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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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golden-wingseos · 3 years

Text

from him, the sun - baizhu

featuring —

✧ baizhu x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ written before baizhu's release (is he ever going to get released??)

notes ―

✧ e

synopsis ―

✧ for a seasoned adventurer like you, getting injured was a phenomenon all-too common. determined to escape from bubu pharmacy, it seems things didn't go as planned... because you were caught.

“Today, I will escape.” You thought with a determined expression, fists clenched as you peeked out the door of your confinement room.

Baizhu—the head of Bubu Pharmacy—was very used to your visits. So much so, that he had a day in the week reserved for you solely because you had managed to get injured so much.

Was it a skill? Definitely. For a high-caliber adventurer like you, getting injured so often was only a trademark of how cool you were.

Was it an opportunity to get to know the handsome-yet-mysterious owner of the Pharmacy? Yes. Though, you had made no advances.

But now! Now, you’ve had enough! Baizhu had told you to stay put in your room so you could ‘heal’ or whatever— but that’s lame!

Hearing no footsteps and seeing no people, you had concluded: Wow. They’re finally gone. Even Qiqi had remembered enough to not let you worsen your leg injury, so she was definitely off limits.

Taking a single step out into the lobby, you glanced around once more, the sharp smell of herbs stinging your nose and lungs as they seemed to pierce your dull senses.

“I’m free!” You exclaimed, speedwalking (so your leg wouldn’t act up) straight out of the pharmacy. You may not be from Mondstadt— but damn! Bless Barbatos! Let the Wind Lead!

“Is that so?”

You ignored that voice. Nope! You were most definitely free!

Of course, that was until a hand reached out— grabbing the back of your collar and refraining you from taking any more steps out and towards the light.

Holding you firmly like a dog by a collar, you didn’t bother to turn around to see who your captor was. Seriously, even though the man holding you like an animal was supposed to be ‘fragile’ and ‘frail’, there was absolutely nothing frail about him!

“Ah hah… ayeee…” Averting your eyes from his own golden ones, the kind smile on the male’s face indicated that he had already anticipated your sudden patriotic ‘escape’ before you had even thought of it.

Damn intelligent men.

“Is your leg feeling better?” Baizhu settled you lightly on the floor, side-eyeing you just in case you’d decide to make a break for it again.

“Yes, very much so. It’s so much better that I feel like I can go outside and ru—”

“Hm… it seems to still be swelling. Hold on for a moment, I’ll get you some ointment.” Not falling for your obvious lie, Baizhu began sorting through some bottles on the counter behind the reception desk, complicated names and texts scribbled across their lids.

“Here, hold still,” Gesturing for you to sit atop the desk, Baizhu began to roll the hem of your pants up, taking the ointment across his fingertips and smearing it on the swell of your shin.

“Oh, it feels better!” You exclaimed in awe, about to flail your leg around if it weren’t for the warm hand resting on your knee, signaling you to stop whatever dumb move you were about to do.

“Now, you should go back to your room. We wouldn’t want you getting more injured in futile attempts to run off into the sunset.” Smiling innocently, you swore there was a hint of cheekiness in that delicate face of his.

“Eh?” You gasped, stumbling once Baizhu ushered you back into the treatment room, your figure visibly deflating as you tried convincing the pharmacist otherwise.

“Please? Please? Can I just watch you play with your drugs or something? WHY? I don’t want to go back! It’s boring!” Whining like a toddler, Baizhu could merely sigh at your antics before abruptly stopping, pausing you alongside him.

“Okay. Just make sure not to strain yourself, alright?”

“HUH? Baizhu caring about me?! Since when?!”

“. . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[❦]

It seems that fateful interaction was what led you to be sitting in the very corner of Baizhu’s herb room, watching him sort through different kinds of leaves as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

I think I’ll get intoxicated by just sitting in here, covering your nose in an attempt to shield yourself from the pungent smell of just vegetation and weird materials. It was no surprise that the ever-observant Baizhu noticed your change in posture.

“You don’t have to sit here and watch, go get some rest.” The male turned over to you, hands dusted with all shades of colors thanks to the items he was handling just earlier.

“No, it’s okay. What you’re doing looks interesting.” Overcoming the smell, you quickly stood up, shuffling over to the empty spot beside the pharmacist.

“Would you like to learn about the different kinds of remedial herbs?” He queried nonchalantly. Yet at that moment, you swore Baizhu was one of the prettiest— if not the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

His pale green hair reflected in the light like a mirror, rays of pinks and yellows appearing in his hair as if pixie dust had been sprinkled all over it. Then your eyes trailed down to his neck, which did not host the pearl white snake you had grown so accustomed to.

Strange, yet gorgeous. Baizhu was perhaps a specimen, an enigma in the galaxy that you have yet to figure out. Like Venus, all you could do was admire from afar, hoping that he’d notice you in the sea of millions.

And perhaps in this moment, he did. He gazed at you generously, fondly, even. Like a moonflower untouched by mankind, you quickly averted your eyes from that same generous gaze— worried that your heart may explode at this rate.

Maybe, Baizhu was like the sun. Untouchable and bright, a being you saw every day yet hardly knew much about you. And you— you were the sunflower. Prospering under his care and touch, this brief interaction of silent observation would certainly be one that’d remain timeless.

“... Sure.” Snapping out of your trance, you quickly turned away from him. Your ears felt hot, heart thumping in your chest so fast you were worried your rib cage couldn’t contain the organ anymore.

Feigning obliviousness to your dazed expression, Baizhu began picking up different types of herbs, listing their names so fluently you wondered if it was another language you were yet to learn.

Foreign names like chamomile and feverfew popped up, ginseng and ginger being familiar to your ears because Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor oftentimes made tea out of such herbs. Perhaps you should thank the amber-eyed man later for being so knowledgeable in teas.

“[Name]?” The pharmacist paused, using this brief moment to look at you, “are you okay? You don’t have to listen, you can even go walk around the harbor if you want.”

The idea was tempting, like a dream turning into a reality. Yet something was pulling you back, like the Earth and the Sun. Maybe, just maybe you were Icarus. Baizhu was so close yet so far, and you only wanted to inch higher and higher, burning those wings made of wax in the process.

No. A more ideal comparison would be of the rainbow bird— or was it? You couldn’t tell. Tempting like a golden apple during a race for love, tantalizing like wafting food in front of a starving man.

But today. Today, you will take your chance.

“It’s alright. I’d rather be here with you anyways,” your voice dipped into a whisper, like a river running dry or a bird’s call being silenced mid-scream.

Was this alright? Was it alright to backpedal on an opportunity you had yearned for for so long?

You swore you caught the faintest of red tipped onto Baizhu’s ears. Yes, he was definitely still the ever-enigmatic sun you had assumed of him originally,

But now— maybe you were just a little bit closer than before, though unlike Icarus— you had already fallen long before the sun could burn your wings.

#baizhu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin oneshots #genshin headcanons #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact scenarios #genshin baizhu #baizhu #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Compromise | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: after weeks in bucky barnes’ basement, you continue to plot your escape. unfortunately for you, he’s been plotting something, too.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (noncon), oral (m receiving), forced breeding, bargaining, kidnapping/imprisonment, yandere (slightly?), a little bit of lactation kink

The jingling of keys was almost too quiet to hear, but with no other sound in your rusty shack of a prison, it was deafening. Your heart raced with the realization that your captor was returning home, even though you had anticipated it since his daily schedule (and in turn, yours) operated like clockwork.

The door opening and slamming shut. The rustling of chains and sliding of metal— he’s locking the deadbolts again. You tried to count them to see if you could figure how many he had on the door upstairs, but you lost track of which sound was what after three or four. You needed to know that before you attempted your escape, so you could calculate the time you’d need to get out the front door.

But that was sort of a moot point when you couldn’t get to the front door. Your first obstacle was the door in front of you. Your first obstacle was getting out of this basement.

An issue for another day, though, because Bucky was home and he was coming down to see you. It was earlier than usual, as he normally spent time upstairs first and didn’t come down until he had to bring you your dinner. Even just that small disruption to your daily routine made you fear the worst.

The door creaked and groaned under its own weight as it swung open, your captor waiting on the other side, The orange light of the afternoon was only a sliver across the wall, since your only window was no more than a few inches tall and at right at the ground level (which, in your case, was just below the ceiling; if you stood on your bed you could see out, but it was just grass and trees as far as you could see). As he stepped down the concrete stairs and shut the door behind him, that sliver of light illuminated only his crystal-blue eyes.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment; him broad and strong and glowering menacingly by the door, you cowering in the corner.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m here so I can have your baby,” you answered as calmly as you could manage. He had made it overwhelmingly clear over the past few weeks, and although he’d never touched you that way in your time here, every day was shrouded with the impending reality of his purpose for you.

“Good job,” he praised flatly. “I’ve been waiting a while, for the right time…”

So have I, you thought to yourself, reflecting on your plan but stopping yourself as if you thought he might somehow read your mind and find a way to stop you.

“Today’s the day,” he informed you plainly. “Get on the bed.”

You pressed yourself back against the cold brick, shaking your head. He sighed, stalking closer to you as his combat boots echoed across the room with each step.

“Don’t make this difficult. It’s inevitable— and if you behave, I’ll make it good for you, too.”

“No, please,” you begged, shrinking into a ball as he neared your corner, “please don’t—”

He grabbed your wrist and yanked you to your feet, ignoring your yelps of pain; with a growl, he shoved you against the wall. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ve given you time to accept it and prepare yourself. Now get. On. The bed.”

Your mind raced as it searched for how to get out of this, but it came up nearly blank. He was a super soldier, with a vibranium arm; fighting was not at all an option. Begging was a waste, because you’d done that so many times before and all it did was get you punished— he never beat or starved you, thankfully, because he said it would interfere with your fertility, but he was quick to take away your few chances for privacy. You shuddered at the memory of those times that he’d chained you up and refused to let you feed or bathe yourself, doing it all for you instead.

His eyes were burning into your skin and you knew he was going to take what he wanted from you. You knew you couldn’t stop him from getting what he’d been waiting for… but you wondered if you could negotiate with him still. Maybe if you appealed to his arousal, you could gamble your dignity but save yourself from getting pregnant. After all, sex with this psycho sounded like a nightmare, but a child with him was unthinkable.

“I… I can still pleasure you,” you offered weakly, your voice and hands trembling with fear as you looked up at him. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked back with an expression of confusion. “You can use my mouth instead. I’ll be so good,” you promised, swallowing nervously as his eyes scanned your face, “I’ll do anything you want, I just don’t want to get pregnant.”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, and you smiled because he was considering it and that meant you had a shot.

“Please, please Bucky let me suck your cock,” you begged, feeling a little sick as you had to feign this sort of eagerness, “it’ll be so good, pleasepleaseplease—”

“Alright, don’t overexert yourself,” he sighed, like he was doing you a favor. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt… just this once. But it’d better be as good as you’re making it seem, or I’ll just fuck you instead.”

You beamed and fell to your knees. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much— I’m gonna make it good, I promise Bucky, I’ll do whatever you like.”

“Well, you need to get it out first.”

You nodded and reached up to his belt, swallowing nervously as you started to undo the buckle. It wasn’t too bright in the room but you could see the outline of his cock through his jeans— it was hard already, and you could tell it was big. You figured the fabric was making it seem thicker than it really was, because it couldn’t possibly be that thick, right?

You looked up at him through your lashes as you opened the belt all the way, using touch to navigate the button and fly as you maintained eye contact. His face was as unreadable as ever, stoic aside from a tightened jaw. You really hoped he was enjoying this, because your ability to avoid getting pregnant was riding on it.

You unzipped the jeans slowly, slightly afraid that teasing would get you in trouble but smiling up at him as if you had no fear at all. You needed to act like this blowjob was the best thing that ever happened to you. If it kept this psycho from knocking you up, maybe it would be.

As you pulled his jeans down his thighs, you gasped a little at the outline of his cock through his boxer-briefs. “Fuck,” you murmured, “it really is that big.”

Bucky’s stern exterior finally cracked as a small smirk crossed his face. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a hint of playful challenge in his tone.

“I’ll try my best,” you answered as you rubbed it through the fabric. With a breath to stabilize yourself, you slipped your fingers under the elastic, pulled his underwear down his muscular thighs— slowly, thoughtfully— and set the beast free.

With it staring you in the face like this, the tip red and dotted with a pearl of pre-cum, you wondered how you ever thought this was a good idea.

You took a quick breath in and out to stabilize yourself and try to accept that this was really happening, before delicately wrapping your hand around it. Your fingers didn’t even reach your palm… you were so screwed.

“Waiting for something?” he asked you impatiently.

“It’s better if you build anticipation,” you explained, looking up at him again.

“I know,” he frowned. “What do you think I’ve been waiting all this time for?”

You were trying not to think about where you were, what this was, who he was. Of course he would remind you, just to make it even harder.

You leaned forward and licked the head with a long, slow lap, tasting the warmth and musk of his skin on your tongue. You met his gaze when you did it again, finishing the motion by wrapping your lips around the head. Your tongue swirled over the skin and tasted everywhere you could reach, paying extra attention to his slit, and you finally got the slightest reaction as his mouth fell slack.

Needing some relief for your jaw already, you pulled back and stroked him slowly with a smile. “You taste soooo good,” you purred, internally cringing at your own poor acting. “I bet your come’s gonna taste even better.”

Spreading the wetness from your mouth over the rest of his shaft, you were able to get a bit of a rhythm going with your hand before you swallowed the head again, bobbing up and down and taking him a little deeper each time. You tried to change it up and watch for what might get him going: teasing him with the tip of your tongue, moaning around him, reaching down to grab his balls and rub them— but he was slow to warm up. His first real sign of pleasure was when his fingers pushed your hair out of your face, then traced down your cheek where it was hollowed from sucking.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he groaned, grabbing your chin and guiding you to take him a little deeper. You moaned again and tried to relax your throat as his tip began to brush over the back of your tongue.

You got into a routine fairly quickly— suck, bob, stroke, gag, repeat. Your free hand fondled his balls a bit, and you would stop to lick and suck them from time to time, but it seemed like you needed to keep trying to get him in your throat if you had any chance at making him come soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, putting his hand on the back of your neck and starting to buck his hips up against you. You almost reached up to put your hands on his thighs and slow him down, but stopped yourself; you couldn’t afford to say no to him right now.

“Choke on it,” he growled, holding you down and watching you gag as tears welled in your eyes. Just as you thought you might throw up or pass out, he let you go and you were able to pull back. You coughed a little but started stroking him in the meantime while your throat recovered. You knew he was getting closer to the edge, you just hoped he was getting a lot closer, for your sake.

When you couldn’t take gagging anymore, and when you started to really feel him flexing and throbbing against your tongue, you pulled off of him and stroked his cock eagerly. “Do you wanna come on my face, Bucky? Or do you want me to swallow it?” you moaned, trying to sound sultry in spite of how exhausted and fucked-out you must’ve looked.

“Neither,” he replied, throwing you off-guard again. “I’m gonna come in your mouth, but I don’t want you to swallow it until I tell you to. Is that clear?”

You nodded, even though the idea of having to keep his come in your mouth for any longer than a moment sounded wretched.

He slipped his cock back into your mouth, hitting your throat every time and ignoring when you gagged. His breaths got heavier as you could feel his cock begin to pulse again. “Gonna come,” he warned you with a deep moan, “fuck, you ready?”

You did your best attempt at a nod, looking up at him the whole time. He looked back at you, his teeth bared and eyes wild, and the way he glared at you made you throb between your legs.

His moans were shaky as he came, the taste of him coating your tongue and throat with every thrust. He came a lot, more than you’d expected, and you sucked lightly on the sensitive head before pulling off.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “that was good. You were right.”

You didn’t smile, because you were afraid to let any of it spill. You got the impression that if you got come on his boots, you’d get in serious trouble. He helped you stand up, examining your face for a moment.

