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say-al0e · 1 year

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Home Run

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)

Word Count: 9k (......sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

“What are you doing Saturday?”

Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.

Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”

“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”

With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.

“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”

Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”

The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.

A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.

“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”

Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head.

Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.

Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.

“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”

Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”

The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”

“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”

A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”

The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully.

“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”

“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.

“So am I, Angel.”

Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.

The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.

Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.

Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.

And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.

Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.

Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.

Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.

“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”

While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover.

But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.

If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.

Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”

“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”

The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”

“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”

Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.

Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.

Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.

As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.

While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.

No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.

When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.

Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.

The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.

With Bradley, there were never any expectations.

Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.

There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.

Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”

A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”

A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.

The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.

Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.

“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged.

Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.

The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.

That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”

Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”

There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”

“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.

“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”

“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”

Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”

Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.

This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.

The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.

Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.

Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.

Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top.

While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.

Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.

“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”

With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.

The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.

When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.

Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”

“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.

As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”

“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”

“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”

“Straight up the middle.”

Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.

Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.”

It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.

Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”

“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”

“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”

“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”

Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.

Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.

It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.

“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”

The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”

Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.

“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”

When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”

Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.

“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”

“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.

“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”

There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.

The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.

When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”

If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”

“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”

Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”

“Yeah, she is.”

Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind.

It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.

There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.

Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.

“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”

The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.

Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter.

There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.

“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”

“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”

“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”

Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”

With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.

Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.

Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.

Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.

And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.

However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.

As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that.

Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.

In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.

Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.

After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away.

“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”

“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco.

The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.

“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”

A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.

“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”

Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.

“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”

Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.

“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.

Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

“Why now?”

It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.

“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”

With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.

Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.

A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.

Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”

Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.

There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’

A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.

And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.

As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.

The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant. He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @callsignharper, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @rh3tt, @dakotakazansky

#bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun one shot #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #v's fics

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formosusiniquis · 3 months

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my @steddiesummerexchange gift fic for @oh-stars! I was so excited to work on this prompt: penpals through childhood until they both graduate -- road trip to meet one another in person. Epistolary fics are always a favorite of mine. oh-stars is such a brilliant writer and bright spot in the fandom, I was excited to be able to write a little something for her, I hope you like it!

October 13, 1976 Dear Eddie,

Mrs. Simpson says I’m supposed to thank you for volunteering to be my partner even though you’re a fifth grader. I don’t know why I should though since now I actually have to do this stupid pen pal project. I know she only paired me with an older kid cause she thinks I’m dumb. But thanks for the extra work I guess.

She said she wasn’t gonna read these before she sent them off, just that she was gonna make sure they were a page front and back like they were supposed to be. But I don’t really believe her. So I guess I should actually write this right.

Hi Eddie. My name is Steve Harrington. I’m 10 years old because I got put in Kindergarten late cause my parents were too busy in wherever my dad does his business stuff and my au pair -- that’s fancy for babysitter who lives in your house -- couldn’t do it. My birthday is in September, almost at the end (the 27th), so I guess that’s why it was okay. When’s your birthday (Mrs. Simpson says a friendly letter is supposed to ask questions.)

My favorite things are yellow and sports. I’m the best at red rover and kickball, Tommy says it's cause I’m the oldest and biggest in our class but he’s a sore loser and couldn’t even break through the girl side of the red rover line. Do you play games? Mrs. Simpson talks about your Hawkins like it’s on a different planet but you’re just in Kentucky. It’s right across the river. I’ve been there a couple times when Dad likes me and we’ll go watch Louisville play basketball. Basketball is my favorite sport but the only outside court is at the park and the big teenagers are always on it.

When you write back you can tell me what sports and games you like. Does your Dad ever bring you to Indiana to watch stuff? The Pacers only played okay last season and they lost to Kentucky in the playoffs. Is that who you root for?

Oh and I’m supposed to ask you about school since this is like homework. I kinda already did that at the beginning, remember. Do you like English or something? Is that why you asked for extra work? Or was your pen pal last year just a super dud?

That’s front and back now.

Sincerely (cause we aren’t friends), Steve Harrington

October 25, 1976 Dear Steve,

First of all I didn’t ask to have to write a letter to some fourth grader. I was told because I’m the only kid who didn’t do it last year that I had to be your partner. I do like English but extra work isn’t fun for anybody. I’ve never had a pen pal before so you’re the best and the worst one I’ve ever had. Are teachers allowed to call people dumb at your school? Mine just look at me like a really weird bug on the road or something.

Your teacher sounds like a real pain in the side, that’s what my Uncle Wayne would say. I think it’s cause he’s pretending he doesn’t know the word bitch. She talks about this Hawkins like it’s on another planet because it’s in the Appalachian Mountains and people think everyone here is stupid and marries their cousins.

Some of them are stupid but they would be like that anywhere it’s not because they live out here.

I’m actually from Lexington though so it isn’t even my Hawkins, but my Uncle Wayne lives here and he has to watch me for a little while.

You didn’t really ask me anything good about myself. I’m Eddie Munson, I’m going to be 11 when it’s my birthday this year (Halloween the coolest birthday cause everyone gives you candy). Red and black are my favorite colors. I don’t like any sports at all, they’re all stupid but everyone knows about basketball here, it's more important than church. Everywhere has games but when you get to fifth grade you learn which ones are for babies.

I like imagination games the best cause then I don’t have to worry about anyone else playing with me. There’s lots of woods here so I can go in them and hunt monsters or dragons or be an elf like in my favorite books.

Wayne’s looking over my shoulder and says I’m supposed to ask you a question. So what’s your favorite book? Do you like fantasy, that’s my favorite but the science fiction stuff with aliens is cool too.

I know you asked about my dad but since I live with Wayne I’m gonna use him instead. He hasn’t ever taken me to Indiana cause “his truck weren’t meant to leave these hills” whatever that means. He said he roots for The Colonels but he wishes your Pacers luck this season. What’s a Pacer anyway?

Do I have to ask you about school too? I don’t think this is homework for me more like extra credit. If you don’t like English what do you like? Don’t say recess or lunch those are cheating answers.

Not your friend either, Eddie Munson

Continue on AO3

#steddie #steddie summer exchange #steddie fic #my fic #friends to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #Appalachian Eddie Munson

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efingart · 1 month

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Just What I Needed - Chapter 26 (PG-13 version)

Chapter List

Word Count: 2385

Frank Woods x fem!Bell

Author's note: The smut in this chapter has been edited out. Just a heads up there still is some, I'd say PG-13, making out happening here. If you would like the full version you can find that here.

Frank wouldn’t have said he was expecting it, but when Mila’s lips touched his he kissed her back. No hesitation on his part. He placed his hand over hers, holding her to his chest. He gently squeezed her hand, encouraging her. But whatever she wanted to do next was up to her. Frank didn’t want to risk pressuring her. Even without the drugs she was still vulnerable. And though his feelings about her were more complicated, he still found Mila attractive. If this was what she wanted he wouldn’t push her away.

Mila ran her other hand up his chest to settle on his good shoulder. She pressed into it, he realized for balance, as she threw a leg over his, settling over his thighs. Frank placed a hand on her waist to support her as she leaned into him and she kissed him again .

Frank squeezed her hip and ran circles around her skin with his thumb. He did like the way she kissed him. He wouldn’t have called it a desperate kiss, but there was something behind it, a hunger, a wanting. Wanting him? He could indulge in that thought, but it was more than that. A desire for a deeper human connection. To feel good for once after so much bad.

Frank allowed his hands to run up her back, under her shirt - his shirt- his fingers just brushing the rivers of scars that spread across her skin. She hadn’t exactly hidden them from him last time they were together, but he only saw them the morning after, when her back was turned to him as she lay sleeping. At the time, he wondered how she had got them. But even she hadn’t known then.

What story she would have told him if he had asked?

Had Adler put something in her head to explain them away? Then again had Adler expected anything to happen between her and another member of the team? It didn’t seem like it.

Would she have been confused? Said something that might have set alarm bells off in his brain that would have saved her? He thought about it often enough. It didn’t make sense to blame himself for what happened, but he was right there and he didn’t even notice that she was in trouble.

Mila’s tongue pushed past his lips knocking the thoughts right out of his head. His hands were still under her shirt -his shirt- and he had to resist the urge to lift it off her entirely.

She was calling the shots remember?

Frank slid his hands down her body and over her thighs, then back up again to settle over her ass. Her skin was so soft, it felt good under his rough hands. Hard to believe after months of hell that her skin could still feel like this. No matter what he did his own remained calloused and dry.

Mila made a little sound as he gave her ass a squeeze and tangled his fingers in her underwear. He felt anticipation build in the pit of his stomach as he waited to see what she would do next. Maybe she just wanted to kiss. Make out with him- no someone.

Kissing like this was underrated. He could stand to be patient and take it slow.

But she pressed her hips into him. And she pulled out of the kiss, leaning back and pinching the bottom of her shirt - his shirt- and in an instant it was off. It landed somewhere on the floor, he didn’t see where. Didn’t care.

Frank awoke with the strong feeling that something was off. His hazy brain still wrestling with the idea that he had even fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was wrapping his arms around Mila and then-

How long had he been asleep?

And then the cold realization settled in that Mila wasn’t there. He felt her absence before he turned to look. She had pulled the sheet back up, if it wasn’t for the floral scent of her shampoo lingering on the pillow it would have been like she had never been there.

Frank told himself that maybe she just went to the bathroom or to have a smoke. But he didn’t smell a cigarette, didn’t hear the sounds of the streets below like he usually would when she propped up a window to smoke. The apartment had fallen into an unsettling quiet. He knew she was there, at least. There was nowhere for her to go.

And as the minutes ticked by he knew it was too long for her to just be using the bathroom. Frank wondered how long she had waited to go to her own bed after he had fallen asleep. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to hold her. It could have been too much too fast. Overwhelming.

Mila had gone so long without normal human interaction. And who knows what they had really done to her, what even Adler had really done to her. Almost every person she had come into contact with over the past year had caused her some kind of pain. Or tried to kill her. He of all people knew how it could be to spend so long in a state where almost every human interaction ended in suffering. Where torture was the name of the game. And to come back to the world where even a simple touch felt like fire on the skin at first because you no longer knew the difference.

Frank remembered how difficult it was to even take so much as the soft cool hands of a nurse at the hospital, forget about anything more intimate. It was what drove him to leave in the middle of the night after his first hookup when he got out of the hospital. A dick move, he knew, but he couldn’t stand the idea of cuddling in bed. Nor having someone see him shirtless in the light of day covered in healing wounds and soon-to-be scars. Of waking up and having coffee, making idle chatter before making excuses to leave because he has such a busy day ahead.

Why had he thought Mila would be any different?

She wasn’t exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type. Frank hated to admit it but it hurt, just a little. He rolled over, turning his back to her side of the bed once again.

Her side?

She didn’t have a side in this bed. They didn’t share it. She had her own bed. And she was using it. Of course, Mila liked the little independence she could get.

Hadn’t he already figured that out?

Frank resolved to go back to sleep, but of course it wouldn’t come. It shouldn’t bother him so much, it’s not like he hadn’t had something casual before. But it still nagged at him. And then he had a thought that made him sit up in bed.

Had he hurt her?

He slipped out of bed, pausing when his feet hit the floor.

Had he gotten it wrong? Misread her somehow?

He thought about the way she smiled. How those huge brown eyes pleading with him when she told him she wanted him.

Had he missed something?

And if she was angry shouldn’t he leave her alone? Give her space?

But even as he thought this he found himself rising and heading for the door. He never would have intentionally hurt her.

But what if she didn’t see it that way? Everyone else is out to get her why should Frank be any different? Just using her.

He paused again, in the living room this time, hoping that’s not what she thought. That he was overthinking. But then found himself standing in front of her door. A strip of light illuminated the crack under her bedroom door. Frank raised his fist to knock, but again stopped short. He felt torn.

Was this just something he was doing to make himself feel better or was it genuine worry for her? Why was he doubting himself so much?

Through the door he thought he heard a sob and it tugged at his heart. And then he knew it was for her. If she was angry with him he resolved himself to just own up to it. If she was anyone else he could feel comfortable letting her have her space. But given everything that had happened to her he just needed to know she was ok. If she didn’t want him there she could throw a book at him. He tapped gently on the door. After a moment without response he carefully nudged it open.

He followed a streak of light cast across the floor to the ajar bathroom door. He heard her sniffle softly.

She really was crying.

Fuck. He was such an idiot. He shouldn’t have let things go so far. And now she was upset.

He shook the thoughts from his mind and stepped forward. As he breached the entryway of the bathroom he saw her sitting on the edge of the tub. She was wearing his shirt and crying into a wad of toilet paper.

“Mila?” He said gently, knocking on the doorframe as he spoke.

She started, then turned, eyes rimmed with red.

“Shit,” He said. Frank moved forward, then fought the impulse, stopping halfway in the bathroom with his arms out as if to reach for her.

She turned away from him then and ducked her head so her hair covered her face. It seemed to him more like she was embarrassed than angry. But maybe that was wishful thinking.

“Are you-” He took a step forward, hands still out as if to catch her- “you ok?”

A stupid and useless question. It was obvious she wasn’t.

Sobbing in the bathroom. Sobbing in the bathroom after their night together. He was sure she’d be asking him if she could go back to live at the Safehouse next.

Mila shook her head. He could hear it now, her starting to speak then clamming up. Then she just shook her head again.

“Mila-” He started again. “I’m-”

Frank stopped.

He’s what?

He doesn’t even know what’s wrong.

“I didn’t-” He took in a breath as he began again- “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

It was a hard question to ask. But at least she didn’t make him wait long for a response.

“What?” She asked, sounding confused. Mila sniffed loudly and turned to look at him again. Wet tears just brimming her eyes caught the light of the bathroom making them look even bigger. And there it was again, like something was tugging at his chest. She looked away and sniffed again, rubbing her red nose with a fraying wad of toilet paper.

“No, of course not,” She said with a tone of disbelief. Relief washed through him and he immediately felt bad about it. Mila was still crying.

“Then what- why are you crying?” Frank asked with too much intensity.

At least he could offer some comfort to her. Frank grabbed the roll of toilet paper off its holder and sat next to her on the edge of the tub.

She drew in a snotty breath. And she looked around, almost, bewildered. Unsure what to do with herself. He grabbed another handful of toilet paper for her and handed it to her. She promptly blew her nose.

“Mila,” He said, trying to coax it out of her.

She glanced up at him and looked as if she was going to say something.

Then she looked away, doubled over, and wrapped her arms around herself in a hug.

“I had a nightmare,” She said finally.

A nightmare. Of course. Letting go of control over your body will do that. Letting yourself relax for one moment and it’s like your mind is working against you again.

“You could have woken me up.”

“I didn’t want you to know. That doesn’t sound good, does it? A nightmare… after…?” She looked up at him, something in her eyes was begging for understanding. So she wouldn’t have to explain it. He could understand that too. Worried that he’d be offended, that he’d reject her.

“I know the feeling,” He said softly. Frank reached out to her, to let her settle into him if she wanted. He could take the rejection if she didn’t want it, but he needed her to know that he was going to be there.

“Come on, my ego’s not so big I’m gonna take that personally,” He said, with a little laugh. She smirked and an amused hum escaped her lips.

“Come on, Mila,” He coaxed her again. She took in a ragged breath and scooted over to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her body was ice cold against his.

“You’re all right,” He said stroking her hair.

They settled into bed again. Frank hadn’t asked her about the nightmare and she hadn’t volunteered. If she wanted to tell him she would, but he did remind her if she had another one to just wake him up.

Frank lay on his back. Even though it hadn’t been the reason for her crying, he thought it would be best to give her a little space. But to his surprise, Mila wrapped an arm around him and rested her head on his chest. She was still freezing cold so he reached down and yanked the sheets up around her, then he rested his hand on her shoulder. At this, she snuggled up closer to him. Mila rubbed her feet against his and he sucked in a breath at the shock of cold. But all the same, Frank had to admit it was nice. Intimate. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept so comfortably next to someone like this. Soon her breathing softened, and she slipped into sleep quickly. He felt a warmth in his chest blossoming just under where her head lay. Mila trusted him.

For a moment he allowed himself to think he could get used to this, but he quickly let the thought slip from his mind. Things were too complicated for that. He didn’t know what it meant to her. Probably nothing. She was just blowing off steam and he was just the guy who was there. Convenient.

Yeah, that’s what he’d tell himself.

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#call of duty #frank woods #cod bell #frank woods x bell #bocw #black ops #black ops cold war #frank x mila

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christinebloodwrittings · 4 months

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To hunt or be hunted #13

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Finally Lucifer's turn, Ft. a voyeur Alastor. Warnings: Light smut, talk about SA and assault.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz @looking106

Back at the palace, in his office. How he dreaded to come back to the solitude after months of your company and comprehension. That’s what it was, right? After all you were only with him because he could provide you with a good night sleep. That and unconditional support.

If his love wasn’t enough to make her stay after thousands of years of marriage, how could he ensure to convince you to do the same, to stay? He thought looking at the portrait of him and Charlie, with a black veil hovering on top of Lilith’s face.

“How did it end like this? Why I wasn’t enough?” he sighed, looking at the stack of papers lying on his desk. With a groan he prompted himself and sat, the amount of papers that wrath had sent over to the Hotel were nothing compared with the ones at the office, he was going to be there for a while.

License after contract after whatever stupidity the sins had been proposing over the years he had excluded himself from their world. Something if he could notice among all the garbage that he asked to be approved, the economy had gone down the drain and it was increasingly difficult to find ways to farm correctly.

With determination, he went out to the balcony and from between his hands and a tear that fell from his cheek he released a cloud that covered the skies of his ring. With a little bit of a sentiment he allowed water to fall on his land, he then sent the water over to Sloth, who’s people took care of the plantations and medicines.

One small thing that might make a significant change.

He then sent over to Greed plans to “make more by charging less” only to deceive Mammon into agreeing to reduce the expense of “After-life”, otherwise if he found out he was going to lose money, he would be there banging on his door, whining for a century. That thought made him let out an exhausted laugh as he finished writing.

Unconsciously he had skipped lunch, normally you are there to remind him and get him off the ducks to go eat. He felt as useless as he did when he fell. And how not to do it? A monarch who barely cares for his people, immersed in depression and loneliness.

