddie’s face looks pale and sweaty.

They need help. They need help now.

“HELP! PLEASE HELP!”

Buck screams or he thinks he does. His throat hurts and feels dry.

Buck feels himself fading and he knows he needs to put pressure on his wound. He can’t get himself to move around though, so he tries to get his hands under his side, to stop the bleeding.

He can’t get his hand under his hip, it hurts too much and so he just lets it flop down on the ground next to him.

He’s gonna die here, on the street, because he can’t help himself. What a firefighter he is.

He closes his eyes again and drifts for a few seconds.

Suddenly there’s pressure on his side, fingers digging into his wound and the increasing pain makes his eyes fly open again.

Eddie’s face is right in front of him now and he’s got tears running down his cheeks, dripping into the red sea of blood underneath them.

"Don’t you dare check out on me, Buck. Don’t you dare!"

Buck chuckles at that, it’s ironic, that he’s back at being hurt again, back at worrying people. It seems like it’s the only thing he can do.

He doesn’t want Eddie to worry again, doesn’t want to see him sad.

“Come on, Buck stay with me!”

Bucks lips feel numb and he wants to say so many things, but he’s just mumbling incoherent things. He can't think straight.

“-ot gonna leave you, Eds.”

Eddie pushes harder on his wound and he moans out loud again.

“You’re a good friend, Eds. Best friend. I love you.”

He slowly moves his fingers over to Eddie’s face and strokes gently at his cheek, leaving a bloody trail on it.

Buck feels like they’re lying here, on the street, for hours and nothing happens.

Eddie just looks at him with tired eyes. The pressure of Eddie’s hand on his side lessens and his fingers slowly slip away and Buck can see his friend closing his eyes. His hand falls off his own shoulder and comes to rest next to his head.

“Hey, you're not checking out on me either, Eds. You still owe me a revanche at the ps4 game, you cheater.”

“I - I don’t cheat Buckley, you’re just so bad in playing this game.”

They both chuckles, but Buck starts coughing and he tastes blood in his mouth.

“Sorry Buck, I'm sorry I can't - I can't ... anymore..."

Eddie’s hand slips from holding onto Bucks' side completely now and he can feel getting soaked with more blood. He’s not shivering anymore though, and he knows this is not a good sign.

“It’s ok Eddie, it’s ok, thank you for holding on.”

Eddie’s eyes close and his chest barely moves. Buck feels the darkness overcome him too when suddenly there’s movement around them.

“Buck!!!! Eddie !!!!! Wake up?! Come on stay with us!!! COME ON!!!”

Buck's eyes are barely open and he slowly lifts his hand towards Eddie.

Please, please, help him please! Help Eddie.

Someone grabs his arm and rubs a hand over his sternum to rouse him. He feels too heavy and tired though and lets darkness pull him under.

At least they can help Eddie now. They need to help Eddie.

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

“You know, you could really open your eyes now, kid.”

Buck groans and moves his head around on the pillow. Why can’t he just sleep in for once? He’s not having a shift today, is he?

“You’re scaring us a bit there, Buck. Especially Eddie here is a bit of a nervous wreck, so if you please could open those blue eyes for us.”

Eddie? Why is Eddie worried? Isn’t he with Chris?

Buck becomes restless and tries to shake himself awake. He wiggles his toes which makes his hips move and then there’s this weird dull pain in his side that makes him stop moving.

He grips at the fabric of his bedsheets. They itch and feel cold.

His side throbs in pain again. Ok, something's not right.

He hears a whimper and realizes it’s him. He fights hard and peels his eyes open. It’s too bright and he can feel the sun shining on his face. His eyes roll around and he sees the white lights, white ceiling and the white blanket resting on his chest.

There’s a hand holding his arm.

“There you are, kid. How are you feeling?”

“Not my bed, Cap?!”

Bobby chuckles and squeezes at his arm.

“No Buck, not your bed, unfortunately.”

Buck groans and lets his head flop back onto the too hard pillow. He hates hospitals.

“Why am I in hospital, Bobby?”

Bobby’s face goes serious and Buck can see red lines under his eyes. He must have been worried too then.

“There was a shooter, who targeted LAFD members. Do you remember that?”

Buck swallows hard. He needs something to drink. He nods absently. He does remember the threats someone made. But he never thought they’d actually do this. Who would do this?

“You - you got shot. They hit you in your side. It was a through and through, thankfully no important organs but you lost so much blood because we couldn’t get to you sooner.”

Buck looks at Bobby and he can see the sorrow in his eyes.

“And Eddie.”

Hearing Eddie’s name Buck's mind starts to go into overload, pictures of the incident flashing before his eyes. The cold floor and blood, there was so much blood. Eddie’s bloody hands and tears.

Oh my god, Eddie was shot too.

Buck almost jumps out of his bed, but Bobby stops him. The injury on his side isn’t happy about his sudden movement and the pain increases immensely so he need needs to close his eyes for a bit and tries to steady his breathing. After some seconds Buck feels the pain subsiding a bit again.

Okay. Moving around is not a good idea at the moment. Noted.

He opens his eyes again and grabs at Bobby’s arm.

“Where is Eddie? Is he ok? Bobby, where is he?”

“Calm down, Buck. Eddie is alright. Look.”

Bobby moves his head towards the other side of Buck's bed and Buck's eyes follow it. Slumped, in a way too uncomfortable chair, is sitting Eddie. His head is resting on his chest. His breath comes out steady and he’s got a good color on his face. His shoulder is bandaged and in a sling.

“Also a through and through but the bullet knicked an artery. Thankfully he was able to stop the bleeding for a bit.”

Buck remembers how Eddie crawled over to him and put pressure on both of their wounds.

“He saved me. He - he rolled over to me and pushed on my wound. I wouldn’t be - I ...”

Buck's eyes swell up and tears run down his cheeks.

Bobby gently rubs at his shoulder.

“He did yeah. He didn’t let go.”

Eddie suddenly coughs and his eyes blink open. He looks around and his eyes land on Buck. He straightens his body and shuffles closer to the bed. He puts his hand on Bucks hand.

“Hey, you’re awake. It’s about damn time.”

Bobby lets go of Buck's shoulder and moves towards the door.

“I’m gonna call Maddie and let her know you’re awake. She’s going to want to see you.”

Buck nods and looks back at Eddie.

“Eds your shoulder. Are you ok?”

Eddie smiles and scratches at his head.

“I’ve had worse.”

Buck rolls his eyes but takes Eddie’s hand into his.

“Oh shut up, you been whining like a baby about your shoulder.”

Eddie laughs.

“Says the one who couldn't even stop his own bleeding huh.”

His friend's face turns sad though and tears spill into his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re ok, Buck. I'm so glad.”

Buck squeezes his hand gently.

“I’m glad you’re ok too. Thank you for not letting go, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles.

“Got your back. remember?!”

“Yeah.”

Buck feels tired again and leans back on his pillow. The movement jostles his wound again and pain flares up.

“Oh, man getting shot sucks.”

Eddie chuckles.

“Right? It does. But hey, Chim and Hen are gonna have to do our chores for the next couple of weeks while we can watch and order them around."

Buck laughs out loud.

“Yeah, that we can do.”

#911 #911 fox #911 fanfiction #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #s04e13 #haleysfics #my writing #tw: gun violence #tw: blood and injuries #hurt/comfort #buck whump #eddie whump #my fics #haleys fics

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luthienne · 4 years

Note

Your blog's *chef's kiss* and I wish to ask do you have any quotes or what comes to mind when it comes to love mingled with grief/pain? Like losing someone at the stinging cost of the other? Or looking at a completed wonderful thing but knowing the pain and blood it stands on to be that way? Or when you look at someone realizing you now share hearts whether youd like it or not, that no bond in both your lives will ever come close to what both of you have(1)

how the love stiches both of you up, how achingly tender & vulnerable & warming it is and almost crying looking at where it is, how it is, what it became and what it grew from. Would love to hear if you got any that pops to your mind❤(2)

you are so kind! thank you, angel ♡ here and here are posts that reflect love mingled w grief/pain and tender/sweet love. here are a few more quotes that sort of encompass both for me:

“Not a day passes that I do not see ourselves, you and me, as we were when we met first. Every day of my life I see that.”

James Joyce, Exiles: A Play In Three Acts

“We can never go back. I know that now. We can go forward. We can find the love our hearts long for, but not until we let go grief about the love we lost long ago, when we were little and had no voice to speak the heart’s longing. All the years of my life I thought I was searching for love I found, retrospectively, to be years where I was simply trying to recover what had been lost, to return to the first home, to get back the rapture of first love. I was not really ready to love or be loved in the present. I was still mourning — clinging to the broken heart of girlhood, to broken connections. When that mourning ceased I was able to love again. I awakened from my trance state and was stunned to find the world I was living in, the world of the present, was no longer a world open to love. And I noticed that all around me I heard testimony that lovelessness had become the order of the day. I feel our nation’s turning away from love as intensely as I felt love’s abandonment in my girlhood. Turning away we risk moving into a wilderness of spirit so intense we may never find our way home again. I write of love to bear witness both to the danger in this movement, and to call for a return to love. Redeemed and restored, love returns us to the promise of everlasting life. When we love we can let our hearts speak.”

Bell Hooks, All About Love

“My heart is full not of guilt, or shame, or remorse, but of grief… Everything has become too terribly mixed up.”

Boris Pasternak, in a letter to Leonid Pasternak, from Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke

Jamie Anderson // Art piece by Ikenaga Yasunari (x)

“But if it’s love, by God, what is this thing? If good, why then the bitter mortal sting?”

Petrarch, from the ‘Canzoniere’ (tr. Mark Musa)

“bittersweet, undefeated creature – against you there is no defence”

Sappho, from Poems and Fragments (tr. Josephine Palmer)

“And if I should pick out the good in you – each shard of broken light, like glass from the wreck of such beauty, and look at that – or one golden afternoon when you hovered above me in rapture, oh half god – how would I bear to lift my hands, how would I bear to close my eyes and let you fall, and love be damned?”

Cecilia Woloch, “Lucifer, Full of Light,” Carpathia

Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things; “The Good Fight”

“...and if I cut myself, it was you I bled.”

Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.”

Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper

Henry Dumas, Knees of a Natural Man; “Valentines”

“No te nombro; pero estás en mí como la música en la garganta del ruiseñor aunque no esté cantando.

I never call your name, but you are in me like the song in the nightingale’s throat even when it’s not singing.”

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema LVII” (tr. James O’Connor)

Marguerite Duras - India Song (1975)

“I am sad because I love you, because I love you so much, and because I am not a bee to buzz with you lightly. I am not a flower, not a tree, not a rain-hewn stone. I am not a storm or a cresting wave, not a thorn or a vine. I am not the sun stinging the water, not the moon on the snow. I am not a star in the dark. I am not the dew-wet wind, not the cloud-stained dawn. I am only a girl, a small, plain girl, a girl who must smear her lips in honey to be found sweet.”

Amal El-Mohtar, The Honey Month

“Whether it was the quality of light or the clarity of my feelings for you, I don’t know, but there was softness and no blurring. ‘This is not a lie,’ I said to myself. ‘It may not hold, but it is true.’”

Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

“He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.”

Louise Glück, from Averno; "A Myth of Devotion"

Anna Akhmatova, Final Meeting: Selected Poetry (tr. Andrey Kneller)

“Your dying is my dying. / In you I exist—to live or not.”

Euripedes, from Alkestis (tr. Anne Carson)

Richard Siken, “Scheherazade”

“First love tempts / then puts out our eyes.”

Salma al-Khadra al-Jayyusi, from ‘Dearest love - III’ (ed. Charles Doria), Women of the Fertile Crescent: An Anthology of Modern Poetry by Arab Women (ed. Kamal Boullata)

Interactive :: House Saints by Hala Alyan

“We were the heartbreak of truth. / We were willing to break even more.”

Andrea Gibson, from The Madness Vase; “Close For Comfort”

“God, what are you doing to me? / What am I doing to myself?”

Adonis, from ‘Concerto for the Veiled Christ’, Selected Poems (tr. Khaled Mattawa)

“No. I was not afraid of him; but of myself. I seemed reborn in his unreflective eyes, reborn in unfamiliar shapes. I hardly recognized myself from his descriptions of me and yet, and yet – might there not be a grain of beastly truth in them?”

Angela Carter, from “The Bloody Chamber”

“It is true we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.”

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus

Keaton Henson, “Alright”

Velimir Khlebnikov, The Collected Poems & Writings of V. K. “My Darling,”

“But love is impossible and it goes on / despite the impossible. You’re the muscle / I cut from the bone and still the bone / remembers, still it wants (so much, it wants) / the flesh back, the real thing, / if only to rail against it, if only / to argue and fight, if only to miss / a solve-able absence.”

Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things; “In A Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me”

The Letters of Frida Kahlo: Cartas Apasionadas, tr. by Martha Zamora

Letter to Diego Rivera, July 23rd, 1935

“I want to give you everything. This is called a sickness.”

Camille Rankine, from Possession

Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours: Love Poems to God; ‘Lösch mir die Augen aus: ich kann dich sehen’, tr. Anita Barrows & Joanna Macy

“Love that incorporates, that devours the other person, that cuts the tendons of the will. Love as immolation of the self.”

Susan Sontag, from Reborn: “July, 1958”

#ask #anon #compilation #quote compilation #the dark's his bone #love as a force of nature #long post #i am. so tired #i hope these make sense #i've got several more asks that i promise i am getting around to --

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aarons-main-blog · 3 years

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I changed my mind, and decided to que this up immediately after posting the first one. I won't be home when you see this because I'm attending a funeral, but tell me what you think of it and I will see you when I get home!

Note: this was made on Google docs mobile, so when I get a chance I will actually use tab instead of just paragraphs.

"Wars, you said you knew the area!"

"I thought I did, but this is sure as hell not the same way I remember! Those ruins we passed back there? Those are completely new to me! This forest? I don't even recognize half of these plants! We should have reached a town hours ago!"

"Hey, stop fighting, you two, or-"

The group Link had been following for the last few hours came to a halt as the one with pink-tipped hair argued with the one with a blue scarf. He couldn't tell if they were a threat yet, they just seemed like lost travelers. Then again, that was the main way the Yiga clan tried to trick him.

Pinky and Wars kept arguing, until finally the smallest one in rainbow colors seemed to snap. "How about we admit it. We are lost, and just happened to find something that reminded Wars of home. It was NOONE's fault, because we ignored the obvious signs something was wrong. Now, we are lost in the middle of a forest, and unless you have an idea of what we should do, then SHUT UP!"

The group all seemed shocked by his outburst, Link and the rainbow included, and once they all seemed to get over it, the kid apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

The oldest one, probably the leader, said, "No, it's ok. Today has been a long day, and everyone seems on edge. Perhaps we should set up camp early, does that sound good to everyone?"

The group nodded collectively, and started to set up in the clearing that could barely fit all of them. The one in a green tunic and no pants volunteered for the night's first watch, and while it wouldn't be for a while, they seemed relaxed a bit more by the fact someone was willing to do it.

Link, who had been hiding a good distance away from them, stood up. He got a stealth potion that would last him a few hours at least ready, then decided he would investigate that night.

As the sun set, an awful smell enveloped the forest. "Legend, what did you do?!"

"I don't know! It was fine a minute ago!"

"It's smoking! How did you burn SOUP of all things?!"

"I didn't burn it, it just got too hot!"

"Because you ****ed up, Legend! That's literally how things burn up!"

"Wind, watch your mouth."

Link had just come back from following the path the group of strangers had taken, looking to see if they dropped anything interesting, when he heard the commotion. It smelled like burning hair or that one shrine he had found with the awful cook. Maybe they were cousins?

As Link got closer to get a better look, he saw four people standing around a large cooking pot with a brown/green liquid with chunks in it. Pathetic. Are all of them as bad cooks as that one? Link was amazed they had survived however long they had been traveling.

Pinkey poked the 'soup' with a wooden ladle. "It's still edible, look, the vegetables seem cooked enough."

