#I spend like at least two hours playing/training/taking care of her but probably more than that on average 🧍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oneoftheextras · 3 years

Text

week two | porco galliard | forbidden february

masterlist | got a request?

forbidden february masterlist

paring: porco galliard x fem!reader

summary: porco has always caught your eye; he was handsome and funny, with that broody ‘i don’t care’ attitude that you loved. if only he wasn’t your brother’s best friend.

words: 5k

warnings: smut, (m)receiving oral, almost-voyeurism, vocal male, unprotected, lying?

a/n: modern au, the boys play volleyball, all characters are university age, i know that canonically porco and reiner hate each other but lets pretend for a sec okay?

“Mine!” Porco shouted as the volleyball flew high into the air. Although it was obvious that Jean had intentionally pushed the ball towards him, Galliard still felt the need to vocalise his claim on it.

He squatted momentarily before launching himself into the air, the flat surface of his hand striking the ball with so much force that it hurdled between the fingers of the two blockers and was on track to hitting the gymnasium floor.

“I’ve got it!” your brother, Reiner, had shouted eagerly and dived to retrieve the ball. Only for the ball to make a loud smacking sound against the ground quite a distance from Reiner’s outstretched hand.

The other side of the net erupted into yells and cheers whilst the other slowly picked themselves up - that was it, the game had been won.

You liked to think that you were a good sibling. You attended every single game that Reiner played in as well as, unwillingly, encouraging him through practice. Although, most days you found your eyeline drifting towards one player more than the rest.

“Are you ready to go?” Reiner’s voice called out loudly, echoing off of the tall gymnasium ceilings. Braun watched you snap yourself out of whatever daydream you were in and throw him a thumbs up and start to pack up your things.

He admired the fact that you’d bring your coursework with you to his practice games, despite knowing that he’d basically forced you to stick around by being your only way home off campus, unless he wanted to make you wait for the bus for an hour.

“Why don’t you ever let her hang out with us?” Eren asked, panting a little while wiping his head with his towel. Reiner looked up from his duffle bag that he’d just finished packing, “I do?” he replied with a confused tone. “No, I mean without you,” Eren smirked, his meaning clear.

Reiner’s nostrils flared in annoyance but he tried to not bite, “Cause you’re a creep, Eren,” Jean elbowed him, “Besides, I’m sure she’d rather spend time with me,” Jean wet his lips.

“Knock it off!” Reiner tried to have a warning tone to his voice but was conscious of his volume, he didn’t want you to overhear this type of conversation. He knew you’d probably play into it just to annoy him.

The two men laughed at their friend’s defensiveness, “What? It’s not our fault your sister’s hot!” Eren pushed again. Reiner stood up to his full height, shoulders back and an unamused look on his face.

“Do you guys ever shut the fuck up?” Porco interjected, putting his arm out in front of Reiner lazily. He didn’t raise his voice, but the dry tone caused the other two to stop their giggling.

The taller man could easily push past him if he wanted to, but having someone be on his side helped to calm him down.

“Come on, Galliard, you can’t tell me you don-” Jean started but was cut off by the jovial sound of your voice, accompanied by your approaching footsteps. “Ready!” you beamed.

At least he had the sense to halt his train of thought while you were within earshot. Jean liked to get under Reiner’s skin, but he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

The five of you waved goodbye to the other players who were making their own way home and headed towards the car.

You were about to open the door to the backseat until you heard your name being called. When you glanced upwards towards the sound, you saw Porco gesturing to the passenger seat with his keys in his hand.

“Take shotgun,” he pointed as he opened the driver’s side and got in. You looked at the door and then towards Reiner, who nodded at you to say it was okay. Reiner always sat shotgun.

Braun knew what his friend was doing and he was extremely grateful. He knew that if you sat in the back with Jean and Eren he wouldn’t hear the end of it - Galliard was protecting you.

Reiner climbed into the back, the car dipping noticeably, and muttered a quick “Thank you,” to Galliard before you opened the car door and did the same.

The journey was pleasant. Eren and Jean were loudly discussing tactics for the next match while Reiner sat awkwardly in the middle, adding his own thoughts every now and then.

Porco drove in silence, his eyes transfixed in a light scowl on the road ahead of him - it wasn’t unlike Galliard to look pissed off, normally he was, but he was a fairly quiet guy.

Admittedly, you’d had a small crush on the blonde man next to you for a few years, and it only got stronger as he got older.

You watched his left hand grip the steering wheel as his right rested lazily on the shift. It was somewhat mesmerising observing him while he was driving; he was in a state of peaceful concentration that was like admiring an endangered species at the zoo.

His jawline was sharp and the orangey-yellow hue of the passing streetlights would periodically highlight it for you.

“Can I help you?” he spoke without taking his eyes off the road, his voice was low enough for only you to hear it, the suddenness of his question made you jump slightly, “No?” you shifted in your seat and turned your head back to the front.

You were thankful that the sun had set hours ago because the low light was helping to hide how flustered you were.

“No?” he threw your question back at you as the car slowed at the stop sign. Porco turned his head to the left, “’Cause it seemed like you were staring at me,” he made eye contact with you briefly as he glanced in your direction, obviously checking for oncoming cars.

The ghost of a smirk littered his mouth as he turned his attention back on the road.

“I was watching you drive,” you shrugged in an attempt to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, “Why?” he asked with a scoff. “I wanna learn how to drive.” It wasn’t a lie, you did want to learn.

Taking public transport was unreliable and you felt bad hitching a ride with your brother all the time, you wanted the independence to go wherever you wanted when you wanted.

Although, you had been putting it off as an excuse to spend more time with Porco, even if Reiner was always present too.

“I could give you some pointers,” it was less of a question and more of a statement. Although the gruff tone of his voice made it sound a bit more suggestive than he was anticipating, “If you want me to that is?” he caught himself.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes to see your reaction, “S-Sure!” you nodded softly. “Reiner can sit in the back and you can just driv-”, he started but you cut him off, “No, it’s fine!” you interjected a bit too quickly, “I mean, isn’t it harder to drive with other people in the car?” was the first excuse you could come up with.

It hadn’t completely gone over your head that he was also offering for you to drive his car, something he was very precious over. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable,” a gentle smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and your heart all but exploded.

“He is basically the weight of three men,” you said, “Have you ever tried to pick him up?” Porco asked, taking his eyes off of the road to watch you smile at his playful tone, “I can’t say I have,” you turned your head to glance into the backseat.

Reiner sat in the middle with his arms folded across his chest, Eren and Jean still bickering about whatever either side of him, you made eye contact with your brother and he raised a questioning eyebrow at you. Probably to check if you were okay.

“Don’t.” Porco stated bluntly, “I tried it once and threw my back out for a few days.” You turned your head back to look at Porco and laughed, “Maybe you’re not as strong as you think you are!” you dared to tease him.

“Do you wanna test that?” he matched your energy, challenging you. “Yeah, I bet you can’t even lift me up!” you folded your arms in a similar way to Reiner, a habit you’d picked up from him. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that,” he said before stopping the car and yanking the hand break.

You hadn’t noticed but you’d arrived at Eren and Jean’s shared apartment. “Alright, get out my car!” Porco raised his voice and stared at the two men through the rear view mirror - his voice back to it’s normal monotone.

Eren and Jean lumbered out of the car and the three of you set off again, this time in complete silence until Porco handed you the aux chord for you to put your music on.

The apartment you and Reiner shared was fairly small, it’s tiny living room was connected to the kitchen but at least you had your own bedrooms.

It was about 2am and you’d stopped studying to get a glass of water. The TV was still on, playing some YouTube gameplay video while Porco laid on the couch watching it.

It wasn’t uncommon for Porco to stay over after practice, he and Reiner would play videogames in the living room until one of them eventually passed out, sometimes you’d join them but most of the time you had class in the morning.

“Hey.” He called out to you quietly when your figure snuck into view, “Sorry, did I wake you?” you whisper-shouted back from the sink, “Nah, you’re good,” he shifted so his arm was tucked under his head.

You tried to focus on pouring the water into your glass but his movement distracted you. He had a thin blanket wrapped around his waist with his bare torso on display - you’d seen Porco topless before but it never ceased to make you breathe slightly heavier.

Gulping down an entire glass of water and refilling it again, you started to go back to your room. You knew you should’ve kept walking and left your brother’s best friend alone but your feet stopped at the end of the couch.

“What’re you watching?” you asked, your voice taking on a small tremor, “Just some horror gameplay.” His statement lingered in the air for a moment.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, he swung his legs off the couch and sat upright, tapping the pillow next to him, “Sit, if you want,” he shrugged as though he didn’t really care whether you joined him or not.

Against your better judgement, you put your glass down on the coffee table and sat next to him, tucking your feet under your legs.

The two of you sat like that in silence until the video ended, the TV starting to auto-play the next one.

He wanted to talk to you more but he didn’t know what to say, or if he even should try to talk to you.

Porco was very aware of how protective Reiner was over you, he refused to leave you alone with any of his friends apart from Pieck and Annie - but he was Reiner’s best friend, he’d known you both for years, he’d be fine with him talking to you, right?

“How’re your classes?” Porco asked you, speaking over the video, “They’re okay, mostly,” you replied, neither of you looked away from the screen as you talked.

“Only okay?” Porco picked up on your wording, “Yeah, I’m passing everything but Magath’s class,” you sighed, remembering the paper that sat half-finished on your desk.

“He’s a hard ass for no reason, I had him last year,” Porco scoffed remembering how he almost got into a fight with the man over an essay score, “I can lend you my notes if you want?” he offered.

“Aren’t you being generous today!” You sang sarcastically. Not only had he offered to help you learn to drive but he was also suggesting that he’d help you pass one of your classes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Porco finally drew his attention from the TV to look at you, causing you to do the same, “Normally you’re all Mr. Moody Broody pants!” You laughed at how he clicked his tongue at you in annoyance.

“I can be nice when I want to be,” Porco rolled his eyes at you and turned his head back to the TV. “Which is never!” you pointed out, “No surprise you don’t have a girlfriend!” you continued.

As soon as the words left your mouth you realised what you’d said and wondered if you’d gone too far.

“And I’m supposed to be the mean one,” he commented. You were about to apologise until he opened his mouth to speak again, “What’s your excuse? I don’t see a boyfriend in your life!” he spun the topic back on you.

You physically relaxed, the tone of his voice indicated that he wasn’t hurt by what you said at least.

“I live with my brother! That’s my excuse!” you pushed his arm playfully and his body barely moved, “It’s a bit hard to bring someone back here when Reiner’s literally next door, and those walls are super thin.” You explained.

“Nothing kills the mood like ‘Be quiet my brother might hear us’, you know?” you were starting to ramble. “No, actually I think that would make it more fun,” Porco lifted his arm to scratch his undercut, completely unaware of the effect his words had on you.

You blinked and swallowed a lump of saliva that had formed in your throat, realising just exactly where this conversation had headed. It surprised you how casually Porco had made that statement, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Really? Damn you’re sick!” you chuckled in disbelief, “Or you’re just boring,” he countered.

He refused to look at you, he knew if he did then his eyes would give him away. This wasn’t a normal subject to talk about with your best friends little sister, even if you were only a year younger than him - but for some reason he couldn’t stop the words coming from his mouth.

Maybe it had just been too long since he last got laid, or maybe it was how he knew you’d intentionally worn nothing but a large t-shirt and your underwear to come into the kitchen.

He knew because you were wearing your normal pyjamas earlier when all three of you were eating dinner. Either he’d been extremely lucky or it had been intentional.

“I doubt you’ve even fucked someone before,” his thoughts were verbalised before he could stop them.

It was sinful how good that word sounded on his tongue, you felt your stomach twist as soon as it hit your ears.

You weren’t a virgin but you definitely weren’t experienced, “I have had sex before!” you defended yourself, a bit of pride echoing off of you.

“Does Reiner know?” he asked.

Your brain kicked in an processed what you’d just confessed, “No, of course he doesn’t!” you sunk down into the couch, wishing it would somehow reverse time and put those words back into your mouth.

You didn’t mind Porco knowing, but you were afraid that he would tell your brother who would then hunt down every guy you’d ever spoken to in order to find out who it was.