"Your Majesty?" an IMP opened the door, silver tray in hand, "Yes, tell me?" He barely murmured the words to him, having been between papers for more than nine hours, "He told me to tell him when it was eight thirty." He glanced at the clock on the wall, indeed eight thirty. "Ah thank you" he took the pill on the tray and took two pills, a refill of the antidepressant that Belphegor sent him every two weeks.

"It's already eight" he thought out loud, lazily, the weight of not having moved for hours settled on him like an anchor on his back, he made a portal to his hotel room, finding a plate of food with a note, when he saw that it was your handwriting, he felt a tickle in his heart.

‘Eat, see you in a minute’ he smiled like a lovesick boy, taking the note to his drawer and setting it inside a box, along with other notes you had wrote for him, including the first one.

“Hey, you look tired” he didn’t noticed you were in the room until your hands passed over his shoulders to lay on his chest, untying his bowtie as he took another bite of the stake you had prepared. “Too many papers” he spoke, one hand with a fork and the other on one of your hands.

“I can help with the rest if you want” he smiled and shook his head, “I neglected my obligations for too long, I have to be responsible of the damage now” you kissed his temple, a happy sigh as your reward. “How was your day?” ‘tell him about the threat and add to his stress, or lie and handle it later?’ you pondered for a minute, then decided to tell him but not quite.

“I was threatened, by an unsightly demon, I have to admit she was good, but she wanted my business” he swallowed the last bite before he turned his head to see you, not one sight of bruises or injuries, “And did she survived?” unfortunately, “She managed to slip away, but I’ll pay no heed to that”.

“The axe-man being merciful? Let’s go buy a lottery ticket, we may win tonight” you pinched his side in spite of his bad joke, “You little…I prefer horse races” he kissed your hand with a smile, then flicked the fingers on the other, a smug grin adorned his face.

The candle flames of the room turned purple, the ambiance changing in a second. “You should rest Luci, there’s no need of-” he shushed you by pulling of your waist around him, gaining you to sit on his lap, “No need… do you want to?” he read your enthusiasm in the kiss you laid on his lips, “Good, because I’ve been daydreaming of the bath you promised me” he whisked his wrist, the echo of water being poured into the bath was heard afterwards.

“Just a minute, my lioness” he nuzzled his face on your collarbone, his smile was a tired one, true but tormented. You noticed the bags under his eyes had become a tad darker, ‘Curse her, I will tore apart that prissy bitch for this’ you thought, your eyes shifting slightly.

“Y/n?” he called you, at which you hummed, staring at the void, “You’re tense, was the threat that bad?” you could tell he was worrying; he would read that info out if you continued thinking about it. “I guess I am tense, I have lost my touch” you stood up from his lap, “Y/n?” he called you again, his eyes fixed on any sign that will tell him anything.

"What you will see, it is not pretty or attractive. I have come to the point where I truly appreciate you and I can safely say that I truly have you in my heart" You walked a few steps forward, still turning your back on him, "But, I forbid you to show me pity or feel sorry for me or my current state, that is something that I will never forgive you for." You took the ties of your dress and undid the knot, and then let the corset fall to the floor, as soon as you did, the dress you wore pooled down around your ankles.

Lashes, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin from below your shoulders to your lower back. They didn't look normal, but rather they were deep and the scar had the appearance of a burn. Your back, contrasting with the rest of your skin, looked emaciated and rotten but without really being so. Lucifer had to put on his best performance to not show you how much it hurt and infuriated him to see you like this.

“He used a fire poker, that's why he looks like that. He ended up being my first victim in my debut as Axe-man” when you finally gained the strength to turn around, he adopted a look that you couldn't read, “This kind of violence, I hate it. I can erase the marks on their entirety, you just have to say the word” it wasn’t pity, he honored your request, it was something more, passion perhaps, “Will it hurt?” he nodded, “Do it, please”.

When the water was perfectly tempered, he magicked his suit away, he was the first to enter the bathtub, and provided an inviting hand your way. You let out a breath seeing everything he had to offer, himself.

“Can I trust you?” he asked, you wanted to make that question, “You can” you took his hand, the rest of your garments discarded on the floor, “I need us to make a deal, in exchange of my healing powers” the water was warm on your skin, it slowly reached your hips as he motioned you to sit on his legs, straddling his hips.

“Go on” your hands caressed his chest, all the way up to his shoulders, embracing him close, “No matter what happens after this is gone-” his hand traced the snake on your shoulder to the head on top of your breast, “I want you to stay by my side” the nature of his request was simple, his sanity, you worked as an anchor, to keep him grounded and steady, contrary to what he felt with Lilith, which was a freedom like feeling, but he was eternally alone nonetheless.

“I can’t give you my soul, I don’t possess it yet” he placed a kiss on your throat, making you gasp. “I don’t want to own you; I just want this...” his eyes were red, horns, you were making a solemn accord with the king of hell. “Truth to be told, I don’t think I can let this go either. Once I try the apple, no matter what happens next, will you still want me?” could he? Even if she appeared and you had to move on to make irreparable damage, would he stay nonetheless?

“Yes” he didn’t faltered, not a single doubt in his eyes. “It’s a deal then” under the powerful kiss that sealed the agreement, invertedly, the snake on your chest made a few movements back up, resting on your collarbone.

Kiss by kiss your body began to relax, your hips moved as if by inertia against his pelvis, accompanied by his hands on your skin. Up, down, he gently pressed his fingers on your thighs, wishing he could make it harder, but he rather avoid hurting you any longer. When the hard ceramic of the bathtub under your knees began to hurt, you winced, so he changed the position, he sat you sideways on top of his legs.

“Say it” you whispered, lowering your kisses to his neck and shoulder, “I want you, I care for you, I need you” his tip poked your bottom, to which you widen your eyes slightly and contained a laugh, barely, “You’re too pretty, that’s why” he blushed in an adorable golden hue, looking down to the rest of scars less noticeable along your body.

“Did you gave my offer a thought?” two fingers sneaked under your legs, parting gently your thighs to make way into your pussy. “I did, it was hard not to” you gasped when his touch reached your puffy lips, “Do you have an answer to it?” he kissed into your damp hair.

"I live in the possibility that one day, I will have to do something that you will not be able to forgive me for, and just thinking about how you would look at me afterwards, kills me”

“Like what, killing Charlie? You love her too much to do that” true, but inevitably if she were to appear, and gave you the order, you wouldn’t have other option.

“I don’t have the specifics Luce, but I feel something is on its way to threaten you and Charlie, and when that happens I will raise my ax against whoever attacks you, without a doubt” you held your heart in your words, he noticed your heart skip a beat or two as you did.

He remembered how he used to get wet in the rain, sheltering Lilith from it with his wings. When she left her, he was left alone getting wet in the rain, until you appeared, and he spread his wings once again, but he didn't get wet, you put an umbrella over him.

“That’s a lovely sentiment, but I can take care of myself, love” you hummed to his absurd pride, hidden under a kiss and a smile. “But I believe in your judgement, you love my daughter, as much as I do, probably” he kissed you again, smiling lovingly as he did, “And you” you added, it also made his smile grow.

But of course, your happiness was fleeting. Lucifer wanted you in a way you didn't know, but longed for. He put lust aside when he realized the water was getting cold, he went on to wash your hair, let your hands run the soft soap over his scars, and then activated his powers. His heart trembled when you started gasping and wincing while his specks worked on the scar tissue.

He offered you a hundred apologies, one each cry of pain you let out, until it was over. The only thing echoing in the room was your breath, then footsteps. “Ah, glad you finally decided to join us, Bambi” you looked past your shoulder, Alastor walked up to seat on the edge of the bathtub.

“How do you feel dearest?” he petted in between your ears, combing your hair with his claws on the way. “I know the pain is merely mental, it will pass” he then lowered his hand to in between your shoulders, “It looks much better now” he cooed, leaning to lay a kiss on your shoulder. “Thank you, doctor” you smiled against Lucifer’s skin, he let out a giggle remembering the previous conversation early in the morning.

“You two better get out of there, you’ll get sick” he was right, following by an eye roll from Lucifer, you two got out of the soapy water. Alastor had you wrapped in a towel, then brushed and blow-dried your hair, you did the same for Lucifer, having him smiling and relaxing made you feel happy, even more so, having Alastor’s ministrations on yourself.

“I was hoping I could get us some time; you know?” Lucifer frowned towards Alastor, who was nuzzling against your shoulder, “You were the one who said I could join”

“Okay, ground rules about my body” you walked away from them, dropping the towel as you made your way to the bed, “I don’t do group fucks. If you want me, it will be one at a time, aftercare mandatory, no anal” you stepped up on the sheets, pushing yourself back to the center, “You may bite and scratch me, but avoid important points, I will do the same”.

Alastor moved to a chair next to the balcony window, his gaze never leaving yours. The king discarded his towel as well, crawled on top of the bed to positioned himself on top of you. He parted your legs, setting himself so close to you, he felt eager to just ram into you, but he wanted to do things right, specially since he had public.

You felt him growl seeing the snake, “Mine, you won’t be taking her away” you smiled, his eyes blood red as he licked a stripe up in between your breasts. The snake moved a solid inch up to your shoulder. “It moved…” Alastor choked on a drop of saliva, “What did?” Lucifer went down kissing your belly, “That thing on her arm” he laughed, happy that you were happy enough to not want to die.

“I’ve only seen it move forward, interesting, I need to know more about this- Hey!” in between the king and Alastor, the smiling demon had the length advantage, but the king had the girth, and a long tongue, which was soon inside you. “Lucifer, ah! You don’t have to-“ voices, sounds, reminders of a skin that you left behind, yet palpable on your mind.

“You want me to stop?” the king was scared, he didn’t know if he had made something wrong, his own voices were tearing his mind apart, unsure of what he did to upset you, to bring a bitter look on your eyes.

“No, I just make the point that you don’t exactly have to do that” all the comments of the taste, the look, you just never wanted to hear that again. “I want to, pleasure goes both ways, and it’s about to earn the other person” after a few seconds of your wide eye dumbfounded look, he explained “Curtsey of the king of lust”.

“May I?” he looked down on you with a smile and a pleading look, like a kid begging to eat a piece of candy, “Alright” when Lucifer started sucking on the skin around your mound and then licking straight into the source. You grabbed his hair, gently tucking at it.

You shot a glance to Alastor, his shaft out of the fly of his pants, a hand going up and down while his eyes were fixed on you, a light blush adorning his cheeks. “Al, come kiss me” you pleaded in between breaths and moans. The deer didn’t hesitated a single second, he rose from his seat to kiss you, feverishly, tongues fighting and dancing a very dangerous tango.

“Mmh, Luci wait-” you moved your face from Alastor, jealous he bit your neck, triggering the pression building in your lower abdomen to loosen and implode on Lucifer’s mouth. “Next time is my turn, dear” Alastor turned your head with two fingers under your chin, claiming your lips once again.

“You’ll have to beat me to it, fawn” Lucifer made you gasp into Al’s mouth when he pulled your legs up his waist, “That’s for her to decide, arm rest” his taunt made you giggle, “Don’t be mean to each other” you caressed Alastor’s face, causing him to bleat happily.

“You don’t need a hand with that, big boy?” you purred hovering his lips, “Not this time dear” his forehead was on yours, “Alright” you heard Lucifer murmur before he tug on your tail, “May I have your attention, kitten?” his red eyes were a real menace to your mental sanity.

“I’m sorry my king, you have my undivided attention” he shot an unamused stare at the radio demon, who sat back in his seat. “Good” he pulled you closer by your hips, “I need you kitten, so bad, please?” he pumped his dick a couple times before coating the tip with some of your previous cum.

After the green light, so to speak, excitement got him so fast he ram himself into you. “Oh, shit it’s huge!” you gasped, your words made pride put Lucifer on a chokehold, he almost cum because of that. He was about to anyways, seven years with no action made him twice as sensitive.

He started slow, mentalizing as not to finish yet, though the way you were clawing his back, and squeezing him in was making it extremely challenging. “Kitten, I’m close” he almost made it sound as an apology, “Go ahead, please” after a few thrusts and lots of bite marks on your chest.

Over Lucifer’s shoulder you saw Alastor again, his ears pinned back, eyes half lidded, and his own cum covering his hand. “Magnificent presentation darling” he cheered, cleaning himself and you up with his magic.

The jealous king rolled to the side of the bed, taking you with him. His favorite position, his face between your breasts. Alastor tried to remind himself why he was in such position, then your tail wrapped around his waist and pulled him close to your back, and that was answer enough.

Bliss, only that filled the moment. But as sure as hell, you knew it wasn't going to last.

And it didn't.

When they warn you about the calm before the storm they mean it. The angelic chorus that followed the shot not only forced you to fly off a few kilometers against the cement and earth, but your left arm, black from the fire, fell off, reduced to ashes as soon as you collapsed against a building.

Trying to focus your sore eyes, you managed to see Lilith laying on the ground, and close to her Lucifer, who cradled her on his arms before taking off somewhere.

Meanwhile, memories, the threat, Charlie's order, the moment she dared to pull Alastor's chain and make him feel like a pet. Despite having lost your mind to violence, it never crossed your mind, not even for a moment.

That Lucifer would be capable of launching a divine lightning bolt at you to stop you.

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

Stay tuned the end is near.

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

Text

Capitol Punishment XIV

Haymitch x Reader ~ Completed

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 2.6K

Part XIII | Masterlist

A/N I’m radically changing the ending because I hate the ending of Mockingjay

You didn’t watch most of it, too terrified to see your friends be maimed by whatever fucked up creations the game makers could come up with. Plutarch told you, Haymitch, Beetee, and Johanna horror stories of all the planned mutts they had sitting in archives that would likely be brought out for this.

Those four days were some of the worst you had experienced. The only words that released the tense hold of worry on your mind came from Coin. “We’ve taken the Capitol,” she announced to the remaining victors in 13. “Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are all okay,” she mentioned with a kind yet forced smile.

But you didn’t care to read into that. Your friends were okay.

The next day you were entering the president’s mansion again. The first time in two years when Haymitch the was brought here and nearly executed for punching a Capitol man. Remembering the circumstances of being here last time Haymitch pulled you a little bit closer.

As you entered a grand meeting hall you were greeted by Coin and Enobaria. Beetee immediately got defensive. “What is she doing here?” he asked, remembering the knife in the back he had received from one of her district partners.

“Enobaria here is the last victor alive apart from the ones that made it to 13. The rest were killed shortly after 12 was bombed,” Coin explained calmly as if she weren’t explaining a massacre.

“I was the only one left in the arena that wasn’t a part of your alliance. They knew I wasn’t a part of the rebellion so they let me live if I did propo,” Enobaria explained with a shrug.

The doors then opened, revealing Finnick and Peeta. Annie immediately went to her new husband, embracing him. Peeta, now de-muttified, came to you and Haymitch. You hugged him first. “Thank god,” you whispered, having feared for his life and mental state.

“I’m okay,” he assured you, pulling away gently. He then faced Haymitch, his mentor bringing him into a quick hug.

“Where’s Katniss?” you asked as Johanna and Beetee approached to greet Peeta.

“Talking with Snow in the greenhouse. He had something to say to her I guess,” Peeta explained.

Nodding at his explanation you turned to Finnick. He was already two steps away from you, pulling you into a hug. “I guess you win shittiest honeymoon of all time,” you joked.

“Yeah, we do,” Finnick laughed, pulling away to greet the others.

The door then swung open, bringing everyone’s attention to Katniss. You were first in line to greet her with a hug.

“You did it,” you muttered against her shoulder. You felt her wrap her arms tightly around you, enjoying your comfort.

“Snow wants to see you,” she said.

You were a little taken aback but nodded anyways. You looked over your shoulder at Haymitch who looked hesitant. “I’ll be okay,” you assured before exiting, headed for the garden.

An armed guard followed you wordlessly, never averting his gaze towards you, only staring straight ahead. Shrugging it off you continued on until you reached the greenhouse, another two guards allowing you to enter.

You were immediately met with warmth and a very strong scent from the thousands of white roses that grew around you. “Ms. L/N, I’m glad you came,” Snow smiled.

“It’s the least I can do to honor a dead man’s final wish,” you returned his smile.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled. “And I’m sure Katniss will be the one to do it. Tell me, does that bother you that she’s the one to do it? After all I put you, Haymitch, Peeta, Johanna, and Finnick through much worse. Don’t one of you deserve to do it more?”

You practically spat a laugh out. “You really are desperate aren’t you? You’re not going to turn us against Katniss. Her executing you as The Mockingjay is bigger than our grievances with you.”

“Still, I bet you’d like to put a knife in my throat after everything you’ve endured.”

“The knowledge that you’ve been brought down to your knees by the people you considered to be less than the dirt on your boot is enough for me. And you’ll be executed by the girl I trained for the games, the very same girl who started all of this,” you sneered. “You know you could still be in power. You could’ve just stopped the games, said the districts paid their penance and been done with it. Or at the very least let the victors live in peace, treat them well. But no, you just had to have a group to be a scapegoat for all of the Capitol’s and Panem’s problems in order to harbor as much power as possible.”

“Do you really think Coin will be different?”

“I’m not interested in the politics. If she fucks up like you did, well the country’s so bloodthirsty right now I’m sure she’ll be gone within an hour of he decision. Goodbye Coriolanus.” And with that you existed, leaving in his prison of roses.

As you approached the meeting hall again you saw Katniss and Gale walking in the same direction as you. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked you.

“What what is about? I just left Snow’s greenhouse.”

“Coin has asked all the victors to meet,” Gale explained.

Shrugging, you followed them into the meeting hall, being greeted with all the victors plus Coin sitting around a table, two spots left for you and Katniss. You took your seat next to Haymitch and Coin began.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons, but first, I have an announcement. I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.”

“Interim?” Haymitch interrupted with a scoff. “Exactly how long is that interim?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it's clear that people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision. We'll plan an election when the time is right.”

Haymitch sent an astonished look towards you, as if saying, ‘Can you believe this?’