“You’re not swallowing yet, right? I wanna see it in your mouth,” he purred. He held your chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your mouth for him, letting his spend gather on your tongue. “Good girl.”

You stayed still as his hands wandered over your body, settling on the knot that held your robe tied together. He didn’t let you dress in anything more than that, though he thankfully kept the temperature nice enough that you didn’t need a lot more. With one tug, he undid the knot and it fell open; another quick push off your shoulders and you were completely naked in front of him.

He hummed contentedly, running his fingertips over your skin until you shivered, goosebumps forming in the wake of his touch. “I’ve seen you before, but that was strictly business,” he explained, his voice dreamy like he wasn’t focusing that much on his words but rather on what he was seeing in front of him. “Now I can finally appreciate you the way you deserve.”

You were terrified of what this all meant— apparently this is how he relaxes after an orgasm, some sort of cryptic take on pillow talk?— but you stayed still and kept your mouth shut, literally and figuratively.

“Spit it out into my hand,” he instructed. Confused and a little disgusted, you obeyed as he cupped his palm beneath your mouth. You were still trying to process that when his other hand— the metal one— grabbed you by the neck and forced you down, expending almost no effort in order to bend you over the edge of the bed and pin you there.

It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to scream before he was wiping his come on your pussy, shoving it in with his fingers.

“No!” you cried when you realized what he’d done, but it was too late to beg because it had already happened. You could feel it dripping out of you, but he never let it get very far before two fingers dragged it back and pushed it in.

“You’re soaked,” he observed with a cruel laugh. “You love sucking cock, huh? Maybe I’ll let you do it again sometime.”

All you could do was sob, hoping he would be done soon and you could get back to preparing your escape plan; he’d already come, so what more could he do to you?

“I don’t know if it’s getting deep enough,” he frowned as he knelt down and examined between your legs. If his hand wasn’t already wrapped around your neck you would’ve considered trying to kick him in the face or something, but you felt so helpless already and didn’t want to anger him further. “Here’s what we’ll do,” he decided, standing up and leaning over you as he started to get on the bed with you. “I’m gonna fuck this come into you, as deep as I can go. How about that?”

You shook your head and continued your sobs as he grabbed you and tossed you on your back, grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders.

“Bucky, you can’t!” you begged weakly, reaching up to cover your face with your hands. He didn’t care for that, grabbing your arms and pinning them to either side of you.

“Look at me!” he demanded, and you blinked your eyes open even as you turned your face away slightly to hide that last little bit. “Yes I fucking can. I can fuck you five more times tonight if I want to. I don’t think I’ll be able to come any more after that, but I could still fuck you again just to be sure. So, do you want to spend all night full of my cock? Or just the next half hour?”

Clearly, you’d underestimated the ramifications of his ‘super’ status. You had assumed that finishing once would satiate him, but you saw now that he had a lot more in store for you.

“Make it quick, please,” you whispered, your last piece of negotiation for the night— hopefully. He grinned and you swallowed.

“Oh, I think you ruined any chance of that. I probably wouldn’t’ve lasted too long if we’d stuck to my original plans— what, with all the waiting for the past few weeks,” he chuckled. “But now that you got me off already, it might be awhile before I can come again.”

You closed your eyes and sighed in defeat. He pushed down on the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread wide and your body all but folded in half.

“I think my fingers warmed you up enough, don’t you? You can take it,” he decided as he started to slide his cock over your folds; like he was going to play with his prey before he devoured it. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“No, no,” you whispered, shutting your eyes tighter.

His voice got closer as the weight on your legs shifted; he was leaning above you, looking right at you, and you were too terrified to open your eyes.

“Beg me to fuck you and get you pregnant.”

“Nonononono,” you sobbed, because maybe it was all a terrible dream and it would end soon.

“Sooner you do it, sooner I start, sooner I finish. And then it’ll all be over and I’ll leave you alone.”

It’ll only just be the beginning, some voice in your head told you, but did it even make any difference?

“Please… fuck me,” you whispered, so quiet that only a man with enhanced hearing could pick up on it— but he would rather pretend not to.

“Speak up, honey, I can’t hear ya,” he grinned, “and look at me with those pretty eyes.”

You blinked your eyes open, staring back at the man above you. “Please, Bucky…” you said, a little louder, “please fuck me… I want you to g-get me pregnant.”

And part of you was almost thankful when he finally slammed his cock into you, because at least he wasn’t going to make you beg any longer. Still, your back arched and your mouth fell into a silent scream as the pain of his forced entry shot through you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he growled, already pulling back to thrust deeper, “oh my god, you feel so fucking good.”

It was all too much, and the way he had you positioned made him go so deep in you that you could barely breathe. You knew you’d be sore for days from this, and he had only just started.

He fucked you relentlessly, looking down and watching in awe as his cock slid in and out of your dripping hole. “Taking me so well,” he praised you with a rough voice, “such a good girl for me.”

His attempt at praise felt like the most humiliating thing he could’ve said; you wanted anything but to be good for him— after so many tries to fight back, to stall, to resist, all you’d done was make everything worse for yourself, and now he was calling you his good girl. You felt disgusting as he leaned down and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to reciprocate his aggressive kiss.

He stayed close when he pulled back, watching your expression twist with pain. “Does it still hurt, doll? It should start feeling good soon.”

It had already started to feel good, but you hadn’t admitted that to yourself. Every thrust pushed the fat head of his cock right into some part of you that was so sensitive and it was all very overwhelming.

“It’ll be better if you come,” he explained. “I wanna make it good for you, and it helps our chances of conceiving.”

An hour ago, you would have objected to the use of ‘our’— it’s not ‘our’ plan, it’s not what ‘we’ want, you would’ve said, or at least thought. But you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice it, and in a way, you two did have the same goal: you both wanted this to end, just for different reasons.

“I bet you can come just from this,” he wagered, “but it’ll be easier for you if I touch you here, right?”

One hand moved down and suddenly his thumb was circling your clit. Instantly your hips were bucking up and your walls were clenching down on him. He began to praise you for how sensitive you were, but his words were lost in your mind as you put all your energy into not having an orgasm. You couldn’t come from this— you’d been kidnapped, held captive, molested, manipulated, and now this… you just couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Let go, baby, I know you’re so close,” he encouraged, “it’s okay— it’s good, my good little girl…”

The coil snapped, and at that moment, your last piece of dignity fell and shattered. It must have been that holding it back for so long only made it more intense when you gave in, because you’d never come so hard in your life. Your eyes went from wrenched shut to shot wide open, and your back arched as your nails clawed at the sheets beneath you. You couldn’t be sure what noises you made because your ears were starting to ring, and through all of that he was still fucking you.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he grinned, “Jesus fucking Christ, you get so tight when you come.”

As the intensity of your orgasm faded, all your fight was gone with it, and you went limp as you resigned to letting him use your body this way. He leaned down and kissed your neck, sucking bitemarks into the delicate skin there— even venturing down to your collarbones. All of that meant he didn’t have to go very far to be able to whisper in your ear about how he was so close, how he was going to get you pregnant any second now, and how he couldn’t wait to see you round and swollen with his child.

“These’ll get bigger too,” he moaned as he reached up to grope your tits. “Our baby will get first serve, of course, but if there’s anything left over, I’ll help you take care of it.”

It could’ve been hours of that, for all you could tell. You came again and again— they started to blend together after a while— as he moaned the most terrifying, filthy things in your ear. You were afraid you’d go numb before he finished, his cock moving so fast and so deep that the friction nearly burned. It didn’t burn, though, because you were unendingly wet, which really just made it worse because you hated that you were, on some level, enjoying it. Every time he whispered praises to you, arousal tingled in your spine and you fluttered around him. It was obvious that his words, his body, and his cock were doing things to you that you hadn’t ever experienced before.

You were crying still, but you weren’t sobbing. No sound or heavy breathing, just tears streaming silently to the wet patch beneath your head.

“You’re so perfect,” he cooed, “and you’re gonna be a great mom. You’ll be a great wife, too… with a little more training.”

He was fucking you even faster, the lewd slapping of skin echoing through the room. You could hear how wet you were, and you could feel that it had begun to coat your inner thighs. His moans got louder, occasionally muffled as he kissed your neck some more.

“God, baby, I dunno if I can last much longer… need to fill you up, doll.”

Your legs were shaking, but the rest of you was still and silent, resigned to your fate.

“Fuck, I love you,” he groaned. “Is that strange to say? I hope it’s not too soon— but it’s true. I love you so fuckin’ much.” His sweetness dissipated instantly as he grabbed your jaw, hovering over your face again. “Say you love me, too,” he instructed. You weakly tried to shake your head. “Say it!”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you whispered, and you heard yourself say it but it didn’t sound like you at all. He smiled softly, looking down at you with gentle affection in his eyes.

“I know, sweet girl,” he hummed before he kissed you again. And as the kiss deepened, the way he moaned against your lips and his hips started to falter made it all too clear he was coming inside you. It went on for what felt like eternity, with him thrusting into you with every flex of his cock, each time slamming as deep as he could go.

He pulled you close, keeping his cock inside as he started to catch his breath and kiss your neck and shoulders slowly. Your kidnapper, after everything he’d done, actually had the audacity to cuddle with you… how bizarre.

“Might be able to go again soon,” he informed you with a sleepy mumble, “but I jus’ wanna hold ya first… I could fall asleep with you in my arms like this…”

You glanced over at the door, sadly seeing he’d locked it behind him— even locked from the inside, you couldn’t open it, due to the outrageously heavy metal bar that only he could lift. Meaning you couldn’t make your escape while he slept. With no hope of freedom in sight, and with your own eyelids getting heavy, you figured it couldn’t do any harm to fall asleep with him. You’d worry about your plan tomorrow— right now, you could just enjoy laying your head on his chest and being wrapped in his embrace.

#dark!bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky smut

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

Text

Rebound

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+

NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare

A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo

ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.

ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic

You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.

Or so you thought.

If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.

Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.

Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.

"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.

What bullshit.

Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.

Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.

As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.

"Gimmie that," you whine.

"Password," Tetsurou demands.

"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"

"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.

"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."

"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.

"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.

"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.

"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.

"What did I do wrong?"

As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.

"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.

With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.

You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.

Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.

Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.

He looked pretty good.

You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.

What happened to her?

While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.

"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.

"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.

"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.

The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.

The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.

Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-

Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.

"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.

The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.

It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.

"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.

You can't take it anymore.

"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.

Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.

"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.

"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.

Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.

Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.

"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.

"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."

Silence.

Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.

"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.

Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.

"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"

"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.

With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.

"No, uh, you don't have t-"

""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."

You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.

"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."

"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.

"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.

"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?

Did it really matter?

"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.

Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.

"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.

The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.

You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.

Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.

He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.

His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.

As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.

Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.

His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.

Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”

“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.

“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.

His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.

You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.

The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.

This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.

The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.

Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.

Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.

Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.

The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.

Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.

You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.

Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.

You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.

As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.

“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.

“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.

“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.

Blocked Number.

An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.

And reacted, he did.

Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”

“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.

“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.

Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.

Perfect for a porn twitter account.

Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.

After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.

“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.

As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”

You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.

“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”

Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.

“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.

“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader smut #smut #lemon #do people still use lemon?#oh well im using it #cheating

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marvellovegalore · 3 years

Text

Hurting you

Chris Evans

Part Une - Loving You

Synopsis: You encounter your lost love Christopher and you talk about how you've done something awful.

Word Count: 1,954

Author note: This part is the follow-up to my latest write up, which I realise didn't garner much attention, but a second part was requested. Strongly advised to read part one.

Warning: Explicit Language, Mention of Drugs

Champagne showers your throat, its cool bubbles rippling inside you and all the way down your body. Your hips sway as you make your way through the tightly packed group of people. Laughter surrounds you as you re-join the dancing fray. A green-eyed model grabs you around the waist, his hands grabbing the thin material of your dress. The end of your dress dances over your high-heeled feet, you twist in the model’s arms and sway against him. Your back presses against him and he holds you tighter.

He whispers something in your ear, something or another about leaving with him to ‘fuck’ on the beach. You barely hear it over the music. Your eyes scanning over your friends that are sprawled around the room, all of them dressed in their finest threads. You would have taken him up on the offer, had it not been for the fact that you have been dating a particular Hollywood leading actor. You’d rather not have any outright fight at a party you’re enjoying because of ‘cheating’.

You move away from the model’s tight hold; you can almost hear his sigh. You dance over to a friend who beckons you to come with her to the bar. You gladly follow, reaching the bar takes a few minutes due to the crowd clambering over their drinks. You finally reach the bar; you lounge on the mirrored countertop. The barman approaches you, “Death in the Afternoon.” You wink at him, he smiles politely.

You turn and scan the room your eyes glazing the room, you catch sight of your date, hiding in a nook. He raises a glass to you, and you turn away from him. Drinking the sight of the partying people fills your stomach, many of them can’t help but stare at you, your presence like a diamond in the rough.

And there he is.

Your breath catches in your throat.

His arm draped across the shoulders of a tanned brunette; her eyes unmoving - glued to his. His lips ghost over hers, they way they used to do to your lips; giggles are whispered through her lips. Wearing a full suit with an undone bow tie strung around his neck - he looks like a drunken dream.

You want him.

He hasn’t noticed you. Or is pretending that he hasn’t.

It’s been six months since that night. You barely remember it; you were so intoxicated - on alcohol and Diazepam. An entirely irresponsible mixture, you try to pretend to yourself that you don’t know why you took what you did; but you know why. It was the only way that you had the courage to do what you did. Otherwise, you’d be with—

“One Death in the Afternoon.” The muscular barman places the crystal flute in front of you, you let a smirk grace your lips. If you weren’t in the same room as your date, you’d fuck him. But you’re trying to change.

You turn back in his direction, your friend also spots him, she promises that she’ll do everything to keep you guys apart. Your friends and family were informed of an amicable break-up with tears shed on both sides - by him. The media reported something similar - both PR teams sending well wishes to the other party and asking for privacy for those involved.

You weren’t aware of the amicable breakup until the email was forwarded to you by your PR head. You had blocked his number, but he had blocked you in every other way possible; you won’t pretend that it was unwarranted. Nor will you pretend that it didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t begin to imagine how much he was hurt.

You’ve done worse, but you don’t think you’ve ever done it to someone you actually loved.

You find yourself back in the folie of dancing, your dress billowing around your legs, its silky touch caressing your skin. You catch sight of the tanned brunette entering the dance floor; he’s following her, his hands toying with her waist.

They dance closely, his eyes roaming her body hungrily. You feel like vomiting. This isn’t fair. You close your eyes and knock your head back, willing the horrible sight away. The songs change twice before you open your eyes properly, your eyes immediately lower to where he is. Their lips are locked, their eyes shut off from the party, his hands dance on her arse.

You are most definitely going to throw up.

You rush away from the crowd, attracting concerned gazes, brushing off the offers of help, you finally manage to leave the house. You edge towards the pool and double over, you dry heave over the grass. You will the vomit up, but it is to no avail. You move away from the tennis style grass and make your way through the garden. Your walk leads you to the sea just beyond the expansive garden. The sky is a warm umber, the setting sun barely visible.

You don’t know how long you’ve been stood there, but you feel a presence behind you. You pray it’s not your date - demanding you keep him company.

You turn and feel your heart stop.

He looks beautiful. It’s the most undeniable beauty you’ve ever seen. He makes your heart throb.

Your heart swells, a feeling you’ve only ever felt once blanketing your heart.

Longing.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust someone so much ever again.” His voice is husky, his accent very noticeable. “I couldn’t figure out whether speaking to you would be a good idea, but I really wanted to understand,” he sighs deeply, his fingers whisking out a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket, “even a slither of your psyche.” He lights one cigarette and exhales.

You watch him intently but divert your gaze when he looks at you. “What do you mean?” You whisper. Your courage has left you, and your confidence has set itself on fire.

He nudges the cigarette towards you, “I know you’re more of a vogues girl, but you’re going to have to forgo that right now.” You take the offered cig and pop it in between your lips. It tastes of him somehow and you want to die. “I’ve been fucked up since I left Massachusetts, unbelievably so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.” He takes a tremulous breath.