"With all due respect, I don't know if I would want to eat that," the kid in a blue shirt said with a grimace. "I don't know if anyone else would either."

The old one took the ladle and used it to try a small sip of what they were calling a soup, and his face scrunched up immediately.

"Uh, Time?" The blue kid tapped the man's shoulder.

The man swallowed the drink, coughed, then said, "It is… certainly better than last time."

A few of the others gave their opinions, from encouraging to neutral, before deciding it was better than nothing.

None of them looked that happy about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what theoretically could have been called dinner, the one in the green tunic, which Link had identified as being named "Hyrule," started circling around the camp, gradually making them larger and larger before returning close and starting again. Near the middle of the third round, Link drank his stealth potion and snuck into the campsite.

There was a young adult in tan with a tall belt, there was a boy in blue(wind), there was a kid in rainbow, there was a young adult with a wolf pelt on his shoulders, still on in his sleep for some reason, there was one in red with pink hair tips(legend), and then there was the leader. Link got a good look at him. He had a fancy set of armour, a big sword, a bad eye, but the strangest thing was he had familiar markings covering his face. They were almost the same…

As the ones Link saw in nearly every mirror, looking right back at himself.

"Time?"

Link turned towards the voice to see the one called Hyrule looking at him. He had to play this right. "Yes?"

"Oh, thank the goddess. What are you up to?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I was going to see if you wanted off early." This was dangerous. If he realized the real Time was sleeping soundly next to him, he would wake up all the others, and then he'd have eight grumpy travelers armed to the teeth on his trail in seconds.

"You sure that's ok with you?"

"Yes, get some rest."

"Thanks, Time," the boy said with a smile. "I will."

Link somewhat directed Hyrule towards the opposite side of where Time was. He was extremely lucky the fire was ruining the boy's night vision.

"Time?"

Link stopped and turned his head a bit. "Yeah?"

There was a pause. "Thank you for being here for us."

Link smiled. "You don't have to mention it," mimicking the somewhat fancy way he had heard Time use words. "Goodnight."

Hyrule mumbled it back, seemingly exhausted from the travel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Hyrule woke up feeling well rested. The birds were singing a song only they knew, the trees provided shade from the early morning sun, the wind rustled leaves and bushes softly, and a nice smell emanated from the cooking pot.

Wait, did someone cook something edible? Hyrule shot up, feeling excited to see what had made someone unlock their inner cook.

"Hey, mornin, Hyrule!"

"Goodmorning, Wind! What's cooking?"

Wind was grinning like an idiot. "No idea, but none of us made it, that's for sure! Four woke up and saw it cooking, then woke up the rest of us, except for you and sky. Time says you didn't wake him up for his shift, so we thought you could use some re-"

Hyrule was confused. "Wait, what? Run that by me one more time."

Wind's grin fell just a little bit, before coming back up. "Four woke up first, saw something was cooking, and woke everyone but you and sky because we thought you must have kept watch the whole night. Is that not what happened?"

"Yeah, Time said he couldn't sleep last night, so he took over the watch early for me."

Time, who had been listening in, said "I think I would know my sleep schedule better than you would. You didn't wake me up last night, and I didn't wake myself up, that's for certain."

"Then who-"

Four hit the pot a few times. "Breakfast is ready, guys!"

The questions could wait. Nobody had had a good meal for at least a week or two, so they were excited to try the mysterious meal.

It. Was. Delicious!

After discussion, it was determined to be a mushroom, meat and rice based meal. The meat used was probably venison, and a high quality type at that. It was served with some mushrooms nobody recognized but everybody loved, and a strange rice they couldn't find an exact comparison of.

Idle conversation was of generally positive things and how beautiful the world was. All of their problems seemed far away, and the day promised to be a great one. As the last of the food was eaten up, and the bowl was starting to be wiped as clean as it would get, Twilight brought up the question on everyone's mind.

"I wonder who made this for us."

"Maybe it was a ghost!" Wind exclaimed.

"Maybe it was a passing traveler?" Four said at the same time.

Legend laughed. "It was not a ghost, you idiot!"

"You don't know that," Wind huffed. "I met a ghost once, she was nice!"

"You did NOT meet a ghost!"

"Yeah I did!"

"Cut it out you two," Time said with his signature 'stop' look. "Whoever did it, they must have been a nice person. Don't argue about things this good, ok?"

"Ok!" Wind said. Legend just scoffed.

Nobody noticed the person sitting on top of a tree, fiddling a strange ocarina.

I hope this was ok! I will be the first to admit my writing style isn't the best, but I think this is one of my better works at the moment. Comments and criticism is appreciated, and I may edit this if I find stupid things I want to change/fix. I should be home Friday, probably Thursday afternoon. Anyway, see you next time!

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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🗣Tues 15 Dec ‘20🙊

Anyone order their daily with EXTRA DISCOURSE today? Lucky you, I guess, I'd send it back to the kitchen if I had the option but this is more a 'you'll take what you get and like it' kind of establishment so here we are! EAT UP we got Liam and Lou Teasdale making everyone mad, Louis and Harry's teams forgetting they're supposed to be mortal enemies, and Zayn?? Getting papped?? Omg is Z3 really coming this time? I've been burned so many times before (flown too close to the sun) but what if....... So first Gigi and zaby stroller were papped, then Zayn was papped in his usual way-- 'if you can get a good picture of me in the seconds it takes me to walk from my front door to the car have at it, that's exactly all you get'-- and then a fan reported seeing Zigi and zaby at a pizza restaurant. Zayn's hair is bleached white blond and that's about all I can tell you except that Z NEVER gets papped (or spotted really) for nothing so I am excite!!

Liam's back! He did the postponed-from-last-Tues hour long live for Stand Up To Cancer (and raised $16k!) and he's got a show in two days so I'd say his extremely brief breather is probably done with, whether he got the time he needed to be happy about coming back or not. He seems in good shape for the live though, even if he does say “its been a really long day, you don't even know, REALLY long” and that what he wants most for Christmas is “to have a little bit of time to reflect.” But he says he is going to take some time out and go away and write music “for the first time in a very long time,” in the new year, nice! He mentions how he went up to Sweden for recording recently and says it ”went really well I'm really really excited” about the new music and, uhhh, “got something sent through from Mick Fleetwood while I was over in Sweden writing, some guitar stuff, which was amazing, and he was dressed like santa at the time!” I...what??? I'll just... leave that there?? About other bands, he says that he's become a big fan of the Wanted over time, that “someone Zayn-ed out,” of Little Mix but “Zayn left for pretty much the same reasons and I do feel for them,” and “are 5SOS still together? Did they pull an us I thought they pulled an us?” He said yes, it's so great about Louis' show, and “it was great, and do you know what, like listening through those lyrics, it’s really nice to hear the truth in his music because obviously I mean I know all of the full story about him, and [pause].. and uh... his relationship with his girlfriend and whatever else,” SKLDYSSKKJ.

This long live also had him responding to screen comments he would usually ignore (though thank GOD he only reads but doesn't answer 'what happened with Niall in Japan' please tell me the questioner wasn't trying to get him to comment on the 'violently masturbating' story), anyway so we got Liam on touching his hair if larry is real-- “of course that's not going to happen don't be silly,” and on whether he thinks 'larry is disrespectful' “sometimes I do... actually that's not true, all the time I do.” Well he's not wrong though I'd expand that to 'all the fans' but if I had to wade through a million “touch your nose if larry is real” comments every time I was promoting my own material, for ten years, I'd probably get tetchy too! He didn't say it was or wasn't real, as he himself pointed out he never WILL do that for REASONS; tbh I'm with Liam can people PLEASE stop being so embarrassing on main and let him live? ANYWAY, moving on, his Advent Alarm clock today is the sleep story edited down to be just Liam laughing for like 30 seconds, aka the exact edit that I suggested they should make a couple weeks ago, which I find frankly extremely alarming (ALARMing HA) are they... listening to me?? Well if Liam's management are looking for ideas BOY HAVE I GOT SOME FOR THEM hit me up fellas PLEASE.

Harry and Louis both announced further postponements of their UK and Europe tour shows, like really the same announcement and just fully back to back, I can only assume that after weeks of intensive hashing out to match up dates their teams have arrived at some kind of plan and were like cool let's announce! Louis has added some new shows, while Harry's new schedule is undisclosed as yet. Harry says “I really hope to play these shows and will have news for you in the new year on when they will take place.” Louis' new dates include previously omitted countries (Iceland! Austria!), and those tickets go on sale Friday. Harry did not respond to Rob Sheffield's awkward attempt to link Watermelon Sugar and WAP as being similar but he did like Megan Thee Stallion's post celebrating her successful year, and Vulture ranked Adore You in its top 5 videos of the year with a much better take on what Harry is all about, saying that it “highlights one of the singer’s best traits: his willingness to be delightfully weird.” Kid Harpoon said that he and Harry “wrote a song in Japan that may yet see the light of the day,” and Harry continues to roast him, disputing his songwriter of the year award-- “they found 8,000,000 opposing ballots in a bin behind his house! FRAUD!”

And last but most discourse-y-est of all, The Sun made waves today, pulling the most salacious parts of a Lou Teasdale interview with the Sex, Lies and DM Slides podcast from last week and bringing it to wider attention. In the interview she talked at length about systemic discrimination against women working in the music industry and her own work experiences, which naturally include (very briefly) touching on her highest profile job- the years she spent traveling with 1D. In this context she says “you kind of can’t sleep with them [the band]- it’s quite important to keeping your job... some people would come in and like you know assistants and stuff and I think they would really think... that it was love and obviously it’s not,” and “it’s just the quickest way to lose your job- because then they’ve got a new girlfriend and she’s there and they don’t want you in the room.” She did not sell her story to The Sun she mentioned this in passing as part of an interview about her work experiences; she herself says, “I didn’t do an interview [with] the sun. I’ve never done that. I did a podcast with friends about loads of things.”

There is nothing remotely unlikely in this story, either in the concept that members of the band slept with girls casually (we know that certain of them did and there isn't even anything wrong with that in a situation of consent, the denial of it is as bizarre as scribbling out the beer bottle in a 28 year old man's hand), or that low level members (“assistants and stuff”) of the 150 person+ crew appeared and disappeared on a regular basis. The band were, to my guess, probably simply not paying very much attention to the serious ramifications of this carelessness and the consequences rather than demanding that people be fired, but I do very much hope they've learned over the years to be responsible for the kind of power that they have over other peoples' lives (something I really doubt they understood the extent of yet as very young people being dragged from one place to another who felt powerless themselves).

#liam payne #harry styles #louis tomlinson #zayn #lou teasdale #listen: people talk about wanting the 1D tell all but I don't think you guys do want it at all tbh #you know the whole point of that is that it will destroy the 'perfect angels' front that was created around the boys?#loving and supporting someone even though you know they are imperfect and flawed is not something to be ashamed of though #so I say bring it on #Liam has SO MANY reasons to be cranky right now and coming back online to everyone clamoring for him to comment #on Louis' record breaking veeps stream... honestly think it through?? have some fucking tact #Liam also said Freddie and Bear facetime which is just such clear nonsense I have no comment he just wants to make people happy #I DON'T KNOW if the Mick Fleetwood thing is real like – he seems dead serious??? I think it's serious?#How fucking Liam is that right he is as ever the most unrealistic I'm bringing back that tag:#Liam is a Gary Sue #Zaayyyyn is Z3 coming??? listen may I suggest sir-- LIVEZTREAM??? PLEASE?#I know you won't tour and wouldn't want you to but just consider how PERFECT this would be?? PLEASE SIR #lost in the shuffle: Lou Teasdale also addressed the old quote about keeping the 1D boys from looking 'too feminine'#(assumed to be @harry) saying 'it’s taken totally out of context. A clip from male grooming interview talking about grooming men.#I have no problem with men wearing make up or looking feminine it’s my profession. I apologise it sounds like that here.'#I feel like the truth is somewhere in between but I very much doubt she- the MUA- had final say over their images #and might well have not been the only thing standing between harry and his nail art and eyebrow grooming #I don't like her but like- dislike her for better reasons!#There are plenty she's very annoying but talking about sexism in the workplace and telling her story isn't one of them #Liam said he was very drunk watching Louis' show #I have a lot of things I'd like to say to Liam's management but mostly not publicly and some of them very rude #but I will say that while I guess the acknowledgement that young girls are the real drivers of the music industry and should be courted is #cool the continued obsession with only marketing these guys to that demographic was always ridiculous #and gets worse every year and Liam's team is simply throwing away money and fans by not marketing him so hard (heh) to out gay men #long post

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Disclosed

Pairing: Bakugou x reader x Kirishima

Warnings: Like, two sex jokes? Nothing that crazy. Once again, gay, bi and poly as fuck. Oh and language too.

Author’s note:

So uh, I guess this ends the saga of Little Secret. I’m still doing Kiribaku fics, but I guess I just had a bit of a theme going here in this trilogy. I tried to focus more on Eijirou in this one since he kind of got pushed to the side a bit in the other two stories. Little Secret had more of y/n’s omniscience, while Big Secret was more Bakugou driven (big brain hehe).

You can probably ignore the ending of this since it’s really really cheesy and it was the only thing I could think of at the time I wrote it (I think this is another one of my fics that I finished at 3 am or something).

Anyhow, I’d say this is my favorite part of the trilogy in some ways! It’s super soft and fluffy, and I really like how I wrote it out. I seriously hope you enjoy it!

I love you guys!

-Sugar

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

As much as Kirishima loved being a hero, honestly, he loved his days off more.

He watched from in front of the counter as you amicably bickered with Bakugou, bustling around the kitchen still in your respective pajamas.

"I'm just saying we could have something other than cinnamon rolls for breakfast," the blond man pouted, tailing you as you walked from the fridge to the oven.

"It'll be fun," you said. "Geez, we don't have to keep up with that hero diet you set up every day. It's our day off, let me have my sugar and carbs."

Bakugou began to grumble something about the amount of chemicals that were probably in the pre-made pastry dough, but you paid him no heed. The little cheerful beeping tones of the oven sounded through the room as you set the temperature.

"How long is that going to take?" Kirishima asked.

"Like half an hour," you said. "Need a snack 'til then? We need to eat these oranges before they go bad."

"Sure, I'll take one." You tossed the orange fruit to him, which he caught easily and began to peel.

"You want one, 'Tsuki?"

Bakugou grumbled a "Fine" and you handed him his, taking a third for yourself.

Normally, you may have been able to wait until the sweet pastry rolls were done, but instead you'd spent the last two hours very slowly waking up and cuddling in bed.

As per usual, Katsuki had woken up first, letting his eyes adjust to the warm tones the room had taken on with the rising of the sun. He remembered today was his day off, and a final bout of tension left his shoulders. His back had previously been pressed against Eijirou's, but now he decided to turn himself over to face him. Peeking through scarcely opened lids, Bakugou glimpsed your form on the other side of Kirishima, scarcely visible as you snuggled into his chest. Bakugou allowed himself something he only saved in silent, private moments like this: a smile. Just a small one, barely even lifting the side of his mouth. But he couldn't help it. The sight of his perfect boyfriend and girlfriend fast asleep in each others' arms brought him such an overwhelming feeling of compersion, he simply couldn't help himself.

Bakugou draped an arm over Kirishima's side, rubbing at your forearm with gentle strokes of his fingers. You hummed in your sleep, pushing yourself even closer into the red-haired man holding you. The blond breathed in Eijirou's heavy, musky scent, letting it flood his nose and instill a sense of unparalleled calm over himself.

The shifting motions on either side of him caused Eijirou to begin to blink his own eyes open, shedding the foggy haze of sleep from his mind. Dreams from his previous night's rest danced and fleeted at the edges of his memory, before they were ultimately discarded and lost to the unrelenting abyss that is abandoned remembrance. He felt warm. Warm, and comfortable, and happy, and perfect.

Eijirou noticed the steady movement of the arm placed over him, signaling that Bakugou was awake. You, on the other hand, slept on; eyes lightly closed, lips parted with breath, gently clasping the front of his shirt. Kirishima slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed by another and then another.