“But I have called you here for a far more important vote. A symbolic vote,” Coin continued. “This afternoon, we will execute Snow.” Everyone’s gaze slipped towards Katniss, including yours. “Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths. Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, game makers. But the danger is, once we begin, the rebels will not stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So I offer an alternative plan. Majority of five may approve it. No one may abstain. The proposal is this:” A pregnant pause mad everyone hold their breaths, “in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Everyone was taken aback, Haymitch even having his mouth wide open. Well everyone except for Johanna who was laughing. “You wanna have another Hunger Games with the Capitol’s children?”

“You’re joking?” Peeta calmly asked, a touch of outrage in his voice.

“Not in the slightest,” Coin answered.

“Is this Plutarch’s idea?” Haymitch asked.

“It was mine. it balances the need for revenge with the least loss of human life. You may vote,” she declared, settling back against her seat a little.

“No,” Peeta said immediately. “No, obviously not this is crazy.”

“I think it’s more than fair,” Johanna jumped in eagerly. “Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.”

“So do I,” Enobaria agreed. “Let them have a taste of it.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started these uprisings,” Peeta protested.

“I vote no, with Peeta,” Annie chimed in.

Next to her Finnick was staring at the table, uncomfortably. “I vote yes,” he said softly. “They’ve taken so much from the districts. They should know what they did to us.”

“No,” Beetee answered. “We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.”

Everyone was looking at you now. You weren’t sure. On one hand these were innocent children who did nothing wrong and who had happened to be born into the Capitol. But you also wanted their parents who were so complicit, and even perpetuated, your torture to feel your and the the districts’ pain. You turned to your husband, completely unsure what to say. He gave you a nod, his expression telling you to vote however you feel. “No,” you answered. “Those children are innocent, the same way we were. They don’t deserve to pay for their parents’ sins.”

“It’s down to Katniss and Haymitch.”

Katniss sat there for a minute, an unreadable expression on her face. “I get to kill Snow,” she declared.

“I expected no less of you,” Coin agreed.

“Then I vote yes,” she answered, shocking almost everyone. “For Prim,’ she explained.

“Haymitch?”

He and Katniss shared a look before he turned his gaze to you. His expression read something along the lines of ‘trust me.’ “I’m with the Mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote,” Coin said. “Excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight after the execution.”

You were all then dismissed, everyone leaving without a word. Unsure of where to go you just followed Haymitch into what you presumed was your bedroom for as long as you were in the Capitol. “What the hell is going on?” you asked as soon as the door was closed.

Haymitch breathed deeply before answering. “Coin isn’t trustworthy. She’ll become just like Snow.”

“So why’d you let her have her games?” you asked. “The Capitol will be rising up against us in a couple years.”

“I needed to back up Katniss so she knows I’m with her. Coin is already distrustful of Katniss, that wasn’t a vote to see if we wanted another games, that was a loyalty test.” Suddenly all the pieces fell together. “Right now Coin thinks her biggest threat to her power is Katniss. The best thing she can do right now is to play her part as Coin’s Mockingjay.”

“So what does that mean for those of us who voted no?” you asked, afraid of Coin’s ambition.

“Don’t worry, she’ll feel safe as long as she has Katniss’ loyalty. And even if she tried anything, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” He paused, struggling with the next words. “I couldn’t protect you from Snow, and for that I’m sorry. But I can protect you from Coin and I promise nothing will happen.” He sealed his covenant by pressing his lips to yours which you melted into.

When you both pulled away you rested your hand on his jaw. “Don’t do anything to get yourself hurt.”

Later that afternoon you and the other victors were marched out onto the Avenue of the Tributes, where you had been paraded around 8 years ago as well as just over a month ago.

Snow was strapped to a whipping pole in the center of the ring at the end of the avenue. Above you in the stands were both district citizens and Capitol citizens who were being forced to watch. Stood along the avenue, waiting for Katniss were the surviving rebels who had fought in the Capitol and the Districts. On the balcony overseeing everything were the other leaders of the rebellion, including Plutarch and Paylor. The eight victors were divided on the ground, they would be flanking Katniss as she fired her shot at Snow. Peeta, you, Haymitch, and Johanna all stood to one side, facing Snow. On the other side were Enobaria, Finnick, Annie, and Beetee.

As the drums began you could see Coin above you, walking onto the platform with her arms open, reveling in her victory. Down the Avenue was Katniss dressed in battle gear, the rebels following her as she passed.

Haymitch took your hand, squeezing it as Snow took a second to meet every victors’ gaze. You stared back coldly, fulfilling your promise to him that this was enough for you.

You all gave Katniss nods as she finally reached her spot, a silent promise that you’d follow her no matter what. You watched as Snow and Katniss met each others’ gazes, a silent understanding of hatred between the two.

“Welcome to the new Panem,” Coin announced, her voice echoing over the ave making you shiver. “Today, on the Avenue of the tributes, all of Panem, a free Panem, will watch more than a mere spectacle. We are gathered to witness an historic moment of justice. Today, the greatest friend to the revolution will fire the shot to end all wars. May her arrow signify the end of tyranny and the beginning of a new era. Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.” With those words she opened up her arms, as if embracing the moment.

Katniss wordlessly and flawlessly pulled an arrow from her quiver, notched it and took aim. The entire stadium held their breaths as she paused before suddenly aiming up, firing the arrow into Coin.

You heard yourself audibly gasp as Coin fell from her platform with an arrow sticking out of her heart. The crowd was clamoring in shock, you began to look around worriedly. ‘What the hell did Katniss just do?’

You could hear Snow laughing as Haymitch began tugging you away from the crowd that was now rushing at Snow, determined to finally kill him.

You could see some guards dragging Katniss away, the rest pulling the other victors towards you and Haymitch who was leading you into another room. The room was immediately filled with the sound of a million questions, trying to figure out what was going on and what would happen next.

The sound was only ended by Plutarch entering, letter in hand. “What is going on?” Finnick asked.

He took a breath, holding up his hand in a pause. “With Coin and Snow both dead the district leaders and I have agreed to hold a free election. Katniss will be sent away for now and will be pardoned once everything has calmed down. For now I need you,” he looked at Haymitch, “to give her this letter for me.”

“What about us? Where do we go?” Johanna asked.

Plutarch shrugged. “Your job in the rebellion is done. It’s time to form a government now. You’re welcome to stay in the Capitol now or return home.”

“What even is home anymore?” you asked, remembering what Katniss told you about 12.

Haymitch wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side with a kiss to the top of your head. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t have an answer for you.

“I’m sorry,” was all Plutarch said before exiting.

“So what now?”

7 Years Later

You sat on a bench, facing out into the harbor of District 4, Haymitch by your side with his arm around you. Peeta and Katniss were sat together on the other side of the bench, cooing at their new baby as their older son played on the beach with Finnick and Annie’s son. The couple inside preparing drinks for you and the other victors. Johanna and Enobaria sat at the table together, discussing the furniture that would go in their now shared home. Across and to the side of you was Beetee with his two year old daughter in his lap, playing with a small metal logic game as she tried to figure out the puzzle.

You smiled in content, enjoying the future you fought for. You had fought for this in the arena for the first time 15 years ago and you had fought for it again during the rebellion. You felt a finger reach under your chin, pulling your gaze towards your husband. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before pressing his lips to yours.

A/N And that’s the end of Capitol Punishment. Thank you so much for everyone who read and supported this, I had absolutely no clue so many of you would love this so much

Part XIII | Masterlist

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #Haymitch #haymitch x reader #THG #The Hunger Games #the hunger games x reader

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staytinyville · 1 year

Text

Stay Alive (13)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N NOT BETA READ (I did try the best to my ability) As normally! I love all your expressions over the whole chapter. Keep them coming! I love you guys!

All of the boys, minus one, were gathered in Jin’s room as they watched over your sleeping body. Namjoon was rubbing the bridge of his nose in a frustrated manner, while Hobi was hovering over your body, purple mist flowing out of his hands.

“What do you mean you lured her into the pool?” Namjoon scolded the younger boy.

“She didn't drown!” Jimin pointed out, not enjoying the lecture.

“But she could've!” Namjoon frowned.

“Jimin!” Taehyung looked at his closest friend with a frown, his features upset.

“I said I was sorry!” Jimin pouted. “Jin saved her before she could go all the way in.”

“I still smell like chlorine.” The mentioned man walked out of his bathroom, towel on his head as he dried his locks.

“How many times do we have to tell you to be careful?” Yoongi butted in.

“I didn't know she was in the pool!” Jimin cried. “My senses in the water were still trying to come back after they had dried me.” He looked down, feeling ashamed at having been close to hurting you.

The others all sighed as they realized they were being insensitive to Jimin’s problems. They knew it wasn’t Jimin’s intention to hurt you. Had the boy had full functions in his abilities he would’ve immediately noticed you the moment the water rippled with your body.

“She's fine.” Hobi spoke softly. “Just trying to recover from the hypnosis.” He gave Jimin a soft smile, trying to cheer the boy up.

“She should be fine after you did it to her.” Yoongi unconsciously spoke up, crossing his arms.

This caught everyone’s attention as their wide eyes turned to Hoseok. Now it was his turn to have a scolding. “Hobi?!” Jin cried out.

“She allowed me to put her to sleep!” Hobi tried to better the situation.

“Yeah but she didn't tell you to probe into her head.” Hobi glared intensely at Yoongi who kept opening his mouth.

“So it was you who put that spell on her!” Jin cried out, eyes wide with a hint of sadness.

Another member they all turned to wide eyed. There was just so much to keep up with at the moment. Taehyung almost said something about how today was just filled with so many issues. But he knew it wasn’t the right time to make a comment.

“What spell?” Hobi’s shoulders drop, his voice lowering at Jin’s accusation.

“Hey, he did go through her memories but he didn't put any spell on her.” Yoongi immediately went to protect Hobi. “I was there.”

“She has a spell symbol on her back.” Jimin spoke up.

“In between her shoulder blades. I felt it when I was taking her out of the water.” Jin sighed, taking a seat on his bed where you laid. He left room between you two, not wanting to touch you for fear of something happening.

They all turned back to you, frowning as their minds began to turn from trying to come up with a plausible answer. Hoseok frowned deeply as he moved a hand up to his mouth. He sighed, scooting closer to you.

“Jin hold her up.” He told the older boy. Jin frowned but moved at Hoseok’s orders. He scooted over to where your head laid. He moved you carefully into his lap, holding you up as he did back at the pool.

Hoseok went to move the dried shirt Jin had changed you to. He didn’t want you to get sick and he didn’t want the other nurses to know Jimin had lured you into the pool. It would only call for punishment for the younger boy. So he decided to change you into some of his clothing for the time being. At least until your scrubs dried.

As Hobi’s hands pulled at the bottom of your shirt, his fingers followed along your spine, reaching in between your shoulder blades. Just as his fingers grazed your cervical spine, something shocked him to the point where it left his hand numb for a bit.

“Ah!” Hoseok sucked in a breath, pulling back quickly. He wiggles his fingers to get feeling back in them, eyebrows furrowed as he looked between his hand and your back.

“There's something there.” He rubbed at his cheek. “Yoongi lift her shirt.”

Yoongi only gave him an appalled look. “Now you want me to invade her personal space?” The boy scoffed.

“Yoongi.” Hobi tried to calm down his annoyance at the boy, knowing that he was being a nuisance at the moment. However he also knew it was how Yoongi worked. He wasn’t one to keep his mouth from telling the truth.

“If she is involved with our world, things change completely.” Hobi told him pointedly.

“I'll do it.” Namjoon called, moving to where Hobi had settled behind you.

He tried to keep his fingers just warm enough to not make you feel the cold but not enough to cause a burn. He was soft in the way he touched your skin, trying not to think about how soft it actually was. He stiffly pulled the shirt back up, moving to stretch it just over your shoulders blades.

Jin pulled you closer to his body, worried the shirt would come up and expose you. He might have been the one to change you but he was a gentleman–he didn’t dare to take a look anywhere else that wasn’t the fabric of his clothing.

Hobi walked closer inspecting the symbol that blended in with your skin. “It's Bang Nim's spell.” Hoseok got back up, his back straight.

“How does she know Bang Nim?” Taehyung frowned, lips pulling between his teeth.

“She knows where Yuri lake is.” Hobi expressed to them. “She's been. He must have been the one to seal off that memory from her.” He turned around whispering to himself the last part.

“So she knows about us?” Jimin asked.

Hobi thought back to the memory he had gone through. He also went through the rest of them and nothing ever turned up about you believing in the creatures they were. He came across pictures and books depicting all kinds of mythical creatures but those were memories having to do with college or just curiosity about books. None of them really gave him the feeling that you actually believed in their kind.

“I don't think so. Our world was wiped from her memory.” Hobi spoke up, thinking back to the pain he felt when you touched the lake. As well, whoever that girl was was also wiped from your memory, so there was a possibility that she might have been involved. But yet, you didn’t seem to remember her.

Jin suddenly sucked in a breath causing everyone to turn to him. The others suddenly froze as they watched you stretch just the smallest bit as you started to wake up.

Your eyes flutter open slowly, the sleepiness in your body making you curl up into Seokjin’s hold. “Jin?” You whispered, blinking up at him.

“Hello, my dear.” Jin softly spoke, his fingers squeezing your arms in a soothing manner. “You okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you took in his question. “Yeah?” You nodded your head against his chest. You looked around slowly, taking note of the other boys in the room. Your lips wanted to turn downwards when you realized the only one missing was Jungkook.

As you moved to get off Jin, you realized you weren’t dressed in your work scrubs. You frowned, pulling at the fabric on your torso.

“Who changed me? Why did they change me?” You asked, looking up at everyone.

“You fell into the pool.” Jin spoke up, eyes glancing in a squinting manner at his friend. “Thank gods I was there before you went all the way down.”

“That's odd.” Your confusion only seemed to deepen as you had no recollection of falling. Even if you did, you were a good enough swimmer so why were you passed out? Had you hit your head on the way down? Or swallowed water from shock?

Your fingers rubbed at the shirt, pulling it up as you seemed to snuggle into it. “Are these your clothes?” You asked, turning to Jin.

“Yeah.” The man began to blush. “Sorry, I didn't want to tell the other nurses.” He looked away from you, hands playing with his fingers.

“No worries-” You stopped in your sentence when you noticed something about Jin you hadn’t before.

Your head tilted to the side, wondering how it was that you hadn’t caught something like that before. But then again, his fluffy hair seemed to always be covering up his ears so seeing it all flat while wet must have allowed them to be out in the open. You held back your dreamy look as you noticed how cute Seokjin’s pointed ears were.

“You okay?” Jin asked, turning to you. You had stopped talking mid sentence and never went back to finishing.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I didn't know you had your ears pointed. You look like an elf.” You giggled. “You look ethereal with them.”

Jin’s blush only came back full force. The others tried to stifle their laughter at the flustered male. “Thank you, my dear.” Jin smiled. He glanced at Namjoon who gave him a worried look. “I had them done.”

You hum in contemplation, remembering how Namjoon had said they had all been in the facility for the past 10 years. Does that mean that Hanseol offers things to them? You were reminded of Jungkook and Jimin’s tattoos. They too must have asked for those kinds of things.

“You guys get a lot of things down here. Didn't you say it's been 10 years?” You pondered.

"There were times we got to go out of course.” Namjoon answered. “Ya know, when we were healthy.” He sighed deeply.

“We come back after relapses.” Yoongi finished.

“I see.” You nodded to yourself. The thought of them smiling all the time and living the life they wanted started to pop up in your head.

You could imagine Taehyung playing with children and showing them his tricks. Jungkook would be known as a muscle bunny who loved boxing. Namjoon would travel the world to find the greatest art and read so many books. You could imagine Jimin as an idol. Yoongi would probably find a way to work from home. Jin would be an amazing caretaker. And Hobi would have his own herbal shop.

It brought a smile to your face to think about what their lives outside this sad place was like. Maybe they would have their families behind them, supporting them like you did. At that thought you suddenly perked up.

“Do you guys have families then?” You asked.

“We do.” Namjoon spoke quickly.

“I'd love to meet them one day!” You exclaimed, startling some of the boys.

They all gave you sad smiles as they thought about your response. “One step at a time.” Hobi told you, patting your head.

“Are you okay, Beautiful?” Jimin spoke up, shuffling closer to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled at him in confusion, tilting your head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You took a tumble into the pool and don’t remember. We were just worried.” Jimin sighed, feeling guilty knowing he was the reason you took that tumble.

“I promise I’m fine.” You beamed at him, noticing how he suddenly looked down. You waited until he looked at you to get out of the bed. Once the boy glanced at you, your eyes only closed from how large your smile was. It made his heart skip a beat.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.” You moved to take the covers off you. “I’m going to go check on Jungkook. I hope he’s doing okay.”

They watched you skip out the room, quickly rushing to the youngest boy’s room across the hall. There was a sudden somber feeling in the room as they took in the way you seemed to be completely in the dark about the mark placed on your skin.

“Should we tell her?” Hoseok asked the leader.

“When the time is right.”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @stvrfir3 ,

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lisbeth-kk · 4 months

Text

May Prompts (13) Laugh

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 13)

Summary: Rosie gets a surprising gift from her parents. Later, she surprises her Papa by proposing an interesting experiment.

Thirteen Years Old

I’d wanted one for a long time, but for some reason I’d given up hope, so you can imagine my surprise, when I opened the box Papa handed me.

“But it’s not my birthday yet,” I protested more out of courtesy than actual refusal.

“You need it now, and your birthday is months away. Think of it as a gift in advance if you must,” Papa said impatiently.

That should’ve given it away, but I was so taken aback, and my brain cells probably weren’t at their brightest. The box was heavy and by the look in Papa’s eyes, it was clear that this wasn’t just a tiny thing, but something grand and important.

“Open it before Papa combusts,” Dad suggested with amusement.

Papa huffed and urged me to unwrap the damn box.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Dad asked when I’d peered into the now open box.

I had become mute, and apparently also adopted Papa’s way of reacting when something unexpected and sentimental was bestowed upon him - rapid blinking.

“Fine,” I whispered and finally looked up at my expectant and slightly worried parents.

I placed the box with utmost care on the table and fell into Dad’s waiting arms.

“You liked it then?” he inquired.

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I kissed his cheek and turned to Papa. His arms embraced me hard.

“Thank you, Papa. I should’ve realised, but I got distracted,” I murmured against his chest.

“You’re welcome, Bee. I’m glad you liked it. You’ll need it the next couple of weeks with that science project of yours, and after that…well, I’m sure we can find some use for it.”