You’re frozen. The cigarette needing to be ashed, he takes it from your fingers. He takes a swift inhalation. “I may have developed a mild dependency on alcohol… and on you. I can’t go to parties without thinking of you. I can’t get out of bed without thinking of you, I can’t breathe — without thinking of you.” His breathing is steady, his words stronger than the wind carried by the sea. You can’t breathe, his words taking the majority of your oxygen, he hands you back the cigarette.

“If I hadn’t done it then, you would have done it first.” You shiver with the cold breeze from the surf. If you could choose between kissing him or dissipating, you would choose to dissipate right into the sand.

His eyes flash across to you, his irises seething with anguish and droplets of anger. “It’s not a race, it never should be.” His hiss cuts across your chest, almost shattering your pearls. “I loved you, like I’ve never loved anyone.” His words make you look at him. The eyes that haunt your dreams are there, right there, less than a step away. The wind brushes his tendrils of golden hair across his face, he looks like a kaleidoscope manifested into flesh. “But I hate you now, in ways I have never hated someone.”

You feel like you’ve been stabbed in the neck.

You can feel a tear slip past your eyelashes, and you almost curse the skies. “That’s fine.” You choke quietly, your voice on the cusp of being drowned by the waves.

“I’ve moved on. I’m happy.” He sighs, he dashes the cigarette stub into the ocean, his hands going back into his pockets. His eyes don’t shift away from yours. “But you haunt me.” He looks away, towards the darkened horizon. “If I could choose between you dying or the Boston bomber - I would choose you.”

Your eyes widen with horror.

You’ve never been confronted with the pain you’ve caused. It’s never bothered you that men would desperately try to tarnish your image in salacious magazines. But this, this hurt you. Finally.

You can’t stop the tears now. You sink into the sand. The water washes against the borders of your legs. You choke a sob back.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is small and dejected.

“That’s alright.” He’s lit another cigarette. He sits down next to you, offering you a toke. You take it, peaking at him from under your eyelashes.

Looking up at him, you’re met with a longing gaze.

You’re going to wonder forever what’s possessed him, but his lips find yours. They’re the light at the end of the tunnel and following the path to it guarantees his survival.

The embrace is bittersweet, sprinkled with pleasant familiarity. The taste of smoke tendrils dances between your tongues. His fingers swim in your hair, greedily pulling you deeper into his kiss. You want to die in his arms, it would be indeed the heavenliest way to die. You grab his shirt and hold on for dear life, his wine-soaked tongue intoxicating you further. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids and you sink further into him.

He breaks away from the kiss. His eyes riddled with unspoken secrets.

He stands up, his hand extending towards you. Lifting you to your feet and taking your hand in his, he begins to sway with you to the muffled music coming from the house. His hand rests above your bum, comfortably leading you in this dance. You lean your head against his chest, inhaling the smell of cologne and Marlboro Reds. The smell that used to wake you up on holiday weekends. A tear slips from your eye, a manifestation of your longing and your need for him.

Why do hurt people, hurt people?

You recall the day your father left your mother for dead.

“Where’s mum going, daddy?” You look up at the towering figure of your father.

His stern gaze remains on the distressed woman being handcuffed to the gurney. He brushes off your question with a glare embalmed with stone. You gulp and return your stare to your screaming mother; you rush to her, but a paramedic stops you in your tracks. Your mothers begs your father to let her go, her cries echoing around the front garden. Her roses seemingly wilt in sympathy for their weeping creator. She screams and fights against the paramedics, your father doesn’t wait until the doors of the ambulance have been closed before he closes the front door.

You rush to the living room window, standing beyond the curtain with your face pressed against the glass, you watch your mother being driven away.

You’ll never see her again and never know where she took her last breaths; and you’ll be transferred to board at your school. You see your father annually and eventually he leaves you for retirement in South Africa, you’re alone and unloved.

So, you steal hearts so that your own can heal.

Chris breaks your dance, his hypnotising spell diluted by the distance imposed by his now hardened glare. He turns and leaves, his shadow furthering away from your own. You watch in astonishment as he leaves you, cigarette smoke billowing away from his receding figure.

You can’t help the stream that washes your cheekbones.

He’s done the impossible - broke you.

Part 3 -

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tellerluna-stories · 3 years

Text

ii. rex lapis

The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.

Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.

With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.

He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.

“My lord.”

Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”

Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.

“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”

“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”

He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”

He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”

“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”

“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”

“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”

He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.

“My friend...?”

Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.

“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”

Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.

The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.

Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”

“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”

“They haven’t....?”

But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”

“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”

He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.

“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”

“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”

To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.

“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”

———

“This is incredibly reckless.”

“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”

Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.

“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”

The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.

You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“

Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.

“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”

He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.

What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?

“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”

With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.

“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”

“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”

“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”

Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.

Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.

For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.

“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”

His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”

“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”

“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”

Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.

“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“

“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“

“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”

Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”

You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.

A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”

“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”

“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”

Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?

“So, is it good?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“

“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”

Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”

Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.

How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?

“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.

“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...

“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”

“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”

A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.

Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”

“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“

“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”

“How about—“

“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”

Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”

“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”

“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”

“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”

“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”

“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.

“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”

In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”

“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”

“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”

Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”

The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.

He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”

“...Oh.”

“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”

Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”

“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”

The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.

It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.

You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.

Not for your sake.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.

Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.

Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.

Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”

But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #this chapter was basically ‘how many times can i make them confess without actually confessing’#these idiots #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.tales: living treasure #pining #mutual pining

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visenyavires · 3 years

Text

Bleed Not For Death, But For Love

Chapter 3: Devotion, You Shall Have

Warning: Blood and sorta NSFW scene ahead!!!

I stare at myself in my vanity (like I had the time to) trying to figure out what to wear, how to do my hair, and honestly, how to compose myself. She called me “My Darling” in the letter she just left for me, rather than by my name. Maybe it was a new pet name? I honestly couldn’t tell, but I am freaking out on the inside about it. Did she pick up on my subtle hint of admiration I gave her in the Hall of Ablution? My mind is absolutely racing as I snap out of my dissociation trance and put on a plain, black, full-length dress, and pull my hair half up. I throw on some black heels that I bought in Italy as well and check to make sure I look presentable in the mirror. I pull a few wisps of hair down to frame my face elegantly and leave my chambers. It's about a 3-minute walk from my room to hers, but 2 if I speed walk. I walk quickly but also try to avoid being out of breath by the time I reach her chambers. “Draga Mea…,” her voice echoes in my mind as well as the image of her bathing in the thick, ruby liquid. I can’t stop thinking about it, I’m actually beginning to obsess over it.

I reach her chamber door and the smell of ambrosia and hand-rolled cigarettes reaches my nose. I take a deep breath in and savor the atmosphere it creates before I raise my hand to knock.

“Come in, dear,” I hear her coax from behind the door embossed with a large, golden house sigil. I open the door to see her standing at the balcony, a wine glass in one hand and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. She’s wearing a long, black gown very similar to the one she normally wears with red roses for her brooch that matches her scarlet lips. She is still wearing her iconic sun hat with the wide brim and her pearl necklace with her house sigil as the pendant. She takes a long drag from her cigarette and exhales slowly before turning and walking to the left to reveal a glass of red wine sitting on a small table, untouched as well as two chairs, one larger than the other.

“Have a seat,” she commands, but not harshly. I do as I’m told and she hands me the glass of wine. I make eye contact with her as she sits in the larger chair opposite me and she takes another drag from her cigarette before speaking.

“Do you know why I summoned you here tonight, Y/N?” She asked with that slight commanding tongue. She lets her hand with her cigarette hang loosely. I stifle a shudder, hoping I didn’t mess anything up.

“No, my Lady, I’m afraid I don’t,” I say as I look down at the wine glass I’m holding in my lap.

“As the Grand Chambermaid, there are some things you need to know,” she begins.

“First, you need to know that I have extremely high expectations, which is why no one here chose to step up to the position you have claimed. Second, you need to understand that these expectations are strict. There is very little room to change the order and manner I desire them to be done. Given that you had no time to prepare for today, yet you still exceeded those expectations, I want to reward you with some of my finest red blend.” She said, her tone softening only a little bit.

“I also wanted to make you aware that as my Grand Chambermaid, your orders come straight from me and no one else.” Her tone had a hint of darkness in it and made me wonder what happened at her meeting today.

“Even Mother Miranda?” I ask, hoping I didn’t step out of line. She takes a second to pause, clearly trying to make up her mind on if this is something she really wants to go through with.

“You are an outsider of the village, you do not need to take orders from her. I am the one paying your salary, so you are mine and mine alone,” she declares possessively.

“Yes my Lady, I shall only take orders from you,” I nod, keeping eye contact.

“That’s a good girl,” she purrs and leans back in her seat and crosses her legs, relaxing. I exhale silently, but heavily. She’s playing with me, I can feel it. I was so sure I was in trouble for a moment. I bring the wine glass to my nose and sniff the aged liquid before I take a sip. It’s possibly the best wine I’ve ever tasted. Her eyes are glued to me as I lower my glass and smile.

“This is divine, my Lady. I’ve never had anything quite like it.” I say, trying not to be too ecstatic about it.

“That’s because it’s my own blend,” she says, her chin tilting up and her eyes staying locked on me. She’s proud, and I’m impressed.

“There’s no blood in that specific blend. That is the kind I sell to mortals. My personal favorite is my Sanguis Virginis. It’s not for human consumption,” she states with a serious tone. I take another sip and sit back in my own chair, trying to mimic her body language.

“I didn’t know you ran a wine business, my Lady,” I say, indicating that I would like to hear more. She has kept her eyes on me the entire time, watching my every move. She ignores my invitation to talk more about it, she seems to have other plans.

“The other reason I summoned you here tonight is that I have a long-standing tradition with my willing Grand Chambermaids,” she says huskily. My breath catches as she draws one last drag from her cigarette before she leans forward to put it out. She takes a sip of her “wine” and relaxes in her seat again.

“You spoke earlier about devotion and loyalty. I want to know how far you’re willing to go,” she states with a hint of challenge in her tone. Now she’s testing me. She’s making it very obvious that she knows what I desire. I could only come up with one answer, and for once, my anxiety didn’t stop me from speaking.

“How far do you want me to go?” I asked, rather bravely. To this, she grins somewhat wickedly. Her golden eyes turn glassy and I suddenly realize… she’s hungry.

I stand and set my glass of wine down, my heart racing. I know she can sense it. She uncrosses her legs, sits at the edge of her chair, and reaches her gloved hand out for me to take. I slip her glove off to reveal an elegant hand with sharp, scarlet red nails. She turns her palm upward to grab my hand and pulls me between her legs up to the edge of the seat, her skirt is the only thing that separates me from her skin. I stand only a few inches taller than her seated form and her mouth is perfectly aligned with the middle of my neck. My heart pounds, her eyes fixate on my pulse point. Our faces are mere inches apart and she looks up slowly to meet my infatuated stare. I see thick desire meshed with hunger in her eyes, and I know she sees how much I want this.

She rests her gloved hand on the small of my back and watches herself caress my neck with her nails before returning her gaze up to mine. I get chills all over my body.

“Devotion, you shall have,” I say huskily. She grins and lets out a vocal sigh of pleasure, almost a laugh. I close my eyes as she takes a sharp nail and slices into my neck ever so slightly. I manage to suppress a wince as the sting takes over my skin. I gasp with pleasure as I feel her tongue lick up the pooling blood from the fresh cut. I hear a soft moan come from her throat as she presses her lips to my neck and she pulls me closer by the small of my back so that I’m leaning slightly backward. Her free hand slides over my shoulder blades and grabs the base of my neck to keep me still and close. She separates her lips from my skin only for a moment to speak in a deep, raspy tone.

“Devotion, I shall take, Draga Mea,” she says seductively and sinks her teeth into the open cut she created. I gasp at the sensation, which excites her and she pulls me closer so that I am now flush against her body. She’s leaning forward into me while pulling me close, her strong arms hold me effortlessly in a position where I am slightly reclined and practically sitting on her thigh. My body curves perfectly around her breasts and I can feel her throat pulsing against my chest as she drinks. She lets out a deep moan of pure pleasure like she hasn’t experienced this sensation in a long time. She holds me impossibly close and I feel a rush of euphoria, enough that I feel one hand run through her raven curls, the other hand slide to the back of her neck, and my leg that's furthest from the chair lifts to wrap around her waist. This only excites her more and she tightens her grip and sinks her teeth deeper. I let out an involuntary moan combined with a sigh and tilt my head back, in my own world of bliss. I realize this was all I’ve ever truly wanted, and I finally have it.

……….

A few moments later, my head begins to feel light and as if she could sense it, she slows down and reluctantly separates her lips from my neck as if it pains her. She lets out a gasp like she forgot to breathe the entire time and I know she’s dying to go back in for more. But instead, she looks down at me and tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, and gives me a divine, scarlet grin.

“My, my, Draga Mea, you are the best I’ve tasted in ages. You are pure încântare,” she purrs with a touch of adoration as she sits me up to blot her mouth with her handkerchief. I meet her gaze and smile lightly, happy that I was able to please her. She notices I’m light-headed and effortlessly lifts me with one arm under my knees and the other around my back. With her long strides, it’s a matter of seconds before we reach her bed, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. She sets me down gently and lights a candle beside me. She closes the doors and heavy curtains to the balcony to block out the sun that’s about to rise and removes her hat and jewelry. She then lays next to me with a handkerchief and blots the open wound on my neck dry as she hums an unfamiliar tune. I close my eyes and succumb to sleep, that tune fading more and more with each passing second.

……….

I wake up a few hours later tucked into my own bed, my hair taken down and brushed, my shoes neatly placed by my bed, but I’m still in my gown from the night prior. I know I have several hours left to sleep before I have to be up for work but I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I touch my neck to feel the marks she left behind and I smile widely. It wasn’t a dream.

Tomorrow, I am to meet her at dusk once more to help with her daily soak. Her daughters also requested my presence at midnight, what exactly for remains unknown. The last time I saw them was when I first arrived, so I wonder what scheme they’ve spent the whole night cooking up. But I won’t lie to myself, the impending conversation I’m to have with Lady Dimitrescu in a few hours is one I’m extremely nervous but excited to have. If I wasn’t infatuated before, I certainly am now, and now I can show it a little more openly.

I roll over in bed and see something sitting on the table in front of the fireplace. I have come to adore the mysteriously delivered items she leaves for me. I sit up but immediately get dizzy. There is a fresh glass of water sitting on my nightstand. Alcina Dimitrescu… I would’ve never taken her for the type to care for you after intimacy. I drink almost the whole glass and then try to stand. I’m able to walk to the table to reach the bottle of wine she had opened just for me. Beside it was yet another note written in perfect cursive.

“Draga Mea,

Here’s some wine to fill that glass you love so much. It pained me that you didn’t get to finish your treat. Rest while you can, I’ll see you at dusk in the Hall of Ablution.

Întotdeauna a ta,

- Alcina”

“Always yours” signed with just “Alcina.” Her signature was informal. She’s beginning to get comfortable with me. I’m shocked and extremely flattered. I know that Grand Chambermaids are supposed to be close with their Ladies, but she had no hesitation or fear. She simply was and I adore her for that. I wonder what she has planned in the Hall of Ablution and what all will be said.

I uncork the wine and inhale deeply, all the memories flooding back to me. I smile with pure contentment, close the bottle, and walk back to bed. The only reason I’m able to fall back to sleep is because I know it will help the time pass faster before I can see her again in a few hours. I play the tune she hummed to me over in my head until I drift into a dreamless sleep, only to be startled awake by distant, mischievous giggling, and it seems to be getting closer…

To be continued...

***** STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 4, THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS ONLY BEGINNING >:) COMMENT BELOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST*****

Next: Chapter 4: Dangerous Game

Previous: Chapter 2: My First Day

#alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 fanfic #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 village

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 3

A/N: seablings headcanon? seablings headcanon. (i adore jimmy and lizzie's dynamic, they're siblings ur honor. and joel makes a pretty great in-law tbh)

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Katherine was extremely serious about the “no weapons” thing. Not a single tool was allowed, not even shovels or hoes. She had everyone place their weapons and tools in specifically marked chests, assuring each of them that they could get them back after the meeting, and that her iron golems would protect them from any threats if they were to arise. Besides, the chests were just at the entrance of her castle, visible from the meeting table. They could easily rush to their weapons if need be. It didn’t mean anyone was less jumpy about it, though. And Jimmy was particularly antsy- Fwhip was practically glowering at the table, and while Sausage looked outwardly cheerful, there was an edge to every word he spoke. Jimmy couldn’t fight the paranoia that one or both of them had snuck weapons to the meeting, and was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly shifty about the winged elf, but… there was definitely… something. Jimmy wasn’t sure what it was, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Scott. He was perfectly poised, as always, every hair in place and wings mantled. There was something elegant and serene about Scott as he listened to Katherine speak with a gentle smile. His gaze was focused on her, and Jimmy tried to search those icy blue eyes for any hint of malice. He found nothing but kindness, and that was what worried him. Surely Scott should be up to something… right? He had seemed so hostile the other day, but then they both apologized to each other… maybe he had nothing to worry about. But then there was that strange, soft yet calculating look he had given Jimmy, like he could finally start seeing the complete picture a puzzle would make. Was that something bad?

Jimmy’s thoughts were interrupted by Scott’s eyes suddenly meeting his, one eyebrow raised. Jimmy tried his best not to jump as he quickly looked away, focusing on Katherine. He could still feel Scott’s eyes on him, and absurdly, Jimmy felt like he was melting. Figures that Scott would have secret laser eyes or something. He wouldn’t even need a weapon, that was his plan all along. Surely that’s why Jimmy felt like he was going to implode, he definitely wasn’t embarrassed. Definitely. Thankfully, Scott’s eyes shifted away as Katherine spoke again.

“Now, there is one very important thing I wanted to discuss at this meeting. I don’t know if any of you have heard, but there are some new empires rising up. I think we should do our best to welcome the new rulers,” Katherine said. For the first time in the whole meeting, Fwhip looked interested. Somehow that scared Jimmy more than when he was grumpy and despondent.

“What would you suggest?” Fwhip asked, voice smooth and suspiciously charming. Jimmy didn’t like his tone one bit, but Katherine seemed to fall for it, beaming at Fwhip’s sudden interest.

“I would like to hold the first ever House Blossom Ball. All rulers will be invited, and it will be held in honor of the two new empires in our lands,” she explained.

“Oh that sounds wonderful!” Gem exclaimed, and excited murmurs of agreement circled through the room. But Jimmy felt uneasy. He did like the idea of a ball, dancing and dressing up fancy with friends sounded fun! But Fwhip’s excitement didn’t sit quite right with him, and there was the other issue of the two new empires. How did they know they could really trust them? Establishing a good relationship was important, yes, but was inviting them in so openly the best idea? Jimmy had tried being so open before, but look where that got him. A war over a disc, and a ravine on the outskirts of his empire. And now whatever was happening between him and Scott. Then suddenly, as if just thinking of him prompted him to speak, Scott brought up one of the very things that Jimmy was worried about.

“What do we know about these empires? Do you think we can trust them?” he asked. The excited murmurs stopped, something uneasy settling in the air instead. Katherine faltered for a moment, but kept her head high.

“The House Blossom Ball will hold the same rule as our meetings now do: no weapons. So unwarranted attacks will not be an issue. And not a lot is known about the other empires… they are just starting out, after all. One of them is in the jungle, and his empire can only be found if you are lost. The other empire seems to have sprouted up from nowhere, but its ruler has come a long way to settle here. In a way, both are lost. As the ten ruling powers in this land, I think it is our duty to welcome them so that they won’t have to be lost anymore,” Katherine said firmly.

“Poetic,” Fwhip said, voice a little overly saccharine for Jimmy’s liking. Katherine seemed a little put off by his tone as well, but didn’t comment on it. A determined frown came to Jimmy’s face. His skepticism be damned, he was going to support Katherine. He turned to her and smiled, reaching out to gently clasp Katherine’s hand, not unlike how she had after the last meeting.

“I agree with you, Katherine. Let’s help them be found,” Jimmy said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go. Katherine smiled at the touch, seeming grateful that Jimmy backed her up.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Jimmy,” Scott said dryly. Jimmy looked to Scott in surprise, expecting more of a fight, some clever retort or thought-out reason for why the ball couldn’t happen.

“Thank you, Scott,” Jimmy said, unable to keep a small smile off of his face. Scott’s nose scrunched up in irritation- and yup, there was the Scott he knew. Always looking at Jimmy with disdain or irritation.

“I was more supporting Katherine here than anything else,” Scott pointed out with a huff.

“But you specifically mentioned me…” Jimmy trailed off with a teasing grin. Scott’s cheeks tinted pink, just ever so slightly- but he still glared at Jimmy in frustration.

“Shut up,” he muttered. Jimmy grinned wider.

“Make me,” he teased, parroting Scott’s words from the last meeting. Sausage gasped, excitedly tapping Pearl’s arm as she shushed him and muttered something about how we had talked about this, Sausage.

“Well… we definitely have two supporters of the ball, any other thoughts?” Katherine asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

“I am absolutely in support, it sounds fun!” Gem replied, elbowing Fwhip. He jumped, and nodded in agreement.

“If Scott and Jimmy are going to be there, I definitely want to see what goes down,” Sausage chimed in with a grin. Scott and Jimmy both made an offended sound, but Pearl spoke up before either of them could say anything.

“And it’s a good diplomatic foot forward with the two new empires, Sausage. I think the ball is a lovely idea, Katherine,” Pearl said, offering an apologetic smile to both Scott and Jimmy for Sausage’s comment.

“I’m in too! I’d love a chance to dress all fancy and dance with Joel,” Lizzie added, linking arms with Joel and gazing up at him with a charming smile. Joel blushed a bit, and nodded his agreement as well.

“Well, since it seems like everyone else is going to this dance, guess I’d better show up too,” Pixl said with a nonchalant shrug and a grin. Katherine clapped her hands in excitement.

“Oh wonderful! I think I’ll cut this meeting short then, I have a lot of preparations to take care of, and I will send out the invitations soon!” Katherine said, rising from the table. The other rulers followed her lead, each of them bidding her goodbye before they went to their respective chests to retrieve their weapons and tools.

“I look forward to the ball, Katherine. I’m sure it’ll be a blast,” Fwhip said with a bow of his head and a cocky grin. Katherine beamed in response.

“Thank you! I’m glad to see you’re excited!” she replied, bowing her head to Fwhip as well. Jimmy still wasn’t sure how he felt about Fwhip’s sudden interest at the meeting… but then again Fwhip was only really Jimmy’s enemy. He and Katherine were on good terms, after all. He should trust Katherine’s judgement, even if he didn’t like Fwhip. He did, however, wait until Fwhip left to walk up to Katherine and bid her goodbye.

“See you later, Katherine! I’m excited for the ball, I’m sure with you in charge it will go great!” he said with a grin. Katherine laughed, blushing slightly.

“Aw, thanks Jimmy! And who knows, maybe the ball will not only forge new alliances with the new empires, but will strengthen or fix the bonds of the current ones,” Katherine said, glancing pointedly at Scott, whose back was to them as he looked over his weapons, before she looked back at Jimmy. She smiled not-so-innocently, and Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“I- well, I dunno about that. But… maybe. Today’s meeting didn’t go too bad, right?” Jimmy asked with a hopeful smile. Katherine giggled.

“Right! You guys are really turning a corner here, I can feel it!” she chirped. Jimmy laughed, shaking his head.

“Whatever you say, Katherine. I’ll be off now,” Jimmy said, bowing his head.

“Bye!” Katherine replied, bowing her head too and offering a little wave as Jimmy left. He waved back, and was still smiling to himself as he met Joel and Lizzie outside. The two of them had their elytra on, and there was a smug grin on Lizzie’s face that Jimmy didn’t like one bit.

“What’s that smile for?” Jimmy asked with a laugh as he equipped his elytra.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how you couldn’t contribute anything to the first half of the meeting because you were making eyes at a certain elf,” Lizzie said with a teasing lilt.

“I wasn’t ‘making eyes,’ I was making sure that he wasn’t up to anything!” Jimmy spluttered.

“Sure you were,” Lizzie crooned, taking off before Jimmy got a chance to respond. Joel sighed, smiling sympathetically at him before following after Lizzie. Jimmy took off too, the conversation far from over, in his opinion.

Jimmy wasn’t quite fast enough to keep up with Lizzie, but she and Joel waited for him on the dock outside of his house. The three of them had often hung out and chatted on the dock, long before Joel and Lizzie had gotten married or even began courting. Their empires had been much smaller then, but the bond between the three of them hadn’t changed. Which was why Jimmy was (affectionately) furious with Lizzie for implying something about himself and Scott. He sat down beside her, feet dangling over the water.

“Explain yourself, right now,” Jimmy huffed, trying to put on an angry act but couldn’t really keep it up with Lizzie. She smiled far too innocently at him, and okay. Maybe he could manage a frustrated expression pointed at her.

“I mean, she’s got a point. Plus I heard about that uh- scuffle, you two had,” Joel said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned forward to look past Lizzie at Jimmy.

“Ooh yeah, Katherine did tell us about that. You’d better watch out for those land boys, Jimmy. They’re trouble,” Lizzie said with a mock-concerned tone, but her playful grin gave her away. Joel shifted to look at Lizzie with an offended noise.

“Babe, I’m right here,” he said, near pouting.

“I know what I said. You’re trouble, King of Mezalea,” Lizzie teased.

“Like you’re any better, Ocean Queen,” Joel replied with a laugh. Lizzie giggled, playfully swatting at Joel's arm.

"You may be right, but this is about Jimmy’s troublesome land boy," Lizzie pointed out as she turned back to Jimmy.

"He's not my land boy!" he protested, face heating up slightly.

"Aww, that blush says otherwise!" Lizzie teased.

“He could be your land boy if you weren’t so busy trying to kill each other,” Joel chimed in.

“That’s exactly why he’s never gonna be ‘mine,’ he hates me, and I hate him! There’s nothing else going on!” Jimmy protested.

“Are you sure you two hate each other? You seemed pretty friendly at the meeting today,” Joel pointed out, voice a bit more gentle than the teasing tone it had been before. Jimmy sighed.

“That’s only cause Katherine insisted on us apologizing to each other when we uh. Fought. We’re only playing nice for Katherine’s sake,” Jimmy said sheepishly.

“Uh huh. Or you’re playing nice because you think Scott is pretty,” Lizzie teased, elbowing Jimmy playfully.

“I don’t think he’s pretty! I- I mean objectively he looks nice I guess but it’s more irritating than anything! How can a guy be so perfectly poised and elegant all the time, it’s annoying!” Jimmy spluttered. Joel and Lizzie exchanged amused, bewildered looks before looking back at Jimmy.

“Wow, you really do have it bad for him, huh,” Joel commented with a disbelieving laugh. Jimmy made an offended sound, opening his mouth to retort but was halted by Lizzie patting his arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay Jimmy, I’m sure Scott will come around and see what a sweet swamp boy you are,” she crooned, Jimmy flushing at the childhood nickname Lizzie always used for him.

“You two are impossible, nothing’s going to happen between us! And I’d prefer it that way!” Jimmy shot back with a frown.

“Methinks the cod boy protests too much,” Joel said dryly.

“I’m the Codfather, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed.

“Hey, maybe if things work out really well, you’ll be a Codhusband,” Lizzie replied with a sly grin. Jimmy buried his face in his hands, trying to hide how bright red he was.

“Stop iiiit,” he whined. Lizzie only laughed, but threw an arm around his shoulders to give a small hug in apology. Joel reached around Lizzie to pat Jimmy’s back, and despite the teasing he had endured from them, Jimmy felt pleasantly warm and comforted all the same. Although to be fair, Joel and Lizzie always playfully teased him. But it would often end like this, the three of them nestled close together on the edge of the dock, watching the sun set over the water.

Taglists below! Ask to be added or removed!!

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#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #katherine elizabeth #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #fwhip #mythicalsausage #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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jayeray-hq · 3 years

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How He Shows You Affection: Sugawara Koushi

Requested by the wonderful @lavenderpup sorry it took so long! I took a hiatus for a while, but I hope you still enjoy it! 😊💖

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: Slightest itty bit of hinted NSFW!

How He Shows You Affection Master List - Character Masterlist

He Rubs Your Cheeks Together

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” you told the group, as you hurried up to them, “The trains were running behind schedule!”

“Don’t worry,” Kiyoko assured you, a kind smile on her pretty face, “You’re not the last one to arrive.”

“Is Koushi not here yet?” you asked glancing around the group. This was meant to be a reunion of the third years from the Karasuno volleyball team, but considering Kiyoko was engaged to Tanaka, and Asahi was dating Nishinoya, it had turned into more of a second- and third-years thing.

A familiar pair of arms around your waist answered your question as you were tugged into a firm chest, your boyfriend’s face rubbing up affectionately against yours as he asked teasingly, “Are you gossiping about me already, honey?”

Tanaka, who’d been standing surprisingly quietly next to Kiyoko politely holding her hand looked utterly scandalized at the display of public affection. If he was a sixties housewife he definitely would’ve been clutching at his pearls, though Kiyoko just looked amused and fond.

You’d grown used to how affectionate your boyfriend was, even in public and didn’t even blush nowadays, which always made him whine a bit, claiming he missed the good old days where you got flustered and stuttered every time he did it. However, you knew he didn’t actually mind given the smitten look he gave you every time you melted into his hold instead of stiffening up the way you used to.

His favorite move, and the one he almost always used to greet you was wrapping you into a hug from behind and nuzzling his face against yours, rubbing your cheeks together in a sweet affectionate gesture that never failed to make you melt.

You’d been a little self-conscious about it at first, especially since you’d gotten a lot of scandalized looks like Tanaka’s given Japan’s views on public displays of affection. However, the few times someone had actually said something about it, somehow your boyfriend had talked circles around them, and in the end, you’d get away with it, sometimes even getting fond looks instead.

A good example of this was your landlady, who’d glared and sniffed every time she’d seen the two of you when you’d first moved in. One conversation with Sugawara later and she’d changed her tune, claiming the two of you reminded her of her and her husband back in the day. Now you got fond looks, indulgent smiles and even cookies from time to time. She even went so far as to scold others who looked sideways at the two of you.

It was completely and utterly ridiculous, something you’d commiserated on with the other third years more than once. According to Kiyoko, Sugawara just had one of those faces that let him get away with anything. Given that she also had one of those faces you took her word for it, and for the most part let him do as he pleased, though you did try to stop if it looked like someone was genuinely uncomfortable.

“Koushi,” you scolded lightly, “You’re upsetting your kouhai.”

“Eh, he needs to toughen up some,” Sugawara told you, snickering slightly at Tanaka’s expression, though he did let go of you after one last affectionate rub and instead laced his fingers together with yours offering you an affectionate smile, “Especially if he’s going to do a good job taking care of Shimizu.”

“Suga-senpai!” Tanaka protested as Kiyoko giggled into her hand.

“Koushi, you know Shimizu doesn’t need him to take care of her, if anything it’s going to be her taking care of him,” you teased lightly, making your boyfriend and Kiyoko both laugh brightly.

“Your girlfriend is just as bad as you are,” Tanaka informed your boyfriend, though there was a definite smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I know,” Sugawara said, clear pride in his voice as he pressed an affectionate smacking kiss to your cheek, “Isn’t she just the best?”

“Really Suga, you shouldn’t tease our kouhai so much,” Daichi intervened, though he also looked incredibly amused by the whole exchange.

