#am i a gif maker now lol

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

here’s part two!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me."  Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."  

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"  

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

[riordanness]

sweet nothing - [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: willy freaking wonka’s curls

requested: no

Something about this laundry place was giving me the creeps, but I’m sure if it’s the scary man who’d brought us here, the overly cheery lady with the awful teeth, or the much-too-convenient cheap as chips room.

Willy seems to be completely trusting in these people, though, and I trust him with anything, so I decide to just take it as it comes, and keep my eyes open for anything else strange.

We’re lead upstairs by Bleacher, with Mrs Scrubbit following from behind. She chatters the whole way up, bombarding us with information about the place and our room and how much impact this laundry business has had on the town itself.

Bleacher pushes open a door, and lets us pass. I step inside after Willy, and glance quickly around the simplistic room. It’s pretty, very white, and has little daisies on the wallpaper.

“There you two are,” Mrs Scrubbit says happily. I wonder to myself if her name, or Bleacher’s for that matter, are actually their real names, or if they just made them up for the glamour of it all. They are pretty catchy names.

“Thank you, Mrs Scrubbit,” I say, and Willy chimes in after me.

“Thank you both.”

Mrs Scrubbit, flustered, grins at us both and waves her hand in the air vigorously. “There’s a bar of soap and a washing cloth on the sink, and fresh linens in the cupboard over there.”

I give her a smile, and my worries from earlier are almost forgotten. This place truly is a miracle.

After they leave, and the door has closed, I realise how exhausted I am. I collapse onto the floor, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I let out a sigh. “Who knew one single day could be so busy, huh?”

I can hear Willy dropping his coat to the floor, and laughing quietly to himself. “Yes indeed, y/n.”

I open my eyes to the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and it is only then I notice the most obvious of facts. There is only one bed in this room.

Willy seems to realise this at the same moment I do. “Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” I echo.

There’s a heat beat of silence, then Willy quickly gets to his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

“What?” I’m almost annoyed. My best friend is my favourite person, and I love him dearly, but he is almost too kind sometimes. Kindness is a virtue, but in Willy, it often hurts himself in the process.

“You take the bed,” Willy repeats.

“Don't be ridiculous,” I say, still on the floor. “It’s a big enough bed for us both. I won’t have the best chocolate maker in the universe sleeping on this cold stone floor. It’s uncomfortable.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re literally sitting on the ground right now.”

I shrug. “Floor time is fun for me. Not for sleeping though. That would be kinda awful.”

Willy smiles softly. “Alright, bean. We can share.”

I have no idea why he calls me that, but I’ve long since given up on asking. He always just grins his wicked little smile and says something like, ‘I’ll tell you one day’.

I close my eyes again, and yawn. “I’m so tired, Will.”

“Don’t call me that.”

I laugh, and open my eyes again. “Sorry not sorry. Help me up.” I hold both my hands out to him.

Willy walks over, rolls his eyes at my antics, and pulls me to my feet.

“Come on,” he says softly, his fingers lingering near my unbrushed, unruly hair. “Let’s get you to bed, bean.”

“Okay,” I mumble, suddenly even sleepier. His quiet tone and gentle touch are pulling me even closer to the darkness of sleep. I let Willy pull off my jacket, and I slide out of my dress, leaving just my petticoat and undergarments on. I crawl under the covers, shimmying as close to the wall as I can to allow room for Willy.

He shrugs off his vest and shoes, switches off the light above us, and climbs in after me, lying as far away as possible on the other side of the bed. I understand the politeness in his gesture, but my tiredness is fogging my brain up, and I want him to be close.

“Willy?” I almost whine.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers.

“Can you hold me?” I mutter, my eyes shut tightly. I barely register his reply, but I do feel his strong arms as they tighten around my waist, and pull me close to him. Then, the darkness takes me.

I wake up slowly the next morning, my senses taking longer than usual to begin working. Smell is first. Chocolate and mint and rain. Then sound. The familiar sound of my best friend’s breathing. Then touch. Warm blankets, warm arms, my cheek pressed against a warm, moving, yet somewhat hard surface. Then, finally, sight.