The gift was of course my very own microscope. A professional one like Papa’s. I’d tried his numerous times but having my own meant that I didn’t have to wait for Papa to finish using his. The things I missed were a Bunsen burner, flasks, beakers, tongs and so on, but I gathered that I would be allowed to borrow what I needed under supervision. I was already equipped with safety goggles, gloves and a thick apron.

Papa had a whole lab set up down in 221C, which he used for his fouler smelling and toxic experiments. I knew I wasn’t allowed down there when one of them was ongoing, but hopefully I could persuade him to let me in if I was cunning enough.

***

In the weeks following my science project, I collected the items I wanted us to examine together. I had no idea if Papa already had studied this and made a spreadsheet like he usually did with things concerning the residents in 221 Baker Street. Truth be told, it was likely that he had, but I decided it was worth a try.

“I have a request,” I said after breakfast a rainy Saturday morning.

It would peak Papa’s interest if I used more adult language, instead of just blurting out: I want to do this and that.

“Pray tell.”

I had to try hard to keep my poker face intact when Papa’s eyes beamed at me from across the kitchen table.

“I know I’m not normally allowed downstairs, but I’ve noticed that there’s no ongoing experiments at the moment.”

I waited for Papa to respond, but he just narrowed his eyes and waved his hand, indicating that I should continue.

“Could we perform an experiment together?”

Dad cleared his throat.

“Nothing dangerous,” I hurried to assure him. “Just…come up to my room and see for yourselves.”

My courage was about to evaporate, but I straightened my shoulders and soldiered on. I added a please for good measure, and we all went upstairs.

I had placed everything on my desk. Zip bags with hair samples, threads from our clothes and fingernails, (alright, the latter was a bit disgusting, but at least it wasn’t toenails). In the petri dishes, I had collected our different shower gels, shampoos, conditioners and hair products. Sadly, Nana used hair spray, so there would be a gap in my spreadsheet.

“What do you think?” I asked expectantly. “We can compare…”

“Rosamund Watson-Holmes, you are brilliant!” Papa exclaimed, quite elated, laughing like a big child at this wonderful prospect.

“I guess, Christmas came early this year,” Dad added dryly. “Have fun, you mad scientists.”

He still shook his head fondly and I could hear him laugh quietly as Papa and I made our way down to 221C for a weekend of lab work.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

Other tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 13: laugh #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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m0nsterqzzz · 7 months

Text

The Gift

pairing: katniss everdeen x district 12 reader

summary: when she can't be there to protect you, you'll be damn sure she finds some other way.

a/n: this is so fucking short but I have like 7 katniss fics in the work rn that i can't figure out an end to. it's literally only 1023 wordssss ahhhhh i prefer writing long ones so its more entertaining for yall but idk. im dying. started writing a enimes to lovers clarisse fic, and a taytay one, AND my leg fucking hurts. who knew breaking a bone hurts? not me yall. sos. send help.

Walking up in district 13, dressed in a hospital gown that wouldn't stop scratching your body with the material, and your girlfriend nowhere to be seen wasn't exactly pleasant.

After a minor breakdown, it was revealed from Haymitch that Katniss is a few rooms down, also panicking since she’s not allowed to see you. It doesn't bring any comfort, listening in the silence of the night wondering how she’s doing. The last time you saw her face to face she was shooting an arrow towards the top of the force field of the arena you and her were placed in along with 22 other tributes that had won previous hunger games just like you and your girl.

So now you lie awake in your hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling as the annoying clock placed above your door clicks and clicks. If you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath while covering yourself in blankets, you can almost imagine you’re back in district twelve, laying in bed with Katniss instead of laying in this cold room with the knowledge that your district has been burned to the ground.

Your eyes fall to the clock, watching the tiny second hand slowly spin around the full circle before the minute hand moves a little bit signaling only one minute has gone by. The only reason you finally lose interest in it is because the door below it slowly creeks open, a person with long hair and a gown similar to yours stepping inside and gently closing the door behind them.

“Katniss.” You mumble, a relieved smile coming onto your face. She nods, sitting on the side of your bed next to your body.

“Hey honey.” She whispers, clearly nervous a guard rooming the hall will hear her and come in to take her back to her own room. “Are you alright? Haymitch won’t tell despite my threats.”

You manage a small chuckle, nodding as you finally close your eyes and curl into her side. “I’m fine. Are you okay? Nobody will tell me.”

She’s silent for a minute, and you feel a wet droplet drop onto your arm. A tear, though you don’t mention anything to your girlfriend. Finally, the brunette shrugs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “I’m okay now.”

With a small kiss to the top of your head, she relaxes her head against your pillow before sitting up. “I forgot. I brought you something.” She reaches up to the back of her neck, shuffling around for a second before she holds something out to you. Even in the very dim lighting of your room, you can see the necklace. It’s one you're familiar with, for Katniss never took it off until she volunteered as a tribute for her sister Primrose about a year ago.

“My dad gave it to me when I was a kid.” The archer hushedly says, staring at it before glancing at you. You know the story, it being one of the first ones she told you when she finally opened up to you about the loss of her father, but you listen anyway. “He said it would protect me when he wasn’t there to do it. He died in the mines a few months after that.” When she learned her district she was born and raised in was now just ashes and rubble, she thought about the lost friends and that necklace. It was placed in a jewelry box before she left for her second time in the arena, and unlike the townspeople she was decent friends with, her mother was able to give it back.

You two fall into silence for a second before she continues, her voice slightly breaking before it goes back to normal. “And he was right. It has always protected me. I want it to do the same for you.” You’re about to object when she just gently shushes you. It’s her fathers, something she’s very dear almost all her life, why would you just let her give it away?

“I hold my dad in my heart. Not in the necklace. I want you to have protection when I can’t be there to do it. This is as close as we’re gonna get to that.” you giggle, looking in her eyes for a few seconds to make sure she’s sure about this before nodding and turning your back to her so she can put it on you.

Her hands gently touch your skin as you clasps the jewelry onto you, leaving a trail of warmth on the back of your neck before she puts her hands back into her lap. You turn to face her again, hands moving to fidget with the necklace. It’s a gold chain, a small sun charm hanging from it in the middle. It’s beautiful.

“Thank you Katniss.” You say, words sincere as she moves to lay in between your legs with her head on your chest. She doesn't say anything, just placing a kiss on your collarbone that speaks more than enough.

The door creaks open once more, her fight of flight instantly getting triggered as she shields your body with her own and looks over her shoulder. Her tense state calms a little bit when she sees it’s only Haymitch, mumbling something about needing a drink when he sees Katniss in your room. “I was doing night checks. Making sure your person’s still alive.” He mumbles, clearly pointed towards your girlfriend after she threatened him this morning with a syringe to tell give her updates every once and a while about how you were doing.

You find yourself letting out a small laugh, one of the first you’ve had in what feels like an eternity even though it’s only been about a month and a half.

Katniss smiles at the sound of your joy, the first real one since she learned you were alive.

She may not always be able to protect you, but hopefully the trinket will.

Even if it doesn’t, one things for sure. Her dad would have loved you.

Not as much as she does though.

#katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #what is that ending T-T #dying yall. send help.

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kwanisms · 2 years

Text

Kinkuary 13 Changbin — formal wear // choking

➥ power bottom!Changbin × switch!Reader summary: Looking at Seo Changbin, one would expect him to be a dominant kind of man but that couldn't be further from the truth. At least, not with his girlfriend. She's the one who calls the shots, especially when Changbin is wearing his suit and tie. wc: 2.7k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): switch!Reader, power bottom!Changbin, formal wear kink, sensory deprivation (blindfolding and that's it lol), choking kink, Changbin has an oral fixation, teasing, use of pet names (reader calls Changbin sweet things like babe, good boy), tit play, Changbin is very vocal, let me know if I missed any warnings! a/n: normally I'd write Changbin as a dom or as a switch at the very least but I wanted to try something different. I hope I did well and you enjoy this part! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms. Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Stray Kids taglist: @niktwazny303 @g4m3girl @rapmonie2047 @indigo35 @witherednotes @cixrosie @fay-ebrahim @kirooz @flowerboykun @beomgyusbabygirl Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED AND BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

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“Well don’t you look nice,” you said, glancing up as Changbin entered the room. He looked down at where you sat, eyes looking him up and down.

It was no secret between the two of you that you loved it when he dressed up, especially in a suit or a tux as he was wearing now. You always liked it the most when he came home all dressed up. It was like getting a present.

Noticing the look in your eyes, Changbin tried not to think about how you looked like you were about to jump his bones any second. ‘I should have changed at the building. She’s about to make it very difficult for me to leave.’

His cheeks turned pink, images playing in his head about why he might be late before he turned to search for his shoes. “Where are you going?” You asked, settling back against the couch as you returned your attention to your book, the tv playing in the background.

“One of my manager’s is getting married today, remember?” Changbin answered as he finally found the shoes he was looking for and moved to the dining table to put them on.

You did remember. You remembered how he came home and told you the news. You were happy for his manager but when Changbin said that he couldn’t bring you, in fact that he was forbidden to bring you with him, you suddenly weren’t as happy as before.

Truth be told, you were actually pretty bitter about the whole situation for a few days but as time went on, you eventually forgot that bitterness and went about your life as usual. Until Changbin appeared in his suit anyway.

Now you were bitter again.

It wasn’t like his managers didn’t know you existed or that you and Changbin were together. They were well aware and never made any demand that Changbin end things or hide you away from the world. Even the fans knew you existed.

So why you were forbidden from attending the wedding was beyond you and it was beyond Changbin as well.

“Well, have fun,” you said shortly, not noticing the way Changbin threw a guilty look your way. He felt beyond horrible that he had to be the one to tell you that you couldn’t come to the wedding with him. He wanted nothing more than to take you with him, show you off, and dance with you.

But his manager was adamant. You were not permitted to attend the ceremony or reception.

It was no secret his manager, for some reason, didn't like you and Changbin couldn’t fathom why. You were always polite, extremely intelligent, unimaginably funny, and a complete joy to be around. It was a mystery not only to him but to the rest of Stray Kids as well. Neither he nor his friends could figure out why his manager seemingly detested you.

He couldn’t do anything about it now. It was his manager’s wedding after all so it was his decision.

Changbin got up, shoes now tied properly and walked over to where you sat, leaning over the back of the couch and kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back later,” he said softly. You hummed in response, keeping your eyes on your book. “I love you,” Changbin whispered.

You set your book down and looked up at him. “I love you, too.”

He took the opportunity to steal a kiss from you, his body demanding more as he pulled away, not knowing your body was craving more but you’d have to wait until he got home later.

“I’ll see you later tonight.”

You occupied your time with reading until you finished your book and decided to get some chores done. The laundry was waiting to be done and the dishwasher needed to be emptied and refilled so you started with the laundry, making sure to empty both yours and Changbin’s hampers.

While the washer worked, you emptied the dishwasher, putting away the clean dishes before filling it with the dirty ones and shut the door. The washer buzzed, signaling it had finished some time later and you started the dishwasher and moved to put the wet laundry in the dryer.

While the dryer ran, you watched some television, catching the tail end of an episode of a drama you’d already watched with your boyfriend. You decided to tidy up to kill time until the dryer finally dinged, letting you know it was done.

With the fresh laundry in a basket, you sat on the couch, folding your clothes, sorting between yours and Changbin’s as you worked. You flipped through channels, trying to find something to watch but finding nothing. Instead you booted up Netflix and put on a movie you’d been meaning to watch while you folded laundry.

Once done, you took the clean clothes to the bedroom and put it away, hanging up your nice blouses and Changbin’s shirts. You put away the rest of the clothes and put the empty basket on top of the dryer, closing the folding doors and heading to the kitchen to make a bowl of popcorn before heading back into the living room to resume the movie.

As the movie was wrapping up, the front door opened and you glanced over as Changbin arrived home. He kicked his shoes off, tossing his keys onto the counter as he locked the door and walked further into the apartment.

His eyes landed on you and the previous expression on his face melted and softened as he moved to throw himself onto the couch. You let out a cry of surprise as he threw himself onto your lap, burying his face in your waist as his arms wrapped around you.

“Changbin, what the—?” You started but he shook his head. “I missed you,” he said softly. You hesitated before relaxing against the couch, running your fingers through his styled locks, messing it up but you couldn’t be bothered.

Changbin loved it when you ran your fingers through his hair.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table and you leaned forward to grab the device, ignoring Changbin’s whines of protest. You unlocked the screen to see a text from Chris.

Chris🐨: did Bin make it upstairs okay? You: yeah, he threw himself onto my lap as soon as he got his shoes off Chris🐨: good. He did not have a good time tonight You: what? Why? Chris🐨: he missed you a lot. He wanted you here You: i wish i could have been there but not much we could have done about that Chris🐨: i know it just Chris🐨: i’ve never seen him like this before Chris🐨: it really tore him up, not being able to bring you with him You: i understand, thanks chris Chris🐨: no problem y/n

You set your phone aside and looked down at Changbin. ‘Poor guy.’

“Did you have too much to drink?” You whispered, expecting him to say yes. “Not really,” he grumbled. “Just not in a good mood.”

Your brow furrowed but chose to ignore it. “Anything I can do to help?” You asked, noticing the way he merely shrugged.

“Oh hey, I didn’t get a good look at you before you left,” you said suddenly.

Changbin lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Get up,” you urged, making him whine in protest. You nudged him until he conceded with a whine. He got up and stood before you for a moment before sitting down. “That wasn’t nearly long enough,” you pouted.

“Do it again.”

Changbin whined but stood up again, cheeks burning as you checked him out.

“Are you done?” He asked, drawing your attention back to his face.

You got up slowly, hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then down his arm to take his hand in yours before tugging him from the living room and to the bedroom.

You pulled him into you, lips meeting and surprising him but he welcomed the kiss all the same as his hands found purchase on your waist. “What’s gotten into you?” He mumbled as your lips left his, trailing down his jaw to his neck. “Hopefully you will,” you murmured cheekily.

Changbin groaned, his hands moving to your hips, pulling your body closer to his.

“Shit, Y/N. All this because I wore a tux?” He asked, a hint of amusement to his voice. You nodded, turning him to push him back onto the bed, causing him to laugh as he landed on his back on the mattress.

“You’re something else,” he said as you undid his jacket, making him sit up to push the article off him, your hand going to his tie and pulling it loose. “You know you’re supposed to wear a bowtie with tuxedos,” you chastised him jokingly.

You pulled the tie off as he chuckled. “I don’t have any bowties here,” he answered as you undid the knot in the tie. “Then maybe you should get some,” you replied, holding the tie up.

“Keep undressing me and I’ll get something,” he retorted as you carefully wrapped the tie around his head, tying it firmly to restrict his eyesight. “What are you doing?” He asked, looking around blindly, making you giggle, pushing him onto his back.

“Keep it on,” you warned as your fingers moved to undo his shirt one button at a time until you got to his pants. You undid the belt, pulling it from the loops and threw it aside with a grumble when it fought against you.

Changbin laughed from under you though he couldn’t see.

Your fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants until you were finally able to pull his pants down, climbing off him and taking the fabric with you and throwing it away. You pulled him up to sit and pushed the shirt off him.

“You’ve taken so much off me,” he said as you climbed back onto his lap, his hands moving to your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “But you’re still fully clothed,” he pouted.

Without a word, you pulled your top off, dropping it behind you onto the floor. Changbin’s hands slid up your sides, moving to your chest to cup your breasts over your bralette.

“Am I going to wear this blindfold the whole time?” Changbin asked as your hips moved, grinding against his cloth covered erection. You nodded, humming in response. “Until I say you can take it off.”

You pushed him back onto the mattress, leaning over to take his lips in a teasing set of kisses, making him chase your lips each time you pulled away. “Stop teasing me,” he groaned, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a rough kiss, his other hand grabbing your thigh, fingers digging into your skin.

Your hips continued to move, rolling and grinding against him until Changbin couldn’t take it anymore. “You just gonna strip me down and not fuck me?” He growled.

You sat up, climbing off him. He thought he’d fucked up until he felt you tug his underwear down, probably throwing them somewhere in the room. You always undressed him so hastily when he came home dressed up.

You climbed back on top, taking in the site of your blindfolded boyfriend below you. Taking his cock in your hand, you gave him a few strokes before sinking down, your lips parting in a moan as you took him in one motion.

“Fuck,” Changbin hissed, his hands grabbing your hips. “That’s all I had to say?” He asked with a chuckle, letting out a moan as you rolled your hips experimentally. “Don’t talk back,” you warned. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

Changbin fell silent, letting out a groan as you lifted off him, sinking back down on his cock and setting a steady pace, lifting your hips and sinking back down on his cock. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, hands moving up to your chest.

“Oh, you finally got fully undressed too?” He asked, cupping your tits and squeezing gently. “Only because you’ve been such a good boy,” you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as his hands moved, thumbs brushing over and circling your nipples, the skin pebbling under his touch.

“He noticed how the skin changed under his touch. “I don’t even need to see to be able to affect you,” he chuckled, rolling your nipple under the pad of his thumb.

“I wish you’d let me fuck these,” he added, squeezing and pushing your tits together. You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. “Shit,” you hissed.

Changbin sat up, lips finding your nipple and taking it in his mouth, his tongue swirling around and lightly flicking against the sensitive bud while his other hand kneaded and teased your other nipple, gently squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. “Keep going,” Changbin said breathlessly. “Keep riding me like that.”

Your thighs were starting to burn but you weren’t going to give up that easily. “You sound so pretty,” Changbin whispered as you moaned, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Are you getting tired?” he asked in an amused voice. You lifted your head, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him onto his back.

“Stay down,” you ordered, making Changbin chuckle. He loved it when you tried to act like you were in control.

“Whatever you say, babe,” he said teasingly, his hands moving to your hips. “Just ride me.”

One of your hands moved to his neck, wrapping your fingers around his throat lightly.

“You talk too much,” you snapped breathlessly, squeezing your boyfriend's neck slightly.

Changbin has never regretted teaching you how to choke more than right now. He never expected you to actually use it against him but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little hot, your hand on his neck as you rode him, chasing your own orgasm.