“I wont tell him,” Porco reassured you like he could read your thoughts and you let out the breath you were holding. “Thank yo-”, “-But that’s not what I meant,” he cut you off. “I said ‘fucked someone’, that’s completely different from just ‘having sex’,” he used air quotations to mock your phrasing.

You wanted to ask him what he meant and how was it any different but he started to answer your question before you could verbalise it.

“Fucking is like when you can’t not touch each other, like you’ve wanted that person for so long that you’d do anything just to get a taste of them-” you watched him make hand gestures as he explained, “-And when you finally get them you just go..” he seemed like he was searching for the right word, “Feral!” he clicked his fingers, “You just go feral.”.

His chest was rising and falling faster than before, and by he looks of the thin blanket over his lap, he’d wound himself up quite a bit.

“Ever done tha-” he started to ask as he turned his head to the side to face you but stopped when he saw your expression, he followed your eyeline and immediately shifted to bunch the blanket up a bit more to hide himself. He tried to be subtle about it but you knew what he was doing

You chuckled softly at the pink dust on his cheeks, “Sounds fun,” you commented, feeling a bit cocky in the wake of his bashfulness; although you did readjust yourself on the couch to try and release some of your own friction.

It was extremely obvious that he’d wound you both up, if not from the lingering silence in the air, then the sound of your joint laboured breaths is what gave it away.

“Yeah, it is fun,” he stuck his tongue out to wet his lips, “It’s even better if the tension’s been building for a while,” he was still facing you but his eyeline was focused on your hands that was playing with the hem of your shirt. “Yeah?” you breathed, urging for him to continue, “Mhmm,” he hummed, “If you’ve wanted each other but something’s always in the way or stopped you.”

You squirmed in your seat again, and he took the opportunity to gaze at your exposed thighs - he wanted to reach out and grab them but he didn’t want to make the first move, not until he was absolutely sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

He didn’t know what had come over him, but he couldn’t stop himself from talking now that he’d started.

“Personally, I like almost getting caught-”, “Ah, so you’re a voyeur!” you decided to drop one of the very few kink terms you knew, “You know that one then?” he quirked his eyebrow with mild surprise, “Kinda?” you admitted, “Not entirely though”.

This time he was the one to shift in his seat before continuing, “It’s stuff like, messing around in public, or-”, taking a deep breath and mustering all your courage, you interrupted him, “Or having to be quiet because my brother might hear us?” you said in a low voice.

Porco stopped speaking entirely, his eyes shot up to meet your face. You had your bottom lip tucked slightly in between your teeth and a lazy look in your eyes that screamed for him to do what he wanted with you.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered to himself before he sprung on you, gripping the back of your head and capturing your mouth with his. That was it, no going back now.

His kiss was feverous and desperate, as though he needed it to breathe. He sucked your lip into his mouth and nipped at it playfully, he then detached himself from your lips entirely to leave open mouth kisses along your jawline and throat.

It felt so good that it was like your skin was on fire, your hands trembled just trying to hold onto him and stop yourself from moaning from the minimal amount of contact he was giving you.

His hands moved up and down your sides and caressed your shirt covered skin, his fingertips grazed your thighs and gave them a testing squeeze to which you whimpered. His hand started to move under your shirt and towards your pantie line until you gripped his wrist and stopped him.

“Wait!” you panted and he immediately ceased all movement and pulled away from you enough to gauge your expression. “I’m sorry, did I-”, “I want you in my mouth.” You interrupted him for the second time that night.

When you told him to wait, he wasn’t quite expecting that to be the next thing you said.

He didn’t have time to comment before you were pushing him back into his seated position and slipping off the couch to kneel in between his legs, the blanket long gone.

Luckily, Porco had already stripped down to his boxers long before you’d come in to get your water, so it was easy for you to pull them down.

“Okay, okay- mmmh!” Porco clamped his mouth shut to try and muffle his moan as you wasted no time in reaching up and putting his cock in your mouth, you swirled your tongue around his head before hollowing your cheeks and taking as much of him as you could.

He was a lot bigger than you’d anticipated, and yes, you’d thought about it before, but nothing could’ve warned you about his size.

Regardless, you did your best to run your tongue up the base of his shaft in time with the movement of your head.

You felt his fingers entwine in your hair and rest gently on your scalp, you glanced up through your eyelashes expecting to see him looking down at you but you were met with the sight of his head thrown back over the chair and his mouth slightly agape.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he attempted to swallow his sounds but you could still hear the soft “Oh, fuck!”s and groans fall from his lips. It encouraged you to go faster but Porco pulled your head away from him by your hair as he lifted his head to look at you.

“As good as that is, I want to be inside you,” he panted, a light glaze of sweat coated his forehead and his pupils three times larger than before..

He helped you up off your knees and pulled your thighs to rest on either side of his lap. “Is that okay?” he asked as his left hand pulled your panties to the side and the fingers of his right hand traced your lips.

You went to answer him but as soon as you opened your mouth he pushed one of his fingers inside of you, the intrusion making a small moan come out of you. “Shhh!” he hushed you, a cocky smirk on his face, “You need to be quiet remember?” his arrogance had returned quickly.

Your hands rested on his shoulders for stabilisation while he moved his finger in and out of you slowly, but making sure he went as deep as he could go.

The soft sounds he was pulling from you was driving him crazy, his grip on your thigh was evidence enough of that, “Do you want me to fuck you now?” he asked in a such a low voice you almost didn’t hear it.

As soon as his words hit your ears you involuntarily clenched around his finger and he chuckled, his chest rumbling under your palms. You nodded your head quickly and ground your hips on his hand, trying to get some friction on your throbbing clit but he pulled his hand away and put his finger in his mouth.

He raised an eyebrow at you while he sucked his digit clean and you got the memo, “Y-Yes, please!” your bottom lip wobbled and your voice tremored.

He circled your entrance with his cockhead to gather your slick, but never broke eye contact with you, “Please?” he mocked your formality. His tip prodded at your lips and slowly started to push past them, only to pull back out again, “Please, please, please, please!” you started to beg desperately, your grip on his skin getting tighter.

How he’d managed such restraint for someone he’d wanted for so long, he didn’t know, but hearing you beg for him was the last tether of self control that he had snapping.

He gripped your hips and thrust up into you, your wetness allowing his cock to slide into your warmth with ease. He gasped sharply as you moaned, his head thrown back and eyelids blinking rapidly as a way to try and adjust to how tightly you were squeezing him.

It only took him a second to regain his composure, he held onto your hips firmly and fucked up into you at a hard but steady pace - Porco was blessed with a lengthy dick and he intended to use every part of it.

You could see his abs contract and tense with every thrust, your hand absentmindedly trailed down to the indents of his toned stomach.

Your moans were getting louder as you found his rhythm and matched it, bouncing yourself on his lap as his normally slicked-back hair fell in front of his eyes in small strands.

He wanted to hear every note your vocals would produce but now wasn’t the time for it, he clamped his hand over your mouth and you stopped your movements, thinking you’d done something wrong, but his thrusts continued.

“I said be quiet!” he spoke through gritted teeth but his thrusts contradicted him, they were harder and faster than before, “Do you- ah!- Do you want us to get caught?” he asked you, his words breaking halfway to let out a soft moan of his own.

You shook your head side to side as best you could with his hand over your mouth but your noises crept through the gaps of his fingers, “Well you’re acting like it!” he continued.

He hooked his hands under your knees and picked you up with ease before twisting to rest your back against the couch pillows. He used one of his hands to pin your thigh to your chest and the other extended out to rest on the arm of the chair above your head.

If you could’ve kept your eyes open for more than a few moments at a time you would’ve stared at every inch of his body looming over you, but the new angle had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your back bounced up and down the couch as he pounded into you, the two of you biting your lips in an attempt to try and muffle any noise other than the squeak of the couch legs against the shitty cheap carpet.

Porco shifted his grip on your thigh so your knee rested lazily on his shoulder in favour of circling your clit with his thumb. Your head shot backwards and your mouth started to open. He’d anticipated the sound that was going to come out of you and his other thumb was already cupped under your jaw with his palm holding your mouth shut again.

You screamed into his hand as you pulsed around his cock, your orgasm coating him and his dark blonde pubic hair. Only then did his hips start to lose their rhythm.

He lowered his body until his chest was flat against your own, his head resting in the crook of your neck so he could continue to leave open mouth kisses and bites along your throat. He kept one hand covering your mouth - not quite trusting you to be conscious enough to keep your noises to a minimum, while the other gripped your hip.

He was lost in you, rutting himself blindly against your warm insides, and moaning gently against your neck; you could feel the vibrations of his sounds against your skin.

Your hands rested in his undercut and tugged on his short strands as he got faster and harder, his moans turning into guttural groans that you hoped were at least damped by your shoulder.

He snapped his hips to yours and let out a lengthy and choked sigh - his laboured breathing hitting the wet patches he’d made on your throat.

After a few moments of blissful silence, he lifted himself up so he could look down at you, removing his saliva covered palm from your mouth and wiping it on the couch cushion.

Looking up at him was heavenly, a few of his hairs had stuck to his forehead so you helped him wipe them away. You were just thankful it wasn’t weird between you now, but one thing did play on your mind once he’d pulled out and you both cleaned up as best you could.

“We probably shouldn’t tell Reiner,” Porco mumbled as you grabbed your glass of water with the actual intention to go back to your room now. “Duh!” you laughed, “I actually kinda like having you around, he’d kill you,” you inadvertently confessed, Porco picked up on it but decided to let it linger.

He smirked to himself as he listened to your footsteps disappear down the hallway.

“Good morning!” you yawned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Good morning!”, “Mornin’“ called back to you as you entered the living room and continued into the kitchen, the same way you’d done last night.

You started to fix yourself some breakfast when you glanced up and froze. Porco was sitting in the one beanbag you owned whilst your brother was taking up the entire couch for himself.

The couch you’d fucked his best friend on only hours earlier.

Your eyeline went to Porco who as already looking at you, he was trying his best to hide a wicked smile when his vision flicked over to Reiner for a second and then back to you.

He knew what you were thinking, because he was thinking it too. If only Reiner knew.

tags:

all:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane

#porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard fanfic #aot fanfic

227 notes · View notes

mavreads · 3 years

Text

5 times Yennefer leaned in on Jaskier and the one time he did. + Featuring halfelf!jaskier because I refuse to believe he is fully human.

Lambert doesn't trust the witch. Not even a little bit. Sure as hell not now that she got her powers back.

Everytime she wiggles her fingers he gets an unsettling feeling in his core. And he hates it. And he hates how everyone seems to have forgotten that she is the reason for their brothers death.

Voleth Meir possessed Ciri because of her. And nobody seems to remember.

"Don't rush it, Cirilla, magic takes time" it's like the third time now she's said it, and somewhere deep inside he can admit that Cirilla is in fact trying to rush through todays training, but it's starting to grate on his nerves nonetheless and he has to stop himself from throwing the rag he's using at the witch's head.

It's not a good idea, he knows, doesn't mean it's not tempting.

The princess is getting increasingly frustrated but the witch doesn't seem to tire. She's a fine teacher, he'll give her that. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, let that be clear.

He's been done with his sword for a while but he'll be damned if he leaves them alone; to hell what geralt thinks of her.

He knows the witch doesn't like him being there, she seems nervous somehow, if not nervous at least uneasy and that brings him more satisfaction than it probably should. But he really doesn't have it in himself to care about her feelings.

"Don't lose your temper, focus on the outcome" Ciri slumps on the ground, frustration clear on her features. "It's no use, if I'm not in danger it just won't come" the witch features soften when she glances at the princess and lowers herself on the ground next to her.

"You know, contrary to popular belief, I was in your place once. Stop looking at me like that, I was. No matter how hard I tried Chaos wouldn't come to me. And it was so frustrating I wanted to give up. So many times it's kind of a miracle I'm here now." Lambert doesn't exactly believe her, but her heartbeat hasn't changed, so there must be at least some truth in her words. But Cirilla is looking at her in a soft kind of way. Like she can see the truth in her words, like it makes sense for the witch to have gone through that.

It doesn't, if you ask Lambert. But whatever helps Cirilla is welcome, even if it comes from that witch. And Cirilla is getting up to try again, so it does help her.