His soft lips combined with the soothing motions of Katsuki's hand finally brought you smoothly out of your slumber, groaning a bit in your consciousness.

"You two awake yet?" Bakugou's voice sounded from over Kirishima's broad shoulders. It was a little gruffer than usual from sleep and it made you smile.

"Yeah," Kirishima answered for you, meeting your (E/C) orbs with his own.

You pulled your arm from under Bakugou's hand, moving it until your fingers were able to intertwine and lock with his over Eijirou's side. He felt safe under your loving union, tying yourselves together over him so the three of you became one unit.

That was how your morning had started. For a long time, the three of you laid there, chatting in low tones as you and Katsuki snuggled into either side of Eijirou, who later turned to lie on his back to tuck each of you under an arm. The experience was nothing other than peaceful, the three of you content to simply lay in each others' presence.

Ever since that one fateful afternoon nearly two years ago, your lives could scarcely have improved more. Inviting Bakugou into your relationship was the best decision you'd made, and now here you were. The three of you had graduated from UA and begun your lives as heroes; Eijirou still worked as an indispensable sidekick under Fatgum, while Bakugou was still in the process of getting a hero agency of his own off the ground. But today was a day you had settled on to spend completely together, and it was all going just wonderfully.

Somehow, the idea had gotten into your head that you'd make cinnamon rolls for breakfast, so once you and your boyfriends eventually crawled out of bed, you set about fulfilling the urge.

Kirishima popped another orange slice into his mouth, watching you absentmindedly as you pulled out everything you would need. Which, to say, wasn't much, seeing as you were simply baking them from a can. As you pulled out the pan and cooking spray, Eijirou's red eyes flicked over to Bakugou, who had removed the cardboard tube from the fridge again. The redhead fought back a smirk as he watched his shared boyfriend scowl at the ingredients, thinking back to his almost monthly 'your body is a temple and you should treat it as such' lectures he'd give the two of you.

You caught sight of him as well, striding towards him and plucking the container from his hands. Bakugou started grumbling again, turning and exiting the kitchen to presumably go get dressed or something.

Kirishima took the opportunity to come up behind you as you popped the cardboard cylinder open, letting the preformed dough puff up as it met the air. His arm wrapped loosely around your waist as he bent a little to place his head on your shoulder. "Need help with anything?" he asked.

"No, thanks," you said, taking the unbaked rolls and filling your pre-sprayed pan.

He hummed and straightened, moving so he could lean against the counter. He noticed your orange next to him, partially peeled and abandoned. Taking one of the remaining slices from his own, he held it out towards you. "Hey, babe."

You turned and caught sight of it, smiling as you took the little slice between your teeth. You pulled it into your mouth as he pushed from his end, and you began to chew. "Mmm, that one's good."

Eijirou grinned back in agreement and ate the last slice. He reached for your abandoned one, working his nails beneath the pliable peel. "So what made you buy cinnamon rolls? Other than the fact that they're delicious, that is."

"Cold nostalgia," you said, tweaking the dough in the filled pan so it looked right. "I saw them at the store and thought to myself, 'Hey, I remember eating those. I could totally make them myself. Tasty.' Also I thought you might like them. We can all share." You picked up the pan in one hand and carried it to the oven, checking that it was the right temperature and sliding them in.

"I'm not sure about Katsuki," Eijirou said, picking some of the white fibers off another orange slice. "He didn't seem too thrilled."

"Meh," you said, fingers tapping out twenty-seven minutes on the oven timer, bringing more happy beeps to your ears. "If he doesn't eat any of them, there's just more for us, I guess. But you know how he is. You think he'll crack in front of us or wait until we leave?"

Eijirou smiled as you walked back to him, running your hands up his sides affectionately as you grinned up at him. "I'll bet one of us will find him having one in the middle of the night," he wagered.

"You're on," you giggled, swiping another orange slice from him.

"Hey! I would have given you some if you had asked, you know."

"Oops." You slid the slice slowly into your mouth, keeping your eyes on his own. A burst of sweet citric juice filled your mouth as you bit down, and you shut your eyes for a second just to fully enjoy it.

The sensation of a finger poking at your nose caused your lids to flutter open. Your eyes crossed to look at the offending digit, rolling back up and focusing on Eijirou's face.

"Bep," he said, the note accompanying his action.

You booped his nose in unhostile revenge, beginning to giggle as a mini-war began. Eijirou used the pad of his pointer finger to jab lightly at your face, making a new sound effect with each one. You had the advantage since both of your hands were free; tapping both your index fingers on his torso, face, and shoulders.

"Boop."

"Beep."

"Bap."

Bakugou shuffled back into the kitchen and watched your cheerful assaults on one another, both his cheeks and his heart warming at the sound of your giggles. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Being in love," Eijirou said, proceeding to poke at your cheek. "Get over here, Katsu."

Bakugou just tched and wandered over to the oven to look at the baking rolls. "Dumbasses."

"Better hurry up, 'Tsuki," you said, stepping closer to Eijirou. "Or else you're going to miss out on the kisses."

"Oooooh-," Kirishima drew out for a second before your lips met his. He reciprocated, noting how you both shared the same orange-citrus taste. Out of curiosity, he peeked his eyes open to meet Bakugou's.

The blond man scowled, finally stomping over to you. "Fine. But I'm going in the middle." He wedged himself between you two.

"Yay!" Your arms wound around his slim waist, resting just above his hips. Your lips attached themselves to the base of Bakugou's neck, while Kirishima smooched at his mouth. It was quiet and sweet for a moment, each partaking in another's lips until you were satisfied, swapping positions when necessary.

You separated from Bakugou, running your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment as you looked into his eyes. He'd gotten better about asking for and receiving affection over the years you'd been dating, but it still brought warmth crashing through your system every time.

"Eiji Baby?" you asked, keeping your eyes on Bakugou.

"Yeah?"

"How much time is left on the oven?"

Kirishima glanced up at the glowing digits. "Eighteen minutes."

You hummed. "I'll get started on the icing for my rolls."

"Our rolls," Eijirou corrected, grinning at your over-the-shoulder eye roll you gave him as you made your way to the pantry to grab some powdered sugar.

Bakugou had the same reaction as you, tsking under his breath and moving to lean against the counter next to Kirishima. His position wasn't held long however, since you soon returned with your bag of sugar and the carton of milk, shooing them away so you could use the space. You pulled down a bowl and poured in some sugar and milk, beginning to mix it into a thick liquid with a spoon.

"Need a taste tester?" Kirishima asked hopefully.

"Eiji, this is pure sugar."

He glanced back at the ingredients. "Yeah."

There was something undeniably satisfying about watching the powder mix with the milk, going from fine and crumbly and turning into a sweet liquid mixture to later be drizzled over your pastries.

Maybe it was the motions of your hand as you manipulated the spoon. Maybe it was the ambiance of the room, surrounded by the two men you loved and planned to spend the rest of your life with. Either way, the song that had quietly been thrumming at the back of your mind wandered to the front, and the next thing you knew, you were humming.

Bakugou and Kirishima looked up at the sound of your voice, small smiles spreading their lips. Eijirou recognized the tune you were quietly singing to yourself, quickly adding his voice to your own. Your cheeks heated when you met his eyes, yet you continued to hum along with him. For a moment, you were both content with hitting the notes (or at least, trying to in some people's cases) wordlessly. But then you came upon the chorus, and it was as though you simultaneously reached a shared agreement that it should be belted out properly.

"S'GONNA TAKE A LOT TO DRAG ME AWAY FROM YOUUUU! THERE'S NOTHING THAT A HUNDRED MEN OR MORE COULD EVER DO! I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICAAAA—"

Bakugou watched you with an expression of general disgust and confusion. This was an act, of course, for the most part. He could never quite get used to the spontaneous concerts you both would occasionally throw, singing whatever obnoxious song that came to your minds. You probably only had one brain cell between you two, and it was a tossup of who got it for the day. But there was something about it that made his heart stir and his neck prickle. Maybe it was the absolute glow about Kirishima as he threw back his head to belt out lyrics. Maybe it was the way you had taken the spoon out of the icing bowl, singing at it as if it were a microphone. Bakugou would die before he ever joined in, but he never objected to watching.

The moment the song finished, you started on another. Kirishima turned to you as a new idea struck you. You lifted your hands to a sort of air guitar, playing a bit of the intro to the song in your head before beginning to sing again:

"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I~"

Kirishima smiled, liking the way you thought. He admired your sense of humor and how well you went along with goofing off with him. The redhead let you sing the first verse, dancing around the kitchen space from him to Bakugou, looking at each of them as you sang some of the lyrics and wiggling your eyebrows.

It wasn't long before Eijirou jumped in again, joining you as you sang to Katsuki. "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and, desert you~"

Eijirou took your spoon as you rocked out on your personal invisible guitar, going to town on chords that didn't exist.

Bakugou fought down the butterflies swarming in his stomach at the sight of you two having fun. You would lean against him and grin up into his face from one side, while Kirishima draped an arm over his shoulders and passionately sang into your spoon. Katsuki noticed that some of the icing had dripped down onto his hand, but the redhead seemed to not have noticed.

You paused to giggle at Kirishima, who started taking the song as seriously as he could. His eyes were squeezed shut, fist curled into a ball as he drew out some of the lyrics as though it were so much more than an old-timey memed love song. You let your voice fade as he did his own thing, only offering it as further back up vocals. Eventually, he reached the final reiteration of the chorus, and let himself riff on the final lines as a finisher. When he was done, he opened his eyes, finding that he had even kneeled down on the floor a little in his passion. He stood and grinned, and you enthusiastically applauded his performance.

"That was for you, babes!" he said, pointing at his small audience of two.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could hear how it was a little choked from how cute he had found it. The liar. Both you and Eijirou could see how his cheeks had changed a few shades darker right in front of you.

Kirishima strolled confidently back up to you, swooping each of you into an arm and kissing Katsuki full on the lips without warning. Bakugou's eyes widened at the contact, cheeks burning even more than before. Eijirou pulled back with a satisfying smack of his lips, diving in to give you the same treatment. As per usual, you were more receptive to the kiss, more than happy to throw your arms around his neck and partake in his lips.

"Enjoy the song, there?" you teased once you pulled back, tracing your fingers under his jawline.

"Hell yeah!" Eijirou flashed those perfect sharp little teeth of his in yet another heart-stopping grin. Did he have any idea what that smile did to both Bakugou and you? He had to know it turned your hearts to pure hot chocolate, right?

"Got a song rec, Bakubabe?" you asked, turning to your blond boyfriend. "You mustn't be excluded from our concert on this fine morning."

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anyway because your shit rolls are almost done."

You glanced at the oven timer, which was, in fact, counting down the seconds until it went off. "Ha ha ha! My children!"

You slid out of Eijirou's hold to grab your oven mitt out of its drawer. The oven went off with a drawn-out beep the moment you stepped up to it, cracking the door open and taking a peek inside. A wonderful smell hit you in the face along with a gust of hot air, and the sight of six perfectly golden cinnamon rolls greeted you.

"Look at them!" you said as you pulled them out with your mitted hand. You turned off the oven and canceled the timer before walking back to the counter to let the pan cool.

"Can I ice them?" Eijirou asked, coming up behind you to get a good look.

"Not yet. They have to cool first."

"Aww, man."

You pulled out a new spoon to use for frosting, since the previous one had been breathed all over. Next you began to clear off the counter, picking up any pieces of orange peel abandoned from breakfast.

Kirishima leaned against the counter again, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon roll smell that had flooded the kitchen. "I love it when you bake, (Y/N)," he said. "It's so much fun. The kitchen smells great, everything always tastes great—"

"Always?" you asked skeptically with a smirk.

"I guess there was that one time," he admitted. "That was—that was probably not a very good idea."

"If it weren't for me," Bakugou cut in, "you would have burned the whole house down."

"An artist must experiment with her craft." You flipped your hair a bit, turning back to your kitchen maintenance. There wasn't much to do. Between both yours and Bakugou's preference for a neat house, your counters usually stayed pretty clear.

Eijirou glanced at the bowl of icing, dipping the tip of his finger into the white mixture. "You know what this looks like?"

"No," you and Bakugou said at the same time firmly, understanding what he meant immediately.

"Shot down," Eijirou said. "You're right, that wasn't that good."

You putzed for another minute, finally hovering your hand over the cooling pan. "That should be good enough."

You had Eijirou harden the tips of his fingers to hold the pan as you began moving the rolls out onto a plate. He started humming again as you drove the spatula under the baked goods.

"Seriously?" Bakugou asked, having inched closer to watch. "Again with the singing?"

"I've got a song in my manly, chivalrous heart," Kirishima said, turning to grin at him. "Can't help it. I'm in the zone."

"I'm liking this zone," you said. "It's fun."

You pushed the icing bowl to Eijirou and took out another spoon for yourself, dipping it in and allowing the sugary liquid to drizzle over the golden brown confections. Kirishima did the same on his own, still humming the tune of Be A Man from Mulan and nodding his head to the individual notes. You danced along with him, moving your hips to his favorite Disney song.

Kirishima's eyes wandered down to your swaying movements. You really did wear those shorts nicely.

You jumped at the sensation of a large hand gently grabbing at your butt. Turning, you saw Eijirou's slight smile on his lips. "Eiji?"

"What?"

"Didn't you get enough last night?"

Kirishima shrugged, finally removing his hand. "Can't a man admire his woman's perfect body?"

You rolled your eyes, tapping the sugar-coated spoon to his nose.

He blinked at the cold sticky sensation, going cross-eyed in an attempt to look at the drop of icing. "Yeah, I probably deserved that."

You smirked and rolled your eyes as you went back to icing your cinnamon rolls, watching Eijirou out of the corner of your eye. He was trying to figure out if his tongue was long enough to lick it off the tip of his nose, but so far, of course, he was having difficulties.

"Idiot," Bakugou said, taking Kirishima's chin and turning his face to his. He captured the sweet white droplet between his lips and swiped his tongue over it.

Kirishima's eyes widened at the gesture. "Katsuki?"

"What?" Bakugou shot him a teasing grin. "You had something on your face."

You chuckled at the two of them, tearing off a roll from the bunch. Eijirou noticed your action and took one for himself, cheeks a little pinker than usual. Bakugou watched as you both bit down.

Eijirou bounced a little on his toes as he chewed the sweet bread. "So good!"

You smiled and nodded in agreement. "Mhm!"

Bakugou looked from you to Kirishima, then to the plate of warm rolls.

"Sure you don't want one, Katsuki?" you asked. "They're pretty good."

The blond sighed, finally grabbing a roll for himself. "It's too late to be cooking breakfast now."

"He cracked!" you said, turning your gaze to Kirishima.

"Did not." Bakugou aggressively took a large bite out of his cinnamon roll.

"You said you weren't going to have any." You cocked your head at him, taking another bite of your own.

"Did I?" Bakugou smirked at you and licked a bit of frosting off his lip.

You thought back for a moment. Maybe he hadn't. He'd certainly acted like it though.

"Well, do you like it?" you prodded.

"Sure." Bakugou shrugged and examined the cross-section of his roll. "Probably would have been better if you'd actually made it yourself."

You folded your arms. "Too much work. I wanted a cinnamon roll and they had them in the store. Simple as throwing them in the oven."

"But the preservatives," he argued.

"But my lacking baking skills. Besides, now I'll live forever."

"Hah? That's not how that works, dumbass."

"Well, I think they're perfect." Eijirou cut in. He put an arm around you and Katsuki and pulled you into either side of him. "You've got the spice—" he kissed Katsuki on his cheek, "—and you've got the sugar." He kissed your cheek.

"What the fuck, Shitty Hair."

"I'm not always sugar," you half-heartedly protested, snorting a little at his cheesiness and ignoring Bakugou.

Eijirou paused for a second, considering. "Yeah, okay. But . . . my metaphor."

"Your metaphor is stupid."

You swatted at Katsuki. "Oh, shut up. What are you in this situation, Eiji?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Hmm . . . maybe you tie us together," you said, beginning to run your fingertips over his forearm. "Roll us up tight in your arms."