He was fine with you cumming first. You usually did and he normally made it his mission to make you cum first so when you sank onto him one last time, moaning his name as you came, he was more than happy to take over.

He ripped the blindfold off, tossing the silk tie aside as he sat up, pushing you onto your back and immediately resumed the same pace, thrusting into you, pushing your thighs back and folding your body in half.

Not only was this his favorite position, he got to help you ride out your current climax while also speeding you towards another one. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before you were cumming again with a cry, chanting Changbin’s name over and over like a mantra as your walls convulsed around him.

The fluttering of your cunt sent him over the edge as he came, burying his cock as deep into you as he could reach, his load exploding inside you, filling you up as you shuddered. “Fuck!” Changbin hissed, arms shaking as he tried to keep himself from collapsing onto you.

He let your legs go, one at a time and finally laid down, resting his head on your chest, cheek pressing to your skin and hearing your heart hammering in your chest almost in time with his own.

“You okay?” you asked, fingers combing through his hair, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Just give me a second.”

You hummed in response, continuing to card your fingers through his hair as you both came down from your post orgasm highs, the exhaustion passing and giving way for the euphoric feeling that always followed.

“You wanna shower?” Changbin murmured, finally breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You nodded. “I could go for a shower,” you sighed. Changbin finally pushed himself up, his cock already having slipped out of you and his cum working its way out of your cunt. “Keep that in there,” Changbin said softly, using his fingers to collect the small amount that spilled out and pushed it back in.

You slapped his hand away playfully, admonishing him. “Changbin!”

He smiled cheekily as he rolled off the bed and waited for you to get up to join him.

“Now we're showering, right?” You asked as he took your hand and dragged you towards your shared bathroom.

“Right? We’re showering, aren't we? Changbin?” You asked as he chuckled.

“Maybe we are and maybe we aren’t,” he answered as he pulled you into the bathroom with him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin smut #changbin x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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cressthebest · 4 months

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 31

chapter 50: (15 chapters left)

1. oh SHIT the girls are fighting (sirius and regulus are at each other with nails and hair pulling)

2. “It's mean. It's nails and hair-pulling and brutal in the way only siblings can be. In mere seconds, they've both made each other bleed, and they don't seem inclined to stop there.”

i think the arena allowed them to do this, but they’ve been ready to go at each other like this for AGES. cause like, i want to go at my siblings like this sometimes. and then go watch tv together after

3. 😬😶 sirius just found out reg is a death eater

4. 😬😬 it was just revealed that reg did NOT in fact kill Coen. yikes dude

5. “"You're a fucking death eater?!" Sirius snarls as he dodges Yaxley's elbow.

"Yeah, it doesn't feel good, does it?!" Regulus snarls back ……

"How is this even comparable, you little shit?!"”

😭😭😭 plsss he’s so funny

6. damn, when sirius was fighting the others, he wasn’t going full force, cause he was having an emotional conversation. but he was still winning. and then he gets tired of fighting so he just in like two swift moves kills two people. jfc he’s scary.

7. “"I was going to lose James anyway, don't you get it?! I never even really got to have him! But you—I got you back. I had you back, and you took that from me. You weren't—you promised you wouldn't do that. How could you do that, after I—I begged you not to? And for what? Me? You think you did it for me? No, you did it for you. You tossed me aside, and it's not even the first time!"”

😧😧😧 holy shit, he just went right at it

8. “Grow up, Regulus."

"You won't let me!"”

😧 jaw on the freaking GROUND

9. jfc this fight is brutal. i think it would hurt less for them to just kill the other. cause like, these words hurt even ME

10. “"What I regret most isn't that you broke your promise, Sirius," Regulus continues. "It's that I wasted time caring enough to ask for a promise from you at all."”

yoooo wtf wtf wtf this HURTS

11. “”Let me guess, you told them only you could kill me? Something like that, yeah?"”

😭😭 sirius guessed it right and reg is like ‘😳 no…. i never said that. why would i say that?’

12. reg is like “😡😡😡 I HATE YOU” and sirius is like “liar ☺️”

13. i bet the entire hallow is on the edge of their seat watching this like the highest quality entertainment. no way has anything been this juicy in the arena for AGES

14. YOO WTF REG THATS OUT OF POCKET. HE JUST THREATENED TO HURT REMUS. MY DEAR, THATS YOUR FRIEND TOO! YOU CANT DO THAT!! LITTLE BITCH!

15. god, regulus is actually about to say it and just goes after regulus. like, hardly holding back. holy shit

16. “Sirius, for the first time, doesn't believe in his brother. Because Regulus wants to say Remus' name, and that would hurt Sirius more than dying by Regulus' hand.”

god, just stab me in the heart why don’t ya?

17. 😧 dagger raised above his head, ready to strike down in reg’s chest and just can’t. and then as he’s about to kill him, regulus says he loves sirius. good god, i’m actually crying so hard rn

18. “He can see it, suddenly. It does become clear, then, all at once. Regulus did trick him. He did fool him. Just not in the way Sirius was prepared for. He never imagined this at all.

Regulus never intended to go home.”

BAWLING LIKE A BIG BABY RN

19. “"Don't, please don't do this to me. Sirius, please just—please do it, or let me do it. Don't make me live without you, please don't, Sirius—””

YOU WOULD THINK THAT THE SADDEST THING HAS ALREADY BEEN SAID, BUT NO!!! IM SOBBING HARDER!! AND I HAVE A FINAL EXAM IN HALF AN HOUR

20. “It's horrible, because the arena has brought Regulus back to him twice, once when Regulus became a Victor and right this very second, but for Regulus, all the arena does is take Sirius away.”

BAWLING LIKE A BABY

21. oh SHIT james did not leave them a note this time

22. god, it hurts knowing that sirius doesn’t trust reg with a dagger. not because sirius is scared reg will turn on him, but that reg will kill himself

23. “"It has to be you, okay? It has to, because I don't want to go home if I'm not going home with you. I—I just don't see the point."”

that freaking HURTS

24. this entire chapter hurt like a fucking BITCH

#marauders #regulus black #jegulus #sirius black #crimson rivers

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arteastica · 8 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (22)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.9k

Your lips were usually the first part of your body his greeted, but when his teeth took the tender skin of your neck between them instead, you knew that the look in his eyes wasn’t the only thing that had changed that night.

He sank his teeth into the soft flesh, a little below your jaw, and it didn’t hurt. The first night you were together he promised that would never happen, and being the upstanding, dependable Commander of the Survey Corps, you knew he was a man of his word. That’s why, even when your body was trembling against his, chest so tight it was hard for your lungs to expand, you trusted him. You trusted the warm breath on your neck that announced the path he was following, a path that led him to a specially sensitive patch of skin below your throat, where his lips started to suck on a little harder than they ever had. But then again, it didn’t hurt.

Not knowing if your lips were allowed to say as much, you ran your fingers through his hair, letting them tell him instead, in their gentle, silent way that you missed him.

A lot.

However, unsure if that was something he wanted to hear, and fearing he wouldn’t return the words, you settled for intertwining your fingers with his golden locks, head thrown back and eyes closed as you let his lips have his way with you. Lips that, by now, had traveled all the way down to your collarbones, slightly visible despite your closed shirt. And, when he nipped the delicate skin, a soft whimper escaped your lips.

A small, innocent sound that proved to be enough to make him want to bury his face between your breasts, which he promptly did after undoing the top buttons of your shirt in one single motion of his hand.

“Erwin.” You called out timidly, his name becoming a combination of pleasure and pain on your lips. Pain that wasn’t exactly physical.

On one hand, you were happy he was touching you again. You were glad to be someone he still wanted to kiss, to hold, to fuck maybe; even after you had told him you loved him. His lips on you, feasting on the tender, plump flesh of your breasts were enough confirmation that you still existed in his mind; that he still craved your body, just as much as your pussy, hungrily rubbing against the hard muscle of his thigh, told him you craved his.

Another part of you, however, was lost in uncertainty; constantly asking herself if it was all worth it. If this pleasure was worth the risk. The risk of ending up feeling used.

Because, the more he sank his teeth into you, the more you realized how impersonal it all felt, much like his voice had just moments ago. There was something you couldn’t explain, something about his kisses choosing your neck and breasts over your lips. There was something unsettling about not being able to see his eyes. It scared you. Not being able to find, in their gentle gaze, the reassurance you needed in such vulnerable, intimate state; with your heart threatening to break your ribcage, your shallow breaths suffocating you more than helping you, and your pussy throbbing even harder with every lap of his tongue against your skin. But then again, that’s how your body reacted whenever he was around.

That’s how it reacted whenever you had the warm palm of his hand under your shirt, a subtle way of announcing that the fabric had become an obstacle that needed to be disposed of soon; which he promptly did, tugging at the front so suddenly and so forcefully it left you wondering if you’d find yourself sewing the bottoms back later in your room. But honestly you didn’t care, not when his hand skillfully unclasped your bra, revealing how impatient your nipples were to become the next target of his attention.

But, when time passed passed and his tongue never showed, you looked down to find him undoing your pants, not even bothering to look up to give any sort of explanation as he pulled down your boots, before throwing everything together to the pile of fabric only your panties were yet to join.

Only, they never did.

They remained in their place, quietly waiting around your hips for their turn, the cotton desperately clinging to the wet skin between your legs. A place that was leaking with want, throbbing with desire, clenching in anticipation.

Silently crying for him.

So much so that, for a moment, you considered removing them yourself. But that was before he stood up and his midnight eyes met yours, making you understand that taking your panties off wasn’t an order your commander had given.

“Comman- ah-” You moaned when his arm found its way around your waist; his body, still fully, and rather unfairly clothed, pressed hard against your bare skin as he lifted you up like a doll. A doll he wanted sitting on his desk, her legs slightly parted, just enough so he could stand in between.

His eyes bore into yours, telling you his plans in a language you were yet to learn, and maybe it was the gelid blue of his stare, or the fact that your panties were the only item of clothing you had been allowed to keep, but you started to shiver. Unsheltered, forsaken, and uncertain. Like a toy that was brought out of the attic one last time, just so its owner could decide if they would keep it or give it away.

“I’m scared.” The words left your lips in a whisper. A whisper so feeble you were unsure he had even heard.

Yes, you were scared. Scared that he didn’t believe you. Scared that he thought you were seeing Leon behind his back, kissing him in secret corners, letting him touch you in the late hours while you called his name, a name that wasn’t your Commander’s. And most importantly, you were scared of what a misunderstanding of that magnitude could mean for the two of you. For your future together, assuming there was even as much as a future to be scared about.

“I can stop if this is not what you want.” He said, and this time his voice sounded a little like it had back then, that unforgettable night when the winter was just starting and you had his naked body hovering over yours, glistening with sweat as he promised he would never hurt you.

It all seemed so far away now.

You knew, however, that his promise remained the same, despite his eyes and the way they looked at you changing so abruptly. And like so, you shook your head promptly, not knowing what was going to happen but wanting to see it happen regardless.

But despite your consent, he didn’t move a finger, choosing to stare at you instead. With those hazy blue eyes, disorienting and mystifying in an enticing, calming way; like morning mist hovering over the mountain lake on a chilly autumn day. And you got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you waited long enough it would clear up. Along with all the misunderstandings separating the two of you.

Because, maybe, all you needed was to stare into each other’s eyes, let them talk to each other before your lips could complicate everything with words. Because the more you stared into the blue, the more you saw, the more you understood, and the more visible the truth became.

What was hiding under the surface, below all that fog? What wasn’t he telling you? And, why he didn’t want to tell you?

You held all those questions in the trembling hand you lifted to his cheek, finding in his stillness the courage to run a gentle thumb against his skin, which was warm and comfortable, and slowly leaning against your palm. And for a moment, you thought he would close his eyes and let you hold him like you used to, not too long ago. But if there was something about the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, something you should be familiar with after working 8 months under him, was his unpredictability. The patterns that his thoughts followed were a mystery, and that is assuming they followed a pattern at all.

Because unpredictability was in everything he did. From the way his hunter green cloak would dance in the wind as he rode his white horse across fields of green, to the way he would lead his men and their lives into uncharted territories with a single flare of his gun, or the way he turned you around in one swift motion of his arm. Big, commanding hand flat against your back, holding you down, a whimper escaping your lips the exact moment your breasts landed on the cold, hard wood of his desk, left cheek squeezed against the papers he had just been working on; which you confirmed were indeed the reports on the new horses. And, as useless as that information seemed now, it was the only thing your eyes were allowed to see from the position you now found yourself in.

You squirmed under his hand, your naked toes barely touching the floor, the delicate clinking of trembling porcelain the only thing you could hear as you tried to adjust your position in an attempt to see him. But the only thing you managed to see from the corner of your eye was the sturdy, menacing frame silently standing behind you, observing you. And you didn’t need to see his face to know where his attention was, because his eyes were burning your skin, visually devouring the flesh between your legs, where your famished hole throbbed, greedily consuming the fabric as it stuck to your wet slit.

And a minute could have passed, or a year perhaps, before you finally heard the rattle of his belt, announcing the plans he had for you. An excited shiver ran down your spine just mere seconds before you felt his warm hand between your legs, furtively pushing your panties to the side with a flick of his finger, not even bothering to pull them down before running the thick, delicious tip of his cock up and down your slit. And something about his unhurried, leisurely movements reminded you of a wolf circling its prey before going in for the kill.

It was relaxing, in a dangerous way. Comforting in the problematic sense. So comforting that pleased hums started leaving your lips every time you exhaled. His generous, hard cock and the soft, moist tip running along your slick folds, reassuring you that he was finally there at your door, as if he had just come home after the longest of missions.

You let your eyes fall shut and your mind get flooded with all the pleasant imagery. Summer, him coming home to you after a long day at work, warm dinner served on the table much like your body was now on his desk, the pantry cabinet now standing sturdy and foursquare after you asked him to fix it; glass holding the lemonade you just prepared for him, and the peach rhubarb pie waiting respectfully in the oven as your clothes dried quietly in the backyard. A lovely repetition you wished to be stuck in for the rest of your days together.

A short lived fantasy that made your lips curve into a smile, a smile that turned into an open mouth the moment he pushed his fat cock inside, all of a sudden and without warning. All the way to the hilt. And then, just as unexpectedly, he pulled out, allowing you to taste nothing but the overwhelming emptiness for a brief second before slamming back in, harder this time, making you release a pained and very audible moan that you were certain someone, at least one person, somewhere in the castle must have heard.

“Comman- ahh-” You gasped when he pulled out again before slipping back inside, his pace growing more aggressive with every thrust. “Erwin- mmmh~”

It was so different today. He seemed so eager to claim you as his, not holding back at all when it came to the rhythm of his hips, and neither were you when it came to your moans. You heard yourself making sounds that had never come out of your mouth before.

“Erwin!” You heard yourself chant his name in notes you didn’t know you were able to reach. “A-ah!”

You were practically screaming and he didn’t seem to care if someone heard you. In fact, it was as if the louder you screamed, the deeper his dick would go as a compliment. Almost as if he was announcing, with every thrust of his hips, that you belonged to him.

As if he wanted the whole castle to know what he was doing to you, the things he was making you feel.

As if he wanted everyone, including you, to know that nobody else could fuck you like this.

As if he was belligerently asking, with every violent thrust of his hips, if a metaphorical someone could make you scream like this.

And who were you to refuse answering your commander’s questions?

“I promise I’m only yours hnngh~” You moaned as his heavy balls hit your dripping folds. “But, if you feel I’m not, then make me a-ahh~!” Your fist held the report he had been working on, now nothing but a crumpled up paper; your brow locked in a tight frown as you did your best to speak through the overwhelming pleasure. “Please, Erwin, fuck me until you feel I’m yours enough.”

And you knew he was about to do just that the moment he removed the flat palm he had been pressing against your back, and placed it on your hips instead, gripping the flesh with such force it made you think he was never going to let go. And you were completely fine with that.

His thrusts grew even more animalistic as time went on, and maybe it was the spice of the cedar desk against your nose or the vanilla of the white oak burning on the other end of the room, but it all made you think of an ax chopping wood in the middle of a forest clear, splitting it in half like a broken heart, yet oddly satisfying like gliding a hot knife through fresh butter, very early in the morning. In the kitchen of some cabin. Hidden in some faraway woods.

As he pounded into you, all you saw was the kettle and the teacup, forgotten on the opposite end of the desk, and all you heard was the rattling of the porcelain, as its contents threatened to jump out of the cup, taking excited leaps every time he thrusted into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that.” You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like a flower, starved of sunlight, after the sky finally cleared up. “Erwin, I’m yours mmmhh~” Every inch of your body belonged to him, and you wanted him to know. To know that he had complete control over every single muscle of your body, down to the smallest one. Hence why they all tensed up when his grip tightened and more desperate, filthy sounds started to leave your lips in appreciation of how deep he was. “Only yours. Do you understand?”

You asked, but didn’t really expect an answer to come out of his lips. He was so silent today, and that was fine. Because you were being vocal for the two of you. You were screaming so he didn’t have to speak, moaning so he could focus all his attention in fucking you, in sliding that fulfilling, indulgent cock of his in and out of you, over and over again.

In your office, and maybe outside too, nothing else could be heard that evening, nothing but your sweet little cries and the lewd, wet sound of his dick as it entered your tight hole, repeatedly and relentlessly. So relentlessly you soon felt it building up inside, like a cork popping out of a bottle, the foam menacingly filling the glass to the brim; like milk dangerously approaching its boiling point, threatening to spill everywhere and cause a mess.

A beautiful one.

“Yes! Please, I-I’m almost there, Erwin. Please make me c-come.” You clenched tighter against his cock, your body squirming so much his hand had to return to its former position flat against your back. “I want to come for you.” Bending you over. “All over you.” Holding you down so you wouldn’t escape. “Because of you.”