“Tanaka makes it too easy,” your boyfriend told him with a shrug, “Besides someone’s got to give him a hard time now that Kiyoko’s given in to him, that and none of the other second years are nearly as fun.”

“Speaking of second years, where are Nishinoya and Asahi?” you asked, chiming in to save Tanaka from Sugawara’s ruthless teasing as you finally realized who was missing from the group.

“We’re here!” A familiar voice called, and you turned just in time to see the rather comical sight of Nishinoya tugging Asahi down the street by his hand, practically dragging the larger man behind him, “Sorry we’re late we got distracted!”

“We can see that,” Sugawara stated dryly, his eyes tracing over their clearly rumpled and hastily put together appearances, “Asahi, just what have you been doing with our precious kouhai?”

The long haired third year immediately began to splutter as Nishinoya laughed loudly, clearly unbothered at the implication. The group of you set off together, headed for dinner, all of you laughing and smiling as your boyfriend teased his newest victim, with Sugawara’s fingers laced affectionately with yours, refusing to lose contact for even a second as you went about your night.

He Tells You He Cares

“Have a good day at school, and say hi to your class for me,” you told your boyfriend as you casually straightened his tie, and pressed a quick kiss to his waiting lips.

“I will,” he assured you with a bright smile as he scooped up his suitcase though he paused in the doorway to turn back and tell you, “I love you!”

“I love you too,” you assured him with a soft smile, watching as he walked out the door with a cheerful bounce in his step.

It was a routine that the two of you completed every morning almost without fail, and even when you couldn’t Sugawara always made it a point to tell you he loved you before he left to go anywhere. Even if you were asleep or he thought you were sleeping he’d still press a tender kiss to your forehead or cheek and whisper how much he loved you before walking out the door.

With so many repetitions and routine you’d think the words would lose their meaning, just a ritual part of your day with no thought or true emotion behind them. However, it simply wasn’t true.

You’d asked your boyfriend before why he insisted on saying it so often, you’d been curious, especially since Japanese culture didn’t put a large emphasis on saying the words out loud the way other cultures did.

As a teacher your boyfriend was incredibly articulate and usually able to express himself incredibly well. When you’d asked though he’d seemed to struggle to find the right words. He had gotten very thoughtful, and told you that it was because he wanted to remind both of you that at the end of the day he loved you no matter what was happening in your lives.

You’d been a bit confused about his reasoning at the time, and a little unhappy as well. You could understand maybe needing to remind you that he loved you, he shouldn’t need to remind himself that he loved you right? It just hadn’t made sense, and your boyfriend wasn’t able to properly explain, just insisted that it was important to him. You certainly hadn’t minded, and so figured there wasn’t any harm in it even if you didn’t understand.

You kept that mindset right up until your first fight as a couple after you’d moved in together. Sugawara had headed for the door to leave for a while to clear his head and let both of you calm down. However, he’d paused in the doorway and looked back to tell you he loved you.

It had taken away all the sting of him leaving for a bit, and reminded you that not only did he love you, you loved him too, and at the end of the day that was what mattered most, not whatever petty thing you’d been arguing about. The reminder was enough to help soothe you into a better frame of mind for when he returned. The two of you had been able to resolve your fight calmly and rationally after that, with apologies and ‘I love you’s on both sides.

His words about it being a reminder had clicked for you then, and from that point on you made it a point to tell him you loved him before you left too, something that never failed to make him beam at you, warm and full of affection.

It helped that you’d both promised that if ever there was a day when you didn’t actually mean the words that you wouldn’t say them at all. However you were rather almost certain that day would never come. You couldn’t imagine someone better suited to you than Sugawara who reminded you each and every how very much he loved you, and how much you loved him too.

He Surprises You

The sound of someone knocking at the front door pulled you away from the mindless scrolling you’d been doing on your phone and prompted you to pull yourself up from the couch, confused about who might be interrupting you on your day off. Your normal suspect would’ve been your boyfriend, but not only did he have a key, he was at school much to your mutual disappointment. However the day off had been unexpected, so he hadn’t been able to take a vacation day in advance and was not so irresponsible that he would call in sick when he wasn’t. He loved the kids too much for that.

It turned out you probably should’ve continued to suspect your boyfriend, as he was the culprit behind the interruption, if not the culprit himself. The delivery guy kindly passed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, just the sight of them bringing a smile to your face as you signed for them, and then brought them into the kitchen where you could admire them.

The bouquet came with a handwritten note that read…

I hope you’re enjoying your day off! When I get home, let’s go on a date okay?

Love,

Koushi

You smiled a little helplessly at the familiar writing, realizing your boyfriend must’ve stopped by the shop personally to pick something out and leave a note for you to read. Your heart felt close to overflowing with affection for him as you snapped a quick picture of your flowers and sent him a quick text to thank him and that it was a definite yes to date night.

Your boyfriend had always been a thoughtful person, but sometimes it still caught you by surprise just how thoughtful he truly was. Sugawara liked to surprise people, and he’d told you once that sweet surprises were the best kind. Looking at your flowers you couldn’t help but agree with him.

He was always doing things like this for you, sending your favorite flowers, making you a cute lunch, buying something small that had reminded him of you and bringing it home as a gift. It never failed to make you feel soft, especially since it proved that he was always thinking of you. You loved it, though you’d told him more than once he was spoiling you.

Sugawara had just shrugged at the accusation and sent you one of his beaming smiles, the kind that never failed to make your heart flip over in your chest, and told you, you deserved to be spoiled. It made you want to spoil him too, the look on his face always worth it when you took time out of your day to make or buy something for him.

With that in mind you quietly began to plan a surprise or two of your own, your previously rather boring, if productive day brightening as you daydreamed about the things you’d like to do for your sweet boyfriend, coming up with several interesting ideas. Time practically flew by, and before you knew it, it was getting close to the time school was letting out.

Carefully you snagged one of the pretty blooms from the bouquet you’d been sent, and tucked it behind your ear, grabbing your things as you practically danced out the door. Sugawara was right after all, pleasant surprises were the best, and you were going to start by picking him up from school. You couldn’t wait to get started on all your ideas, hoping you could make Sugawara feel just as loved as he always did for you.

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colossalcriminal · 3 years

Text

Uptown Girl - s.r

Pairing: 40s!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: 25 year old Steve Rogers finds himself infatuated with the well off 18 year old girl who gets Howard Stark coffee.

Warnings: Smoking, alcohol consumption and character death. Not proofread and bad writing.

He'd seen her around plenty, hell, he knew her. Almost always gliding through the streets in the most beautiful designer dresses, sometimes with another girl, arms clad in shopping bags from some of the greatest fashion houses. She also had a knack for wearing trousers that accentuated her legs, always receiving a flustered reaction from the men around her.

It was no doubt she was stunning, perhaps the prettiest girl he'd ever seen in his short 24 years of living. Bucky had always teased him relentlessly, encouraging his best friend to 'snatch her up before someone else does.'

It was a regular occurrence for him to be saved in an alleyway by the sergeant, especially when Steve Rogers didn't know when to back down, or how to. It was only when he showed Steve the newspaper he noticed her figure further down the alley, puffs of smoke leaving her lips.

Steve Rogers found it hard to understand how someone as beautiful as her could commit to an ugly act such as smoking. He was ashamed to admit that the nasty habit hadn't once dwindled his infatuation towards her. "Hey, Y/N!" Bucky called out, gaining her attention. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

Y/N sauntered over to the men with her signature dazzling smile, lips painted in the most ravishing shade of red that'd printed onto the cigarette that rested between her fingers. "Howard's got me off early." She gasped, instantly putting the cigarette out. "Sorry, Steve. I almost forgot I shouldn't light one around you."

Steve's smile reeked with nerves. "It's okay." He stuttered.

"So, he's Howard now?" Bucky nudged her.

She rolled her eyes, resting a hand on her hip. "Put a cap on it, Barnes. Anyways, where are you boys off to?"

"Your boss' expo." He displayed the paper to her, pointing to the large ad.

With a small nod, her attention was back on the skinny boy. "Picking me up, Steve?"

Waking up from his day dream, finally in the headspace to speak to the magnificent woman before him, his nod was quick. "Huh? Oh, yes. Definitely."

"I'll see you later tonight at 6pm sharp, then. Bye." She grinned at the blonde, waving as she proceeded to walk away.

"Bye, Y/N." His reply was too quiet to hear as she was too far away, but the butterflies in his stomach didn't care for that. Sighing at Bucky's light chuckles, he shook his head, mentally scolding himself for the awkward interaction.

"At least you got a date."

"Yeah," He whispered to himself, almost impressed. "at least I got a date."

6:01pm his watch read as he stood before the house - mansion - nervous creeping up the back of his spine, the large house looming over him as if he were in a nightmare.

And it was the exact time she popped her head out of her bedroom window signaling to Steve. "Just wait a minute! Dad's home, so I have to escape!" She whisper-yelled.

He'd gotten a glance of her frock. His heart pounding at the view of her hair curled into perfect ringlets, makeup even more accentuating than it was earlier that day. He watched her disappear, before quietly slipping through the front door and making her way to him. "Sorry, he doesn't like me being out in the evening."

"Well, I can understand with a beautiful dame like you, sorry woman, not dame. Young woman."

Y/N giggled at his ramble. "You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" Steve smiled bashfully at her lightheartedness. "It's alright, not like I'm anyone important."

He cocked his head inquisitively. "And what do you mean by that?"

Sighing, she looped her arm through his, an action that sent his vision loopy as he inwardly cheered. "I mean, I'm just a girl with big dreams who spends daddy's money and gets coffee for Howard Stark. Nothing big."

Steve maintained his unfazed exterior, resisting the urge to stare down at their linked arms. "Tell me about these big dreams."

"I want to be a scientist, well, more of a techy one like Howard is. The idea of flying cars within a few years is so, invigorating!" She beamed. "Don't you think?"

He smiled at her, nodding. "Well, I hope you'll be around to fly our first car, considering you're so insistent on enlisting."

"Bucky thinks I can't do it, that's why they keep rejecting me."

Y/N hummed, lips curling into a small pout. "I think you could do it," He perked up at this. "you could. But just because you can, doesn't mean you should, Steve."

Before he could respond, they'd already been greeted and called over from afar by Bucky.

Y/N didn't let herself feel too downhearted when Stark's flying car show failed, but she did find herself frowning when she followed Steve to the recruitment booth.

She pulled him towards her, Bucky not far off. "Come on, soldier." She joked. "Take me dancing."

"You go ahead, I'll catch up."

Guilt had presented itself to Steve on a silver platter when he saw her shoulders drop. "You're really going to do this again?" Bucky deadpanned, unimpressed.

"I'll leave you guys to talk it out. Meet me there?" The blonde nodded, missing her small wave as she departed.

An hour and 49 minutes later she found herself walking home alone, rubbing her arms in an attempt to abandon any feeling of cold, or even worse, loneliness.

It was 2 days later when Steve finally caught her leaving her office, cigarette in hand. He couldn't help it when he gazed at the pearl earrings she wore, framing her face so perfectly, accompanied by the stray hairs that'd escaped her updo.

"Y/N!"

His voice had only expanded her annoyance as she watched the smoke exit her mouth, ignoring his calls. "Go away, Rogers."

He panted, finally catching up to her. "I'm sorry, I really am."

"What for? The fact that you ditched me on our date or that you went radio silent for 2 days?"

He pursed his lips, closing his eyes in regret. "Please, let me take you out again before I start training?"

Y/N let out a dry chuckle. "Congrats." She put out her cigarette, still mindful of the blond's asthma. "That's not the point, Steve. I wanted to go out with you because I like you! Because you're different! But it turns out I was wrong. So, good luck in training, I'm sure you'll do great. If you're alive by the end of the war, come find me."

"Please, Y/N. I really, really like you."

She'd already began walking away. "You should've thought about that before you asked to get yourself killed."

Without much thought, Steve reached forward, wrapping his fingers around her wrist as soft as possible, the surprise on her face echoed onto his own. "And what if I don't die?"

Scoffing, she shook her head. "You sound so certain."

"Because I am."

"I will not wait for you to come home and receive a letter explaining your death instead."

"Deal."

With a peculiar brow, Y/N sighed. "Where are we going then, Mr. Rogers?"

His lips spread into a beautiful grin. "Anywhere you want, Ms. L/N."

They'd spent 3 full days together before Steve began training.

The first day was spent at and around the theatre, watching as many movies as possible and eating as much popcorn as one can.

The second day, he made it up to her by taking her dancing. Y/N took the time to teach him how to waltz, giggling every time he stepped on her shoes.

The third day was spent at his home, alone. Away from the crowded atmosphere of her house, she taught him how to cook the simplest of dishes, making sure he knew how to feed himself incase no one else did.

It was hard for her not to get teary eyed as Y/N layed her hands on his cheeks, cupping his face daintily. Steve leaned into the soft touch, corners of his mouth tugging downwards. "So, I guess this is goodbye."

"Yeah, it is." He whispered, eyes staring into hers with utmost intensity, a false reality in his head tricking him into believing he wouldn't have to leave her if their eyes never broke contact.

"You better make it back to me, Rogers."

"Of course I will, Y/N."

The grief had already sunk in her, the feeling in her belly so overwhelming, heart fluttering violently as she pulled him to her, lips touching so softly. Steve didn't freeze like he thought he would- he didn't have time to freeze. He did his best, pulling her closer and kissing him back with the most confidence he could muster.

Y/N's smile was almost minuscule when they pulled away, hands moving down to grip onto his uniform, her head in a lovesick daze. "How could I not make it back to you?"

"Well, I am your best girl."

He quirked an eyebrow. "My only girl."

"We'll see about that when you come home a war hero. All the ladies would drop down to your feet."

"All the women in the world and I'd still choose you."

Returning home, she closed the front door quietly, making her way to the living room to find her father engrossed in the small tv box. "Hi." She spoke quietly, hoping not to disturb him as she kissed his cheek, hoping to walk away.

"Sit." Y/N's father offered her the seat next to him, never taking his eyes off the program as she sunk into the sofa, her frock filling out around her. "Lowell's been talking a lot."

She stiffened slightly, subconsciously crossing her legs and straightening her shoulders. "Oh, you know not to listen to Lowell. All he does is gossip. Him and his wife, vultures they are."

"He tells me you've been spending a lot of time with Sarah's boy, Steve."

"Yes, I have. He just recently went off to train."

He finally looked at her. "You scared?"

"A little."

"Then it's a mistake."

Y/N's face was blank as she fiddled with her fingernails and stared off into the distance. "I know."

Her father shook his head. "Then you'll know to break it off."

"No, I won't." He looked perplexed at her reply. "Because it may be a mistake now, he may die any day, but at least I'd gotten the chance to be with him."

He only huffed, muttering something along the lines of "Childish."

She decided to change the subject, not wanting the conversation to sour even more. "Where's Eliza?"

"She's out."

"What are we watching?"

"The Mark of Zorro."

"Can we watch something else? Sullivan's Travels is on."

"No."

"I'll be in my room then."

"Fine."

She stood, getting one last glimpse of her father. "You know daddy, I do love him. And who knows? Maybe he'll survive. Maybe we'll get married and live a happily ever after. If that does happen, I hope you'll be happy for me."

She knew they were selecting the 'lucky' one to be titled 'super soldier.' She'd been working alongside Howard, the older man curious of her expertise for an 18 year old but nonetheless grateful for her help.

Y/N certainly didn't expect Steve to walk through the doors of the laboratory, accompanied by Peggy Carter. "Jesus Christ, Steve." She gasped, embracing him.

He wrapped his arms around her, concern growing when the smallest patch of tears had formed on his t-shirt. He watched as she pulled away. "Hi." Steve greeted.

"Oh, hi." She chuckled through tears. "I'm sorry, go talk to Erskine and we'll chat later." His hands lingered on her, before he slowly nodded, doing as told.

Minutes later, her fear only grew as he layed down in what she called the pod. "Comfortable?" She queried.

"It's a little big." He commented. Y/N graced him with her smile, a real, but concerned smile. "Maybe we could get dinner later?"