They go on for a while and the witch seems confident that, if they keep going, Ciri will be able to perform whatever spell they're trying perfectly by the end of the day.

And they're still trying when a soft music distracts them. Cirilla looks up from her hands, briskly smiling at the newcomer. Jaskier bows a little like he always does for Cirilla and then proceeds to unceremoniously sit on the ground and start plucking at his lute.

Lambert almost misses it, the way the witch smiles softly at the troubadour even when he isn't looking. It's a strange thing, he knows from Geralt that the two don't have a history of exactly going along. But there's no other way to read her expression. She looks more at ease now that he's here.

It bugs him for the rest of their training, that soft look and the way the witch is smiling a little more now. He trusts the bard, has no reason not to, but the fact that the witch seems to like him makes him suspicious of things he might have missed about him.

Surely there's something wrong with him if the witch likes him.

So he spends the next hour or so observing the bard closely, to try and see what it is that the witch sees. To find what he's missed.

He has nothing, when an hour later Vesemir calls Cirilla in.

He's gonna follow the princess in, he really is, but then the witch walks directly up to the bard and stand in front of him, waiting.

It takes almost less than a moment for Jaskier to react, he stops playing and puts his lute to the side looking up at the witch with a soft expression.

"Draining you, isn't she?" there's no malice in the bard's voice while the witch sits next to him.

Lambert was going to follow Cirilla in, he was. But now he wants to hear what they have to say to each other.

"She's doing her best, really. But I feel like I'm doing something wrong" the witch mumbles, it feels heavy, like an admission, like she had to fight herself to say it outloud. "You're doing your best too, darling, stop being hard on yourself"

The witch smiles and then something Lambert would have never expected happens. She leans on him. Her head on his lap and her back on the hard ground, and Jaskier doesn't look surprised either. He just keeps smiling at her and then his hands reach her hair and he starts threading his fingers through it.

Lambert leaves then. Not willing to know how far the affection between them actually goes.

He's confused, quite a lot actually; but he doesn't mention it. Not even to Geralt, not even when he sees them coming in sometime later, both wearing twin smiles, not even when they keep sharing conspiratory glances. Sure as hell not when they leave together after dinner.

He's not getting involved, thank you very much. That's Geralt mess.

"So now your father is insisting Geralt demands something, anything in return for saving his life - Ciri knows how the story goes, but she sits nicely next to her friend listening avidly- and what does our witcher do then? He claims the law of surprise. Which I might add, considering the shit show that just went down was kind of a dumb thing to do, if you happen to ask me." The princess giggles at that, that's not how he told the story last time; but then again, Jaskier never sticks to the same version of a story twice.

"He did get quite the surprise in the end." The bard adds as an afterthought, smiling brightly at her.

Ciri still feels sorry for how she treated him when they first met, she knows that Jaskier holds no resentment over it, but still. He was just trying to be amicable and she dismissed him completely.

And she really wants to make up for it, if just for the fact that she knows Geralt still hasn't apologised properly to her new friend and at least one of them has to be nice to him.

Jaskier deserves it. Because he does his best to keep her happy and careless, in the rare moments they get that is; because he takes care of her in a way nobody else at the keep manages. Because he makes her feel like her old life is not completely lost.

And he tells her stories, so many of them. Some about her grandmother's deeds, some about her mother's life before her.

It's weird, thinking that he knew her. Especially since he never told anyone but her. It's their secret, he says as he tells her how her mother loved daffodils above all other flowers. It's their secret, while he lists the books her mother used to love. It's their secret, the way she used to sneak away in the night to meet him in the gardens and talk about pointless nothings till morning. It's their secret, her dream to see the coast one day. It's their secret, how she wrote about a cursed lover in every last letter she sent out for him. It's their secret, how she met him right before his performance to bid him good luck and steal a story about the White wolf that had followed him into her kingdom.

It's their secret, and Ciri loves him for it. Getting to keep these little things for herself makes her feel closer to her mother than ever.

She has questions, though. Things she heard in passing that keep bothering her. Things she's scared to ask because what if she hurts him and he stops telling stories?

"You know, if you ever need somebody to talk to I can listen too, when I put my mind to it" how he manages it, it's still a mystery for her, but the Bard always knows what she needs. Decades spent reading a crowd, he will say anytime she asks. She doesn't press, he'll tell her one day, at his pace.

"What do you know about a djinn?" She knows it's the wrong thing to ask the moment Jaskier smile falters. It's a second, but it's still a second too much for him.

She goes for an apology when Jaskier starts his story. He smiles through it all, never faltering. But it's his stage smile, the one he puts on when Geralt is in the room, the one that never reaches his eyes.

The story in itself feels like a lot more serious than what he makes of it, but she can't fault him for that; he always does it for her benefit anyway.

"And that's how Yen and Geralt found themselves tied by a shared destiny" Jaskier ends the story solemnly but he's grinning at her. And she's smiling too, because really how could she not when Jaskier just painted Geralt as the biggest idiot on the continent?

"How do you do it?" it's sudden, and she really doesn't know what she wants to ask, but he's here and he's looking at her like he'll tell her anything she asks; and nobody ever does that so openly, so of course she has to ask.

Jaskier is confused, tilts his head and asks her to explain. The question she had before is different from the one she ends up asking, but it's even more valid.

"How did you keep your heart? After everything you saw with Geralt, and alone. How did you not lose your humanity?" and that's the point, isn't it? Jaskier is so important to her because he's human. So much she forgets he's not, not actually. So much she regrets ever wanting to become emotionless like what witchers should be.

"It's a matter of spite, really." he starts, she wants to laugh but knows him enough to know that now's not the right moment. "The world out there is cruel, you saw it. And the people are too." She's never heard his voice so somber and she wants to stop him, just to hear his light tunes again; but he goes on, against the lump in his throat,

"The world will do its best to take away your heart, eat at your soul until there's nothing left. And sometimes it will feel like letting them win is easier. But in those times you have to ask yourself: are you willing to lose yourself to someone else's wish?" It's pointless, shaking her head, he knows the answer already. But she needs to do it, confirm that he does know her, that she is not willing to lose herself, ever, especially not for someone else to see. "That's what you have to hang onto. That fire. You're stronger that what the world does to you, and you're more than what destiny made of you. Keep it, if just to spite those who want to see you break."

She's not crying, but it's a close thing. He looks at her, and he knows it too. Jaskier opens his arms for her to hide in, and she crashes onto his chest, letting his arms ground her.

"Mind if I join?" she doesn't know how much time she spent in his arms when the door opens. Yennefer is smiling at them, there's an edge to her entire being and she looks exhausted. Outside the door she can see Geralt, on the other side of the corridor, he's fuming and it doesn't take her long to know they fought again.

"Of course not, dearest, come. There's enough space for the three of us on the bed." Yennefer closes the door behind her and Ciri is ready to move so that she can take her place. But Jaskier just moves her to one side while Yennefer wordlessly sits on the other.

Jaskier has barely the time to lift his arm for her, when Yennefer leans on him, her head in the crook of his neck and the bard's arm around her shoulders. She looks calm, calmer than what she's used to seeing her; and Ciri smiles at that. Yen deserve some peace and calm.

She's unsure of what to do, when Jaskier tightens his hold on her just so and she shuffles closer sighing into the hug.

It's weird, the way Jaskier presses Yennefer closer too; or the way his face is turned into her head, his lips grazing her hair. It's even more weird, the way Yennefer goes boneless against him, letting him support her weight entirely.

It feels safe, staying like this. She's aware that technically her and Yennefer are the powerful ones, she knows that it's them that could keep Jaskier safe against anything. But right now, Jaskier feels safe, his arms the closest thing to peace for either or them, and she feels small, like she's a kid hiding from Mausesack all over again.

She has it in herself to be worried about Geralt, but it doesn't last long, can't, with how Jaskier resumed his babbling just to distract them.

She expects Yennefer to say something, shush him even. But she just smiles in his neck and closes her eyes.

It's peaceful, like this. And it's just what they need.

Vesemir finds her in the library. An open book on her crossed legs and her head pressed against the cold wall. To say he's surprised is an understatement.

He knew to find her there, he wasn't expecting to find her asleep is all. She must have been exhausted if it happened.

What doesn't surprise him, however, is how much of her dignity she keeps, even while unconscious. The grace she carries herself with during the day still present even in her softened limbs, her expression guarded even in her slumber.

He sees it, the power Geralt speaks of; even if she does her best to withhold its full extent. Her power is in her every word, movement and glance. Only a fool would treat her with anything but utmost respect.

Even Lambert does, for all his distrust.

He's careful when he shakes her lightly. Doesn't want to spook her or anything. Her eyes flutter open and she looks back at him, she doesn't seem to see him at first. Then with a start she regains the rigidity in her body, her eyes clearer and the softest blush on her cheeks.

She clears her throat, getting up. But her legs wobble under her and he reaches his hand out, not daring to touch her but offering nonetheless. She looks embarrassed, but refuses to cower under his eyes.

Smiles and takes his arm while he offers to walk her back to the room she's staying in. She must be more exhausted than what he thought, because she nods and motions for him to walk her with the hand currently not entangled in his arm.

The walk to her room is not a long one but they manage to run into Jaskier and Geralt on their way.

Whatever Jaskier was going to say gets lost the moment they turn the corner. The bard looks their way and huffes at them. He doesn't turn to dismiss Geralt, just walks up to them and greets him.

Vesemir smiles at the colourful troubadour. He likes the child, can see why Geralt kept him around for so many years. What he can't wrap his head around is how someone that looks so soft and amicable managed to get accustomed to the Path and all it entails.

He knows that the answer is probably in the way the man looks barely past twenty even after two decades with Geralt; it lies in the subtle way his ears are just slightly pointed, in the way he understands Yennefer when she speaks elder and in the way he answers. He knows the answer lies plainly in front of his eyes. But if Geralt was able to ignore it for more than twenty years then so can he.

He was going to keep walking Yennefer to her room, when the witch calls out to the artist in the smallest way.

Jaskier turns to her immediately upon hearing her voice, tilts his head and, just like he first did in the library, holds his hands out. Waiting.

He wasn't expecting Yennefer to just reach out and take ahold of it, or to grip his forearm with the other hand; wasn't expecting the bard to put a hand on her back, smiling, and start guiding her to her room.

He's even more surprised when Yennefer gets closer to him, puts her head on his shoulder, and leans on him. All without stopping in her tracks. It looks so casual, and so familiar too. Like something they're used to.

He can hear Jaskier lively voice humming softly to her, and he can still hear it when they turn the corner. That too seems something they do a lot.

He then turns to his wolf. Geralt is staring at where the two disappeared, head dipped and fists clenched.

He doesn't know what was going on between him and the bard, doesn't know how to ask even. He doesn't have to ask though. Geralt's voice is small, he's whispering, when he says. It's a confession, a painful one. One Vesemir doesn't know how to take.

He's lost him.

That's what Geralt says, in the silence of a lonely corridor. It takes him by surprise, that his focus is on the bard and not on the witch. That what hurt Geralt wasn't the absolute trust the witch showed the other man, but the way he was so easily dismissed by a man that once hung onto his every world.

He doesn't think there's anything he could say to make it better, so he just clasps his hand on the Wolf's shoulder and pushes him towards his room.

Vesemir vows to never tell Geralt that he saw Jaskier come out of Yennefer room the next morning. Whatever is going on, is not his business.

It's been months, since the last time she saw Yennefer, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried.

Now, talking to this strange man, she can't help but feel her magic. It's all around him, entangled in his own. He doesn't even seem to realise how unsettled she feels. Whoever this man is, he knows Yennefer, and they must be close.

"That's why I was hoping for your help, my generous lady?" the man ends his chattering with a small bow. And she nods. She doesn't really know what he's asking for but she will help him, if only to try and understand his relationship with Yennefer.

His cornflower blue eyes are another unsettling thing about him. There's magic that lies deep within them, a magic that's ancient and dangerous. A magic that chills her to her core. But the man smiles so brightly and so tenderly, even to her, that she's compelled to trust him.

The thing he's asking for, turns out, is very simple. And it happens to be an enormous revelation for her.

He asked for a way to share his energy with another magic user. A friend, he says. But there's no kind of friendship that could grant such a devotion, such a sacrifice.