Both Kirishima and Bakugou blinked at you for a moment, cheeks dusted a shade darker than normal.

"So we're a cinnamon roll?" Kirishima asked.

"Ye—"

"I AM NOT A CINNAMON ROLL!" Katsuki shuffled against Eijirou's arm without really trying to get away.

"I think you are," you said. "What do you say, Eiji? He's an adorable smol bean—"

"No."

"—too precious for this world—"

"NO."

"—protecc at all costs—"

Bakugou threw the remaining third of his cinnamon roll at you, and it bounced off your head onto the floor.

"HEY—!"

He slipped out of Kirishima's arm for real this time, making an advance towards you. You ducked out of the redhead's hold too, running off to the living room.

"I PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THOSE ROLLS, KATSUKI!" you called behind you.

"Sure."

"JUST ADMIT YOU'RE MY PRECIOUS BABY CINNAMON ROLL."

"Never!"

Eijirou listened to the sounds of his partners chasing each other through the house. Finishing off his morning treat, he smiled, thinking about how lucky he was to have the two of you. You no longer hid anything from each other, and everything was laid out in the open. Your futures were bright, and Kirishima knew in his heart that you'd forever be happy as long as you were together. From now on, your feelings would remain disclosed.

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

[Big Secret]

[Little Secret]

Taglist: @loxbbg @runrabbitrun3 @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Fate in Narnia

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: A year after the Narnian Revolution, Y/N, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are sent back to Narnia. This means the three have a chance to be King and Queens, but most importantly, it means Y/N and Caspian can see each other again.

Masterlist

I return home from my classes at the university with groceries for dinner. After a long day like today, I’m reminded that it’s just me left to take care of Edmund and Lucy. Peter and Susan joined Mother and Father in America six months ago. They write to us often, promising they’ll send for us too when it’s safer. Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can balance classes, work, and picking up the slack for Aunt Beatrice. Her son Eustace and her husband don’t do anything to help around the house. Sometimes it feels like I’m taking care of five people.

“Edmund! Lucy!” I holler up the stairs after I set the groceries down in the kitchen.

When I don’t hear a response, I jog up the steps. They should be back from school by now, it’s nearly time for dinner. I hear a commotion coming from my and Lucy’s room. If it’s Edmund and Eustace going at it again I might just scream and I’m supposed to be the more patient older sibling!

I swing open the door to find Eustace and Edmund fighting. However, my attention is stolen by Lucy standing in front of a picture frame spewing water.

“What have you three done?!” I rush into the room.

“It wasn’t us!” Lucy explains, grinning brightly.

I glance between my sister and the ocean painting frantically. “You mean-”

Narnia. Caspian.

Eustace and Edmund finally notice the water swallowing up the room. Edmund hurries over to us. Based on his grin, he’s thinking what we are too. Eustace screams and goes to rip the frame off the wall.

“I’m just going to smash it!” He threatens.

“No!” My siblings and I struggle with our cousin for the frame.

The ice-cold water fills the room in a matter of seconds. We each struggle to kick ourselves to the surface as the furniture of the room starts to float. I close my eyes, afraid of what may happen. I keep kicking to the surface, in the need of air. When I finally reach the top after what feels like an eternity, I take in a deep breath.

“Swim!” Lucy shouts. “Eustace swim!”

I snap open my eyes and a massive wooden ship is sailing toward us. I scream and Edmund grabs my arm to get me to start swimming. My brother and I swim like Olympians to get away from the path of the ship.

“It’s Caspian!” Lucy yells enthused. “Guys, It’s Caspian!”

Edmund and I halt immediately. Two men swim up and take each of us safely.

“Caspian,” I repeat breathlessly, searching the surface for him.

“You’re alright now,” the sailor assures me as he starts guiding me toward the ship.

“Are we in Narnia?” Edmund asks one of the sailors helping us.

“Yes, you’re in Narnia,” the man chuckles happily.

After Edmund and I are brought up on the side of the ship, one of the sailors offers me his hand to help me on. I step onto the deck and immediately start scanning the many faces for the one I want to see most.

“Y/N!”

I spin around on my heels and am met with the raven-haired prince I’ve been longing to see. A bright smile appears across my lips as I run across the short distance. He opens his arms to me and I leap into them. He laughs deeply, twirling me around playfully. His embrace is warm and strong, just as I remember. Oh, how I’ve missed him. He lowers me to the deck, but his hands remain on my waist.

“How long has it been for you?” He checks instantly.

“A year and you?!”

I can’t hide my worry that it’s been forever. Granted, he looks far too good for it to have been too long. He looks practically the same except for the facial hair.

“Three years,” he smiles and relief rushes over me.

“Thank heavens it wasn’t over a thousand again,” I sigh, laughing lightly.

“You still are older though...” he sucks in air sharply between his teeth.

“Oh stop it!” I swat his arm playfully.

“Beautiful as ever I might add,” he compliments and leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

“Caspian!” Ed interrupts joyfully.

“Edmund!”

Caspian and Edmund embrace and Lucy comes to join us. Our attention is stolen when Eustace lands on deck failing.

“Get this rat off of me!” He screams.

A mouse comes leaping off Eustace and bouncing over to us.

“Reepicheep!” Lucy gleams.

“Good to see you again, Rep,” Ed greets.

The mouse bows to the three of us. “Your Majesties, always a pleasure.”

Caspian comes up behind me and drapes a blanket over my shoulders. I thank him quietly and wrap the fabric around myself. His hands remain on my shoulders as we watch my cousin go mad.

“Where in the blazes am I?!” Eustace fusses.

“You’re on the Dawn Treader! The greatest ship in all of Narnia!” A minotaur announces to Eustace.

The boy faints instantly, making everyone on the crew laugh, including Caspian and Edmund. Lucy ridicules them.

“Was it something I said?” The minotaur asks us.

“No, don’t take it personally. He’s just never been to Narnia,” I explain kindly. “In our world, there aren’t any minotaur.”

“Oh, interesting,” the creature replies with a shrug.

Caspian slips his arm around my waist and appears at my side. “See to him will you?” He asks of the sailor.

“Right away, Your Majesty,” the minotaur bows.

Caspian then jogs off to the stairs leading up to the helm of the ship.

“Gentlemen!” Caspian gathers everyone’s attention. “Behold our castaways! Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valiant, and Y/N the Gracious! High King and Queens of Narnia!”

Each of the sailors gets down on one knee and bow their heads. My brother, sister, and I can’t help but smile.

Caspian hurries back down and takes my hand to guide all of us inside. “Come! Let’s get you changed and I can show around!” _________________________________________ As the sun starts to set on the horizon, I watch over the side of the ship as the waves hit against the wood. Dolphins play in them, dancing along with the white foam. It reminds me of when I would watch them at sunrise when we lived in Cair Paravel.

A pair of arms snake around my torso and bring me into their chest. I rest my head back against Caspian and slip my arms over his. He plants a kiss to my temple gently. For a year I’ve missed this. The last time we were in Narnia, Caspian and I hardly had any time after the revolution to settle. It came as a shock when Peter announced we would be returning home. I wasn’t ready to go and Caspian wasn’t ready to say goodbye. It took every ounce of willpower to leave.

“I have a surprise for you,” Caspian whispers in my ear.

“Oh do you?” I snicker.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs with a nod.

Reluctantly, I close my eyes and hold out my hands. I feel a familiar leather sheath and strap brush against my palm as Caspian lowers the object into my hands slowly.

“Okay, open!” Caspian gleams.

My eyes flicker open and sure enough, it’s my old weapon gear. “My dual-swords!”

“I’ve kept them safe since you’ve been gone!” Caspian tells me.

Over the moon, I spin on my heels and pull him into a hug. I can’t believe he’s kept them with him after all this time and even took the liberty of taking them on the voyage. His arms linger around me and I ponder the feeling.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my shoulder.

“Me too,” I mutter solely, resting my cheek against his chest.

Caspian tightens his embrace upon hearing my words. Three years have gone by for him. A year was long enough to feel like a lifetime to me.

“So Caspian-” Edmund voices, making Caspian and I part. I place my weapons down on a barrel and lean against the rail behind me. Edmund doesn’t notice my glaring at him for interrupting. “-have you managed to find yourself a queen in the three years we’ve been away?” Edmund asks, amused.

“Oh uh...” Caspian stammers nervously.

My lips part as I stare at my brother dumbfounded. “Ed-”

“No, none to compare to your sister,” Caspian answers to my surprise.

“Ew,” Edmund grimaces in disgust and cowers off somewhere.

I turn to Caspian in awe. “Do you really mean that?”

“Every word,” he whispers, reaching up and caressing my cheek.

I lean into his touch as my eyes fall shut with immense peace. A sense of peace I haven’t felt in over a year.

“I’ve counted the days, waiting for your return. I knew there was a chance it may never happen, but I couldn’t give up hope. I still love you, Y/N,” he confesses and I open my eyes. “If not more than I did when you left.”

I step forward, leaning into my press my lips to his softly. The sensation is exactly as I remember, if not better than before. I part from him for a second, resting my forehead against his. Our eyes meet, my Y/E/C ones, and his jet black ones that I adore so much. The eyes I’ve dreamt about each night for the past year.

“I love you too, Caspian,” I whisper.

He smiles, releasing a breathless laugh of joy and takes a step back. His hands take both of mine and he rubs them with his thumbs softly. “I... I know you’ve never had a choice and I know I’m asking a lot of you but... will you stay here in Narnia... with me?”

My eyes search his face at a rapid rate. Is he truly asking me this? I take a moment to consider what he’s really asking me. I would be leaving behind my world forever. I may never see my family again. After all, this could be the last time we ever come back to Narnia.

“And I know that would mean asking you another question,” he continues. “I have something else for you.” He steps back and lowers himself to one knee.

My lips part as I start to comprehend what’s happening. The crew takes notices and starts to gather, along with Edmund and Lucy.

Caspian reaches into his pocket and a reveals a gold floral engraved ring in his palm. “It was my mother’s. I’ve kept it with me, waiting for you to return. I don’t wish to bombard you. I know I’m asking you to make an impossible decision and-”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Yes?!” He repeats, rising from his position.

I laugh, “Yes! Yes, Caspian I will marry you!”

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the deck. “Oh, I love you so much, Y/N!” Above him, I lower my head and bring my lips to his.

Instantly in my heart, I can feel that my fate was always meant to be forever with Caspian in Narnia.

Masterlist

#narnia #narinia imagine #prince caspian #prince capsian x reader #lucy pevensie #edmund pevensie #imagine #fanfic #ben barnes

191 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Cake By The Ocean | frat!Chris Evans x reader

summary: fraboy au. college parties. beach shenanigans. blame @ballyhoobarnes

warnings: fingering, mention of oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, verryyy light dub con if you squint??

shitty moodboard provided by me c:

Chris was the worst thing about mixers, hands down.

Honestly, you hated everything about mixers. Your sisters were at their most annoying, magically transforming from educated, classy women into the most desperate of ‘pick me’ girls, clinging onto any Zeta guy they could get their hands on. What bothered you wasn’t that they flirted with the guys, it was that they dumbed themselves down to do so. That plus an overcrowded house, shitty drinks from plastic cups, and having to clean up everybody’s mess the next day, and you really just did not want to go to another co-ed event.

But Katie M. and Katie B., the sorority president and vice president respectively, decreed in their all-knowing power that every soror must attend five night-time events a year and you had procrastinated so hard that you had to attend every single one in May to avoid getting kicked out. The scholarships were too good to lose.

That didn’t mean you had to mingle, though; you were happy to hide in a secluded corner and look like you were doing something important. In this case, it was stacking and unstacking cups. Hopefully nobody watched you long enough to notice that you weren’t actually helping set up the drink table.

But of course, he had to show up. He had this instinct where he could sense you minding your own business and enjoying your life, and he just had to appear and annoy you.

“Hey,” Chris’ voice wafted to your ear from behind you. You felt his hand slip onto your waist loosely. That was all he had to say to you? ‘Hey’?

You ignored him, mainly because you had absolutely no idea what to say.

“Bein’ cold isn’t gonna keep me away,” he informed you, leaning in closer.

“Do you have any other suggestions then?” you frowned.

His mouth was so close to your ear now that you could smell the booze on his breath. “Been thinkin’ about you. I know you’ve been avoiding me. But it hasn’t made me forget.”

“Me either, sadly,” you groaned.

“I know you get wet when you think about it,” he purred. “I betcha think about it at night, remembering how good it felt to just let go--”

You spun around and pushed him back. “Chris, everybody makes mistakes. Like when the Nazis invaded Russia in the winter. Or when your mom decided to keep it after your dad put on the condom wrong. Or, worst of all, when we got drunk and had sex over half a year ago. It’s okay! Accidents happen. But it’s best to leave them--” you rested your hand on his shoulder, giving your best comforting-but-stern look-- “in the past.”

“The best mistakes are made at least twice,” Chris grinned. “How do you think I ended up with a little sister?”

In spite of your desperate attempt not to, you cracked a smile. At least he could take a joke.

“Go enjoy the party,” you suggested, “talk to any of the other girls-- I bet a lot of them will find your offer more appealing.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them,” he frowned, “I wanna talk to you. You’re interesting.”

“And they’re not?”

“I would never diss your sisters,” he raised his arms, “but you’re definitely my favorite Delta.”

“You have strange taste,” you shuddered.

“That I do,” he nodded wistfully, “that I do.”

You were cooped up in your room, surrounded by open text books and uncapped highlighters. A final on Monday meant you needed to prepare all weekend. You didn’t even look up when you heard a knock on your door; you just called out that it was open so they could come in.

“Good news!” Katie B. beamed as she popped her head around the door. “Zeta invited us to a beach party tomorrow!”

“Why do you think that’s good news for me?” you wondered, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“Uh, because away events count for two night-time events in your attendance calendar?”

Ehh, you didn’t need to study all weekend, right?

Hoping to get your boost on your attendance record but disinterested in actually participating in any meaningful way, you decided you were going to tan, mainly because it utilized two of your greatest talents: laying down, and doing nothing. After a hefty layer of sunscreen was applied to whatever your bikini didn’t cover, you settled in on the little rubbery chair with your over-sized sunglasses and some bluetooth earbuds to jam with.

The sun warmed your skin until you felt so relaxed that you honestly considered falling asleep. Thankfully your earbuds blocked out the sounds of Zeta-Delta partying down the beach, even when the volleyball game got a little rowdy.

Sadly, you were pulled from your relaxed state when a shadow blocked your sun, and you hesitantly opened your eyes behind the dark plastic of your shades. Squinting, you saw his tattoo first, and you knew it was Chris come to taunt you.

“You’re blockin’ my rays, Evans,” you frowned.

He spun the volleyball in his hands, smirking playfully. “I came over here to ask if you wanted to play. It’s shirts vs skins.”

“Let me guess, you always play skins?” you quipped, quickly scanning his muscled torso which was so cruelly exposed. Did he have to look so good? Did it have to remind you of the way those muscles flexed as he was thrusting--

“Unfortunately for me, I bet you always play shirts,” he chuckled, interrupting your train of thought just in time. “If no volleyball, how about a swim?”

You pulled out your other earbud and put them back in their case, realizing he wasn’t going away any time soon. “Chris, tell me, what is it that makes you think I want to be anywhere near you? Seriously, tell me, so I can stop doing it.”

“Sure, right now you’re acting pretty icy,” he explained, kneeling down in the sand beside your chair, “but I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me… when you got on your knees for me…”

You wanted to interrupt him but your throat was suddenly too dry, and your thighs were clenching together.

“When you begged me not to stop…” he continued, leaning closer, his hand grabbing your knee suddenly, slowly trailing up your thigh.

“Chris,” you whispered, just under your breath-- but it turned into a gasp when his arms wrapped around you and he picked you up. “Put me down!” you yelped.

“I think you need to cool off, babe,” he grinned. “A little water might do the trick, huh?”

Your screams of protest were lost to the wind as he started running, effortlessly carrying you to the water’s edge.

Soon, he was knee-deep and you were pulling yourself up into him as you tried to avoid the water. “I swear to god if you drop me,” you began.