My eyes clear, and I blink the sleep away, and I’m met with something extremely unexpected, but also very pleasant.

Willy’s sleeping face, only inches from my own, his dark curls spread across his forehead and the pillow we share. His arms are around me, holding me tightly even in his sleep. My head is resting on his chest, which is slowly rising and falling with his gentle breathing.

I myself try not to breathe, not daring to even move. I want nothing more than to extend this moment for as long as possible, maybe even forever.

Willy’s eyes flutter open, and their soft chocolate gaze lands on mine.

He smiles, and I’m almost certain it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

“Good morning, bean.”

“Hi,” I whisper. “You still owe me the reason behind that nickname.”

Willy smiles, his eyes flitting all over my face, as if he’s relishing the closeness between us as much as I am.

“Because,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “You are as important to me as a cocoa bean is to chocolate.”

I let that fact sink in. “Oh,” I manage, my chest filling with all the love I have for this boy beside me.

“What’s wrong?” Willy tilts his head down to look at me properly, concern filling his features.

“Nothing,” I answer. “I just… love you, Willy Wonka. I really love you.”

He smiles again, wider this time. “And I love you, my little cocoa bean.”

[mandalhoerian]

Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?

too good for me | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!

🌀 read on ao3!

“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 

You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 

It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?

He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 

He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  

“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.

Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”

“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”

You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 

“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”

“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”

“We don’t really need to—”

“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”

“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”

He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”

You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  

He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 

His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 

You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 

You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 

“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 

Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…

Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 

Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 

He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 

Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 

You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.

"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."

Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.

"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"

You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”

“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 

You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”

“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 

“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 

 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 

"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."

“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”

“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 

“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”

“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”

Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"

“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”

“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”

“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."

He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."

Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"

It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”

“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”

The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”

“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”

God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”

You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 

“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”

Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”

It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”

“Okay. Coffee date it is.”

He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”

“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”

There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself. 

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Established wrecker relationship with a newborn and lots of fluff and cuddles.

Bundle of Joy

Wrecker x Reader

Summary- Wrecker is scared he might hurt your newborn baby. You reassure him he won't, and that he is a good father.

A/N- Warning for descriptions of birth! Thank you for requesting! I love this prompt, Wrecker would be so careful with a tiny baby!

Word Count- 1,344

You weren't due for another week, you were supposed to be on Pabu for your delivery. With lots of midwives and doctors who had helped with past births. That just wasn't in the cards for you though.

Tech made an emergency landing on the closest inhabitable planet he could find. There was no time to get to Pabu, and it wasn't safe to jump into hyperspace while in labor.

You screamed loud, gripping the closest thing as tight as you could. Unlucky for Wrecker- it was his hand. You were insanely nervous, nothing was going according to plan. Wrecker was doing little to help, he was freaking out himself.

You took deep breaths the second your contraction was over. Wrecker swept hair out of your face and rubbed your arm, trying his best to keep you calm.

"We have landed." Tech called back, a green hue cast over the ship. Whatever planet you landed on was either abandoned or had a low population.

"I'm scared Wrecker." You breathed in again, "How am I going to have this baby on a shi-" You cut yourself off, screaming in pain as a new contraction hit.

You reached over, hitting Wrecker on the arm. "You are never touching me again, I cannot believe I married you!" You yelled at him. Pain clouded your thoughts.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" He worried, also frightened on what would happen. You were on an abandoned planet with no doctor!

Hunter and Omega also sat close by, getting everything you requested. Omega had refreshed a cold rag a dozen times now, and promptly placed Lula by your side.

Tech and Echo talked in the Cock-pit, you didn't know what about. Though it dulled the pain to think on what it was.

"What do you need?" Omega sweetly asks after you stop screaming.

"I need to know the plan." Inhale, exhale, "What's going to happen?"

"I do not know why everyone is freaking out. I am fully equipped to deliver a child." Tech chimes in, that must have been what they were talking about.