Perfection. No, even that word fell short. Artistic. No, you couldn’t arrange it prettily into words. Aromatic. Yes, you could smell it. The freshly brewed ginger, the zesty lemon, and the intoxicating sweetness of the honey. An infusion you would never be able to drink again without thinking about him. Fucking you like this. On his desk. His hand folding you over. The sky all those ambiguous colors. His heavy, velvety balls slapping against your drenched pussy, his swollen cock buried all the way down to the hilt. You. Completely vulnerable, entirely owned by him. And even though his swollen cock relentlessly pounding into you reminded you of a knife stabbing an open wound, ironically, you felt safe. Safe enough to let your eyes close and your smile widen, as you prepared to come for him.

next chapter

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tillthelandslide · 7 months

Text

Same For You (13) : Take Me Higher

A/n: hi!!! i'm so sorry it took me so long to post this, to those tha saw the unfinished version i accidentally posted, sorry haha. Once again I need to thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for listening to my ideas on this one and helping me always :). I miss you all and hopefully soon can get to a more regular posting schedule. For now, I hope you enjoy (p.s i love this series hehe)

Series Masterlist

(12) June

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut. p.s its a long one but trust me its worth it

She's stressed when she arrives at the studio, hands shaking with everything she does. The writing on the page is unsteady, fingers trembling against the strings of the guitar, making the music sound wobbly and flat. She doesn't have the band to fall back on, she can't ask Abbie to record her parts and she most definitely cannot escape the worried looks from the four men. Oh yeah, Jamie was sitting in on the session too. She wanted to impress him, but instead she feels like a mess. It's a nightmare.

George sits at the soundboard, thumb resting under his chin, fingers playing with his lip. He wants to ask if she's okay, but he also doesn't want to put more pressure on her. She sighs deeply, running a hand through her hair before throwing it up into a messy bun.

"Sorry one more time" she says, rolling back her shoulders and adjusting her grip on the guitar when it inevitably slips. Ross’ hand clamps around the arm of the chair, watching her, knowing how she was feeling, wanting to envelope her in his arms and take her worry away.

It was hard seeing her like this, from the moment they met her there was an indescribable ease that radiated from her, like meeting someone who was already exactly who they were supposed to be. Music came naturally to her and seeing her like this was… unsettling. They all felt sympathy for her, knowing (without her having to mention) that something was seriously wrong.

"We can take a break Y/n/n" George says, eyes finding hers through the glass as his fingertips press the button that allows her to hear him. Her eyes flick to Jamie's who smiles and nods, agreeing with George.

"No I'm good G, once more I swear" she says and he nods.

Matty’s hand hovers over George’s fingers, they don’t touch but when George sees his eyes flick to his, one look in his eyes and his finger stays put on the button for a moment, broadcasting Matty’s next words into the other room.

“This is it Y/n/n okay? You’ve got this” his words have her easing slightly, shoulders rolling back before she breathes in deeply, eyes shutting before they open again and she smiles, nodding at Matty.

She sees the red button light up, indicating that recording is in progress and her fingers move against the guitar again. She plays the guitar solo flawlessly, but all of the guys notice how her fingers buzz slightly. She finishes and sighs deeply, she still thinks she can do better.

"That was really good Y/n" Jamie says, smiling widely at her, putting his thumbs up, normally she’d tease him for it, call him an old man just to make him laugh, but she doesn’t… even he knows something is up then.

"Perfect" George says, and her eyes find him through the glass again, he knows she's going to ask to record it once more before she does and he speaks before she gets the chance.

"Don't ask to do it again Y/n/n, it was perfect... get outta that head of yours okay?" he asks and she nods with a sigh. George looks at the guys, leaving the microphone on so she can hear him.

"Going to go for a fag okay" he says and she nods mumbling a "be there in a minute, don't wait up" she says, nodding to both Ross and Matty. Jamie follows the man, phoning someone on his way.

Matty thinks about hanging back, but since his conversation with Ross he's apprehensive. It seems that ever since Ross told him to act the same, he’s been doing the opposite, he didn’t know why, but he felt a level of pressure now, although he knows that wasn’t the man's intention. But when Ross' hand finds his shoulder and he smiles, he knows it's okay.

"Hang back okay?" he says and Matty nods. When he enters the room, she's unplugging her guitar, placing it into its case. It's then that he realises she's using the light blue guitar, the first of two her brother had bought for her.

"You alright love?" he asks, she doesn't speak but nods and he knows she's lying. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at her, she stands from her spot, standing opposite him. She lasts three seconds before she sighs deeply, rolling her eyes and chuckling at him.

"That's not fair" she says, pointing at him. He shrugs and mumbles a "don't know what you're talking about darling" she sighs again. Her hands find her hair, letting it fall down her back from its place in a bun.

She finds it funny how quickly she breaks around him, walls falling down and colliding with his own, destroying them in the process.

"Liv called me this morning, apparently something happened at June's school, some bully pushed him over in the playground and he busted his lip... just shook me up a bit" she explains, hands resting against her forearms, almost to protect herself. She finds it a little ridiculous that she's shaking so much, but she wanted nothing more than to be there with June.

"Hey it's okay" Matty says, stepping forward, hands finding hers against her arms, running along them to calm her. She looks up at him with soft eyes, he smiles softly down at her and some of the tension eases from her.

"Is that what's gotten you so shaken up?" he asks and she nods, he pulls her in then, hugging her tightly.

"And why I'm messing up" she says, he pulls back slightly, shaking his head down at her.

"Don't do that... you're fine, we all get off days" he explains and she sighs.

"Mine had to be on a day when Jamie's here... wanted to impress him" she admits, despite thinking it sounded a little silly.

"He's impressed, trust me" he says, pulling her to his chest again.

"Do you know what's happening with him?" Matty asks and she nods again, mumbling her next words into his chest.

"He's in the emergency room at the moment, waiting to be seen" she explains and he nods.

"Want me to drive you there?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"No it's okay... He'd hate that" she says, laughing at the thought of an angry June. He hated fuss.

"Okay, but he'd forgive you... do you want to be with him?" Matty asks and she nods.

"I do... but it's fine... I'll wait until Liv calls me again" Matty nods and hugs her again. There’s a moment of silence before Matty speaks again.

"Any reason you're using that guitar" he points to the open case and her eyes fall to it.

"Didn't feel right using the green one today... don't know why, just a feeling" she says and he nods, placing a haste kiss to her forehead before pulling away.

The pair leave the room after that, joining the other men downstairs, both who have finished their cigarettes now, Jamie still on the phone. She smiles at Ross who wraps an arm loosely around her shoulders. George begins talking to Matty but he doesn't really listen, too busy eavesdropping on what Ross says to her.

"Heard anything from Olivia yet?" he asks. Of course he already knew. Matty still appreciates the fact he encouraged him to talk to her.

"Not yet..." she says. After Matty and her share a fag (mainly to save time) they return to the studio. She records some more for the track, less shaky this time. Half way through her recording some vocals, her phone rings by the sound desk. George pauses the track and speaks through the microphone again.

"Phone's ringing Y/n" he says, she rushes into the connecting room, taking the phone from the drummer's hand. "Girls" is the ringtone and they all smile.

"Sorry... Liv's favourite song" she says making them all chuckle before she's picking up.

"Hi" she answers, before her face is covered with panic. They can hear someone talking quickly on the other side of the phone.

"Okay, okay, okay" she says quickly "Liv! Breathe!" she says and they hear the phone go quiet. Her eyes flick between the guys and she speaks again "I've got an idea but just bare with me okay?". Liv mumbles a "okay" before Y/n removes the phone from her ear to speak to the guys.

"Okay... June's had stitches, but Liv's boss is being a dick and demanding she goes back to work but it's too short notice to get a babysitter and he can't go back to school" she explains and all the guys nod. George is slightly confused, but Jamie the most confused out of all of them for he didn't know who Liv or June was. Y/n and George had briefly spoken about the passing of her brother but hadn't spoken about his son or his girlfriend.

George shares a look with Ross, one in which reads "I'll catch you up later".

"I know it's a right pain in the arse and I understand you saying no... but could he come here for a few hours? Just until Liv can pick him up?" she asks.

"Of course love" Matty says and Ross smiles whilst Jamie nods, he doesn’t know who she’s talking about but he didn’t mind if it helped her out.

"Yeah... no problem at all" Ross says and then George nods too. She brings the phone to her ear again and continues talking to her sister in law.

"Bring him here okay? - Yeah the guys said it's fine... Yeah? I'll send you the address" they hear her say.

"Love, I can take you to pick him up," Matty says, drawing her attention to him. She shakes her head but smiles at him, mouthing a "thank you" as Olivia speaks.

"Okay... see you soon. Love you too" she says. She hangs up then sighs deeply.

"Sorry about that" she says, eyes finding George's then.

"You must be so confused" she says to George and Jamie, both who nod. She proceeds to tell him about June and Olivia whilst Matty and Ross clear up a little, having heard from her that her nephew was a bit of a menace and had already sustained an injury today and didn't need anymore.

20 minutes passes by and her phone buzzes with a text from Olivia, explaining that they were here. She leaves the guy's in the room, each working on something and not wanting to disturb them. She walks down the stairs, leading to outside. She finds them outside, June smiling widely at her and running and jumping into her eyes. He lands with an "omph" from her and it makes him giggle.

"Careful Junebug, don't get any more injuries whilst I'm gone" Olivia says.

"Mum!" he complains "don't call me that" it makes Y/n laugh, pulling him gently back by his chin to look at his lip. He has a few stitches on his bottom lip and it's a little jutted out, making him look poutier than usual. He also has a small cut on his chin that’s clearly been cleaned but didn’t need stitches.

"Ooo, look at you" she says and he laughs, pulling back and straightening up as if proud.

“Look cool huh?” he asks and it makes her laugh, eyes flicking to his mum who rolls his eyes.

“It was that Rory kid again” Olivia says, clearly angry at the fact. Rory was a child in June’s class who was a huge dick, he often made stupid jokes about how June didn’t have a dad and truly deserved to be shoved himself. She puts June down, placing a hand on the top of his head to keep his attention on her.

“Better have pushed him back June” she says and Olivia laughs when June’s eyes flash with mischief.

“Oh he did a bit more than that, didn’t you June?” Olivia says, the child's eyes flick up to Y/n and he nods proudly.

“Punched him” June says matter-of-factly, the tone making her laugh.

“Good on you bud” she says, turning to her sister-in-law. She doesn't doubt that Olivia had to have the mandatory "we don't condone violence but well done for sticking up for yourself" talk which gave her plenty of space to be the proud auntie, congratulating him for giving a mean kid what he deserved. Problematic or not, she didn't care.

"Thank you so much for this Y/n" Olivia says, pulling her into a brief hug and accepting the bag of his things.

"Happy to help... tell the boss to" she leans forward slightly so only Olivia can hear "fuck off" it makes her laugh. The door opens behind her and she turns, seeing Ross. She smiles at him and he smiles back. She's kind of happy that he'd be the first to meet her nephew.

"Sorry, was just checking you were okay" he says, stepping onto the street. It's very kind, a fact not going unnoticed by Olivia.

"Ross this is Olivia... Oliva, this is Ross" she says and Ross smiles at her, offering her his hand to shake.

"Lovely to meet you" he says "Nice to meet you, heard a lot about you" Olivia says, making the man raise his eyebrows at Y/n who rolls her eyes at her sister in law.

Ross' eyes then land on June and Y/n watches as he kneels down to greet the little man.

"You must be June" Ross says, each of the women chuckle when June grips onto Y/n's calf and hides from the man.

"The bassist" his words have the boy coming out from his hiding place, smiling widely at the bearded man.

"Nice to meet you, how about we go upstairs and you can have a go on my bass huh?" he asks and June nods happily, grabbing his hand in that completely uncaring way children did. Y/n stands mouth slightly agape at the sight, heart beating rapidly in her chest. Just when she thought she couldn't find him any more attractive.

"Thank you again" Olivia says, pulling her into a hug again, murmuring a "he's hot" before pulling away.

"I'll call you when I finish work" she says as she opens her car door.

"Junior" she says, drawing the child's attention from the man who he was talking excitedly too.

"Be good for auntie Y/n okay?" he nods before his mum shuts the door and carefully drives off.

"Ready for this bud?" she asks as June takes her hand again, one holding hers, the other holding Ross', he nods and the three of them walk him upstairs to the studio. Jamie meets them at the top of the stairs, introducing himself to the child. Maybe it's because Jamie is a father himself but June isn't shy around him, immediately talking his ear off and allowing him to take him into the studio.

The boy's eyes fill with childlike wonder when he enters the room, clinging to Y/n when he sees two tall men sitting in the room. One with curly hair like his, a guitar resting in his lap and the other tall man sitting behind a drum kit.

"Don't be shy June, they won't hurt you" she says with a laugh, one hand finding the back of his head and giving him a gentle nudge forward. Suddenly, the June she knows springs to life, straightening his shoulders and moving forward confidently.

"I’m Junior, but you can call me June" he announces and it makes her laugh loudly, her head thrown back. Ross smiles at the sight, his heart doing a harsh pitter-patter in his chest and skipping a beat. Matty puts his guitar down and walks up to the boy, leaning down and offering a hand to him.

"Hey mate, I'm Matthew, but you can call me Matty" he says and June accepts his hand, shaking it harshly.

"Matty" he repeats and the man smiles and nods.

"Some grip you've got there mate" he says, eyes flicking up to her, the both of them smiling widely at each other.

"You've got hair like me" June says happily, flashing a toothy smile at the man, his dimples showing on his cheeks. Matty nods at the boy before he loses interest and walks over to George, staring up at him with his mouth open. Y/n watches with her finger in-between her lips, trying to hold in her laughter.

"I'm June!" he announces again.

"Hey mate, I'm George" he says, shaking his hand too.

"Just George?" June says, cocking his head to the side.

"George Daniel, but you can call me George or G" the man says and everyone begins to smile.

"George Daniel? Aren't they both first names? That's weird" they all laugh loudly at that, George cackling, eyebrows raised at her.

"He's got a point mate" Matty says and she laughs.

"He's cheeky" Ross says and Y/n nods "little Dylan" she says with a smile, June then runs up to them, clinging to her leg again.

"He sounds like Dad" the kid mumbles to her. The guys fall silent then, waiting to see what she says.

"Dylan had a really deep voice just like you G" Y/n says to the guys before she looks at June again. When she met June, Olivia asked for videos of Dylan so June could get to know his dad despite him not being able to meet him. She doesn't quite know what to say.

She's grateful when she feels a large hand rest against her back, before the man is speaking.

"Your dad used to play bass too, right?" Ross says and June nods.

"How about I show you some stuff?" Ross asks and June jumps excitedly, taking Ross' hand and dragging him towards his bass which rests in a stand. She finds Ross' eyes and mouths a "thank you" he just smiles at her. She watches as Ross takes the bass in his hands, playing the bassline to one of their songs, it makes June smile widely, raising his eyebrows at the man.

"Wanna try?" Ross says and the boy nods excitedly. He hadn't been learning for too long (a fact he tells Ross) as the bass was a big guitar and even now looked a little funny resting in the small boy's hands. Despite this Ross teaches him something simple, smiling impressively when he plays it easily.

"He's good, '' he says to Y/n who smiles and nods. Ross tries to teach him something a little more advanced, an original baseline he had written for the song they were recording today and she smiles when June gets frustrated because he can't quite reach the right strings.

It's like watching a splitting image of her brother, when he'd get frustrated at her for not getting things quite right. She walks over to the pair, sitting down opposite June, next to Ross.

"Try this" Ross says, adjusting the boy's hand slightly, this time when he tries his fingers reach the right strings and he cheers happily.

"Hey mate" George says as he joins the group, "that sounds good" June smiles up at him at that.

"Ross taught me it!" That makes her smile widely and she can't help but reach for her phone, snapping a quick picture of the child.

"Wanna record it? Be on your first record?" George suggests and June nods excitedly.

"Alright with you, auntie Y/n?" George says, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth, making her laugh and roll her eyes at the man.

"Of course... going to be on your first record at the age of 6 bud" she says. Ross takes the bass from the child and he hugs Y/n tightly. Matty and Y/n set up everything ready for him, plugging in the bass.

"Okay mate, so this is how it works, see this" Matty says, pointing to a little red button to the left of where they stand, the boy nods.

"That will turn red when George clicks record" June nods again.

"And then you'll hear these little clicks in your ear phones" Matty says, nodding to George who clicks play briefly so June can hear what he's talking about. He then pauses the track to allow Matty to continue to explain.

"The metronome" everyone smiles at the boy's words, it also raises a few eyebrows, each of the guys impressed.

"That's right" Matty nods.

"Then you'll hear Y/n's beautiful voice okay?" June nods again and smiles at her. She rolls her eyes at the compliment but smiles at Matty.

"We can count you in and then you can play yeah?" June nods.

"What if I mess up?" June says.

"Don't worry about that mate, auntie Y/n messes up all the time" Matty says making her laugh loudly.

"Unfair" she says, eyes finding him, he sticks his tongue at her and it makes the child smile and laugh.

"Ready bud?" she asks and he nods. She shuffles back, allowing Matty to take over, the man counting the child in when needed. She watches proudly as he smashes it, getting the short baseline right on the first go. Ross steps in to take the bass from him and watches as the child pounces on Y/n excitedly, knocking her from her crouched position.

She cushions the child's fall with two hands on his back as he hugs her tightly. She laughs loudly and everyone smiles fondly at the sight.

"Smashed it kid!" she says, nuzzling her face into his neck and embarrassing him.

George does a quick edit of the new recording and then plays the track out loud. June sits up suddenly, clutching her hand tightly.

"You did that bud" George says through the microphone.

"Rockstar" Matty says, making him smile widely again.

By the end of the day, June is well and truly tired: having had a go on the drum kit (accompanied by George and making a load of racket), taught a simple guitar riff by Matty (after they spoke about their curly hair together, something y/n found ridiculously adorable) and having played Ross' bass again (crawling into the man's lap and working with him to reach the right strings, something yn snapped a few pictures of, immediately sending them to Olivia).

Now he's asleep in Y/n's arms on a sofa in the studio, with an inflated ego (having received a multitude of compliments by the bandmates), indented fingers and a happy smile resting on his busted lips.

"You're really good with him" Jamie says, sitting opposite her. The guys are working on this and that whilst laughing together.

"Thanks" she says, smiling down at the child as she smooths a hand through his curls.

"How old is he?"

"6"

"Ooo rough age that" Jamie says, making her laugh.

"Matty told me about your brother... Sorry to hear it" Jamie says.

"It's okay... been a while"

"6 years I'm guessing" Jamie says and she nods with a smile, eyes back on her nephew.

"You're really close with him huh?"