“I won’t, okay?” he assured, slowly calming down as you let your legs hesitantly reach past the water’s surface. It was cold at first, but then it was relaxing against your heated skin.

As he set you down in the water, his arms naturally slid to your waist, and yours to his shoulders. And then you were looking up at him and it felt way too right.

“Um, the… the water feels great,” you mumbled.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a low, husky voice, “yeah, feels amazing.”

Those words in that voice brought back some specific memories.

He was so much taller than you that when you were doggy-paddling to stay afloat, he could still walk somewhat normally. But you didn’t expect him to walk behind you, or wrap his arms over your torso.

“Chris?” you gasped a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed, placing a soft kiss to your ear, then your neck, “you don’t want anyone to hear you. Then they might look over and realize what we’re doing.”

His hand moved lower, over your stomach and finally to the top of your bikini bottoms. You shivered, biting your lip as you tried to process everything that was happening.

“Tell me you want it,” he requested, his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I know you do but, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want it,” you whimpered, “please. Touch me.”

You felt his smile against your neck as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, instantly finding and teasing your clit. Your hips bucked a little, disturbing the water around you. He rubbed it so softly that you would’ve thought you wouldn’t be able to feel it at all, and yet somehow it was making your entire body jolt with pleasure.

“Calm down baby,” he chuckled, “don’t act strange or somebody will see. And we all know how much you want everyone to know that you want nothing to do with me.”

You whimpered a little, but realized that a small group of Deltas was about to walk by in the water.

“Act natural,” Chris instructed softly, knowing that the water would obscure what you were doing, but you’d forgotten what natural even meant.

“Hey guys,” Parvati smiled, and Gia waved at the two of you.

“Hello ladies,” Chris greeted back with a nod of acknowledgement; you sheepishly smiled and waved, trying to ignore the way Chris’ fingers were moving against you.

You figured they would question why you were sitting on Chris’ lap in the water, but they were oddly accepting of it. Maybe they were just wondering what took you two so long.

The second the girls were out of earshot, swimming further into the water, Chris started moving his fingers even faster.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he chuckled darkly, “getting fingered in front of your friends.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” you defended.

“I distinctly remember you begging for it,” he teased, quickly pulling you a little lower into the water so he could grope your breast. He reached under the triangle of your bikini to get a better feel of it, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moaned softly.

“Feels good?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “so good, fuck…”

You instinctively tried to push his hand away as your orgasm approached-- it was too much, too strong, and you weren’t sure you could take it. He’d learned to keep going anyways, otherwise you’d never get off. And damn if you didn’t secretly love the way that he was too strong to push away.

“Go ahead,” he purred, “let go. Come for me, babygirl.”

You bit down on your lip as the pleasure reached its peak and crashed, your body spasming as he held you close with his free arm. “Chris, I’m coming,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned, “keep going.”

With his fingers still rubbing firm and fast on your clit, you honestly thought you could scream. Instead, you grabbed his arm like your life depended on it, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Stop, stopstopstop,” you pleaded for mercy, and he granted it as his hand slipped from your bikini bottoms. “God, you wear me out,” you sighed with exhaustion.

“That’s the goal,” he smiled.

You moved your hips back only to feel the hard shape of his cock pressing into your thigh; you grinned.

“Well, I should probably leave you to your volleyballing,” you announced, standing up and starting to walk away.

“Wh-- I can’t play like this!” he protested, noticeably staying crouched in the water-- you knew that with what he was packing, he had no chance of hiding his boner in those tight swim trunks. Plus, when they were wet, they would probably cling to it so tight that little would be left to the imagination… why were you salivating all of a sudden?

“Just act natural!” you encouraged him as you continued to walk towards the shore.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines #chris evans x y/n #chris evans headcanons #chris evans rpf

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randombtsprincessa · 3 years

Text

Buoyed Up

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Genre: Fluffy Smut

Rating: Mature/Explicit (18+)

Summary: You take your boyfriend to soak up the sun on his birthday.

Playlist: Robokid - Ur Touch | Figgy - Do It Like Us | Tinashe - Days In The West (Drake Cover) (Ekali Remix)

Warnings: Yatching trip, Hoseok gets wet and shirtless, ogling, explicit smut, nipple/breast play, nipple biting, face sitting, unprotected sex (be safe folksies), hickies, profanity, dirty talk and dirty thoughts.

A/N: Happy birthday to my beautiful Sunboy! I would also like to thank @yeoldontknow for the nipple play inspiration and a special someone who shall not be named for the face sitting scene. I know you’re going to read this, don’t play.

You had never been this thankful for a correct weather forecast before.

The sky and sea stretched out seamlessly in front of you in a brilliant canvas of blue. The wind was crisp and fresh. The wooden slats of the dock platform squeaked in your ears and right in your line of sight was the magnificence you had booked for one of the most important events of the year.

The star of said event was behind you, clutching your hand stretched out between you, fingers entwined. The squeezes he trapped your hands in could be seen as a form of expressing his affection…or simply conveying how nervous he was right now.

Your eyes, protected by the darkened haze of the sunglass could spy the captain and owner of the Yacht boat, wrapping and tying cords at the entrance, feet following the direction when one final, tighter squeeze made you pause, turning to look askance at the man behind you.

Hoseok, the birthday boy, wore a silky white shirt, so long and baggy it almost completely hid his lithe frame, nearly kissing his knees. Beneath them, you could just spy his denim shorts, and beneath them…well, his knees shook a little and toes squiggled in his sandals.

“What?” You asked.

“I just…um, are you sure, it’s alright for us to…take a boat?” He queried.

You paused. “What?” You tried again.

“I mean, things could go wrong if we’re alone. Storms, leaks, shark attacks, whale attacks,” He listed and for a split second, you allowed amusement to color your tone.

“Whales, baby?” You teased and he grumbled.

You had to sigh. You knew your boyfriend was a bit…easily rattled. So when you’d announced your plans for his birthday and he’d whooped enthusiastically, you’d taken a minute to talk him through it. It was a yacht, a decently large and comfortable engine based boat which would take you across to a private section of the shallows where you would spend the day. You would drive, there would be food and drinks and a luxurious day of sunning.

He had been thoroughly stress relieved, with fried chicken and soda before agreeing to your plans.

Of course, you should’ve known that coming out here and seeing things for himself would bring his earlier fears back to the surface.

You tugged him closer to your body. “If you’re really worried, then we can go back. I’m sure I can get a bit of a refund if we ask nicely.”

Hoseok didn’t meet your eyes, looking over your head at the captain who had spotted you by now, getting to his feet expectantly. “Did you pay a lot?”

“Just the standard fee; but your comfort is more important.” You promised, soothing a hand across his bicep.

“I’m…I’m fine, I just…”

“I’ll be steering, we will only go to the shallows and come straight back tomorrow.” You reassured again.

His big brown eyes met yours now, triangle lips pouting in thought before he uttered one word. “Fine,”

The captain, a hand carding through his crew cut, grinned at you when you finally towed Hoseok over to him and his boat. “Good morning, ma’am, didn’t I tell you there’ll be good sun and wind the day you want her?”

You laughed. “Yes, captain, you sure did. This is the birthday boy, by the way; Hoseok, my boyfriend.”

“Pleasure,” He stretched out a hand to shake Hoseok’s, toothily beaming. “You got a fine vibe around you, sir.”

Hobi hesitated before managing a smile. “So, who’s the ‘her’ you were talking about?” he asked.

The Cap turned, placing a gentle hand along the gleaming body of the yacht. “The most precious thing I own, meet Ferret. Come on in”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Hoseok’s stunned expression as he moved in. “He calls it Ferret?” He muttered.

“It’s cute,” You returned, turning your attention to the man in question as he gave you a basic run down of the boat again. You’d already gotten the tutorial and studied the manuals thoroughly over the last month.

You moved over the large reception and living space, glancing through the stocked little kitchenette in the back. The bedroom and bathroom were below deck, and the sun bed and fore deck sparkled from the cleaning it had undergone.

“What do you think?” You asked.

Hoseok sat on the padded sofa in the living, looking around and considering. “It’s good, I like it.”

“That’s what I like to hear. So, if that’ll be all, ma’am; I’ll hop off board.” He walked off, untying the rope that held the Ferret to its spot. “You’ll be back by noon tomorrow, eh?”

“Absolutely,” You shook his hand again, watching him cast a look over the vessel once more.

When he walked off, disappearing around the corner of the wooden walkway, you turned around to see your boyfriend smiling lightly at you.

“What?” You said, returning the smile.

“Nothing, just…” His teeth peeked out. “I’m happy I get to spend the day with you. I hope the guys don’t miss me too much.”

“They can have you tomorrow.” You reached out to pull him to his feet, planting a smacking kiss on his upturned lips. “Today you’re mine. Now come up, let’s take Ferret for a ride.”

Hoseok and you climbed up on to the ‘cockpit’ of the Ferret, set up high on the deck and over the galley for visibility and navigation.

“You’re sure you know how to do this, right? Don’t make me have to sail us back tomorrow.” He joked, climbing on to the day bed next to the steering console table as you sat in the chair.

“I might just throw you overboard on your birthday.” You warned absentmindedly.

You slid in the master key first, turning it and pressing the toggle switches on. The LED display lit up, welcoming the captain and panels of instruction and controls came up.

“Where are we going?” Hoseok asked again, curiously, watching you fiddle with the steering, the autopilot and infra red view to go over anything that may come up under the boat. He wasn’t too enthused with the idea but safety was key if he wanted to come back to shore with you.

“We’ll head over to the shallows; find a quiet spot to spend the day. Tomorrow we sail back.” You explained before the purr of the engine carried over the winds.

He watched you turn the small wheel on the control, carefully maneuvering out and away from the docks. The other boats and water vessels slowly decreased in size with the distance gained and again Hoseok internally expressed some gratitude to the heavens that his birthday came up on a relatively less busy day. It was not too cold to take far off vacations but it was still too cold to take one as this.

“Kick back, we have some time before we get there.” You said and he did just that.

Dropping his head back, he tossed his arms up behind to cradle his skull. The sun basked platform warmed his back, which his face heated up with the sun overhead. Soon it would be hot enough to actually warrant a dip in the seas.

He turned his head to look at his girlfriend, hair tied up and off the face, back ramrod straight even though there was nothing in the vicinity to even remotely pose a threat. She was wearing his chain, he noticed. The idea bloomed adoration in his chest, expanding and breathing air into his veins.

The engine had moved from a kitten’s purr to a loud roar, kicking up sea spray that misted around the vessel, cool and smooth as it hit the exposed parts of his skin. He undid the small scarf he had looped into his belt loop to wrap around his hair. He doubted it would do much, but he didn’t want to risk the salt water messing with the dye that was still settling into his scalp.

By the time they reached the shallows, it was reaching midday. You had cut the engine when you reached the shallows, steering till you were close to one of the small out crop of beach land that attracted the tourists. He could spy only one family, farther away into the distance but thankfully, they were too far to make their presence known obviously.

The autopilot engaged just in case, both of you migrated down to the galley, with you digging out a bottle of chilled champagne from the kitchenette. The bubbly popped loudly, with Hoseok cringing at the volume before the rich, crisp alcohol was poured into a stem less flute, kept to the minimum because his tolerance of alcohol was laughably low and well known.

He shuddered to imagine flushing crimson and losing touch with reality this early into the day.

The first hour was given to simply sitting in the shaded part of the deck, nursing the alcohol and catching up on the activities that were missed out on due to the hectic schedules of your lives.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his frame as he lounged back, feet up on the table, hair fluffing with the passing breeze. The heat, contrasting with the coolness of the sea air and the champagne was enough to lull you into the sleepy state, his soft hums echoing in your ear.

“Hey,” He said finally, his voice teasing. “Don’t’ fall asleep on me now.”

You smiled, sitting up against him. “Sorry, you just feel so peaceful.”

Hoseok kissed you softly before his eyes flickered to the expanse of water behind you. “Take a swim with me?”

Hoseok had been right. The sun had warmed the air enough for the water to be tolerable. Salty, cool and soothing, he plunged into the not too deep waters, his girlfriend laughing as she tossed one of the yacht’s floats in after him.

His head popped up just as you sat down at the edge of the boat, your feet kicking up water towards him.

“Aren’t you going to join?” He called.

“Nah, I want to watch you enjoy.” Your smirk made it clear you were enjoying the view indeed, fingers playing with the fabric of his discarded shirt.

Hoseok smirked right back, swimming closer so he could grab onto a wayward ankle. “Are you planning some mischief, darling?” He asked.

Your face turned impish. “Of course not,” You returned.

“Too bad, because I am.”

A hand smacked hard at the water, cupping and sending a wave of water straight at your face. He backed up quickly, laughing wildly at the stunned look on your face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you!” You screeched, slipping off the deck straight into the water, uncaring of the water soaking through your clothes as you chased after Hoseok.

You spent about an hour in the water, splashing at each other and trying to swim around the other to escape the constant barrages of water. Even as the sun began to dip westwards, the temperature dropped, the cool water chilling against your skin.

Hoseok made you clamber up first, following quickly as you allowed the sea water to drain away first before entering the living space of the yacht.

The evening sun slanted down the slatted windows, illuminating the bags of clothes you’d stocked for the trip two days ago, when you were checking over the yacht one last time. A duffel bag, stuffed with both of your underwear, two extra tops and a change of pants.

Hobi moved to his clothes quickly as you flung them out onto the bed, quickly shucking off the shorts he wore, revealing his boxer briefs, the band hanging just at his pelvis. He grabbed one of the towels from the warming racks, hastily rubbing at his torso even as your actions slowed and then stopped completely, staring at your boyfriend’s visage in the mirror.

Thinly muscled arms moved quickly but precisely, catching any stray drops of water that gathered on his skin and you had to bite your lip, shaking yourself to snap out of it. You still had a cake to cut, damn it.

“What?”

You started, catching Hoseok’s gaze that had now found yours in the mirror. “What are you looking at?” He asked, looking down at himself to see if it was something stuck to his chest that had garnered your attention.

You smiled, handing him the hoodie from the bed, which he quickly zipped over his body, the zipper only reaching midway and leaving his clavicle available to your fervent gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You shrugged. “I just like seeing you shirtless. Never going to get over it,”

Hoseok stopped fluffing his hair, his mouth falling open first in shock at your blatant admission before he was snorting in laughter, body caving from his mirth. It had always been an endearing sight for you. The way his hair turned to floof, his lips and cheeks trembling to contain his chortles and the strain of his body - not from anything stressful though, but pure laughter.

He was beautiful and while it softened your heart for the man across from you, it did nothing to slake your lust.

If anything, it increased your desire to lay him down on the bed and ride him till he was a panting and moaning mess under you, your name on his tongue as he spilled in you.

You cleared your throat, looking away from the mirror and the real thing, down to your fresh clothes.

Cake…you had cake to cut…and dinner to eat.

And even though your body screamed to jump him right then and there, you were a self disciplined woman. You could last.

“Babe, do you mind waiting outside for a bit while I change?”

“Of course,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing the towel to drape around his neck as he exited the room, clicking the door shut after him.

Only then did you relax, peeling your own wet clothes off to change into the dry ones.

Fifty minutes later, Hoseok and you sat on the small dinner table that folded up from one of the couches. Hobi set the table while you cooked in the small kitchen attachment, all of Hoseok’s favorite food and snacks making their way on to the table. Kimchi fried rice steamed, sending tendrils of white mist up which curled around your man as he inhaled the aroma, a glass of Sprite bubbling at his hand.

You had decked out the room with soft fairy lights, too paranoid to risk candles, even though you were out into the water.

“This smells so good, did you add anything extra?”

“Just a lot of love,” You winked, already having promised to not reveal that fact that his mom had given you most of the secret keys to Hoseok’s heart…via his stomach. Fried sesame seeds in a little soy sauce underlying the taste of Kimchi…and here you were.

You swirled a finger around the glass of wine at the counter, waiting for him to dig in and take the first bite, moaning almost immediately as the rice hit his taste buds. “God, I swear my mom cooked this.” he shot you a suspicious look before deciding to let it go.