His words did bring you comfort, as your original plan involved Tech being there to make sure everything was going by the book.

"Get her on the floor, bring lots of pillows. We need her slightly elevated." Tech took over shortly after he made sure the ship was settled.

Hunter brought Omega outside after you started spewing insults and profanities to Wrecker. You were a completely different person when in pain.

Echo stayed on board to make sure Wrecker didn't do anything stupid, and to help Tech if needed.

About an hour later, screaming, hitting, and pushing- your baby girl was born.

"It's a girl."

You panted heavily, "Give her to me Tech, please." Tech immediately grabbed his knife and cut the front of your shirt open.

"Hey! Wha-" Wrecker was confused, only seeing Tech ripping your top off.

"Wrecker, it's so the baby can feel her skin." Echo informed, holding Wrecker back slightly.

Tech rested the child on your chest, then moved back down to cut the umbilical cord.

You gasped and gently held her to your chest. "Oh thank you Makers, thank you!" You had tears running down your face, slowly caressing your baby's cheek.

"Wrecker, come here. Some see your daughter." You waved him over, all of a sudden regretting your snide comments made earlier.

He joined your side quickly, resting his large palm on the top of your sweaty head. "She's perfect..."

He lowered his head, face only an inch from the baby's. "She looks just like you..."

You sniffled a laugh, "She looks like a potato right now, Wreck."

"No, look. She has your eyes." Just as he said that, she peaked an eye open, looking at her father for the first time.

"Sweet baby." You commented.

"Hey, i'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't know what I was saying." You apologized, not wanting Wrecker to think he was purposefully the cause of your pain.

"You did such a good job." He gave a loud chuckle, "I was more scared than you!"

You smiled at him.

"Have Wrecker hold the baby, you have to pass the placenta now." Tech pressed down on your stomach, moving the placenta down.

"Here, Wrecker." You slowly lifted her to him. His face dropped, he was terrified.

"It's okay, she's tiny but strong." You assured him.

"Uh, I don't know..." He breathed heavily.

Your face screwed in pain again, though not near as bad as before.

"Wrecker!"

"Okay, okay." He picked her up, as softly and carefully as a man his size could muster, He was shaking in fear he would hurt her. She was just so small.

Wrecker had a past of knocking over or accident breaking things, he was just so big. He forgot sometimes. He certainly did not forget now. He watched the child like a hawk.

It didn't take long before Tech finished helping you pass the placenta. Immediately after you were able to, Wrecker passed her back into your arms.

After a moment of silence and the four of you admiring the baby, Echo chimed in.

"Tech and I will give you some space." He guided the two of them outside of the ship, with Hunter and Omega.

"Wrecker, it's okay. She's fine." You looked up into the eyes of the man that had made you forever happy.

"What are we going to name her?" He said, effectively changing the conversation.

You huffed, but figured you could talk to him about holding her later. "What about Myla?" You asked.

"Perfect." He said, once again leaning down to get a good look at her. He held his finger out, tickling the baby's foot.

A few minutes later, you sent Wrecker to get everyone. You knew Omega would be beaming to see the baby.

"What is it, what is it! Tech wouldn't tell!" She practically bounced in, but slowed down when she came to your side.

"Meet Myla, your niece."

"She's so beautiful." She said, leaning on her arm while admiring the baby.

Wrecker smiled at the scene.

It had been an uneventful flight home, you were in overprotective mode. Even though you trusted everyone on the ship with your life, you didn't let anyone else hold Myla. She slept the whole way back.

You and Wrecker decided to settle down in your home on Pabu that was pre-prepared for this day. Many of the Pabu citizens already knew of the birth, but gave you your space.

You sat up in your bed, Myla cradled in your arms. She quickly fell asleep after being fed. Wrecker joined you, being overly careful in getting under the sheets.

"Do you want to hold her?" You asked, looking at him sit up next to you.

"Oh uh, I don't want to wake her. Probably best if you just hold her." You sighed at this. Your hormones were still wack, and you teared up at his answer.