"Only known him for 4 years... but he's the most important person in my life" she says, eyes moving upwards and finding the boys. They were all sat at the sound desk, Matty's legs resting below the various buttons, arms hooked over his knees as he laughed with his head thrown back. George had a hand hooked behind his shoulders, laughing that bizarre cackling laugh he did that instantly made her smile. And Ross, sat next to Matty, eyes crinkled as he smiled widely, dimples showing and eyes sparkling, Ross’ chesty chuckle ringing around the room.

"One of the most important people" she corrects and Jamie looks behind them, where she's looking and smiles widely.

"They really care about you, you know" Jamie says and she nods.

"I know..."

"Think they would've been heartbroken if you guys hadn't signed the contract" he admits and she chuckles.

"Was always going to sign the contract Jamie" she admits and he nods.

"I know..." he pauses but she knows he has more to say, he hesitates but then speaks again "just want to make sure you're doing it for the right reasons" she knows what he's suggesting. That she was doing it because of them. She couldn't deny they nudged her in the right direction, made the decision an easier one, but it was always going to be the right thing to do. The offer was too good to refuse.

"I've wanted this since I was 6 Jamie... And we had plenty of opportunities but they were never... right? This feels right" she explains and he nods slowly.

"But does it feel right because of them?" he asks; it was a fair question. But she knew the answer. Her eyes find them again anyway and she smiles.

"It feels right because this is the first time we have worked with people who haven't shut down our ideas the first chance they get. It feels right because Abbie and Matty work well together, because Clara and Ross come up with dope basslines and because for the first time ever Jay doesn't fight against others' ideas, he rolls with them. It feels right because we've met people who are just like us, with a creative vision that they nourish instead of stomping out and a label who supports that. So yes it feels right because of them, but not just because of them" she explains and Jamie nods and smiles.

"Good" he says, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently before leaving her. Her phone begins to ring and the boy in her lap stirs gently, but not enough to wake up. She answers quietly.

"Hi" she says in a hushed voice.

"I'm downstairs"

"Okay... June's asleep..." she says.

"You got him?"

"yeah I've got him, be down in a second" she hangs up, hand drifting through the child's hair again.

"June my love... gotta wake up bud, Mum's here" she says and the child groans, stirring in her lap and nuzzling his head into her hand.

"Everything okay?" she hears, her eyes snap up and she sees Ross smiling down at her.

"Yeah just a stubborn child" she says, chuckling and attempting to wake the child again. When he doesn't wake she stands unsteadily, the child heavy in her arms. She begins walking with him but struggles.

"Can I?" Ross asks, gesturing to the child in her arms. She trusts him with her life and the offer is so sweet it has her stomach dipping and soaring. She nods with a smile and allows the man to carry the child, the two of them walking down the stairs. Matty watches him and smiles when their eyes meet.

"Hi!" Olivia says when she sees the pair, practically fawning over the man that's carrying her child.

"Thank you Ross, that's really sweet" she says, opening the back door of her car and allowing the man to slide him into the back seat carefully.

"No trouble" he says, smiling down at her.

"How was he?" Olivia directs her question to Y/n who smiles widely.

"He was an angel" Olivia raises her eyebrows at that.

"He played the bass with Ross and even recorded a bit for a track" she says, Olivia smiling at that.

"Oh that's amazing, thank you squish" Ross smirks at the name, reminding himself to ask about it later. "Forever going to be the best auntie, he's never going to shut up about his rock star aunt at school now. Thank you again... all of you" she says, directing the last of her words to Ross.

"Our pleasure truly... He's welcome anytime" it makes Y/n smile widely and Ross smile back at her. She knows Olivia is going to ask something a bit personal before she does but she doesn't have the chance to intercept it before it happens.

"Do you have kids Ross?" she knows he doesn't, Y/n had told her basically everything there was to know about the man. In fact, she was one of the only people that knew how confusing her thoughts about him and his friend were.

"No" he chuckles "my brother has a son... he means the world to me to be honest" he admits and it makes Y/n smile again.

"That's really sweet" Olivia says, eyes landing on Y/n and she smirks and raises her eyebrows again.

"Anyway... we should be going" Olivia says "thanks again", she steps forward, wrapping her sister-in-law in a tight hug.

"If you don't fuck that man I will kill you" she murmurs into her ear. Ross catches the gist of the words and it makes him smirk, turning his head so as to not look like he heard on purpose.

"You're so annoying" she murmurs back before pulling away, Y/n hands her June's bag and she then enters the car, stopping once she's nearly inside.

"Seriously do it, it will be good for you" Olivia says.

"Goodbye Olivia!" she says, rolling her eyes and shutting the woman's door. Y/n then turns to Ross, as Olivia begins driving off.

"Sorry about that" she says, awkwardly running a hand through her hair, hoping he didn't hear her words.

"Thank you for today... you were really good with him" she says, stepping forward slightly so they were closer.

"You're welcome... he's a good kid" Ross says, pulling her closer, hands closing around her waist. Someone drives past and beeps at them, Ross pulls away and takes her hand, taking them round the corner of the building for some more privacy. He pulls her towards him then, his back finding the wall of the building as he holds her flush to him.

"Care to explain what squish is?" he asks, one hand hooking under her chin, gently holding her face in his soft grasp.

"You caught that huh?" she chuckles and he nods. She laughs and rolls her eyes at the thought of having to explain this just because of Olivia.

"Promise not to take the piss out of me?" she asks, hands finding his chest, flattening against the covered flesh, smoothing against it and smiling at the sight.

"Me? Never" he says and it makes her laugh again.

"When I was younger... whenever people said things I didn't like, didn't agree with or things that made me uncomfortable, I would try to hide my opinion but without knowing it I would squish my face up... I showed videos of Dyl and I to June so he'd know his dad a little more y’know… Olivia has been calling me that ever since" she explains and Ross smiles.

"Well now I've just got to see that" he says, pushing forward slightly, nudging her body with his a little.

"Never" she says.

"Please" he begs, she shakes her head. He pulls her tighter towards him, nuzzling into her neck and mumbling another "please", drawing a "no" from her.

"I can be really persuasive" he mumbles into her ear before his lips find her neck, lightly moving against the skin. Her eyes flutter shut at the feeling and she sighs.

"Please" he mumbles against the skin, leaving a simple peck there before pulling back. She supposes it's because she knows he may reward her if she does it so her nose scrunches up, her eyes squint and her lips purse.

"That's simply adorable" he says, a jokey tone to his voice before he places a peck to her scrunched up nose. Her face falls back to normal and she shoves him lightly. He copies her previous face, scrunching his nose, lightly mocking her.

"You're mean" she says, hands pressing against his chest, sending him backwards against the wall again.

"And you're adorable" he says, leaning forward before he dips to the left, nuzzling back into her neck making her giggle, hands finding the back of his head, attempting to pull him away from her. Her hands grasp his bun, lightly tugging at it, he moves with it, pulling back from her neck, smiling down at her.

"Careful squish... might have to listen to Olivia if you do that again" he jokes but his words let her know that he did indeed hear her sister-in-law’s words earlier.

"Don't get cocky now MacDonald '' she raises with a huge smile. They fall silent for a second before her eyes flick to his mouth. It's a comfortable silence, undeniably sweet.

"You made his day today... thank you again" she says and he smiles down at her again, hands finding her chin again.

"It was nice... made me miss the little man though" he admits, referring to his own nephew.

"When do you get to see him again?" she asks.

"I'll arrange to visit them soon" she nods at that.

"Could come with me if you'd like... if you're not busy of course" he suggests and she nods.

"I'd love that" she doesn't think that it's perhaps too early for them, that it would be hard to explain to his brother what they were when they were asked, she didn't even think that she'd likely have to come up with an excuse as to why she wasn't available. She just agreed.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah" he smiles down at her, liking her answer.

"Besides" she says, tugging him forward slightly until their lips graze "you with kids? Hot." she admits making him smirk.

"Oh really?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

"Very" she says before pulling him the rest of the way, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Meanwhile in the studio, Matty is tidying up the space, putting things back into their original places. But when he goes to walk across the room, his foot hits something, kicking it slightly further across the floor. His eyes flick down, spotting the black notebook in which he's seen her scribble in a fair amount now. He leans down, grabbing the book and raising it up, but something slips from between the pages, landing folded at the tip of his boots.

He should've picked it up carefully, and gently placed it back in-between the pages. But Matty was just a man, a curious one who often did things against his better judgement. Things he knew would likely cause him more trouble than they’re worth.

But not this, not when he unfolds the paper, and reads the first line and knows this is definitely worth it. It’s a song scribbled out onto the page, the ink spills across the paper, the words almost completely linked, as if it was pouring out from her and she couldn't stop it. The title is directly in the middle, written untidily at the top of the page.

“Take Me Higher” it reads. A complete contrast to all the other writing of hers he’d ever seen.

Let our passions ignite, bodies tangled in the night

Don't lie, don't deny, I set your souls alight

"Souls" he murmurs to himself, hearing George mutter a "hmm?" To which he quickly rushes out a "nothing don't worry" before he continues reading.

You're the fire, dark desire, come on now, feed the fire

Heat rising, bodies colliding, dripping sweat, tastes like sex

Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we're finding what's next

Matty feels his heartrate pick up, his chest constricts just slightly, the air expelled from his lungs in a sharp exhale, one which comes out shaky and broken. He reads over the last two lines of the verse “heat rising, bodies colliding, dripping sweat tastes like sex”. Images flash through his brain, all of her in compromising positions, her beautiful body lathered in sweat, glistening under the dark light of his room. He feels his body heat, cheeks flushing as his eyes darken. “Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we’re finding what’s next” he reads the line again, mind plagued with thoughts he shouldn’t be having. Like her lips wrapped around him, or pressed against his own, or him, in between her thighs, driving into her until all he knew was her name and all she knew was his.

Her back is the one pressed against the concrete now, thighs spread, one leg hitched up, resting against his hip as his lips move quickly against hers, tongues fighting, saliva mixing until they don't know where one begins and where the other ends. She feels slightly exposed, the skirt she’s wearing hitching upwards the longer she holds her thigh up over his hip. The cool air meets her clothed core, her panties visibly soaked. Resisting him this long had been a difficult feat, but this, right now, was harder than any of those days combined. This is reckless though, she had been trying her hardest to hide this, but all it would take is for one of the others to come out and they'd be caught. Maybe it added to the thrill of it? Maybe it would be easier if they were caught?

Her back arches as he pushes forward more, she feels him against her core, hard and desperate. He pulls away when he realises what he’s done, not wanting to push her too far. But with a sigh she grabs his shoulder, hand drifting down his chest, down across his stomach, beginning to dip down until he’s breathless, curving back up at the last minute, landing on his hip.

“Tease” he mumbles against her lips making her chuckle against his mouth.

“I'll show you a tease” she murmurs, teeth closing around his bottom lip and taking it with her as she pulls away a little, the hand against his hip pulls slightly, until his clothed member collides with her clothed core. She releases his lip from the attack of her teeth, letting it snap back to place before he pushes them back to hers, tongue pressing eagerly against hers. He grunts into her mouth, one large hand finding her thigh, his palm squeezes the flesh and her skirt slips slightly, revealing more skin to him. He rolls his hips forward experimentally.

“Fuck” they say in unison. This was the furthest they had gone, it wasn't much, but my oh my it was euphoric.

Matty reads the words “touches” what seems like a thousand times, plural. His mind spirals at that, what was this about? Who was this about? He looks around the room, George sat with a pair of headphones on and of course Jamie is nowhere to be seen. Surprise surprise he thinks. He slides from the room then, escaping to the bathroom. He perches on the lid of the toilet, hand placed on his thigh, nails digging in when he reads the next words.

Now we're touching the sky

We are ready to fly

Take me higher, we'll soar and defy

I got the feeling that we're gonna -

He feels his blood rush south, imagining the way she’d sing this, voice breathy and high pitched, hitched in her throat as if she was about to… he imagines her again, sweaty body sprawled out on his bed, thrashing about amongst his bed sheets, back arching off his bed. She’d moan, a breathless sound, something akin to his name. His cock twitches under his jeans and his hand finds his hair, tugging harshly, other hand gripping the piece of paper so harshly it crinkles. He tries his hardest to resist the urge to please himself… tries.

“Fuck” he says, what would it feel like if she tugged his hair? That image of her arching her back flashes through his mind again. Only this time he’s hovering above her. His hand moves back down from his hair, he shouldn’t - he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help himself. His palm finds his aching member, pressing flat against the hardness, eyes fluttering shut as he imagines driving into her. The way she’d sigh, the way she’d moan his name, begging for more.

Hit that level, strum that bass, flick that switch

Let's get sinful, baby, let me be your demon's itch

Craving your touches until we unleash hot rock and roll

“Ross” she says, hands moving from his back to his bun, tugging at the hair until he growls into her mouth. Well he definitely liked that, she thinks. His hips move against hers, rolling forward, hitting her clit with every rotation.

He pulls back for a breather, eyes snapping south, accompanied by hers. He watches as he rolls his hips forward again. He sees his member bulging and straining against his jeans. Her eyes snap to the same thing he’s looking at, although it affects her much more. She caused that. Her, the one who had been shaky all day, messing up things that were supposed to be second nature to her. She did that to him, the man she had idolised since a teenager, loving the way his quiet nature fascinated her, the way his passion for music shone without him having to thrust it into people’s faces.

The man who belonged to her favourite band, the man who she had grown close to, the man she had begun to picture a life with, before hers had really begun.

She also can't help but notice how well endowed he was. She’s not surprised, the sight only confirming her suspicions, but it has one too many dirty thoughts bedevilling her mind, like how he’d feel inside her, how he’d likely reach places inside her that no one had ventured to before. She knew then, that she'd let him, and only him, paint those places with his cum.

He hears her moan his name again and his eyes snap to find hers again. Mouth falling open as he grunts, seeing her like this - back arching, chest pushed against his and she moans, eyes dark like the night - made him crazy.

He leans forward, lips finding her neck, kissing up to her ear, sucking the flesh behind her lobe.

“Let me please you” he demands into her ear.

“You are” she says, pulling him back from her neck, not wanting him to leave a mark. He shakes his head as he looks at her.

“That's not what I mean,” he says, lips pressed against the skin that's exposed at her chest, wandering downwards, over her covered skin, drifting south.

“Oh fuck” she says, realising what he means. He's on his knees then, lips pressing against her skin, moving to the left until they’re grazing her inner thigh. Her head falls back against the wall as her hands weave their way through his hair, goosebumps rising across her flesh.

We'll ride on passion's wave and lose all control

In your eyes, I discover lust burning inside

Matty’s hand dips below the waistband of his jeans and underwear, rolling his palm against his cock.

“Fuck” he grunts, he hunches slightly, slipping down the toilet a little. When his head snaps backwards it lands against the china, it digs into his head but he truly doesn't care. Nothing could get her off his mind, the lyrics she had written plaguing his mind with dirty, filthy, devilish thoughts. He imagines the way her small hand would wrap around his cock, he copies the movements, hand finding himself aching and hard, his fist encloses around himself. Her hand would be softer. He'd still be warm in her hand just like he is his own, but he knows it would be better, because it was her. He gives himself an experimental stroke as his eyes snap open, finding her words and reading them again.

“Fucking hell” he says as his eyes scan over the page, his hand moves slowly, up and down, up and down. His eyes mirror the movement of his hand, but quicker, trying to decide which line to reread, which line is his favourite, which line would make him…

He moans, thumb running over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that's seeping from him down his shaft. His eyes land on a particular line again, and he mumbles it out loud, wanting to hear how it would sound, not in his head.

"In your eyes, I discover lust burning inside" he reads out loud, doing his best to keep quiet. But then a moan is tearing from his throat and his hips are snapping up, thrusting into his own hand.

Explode like dynamite, carnal desire can't be denied

In this darkness, we'll do what we want, our secrets we won't hide

"Ross wait" she says, fingers finding his chin, tugging lightly at him sending him backwards, feeling the way his hair scratched her fingertips, making her think of heavenly it would feel in-between her thighs.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks with a rogue kiss to her inner thigh, tongue peeking out just so before he pulls away with a smirk. Her dark orbs find his: reflections of each other. She shakes her head with her mouth agape, the way he smirks has her core fluttering and her pulling her lip between her teeth.

He stands, fingertips pulling back her lip "don't bite that lip" he warns.

"Why? Wanna do it for me?" He grunts, pushing his mouth to hers, nibbling her lips before his tongue finds hers, fighting with each other, his winning in the end.

"Do you want this?" He asks against her mouth, his voice is soft, letting her know that it truly was okay to stop, if she wanted. His hand finds her core as he poses the question, stroking against the wet fabric of her underwear, making her sigh against his mouth.

"I want this… just not here" she allows him to weave his hand through hers, dragging her body with his willingly, giggles and laughter falling from them easily as they practically run back up the stairs. Her palm finds his mouth when they are near the top, silencing the laughter coming from him. His hand finds her waist, tugging her towards him, spinning them at the last instant until he's pressing her against the wall, trapping her against it with his lips. She moans into his mouth, her body working on its own accord, arching her back until her chest is flush against his. It was reckless, all it took for them to get caught was Jamie to come back from wherever he had disappeared to or for Matty or George to round the corner and see them in their current position. Which was getting more compromising with every second, because now, Ross is pushing his leg forward, her thighs separating and making way for the limb. She holds back the moan that attempts to tear from her throat when she feels the muscular flesh press against her in a way so heavenly her eyes flutter and the moan slips from her mouth into his.

“As much as I love those pretty little noises, you've got to be quiet” he says against her mouth. She gently shoves his shoulder, intertwining their hands again and pulling him further along the studio corridor, opening the first door she finds. The room is small, cold and dark, various cables and different pieces of equipment are placed on shelves which line the walls. She tugs him in the dark room and he quietly closes the door behind them, spinning them again until her back is pressed against the dark wood.

His lips bruise themselves against her neck as her hands weave into his hair again, and she doesn’t stop herself from tugging at his hair time, she wants to know his reaction. And she's so glad she does, because when she tugs the strands, it sends him a little further away from her neck, he growls as he pushes forward again. That singular noise accompanied by a subtle bite of her neck has her raising her leg again, hooking it over his hip and behind him, her heel landing on his behind and pushing against it, loving the way he grunts again, one hand sprawling out to catch himself against the door. It forces his clothed member to rub against hers again and she loves how he isn't hesitant when he rolls his hips forward once more. The seam of his jeans rubs against her clit over her panties and she can't help but moan into his mouth, a little bit louder than before.