It's not painful, but it leaves the other person drained, and it's usually a spell cast without consent. So there's two logical conclusions she gets to: either this man his deeply in love with the person he intends to share his energy with, or she just found the most generous man on the continent.

Either way, she's both surprised and worried at the certainty of this man's will, but she's not one to refuse helping. And she still hopes to gain any knowledge about Yennefer or her whereabouts.

It doesn't take more than an hour for the man to learn the spell. And in the entire hour he was able to not answer to any of her questions.

And it's not that he didn't speak, he actually did anything but stay silent; it's that, every time she would question him about the friend he plans on sharing his energy with, the man started prattling about friendship and it's importance, or sharing stories about golden dragons, or singing melodies she's heard somewhere but can't quite place.

He's a artful man, a wordsmith of sorts, one that twists words daily if she was to guess. Used to employing words to get where he wants, pushing the conversation away from him without ever stop talking.

And she's frustrated now. Because it can't be Yennefer, the magic user, since she lost her Chaos. So now Tissaia has to find another way to get the truth out of him.

She ends up following him to an Inn, once he leaves her. She is admittedly not good at disappearing but the man seems so lost in his thought that he doesn't realise he's being followed.

She enters after him, a spell concealing her apparence, another making her almost a ghost.

She sees him sit at a table with a young girl, with blonde hair and deep green eyes. And there's something about the girl, too. The same kind of power he seems to have, just stronger.

She sees him smile at her, always bright and tender, and sees the way the girl lights up at his presence. She's enthralled by them, the peace they project is a stark contrast to the power they both posses.

She's so focused on them that she doesn't realise another person entered the Inn until they pass in front of her table.

It's Yennefer, there's no doubt in her mind. She knows her to her core, and there's no mistaking The way she moves through the crowd, high and proud. The way she walks, sure and unyielding. The power emanating from her.

She's got her Chaos back, she knows before she even registers it. And suddenly everything she heard from the strange man with the cornflower eyes makes sense. No other witch in the continent would hunt a dragon.

She feels relieved, and angry; happy, and betrayed. There's so many emotions swirling through her brain she takes a moment to just observe her.

And then her certainty falters. Yennefer, or who she thought was Yennefer, reached the table with the strange man and the girl and she's leaning on him. Her front pressed to his back, one of her hands found her home on top of his head and the other on his shoulder, her arm across his chest.

Her touch so delicate while her shoulders lose their tension. Her face is hidden by her hood but strands of her hair are hanging loosely out of it, and when she lowers herself to rest her head on top of his the man moves it out of the way so carefully one would think it's the most precious thing in the world.

Yennefer stays like that for a couple minutes, not moving an inch. And then she removes her hand from his head and moves her face so that her nose is brushing his hair. The man smiles when her hands find the sides of his face and she presses a kiss to his hair.

Then he takes her wrists, ever so gently, and guides her to sit next to him. The smile slotted in place, as natural as ever.

She doesn't know Yennefer has spoken until he sees the man answer, she's too far away to hear him but his face keeps the softness he had with the girl.

But then Yennefer turns abruptly to him and slaps his arm, it's a small thing. Not really meant to do any damage. And the man grins at her, moving his hands all over; explaining the spell she taught him by the looks of it.

When Tissaia followed the man, she hoped she'd find Yennefer there. She wanted to talk to her, convince her to go back to the brotherhood with her; where she could keep her safe.

But now she's leaving the Inn. Yennefer hasn't even realised she was ever there. She's leaving the Inn, and she's also leaving behind the worry that has plagued her mind in the last months.

Yennefer is safe, she has her Chaos back, and she has the man with the cornflower blue eyes with her.

She might not know him, but she knows he'll keep her safe for her. The same way she knows the sun rises in the est and sets in the ovest.

It started casually, after Voleth Meir.

The first time she found him she was exhausted and he was there, ready and tender. She was still regaining her full strength and didn't really trust anybody yet.

Jaskier was a safe place, warm; she knew he would keep her safe, even against a keep of witchers. Because that's what he did, that first time.

She had just healed Coen, when she felt her legs give out. She didn't even have to call out to him, Jaskier was already there, waiting.

It had been so easy to just lean on him then. So safe too. And he had been ready to shield her, from their looks, then. He put his body between her and them, gave her the time to regain her composure. She smiled up at him that first day. And then she never stopped.

Everytime she needed him, he was there, waiting. Ready to be the rock she'd lean on. A comforting word or a soft melody always at the ready. Babbling if he sensed she needed distracting, giving reassurance when everything else failed.

He saw her before, when he chaos failed her, and he kept seeing her after she got it back.

She's so grateful for him. Now more than ever. Hiding from Nilfgaard, her energy depleted, Ciri shaking and Geralt at a loss for what to do. She's grateful for the subtle magic enveloping the cave they're hiding in; she's grateful for the strong arms keeping her up now, and the lips pressed to her temple while he shares a little of his energy with her.

If she felt better, now, she'd tell him to stop. If she felt better she would push him away so that he wouldn't tire for her. She's not feeling better tough, and she's helpless against the confort he's offering. So she's leaning on him, now like always, letting him be her rock. Letting the comfort of his presence keep her safe. Letting the world disappear for a while, knowing he wouldn't let it see her like this.

And that's the point, really. He doesn't have to be stronger than her. That's not what he does, he hides her, when she can't be her strong self. He doesn't have to be stronger, he sees her weakness, and he makes sure it's their secret. He doesn't want to be strong with her, his touch is always tender, and his voice is always soft. He jabs at her only when he knows she can take it, only when he knows she can stand strong by herself.

Soft hand and calloused fingers have traced her arms and back countless times, providing comfort. His smile a safe harbour where she can shed her fears, and her nightmares. His voice, usually loud and demanding, becomes soft and tame when the world is too much for her to bare. She's pressed so much against his chest she knows he'll always catch her.

She barely registers anything outside of him, her eyes slowly closing, sleep calling at her. But he smiles against her, and nods. Lifts her a little and settles on the ground better, his back against the wall and his arms tight around her.

She barely registers Cirilla coming closer, sitting next to him, and placing her head on his shoulder. She barely registers one of his arm going to hold the girl closer. She barely registers Geralt's instruction to stay where they are. Before she knows it she's falling asleep to Jaskier's soft voice still close to her temple.

She wakes up sometime later. Ciri and Geralt on the other side of camp talking in low tunes. She wakes with her head on his lap, her back to the hard ground, and one of his hands combing through her hair. She smiles up at him before even opening her eyes, and when she does she finds him mirroring her expression.

"Welcome back love, how are you feeling?" groggy, would be her answer if they were alone; but they're not, and she has to appear stronger than she feels. Her weakness is for him to see and hide.

"I have slept in worse places, bard" his smile is conspiratory now. He knows what she means, and she smiles back. Turns to the two people across from her and smiles. Gets up, leans on him a little more; she just has to get the unsteadiness of sleep out of her limbs, is all. He doesn't complain though, but then he never does.

She's aware of Geralt eyes on them now, with her head where his heart is, and his legs around her. She knows he wants to ask, but she doesn't want him to. Scared that if someone points it out he will stop. He doesn't, when Ciri asks her if she wants to sleep on the bed roll.

Shakes her head and hugs herself closer to him. His arms around her hips now, and his head on her shoulder. Her back pressed to his front, and his touch still the most tender thing she ever felt.

He's holding her now, even if she's stronger. He's holding her now, shielding in ways nobody ever has. He's holding her now, just because he wants to.

+ 1.

Huh? Oh.

Oh.

This is bad.

Really bad.

It's stopped?

Why has it stopped?

This can't be good. Uh uh, it can't.

They must be planning something bad, something worse.

Shit.

Thanks the Gods for Yennefer spells.

Nobody's going into his mind again, thank you very much.

Sure as hell not this two fuckers.

It's cute though, how their burns match.

What's that sound?

Oh, it's him.

He's... laughing?

They messed him up pretty badly.

He'll write a song. If he gets out of here. He will. He just has...

He has to....

Fuck. What is he supposed to do, again?

"Jaskier!"

Huh?

Yennefer? Nah, there's no way.

Must be Crazy lady.

She didn't have that voice before though. Ah well, magic.

Should he open his eyes? Okay no he can't, good. He didn't want to anyways.

Melitele's tits what are these sounds?

What kind of game are they playing now?

It won't work.

How did Yen call him? Ah yes!

The firefucker didn't break him once, he won't break him now.

Firefucker, ha!

The jokes he could come up with, if only he could speak.

His tongue.

They didn't cut it off, right? Right, no. Right, he can feel it.

"Please wake up, Jask."

Geralt? Nope. Can't be him.

Geralt is never this soft. Not to him, at least.

But... no!

It's them.

They're playing with his mind, they've been doing so for the past.... How long has been here?

Oh well, doesn't really matter now does it?

Ehi! What are they doing now?

Nononononononono not his hands!

Not again!

Oh Gods this is bad.

Huh?

They're..?

No, it must be a mistake.

They're untying him?

What do they want to do to him?

Why don't they just kill him, huh? He won't say anything.

"Nobody is killing you! Jaskier stop!"

What?

How do they know her voice?

Are they into his mind already? No, no, no. Yennefer's spell is still in place, he can feel it.

What is going on?

Who the fuck is hugging him?

Is this a new technique? Nope, won't work, sorry.

Stop touching his face!

Oh!

Did he just..?

Yes!

Ha!

He spit in the firefucker's face!

Oh!

He spit in the firefucker's face!

He's gonna hurt him so bad now. He won't recoil! He's Jaskier the bard! He doesn't cower to firefuckers! Or their Crazy lady friends!

Oh but these hands are so soft on his face.

He... Does he know this touch?

Yes!

Nobody else is so tender with him!

But it can't be!

What are they doing with their eyes?

Oh!

Was it a spell?

Wait.

Geralt?

This is a trick.

Has to be.

He needs to get far away from him. Whoever he is!

Geralt never looked at him like that!

Oh fuck who did he crush into? Why won't his legs cooperate? He can't get up!

Yennefer.

Trick.

He knows.

But she's reaching out to him. Her hands are upturned. Her smile. Nobody could fake that smile. Could they? Maybe if he reached out, he'll be able to tell.

Right? Right.

"That's it, dearheart, you're safe now."

It's... Oh Gods.

It's her.

Like really really her.

She's holding his hands.

Is he smiling? He feels like smiling.

What is she..? Oh! This is new.

Oh, but is it nice!

He could stay like this, rest.

She's safe. That much he knows. And she'll protect him.

Wait so... Geralt.

Oh Gods!

Did he spit into Geralt's face? Oh!

Why is he looking so sad?

Jaskier is safe now. He's with them again!

He's... could it be..?

No, he has no reason to.

Her arms are tightening around him. Her face is in his hair.

Is she crying? Yen no. Stop.

How can he stop her? His arms are so heavy.

He could... Okay, he's doing it now.

Leaning into her.

She did it so much in the past, now he knows why. It feels so good.

She's so safe, and warm, and tender, and safe. No wait, he already said safe! But she is. Really much so. Ah.

He should do it more.

"Yes. You should, dearheart, how much you want."

See?

This is nice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Is this bad? yes. Could it be worse? also yes. Has this been sitting in my drafts for weeks? again yes. Will I notice something deeply wrong with it only after I posted? you guessed it! yes.

ah! anyways.

141 notes · View notes

sweettodo · 4 years

Text

Promiscuous.

⟿ Levi Ackerman x freader x Eren Jaeger

Includes : threesome, swearing, smut.

word count : 4,5k.

for 300 followers, i promised i would bless you all with a few stories. this was a tough plot to come up with b/c the age difference, but i always come thru :)). enjoy. thank you for 300 friends, readers, and fans. one more story on the way, hope you like !!

Being in the scouts wasn't necessarily all that bad, especially when you had all the strong, agile men to look at all day long.

You didn't bite your tongue, the gushy, teenage girl flirtatiousness that you bestowed upon not one, not two, but a good sum of the boys you worked and trained with every day. Most of whom were your closest friends, who put up with your promiscuousness. For the most part, they fed into it, reciprocating the behavior. But it couldn't be avoided that you took a special liking towards your Captain; Mr. Ackerman himself.