"Alright, loverboy. One thing at a time." She teased. "Howard, what are our levels?"

"Levels at 100%."

"I have to say something," He almost begged. "I think I'm in love with you."

Chuckling, she held his face in her hands. "I think I'm in love with you, too, Steve." Blowing him a kiss, she waved her love goodbye before leaving to stand beside Howard. "We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we'll ever be."

She just barely missed Steve's terrified, longing glance that had remained on her back as she worked diligently, how the cold metal around him sent shivers down his spine, aching for the warmth of her touch.

Erskine began his speech into the microphone. "but we are ready as we'll ever be. today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace. We begin with a series of microinjections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays. Serum infusion beginning in five, four, three, two, one."

Hesitating the slightest bit, Y/N pulled the lever, eyes tearing at Steve's small grunts as each small vial emptied itself. Howard pulled his own lever, elevating the pod into a standing form, closing the blonde in. "Steven? Can you hear me?"

"It's probably too late to go to the bathroom now, right?"

She couldn't help but smile at his witty answer. "We will proceed."

"10%."

"20%."

"30."

"That's 40%."

"Vital signs are normal."

"That's 50%."

"60."

"70."

The beam emitting from the pod became too bright for the eye, the sound of Steve's groans had morphed into pained screams, shattering Y/N's heart with every yell. "Shut it down! Kill the reactor, Howard!"

"No!" He protested. "Don't! I can do this!"

Howard looked at her with a sense of sympathy. "Eighty."

"Ninety."

"That's 100%."

Sparks had erupted throughout the machinery, surges of light blinding them until it had died down, everything and everyone dead silent. Within seconds, the pod had opened, revealing a brand new Steve Rogers.

Y/N cried in relief, instantly running to tend to him, helping him out of the device. "You did it, sweetheart."

"I did it."

"Yes, you did. How do you feel?"

He panted, surveying his surroundings before looking down at her. "Taller."

She barely took a minute to lock her gaze onto the newly formed muscles on his body.

With a giggle, she handed him a shirt. "You look taller." He grinned, using his newfound strength to pick her up, a loud squeal leaving her painted lips.

A loud explosion went off, the glass pane that guarded the viewing room had shattered onto the people congratulating Erskine below. Erskine had fallen to the ground after multiple gunshots, Steve making his way to the scientist while Y/N had continued shooting at the perpetrator as he escaped, soon running after him.

Running out onto the street, she caught her breath, deathly stare on the car that had her target. She shot once, no luck. Once again, the vehicle had swerved, colliding with a parked car nearby.

Kruger had gotten into a different car, accelerating at full speed towards the young woman, challenging her as she raised her gun once again.

No impact or gunshot ever occurred as Steve had pulled her out of the way, leaving her on the sidewalk. "I had him!"

"Sorry!" He ran, leaving her to pursue Kruger himself.

After Y/N had helped Steve save the men of the 107th, the pair had received a few weeks of reprieve in the beautiful city of London.

Steve admired her as she applied the black pigment onto her eyes with utmost accuracy, the trousers and blouse she wore complimenting her in such marvelous ways he couldn't comprehend. He got up from where he stood, taking long strides towards her, placing a hand on her waist and smiling when his reflection came into view on her vanity mirror. "Hi."

"Hello." She giggled, leaning into him. "Enjoying the view?"

He nodded, swiftly turning her to face him. His grin had dropped into a sly smile as he let go of her, ignoring her inquisitive looks as he dropped down, one knee hitting the carpeted floor. Pulling out a small box, she gasped instantly. "The ring isn't expensive, or lavish." He started, displaying the solitaire diamond ring.

"Oh my god, Steve."

"I love you, Y/N. I want to grow old with you, and share my life with you. I want to have a future with you, and I want it to start now. Right here in this obnoxiously rainy place," They both laughed. "will you marry me?"

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, nodding with clouded eyes filled with tears. "Oh, of course I'll marry you, Steve." She pulled him up, smushing his face against her own into a kiss, the pair of them smiling into it. "I wouldn't want anything else."

Steve wasn't lying when he said he wanted to start now, within 5 days he stood at the end of a chapel with Bucky by his side as best man and Y/N in a pearly white frock and a makeshift veil bought at the nearest corner shop.

It didn't matter that the dress was picked out last minute, or that the veil was advertised to be a gag gift. Nothing could rival the grins on the couples' faces when they said "I do." rings slipping onto their fingers and lips joining in a moment of utter bliss.

It was later that night when Y/N crawled out of bed, slipping on Steve's blazer to shield her bare body from the cold air seeping into the bedroom through the open window. Sitting at the desk, pen in hand, she sucked in a deep breath.

Dear daddy,

We're in London now. Steve managed to save the men of the 107th, I'm sure you've seen the posters all around. He's America's beacon of hope.

I hope Eliza and ma are good. I hope you're good.

I'm writing to let you know that Steve and I got married today. It was fast, we just got engaged last week, but nothing has ever felt more right. Writing this letter, the ring sparkling in the moonlight, it's perfect. I don't regret anything.

Steve has assembled his team, they called themselves the Howling Commandos and I couldn't be more proud. He promises that once they get all of HYDRA's bases, the war will be over and everything will hopefully go back to normal.

I got my happy end, daddy. I know it's not the end, it's just the beginning of a perfect life. A perfect life with my perfect husband, and hopefully my perfect family. I hope you're happy for me.

With all my love,

Y/N Rogers.

"What are you writing, Mrs. Rogers?" Steve queried, sat upright in bed.

Y/N smirked before climbing back into bed, ridding herself of the severely oversized blazer. "Nothing, Mr. Rogers."

The pair broke out into a fit of laughter as he pulled her close, hand trailing up and down her back, dangerously close to the soft skin of her backside.

2 years later, a year after the well grieved death of Bucky Barnes, Y/N had turned 20 and the couple had decided it was time to add to their family now that some light was finally at the end of the tunnel after a long 6 years of war.

Tangled in a mess of sheets, limbs intertwined, Y/N rested her head on her lover's heartbeat. "Do you think we made a baby?" She asked timidly.

"Maybe." She let out a faint giggle, eliciting a look of confusion from the super soldier. "What is it?"

"Do you think the baby will be super duper strong? A mini Steve who can lift an entire car up as a little boy?"

Steve chuckled, snuggling her closer. "Or a little girl, just as strong as you. Either way, they'd be beautiful."

She hummed, a hand on his cheek. "With my eyes and your beautiful blond hair, I'd think so."

It was that same day Y/N would find herself supervising one of Steve's missions from base. "Come in, this is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"

She instantly rushed over to the microphone. "Steve? Is that you? Are you okay?"

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead!"

"What about the plane?"

"That's a little bit tougher to explain."

She huffed. "Give me your coordinates, I'll find you a safe landing site."

"There's not going to be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down."

"I'll get Howard on, he'll know what to do."

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I got to put her in the water."

Y/N's stomach dropped, her heart threatening to leap out of her chest as she anxiously twisted her wedding and engagement rings. "Please don't do this. We have time, we can work this out." She begged, eyes brimming with tears.

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are going to die, sweetheart. This is my choice, Y/N." She didn't say anything, her head dropping onto the palm of her hands. "Y/N, honey?"

"I'm here."

"We might have to reschedule that doctor's appointment."

Taking in a shaky breath, she wiped the tears of her cheeks with haste, as if Steve could see her. "Alright. I'll book it for Monday."

"You got it."

"10am, on the dot. We can't be late, it's our baby. If there is one in there."

"I want you to know, I love you, Y/N. No matter what. You'll always be my best girl. My only girl."

"I love you too, Steve."

"I was thinking about names. I want to name it after your dad if it's a boy."

She choked a sob, nodding. "Yeah, yeah. I don't mind."

"And if it's a girl-"

"Steve?" Nothing. Not a single breath. She collapsed onto the desk in a mess of tears and loud cries, not caring for Colonel Phillips who stood behind her, a look of pity set on her back.

2011 was a long way away from 1945, Steve thought.

It'd taken him too long to come to terms with the fact that his wife was most likely dead, but when Nick Fury had presented him a box of her belongings, he couldn't help but shed a tear as he sat on the floor of his apartment going through it.

He'd found the necklace he gifted her on their first wedding anniversary, an accessory he now wore himself under his clothing, slipping her wedding and engagement ring onto the chain before putting it on. He grasped it close to his heart, a melancholy sigh leaving his lips.

His eyes narrowed when he came across an unfamiliar book, flipping it open.

Dear Steve,

The war is finally over as of 2 days ago, Japan formally surrendered. I wish you were able to celebrate the victory you worked so hard for.

You missed our doctor's appointment today. You'll be sleeping on the couch tonight after I reminded you to be there at 10am, no later.

I'm pregnant, Steve. What we've been waiting so long for has finally happened and you're not here to see it. I've decided to work with Howard once the baby is here, he'll give me flexible hours and good pay. Enough to keep us going and Peggy's good company.

I'm alone now, now Bucky to help me out, no you. I think I'll keep the house. It would be nice for the baby to grow up in the house we bought together.

I don't know why I've started writing in this stupid thing.

With all my love,

Y/N.

The super soldier let out a strained sob at the confirmation. She was pregnant, and he wasn't there.

He'd missed the entirety of his child's life, and the rest of hers.

The next few pages were short blurbs of her outings with Peggy and Howard, grocery lists and so on.

Dear Steve,

The baby is getting big, I've got a little bump now. Only 24 weeks to go.

Everyone is really excited, maybe more than I am. It's all over the papers "Wife of Captain America pregnant with America's Next Hope."

In truth, I don't want our child to be America's Next Hope.

I just want them to be happy and healthy, and to stay with me forever.

Howard's started building the crib, I told him not to make it too technical. He's putting all kinds of soothers and all everywhere, but it's still nice of him to do so. Peggy took me to London for Christmas and New Year's, we had a nice time and she bought me this beautiful dress. You would've loved it.

I miss you, Steve.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year, my love.

Forever yours,

Y/N.

Dear Steve,

It's getting warmer, and April has never felt hotter. Howard and Peggy keep saying it's just me and my big belly. Well, what else would I expect at 7 months pregnant?

Sometimes I feel you around. I'll feel you sitting at the kitchen counter, reading the paper. Or your hand on my belly in the morning. You're all over the house and somehow it's breaking and mending my heart at the same time.

These daily entries are getting a bit boring now, aren't they?

I hope you read these in a different lifetime, maybe.

Your only girl,

Y/N.

Dear Steve,

Josephine Sarah Stephanie Rogers was born on the 6th of June, 1946.

I named her after your dad, Joe.

I know we never talked about girl names, but I looked at her and I couldn't resist. I just know our little girl is going to change the world, just like your father tried to.

She's a carbon copy of you. Your gorgeous blue eyes, bright blonde hair. She's absolutely perfect, Steve.

And I just know that if you'd met her, she'd have you wrapped around her finger.

But she's all ours, baby. Our little angel, and I couldn't thank you enough for giving me such a stunning gift. Thank you for making me a mother, Steve, it's the best thing I could've ever received from you.

We love you to the moon and back,

Y/N and Josephine.

Steve held his hand to his mouth. He was a father, a father to what would now be a 65 year old woman. A woman who'd already lived most her life, achieved a majority of her milestones, all without him.

Dear Steve,

Happy birthday, my love.

Josephine and I made a cake for you. Today you would have turned 28 years old.

Colonel Phillips visited me today. It was brief, really. He played with Josephine and wished us well.

As I write this ridiculous entry, the wedding rings on my finger feel so heavy, unlike ever before. My heart constantly aches for you, but I will wait. I will wait until it is my time, and I hope you'll be waiting for me at the gates of heaven.

Your ever most loving wife,

Y/N.

Dear Steve,

It's been one year since you've been gone.

I miss you, more than anything in the world.

I'll see you soon, but not too soon.

Dear Steve,

Josephine turned 1 today.

Howard and Peggy threw a party, and you know how Howard's parties are. This one was child friendly, though. He brought a circus and entertained Josephine and all of her little friends from daycare.

Daddy dropped by. He loves Josephine, and he spent most of the day telling her all about you.

She said her first word today. Guess what it was!

Dada. She said your name, Steve. And she'll never forget it.

Wait for me,

Y/N.

Steve only brushed his tears away, flipping through every entry over the next few years.

Dear Steve,

Jo turned 16 today.

It's so odd to think that just 16 years ago I was only 20, trying my best to bring her into the world. We made such a beautiful young woman, Steve, and she's exactly like you. She has a hard shell but she's a big softie on the inside.

I've never been so grateful for a human being. She takes care of me, always telling me the best things to use and the best things to buy instead of it being the other way around. She's my protector, my guardian angel. In that way, she took your place.

Peggy helped me throw a big birthday party for her, she deserves it. She's worked so hard in and out of school. All of her friends came, they danced and ate. We got a massive cake to go with it.

Everyday she hugs your picture and thanks you, and today was no different.

I hope you're looking down on us with a smile, sweetheart.

Y/N.

Dear Steve,

Jo turned 18 a few days ago. I couldn't write because I took her to Paris for her birthday.

I'd been planning the trip for a long time, saving up as much as I could. She loved it! She also told me she got into Juilliard, which is a performing arts school in New York. It's far, farther away than she's ever been from me, but it's only an hour drive. She promises to come home every weekend.

I don't have to worry about paying for it anymore after Howard, Phillips, Peggy and I founded SHIELD. It's protection for the world, saving lives, just like you did.

I have to go, Jo's asking me to help her pack.

I love you,

Y/N.

He read through the brief entries of Y/N's time at SHIELD, before stopping at a picture. Juilliard, class of 1969.

She was right. Jo had inherited all of Steve's looks, from the blonde hair and blue eyes to the kind smile she graced the camera with.

Steve finally got to the end of the journal. Recovering after reading through her daughter's longtime boyfriend turned husband, the births of their grandchildren, the death of Howard Stark and more.

Dear Steve,

I like to think I lived a good 76 years of life. I lived to see the year 2001.

I got an education, got myself a job despite spending my father's money because I was young and stupid. I met you, the skinny boy who told me to follow my dreams of being a scientist. I fell in love with you, and the new you that emerged after the serum.

My love for you is eternal, which has been proven in the 55 years I've spent without you.

I lived to see my only child succeed, I lived to walk her down the aisle. I lived to see my beautiful grandchildren.

I've lived more than enough, and I think it's finally time to come home to you, honey.

I'll see you soon.

Y/N.

Steve brought his left hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the wedding band that rested on his finger.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back." Steve smirked, carrying the briefcase containing the six infinity stones.

Bucky gave him a sad smile. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." They shared a hug. "I'm gonna miss you, buddy. Tell her I said hi."

"Yeah, Buck. It's gonna be alright."

"How long is this going to take?" Sam questioned as the super soldier stepped onto the heavy machinery.

"For him, as long is he needs. For us, 5 seconds. Ready Cap?"

"I'll be back."

Y/N paced around, lip caught between her teeth. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stopped abruptly, turning to face the new voice.

Sighing a breath of relief, she leaped into his arms. "Steve! You're back."

"Yeah, honey. I'm back."

#Steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers imagine #Steve rogers #avengers #Steve rogers x y/n #Steve rogers x you #captain america #Captain America x reader #Captain America x y/n #Captain America x you #Steve rogers fanfic #Steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfic #Captain America fanfiction #marvel

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poohkeepsee · 3 years

Text

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles by 2street2car Words: 10,311 Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me by ellispark Words: 45,876 Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine by LeverDrift Words: 67,939 Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall Words: 26,052 Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend by sobsicles Words: 8,445 Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You by sobsicles Words: 95,090 Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication' by JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home by domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462 Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922 Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees) by sobsicles Words: 74,173 Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910 Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination) by sobsicles Words: 108,427 Chapters: 4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date by aeli_kindara Words: 8,968 Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road by thegeminisage Words: 109,629 Chapters: 7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims by lagaudiere Words: 31,904 Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend by reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191 Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

#destiel #deancas #fic recs

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irishlookingmexican · 4 years

Text

The Winter Ball

🥀A/N🥀 I actually wanted to post this for Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, but I procrastinated so much... Anyway, I hope you like this. I’ll probably write a part two that will contain some smut simply to be forgiven for this huge delay. 🥀Warnings🥀 None, at least I don’t think so. Also, Caliban’s major appearance is towards the middle of this.