His hand finds her thigh, pushing against the fabric that sits bunched there, pushing it further up until it rests against her hips, revealing herself to him. And what a sight, it has him salivating, panting, needing her - desperately needing her. But this wasn't about him, no this was about her. And god when he sees that little wet patch seeping through the fabric of her panties he so desperately wants to taste her.

His lips find her ear at the same time his hand moves down to her centre, pausing at her inner thigh until he speaks “let me please you love, will you let me do that?” he murmurs into her ear, taking it into his mouth after he utters the sentence. She nods vigorously, his hand begins moving and she wishes he’d stop staring at her like that for she knew if he continued she wouldn't last long.

Her eyes fall down to his hand as it moves again, he watches too, slowly inching closer to where she needs him. She didn't want to miss a single second of this. His hand drifts across her thighs, upwards grazing against her core before he jumps over it with a smirk. Purposefully missing it and landing on her lower stomach. His large hand lays flat against her abdomen, practically covering the whole of it, slipping under the hem of her top. Two fingers find the little piece of jewellery attached to her belly button, ghosting over the metal before it disappears again, inching south, back to where she needs him.

"You're such a tease" she says, making him look at her once more. He watches the way she bites her lip again and the way her eyes have darkened with lust for him.

"You're so beautiful" he says as his hand moves down again, fingers hooking under the top of her underwear and her breath hitches again. Two fingers toy with her folds making her sigh, pulling him forward until their mouths graze again. They don't kiss though, she simply pants into his open mouth as his fingers tease her, playing with her, searching her face, watching the pleasure appear.

"So wet for me" she swallows his words with her lips as he easily finds her clit, beginning to rub slow torturous circles against the bundle of nerves. Her back arches, her tits smearing against his chest.

"Fuck Ross" he pulls away after she says it, mouth hanging open as his fingers still.

"Why'd you stop?" She says but then he's slowly inching a finger inside her, making her sigh, the loud moans she's been trying to suppress getting harder and harder to do so.

"I've been waiting to hear you like this for so long" he groans as he kisses her again. His moans fall into her mouth and she moans back, knowing he'd swallow it. His finger slips from inside with a whiny protest from her, but she immediately shuts up when he begins tugging the lace down. She watches the way he pockets the fabric with a smirk, she mirrors his expression, her tongue peeking out of her mouth and swiping against his bottom lip.

He looks down at her again, without the barrier and he moans her name, pulling back completely away from her, her thigh nearly falling from his hip. His hands weave into his hair as he stares at her, eyes raking down her form, not knowing what to land on.

“I knew you’d be perfect but jesus christ Y/n…” his words trail off but they're everything, the best collection of words she thinks she’s ever heard. Suddenly the words, I and knew and you and be and perfect and especially Y/n are her favourite sounds. And the way they fall effortlessly from his lips: they’re perfection. He is perfection.

“Don’t make me wait any longer” he’s back in between her legs in a split second then, holding her thigh against his hip harshly.

He mumbles a “keep that there, pretty girl” before he lets go of the flesh. Pretty girl. They were her favourite words now, definitely.

His finger moves back down, faster than ever before, he slides one in, just one, feeling the way she convulses around it. He swears at the feeling, eyes trained on the way she takes it, so perfectly. She sighs and it's his favourite sound. He thinks he should record the noise, hide it in tracks for the world to hear, without the slightest inclination of how lucky they are. He pulls back his finger before pushing back in and curving and oh my it's heavenly.

"Ross" she moans again, gripping his shoulder harshly "more" her eyes find his and his hips move forward on their own. His body fails with a singular sigh of his name, the man never hearing it sound so perfect. Another finger joins the other, working in tandem.

His eyes fall down to see his fingers working inside her, curving slightly and snapping up to see her reaction. Nothing could've prepared him for it, a clench of her hand on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut before immediately snapping open, eyes bearing into his, glassy and glistening. Her back arches again and a pretty sigh of his name falls from her lips again.

But what really gets him, what causes him to twitch in his jeans, his eyes to darken impossibly more and him feeling the hardest he had ever been in his life, was the way she clenches around his fingers.

"Look at you…" he murmurs, eyes unwavering from her cunt now. "So fucking pretty, clenching around my fingers like that" her eyes fall to see what he's talking about, and she can't deny… it's hot. The way his thick fingers move in and out of her, the way her cunt looks wrapped around them and the sounds… the sounds might just be his favourite, that and the way she moans his name.

“Is this good for you?” he asks with a smirk, knowing the answer anyway. It's cocky, but it's hot. Really fucking hot. All she can manage is a quick nod, her mouth falling open and a moan beginning to slip. He quickly catches it with his mouth, not wanting to be heard by anyone else.

“Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we're finding what's next” Matty reads those words again, and he’s unsure whether it is his imagination or whether he actually hears her moans, but he swears he hears them. His hand halts on his cock, and he steadies his breathing, focusing his attention on listening. It rings out again, barely there and oh so quiet but it’s something. His hips fail him again, rising on their own accord until his thrusting into his hand, once and then once more before he wills himself to stop again.

And to focus… to listen.

Ross’s fingers curve again as his thumb finds her clit, applying euphoric figures of eight against the bundle of nerves. His pace accelerates and she really tries to hide the moans, hide her pleasure, but she fails… Miserably. Her back arches again and he fails to cover her mouth with his this time. He thinks the noise she lets out is beautiful, his new-found favourite melody, but he knew if they got caught they’d be screwed. And so his unoccupied hand snaps to her mouth. She giggles against it, a moan tearing from her half way through, muffled by his mouth.

“Shhhh” he says, laughing because she laughs. “You’ve got to be quiet love… we don't want to get caught” despite his words his movements don't falter. His hand loosens from her mouth, allowing her to reply. But it comes out high pitched, a mumble through her teeth, trying her hardest to remain quiet.

“Stop being so good at this and maybe I’ll be able to” she says, eyes fluttering as her voice hitches again. Her words inflate his ego and he smears his mouth to hers, meeting her tongue with such an unfathomable force that her head clatters against the wood. He mumbles a “sorry” into her mouth but she doesn’t seem to care, clenching around his fingers again as her tongue fights against him.

Matty sits in the bathroom next to them, hearing little noises here and there, not able to stop his imagination from running wild, allowing his hand to set an unforgiving pace against his cock. He muffles his own moans with his fist, biting into the knuckles to silence himself. He knew this was wrong, getting off to her noises well aware that it was his best friend drawing those pretty noises from her. He feels conflicted when he doesn't feel jealous… it just turns him on further. Making his hips stutter upwards, pistoning up into his hand.

“Fuck” he moans. He wonders what it would be like to be there with them, he swears he'd deal with just being able to watch, if they’d let him. He wonders if Ross would let him touch her too, if he’d allow him to join in. He thinks… he would. If it's what she wanted.

His pace quickens, the sound of skin colliding against his hardness filling the room. The paper has been discarded to the side, still in his line of vision and when he manages to keep his eyes open, they never leave it. He lowers his fist away from his hand for a second, opening his mouth and letting his spit fall, coating his cock just like he'd imagine she would. The sounds are wetter now and it feels better, so much better.

It feels like she'd feel, wet around him, clenching him, ready to milk him for all his worth. He tightens his grip, hoping she'd be just as tight.

“I want to taste you” Ross murmurs into her mouth, catching the oncoming moans with his own again. He wants to taste her, she loves that. “I need to taste you” he repeats. She loves that even more. She pulls away, lip tucked in between her teeth as she stares at him.

“Want that?” she nods, vigorously.

“You’ve got to stay quiet darling” he says and she nods again.

“I will” she won't.

Her head falls slack against the door with a thump as he drifts down to his knees, he looks up at her through his eyelashes and if that didn’t do it for her there would be something seriously wrong with her.

“Careful sweetheart” sweetheart, she sighs. She giggles a school girlish noise that slips from her lips before she has the chance to stop it when she sees him smirk again. She was never one for pet names, but when they came from his mouth, she loved them. She was obsessed with them, never wanting him to say her name again, only sweetheart and darling and pretty girl.

He fucks up into his hand, continuing to bite into the flesh, although it doesn't silence his grunts as much as he wants it too. He grunts when hears a thud against the wall next to him. What were they up to? He didn't know. But he could imagine. And by god did he imagine.

He settles himself in between her thighs, one hand gripping the back of her calf, drifting up and down once as his eyes land on hers again, wanting to check once more that this was what she wanted. With a singular nod his tongue meets her skin, separating her folds, causing her back to arch again. Her hand snaps to her mouth, covering it completely, the moans falling freely into her palm, dulled out as she bites into the flesh.

Her other hand falls into his hair and she smiles against her palm as his hand finds hers, manoeuvring it until his hair band is out and she can tug against the free strands. His fingers cover hers and he tenses them together, silently letting her know she could do what she wants.

So she does, tugging harshly and likely hurting him when his tongue swipes through her folds again. He moans into her and she moans into her hand. His beard scratches against her skin, a new feeling to her, but she likes it. The dull pain mixed with intense pleasure is a blissfully heady mixture that she’d never experienced before, her previous partners being subpar in comparison to him.

He pulls back briefly to mutter a “taste so good love” before he dives back in, swiping through her folds and collecting her juices just to quench his thirst before he focuses on really giving her the pleasure she deserves.

He finds her clit again, sucking the bud and making her clench around his head. He couldn’t wait to do this without her hand swallowing her moans, to really hear her, hear the noises he was easily pulling from her.

“Oh fuck that’s good” she says, hand slipping from her mouth momentarily before its back there again. He can do better, he knows it and she does too when he smirks up at her, fingers finding her puckered hole again. Two easily thrust in and he loves the way she instantly flutters around them, the pace he sets is unforgiving and it's not long until she’s on the edge.

She pulls away slightly when he sucks at her clit again, tongue swiping through her folds in the next moment. His fingers leave her to grip her hips, holding him to his mouth but she doesn't care, because it's not long until they’re pushing back in. He has her reaching a high she knows she's never reached before. Safe to say he’s ruined her for anyone else, not that was even an option now. She had him now and was never, ever letting him go.

His fingers curve, finding her g-spot and the way he caresses it, it has her shaking beneath him. The way his tongue moves against her is possessive and when she feels his tongue moving, in a very particular way that sure feels like his name, her eyes fall to him.

He's already looking up at her, and her hand falls from her mouth but it still hangs open. She’s his, he’s marking her from within, she’d feel him for days, she was convinced of it and the thought was a welcomed one.

Her mouth falls open and no noise comes from her but she spasms and shakes as his fingers pull from her before pushing back in and curving and hitting her g spot again and again, over and over.

“Fuck ross” she says, although her words are barely formed and end up sounding much more like nonsense. Her fingertips envelope his chin, thumb smoothing over his beard, coated in her wetness. It's a sinful sight, one which a cold shower or two would definitely not fix. Her mouth falls open further and her back arches again. His fingers hook one last time, mouth completely closing round her clit and she breaks. She shakes and he sees her through it, fingers held inside her, caressing the bundle of nerves within her, as he kitten licks at her clit, finally pushing fully against the whole of her as she cums.

“Ross” she moans, a quiet murmur of his name that might be his favourite yet. Accompanied by a shake of her body and the closing of her thighs.

Her hand is still holding his chin gently and when the sensation becomes too much she lightly tugs against it. He obeys, pulling from her and licking his lips clean. She watches as he brings his fingers to his mouth too, cleaning them off with a smirk. Her hand grips his chin. It's her new favourite site.

“You’re good at that” her head falls against the door and she sighs, smiling to herself “really fucking good” her hand slips from his chin. He chuckles at her, standing from her thighs, hand enclosing around her waist. He wanted to kiss her but wasn’t sure she’d like that. But then she's pulling him to her, lips finding his, tongue finding his. He tastes like her and she moans, it's erotic but he loves it.

Her fingertips find his chin again as she pulls back, looking at his beard which was still slightly glistening with her, she chuckles at the site.

“Made a bit of a mess” she laughs and he smiles.

“Good” he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers again, a brief kiss.

“Never gotten head from a guy with a beard before” she admits and he raises his eyebrows.

“Don't want to hear about your ex-boyfriends after I just made you come” he says and it has her raising her eyebrows too.

“Guess I won't tell you how shockingly bad they were in comparison then” she says, turning her head slightly, his lips find her jaw, pressing against it as he mumbles a “oh no… that I want to hear… tell me more”

His hips thrust into his hand once, twice more, before they're sputtering upwards. His cock twitches in his hand, ropes of cum hitting his stomach, he groans a loud, drawn out noise into his bawled up fist.

"Oh fuck…." He can't help but think how she'd take it if she was here, would she let him coat her chest? Would she beg for him to cum down her throat? He shakes the thoughts away, guilty grabbing handfuls of tissue and wiping himself clean.

"For God sake' he says, hastily removing the obscene amount of come from his stomach. He tucks himself back into his trousers, zipping them up, lifting the lid if the toilet and flushing the tissues. He washes his hands and takes in his reflection.

He shakes his head at himself "fuck off" he murmurs, talking to himself.

He shakes a hand through his hair, and splashes his face with water before he leaves the room, taking the paper, folding it up and placing it in his pocket. He sends a text to George explaining that he wasn't feeling too well and heads home.

Her hand drifts down his chest, but he encloses it before she gets the chance to touch him. Her eyes find his and she furrows her eyebrows.

"Your turn" she says and he smiles but shakes his head, placing a simple peck to her lips.

"That's not why I did that love… I wanted to please you" he explains.

"And you did, you really did" she smirks "now I want to return the favour" he pecks her mouth again after that.

"Another time I promise… we should get back" he says and she frowns. Did he not want her?

"Trust me love… I want to, I want you so badly, but if we're gone another minute I fear our little secret won't be so secretive anymore" he says, silencing her mind as if he could read it.

"Okay" she says and smiles at him. His fingertips envelope her chin lightly, bringing her lips to his for a sweet kiss, one which disabled her momentarily.

"Trust me love… I promise we will have another chance… I'd quite like to get between those pretty little thighs of yours again" he says, his voice dropping an octave. It makes her blush deeply.

"Okay" she says coyly, smiling a dopey smile up at him.

"Let's get back, yeah?" She nods at his words leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. He smiles into it and suddenly everything feels different between them but at the same time it's as if nothing has changed at all.

George is somehow none the wiser when they return to the studio, too buried in work to realise how much time had passed. She asks where Matty is and George shrugs explaining that he left a while ago but he wasn't sure where he went. George lifts his phone and sees the message his curly haired friend sent reading it aloud to the pair.

"Hope he's okay" Ross says and George nods, placing his phone down again.

"It's getting late, you should probably head home soon too" George says and both Ross and y/n nod.

"And you?" Yn asks and George smiles.

"I just want to finish this up and then I'll head… you guys go" George says with a smile. Yn smiles back and leans down to hug him and Ross' hand clasps around his before they're leaving.

It's dark outside the dark and a chill runs through her body but it's not long before Ross is wrapping an arm around her frame, warming her instantly.

"I'll walk you home if you like" the air around them feels different now, it's somehow both more comfortable and more exciting. She wants nothing more than to let him walk her home, invite him up to her room and let the night unfold. But Matty is on the forefront of her mind now and she's worried.

"I'd love that…" she hesitates and Ross frowns slightly at her, reading her facial expressions and somehow decoding what she's thinking. She half expects him to sigh, for him to step away from her frame, but her heart swells when he pulls her in tighter. She’s surprised once more at how he seemed to be able to read her mind.

"You want to check on Matty…" his voice trails off and she nods, unsure on what his reaction would be.

"Is that okay?" She asks, one hand gently holding his face. She feels the way his cheeks shift, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips until the crinkles that she loves form. He nods at her. He knows now that on some level, she was his, and he'd do anything to keep her.

"Yeah love, text me when you're home though yeah?" She nods. She watches as an idea seems to pop into his mind, his face lighting up and his smile spreading.

"We have a day off tomorrow…." we have the day off tomorrow, she liked the sound of that. In fact she loved it. They were a we now, or at least in some way.

"We do…." She smiles and he smiles back, just as wide.

"Let me take you on a date" he says.

"Hmm… what's in it for me?" She jokes.

"Oh absolutely nothing… I'm not worth the trouble really" he jokes back, stepping away from her briefly, as if to walk away. She’s quick to grab his arb and pull him back.

"Hey hey hey, where do you think you're going?" She asks, making him chuckle a short laugh.

"Yes I'd love to go on a date with you" she says through a giggle.

"We'll go on a date then…" he says.

"Good"

"Good" he confirms it with a brief kiss before pulling away, she watches as he scrunches his nose up, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does and his lips pursing.

"It's a date then squish" he says and she lightly shoves him, but before he goes too far both hands wrap around her small wrists and he tugs gently. She crashes into his hard chest with a little "oomph" and he looks down at her with a smirk and all thoughts and ideas of scolding him for it disappear.

"I'll make it worth your while" he says, his voice low, it makes her shiver. She blushes, her mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words. He chuckles, the kind of one that's just an exhale through his nostrils and his grip loosens around her wrists.

"Go check on Matthew, text me when you get home and I'll see you tomorrow, 10 work for you?" He asks and she nods.

"Sounds perfect" she watches as he looks both ways down the street and then back over his shoulder and up to the studio, before he turns back to her. No one was around, the street dark and empty. So he leans down and captures her lips in his, in a kiss that completely blows her mind. His soft ones against hers, tongue folding over hers, blissful sighs falling from her and soft groans from him. In those few moments, all that exists is him and them, the world slowing around them like something out of a romance novel.

He pulls back and all she can do is nod and she chases his lips with hers. It makes him laugh and she slowly opens her eyes to see him again.

"Wow… that was some kiss"

"You should go… see if Healy is okay" Ross says and she nods, leaning up for one last kiss.

'Dream about me' he says against her mouth, their lips momentarily separated and she nods before his move against hers again.

"As long as you dream about me…" she says, pulling back until their lips just graze.

"I have every day since I met you"

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