Call it unnatural, call it unusual, but you had a justification for liking him so much. If he said the right thing in the right context, your knees would be shaky and weak, for instance, when he demanded you to 'shut up' half-jokingly for fooling around with Connie too much. You left training that day with a waterfall between your legs, leaving you stunned for at least a week.

The ideas in your head were endless and slightly disturbing. There was no denying you were captivated by him, and he knew it.

Not to mention he took a fondness to you too...

Well, not how you quite anticipated him too. He just believed you were a capable scout, thus him taking you under his wing with your friends. Leaving aside your whorish comments. He took your ignorant attitude with a grain of salt, not allotting you the time of the day- which only made it more of a challenge to get what you yearned much for.

He would scoff, walk away and roll his eyes, reprimanding you on behaving yourself and acting your age. You were 19, you were acting your age, 'I could be worse,' you mumbled under your breath.

Being the species of girl who was drawn to a particular type of man, power play, that sharp attitude which one with a level head and a drop of common sense would take as a definite red flag, the type of man that would punish you for being horny or bratty- you could only dream- it was also clear you couldn't bluff and say that you didn't favor the infamous Eren Jaeger: the strong-willed, wild, dominant and overbearing youthful man. He could command you to get on your knees, and you would in a flash.

Alas, you would not be seeing the pearly gates with what went through your mind about the long-haired, tall, demanding man. On the plus side-unlike Levi- Eren enjoyed the attention you gave him, he played the game with you.

And he played the game good- you liked it.

On numerous occasions, you would be more than touchy with Eren, the little 'not so serious' back rub, or a hand on his thigh under the table to make him hot and bothered. And once or twice, the rare make-out session in an alleyway while your friends shopped or by the stable of horses one time when you were sixteen. Though the sexual tension grew once you turned eighteen when you two were less apt to get in trouble for your conduct- yet you never took it all the way, liking the idea of having him on his toes every time he saw you.

Anyways, today was different than most days, you all were honored with a few days of relaxing, sleeping in, and extra time to eat and shower with no training, or missions.

Appreciating the peace, you lay in your bed buried under the blankets half asleep, taking in the unusual time of relaxation. While nearing slumber again, you're rudely interrupted. A pounding on your door riddles throughout your body, frightening you half to death, you flinch, sitting up in an instant.

"Food! y/n." oh, it was Connie.

You untangle from the blankets, sauntering to your wardrobe, and pulling out a regular old white shirt with shorts. The heat was not something to take lightly around here, you could collapse and suffer from a heat stroke if you weren't careful, so you rolled up your shorts a little and slipped on shoes, taming your hair and heading out of your messy room towards the mess hall, eyes finding your friends and groggily plunging into the bench besides Eren and your other buddies, "sleep well?" Connie laughs, you scowl at him.

"Yea! I was dreamin' about you too! Too bad you ruined it, I was just getting to the good part."

Connie laughs and shakes his head, shoveling food down into his mouth, "I don't even wanna know what that dream was about." Jean grumbles, ruffling his hair to remove it from his clammy forehead; Jean was a difficult one to crack, he usually blushed and would cut your trifling demeanor right off at the knees, he was more for Mikasa's quiet and ethical personality.

"Shut it Kirstein- I do!" Connie protests, you wink at him.

"I'll tell you when I get you alone, how 'bout that Springer?"

Eren could be heard from your left, snorting, you glance over and see his arm raise and head towards your back, yanking your bra and snapping it back against your skin, you unleash an 'ouch' and attempt to reach back and rub the area, "White shirt with a red bra underneath? Who're you tryna' impress?" You shrug.

"Captain, of course."

"More like you dressed in the dark this morning." Eren bullies.

"Captain, what?" Connie and Sasha childishly roll and bounce around in their seats, bellowing laughter while you slowly turn around to face your boss, he reiterates one more time before you chuckle and scratch the back of your neck.

"Talking about how good my boss looks today," the words that roll off your tongue make The tense up and sigh in annoyance, beginning to walk away, you pout, tilting your head, "am I wrong?"

"Keep it up, y/n, I'll have you in a cell indefinitely if you continue this adolescent behavior." He doesn't look twice at you, leaving as quickly as he came. Halting your comments right as they came flying out of your mouth, he had to have been enjoying them! Perhaps a little.

Right as the man in charge begins to leave the hall, he stops, peers his head over to meet your eyes.

"-In chains." Your eyes widen, a perverted grin growing onto your face, looking left to right baffled, 'in chains?' gawking to see if any of your friends noticed the innuendo, but it seemed they were well absorbed in their own business.

But someone heard him.

"In chains?"

You look at Eren, he shared the same shock as you, you wriggle your eyebrows and nudge his side, "I'm not the only one who heard it, so maybe I'm not going crazy." You giggle, finishing your meal and gossiping amongst your friends until it was time to go.

To pass time during the day, you all wasted hours cleaning up to your captain's expectations, finally relieving yourselves for the rest of the evening before dinner; walking down the streets of your town, stopping at the shops down the gravel streets. While everyone talks, your head is elsewhere; replaying that remark Levi made about the chains, borderline obsessing over it- rightfully so.

When he said the word 'chains', you instantly recalled the context behind his innuendo, unless you were going insane, but you had made a joke- your first endeavor at flirting with your boss, mentioning to him using the same chains he used on Eren in court a few years back, your friends condemning your extraverted behavior on the spot; when to no avail, Levi did not feed into that well, sending you to isolation shortly after. And then to Erwin's office to explain yourself... in front of him, Commander Hange, and Levi. Nonetheless, it didn't stop you from toying with the man.

You were somewhat... wild.

Enjoying the rest of your stress-free hours, you spend the evening sitting comfortably in the large common area after dinner; all of you except Eren, who didn't appear at dinner either. God knows where he was.

You lounge beside Armin and Jean, your head on Jean's shoulder per-usual.

"Jean, has Mikasa told you how good you look today?" You hum, his face is instantly soaked up in a rosy flush as he throws his hands over his ears to block your weird comments from reaching his ears, "Mikasa?" you quirk an eyebrow.

"Don't be absurd, y/n" she laughs, "Jean, don't listen to her."

"Jean, you look extra good today," you lean over closer to him, "just thought I'd tell ya'."

"Yeah, yeah." He cracks a small smile, you pat his shoulder then fall back into your seat.

"Awh- c'mon Kirstein, you know I-"

"Y/n, Captain needs to see you..." Eren's voice interrupts the chatting, his head peers into the room, you and your friends falling silent.

"You're probably in trouble again." Armin sighs disappointingly. You promptly stand, "good luck." dragging your feet towards your supposed 'escort', Meeting Eren at the door frame of the corridor, his hands stuffed in his pockets with a deadpan look, watching you begin to take lead ahead of him, "how do you know Levi wants to see me?" You question, examining him whilst walking through the hallways, up the stairs, and around the corner, a few feet away from your Captain's headquarters.

"We talked."

With an uncertain look on your face, churning with turmoil, Eren is knocking once, then twice before pushing open the engraved wooden door, 'Captain didn't even ask who it was at the door-' you furrow your eyebrows, his hand on your back, quickly whisking you into the large room, abruptly stopping in front of his desk.

Your feet are glued to the floor while Eren is closing the door. Levi stands there, propped up against his desk with his arms crossed. The room was eerily silent, you were becoming slightly intimidated. Do you stand? Talk? Sit?

The silence was unbearable.

"Do you need me-"

"I'm fed up, with your manner, cadet." Levi interrupts.

"If I may- Captain," He nods for you to proceed, "why is Eren here?" Captain was very much capable of taking care of reprimanding you on his own, you were almost irritated that Eren was lingering behind you, feeling his eyes burning voids in the back of your head, disrespectfully.

"Isn't that what you want?" Eyes doubling in size, you swerve your head to attempt and get a view of Eren, but Levi halts you once more, treading closer to you so you can look at him, "you don't need to look at Eren."

"I- I don't quite understand."

No one says anything. The air is now thick, more difficult to swallow for oxygen, you were entirely thrown off track with the way he was speaking to you, the way he was looking at you made you want to make a run for it, "Cat got your tongue? Y/n?" Chills rake up and down your body when you feel Eren's breath on your neck, sending your head flying behind you to see the blue-eyed devil almost pressed against your back, you look back at Levi frantically.

"Sit."

Without pause, your ass is planted into one of his chairs, "why aren't you being stubborn? Where's that attitude that constantly gets you into trouble?" Feeling as if you're shrinking, the two men are overlooking you, "go on."

"I- well,"

"She has nothing to say for herself, Cap." Eren looks at Levi, "told you she was all talk." He jabs, were you dreaming?

Your heart thumped out of your chest, you never dreamed of Levi taking it this far, especially when he was so professional... "y/n," Levi's finger touches underneath your chin, raising your head to look at the two men, "always teasing me when you do the same to Eren, so slutty, don't you think, cadet?"

Your mouth drops open at his use of words, finally- the game caught up to you, and you were facing the repercussions, "don't be all shy now."

"I'm not-"

"Then if you're not shy, get on your knees and show us how much you’ve wanted us.”

You hesitate to move, but eventually find yourself slowly sliding out of the chair and onto your knees, "not in my office, go in my room." Eren grabs your arm, walking towards his adjoining room, Levi opens the door and permits you to be ushered in by both him and Eren; Eren grabs you by the hair and directs you back onto your knees in front of your captain's bed, "she's so compliant now that she knows we aren't joking anymore," Levi scoffs, standing behind you while Eren is unbuttoning his jeans right in front of your eyes, a combination of anxiousness and warmth growing in the pit of your gut, looking up at him through your eyelashes, licking across your bottom lip hungrily.

"Be a good girl and open for Eren," Levi bunches up your hair from behind, removing it from around your face.

"Yes sir."

Sticking out your tongue, you try to relax your throat once seeing the size of the man, Levi's grip on your hair prevents you from getting a good look at it before his cock is nudging gently into your mouth, down your tongue, and to the back of your throat, fastening your lips around the base of his cock whilst swirling your tongue when he pulls out of your throat, groaning when your tongue works him with ease.

"So good," He hums, grabbing the sides of your face, Levi drops your hair from his hold so Eren can pick up his pace, using his hands to guide you; gagging and choking while he fucks your throat, saliva dripping down your chin, at the verge of tears, you take his length as far as you can manage. Eren grunting and huffing; only throbbing more when he sees the little tears drip down your cheeks. He heaves out of you, your tongue lolled out while strings of spit follow his cock, the men are astonished at the sight of you gasping for air, but they weren't going to tell you that.

"Are you gonna be good for me and our captain, princess?" Eren crouches down to meet your eyes, clever smile on his face, you nod and he stands you up by your armpit.

You had virtually no control over yourself, they were moving you to where they saw fit; right on your hands and knees into the soft plush sheets, "what do you want, y/n?" you listen from behind you, your head is yanked backward, Levi is there, his free hand wrapped around your jugular loosely, his shirt unbuttoned.

"I want you both to fuck me," you gasp out, they both snicker at you.

"Too easy, way too easy, such a fuckin' whore, imagine wanting both of us," Eren taunts, snatching your shorts down to your knees and lifting your shirt to grab onto the thin waistband of your underwear, "you want Jean to fuck you too? Got any other favorites?" Levi shoves you back onto the mattress, your arms catching you while Levi continues to remove your shorts from your knees, tossing them on the floor, rough hands caressing and pulling apart your ass, both men watch your panties slip in the separated cave of your ass, Eren pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra.

"N-o, only you guys."

"Who do you want more? Me or your other little fucktoy?" Levi sneers, moving to your front, once again lifting you by your chin, keeping you still while Eren rubs his fingers against the soaked cloth. Pulling upwards against your cunt, the pressure making your clit spasm and scream for the touch of his actual fingers, looking desperate and hungry at your captain.

"I- I can't choose."

Your chest rising and falling, Eren is finally relieving you from your panties, fingers instantly meeting your folds and slipping past your entrance with his two fingers, you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head, knuckles curving downwards to hook into you and find your sweet spots.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get both of us, even though you don't deserve it," Your captain smirks, getting on his knees, fiddling with the button of his slacks, zipping them down and pushing them past his thighs, "I think she needs to beg for it." He looks at Eren, his erection making itself known from beneath his boxers, fingers quickly scissoring the roots of your hair while he frees himself from his constraints.