🥀 Word count🥀 1495 words. [Requests are open] Also, if any of you happen to know any good Tate Langdon imagines form AHS that aren’t written in the 1st person, I would really love for you to tell me.

You sat on the perfectly arranged red velvet sheets that laid on top of your large and luxurious bed, facing the French window that gave you the second-best view in the castle, the best view being the one Sabrina had in her room, of course. With her being the new Queen of Hell and all, she had the most beautiful and perfect things out of the two of you.

You took one last longing glance at the blood red sunset with a few hints of gold and yellow that reminded you so much of your beloved boyfriend, Caliban; oh, how you wished you didn’t have to attend that ball. After years of playing Lucifer’s perfect and powerful daughter that wouldn’t let anything get to her, you were on the brink of exhaustion. Because of that, you were somewhat grateful for Sabrina, for coming into Hell’s limelight that had only room for one, pushing you out of the way, without her even noticing it. You remembered how, a few days ago, she all but begged you to come to the Winter Ball, saying that if you didn’t want to attend the ball next year, you wouldn’t have to. She told you that she thought it was only appropriate since the both of you were the future of Hell, since you were half-sisters and you were both the daughters of Lucifer, not only her. In reality, you knew she wanted you there, not because she loved having you as a sister, but because she just wanted to see a familiar face, even if it was yours and not one of her closest friends, like Theo’s. Thought the only upside for you was that you would be able to spend hours dancing and doin some other stuff with Caliban without being told that you should be doing more productive things such as reading over some documents or signing your name on important contracts for Hell’s sake.

You sighed as you stood up and walked into your gigantic closet, in one of the far corners of your room. Judging by the footsteps approaching your room, it wouldn’t be long before your personal maids barged into your sanctuary and intruded on your thoughts. You would think that after growing up surrounded by staff people, you would be used to people dressing you up and helping you get ready for important events, but actually, you utterly despised all that attention, which sure wasn’t a desirable trait for a princess to possess.

As it turned out, you were right. A group of around five maids, all of them wearing assorted black and white uniforms that were quite fashionable, were walking towards you. You felt your body go limp, feeling the indifferent feeling you always got before an important ball, or simply an important event, other than political meetings your father used to bring you to, which you completely loved because you enjoyed helping your father’s people.

You watched yourself in the mirror as the maids helped you change into your dress, sometimes doing things yourself when they were having trouble, then being reprimanded for doing so. After an hour or so, your finally ready. When they left, you sneaked one last look in the majestic oval gold and ruby mirror. You wore a beautiful black tuile dress with a bit of golden floral embroidery, under which was a layer of white fabric that match the shiny belt you wore. Your white gloved hands caressed your face, as you appreciated how little makeup the head mais out on your face, yet, still managing to make you look exquisitely unreal; you only wore scarlet red lipgloss and some eyeliner. Your (h/c) hair was arranged in a fancy bun, some hair clips with white pearls on them stood out proudly here and there.

Sabrina bumped right into you as you were leaving your bedroom and beginning to walk towards the ballroom. You were surprised by how pretty your sister looked, of course she always looked pretty but the dress she wore and the crown that rested upon her platinum hair both really suited her. At that moment, you began to feel rather self conscious and nauseous; you were well aware that your boyfriend, Caliban was going to attend the Winter Ball and you were frightened by the fact that he might think that Sabrina looked better than you.

“Wow, (Y/N)! You look so beautiful and elegant,” Sabrina said with an honest smile.

“Thank you, Sabrina. Yes, well, Mother always told me elegance is the only beauty that never fades,” You felt shy all of a sudden, that always happened when someone complimented you. ““I would hug you, but I don’t want to ruin your gown. Are you actually comfortable in it? You look like you can barely move.”

“Well, that’s because I can barely move. Anyway, all of the guests have finally arrived,” she shot you a mischievous look. “Even Caliban is already here. I swear, his jaw is gonna definitely drop when he catches a glimpse of you!”

It felt weird to admit to yourself that you were actually beginning to see Sabrina as your actual sister instead of simply seeing her as an acquaintance. But you pushed all of those thoughts away as soon as you recognized Caliban among the sea of guests due to his golden hair. You had to repeat to yourself, as if it was a mantra , that even if Sabrina was more important than you, you still had one of the highest statuses in Hell, meaning that you still had to act graceful, and that no matter how much you wanted to run down the stairs and jump into Caliban’s arms like you normally do, you couldn’t do so. Instead, you walked at a moderate pace down the stairs, your right gloved hand sliding down the golden handrail, trying to lower your eyes to look at the ground to make sure that you don’t fall as seldom as possible,as if you knew perfectly what you were doing. In theory, you did, but seeing Caliban’s incredibly smouldering figure in his suit flustered you and took some of your concentration away. As you took a few more steps, your (e/c) eyes met Caliban’s. He took one look at you and his mouth that was previously pressed into a tight smile opened slightly, ne cocked his head to the side and he couldn’t tear away from you; you looked absolutely ethereal, even more magnificent than you usually looked. It must be said that, at that moment, you had proven to yourself that you had a lot more of self composure than you thought, as you stopped yourself from smiling like a fool because of your boyfriend’s reaction.

Caliban, slightly pushing some demons away, made his way to you, a gorgeous smile that made your knees go weak plastered upon his face. You quickened your pace, and the two of you met each other like a pair of shooting stars. You tightly wrapped your arms around his neck before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that only lasted for a few moments so that nobody would really notice.

“Have I ever told you how luckyI am to have a girlfriend as gorgeous as you?” Caliban asked as he softly caressed your cheek, warming your heart in the loveliest way of all. “You look absolutely splendid tonight, (Y/N).”

“I could say the same about you, Cali,” you answered as you and the blond man began to dance, a few demons following suit. “You know, I only decided to attend this ball because I knew you would come.”

“Oh, really, darling,” he said in a cocky tone as he rose an eyebrow. “I feel so special all of a sudden, but I could’ve sworn that just a few days ago you said that you were only doing this because your sister, Sabrina begged you to do so.”

You were surprised that, this time, when Caliban called Sabrina your sister you didn’t cringe at all, like you used to. Your boyfriend lowered a bit his hand that was on your waist as he spun you closer to the doors that permitted you to exit the ballroom. He rose his eyes only for a moment, but based on the hurt that was displayed on his face, you assumed Sabrina had made her grand entrance. It wasn’t that Caliban didn’t like her, it was just that he wished that he was the King of Hell, not her. You pressed a hand to his jawline and whispered in a soft voice, “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”

He lowered his eyes to meet yours, “In all honesty, I just wish that the only two persons in this world were you and me.”

“Well, that can be arranged.”

Simply by looking at how his beautiful eyes glimmered and at the cocky grin he offered you, you knew that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

#caliban x reader #caliban imagine #caos #caos netflix #chilling adventures of sabrina #winter 2020 #sabrina spellman #hell

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"KINDRED", 4 - Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, romance, violence, guns, drama, slight smut(“slight”?)

Word Count: 5k+

AN: When it’s a reader and Tommy scene, it’s Tommy POV.

❰ Previous Chapter

Tommy leaned backwards on his desk chair, a cigarette stuck in between his index and middle fingers. He was looking at the ceiling as if its colour brought to him answers to the multiple questions that had been clouding his mind lately.

Since the day he and Y/N kissed, he noticed she had been avoiding him. She didn’t even send him the weekly book she usually dropped at the office.

He didn’t understand her, and each time he tried to put back together the pieces to get a clear view of her character, the memories of the smell of her hair brought him somewhere else. And whenever he would dare to close his eyes too long, he would taste her lips again.

Even if she chose to stay away from him, he entered her world once and appreciated it so greatly it had printed into his spirits, like a hand in wet cement.

He allowed himself to shift his thoughts to Mosley from time to time, the d-day was approaching and with it, the time he’ll take the lead of the British fascist party.

(...)

The only way Lizzie found to see her husband these days was to come back in business as Tommy’s secretary. He told her she wouldn’t have to work when they got their daughter, Ruby, but he was rarely home, and when he was, his mind was elsewhere.

Even after promising to let her in sometimes, she struggled the most to read him, but despite all, she was deeply in love with him. She had to make the effort and reach for him.

He didn’t agree with her taking back her job at first and she knew exactly why, as being responsible for her having a baby, he had to take care of her, at least he felt like he did. He was undeniably a murderer, cut-throat gangster, but he had convictions and rules to stick to.

This morning began as normal as any other for the Shelby company limited, Lizzie was occupied with papers as Tommy locked himself in his office.

The door opened, Lizzie’s gaze instantly got up, searching for who might that be. When her gaze met the figure, her jaw dropped. ‘Not again’ she thought. This scene reminds her of the time May Carleton came in here only to entice her Tommy.

She knew he didn’t owe her anything, but he could’ve waited at least a day or two before calling another woman. Not even twenty-four hours earlier Tommy was fucking her in some alley in the cold, probably thinking about a woman he knew before France. But he said he was fucking her, Lizzie, and not his lost teenage lover, even if she knew better.

Tommy and his cock.

That May Carleton was walking so confidently in front of Lizzie, she probably thought she was the one to own Tommy’s cock. If only she knew. She glared at her so strongly that May avoided looking at her at all costs.

The woman that just passed the door didn’t look her way, too occupied walking straight to the doors of Tommy’s office with the arrogance of an army.

Lizzie’s eyes went from her seemingly very expensive shoes, up her green pants suit in which pockets she kept a hand, to her suit jacket that fell perfectly on her waist as the end of which was drawing the woman’s hips. Her leather belt marked, even more, her waist and its golden details matched the imposing blue pearls necklace along with the large same looking earrings.

As soon as the woman entered the room, the atmosphere switched, her figure called the eyes, not only due to her ostentatious jewellery collection but also by the woman’s charismatic aura. Even the clicking sound her heels made on the hard ground was full of power. Anyone could hear the confidence in each of her steps, which made Lizzie gasp.

As a moth attracted to light, Tommy got out of his office, a cigarette hanging on his lips. He pressed a shoulder on the door frame, his eyes fixed on the woman walking towards him.

He was indeed waiting for her.

His deep blue eyes weren’t examining the woman’s form in an enticed way, he was solely looking at her face, a thing that made Lizzie’s heart ached because she understood there might be more than sexual attraction between them.

Lizzie knew her husband. From the way he dawdled on the woman’s face to the little waving of his shoulders, she just knew.

The atmosphere again had changed, Lizzie was now oppressed by their two presences, the warm and powerful one of the stranger and the usual cold and disconcerting one of her husband, one completing the other.

As her heart didn’t want to admit it yet, a burning look was exchanged by the two pairs of eyes, and confirmed the obvious her brain already knew, Thomas had found his match, and it wasn’t her.

(...)

Tommy took off his shoulder from the door frame and stood straight as he humidified his lips. The librarian walked to him with her usual unreadable face and when she was close enough, she grabbed his cigarette off his fingers taking her time to make their skin touch as much as she could. Her eyes were still deeply in Tommy’s as millions of sparks animated the tips of his fingers.

The man coughed and turned to Lizzie, motioning his hand to the woman behind the desk, in an attempt to ignore the sparks. “Mrs Y/L/N, meet my wife, Lizzie. Lizzie, it’s Mrs Y/L/N, the librarian I work with at the House Of Commons.” He had sensed the intense look of his wife since Y/N came closer to him.

“Mrs Shelby! I am so honoured to meet you, I heard about your typewriting skills, writing eyes closed, eh? I could never.” Y/N gave a warm smile to Lizzie that squinted her eyes in anticipation. His wife didn’t believe in what the librarian just told and he was sure Y/N knew it too.

“Yeah? Well, I never heard of you.” Lizzie spitted.

“It’s because you don’t keep company with my people.” She had the audacity to take a puff on the cigarette she stole earlier from Tommy looking his wife straight in the eyes.

Even if Y/N’s voice was calm and solemn, it was clear it was an attack. The implication made Lizzie gritted her teeth as she got up and joined them. Tommy rubbed a hand on his own face knowing exactly what she was going to do.

She stood behind the librarian. “And what business do you have here in Birmingham if you work in London?”

“You’re husband,” Y/n responded, not even turning to her. She bypassed Tommy and opened the door’s office before disappearing behind them.

Lizzie followed her with her eyes before looking up at her husband. “The fuck is she doing here? Are you going to fuck her, Thomas?”

“No, Lizzie. Am not going to fuck her.” He responded exhaling deeply.

“Yeah, take me for an fucking idiot.” She walked to the desk to grab her hat & coat. “That’s all you’re good for anyway. You fucked all Birmingham and now London, huh?” She sneered before shaking her head walking to the exit.

“Lizzie.” He called, but the woman had already closed the door.

Tommy raised his brows and sighed before turning to the office where he marked a pause. It was another type of storm he had to face now. He finally opened the door and got in, only to find Y/N seated behind his desk, in his chair.

“Tommy Shelby, OBE, what a pleasure to meet your family.”

“It was quite a show you put out there.” He closed behind him.

When he turned back at the room, she was walking toward him, but she already was pretty near.

“So you fucked all Birmingham already, hum? Trying to expand your activities in London?” Y/N leaned on him, she was so close he could smell her breath and he wondered what was her fucking problem. She ignored him for days after they kissed and here she was again, pushing him to the edges. It was almost as if it was a game for her. And if it was, she was winning all the damn rounds.

“And you? What’s with the attitude?”

“What are you talking about.” She took a step back.

“You have been busy this week, eh?” Tommy walked to the counter and poured whiskey in two glasses.

“Well, the man you have your little brother watching, he talks.” She loosely let out. “The bookmaker Billy Grade, the one that conducts the football betting business” She paused looking at Tommy’s surprised expression. “He doesn’t like Arthur.”

“To who?” Was the simple question he needed an answer to.

“I made moves with Mosley so, yes, it had been a busy week, Thomas.”

At the revelation, Tommy’s eyes squinted. If there was one thing he learnt with Grace was to make sure his feelings weren’t a shackle to business.

“I’m not betraying you, no need for these wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. But you gotta know he’s offered me the South.” She went to the counter and took the glasses before sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, one cup in her hand, the other she put on one of the numerous files covering the desk.

Tommy went sitting in his armchair. He lit a cigarette and held one to the woman that declined.

“Only like to take yours.” She gave as an explanation.

“How come he offered you the south?” He ignored her comment.

“North’s Mc Cavern’s, Middle’s yours, South’s vacant. But I have another plan for the South, and you might agree with me as well.” A rictus took place at the corner of her lips, as Tommy looked at her, curious. “Mr Solomons. I know he wrote you that he’s still alive.”

Tommy’s lids fluttered a couple times, he didn’t say anything. How could she know so much all the time? Was she listening to him or something? He for a second thought it might be her spying on him on the phone but this idea went away almost immediately.

She wasn’t Grace.

“He and I are great friends. Not as if he really has any, but do I?” She muttered utterly to herself.

Tommy coughed and leaned back on his chair, making himself comfortable.

“What’s with you, Tommy?” Asked the librarian, and he himself couldn’t put a finger on what was going on. It was always that way when she was around, but everything intensified when they leaned their breath as one and connected together.

His mind was so full of thoughts that had nothing to do with business that it was hard for him to concentrate. But for some reason, he just couldn’t push those thoughts aside.

He wanted her, he yearned for her to touch him the way she did that night, to intertwine their fingers together again and forget about Mosley for an instant, just one. Tommy humidified his lips again as raising his eyebrows, it was like his lips were always dry or incomplete. Her lips belonged on his. He raised his gaze to her in distress.

“You want to come to me house, Tommy? Again?” Her voice resonated in his head, her words taking him by surprise.