You grinned, reaching into the small under the counter fridge to pull out the cake.

You had bought, decorated and candled it at least ten days ago, making your best friend hide it in her fridge first before bringing it here. The glass top of the container was lifted carefully, lighting the candles quickly.

Making sure he was still eating, you quickly reached back and turned off the lights, plunging the room in near darkness. Another switch flicked on the fairy lights and the room was then lit up in a beautiful array of orange and pink, revealing Hobi’s surprised face as he looked up with a squawk of protest.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a little high pitched.

You didn’t answer, only picking up the cake and carrying it to the table. Hobi’s expression melted in an O, eyes sparkling at the army bomb candles you’d found. The small picture of you two on the standee, taken on your last anniversary, mirrored his smile.

“I hope you like it.” You mumbled. “I got cherry and strawberry cream filling inside.”

“This is amazing baby, thank you.” He whispered, leaning forward towards the cake.

You folded your arms on the table, “Go on; make a wish.”

Hoseok’s face sobered. He glanced up at you before closing his eyes, a second later blowing out the candles in a quick puff, the only source of light now the twinkling tiny beads that littered the ceiling and walls. His eyes opened, meeting yours with something like awe in his gaze.

“Happy Birthday baby,” You said lightly.

“Babe, you really pulled out all the stops this time.” He whispered.

I laughed, shrugging non-committal. “You’re my boyfriend, and it’s your birthday. I just wanted you to have a nice time.”

“I am.”

“I may have also made a bet with the guys about who you’re going to enjoy spending more time with.”

There was silence in which Hoseok sighed, shaking his head at yours and his friends’ antics but then you were straightening up. “So, what did you wish for?”

“You know, revealing a wish makes it moot.” He pointed out with a smile before grabbing your hand. “But I don’t need to wish for anything more because I have everything I could want right here.” He raised your hand to place a kiss to your knuckles.

You gave him a look. “You wished for a Grammy, didn’t you?”

Hoseok burst out laughing for the second time that evening, thumb caressing the back of your hand. He gave you a coy smile. “You know, I’m having a very nice time right now.”

You nodded.

“But I could be having a nicer time…how about dessert?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You have a whole cake in front of you.”

“Babe!” He whined even as you giggled, leaning over to kiss his nose.

“Well, lucky for you I was thinking the same thing.”

Hoseok beamed, meeting your lips halfway in a soft kiss. His hair tickled your forehead, fingers brushing over the shell of your ears to delve into your hair. He scratched the soft skin of your scalp, a tiny trigger for you. It made you moan, keen further into his body. Somehow he managed to stand you up, guiding you back towards the yacht bedroom with giddy giggles left in your wake.

Once inside, Hoseok pulled you tighter against him, mouthy sounds and soft pants filling the room along with the gentle lapping of the waves outside and noises one can hear at night out in nature. It made the experience feel closer, more intimate as his hands ran over your skin, mapping out roads he’d explored time and again.

The first thing you did when you managed to pull your hands from around his neck was unzip the hoodie, taking your time to trail your fingertips lightly down the now exposed span of skin. Smooth, soft and supple, you couldn’t help but marvel at him being yours.

Hobi gathered your hair away from your neck, his mouth tracing from the edge of your jaw, nuzzling and nipping towards your neck. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, hitching it up till he was pulling it up off you, tossing it to join his hoodie on the floor.

“Fuck,” he whispered at the sight of your naked chest, having forgone a bra.

Nudging his knee to yours, he backed you into the bed. You sat down with a thump, the mattress bouncing with your fall and started crawling back, Hoseok stalking after you on his hands and knees.

When you were finally propped on the pillows as to his liking, he dipped to kiss down your body again, encasing a sensitive, peaked nipple in his hot mouth, laving it over with saliva. Your head tilted back, back arching into his mouth until his other hand wrapped around the other, kneading it in rhythm with his tongue, essentially pushing you down to the bed.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you cried when he playfully bit into the nub, blunt teeth testing the waters between pain and pleasure. You glanced down to see him look up at you, pulling his lips back to show you the sight and you had to wrap a leg around his waist to tether you to earth. Swollen and dark with the attention, your chest stood out, resting in his hot mouth as he continued to swirl his tongue around it.

When he saw your attention was on him, he lowered his teeth again, pressure increasing steadily until you whined and he let go, pulling away to blow cool air onto the skin.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, pressing further in to make friends with the heat that settled in your thorax. It pulsated and thrummed in your blood, the very line he had made you just walk, mocking you.

The return of Hoseok’s hand, cupping your other mound, fingers gentle but insistently pulling at the other nipple made you look at him again.

“Good?” he asked.

You smiled nodding; your hand joining his to brush your own nipple before you followed the length of his arm, touching his chest, dragging over the sternum to where his happy trail disappeared into his pants.

He leaned in over you, kissing you again, slower, more intense, enough for you to chase after his tongue to suck on. You threw your arm around his neck, holding him to you as tight as you could as if his kissed poured life-breath into your soul.

“Easy baby,” he chuckled in your ear. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He placed a kiss under your jaw and added a pinch to the nipple he was playing with for added measure.

He moved further down the bed, tugging on your hand to sit you up.

“Come on, I want my dessert.” He winked at you mischievously, throwing his body down to the bed to comfortable lie down, grinning up at you. “Get on here.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I mean, it’s your birthday, don’t you -,”

“Shh, it’s my birthday and I know what I want. That’s you; grinding that pretty pussy into my mouth, till you come on my tongue. You can suck me off all you want when it’s your day.”

You gasped, smacking at his shoulder till you were getting onto your knees, crawling over to him and swinging a leg across him. His hands immediately clamped onto the tops of your thighs, squeezing in reassurance.

This wasn’t the first time you were doing this, Hoseok being insistent on your pleasure before him or sometimes only yours, allowed for ‘experiments’ that would enable him to find clues and notes to your body that he blatantly exploited to make you putty in his hands.

A dash of compliments, a pinch of soft kisses, grips of comfort and maybe a good meal if you’ve had a long day revealed to be the key to get you to ride his face. And today, to your dawning realization, he’d played you just as you had attempted to play him.

Damn his brains…

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, much closer to your core now before he was helping you lower yourself to his mouth.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips rove in a circle over the most sensitive part of your inner thigh, just at the apex where he loved to hover. He nibbled the skin, teasing it with his tongue and teeth before a hand was smoothing over your rear, warning you of the coming onslaught.

You leaned back to watch the sight. Hoseok’s dark hair upon the bed, his glimmering forehead with a few stray strands matted to the skin and then those eyes.

Eyes that shimmered with greedy lust, mirroring yours and overwhelming in the way they channeled your wants through them. If there was anyone who was truly able to give you a peek into their soul by their eyes; it was Hoseok.

And you, oh so, loved it…

The first deep, hard swish of his tongue along your slit had your moan catching in your throat, coming out broken and whiny. There was no time to get acclimated to the sensation of the barest hint of stubble against your soft skin as he moved his tongue again, back and forth, collecting your arousal and massaging it back into your folds.

You chanced a look downwards, seeing Hoseok’s eyes closed too, eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration. His nose was buried inside you and you could feel his breath waft against you.

“Fuck Hobi,” You finally breathed out, not even out of pleasure but the sheer picture he painted with the way he looked. You could write odes but none would ever match his glory.

He pulled away from your core, grinning up at you.

“I like it when you say that.” He told you, index finger resuming the path of his tongue, circling on your clit. He looked down at it. “I like it when this pussy quivers.” He slipped the digit inside and you swore he had hit the spot at first try.

You wouldn’t be surprised, he had had enough practice.

“Yeah?” You asked, sounding lame.

“Oh definitely,” he hummed. “But you know what I like even more?”

You looked at him puzzled, eyes widening when he smacked your ass lightly, jolting you against his finger. “I like when you actually ride my face.”

You stared.

“What are you waiting for?”

You kept your eyes on him before slowly anchoring your hands back on his chest. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed, his tongue poking out and then you hesitantly rolled your hips, the pearl of your clit catching the ridge of his tongue.

“Good,” He nodded as best as he could from under you. “Now; do it like you mean it; use me, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the small burning ember in your pelvic floor before grinding down insistently; feeling the bare hint of tongue increase till it was basically a landing pad for you. Your nerve ending sizzled with each contact, Hobi’s hands moving and tracing patterns into your hips to keep you going until you were giving him exactly what he wanted, coming over his tongue.

The digit in your cunt doubled, the soft muscle digging into your core to lap up any wetness he could find but all it did was add to the mess until you couldn’t stand the friction. You writhed away from him, rolling onto the bed haphazardly, Hoseok following. He gripped onto your wrists, pulling you closer to coo over you, praising you for the job well done.

You were his good girl, he was going to fuck you real slow and nice for this; you felt rather than hear his whispers, muffled even though they were against your shoulder.

Hoseok collected you in his arms, winding and tight to your back.

“Can you lift your leg, baby?”

You did as he asked, with Hoseok helping you prop the leg until it lay over his upper arm. The stretch burned, but you knew he was walking the line between pain-pleasure again.

When you felt him enter you, slow but steady, filling you to the brim in one practiced slide, your eyes met his – gazes locked with unsaid words that didn’t need to be voiced out loud.

It was there in your touches, in your kisses, in the way you looked at each other.

He thrust, hips canting into yours and your head fell back, knowing he was going to take care of both him and you this time around. His pace remained calm, the only indicators of his unraveling being the grunts echoing in your ears and the way his lips and kisses became teeth and bites; littering the skin of your neck and shoulders with the mark of his desire for you.

His hands had moved from your back to your ass, gripping the soft flesh to fuck into you, rolling his hips until your sweat slicked bodies moved as one, plunged into a blissful orgasm that painted your body with splashes of his overflowing pleasure.

Hoseok cursed, grabbing onto his length to drive further into you, cock twitching and emptying the last of its essence into your cove.

“Holy shit,” You were the first to speak.

“Yeah,” Your loved raised his head, eyebrows quirked. “No shit,”

You both broke into giggles before he was gently pulling out, tutting at the mess that was probably on the bed. “I sure hope the captain of Ferret has fresh sheets on board.”

You raised a lazy hand, pointing towards the cupboard where you were told extra linens would be. Hoseok got up, golden and naked for your viewing pleasure before a particular notion had you grabbing at his hand, making him turn to you.

“You enjoyed your birthday with me more than you will with the guys’ right?”

“Oh baby,” He laughed, kissing your nose. “They can’t hope to give me the kind of celebration you just did.”

#bts jhope #jhope x reader #bts #ficswithluv #btsguild #bangtansorciere #btswriterscollective #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #jhope #jung hoseok #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic

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backwardscapsmh · 3 years

Text

day 3 of @omgcpanniversaryweek: relationship

because obviously we love them, have some cute olliewicks being in love and cute and shit! as always, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated! 🥰

should this be the last thing i see // i want you to know it's enough for me // ‘cause all that you are is all that i'll ever need // i’m so in love // so in love

-tenerife sea by ed sheeran

It’s loud. It’s dark. Music is blasting from a room away but Ollie can still feel the bass in his bones. The first Kegster of his senior year moves around him. He feels drunk, but not enough to be blackout drunk. Although, tub juice is deceptively toxic so he could be closer to blackout than he thinks. He feels like he’s in the middle of a large storm, the party-goers swirling around him.

A warm hand on the back of his neck startles him out of the Kegster haze. His eyes snap to the person and is met with Wicks’s dark eyes looking at him. He looks sufficiently drunk, a little dazed, and definitely lacking his usual filter.

“Hello,” he slurs, leaning closer. The dark brown of his eyes looks almost black in the dark. His behavior makes sense; tub juice makes Wicks really handsy.

“Hi sweetheart,” Ollie replies, bringing his own hand up to rest on Wicks’s shoulder.

“You look hot.”

Ollie laughs before replying with a “thank you.”

“But you always look hot. I’m definitely drunk,” Wicks continues, his hand stroking up and down, tangling in the hair at the back of Ollie’s head.

All he remembers after that is Wicks’s hand moving higher, while the other curls around his waist and pulls him into a kiss.

When Ollie cracks his eyes open, the sun is shining through the blinds they definitely forgot to close last night. His head is throbbing and he feels a body pressed up against his back. Based on the slight snoring and the arm thrown over his torso, it’s definitely Wicks.

He rolls over, slowly as to not wake his boyfriend. He feels warm, despite their lack of usual blankets. The two that they usually use have been kicked to the edge of the bed. At least their drunk selves remembered to change into pajamas because as good as Ollie’s ass looks in his Kegster shorts, they are not comfortable to sleep in. He might be wearing a pair of Wicky’s basketball shorts, but at this point, their closets have just merged into one.

Almost as if his thoughts summoned him, Wicky shuffles a bit before tiredly blinking his eyes open. His hair is unbelievably messy—sticking up in places and lying flat in others—presumably from sleep and Ollie running his hands through it.

“What time is it?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

“Too early,” Ollie replies, nuzzling his face in Wicky’s neck.

“Then why are you awake?”

“The sun’s a dick.”

Wicks hums in agreement, wrapping himself tighter around Ollie’s frame. It kind of feels like the octopuses that Tango talks about sometimes, but it’s also comforting. Kind of like a pile of warm laundry laying on top of him. Except this pile of laundry is adorably cute and is great at hockey.

And every morning like this is comforting when it’s with Wicky. He’s warm and soft and sleepy. He cuddles close and plants kisses on Ollie’s cheeks. He’s tactile and clingy. It’s honestly heaven. Ollie wants this for as long as he’ll have it, preferably forever, because it doesn’t look like he’ll have to go without it for a while.

And his mushy feelings must show on his face because Wicks leans down and plants a light kiss on his cheek.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he murmurs.

“About how I want mornings like this with you forever,” Ollie replies, bringing a hand up and cradling Wicky’s face.

God. If the world ended right now, he would be content with seeing Wicky like this right before.

His eyes are bright, despite the hangover. His hair is soft and mussed. He’s relaxed and open with his feelings, staring at Ollie with a lovesick look that he can only assume is reflected in his own eyes.

“Marry me then,” Wicks says, carding a hand through Ollie’s own messy hair.

“What?” he breathes out, voice barely a whisper.

It’s not that he hasn’t thought about marrying Wicky. Or moving into their own house, washing dishes together after they actually cooked dinner like the responsible adults they are. But that seemed to be years away, a distant future. It didn’t seem like a possibility right now.

“Are you serious?” he asks, voice hoarse. He feels jittery, electricity buzzing through him, but Wicks’s gaze remains the same adoring, mushy look.

“Of course I’m serious Ollie. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.”

Wicks is serious. He wants to marry Ollie. He wants this. And just like that, the jitters turn into bubbles. He feels his face break into a smile, and he starts laughing.

“Then yeah, I’ll marry you Pacer.”

“Oh thank god. That would’ve been real awkward if you said no,” Wicky’s laughing too. His smile is honestly blinding, and Ollie thinks he may fall in love all over again.

Wicks leans in to kiss him, but they’re both smiling too much for it to really count as a kiss, but it’s the thought that counts. Still, it might be one of Ollie’s favorite kisses of theirs. Just him and Wicky and no other places to be. Just them, together, limbs tangled. It’s perfect.

Yeah, he’s got all that he needs right here.