"What's wrong, what'd I do?" He softly asked, a hand coming to your arm.

You sniffled, taking a few breathes before speaking "Why won't you hold her?"

"I don't want to hurt Myla." He said, nervous for your response.

You blinked, readjusting Myla in your arms. "Wrecker, I promise you will be okay. She is tough, just like her daddy."

He looked at her, still unsure. "Look, just take her. if anything happens i'm right here."

You raised your arms, handing her over. She 'cooed' but stayed asleep.

"See, she knows you're her dad." You rubbed your face on his arm, wrapping your arms around him. He was tense, caught up in the feeling of holding her.

"Move your arm up a little." You guided him, but it soon felt natural for him.

A deep breath left him lips. He was finally comfortable.

"Not so bad huh?"

With a swallow he answered, "The two most perfect girls in the world."

You nuzzled further into his side, trusting his hold on Myla.

"Thank you for giving me this..."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[lukehughescurls]

8 AM

Felt soft today, so I wrote soft summer Jack Hughes

Jack Hughes x reader

I was rudely awoken by the sound of someone mowing their yard, groaning, I squish my face into my pillow before reaching over to wake Jack up. “Jack, go close the window,” I grunt out, but all I get is silence in response, peeking up from my pillow I squint over at his side of the bed and find it empty. Scrunching my face in confusion, truly awake at this point, I reach over to pull my phone off of the charger before checking the time. It’s 8 am. Why isn’t Jack in bed at 8 am? Groaning once again, I drag my body up and head into the bathroom to take care of my morning routine without Jack interrupting me like he typically does. When I’m done I open the door of our shared bedroom and smell the intoxicating scent of coffee. Sighing I head down the stairs of the Hughes family lakehouse for my true love, and to see my boyfriend Jack. Turning the corner and walking into the kitchen I see Jack standing in front of the coffee maker which makes me smile. I shuffle over to him and I wrap my arms around him so I press my face into his toned back. “Good morning baby, how did you sleep?” Jack’s gravely morning voice held no alarm because he immediately knew my touch. Sighing again I respond, “it was rudely awoken by the neighbor mowing his yard at this fine hour,” Jack chuckles at that before turning in my hold and wrapping his arms around my frame. Kissing the top of my head, he reaches back and holds out the mug of steaming coffee to me. Taking a large sip I let out a pleased moan at the familiar taste of my morning brew, “ugh you know me so well,” Jack just hums and smiles before pulling me back into his chest and swaying softly. 

Suddenly footsteps start to pound down the stairs and a wheezing laugh I know all too well rings in the air. Trevor. “Aw Cole, look at them, so soft and sweet this morning” rolling my eyes I turned to look at my mortal enemy and Cole. “Morning Cole,” I respond purposely ignoring Trevor who’s already bouncing off the walls at 8:15 in the morning. I don’t even listen as Trevor starts to yap at Jack about what we should all do today. Noticing my zoning out Jack starts to pull me away from the kitchen and outside to the backyard. Trevor notices and tries to follow us but Cole holds him back and effectively distracts him. 

When we finally escape the clutches of Trevor, Jack and I head out to sit and look at the gorgeous view of the lake in the morning. Jack sits down and before I can blink pulls me down onto his lap, careful to make sure my coffee doesn’t spill everywhere. Snuggling into him I turn to stare at him. He truly is gorgeous with his bright blue eyes, button nose, and pouty lips. Catching my stare, he gives me his soft smile that I know is reserved for me before saying “caught you staring gorgeous.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach and a blush breaks out on my cheeks, which makes Jack smile even more. “Can’t help it, I just love looking at you,” his smile is now a full blown grin due to my candor. Leaning down Jack kisses me all soft and sweet. Perfect kiss for this perfect morning.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff. 

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand. 

“Me too,” you said.

________

[aestas666]

The Interview [K. Hammett]

pairings: kirk hammett/female! reader

warning/s: smut, inappropriate language. MINORS DNI

-request via message of the reader interviewing kirk! (REQUESTS OPEN)

5:00 AM

That’s what the clock read as I blinked my eyes groggily. My body was still numb from sleep. The hours rushed by so fast it was as if I never slept.