“Huh?”

“Have a drink or two, meet my cat...” She went on, looking intently at his soul hiding behind his icy blue iris.

He didn’t recognize her, but did he even know her? It seems not. Every time they meet, she puts another mask on. Somewhere in his soul, he believed it wasn’t a good idea, that thing they shared. But he knew he couldn’t turn away and break the partnership. Not now. Not only could she be hard to beat if they turned to enemies, but he also needed her, she was part of his business now. She was too precious an ally for him to withdraw from the deal.

As he didn’t respond, she drank from her cup, finishing its countenance in one go. “I’ll ask Arthur then...replace his Linda.” She added looking up to the ceiling innocently.

“The fuck did you say?” He hustled to spit as watching her without blinking.

Her gaze went back on Tommy, a playful gleam animating her pupils.

“What do you say?” She sent him back the ball. It was indeed a game for her, and he knew once again she would be the winner because he wouldn’t say no.

He tried to escape her game by coughing it away and smoked his cigarette. “How are you going to bring up Alfie Solomons with Mosley?” He went back on business, but the woman didn’t seem ready yet to give up.

She got up and grabbed the phone with one hand as the other was dialling a number. She sat at the corner of the desk, turning toward the Shelby brother and the phone. Tommy watched her movements closely, curious about how she was going to handle him dismissing her offer.

He couldn’t even hide the fact her stubbornness did something to him, even if he repressed any desire for her. It was as if they were the principal characters in the regency era drama he ended up devouring as it was the book Y/N was reading on their first meeting.

He was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the librarian asking the cable woman to put her in connection with the individual she intended to reach.

“Yeah, Arthur, it’s me. I wonder if you would wa--” Tommy had heard enough. He hung up the line and fixed the phone for what feels like centuries, slowly realizing what his reaction meant.

The Y/E/C eyes woman remained silent, a silence that felt heavy on Tommy’s conscience. He straightened back and leaned on the back of his chair, glancing at the ceiling.

He was done with those games. He couldn’t believe he dove into her crude farce head first, and now he had to face her because she had been staring at him the last minute.

“You’re a devil.” He let the words lazily slip between his lips.

“Call me Lilith.” She spiritedly exclaimed. Tommy’s eyes went to her face at that exact moment.

“So you’re jew, eh? That explains why you know Alfie, but contradicts the fact you and Mosley are close.” Tommy thought out loud. According to his memories, Lilith was a demon of the jew tradition, which led him to his conclusion.

The woman instantly smiled, seemingly very content about the Shelby head struggling to catch her.

“Fair enough.”

“You come to my house?”

“I was talking about the comparison.” He paused, looking at her blankly.

She sighed.

No doubt she was annoyed by Tommy’s behaviour, but she won way too much at their little game. It was about time Tommy won. It was unusual of him to be that shallow but it was their intimate space, so he didn’t care.

(...)

Gina couldn’t see anything when the abductors took her out of the car to lead her down some stairs into what she surmised to be a cellar, she already had a piece of cloth hiding her vision and one in her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

She was petrified and the fact the individuals didn’t say a word, neither during the ride nor once in the room didn’t help her. She could feel heavy drops of sweat rolling down her forehead as dried tears itched the corners of her eyes.

The place was colder than what she remembered a cellar to be. Flashes of her childhood coming back to her from time to time.

“THREE… TWO… ONE… ZERO. I’M COMING GINA!” Her cousin shouted from the kitchen where they last saw each other. The little girl used to come down in the cellar to hide when playing hide and seek with any member of her family, from her cousins to her father.

As her mother was severely ill, she couldn’t play with Gina, but her father always did. When not leading the believers to sing the praises of the Almighty at the local church, he was both a father and a mother to her.

Although her mother & herself loved each other more than anything, she soon stopped seeing her. When at first her father let Gina visit the room of her mother once a day, it decreased from once a week, to once a month to simply never.

Despite the child doggedly asking for her mother, he remained unyielding and managed to keep his daughter away from her mother for her own sake.

It was only when growing older and after the death of her mother that Gina understood her father’s demeanour. He was desperate not to let his daughter watch her mother die.

This time, the cellar didn’t feel familiar and it’s not a joyful feeling that resides in her. Her body reacting to the cold, she was shivering as goosebumps appeared at the same time as she heard footsteps coming her way. Her blood boiling like hot water, she struggled to breathe.

“Call her father.” Gina heard a female voice she had never heard before. She listened to footsteps receding before a whimper escaped her throat.

“Well, you heard the woman, let her talk.” The voice ordered. And just like that, her mouth got freed. “Go on.” The female voice seemed to address her directly.

“What do you want with my father?” She managed to say after she moved her jaws to get rid of the piece of cloth’s taste.

“He’s an old friend.”

“Can’t you just call like normal people instead of abducting his child?” Gina murmured, not totally relieved from the fear. She wanted to appear unmoved and plucked all the courage left in her to get an untroubled voice.

“I know you, Gina.” The voice started, getting closer. “You alright? You’re trembling.” Well, it seems like all the effort she put in wasn’t enough, her true emotions were discovered.

“You know me, huh? So you know as soon as you detach me I’ll assault you and spit right in your face, right?” She angrily let out, she didn’t accept to be defeated nor seen while being vulnerable and defenceless.

But it seems like the individual challenged her, because she heard someone pass behind her and loosen the cords holding back her hands. At the same moment, the piece of cloth blinding her fell on her collarbones.

Before her, stood straight a woman with a closed face, her facial traits weren’t aggressive, but in her eyes, Gina could swear she saw in there an untamed fire. Her brown eyes slid to a sitting white dog near the stranger, it looked like a wolf, even its huge size reminded her of the fierce beast she read about as a teenager.

It was ridiculous to see this situation unleashed the least probable memories of her youth into her mind as vividly as yesterday.

“Who are you? What do you want?” The woman before Gina mimicked her voice, a smile drawing on her lips. “They always ask the same questions.” She shrugged her shoulders seeing Gina’s surprised expression. The freshly Gray woman closed her mouth that was slightly open in an “o” shape and clenched her jaw.

“Well, I need your father to come here, in England. And you,” she tapped Gina’s end of nose, “you’re the thing that’ll make him travel the world all the way to Birmingham. To my greatest pleasure,” She patted her own chest before motioning to Gina, “and much to your displeasure.”

Gina didn’t even know what to say, she used the time the woman spent talking to massage her wrists as the cords were tied very tight. Her gaze dawdled on the woman in front of her, she was wearing a very long purple coat to which two buttons situated at the waist of its owner were closed. She also wore black lace gloves with ostentatious golden rings above the fabric. The diamonds of her rings were blue, matching her earrings. When the woman turned to the side to pat her dog’s head, Gina noticed she had braided her hair in a single braid that fell on her back.

The woman crouched down for her eyes to be at the same level as the dog’s ones, one of her hands scratching its head. “One single word and it attacks you, so you better behave.” She turned her head to Gina, warning her. The blonde woman glared at the other before glancing toward the dog in anticipation.

Y/N got back up and turned her back to Gina as she started to walk toward the stairs. “Get comfortable, it’s your new home for a few days.”

“What, you’re leaving me in this? With the dog?” She screamed at the Y/H/C haired woman.

“If I were you, I’d avoid screaming, Gina doesn’t like too loud noises.” She waved goodbye as answering without even glancing toward Gray.

“What?” Gina asked, confusion in her voice.

Y/N chuckled a bit before turning around, her index went from the dog to Gina, “Yeah, meet your twin.” She walked backwards a couple of seconds before turning back to the stairs and climbing them.

(...)

House Of Commons, London.

The door of Tommy’s office abruptly opened on an angry Michael.

The Shelby brother that was pouring himself some whisky glanced at his cousin. “Michael.” He welcomed.

“Where the fuck is my wife, Tommy?” Gray asked, frowning.

“What?” He squinted his eyes.

“Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Wife.” Michael spitted each word, looking straight into his older cousin’s eyes.

Tom blinked a couple times, not understanding the request.

“Days ago when coming back from the fucking restaurant some fucking people took her.” The younger Gray calmed a bit, seeing that Tommy truly didn’t know what he was talking about.

“How did they look?” Tom asked, concerned. Even if Michael might have betrayed him, he was family still and anyone jeopardizing the life of a member of the Shelby clan or someone related to them should taste the sweet fondles of death’s fingers.

“Men in fucking black.” Michael started to pace up and down, both his hands passing over his face. “I’m getting mad, Tom, me head fucking all over the place...” He continued.

“Men, no women?” Tommy brows raised, he had to ask. He remembered the conversation he had with that librarian when she was telling him she thought Gina was the weakness and force of his cousin and that she might do something about it.

“No.” Michael stated firmly. Tommy’s tensed shoulders relaxed. “Or..” Tommy raised his brows. “I don’t know, Tom. Fuck.”

“We’re going to find her, Michael. Stay in your hotel room, stay put, near the phone, right?” The Shelbys' head tapped his cousin’s shoulder before leaving the office.

(...)

He stopped the car near the portals and got out, a cigarette hanging on his lips. Tommy walked the pointlessly long alley, by-passing a ton of fountains and trimmed bushes of different forms and shapes.

The fair distance gave him time to rethink everything that concerned Y/N and his relationship with her. If she truly was behind the disappearance of his cousin’s wife, he would have to deal with her, meaning going to war, which was far from the plan since he entered politics.

He knocked on the door without waiting any further once he joined the principal door. He was looking intently at the windows trying to see a silhouette through it or an ignited light of some sort, but nothing.

The door abruptly opened, making a loud noise and the figure of the librarian was to be seen. Tommy raised his hand to her face, pointing his gun at her, but when her body was fully visible thanks to the moon shining, he blinked, bewildered.

His eyes dropped on a Y/N only dressed with an emeraude lace nightgown. The top was all see-through, but it didn’t stop him from cocking the gun and hold it steady in between her eyebrows. Even though he was here because he suspected her to have turned her back to him, his body reacted a whole different way to the view. His heart started to pounder in his chest as a warmth suddenly took prisoner his upper body. He swallowed in an attempt to dismiss the feeling ready to burst out.

“Missing our start?” She let out, not even pretending to be scared or shook by the situation. As a matter of fact, in their second meeting, Tom indeed pulled a gun at her, how could he forget that. Nobody ever had the nerve to threaten him on his own doorsteps, but of course, she did.

“Where’s Gina?” He ignored she was half-naked along with her remark.

“What the fuck, Thomas?” One of her eyebrows raised in confusion. “What’s happened?”

Tommy switched the position of his fingers, putting his index right on top of the trigger to make known he knew she was lying.

As she felt the danger, the woman banged the door on Tom’s face and not even a second later, he heard bullets being fired as he saw holes drawing through the door. The time stopped, or at least everything appeared as slower.

He instinctively put his arms over his head and kneeled as other bullets were being fired, he managed his way to the wall of the mansion, staying down.

“Fucking hell, Y/N!” He shouted his lungs out, his ears whistling due to the bullets’ noise.

“Remember when I warned you, Thomas. You pull a gun, I shoot!” She accentuated the last part, her tone underlined by anger.

“Why did you take her?” He kept his head close to the wall as shaking it, trying to totally recover his hearing.

“You should’ve asked that when you could, Sergent Major.” She calmly stated.

Tommy could hear she was re-loading her gun.

He looked at the gravels under him and recognized the bullet belonging to a rifle. He frowned, wondering how come she got a rifle.

“No. Put down the rifle, I'm throwing me gun.” He said loudly before dropping his gun in the grass far away from him, his weapon made a muffled noise while encountering the ground.

He didn’t hear anything for a minute that seems to last hours. The night breeze came fondling his face, helping him to ease his breath as the silence made him fully recover his hearing.

The front door opened, and Y/N peeked through. Only one of her Y/E/C eyes was to be seen, and even if her pupil was dilated due to the adrenaline, her look seemed concerned. “Are you hurt?” She solemnly asked, she, as well, being out of breath.

Tommy shook his head on both sides before he managed to stand, helped by the wall.

“You mad woman.” He closed his eyes as taking a deep breath in, knowing she wouldn't try to kill him tonight. When he opened his eyes again, she was in front of him, barefoot on the gravel.

“Sorry… I tend to lose my shit when I’m in danger.” She placed the rifle hanging around her neck to her side, a hand holding it still.

“You weren’t. I wasn’t gonna fucking shot, just trying to scare you.”

“...Well you angered me.” She hesitated in even giving him an answer. She finally decided she didn't need the rifle anymore and went placing it against the wall.

“Not fear, eh?” He teased, and she shook her head as a response.

“Why the fuck did you take Gina away? Michael’s all over the place, he even came to me. The boy’s fucking losing it.”

“Well, firstly, he deserved a little reminding he was still a boy as you correctly underlined,” she raised her brows looking at him, “secondly, after further research, I found it I know her father. Long story short, he’s the only one to be able to deal with her uncle if we don’t want any blood spilt.”

“Fucking was about to spill me gut on your doorstep, the fuck you care about spilt blood, Y/N?” He furrowed his brows as agitating one of his hands, motioning to the ground beneath their feet.

“Yeah,” she acquiesced, “not me that cares about fucking family. It’s you.”

That’s when he realized how serious she took their partnership. When he thought she was solely doing what fitted her best, she indeed took into consideration Tommy's convictions. She took seriously the fact he didn't want the family to be hurt. And although he ranged on her side regarding scaring Michael a bit to make him realize something, he never thought of Y/N to be tough enough to act with as much strategy as ruthlessness. She definitely outdid him in this case.

This sudden realisation aroused something in him. She cared. Even if the care she gave was nonetheless peculiar and typical to her character, she did what she could with what she had right? And right now she was working with him with as much resilience and fierceness as she would do with her own organisation.

“If it was up to me, fucking bullets to the head for both of ‘em and we done.” She dismissively worded as looking afar. “Where’s your gun?” She lazily looked back at him.

Tommy hesitated a short period of time before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against himself. She didn’t push him away as he neared his face near her, she was the one sealing their lips together. This time, none of them were eager for the other, their kiss was light, soft and pure, contrasting with the chaotic situation they put themselves in.

The blue-eyed man slipped a hand on her back, fondling her skin above the piece of cloth covering her body while she reached for the button of his pants under his coat.

The atmosphere switched, not even seconds earlier it was love talking, now it was a whole another emotion ruling them.

Tom started to walk toward the door, forcing her to walk backwards. When she understood what he intended to do she murmured a soft “No.” and he opened his eyes darkened by desire and urge, looking into hers that were screaming for sex.

A smile grew on her lips as she went sticking her back to the nearest wall, her fingers strongly gripping on the man’s tie. He didn’t break the eye contact and joined her, flattening one of his hands on the cold wall. The warmth of his longing for the woman added to the coldness of the night were mixing together so well he felt a little dizzy.

He couldn’t think about how often he imagined them during their first time or how often he tried to picture Y/N’s curves in his head but his body somehow knew how much he wanted this. His hands were dawdling on any portion of her figure he could find, gulping each piece that was giving to him as if she was the first woman he’d ever touched.

Each kiss enticed him a bit more and whenever he closed his eyes he could literally see fireworks exploding everywhere in him. And whenever he would open them, he would find Y/N looking intently at him, her expression revealing everything she could never tell him, her feelings for him as well as her deepest fear, frustrations & beyond, her eyes being the messenger of the immensity of a soul, to another.

She quickly got to his bum she previously teased with one knee before reaching for his length.

Her cold fingers struck it a few times before she came aligning him with the distress for feeling him inside.

Once he was perfectly aligned, she released him and reunited her lips to his, where they belonged, giving him the green light. He thrust slowly at first, letting her some time to get used to his size. She murmured a low “Tommy...”, her legs encircling his hips as he grabbed one of them firmly. He was keeping her as close to him as possible, making sure their bodies were as connected as their souls were. He ultimately began to come and go, increasing his pace as time passed by.

Her high pitched moans came directly to his ears, the best sounds he’s heard out of his entire life without a doubt.

Following Chapter ❱

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n

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