#i love my background boys #so ya know i gotta write abt them #i said a while back i would write something with them and the song tenerife sea #and i saved it for anniversary week!#finally...a non angst post #olliewicks #ollie and wicks #ollie #wicks #my writing #anniversary week #omgcpanniversaryweek #omgcp anniversary week

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butgilinsky · 3 years

Text

prompt list!

a/n; i wanted to make a prompt list of some of the lyrics that inspire me/give me ideas that i don't necessarily want to mold into an entire fic. send in all of your requests w your fav himbo from the players i write for! if you can think of a lyric that i haven't listed that you rly want to see in blurb form, you can req those too and i'll do my best to do it justice. i'll get to every request as fast as i can but depending on how many there are it may take a while so bear w me(:

Angst

Didn't wanna scare you, just wanted to be near you. Wanted you to hear what's in my head - Ruel (too many feelings)

What's the point in dressing up to be let down? - Alexander 23 (Cry Over Boys)

Aren't you tired of getting hurt? Aren't you sick of, of making it worse? - Alexander 23 (Cry Over Boys)

You're acting like we never changed and finally I can sleep at night, makes you wanna lose your mind - Tate McRae (r u ok)

I hope he treats you better than I ever could, 'cause you deserve the world times two and our simple sunday afternoons. - Clinton Kane (CHICKEN TENDIES)

I know it's lame but this is how I'm coping without you - Rosie Darling (Coping)

If this is the last time please come close. I love you with all my heart, you know. - LANY (If This Is the Last Time)

I would've walked through hell to find another way. - Anson Seabra (Walked Through Hell)

Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had, but I don't really care how bad it hurts when you broke me first. - Tate McRae (you broke me first)

Today I drove through the suburbs and pictured I was driving home to you. - Olivia Rodrigo (driver’s license)

But don't break your back for me. I'll put you out of your misery. - Post Malone (Stay)

You say that I won't lose you, but you can't predict the future. - Justin Bieber (Anyone)

I dont really give a damn about the way you touch me when we’re alone - Ricky Montgomery (Line Without A Hook)

Never make him love me - Frank Ocean (Bad Religion)

You never told me being rich was so lonely...hard to complain from his five star hotel - Mac Miller (Small Worlds)

Running from love, wish you were here - SZA (20 Something)

All these street lights, glowing, happen to be just like moments passing right in front of me - Daniel Caesar (Streetcar)

'Til fate brings you home I'll wait through your phases - PRETTYMUCH (Phases)

When I call in the morning without any warning I'll say all the things that I should've said - The Vamps (Waves)

I will give you all of me - Sam Smith (Leave Your Lover)

Fluff

You wear white and I'll wear out the words I love you and you're beautiful. - Train (Marry Me)

Liquor was the only love I've known but you rescued me from reaching' for the bottom - Chris Stapleton (Tennessee Whiskey)

When I find my peace of mind I'm gonna give ya some of my good time - Red Hot Chili Peppers (Soul to Squeeze)

If I could find you now things would get better We could leave this town and run forever - Yellowcard (Ocean Avenue)

At times like this I wish I could have shut the door on you - Peach Tree Rascals (Violet)

I’ve never felt like this with you before - Collin Selman (dayDREAM)

The scars all on your body don't change the way I see you - Louie Duffelbags (Fucking For a Reason)

I'ma tell you something' you need to know before you make another move - K. Roosevelt (Feelings Don’t Change)

From the moment you walked in I knew right then you'd ruin me for anyone new - New Rules (Happy Ever After You)

I'd go spinnin' 'round the Sun with you again and again and again and again - Olivia Rodrigo (I Think I Kinda, You Know)

And I'm not scared to say those words - James Arthur (Falling Like The Stars)

Runnin' to the altar like a track star, can't wait another second - Justin Bieber (Holy)

I fell in love with a beautiful boy and you still take my breath away - Alex & Sierra (I Love You)

This feels like falling in love - Ed Sheeran (Kiss Me)

You're more than everything I need - Hunter Hayes (Wanted)

(i'm tagging everyone that's filled out my nhl taglist); @extratragic @babytkachuks @heybarzy @teenagekook @stfukie @smit41 @kiedhara @sadcupofcoffee @sidscrosbyy @rebel-without-care @golfergirl810 @baby-cat-nol-pat @c-hartsy @creator-appreciator @storiesbymads @aasimarr @bucky-ish @runninglownad @immmbabyyygraceee @neenaw-neenaw @shawnsreputation @pierreslucdubois @yungbeezy @tortito @dmonchld @beauvibaby @honeybearbarzal @oilers2997 @petey-patty @alphalib22 @cowboysarecool @nhlindblom

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kitchen-witch-bitch · 3 years

Note

6. Let’s make a deal shall we? With Reddie?

EEEE THANK YOU BBY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! If not you can beat my ass Friday XD

“Let’s make a deal, shall we?”

The statement comes unprompted from Richie’s lazy form in the hammock, shouted across the clubhouse in a poor imitation of a Bond villain Eddie is too tired to keep up with.

Eddie peeks over his comic book from Bill’s old spot; their friend, the last one of the Losers to leave besides Mike, had moved for college a few weeks prior, and Eddie and Richie honestly weren’t far behind. Richie was due to leave for California any day now, and Eddie...Eddie was headed to New York. Tomorrow. With his girlfriend (re: babysitter, as Richie had called her on more than one occasion) that he may or may not be hiding from in an effort to spend a few more hours with Richie.

Just a few more hours.

As Eddie’s stomach churns at the thought, he realizes he hasn’t given his friend an answer. He may have pulled out a voice, but it was a statement that Eddie was supposed to respond to, based on the way the raven-haired boy pushed up so he could look at Eddie and fiddle with his glasses.

Eddie turns a page without having really read the first one, his fingers just needing something to do besides stain the pages with sweat from their sitting in one place too long. “What kind of deal?”

“One of those marriage deals.” Eddie chokes, and Richie is quick to correct himself. “I mean! Wait! No! We don’t have to get married!” Richie really sits up now; he does it so fast the hammock angrily drops him to an unforgiving dirt floor. “I’m not, like, gay or anything--” he’s spitting out dirt as he tries to talk, and for some reason, Eddie can’t move from his spot to check on him.

Eddie grips the comic book so tightly he feels one of the pages tear a bit. He doesn’t care. “Yeah. uh. Not gay. I know you’re not gay. I’m not gay either.”

The statements hang in the air while Richie situates himself on a sturdier chair, neither of them really even breathing for fear of disturbing the bubble they’ve created here. The lies taste like dirt on Eddie’s tongue and he just barely catches himself in time to not retch. He figures the way his throat and eyes twitch and the blood that is pooling in his cheeks may have given him away or, at least, alerted Richie to the fact that he was uncomfortable. Neither one calls the other out.

Richie clears his throat. “I guess, uh, what I meant was--God, I sound like Bill--what I meant was we could, you know, live together. You know. If I’m not married and you’re not married by the time we’re 35, we could buy a house wherever we want and be bachelors forever.”

“I can’t stand you, how the fuck could I live with you?”

“You can too stand me,” Richie insists, but there’s a look behind his eyes that Eddie knows means he’s been hurt. “You would have gone and hidden from Myra at Mike’s farm instead of hiding here with me if you couldn’t stand me.”

Eddie pulls his bottom lip into his mouth; Richie has a point. He doesn’t know how right he is. Eddie would give anything to be going to California with Richie instead of to New York with Myra. He doesn’t have anything to retort. “Richie, I...I’m getting married. Right after college.”

“Things can change,” Richie’s voice has taken on a definite edge, but Eddie hears the hitch in his breath. It’s enough to make Eddie hide his face behind his comic to hide his own red eyes.

“I don’t know, Rich. I...mom already had me give her the ring.”

Richie is uncharacteristically silent before storming to the ladder, quickly scaling it. “Well, offer’s on the table. We all know that’s not gonna last.”

Eddie breathes out a quiet “Deal,” although he’s not sure Richie heard. He swears he sees Richie’s foot waver on the top rung when Eddie speaks, but when Richie keeps going, Eddie is afraid he didn’t hear him.

He doesn’t call Richie and apologize like he feels like he should.

*~*~*

It's 23 years before Eddie sees Richie again, 27 years after their first encounter with the clown that has killed so many, including sweet Stan, and took their memories of one another piece by piece. Everything was so murky when he got back to Derry at first, but now it's all clear as a bell, now that he's lying in a hospital bed, actually struggling to breathe for the first time in his life.

He's not alone, though. It's not so scary. Richie and Beverly are holding his hands; Ben is rubbing at his feet because not only are his hands good for building delicate things, they're good at reflexology, too; Bill is settled on the bed with a hand on part of his chest that isn't torn, trying to be a steady force against which Eddie can start to regulate his breathing; Mike is stroking his hair from somewhere above.

In all of it, he lets out a choked laugh. If he dies, he's not alone.

He passes out shortly after staring Richie in the eyes, remembering their last encounter as teenagers. The way Richie ran away from him, and how this entire time he’d been home, Richie kept running back to him, protecting him just like he had all those years before.

Richie's the only one in the room when Eddie wakes up for real, eyes fluttering open and then snapping shut against the startling sun, intruding through the windows. He's got a killer migraine, but he can breathe.

Fuck, he can breathe.

His chest doesn't hurt.

He lets one hand move across where there should be a gaping hole, but there's nothing.

He feels someone sit on the bed next to him and gently take his hand. He recognizes those hands as Richie's, but he can't open his eyes. Even though he wants to look at Richie all the time, his head hurts too badly.

"What happened?" Eddie slurred.

"We don't know." It is a quiet admission, and Richie starts stroking his thumb across the back of Eddie’s hand. "They had you in surgery and...you just started closing up? Everything's working perfectly, the doctors say you can go home soon." One knuckle strokes at Eddie's cheek. "You gotta open those doe eyes, though."

Eddie keeps them closed. "I don't wanna go home."

They're both quiet for a long moment, and Richie pulls his hand back down to where his other one is holding Eddie’s. "No?"

"No." Eddie shifts a little, moving his head from where the window is so that he can just barely squint. Nope. Still hurts. He shuts them tight again. "Where is everybody?"

"They had to go get everything packed up at the Inn, but they'll be back soon, Eds."

Eddie hums and tries to nod. Good. That gives them time to talk. "We had a deal."

Richie chuckles lowly; it's self-deprecating, a tone Eddie doesn't like him using. It's the only voice of Richie's he actually hates, just because it breaks his heart. "Yeah, that only works if you agreed to it and held up your end of the bargain, baby."

"I did agree to it," Eddie insisted, voice strained. He needs water, but he needs to finish this conversation more. "I don't wanna go home to Myra. I wanna find a new home with you."

There's a long pause, and Richie is frozen in place. "Bachelor life calling your name, hm?"

"No," Eddie insists. "I don't want that either."

Richie is still and quiet long enough for Eddie to almost open his eyes, fuck the pain, but right as he's doing so, Richie's lips are pressed against his own. His fingers keep Eddie’s chin tilted toward him as they kiss, soft and sweet and hesitant. Eddie melts, tears from the stress of this whole situation and sadness of a lifetime lost with his best friend hitting him hard while Richie coos at him.

"Deal," Richie says softly, moving to kiss at Eddie's cheeks, his temples. "We'll find a new home, Eds, I promise. You don't gotta cry. You're okay. You're gonna walk out of here and we're gonna go home, baby. We're gonna spend as much time as we can with our friends, too, because life is too fuckin' short."

Eddie lets out a little snort--when did Richie get so good with words?--and nods, finally able to flutter his eyes open all the way and smile at his friend, who looks just as tired and sick as Eddie feels.

"Close the blinds and lay down with me, Trashmouth," he insists, moving to make room.

"Deal."

If the other Losers come back to find them curled up together, Richie's face buried in Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s face finally blissful, they don't tease.

They knew well enough.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #thank you krysta!!!!!!#krysta #I love you thank you for enabling this #it #My writing

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eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

EVER SINCE NEW YORK IV | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic. Cover by @timey-wimey-lovi!

PART 4! Read Part 3 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Let Me Know - Clear Eyes.

Friends - Ed Sheeran.

Perfect Places - Lorde.

Word Count: 4,551.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Junior Year.

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City.

“We’re going out tonight,” Claire said, plopping down on your bed.

“Oh? We are?” You replied, a notebook in your lap, and your back resting against the pillows.

“Yes. There is a welcome back party on campus tonight and we’re going.”

“I don’t feel like partying,” you sighed. “We just moved back in. There’s still so much left to do, to unpack.”

“Guess what? It’ll be here when we get back. And we’ll have all of tomorrow to decorate. But right now, we’re juniors, we’re thriving, and we’re gonna party!” She did a little dance, her red hair bouncing on her head.

You giggled, “Fine. Only until midnight! Then, we’re coming right back.”

“Geez, grandma? Midnight? Make it one!”

“Fine, one-thirty.”

“I’ll take it,” she smiled. She hopped out of bed, and turned on her heels, finger guns pointing at you. “Wear that red tube top. Step all the way out, kid. I mean it!”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

You wore the top. It looked good. Abnormally good. Insanely good. It hugged your body, and accented your breasts, little ruffles handing on the hem. You paired it with a loose pair of jeans, leather boots, and sparkly jewelry. Your hair was pulled out of your face and you applied light makeup.

“Yes, ma’am!” Claire cheered when she saw you. “For someone who didn’t wanna party, you sure snapped.”

“Hush,” you blushed. “I just wanna be prepared, y’know, in case we take pictures or run into people.”

Person. Singular.

You anticipated a high chance of seeing Matthew tonight, and if it was true, it would be your first time seeing each other in person in two months. After week upon week of late night phone calls — full of dirty words, quiet moans, and soft goodnight wishes. With his timezone being three hours behind yours, the two of you set alarms on your phone to talk in the early hours of the morning. Until you fell into this routine of talking every night. First, helping each other get off — sometimes more than once. And then having a sleepy, giggle-filled conversation about anything under the sun. It regularly lasted until one of you fell asleep.

So, yeah. You were eager to see him. Even more eager to get back to his place. Get back underneath him. It’d been a week since you last spoke, both of you being too busy moving back to New York. You ached for him dearly. And you wanted his first reaction to seeing you again to be lustful, intense. The outfit was perfect.

Claire and you walked across campus, arm in arm, skin glowing under the lights, hair blowing in the breeze. The music was palpable, and you could hear it from miles away. The two of you stepped into the dorming building, giggling at the sight of familiar faces, the smell of alcohol and weed, the sound of bass.

For most of the night it was easy to mingle. You carried a solo cup of alcohol from each room — vodka. Everytime you drank rum, you got horny. It was weird. You couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into someone you knew, be it a dancer, an actor, film student. Being a double major, and active on campus, you knew way too many people. And everyone seemed to be there that night. It took you a good hour to rotate amongst groups.

“[y/n]?”

You turned around, a smile instantly appearing on your face. “Alex! Oh, my goodness! How are you?”

The dashing boy smiled at you, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey! I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m currently trying to have a good time despite being tired as hell.”

He laughed, “Well, I see you’ve got some good time juice there, so you’re halfway to freedom. Hey, I forgot to tell you — your performance in the nutcracker last Christmas was incredible. I, uh, I actually went to the spring ballet after that because I was so impressed.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “I like to inspire people to experience ballet. It’s cool.”

“I was very inspired,” he nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have some more classes together this semester.”

“Yeah! If not, you know how to reach me.” You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling too wide. He gave you a quick wink, and walked away.

You instantly began looking for Claire, rushing around the dorm for anyone resembling your friend. You noticed her in the threshold of a room, shoulder leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. You walked up to her, “Claire! Claire, you’re not gonna believe who I just ran into. It was definitely not the reunion I was expecting tonight.”

Claire was dazed, staring in front of her with a face solid as stone. You very rarely saw her like this, and it freaked you out right away. “Claire? Claire, dude, what’s wrong?” You turned your head to follow her gaze, and your eyes landed on the couch.

People lined the cushions, and dead in the center was Matthew. His hair had grown out a lot, and he dressed differently. All button down shirts and khaki shorts. With that damn chain tucked in his collar. And beside him was a girl. Hair jet black, a matching black mini dress, paired with sandals. They were kissing. Hot. Heavy. His hand gripping her hair, the other on his thigh. When they seperated, she touched his lips and you felt yourself having a stroke. The giggled at each other and Matthew kissed her cheek.

“It’s about one-thirty, right?” Claire asked you, her sight not moving.

You gulped. There was an ache in your chest that made it hard to speak. But you took a deep breath, and release the words, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Claire walked around you, heading towards the exit, and you followed. The two of you walked home, silent, arms over each other’s shoulders. In the room, Claire dropped her stuff to the floor, kicked her shoes off and sat on her bed. You rushed into the space, approached your nightstand and rummaged through it.