"I wanna be your slut- please make me cum." They smile, pleased with your submissiveness.

Cock spilling with precum, he scooches towards your salivating mouth and holds your level to his cock, centimeters away, "so fuckin' wet, can't say I'm surprised you get off to this." Eren's tip rubbing between your folds, collecting the slick that was seeping from your hungry pussy. He pushes into you while Levi is pushing into your mouth, both holes becoming occupied by their pulsating cocks; they longed to fill you up, the torturous teasing you put them through the second you turned eighteen was bound to make them snap- you didn't know what you expected, to be honest, you asked for this.

Eren fucks you slow, savoring the feeling of you clench and suck him in further, pussy stretching from the sheer size of him, veins from the base of his cock hitting and rubbing against the very nerves that were screaming for him to go faster.

Levi fucks deep into your throat, he was about Eren's size, perhaps a little thinner, but he was no match for your throat, choking up the spit from past your throat to lube his cock further. You bring your hand up to assist you, twisting your hand back and forth- up and down while you stimulated his sensitive tip with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks to suck him back in and repeat.

He was becoming unkempt, his mouth ajar with little moans slipping past his lips, hair dangling in front of the sides of his face while his hips bucked back and forth into the depths of your cave.

"My God, so wet."

You moaned against Levi's cock, Eren speeding up and reaching your cervix, your juices slushing and pussy squeaking while he stretches you out. When his hips connected to your backside, you only want to shrivel up more from the pace he was hitting the hole of your tight cervix. Initially, it hurt, but almost instantly it began to feel pleasurable for both you and Eren, he was reaching great lengths inside of you. He's always wanted to fuck you; almost disappointed in himself that he didn't do this before.

"Taking me so well, I can barely fit," he grunts, "you like my cock y/n? Isn't this what you wanted with your bullshit teasing?" he smacks your ass, crying out, his hips jutting back and forth against you mercilessly, sending jolts into every bone of your body.

He slaps you again, your right ass cheeks burning and tingling from the strength of his slap, "fuckin' slut, better be quiet."

Levi pulls out of your throat, finally able to audible out the loud weeps and cries, he throws his hand over your mouth, "shut up before you get us caught."

"Fuck, Eren!" you wail, ignoring Levis commands, gasps and moans fly around the room, his cock filling you perfectly to the point where you felt like you were made to shape him.

"Open." his hand is forcing your jaw open, sticking your panties into your mouth to silence you. You cry into the fabric, the coil twirling up in your stomach, clenching your walls while he drills into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

Levi fists his cock for the time being while Eren is chasing his orgasm, knocking into you- inching you towards your orgasm. The back of your head tingling, your pussy twitching, and your stomach tightening, the room spiraling around you while you drop your head into the mattress, eyes screwed shut; Eren tearing an earth-shattering orgasm out of your body.

You see stars and a bright white consumes you, hands reaching to grasp anything, finding Levi's bicep and digging your nails into his skin for support while Eren's cock bathes in your cum, his hands pressing into the small of your back, "'boutta cum, right in this pretty little pussy." He spits, pinning your back to a better arch, you cry into the sheets when Erens thrusts loosen a little, sporadic and stabbing thrusts until he's panting and dumping a large load of his seed into your cunt, letting out moans and swears of approval. Your body convulsing, wanting to collapse.

Erin's lightheaded, dizzy and sweating, little bangs and baby hairs sticking to his soaked face, watching your cum drip down your thighs, the wetness from your pussy which had soaked his stomach, it was a fucking mess.

Everywhere.

He pulls out of you, your cream coating his cock; snatching a shirt and wiping himself clean, hiking up his boxers, "you're not done. On your back, now."

Without warning nor regard, you're pushed forward into Levi's hands by Eren to get you moving quicker; you slide onto your back, Levi takes charge and steps off the bed, hauling you by the thighs until you're at the edge of the bed, Levi pressing his hands under your thighs, holding them up and letting his cock slap against your cum-filled cunt, biting onto his bottom lip, teasing his cock into you.

He leans down, taking out the pair of underwear from your mouth, "keep quiet, understood?"

Quickly nodding and bracing yourself, happy to feel warm again.

"Did Eren fill you good?" he asks calmly, you nod.

"Yes- Levi."

Levi halts mid-thrust, peeved look on his face, "yes what, y/n?" you swallow hard, throat dry from the cloth.

"Y-yes Captain, he did." You mewl, he nods once before finishing his thrust.

"This pussy is so tight, even after he stretched you out like this?" he huffs, head dipped down- eyes filed to your pussy sucking in his cock so well; hair flopping back and forth, "I told you I was gonna do something about that mouth of yours, didn't I?"

"Y-you did, sir." You wail.

Levi didn't hold back, each of his sharp thrusts made you more tender inside, little cries fall from your swollen lips while Eren sits beside your head, big arm reaching over your face and kneading your boob, he watches them bounce slightly as Levi ruts into you. Rolling your hard erected nipple in between his fingers, "look at that face, are you gonna cum again?" you look up at Eren, who wears a smug look on his face, "are you gonna cum on Captain's cock, y/n?" you whine, trying to remain quieter under your Captain's directions.

"Gonna-" Eren's hand moves once more- over towards your clit.

This was the first time tonight you had felt this overstimulation, hissing in air and biting onto the skin of your lip, hand grasping Eren's wrist as he swirls little- yet strong circles into your clit, your mouth slacks open, “please! Feels so-" another burst of spasms erupting, thighs shaking and clenching around Levi's waist, "f-fuck me- Fuck me harder Captain, please!" You cry, walls convulsing, cum seeping out of you, down your ass and the base of his cock while he fucks you silly, Eren bringing you that much closer to a euphoric feeling again as he rubs your spasming clit.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?" Levi pants, cockhead rubbing against your sensitive and exhausted g-spot.

"Who can fuck you better?" Unable to audible, Eren moves faster around your num.

"Don't disobey our Captain, pretty girl- use your words." Screwing your eyes shut, the two men await your answer.

"I-I don't know- Ah!" Your back arches, core tightening for the second time tonight- body shaking as the following orgasm sends you over the moon, Eren's hand smacked over your mouth, you wail into his hand, Levi pins your legs open, leaning down to fuck into you harder, thrashing into your guts, pussy gushing around him until he is groaning and throwing his head back while he slams into you, his stomach nearly slapping against Eren's fingers, his dick twitching. His cheeks rosy and his muscles flexed.

"Fuck, so good- so tight- keep squeezing-" he breathes.

You're dazed from the rocking of his hips, he slows, catching his breath while he releases, coating your bruised walls with his cum. Your body left empty and quivering as Levi is slipping out of your cunt, Eren handing him the same shirt he used to wipe himself off with; your captain retrieving it and cleaning the amount of cum that was left on his softening dick, moving to you and carefully wiping the inside of your thighs and beaten cunt.

Catching your breath, Levi is picking his boxers up from the floor and pulling them up along with his pants, “don’t stay there forever, my sheets need to be switched.” He states, Eren reaches for your hand and helps you sit up, putting his shirt over your head and you slip through the arms, feet meeting the cold wooden floor, you attempt to stand, your knees buckling, Eren grabs you by the tricep before you land on the floor and sits you back on the bed.

“I think it would look suspicious if I carried you out of here, can you walk?”

You nod, “yeah.”

Standing again, you're able to succeed, reaching for your underwear, Eren already had it swinging around his index finger, “I’ll hold onto these.”

With no willpower to object, you just pull up your shorts and pick up your shoes.

“Walk her back, Jaeger, don't do anything stupid.”

You and Eren both leave your Captain’s office quietly, the hall empty and empty, you and he slowly walk back, you laughed at the thought about how it would be a tough one to explain why Eren was shirtless and you were- quite obviously- wearing his shirt while he holds your stained shirt in his hand.

With great luck, you and he make it without running into anyone, reaching your door, you and him enter and you shut the door behind him.

“Here’s your shirt.”

He watches you as you throw off his shirt, tossing it to him and opening a drawer, and grabbing one of your own.

Before you realize it.

“Uhm, Eren, I forgot my bra.” Glancing down at your bare chest, Eren shrugs it off and laughs.

“Captain wanted to keep something too, princess.”

#levi smut #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi and eren #levi x reader #eren jeager smut #eren x reader #eren x reader x levi #eren aot #attack on titan smut #smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #lemon #attack on titan

2K notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Note

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

565 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?�� Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.”

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner songfic #traitor olivia rodrigo #aaron hotchner angst #angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #you will not find a happy ending here #oops

848 notes · View notes

leascorner · 3 years

Text

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

#jbb #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x single mom!reader #lea's writing #bucky barnes x you

634 notes · View notes

agapaic · 3 years

Text

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

287 notes · View notes

n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

lazy days - maki zenin x reader

request: “Could you maybe do a maki x reader fluff? Like maybe just a lazy day playing video games or something like that.” - @mvddison99

summary: after you shut off her alarm clock so she can get some rest, maki reluctantly agrees to a lazy day with you, and ends up enjoying it much more than expected. (genre: domestic-ish fluff, slice of life)

warnings: some swearing but it’s mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i did NOT plan to make it this long lol i’m just a sucker for writing maki! i didn’t really explicitly state what the reader and maki’s relationship is so it can be read as an established relationship or not depending on what you like! i had a ton of fun writing this so hopefully y’all like it! :)

maki zenin doesn’t do ‘lazy days’. not willingly, at least.

when you’d told inumaki of your plan to shut off her alarm clock to get her to sleep in and take a day off, he couldn’t help thinking you must have some kind of death wish to do that. you’d argue that you were staging an intervention in the name of self care. he knew the reason you’d gone to him with your idea was because he couldn’t talk any sense into you.

he also knew that you actually just wanted maki to take a day off so you’d have an excuse to hang out with her in your pajamas all day.

despite the countless times gojo would use a day off as an incentive during your missions, when you finished you’d always be greeted by the same sheepish smile and excuse as to why your day off would be pushed back. for a grown man, he sure was childish when it came to planning stuff. in contrast to the groans of disappointment that came in response from you, inumaki and panda, maki never seemed phased by the extra days you’d spend sparring in the blistering sun. while gojo moved his hands wildly as he apologized, she’d simply shrug and swing her weapon of choice over her shoulder with a bored expression on her face. gojo always seemed relieved when she’d interrupt his plea for forgiveness to a group of teenagers to ask him when the next mission was.

over the past two weeks or so, you’d begun to notice the semblance of exhaustion around maki, one you weren’t even sure she was aware of. her glasses emphasized the purple tinted bags lining her eyes, and her nose was dusted with a sunburn that was oddly reminiscent of that momo girl from kyoto. they were subtle changes in the way she carried herself as well, in the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly when she rested the wooden ends of her weapons on them. it was such a slight difference that it seemed only you could know so quickly.

so it’s not hard to imagine the joy that flashed across your face when you realized your plan in unplugging her school issued alarm clock had been successful. before then, you’d only woken up before maki once, due to an early morning mission with inumaki. that day, when surprise flashed across your face at the sight of maki awake at just 6 a.m on a saturday, now seemed a contrast to your current state. the clock read 10 a.m as you were interrupted from mulling over your breakfast with inumaki and paves with the sound of steps shuffling against the floor, followed not soon after by maki, clad in baggy plaid pants and a loose fitting tee shirt. you watched as she stretched her arms above her head, making her shirt ride up slightly from the waistband of her pants. a part of you felt as if you’d gotten lucky to see her in that moment, with her green hair cascading past her shoulders, and her yet to be brushed bangs messy as they slightly masqueraded her eyes like a sheepdog overdue for a trim. as she rubbed her eyes into focus, her gaze landed on you, clearly trying to stifle a smile for whatever reason.

“what’re you so happy about?” her voice was raspy as she straightened her posture.

oh, you were definitely lucky to see her like this.

“sleep well?” you raised an eyebrow with a teasing tone. she could practically hear the smug grin threatening to stretch across your face. had it not already been obvious who the culprit was, that would’ve been a dead giveaway of the way her stolen batteries from her alarm clock were collecting dust on your bedside table. she sent a lazy glare your way, but there was clearly no malice behind it.

“if i say i did, will you leave me alone?” her tone was almost playful as she stepped towards you, bending her knees to be at eye level with you while you sat. she probably didn’t notice that she wasn’t nearly as intimidating with her old pajamas and messy hair.

“no can do.” you no longer held shame in the catlike grin on your face. “gojo is finally letting us have that day off he always promises, and i’m not letting you use some excuse about being ‘too busy with training.’” those last few words were spoken with a monotone infliction in a weak attempt to poke fun at her almost robotic training schedule.

a roll of her eyes, but she made no point to move from her position. when she crouched down to your sitting form, her eyes remained focused on you despite the sleepiness still swimming in them. your noses were mere inches apart.

“and if i do?”

“i already told gojo to lock up the weapons, plus everyone else is occupied with relaxation.” you feigned sheepishness.

“oh noooo, i’m sure it’d be impossible to make it past his advanced security system.” her voice oozed of sarcasm and her head tilted slightly, a smirk daring to sneak past her lips.

the staring match you were unaware you’d been putting so much effort into was interrupted by a groan from inumaki. he made a face of disgust in your direction as you both turned to face him. if he could, you were sure he’d mutter something annoyedly about you two needing to get a room. your face contorted to send some sort of distorted glare his way as he got up to leave the room.

maki cleared her throat awkwardly, now acutely aware of the distance (or lack thereof) between your faces, courtesy of inumaki.

“by the way, if you don’t take a break, gojo says he’ll just make you take one during our next mission!” the grin on your face stretched almost cartoonishly at the dejected look in response to your declaration.

she was standing now. “i’ll do it, but only because you’ve already set my day back by a few hours, and so i don’t miss anything important later.” though you didn’t miss the corners of her mouth turning up as she averted her gaze.

to her surprise, you let out a soft sigh of relief in response. “thank god, my last resort would have been to make you go to training with the kyoto students instead.” she cringed wordlessly in response as she pulled a cup of yogurt from the fridge.

“what do you want to do so bad that’s got you so pushy anyways?” she sat with her legs spread apart as she ate her breakfast.

a mischievous gleam danced across your face. “well i was cleaning out my dorm the other day, and i may or may not have found my copy of mario kart.” your voice was triumphant, as if you’d just found the cure to a disease.

she looked thoroughly unimpressed in contrast to you holding down heaps of excitement. “never played it.”

your gasp of shock felt as if it could have woken up the whole school.

“maki…” your voice sounded accusatory, like a parent saying that they’re not mad, ‘just disappointed.’

“well it’s not like the zenin clan is exactly known for their expertise on video games, are they now?” she spoke matter-of-factly.

“and they’re clearly not known for having fun either, now you’d better eat up so i can beat your ass.” your competitive tone seemed to awaken a rivalry within maki, whose eyes suddenly became sharper with determination. you stifled a chuckle at the drive that came from your simple teasing.

“i wouldn’t get so confident just yet, no offense but i don’t think you’d be that hard to beat.” she teased, matching the mischievousness in your eyes, as she finished her cup of yogurt.

“oh it’s on maki!”

as you bounced down the hall to your dorm with maki in tow following breakfast, you took note of panda walking by, who seemed to do a double take of maki. she met his gaze, once again trying to look threatening despite her cozy attire. panda seemed unaffected by her glare, simply sending you a sneaky thumbs up, not going unnoticed by her.

“did everyone know about your little plan?”

“not everyone, per say. if i told megumi he’d have been a total buzzkill and told you.”

“oh how tragic that would have been.” without looking over your shoulder, you could tell she was rolling her eyes, but she did a bad job at concealing the smile that was evident in her voice.

“i know, where would you be without me?” you wiped fake tears from your eyes dramatically as you swung open the door to your dorm.

“not playing mario kart, that’s for sure.” she shrugged, feigning exasperation as she slumped on your bed. it was oddly domestic, this side of maki. it was the side of her with her hair undone, with her usual stiff uniform swapped for baggy pajamas, with her back flat against your rock solid dorm bed as she stared at the ceiling, eyes glazed over. it crossed your mind that you’d like to see her like this more.

but in case you didn’t get that chance, you were determined to make this moment last.

after a few moments of annoyance at how slow your wii loaded, and annoyance from maki at your complaining about it, considering that thing was clearly on its last legs, you were met with the flashing of the mario kart title screen. maki sat up to be met with your face brightening into a smile, making it hard for her to stop the matching one on her face. she found it hard not to get excited from the enthusiasm you had about this game, it gave her a sense of comfort that made her feel like she’d never have to worry about battling a curse again.

you handed her a controller, your fingertips brushing against her hand as you did so. her eyes flickered to yours with an impish delight to them.

“you’re going down.”

“oh?” you raised an eyebrow as you turned to click through character selections, shamelessly feeding into her competitive streak. after scrolling through the characters just long enough to annoy maki, you decided you’d play yoshi. she let out an over exaggerated sigh of relief when you’d finally decided, before turning her attention to do the exact same thing.

“rosalina, huh?”

maki glanced at you, before averting her eyes back to the screen. “what can i say? she’s hot.”

you put a hand to your heart dramatically. “oh maki, how you wound me. sorry i can't be her.” your little act was eerily similar to how the first years would act whenever there was even the possibility of megumi interacting with a girl.

“you’ve been spending too much time around gojo.” she scoffed at your antics while you waited for the crappy old wii to load the selection screen for tracks.

should i choose rainbow road just to fuck with her?

spoiler alert: you absolutely did choose rainbow road just to fuck with her.

you knew she’d never played before, so even if you did win, it’s mostly because you chose the most difficult track. but the competitive side of you didn’t seem to care. before starting the game, you moved so you sat next to maki on the bed, parallel to the tv screen. you guys sat shoulder to shoulder, yet maki still seemed totally relaxed.

“you’re going down.” she smirked, turning to face you, the second time that day her face was just inches from yours.

“i’d like to see you try and beat me, newbie.” you tilted your head towards her, a smug look painting your face as you leaned over to place your hands over hers, instructing her of the basics as you guided them over the buttons and joysticks of the controller. after all, it would be just cruel to make her go in completely clueless.

“thanks.” her eyes remained focused on her hands a few seconds after you’d removed yours from atop them, before her gaze travelled to meet yours. there was an uncharacteristically soft look on her face for just a moment, before she looked back to the screen. “but you’re gonna regret this when you eat my dust.”

“whatever you say, maki.” you muttered as the screen began to flash a countdown.

3…

2…

1…

START!!!

forget all that soft shit, you were gonna beat her ass.

your dorm room was filled with the sounds of the wii controller buttons being mashed, along with the background music of the game.

“SHIT!” you didn’t have to glance at her screen to know she’d swerved off the road and fallen, so you just smiled triumphantly in response.

when she was on the road again, you could feel her lean against your shoulder slightly as she turned. in your peripheral, you noticed how a few strands of green hair brushed against your shoulder as if it were yours. maki, on the other hand, seemed completely focused on winning the game, making her ignorant to how she practically leaned into you.

you were confident enough to know that you pretty much had this game in the bag as you kept your lead peacefully for quite a bit, that was until a certain smug looking girl next to you managed to score a blue shell.

“DAMN IT.” you watched as yoshi spun helplessly after being hit. “look at how sad he looks, you monster.” you glared ludicrously at her, to which she just snickered, but your feigned anger was quickly interrupted by the sound of the music speeding up.

FINAL LAP.

“already?” you were exasperated to see how close maki had gotten to you. looking to her, she remained with a determined look on her face, funnily enough, it was similar to the one she’d have while sparring.

you didn’t want to have to play dirty but…

ah, who were you kidding, you totally wanted to play dirty!

“hey, maki.” your voice was husky from strain of your cries of distress when you fell behind. you leaned into maki the same way she had earlier, with your leg practically on top of hers, and your head leaning oh so casually on her shoulder. she seemed to stiffen for a moment.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

jackpot.

swerving with your controller, you’d managed to knock her rosalina straight off the track, giving you a clear path to the finish line. you knew that making her all flustered just to get ahead had to be some kind of cheating, but you couldn’t deny it was so worth it to see the way her face flushed from a mix of embarrassment and anger at losing.

when you reached the finish line, it was hard to contain the laughter that came bubbling up out of you. before you could help it, the repressed giggles turned into a full on belly laugh as you leaned onto her shoulder for support.

“you should’ve seen your face maki!” you managed to get out between laughs. she simply pushed you off of her, though it was clearly as soft as possible. she held onto your shoulder so you were forced to be at eye level with her.

she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you lifted your head to make eye contact, your mouth in a tight line as you tried to hold back more laughs.

“you’re pretty good for a newbie though, you know.” you leaned into her touch, too focused on her to tease her over the animation of yoshi with his gold trophy playing on the screen.

“yeah and you’re pretty good for a cheater.” she scoffed, but it only elicited more laughter from you, gripping on the hands she had on your shoulder for support.

she wanted to keep up her front of mock seriousness, but the way you melted into her in this moment left her no room for her mock anger.

it was rare that you saw maki zenin laugh, but in this moment, it just felt so natural to you. it seemed to rise up out of her, like a soda can being shaken up before opening, it came out unrestrained as her shoulders shook ever so slightly.

you’d have to make a note to get maki to laugh more often.

“so…” you finally composed yourself, leaning your head on her shoulder, she looked at you without an ounce of the surprise she held earlier, as if you guys did this all the time. “do you wanna play again?”

she grinned wolfishly. “hell yeah.”

#maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #zenin maki x reader #zenin maki #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines

190 notes · View notes

youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit.

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience.

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it.

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others.

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism.

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve.

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place.

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire.

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

#yandere #yandere oneshot #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you

242 notes · View notes

soccerximagines · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Jesse Lingard imagine? One where you're his daughters babysitter and every time he's off to training, you're at his place, babysitting Hope. He's had feelings for you since you started working with them a few months ago and Hope practically is crazy in love with you. One day Jesse makes it home early, catching you baking with his little princess while singing to Frozen songs and debating about which ice cream flavour is best. Your shift doesn't finish till another hour so you're still around, this time Jesse joining in on the rest of your activities and he watches while you put Hope out for her nap, adoring you more. You have small talk as you make your way to leave but before you do, he asks you out.

Ooo I'm excited for this one, thank you!

Babysitting

Whenever someone found out about your job, which was babysitting Jesse Lingards' daughter, they were incredibly jealous. "I bet you love your job," they would say, "being able to work for one of the sexiest footballers out there!"

However, the truth was that you barely saw Jesse apart from at the beginning and end of your shifts. The rest of the time you were on your own with Hope.

Nevertheless, they were right, you did love your job. Hope was an amazing kid, both funny, sweet and fairly easy to care for. On top of that it paid way more than any of your previous babysitting gigs.

Today had started of as any other day; you going over to Jesse's house to watch Hope. Jesse greeted you as you arrived, the two of you having a quick chat before he had to leave. However, what differed from other days was the small "good luck" he had thrown your way before getting in his car.

It turned out that the normally cheerful Hope was in quite the mood; grumpily not going along with any of the things you suggested that you could do.

"Do you want to go play outside in the rain?"

"No!" She huffed, crossing her arms sassily.

"Do you want to draw something?"

"No!"

Eventually you suggested that you could bake some brownies for when her dad returned from practice. Luckily she agreed to that, her previous mood completely replaced with a cheery one.

Immediately afterwards the two of you got to work as you put on her absolute favorite soundtrack in the entire world; the one from Frozen.

The music was still playing when Jesse returned from his practice early, making his return unnoticed by the two of you.

Instead of greeting you immediately he stood in the doorway into the kitchen, watching you do the dishes while the brownies were in the oven. You and Hope were also talking about the cake you were going to eat.

"Ice cream too?" Hope asked, giving you pleading eyes.

"Are you kidding? Ice cream to brownies is mandatory!" You giggled, poking her nose playfully.

Hope wanted chocolate flavor, but you tried to tell her that vanilla was a better choice. "Since the brownies are made of chocolate it might be a bit too much chocolate then," you tried to reason, "plus vanilla is much better anyways!"

"Chocolate is best. Silly Y/N," Hope scoffed - making you laugh.

Eventually Jesse decided to make his presence known, walking into the kitchen and greeting you.