“What are you doing, [y/n]?”

“I’m packing a bowl,” you replied, grabbing your herbs, a lighter and the bowl.

“Right now? In here?” She gasped.

“Is that okay?”

She sighed, “Yeah. Come share.”

The two of you sat on her bed, thirty minutes later, laying against the wall with your heads staring at the ceiling. Your eyelids were lowered, red, and your breathing was slow.

“I’m hungry,” Claire said, texting on her phone. “Do we have gummy bears? I want gummy bears. But haribo gummy bears. Not those knocks off we used to buy. And some soda. Soda would be so good right now. My mouth is so dry.”

You stayed quiet, eyes focused on the lights overhead. You couldn’t get the image out of your mind. Matthew. And that girl. Kissing. Touching.

“Her name is Veronica,” Claire said.

You turned your hear to her, “Huh?”

“Her name is Veronica,” she repeated. “Or Roni for short.” She rolled her eyes. “She, uh, she’s from Vegas. She went to school with...Gube, actually. They dated.”

“Oh...” you nodded. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I — I, yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged. “It’s just...really inconvenient of him to go back to her right now.”

“Back to her?”

“They’re together. They’re dating. Apparently they got back together this summer.”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, a thousand thoughts running through your mind at once. “What do you think about that?” Claire asked.

“Uh...” You shrugged. “I’m surprised anyone actually touches that boy,” you laughed, the sound coming out broken and sad.

“Yeah...well...Misty says Roni is a big one for Gube. That, um, necklace he wears? She gave it to him years ago. He never took it off.”

You nodded, “Yeah,” your voice cracked. “Well, that’s...that’s some heavy fixation there.”

“[y/n]...”

“I should shower. I’m gonna shower.” You went to get off the bed, but Claire grabbed your wrist. You turned to her, and she pushed your hair out of your face.

“I’m really upset about this, kid,” she said. “Can you...can you just lay with me for a bit?”

You sighed, gave her a small smile and leaned in to hug her. She held you close, placing one hand on your head and the other on your rest. And she let you rest your head on her chest, as you let silent tears roll down your cheeks.

Monday morning, you got up at 5 in the morning. You spent 2 hours in the ballet studio, twirling and dancing until your feet went numb. When you returned home, Claire was still asleep and you took a quick shower. You tried on ten different outfits, applied makeup, spent a long time on your hair. You made breakfast, checked for any assignments, surfed social media. And still had an hour before class.

You chose to walk around campus, locate all your classes, grab some coffee, and then you headed to your first class. Walking through the building, you sipped on your drink, moving absentmindedly roaming the halls. Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled you into a storage closet. Your scream was cut short, and you jumped as the door closed behind you.

You looked up at see Matthew staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered, turning to exit the room. But Matthew put his hand on the door knob to stop you.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Um, do I see you at the party —“

“Yep,” you nodded, not making eye contact with him.

“So...then, you saw me at the party with—“

“Yep.”

“Okay...[y/n]...”

“I really have to go to class, so, thanks for the detour, but I’m leaving now.” You removed his hand from the knob and left the closet, not looking back.

You walked into your classroom, swallowing to get rid of the weird feeling in your throat. You set your bag down and took a seat. You attempted to shake Matthew out of your mind, the smell of him, the sight of him, the tension of being so close to him. But it was hard. It may have been the hardest thing ever.

“Well, well, well,” a voice called to you. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

You looked up to see Alex, giving you a toothy grin and a look of pure joy. “Alex,” you breathed. “Hi. This is awesome, you’re in here?”

“Yeah,” he took a seat beside you. “Haven’t seen you much since freshman year. This is nice.”

“It sure is.”

So.

Remember number eight on your list of atrocities against Matthew Gubler?

Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project.

Alex would be the friend. He was gorgeous and kind and so good in bed. You first met in a cinematography class freshman year, where he very boldly asked if you wanted to hang out some time. You smiled, said yes, and that led to the aforementioned sexual encounter. It only happened a handful of times, until the semester was over. Then you didn’t see each other as often.

But he was here now. He was here and he was flirting with you. You were flirting back. You were hurt and upset and confused and so fucking horny, you could burst. So, after classes, you reached out to him and asked if he could help you with a pre class assignment. He told you to come over. You did.

You didn’t work on the assignment though.

Starting off pretty hot and heavy, it was a few weeks of meaningless sex until he asked you out. Claire cheered when she heard the news, causing you to give her a confused look. “Why are you so happy that I have a date?” You giggled.

“Oh...I just — Alex is cute! He’s great, I always wondered what happened to him. You said he was good in the sack and he was always sweet to you. I’m just, so glad you’re happy.”

You gave her a faux smile, “Yeah. I’m happy.”

Alex’s friend was having a birthday party at his apartment, and Alex insisted you come. Said it was the only way he’d be able to have any fun when everyone got too drunk. You agreed, and when he picked you up that night, you were dressed in a purple romper and diamond earrings.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You look beautiful, too.”

He held your hand as he drove to the apartment, as you got out the car, walked up the stairs, entered the living space. He introduced you to everyone you met, his arm around you proudly and your head nuzzled into his chest.

Watching you across the room was a very irritated Matthew Gubler, who sat with Veronica on his lap and a beer in his hand. You didn’t notice Matthew’s presence for a long time, considering the fact that he was avoiding you, and you were more focused on Alex.

While talking to Alex’s friends, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You strolled down the hallway, searching for the restroom.

“[y/n]!”

You turned around, confused. Matthew marched up to you, his hands in his pocket, his face determined.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you told him, and continued to walk.

He followed you. “So, you dating Alex now?”

“That’s not really your business, now is it?”

He grabbed onto your arm and pulled your body into his, hiding you two behind a corner. “No, but it bugs me.”

“It bugs you?”

“It bugs me. I don’t want you with Alex. Alex is a dick.”

“Well, not to me—“

Matthew leaned down and kissed you, his hands tightened on your waist. He kissed you like he was starving, mouth open, breath heavy.

You pushed him away, your eyes closed in shock and ecstasy. No, no, you thought. “Matthew—“

“Let’s leave,” he interjected.

“Huh?”

“Let’s leave. Me and you. Let’s go.”

“No,” you snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because, I’m here with Alex! And you’re here with...her, so, no. I’m staying here, with the guy I came with.”

“C’mon—“

“Matthew, no! No! Are you deaf? Are you dumb? Leave me alone, and go back to your girlfriend.” You suddenly didn’t have to pee anymore, so you returned to Alex and his group of friends. Matthew watched as you took a seat in Alex’s lap, and you pretended not to notice.

There was radio silence for months. Matthew even removed you on snapchat, and for your sanity, you ignored it. You continued a casual relationship with Alex, and he continued to worship the ground you walked on. A vast change in pace from Matthew. Claire pushed for the Alex relationship hardcore, saying hi to him when came over, giving you guys time alone, tagging alone with you two to parties.

But every once in a while, you thought about Matthew. When you saw a particular movie, or heard one of his favorite bands, right after you would have sex. And especially on Halloween. Over the summer, he told you all about his costume plans, party plans, and movie marathons he was going to have. And for some reason, like a clown, you just assumed you’d be with him when it happened.

By the time final exams were over, you and Alex considered yourselves exclusive. You strolled into the end of the year party, holding hands and laughing. You’d fallen into a good groove with his friends. They all liked you, you liked them, and you enjoyed their company. While sitting with them, one pulled out a joint, lit it and began to pass it around.

“Want a hit?” Alex asked.

“She’s pretty tiny. Can she handle it?” A friend said.

You glared at her and took the paper between your lips, inhaling and holding a large amount of smoke. She watched in amazement as you exhaled through your nose, “Well...I stand corrected, princess.”

You took in a sharp breath of air.

And that was just the beginning of the spiral.

You stayed in rotation of the weed for a long time, until your thoughts were nothing but a mess of words racing everywhere. Your eyes felt heavy, so did your body. And you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You were wondering was there ever really a connection or were you just highly sexually compatible? Did Matthew ever have feelings for you or did he just want one thing? Why does kissing him and fucking him and just talking to him feel so different? How come when everything falls apart, you want Matthew? How come when everything is going well, you want Matthew? Need to talk to Matthew. Where’s Matthew? Where’s Matthew?

“[y/n]!” Alex called. “You’re high as fuck,” he laughed. “What are you thinking about?”

Matthew.

“Come here,” and he pulled you into a kiss. And when you pulled away, feeling nothing, nothing at all, you realized you needed Matthew. You needed to feel something. But Matthew wasn’t here. And you wish he was here. Where’s Matthew?

Tears were springing to your eyes, but you quickly began to cough, distracting yourself with a new sensation. You rose to your feet, and exited the room, much to Alex’s disapproval. He watched you rush past him, his face laced with confusion.

Everyone you passed by looked like Matthew. Why did everyone look like Matthew? You missed Matthew. And this was unfair. You wiped at the tears in your eyes, but they were already gliding down your cheeks. They burned your skin and it made you cry more. You were blinded. And way too high to notice Matthew - the real Matthew - entering the hallway.

His eyes were redder than red, a lot like yours. His movements were slow. But something told him to reach out for you. Like a magnet. And you fell into his arms. It took him a whole second to realize it was you, but he did.

“[y/n]?” he whispered. “Oh, my God, [y/n]. What’s wrong? What happened?” His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears on your cheek.

“[y/n]!” Oh, no. Alex. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

At that point, you looked up at Matthew. Focused in on him. Said his name. But his attention had turned to Alex. And he was pissed. You could tell.

“Wait, wait, Matthew, wait,” you pleaded.

“What the hell did you do to her?” He shouted, holding you close.

“Wait, Matthew, he didn’t—“

“Gube, let her go, dude!.” Alex snapped, reaching for your arm.

And that sent Matthew through the roof. He released you from his arms and moved towards Alex, delivering a swift punch to his face. You’d never seen Matthew so much as cuss someone out, so this. This. This was hard to register. Nonetheless, you screamed his name, attempting to push both of them away from the brawl. But it was useless.

Two guys had to step in and separate Alex and Matthew, pulling them to opposing sides of the hallway. And you had to decide who to follow. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

You kept a good 100 feet behind Matthew the whole time, watching him stomp his way to his residence hall. You knew exactly how to get into the building, but weren’t sure you should. You’d never seen him so angry. So red. So primal.

But, Matthew.

Oh, God, Matthew. What would you say? What would you do? Did he want to see you? Did he want to be alone? Was his roommate there? You paced for 20 minutes, freezing your ass off outside the dormitory. Your mind was made up when you found the side entrance and let yourself in, marching up the steps. Now or never. Now or never. And you needed to see Matthew now.

You perched yourself in front of his door, paused, and proceeded to knock with full force. “Be home, be home, be home,” you whispered.

He was home.

He came to the door, shirtless, his face bruised, his hair tasseled, and that stupid, ridiculous gold chain around his neck. And you’d never wanted to suck a dick so badly in your entire life. You instantly imagined grabbing him, kissing him, pulling him close. But you didn’t do that. You stood there, looking like an idiot, until he spoke.

“What are you doing here, [y/n]?”

You hadn’t even thought about it. It just felt right to follow him. “I—I wanted...I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He shrugged, “I’m alright.” His face was stern. Stoic. No emotion showed on his features and it made you sick.

“Oh,” you said. “Okay.”

You stared at each other for a long time. You just wanted him to say it. Ask you to stay. Ask you to come in. To admit it. But he wouldn’t. So you had to walk away.

“Okay,” you nodded, sadly, and ducked your head as you headed towards the exit. “Okay.” You sniffled, patting at your eyes as they watered.

Matthew watched you go. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. “[y/n],” he called.

You’d stopped in your tracks.

“You...you were pretty stoned at the party,” he told you. “Are you sober?”

You turned your body to face him. You thought about his eyes. How red they were. How slow he moved. How you had both been utterly and totally high as hell. “I’m sober,” you said. Honestly. After all of tonight’s events, and the sheer shock of seeing Matthew, being so close to him again, you had sobered up. “Believe me, I’m sober. Are you?”

Matthew licked him lips, nodding as he sighed. He stepped out into the hallway, and pushed the door to his dorm open. He signaled for you to enter.

You gave him a quick and sad smile, and you avoided eye contact with him as you stepped into the empty room. He led the way to his private room, and let you in, closing the door behind you. You kept your back to him, arms crossed over your chest.

He sighed, “I’m—Veronica and I broke up. Actually, she broke up with me...again. So, y’know, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but—“

“Matthew,” you cut him off, turning to him. “I need a favor.”

He hesitated, then his voice was strong, “Anything.”

“I leave for home next week for Christmas break. And since, I can’t seem to figure out what the hell about you is driving me insane, Matthew Gubler, I’m going to need time. Space. If you need time and space. So, you need to make that decision.”

“Okay.”

“But right now, take your clothes off,” you ordered.

“Okay.”

He stared at you lustfully, just like you wanted, his body moving on autopilot to remove his shorts and boxers. You mirrored his movements, and took off your dress, subsequently tossing your bra and panties onto the floor. He grabbed onto your body and kissed you, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your waist. He pushed you back onto his bed, falling on top of you and kissing your neck. You held onto his torso as he made way to your collarbone, nibbling on it lightly. He pulled away and gropped your breasts, massaging them with his fingers.

He was practically drooling over them, his eyes focused solely on your boobs. He leaned down and sucked on your nipple, while his hand slid down between your legs. He felt around your core, and slowly slid two fingers into you. You threw your head back, and moaned.

Matthew kissed a trail from your breast to your hips. He began to kiss your inner thighs, kneeling down in front of you and pulling you up to his face. He pressed his tongue against your clit, working his muscle in an up and down motion. You moved your hips against his face and his fingers, gasping weakly. You forgot how good his mouth felt, but this was huge, huge reminder. You gripped onto his hair and swore under your breath.

He noticed your thighs tightening around his face, and increased his intensity and speed. Your back arched off of the mattress, you whimpered into your mouth, and your chest was heaving. You let out a long groan as you came on his face, your entire body tensing up. He withdrew his fingers from you, and licked up from your core to your navel to your breasts. He kissed your neck, then your lips. And he sucked his fingers clean, holding eye contact with you.

Overwhelmed, you pulled him in by his face and kissed him passionately. He grunted against your lips, rubbing his cock on your core. He pushed into you, his jaw dropping and his forehead against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and this encouraged him to thrust into you. Matthew held you in his arms, moaning into your ear as he moved his hips.

You kissed his jaw, sucking on the skin until you felt it pulse between your lips. You could feel his muscles moving under your palms, and his cock striking a sensitive spot inside of you. It felt like you were crumbling, getting weaker by the second. But when you felt the chain hitting your chin, you wired back to life. You gripped onto the necklace and twisted it around your fingers, angrily biting your lip.

As he slammed into you, you muttered a soft “fuck!” and yanked on the chain. It popped off of his neck, and it was cathartic. You moaned and threw it to a far corner of the room. You reached down and rubbed your clit quickly, panting as Matthew’s body began to tremble. He kept his gaze focused on you as you let him fuck you into another orgasm, and your hips rolled against his in an eager rhythm.

“Oh, fuck!” Matthew exclaimed, pulling out of you just in time. He released himself onto your stomach, moaning and gasping for air.

The mattress creaked as he laid down beside you, collapsing with a thud. The two of you stared at the ceiling, naked and breathy and covered in sweat. You rested your hand on Matthew’s chest, and he intertwined your fingers.

The next week, you were headed to the train station to get home for Christmas. Not knowing what to say to each, Matthew and you hadn’t talked since last week. You sat in the back of an uber, your suitcase at your side, when your phone vibrated in your lap. You picked it up and recognized Matthew’s name flashing on your screen.

You sighed, swiped to answer, and held the phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“I don’t want space.”

“I—“ You stuttered.

“I want as little space as possible.”

You were stunned, quiet, “Okay.”

The line went dead, and you set your phone down. You bit down on your lip. But the smile was still clear.

[PART 5.]

#mine #college!matthew #esny #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #mgg smut #mgg imagine

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