"Daddy!" Hope squealed and ran over to hug him.

"Hi princess!" He lifted her up and held her in his arms.

"You're home early!" You commented, giving him a polite smile.

"Yeah, we finished a bit earlier as a reward for our recent win," he shrugged.

You didn't quite know what to do next. Your shift didn't end for another hour or so, and the brownies weren't even finished yet, but now that Jesse was home you didn't want to overstay your welcome.

"I should probably get going then," you awkwardly said - not quite sure if you were telling him about leaving, or asking if you should.

"No," Hope protested as she heard you, "Y/N, stay!"

Jesse agreed with his daughter. "You should stay, at least until the brownies are done. Can't have you making them and not even getting a taste."

"That would be tragic," you stated with a laugh, giving in and deciding to stay a little longer.

If Jesse was honest with himself he was happy that he got to spend a little time with you too. From the start he had been attracted to you, but when he saw how great you were with Hope; and he got to know you better through small talk, the attraction had evolved into something more. He had even contemplated asking you out for a while now, but the fear of rejection held him back. Maybe you would find it weird seeing how he technically was your boss.

Before any of you could say another word your timer went off; indicating that the brownies were done. Hope clapped her hands together in glee, knowing what the sound meant. "Brownies!"

The three of you ate the brownies together in harmony. Jesse had gotten both chocolate and vanilla flavored ice cream out of the freezer, trying to make both his girls happy. Well, although you technically weren't his girl, he definitely wanted you to be.

You laughed and joked around with each other, all whilst listening to the Frozen soundtrack - that Hope refused to let you turn off.

After the brownies had been eaten it was time for Hope's afternoon nap. Jesse got up to take her, but you beat him to it. "I'll do it," you smiled and carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Jesse trailed after you and watched as you laid her down and sung her favorite bedtime song, staying with her until she fell asleep.

You blushed as you felt his gaze on you, but kept your own gaze on Hope. Although you never dared to admit it to anyone you had developed a small crush on the footballer. You never said anything though, afraid he would find it weird since you worked for him.

Eventually you got up and faced him with a smile. "Well, I guess that it my cue to leave for today." He nodded, "I'll walk you to the door."

You grabbed your coat and said your goodbyes; but the minute you stepped outside you heard him speak up again.

"Would you," he cleared his voice before continuing, "would you like to go out for dinner sometime? Just the two of us, no Hope."

You smiled and internally cheered, happy he felt the same way that you did.

"Yeah, sounds like a date."

#jesse lingard #Jesse #Lingard #fanfiction #soccer #fanfic #football #england national football team #jesse lingard imagines #jesse lingard one shots #jesse lingard fanfiction #football imagines #football fluff #foootball one shots #request #manchester united #soccer imagines

152 notes · View notes

bffhreprise · 3 years

Text

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, 382

“Slow down!” exclaimed Iris. “Turn left just up ahead.”

I nodded and complied. She knew where her boss lived better than any of us, having never visited this suburb befored. I probably would have missed the break in the endless fence had she not warned me, especially when I was trying to guess the cost of having a large amount of land next to a park in a pricey suburb. To my surprise, the gate opened for us immediately.

“He doesn’t care much for security, does he?” I teased, looking around to see if there was some sort of guard who would have opened the gate for us.

“Mila watches everything, so there’s no need. There are sensors and cameras all over the yard that let her know if anything is disturbed.” explained Iris matter-of-factly.

I nodded, but my eyes were locked on our destination in the distance, barely visible through all of the rain. I had considerably underestimated the size of this place. I very much doubted that I could even afford to maintain the yard for very many years and could only guess that the property tax had to be immense.

As my sons grew excited about the bushes, I looked over and stared for several seconds. Every single bush along the long driveway had been carefully sculpted into characters that I recognized from video games my kids enjoyed. I could only imagine the amount of time and number of people involved in such artwork, leading me to believe James spent even more on his yard annually than I originally had guessed. Even the fountain—an immense, two-story affair that was very elaborately sculpted—was immaculate, showing no signs of wear or neglect. James certainly knew how to make an impression.

When we stepped inside, passing past two sets of double doors that opened for us, James was descending down one of the staircases which curved up to a balcony on the second floor. “James! Thank you for having us. This is quite a place you’ve got here. Sorry if we brought the storm.” I told him, gesturing to the weather outside.

“There’s plenty to see.” he politely agreed. “Thank you for accepting the invitation. I thought you might be interested in seeing a little more about my company than most, since you seemed curious during the game. Mick was supposed to stop by a while ago but apparently didn’t get the time.”

“This place is awesome!” exclaimed Matt.

“Sorry, James.” muttered Mick.

“No need to apologize. We’ll just review with your family today what I wanted to tell you before.” replied James, smiling at us.

I suddenly found myself floating as a soft breeze blew at me from inside the mansion. Looking to my sides, I saw that my family, save for my daughter, were also floating.

Before I could do more than exclaim in surprise, James spoke up, telling us, “Magic is real, and your family can use it.”

I stared at them, my mind trying to figure out how he was doing this. Was this some elaborate prank using a new technology? “Wh-What…” was all I managed to say before we were gently lowered to the ground.

“You wanted to know what I was feeding my employees. I train them physically, mentally, and in magical arts. We didn’t use spells at the baseball game, but we have numerous advantages that are completely unfair.” explained James. “For example, I can physically lift your family’s van, though using spells is easier to ensure I don’t compromise the frame.”

I swore, feeling like I had been had, before my better judgement kicked in. My family was currently at this boy’s mercy.

James’ smile broadened as he said, “If you don’t mind coming out back, I’ll ask the wonderful gardener to demonstrate something people tend to grasp more easily.” Not hearing any argument from us, he motioned for us to follow him and started telling us “Mirabella and Mike can’t create the electrical discharges like the rest of you. She has a different heritage, and Mike took after his mother.”

“How could you possibly know that?” asked Mike in surprise.

“My secretary ran a background check on Iris prior to her being hired, and she’s so thorough that I feel like she knows everything. You wouldn’t believe how long she takes to brief me on things.” explained James as he glanced back at my son. “My concern with Mick is that he and Iris tended to play games with their ability, which caught enough notice for my secretary to file it in the report. There are some out there who prey on those with abilities such as yours, so being a little more cautious tends to be wise.”

That sounded far too believable. I probably should have chewed those two out more often, but I had never believed anyone would have noticed their antics. “You claim you can lift cars, and you can obviously lift us. What else can you do, James?” I asked, wanting a firmer handle on whom I was dealing with.

“So many things, Dad. James is like a wizard combined with an overly strong fighter from some fantasy novel.” insisted Iris from behind me.

I glanced back at her, surprised at how serious she looked.

“I’ve also learned to make a great cup of tea. My wife can be picky.” insisted James.

“What’s that smell..?” questioned Mike longingly.

Now that he mentioned it, I didn’t recognize the smell either, though I was certain it was food. My mouth was already watering.

“We’re almost to the kitchen, and Marco’s making you quite the treat. I’m sure he won’t mind us passing through. Just be prepared for a few samples.” encouraged James.

The kitchen was as large as was fitting a house this size, and even there the fanciful engravings didn’t yield. Every cabinet was beautifully carved, as were the very large table and chairs.

Marco, the chef, was extraordinarily eager for us to sample “a few things” before we moved onward, despite assuring us that dinner would be ready soon. Only when James pointed out there was more for us to see before dinner did Marco give way, giving us permission to pass through his kitchen into the garden beyond.

The rain didn’t reach us as we followed James outside, hitting some invisible barrier and sliding away.

“I don’t suppose you worry about getting struck by lightning.” I commented as I watched the sky.

“Worried, no, but I didn’t find that to be pleasant either.” he told me sincerely.

I stared at him, my eyes searching for any sign that he had ever been struck, but I found nothing, save for how confident he seemed.

“If your magic were stronger, you’d actually be able to guide a lightning bolt around you. Iris has practiced enough that she could knock an assailant down with just the shock.” he commented, making me glance back at my daughter.

“You can?” questioned Mick excitedly.

She nodded, grinned, and said, “Yep, though I could take you in a fight without one.”

“All trained up now, are you?” questioned Mark, my eldest son.

Iris laughed, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t believe the standards here.”

“I take it that James is the strongest, being the boss.” suggested Mike.

James shook his head and said, “Not even close.” Then he pointed to a fortress in the distance and asked “Do you see the keep over there?”

I nodded along with a couple of my sons.

“The strongest best friend created that with a stray thought.” claimed James.

“What!? No way!” exclaimed Mike.

Nodding, James said, “She showed up in my office to tell me that she ‘oopsed’ a second after. She’s been training recently to avoid that type of mistake. I imagine she’ll be capable of creating a large city in a day on a whim within a few years. I’d probably spend at least a week on a small town, and that’s if I collected the resources ahead of time.”

I found the idea mind-boggling. James seemed humble as he claimed that he could create a small town in a week.

“You’d take at least a month, man-sla-... er… boss?” announced Emma, turning the statement into a question at the end. “You get too distracted. I could handle a village in an hour!” She was soaked, but grinning.

Before my eyes, the water soaking her clothes drifted away to join the rain outside.

“Emma, I’m sure you remember Iris’ father, Grayson. This is her mother, Mirabella. From oldest to youngest, her brothers are Mark, Mick, Mike, and Matt. Everyone, this is my gardener, Emma.”

“Shouldn’t I be your favorite gardener?” she asked teasingly.

“Sure.” he conceded.

“Hear that? I’m his favorite!” she exclaimed proudly.

“Do you create villages with a stray thought?” questioned Mike.

“Nah. I do this.” she replied, watching us all. After a couple seconds, wooden buildings rose out of the ground between the garden and the keep.

“Mine would have functional electricity, plumbing, and the other luxuries people expect these days.” argued James with a smile.

She stuck her tongue out at him. Then she said, “My plumbing would work if I created a water tower. Plants can be very good at guiding water. As for electricity, I’ve been talking with Jarod about ways to generate a current with plants. We have plans and stuff!”

“You mean he had a crazy idea and chatted your ear off.” suggested James.

“I thought the idea was cool and agreed to try eventually!” she insisted.

“The idea was actually Maxine’s. She has some experience with bioengineering from when she considered creating a cyborg army.” corrected Mila, who had discretely joined us without me noticing.

“You can create cyborgs!?’ questioned Matt excitedly.

“There has been some tech created here which could be used toward that end, but we’re not experimenting on people.” explained James.

“I didn’t know you were in the tech industry.” commented my wife.

James smiled at her and diplomatically told her “My company dabbles in many things to help prepare our best friends for a very large variety of jobs.”

Grinning, Emma said, “He means to say ‘Yes. Yes, we are.’ Mua ha ha ha ha!” She drummed her fingers together while obviously attempting to look like some comic book villain.

James sighed and said, “Emma, mind getting rid of your starter village and showing the Storms how you help the kitchen?”

“Fiiiine,” she begrudgingly told him, “but I might use some buildings to compliment the topiary when I change things up again.”

“Sounds fun.” he agreed.

From there, she started demonstrating how she could make the plants grow, revert to seeds, or provide as much food as she wanted. She could also force plants to grow beyond their normal proportions and control them as easily as she controlled her own limbs, which led her into demonstrating how she had produced the bats her team had used for our baseball game. Before she seemed remotely ready to quit demonstrating her abilities, Mila announced that food was ready.

Instead of eating at the long table in the kitchen, we were taken to a large dining hall with an even more elaborate table. There were already carts of food waiting nearby, and Mila urged us to help ourselves, since no one here would hesitate when they arrived.

As we ate, we were entertained with more demonstrations of magic from those who had joined us. James’ wife, Alma, created elaborate displays of fire and ice. Ai and Mai created a sort of play with tiny figures made of water acting out their parts just above the table. Jemal fetched more food for the particularly hungry using nothing but his magic, causing whatever was requested to float through the air. James himself demonstrated illusions, making us see whatever he wanted while assuring us the magic the others had used was real. Whether because I had felt myself being lifted earlier or because he had no reason to lie, I believed him. Iris’ boss was the most interesting, and perhaps the most dangerous, man I had ever met.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

356 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 3 years

Text

Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #dad harry #boxer harry #cute #smut #daddy harry styles #sweet as honey talk

390 notes · View notes