“God, I have an interview.”  I thought as I rose from the soft duvet and headed toward the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I glanced at my apartment windows noticing the still dark sky. As the coffee maker softly hummed in the background, I pulled out my papers to look back into the history of the band I would interview later on.

METALLICA

That’s what was written as the headliner of the article I was reading in huge bold text.

Hopping into the shower I was rehearsing my questions, I had none prepared. That was the point of our brand. We intend to make things come up naturally and we invest on making sure we knew who we were talking to flat out.

“Should I look up a photo of them?” ... Shaking my head, I thought an element of surprise would be good.

After the shower I hurriedly rushed to my closet. “Should I dress in black? I mean- they’re a metal band. Am I supposed to look the part?” All these questions rushed in. I really should have prepared more the day before. I pulled out some black button long sleeves and some denim shorts with a black studded belt.

Downing the coffee in one go, I grabbed the keys of my car and rushed to the venue. It was in some room of the arena they were performing in. Call time was at 7:00 and it’s already 6:48.

Parking was easy, the lot was huge. I found myself running to the arena and into a hallway. Stopping at a door with 1507 written at the front.

I took a deep breath in and entered. The crew was in already. 2 guys named Michael and Jim. 

As soon as I walked in Jim (the cameraman) hit record. 

Only one guy was sitting on the chair, I looked back at Michael in confusion as he just nodded at me to go on. 

“Oh, um hi-” I extended my hand over the table as I took a seat down in front of him.

“Kirk. Kirk Hammett. Yeah, it’s just me, the guys are still sleeping.” He laughed softly as he shook my hand.

“Yeah sure, that’ll be fine. We could start the one-on-one interview now if you’d like?”

“Oh for sure yeah, you guys are the Ride or Die people, right? How does this work?” He looked at me with intent as I waved off Jim to stop filming.

“Yup that’s us. Basically, we ask general questions. Some fan questions that could get a liiitle too personal can come up and you have to answer honestly. That’s our whole gig.” He nodded, his mouth making a small “o”. 

“This’ll be interesting for sure. Never expected a cute girl from a name like Ride or Die actually.” His comment made me heat up; I mean. This man was gorgeous, he had such nice curls and an adorable smile. There was so much I wanted to-

“Hey. Are we starting?” Jim interrupted my thoughts as Kirk looked back at me, amused.

“Ah yeah- sorry. Start rolling.” He hit the record button as I once again extended my hand to the guitarist.

“(Y/N)”

“Pretty name, I’m uh. Kirk.” He grinned at the camera almost awkwardly.

“Renowned guitarist of Metallica. Wow it truly is an honor. How are you doing today, Kirk?”

“Haven’t had breakfast, the boys are sleeping, it’s 7:00 AM. I’m pretty good.” We both shared a laugh as we finished up some questions on the album, the band’s touring and his thoughts on the city.

“Now for the fun part. Fan questions. I’ve gathered some questions they are dying to know.” I enunciated the ‘dying’, watching him suddenly turn to stifle a small laugh.

“I’m kinda scared to be honest. They could get a little crazy.”

“You’ll be fine! This one is from Kacey, and she wants to know what your type in groupies are.” I cocked a brow at his furrowed ones.

“Wow. This one’ll need some deep thought.” He looked up as if he was reflecting. 

“Probably someone like her.” He nodded at me as I held my chest in pretend shock.

“I look like a groupie?” 

“You’d look good as one.” It was Michael's turn to chuckle as the camera whipped to him and I shot him a look.

“Who was the last person you had in bed?” I continued.

“Jesus. At least get me some breakfast first, wow.” He rubbed his face in embarrassment as he went on “Come with me and it could be you.” 

“God I would.” 

“What was that?” He shot me a look as if in shock.

“Huh?”

“You said you would. You’ve got some honesty there Ms. Interviewer.” He leaned in my direction as I mouthed a “cut that out” to Michael, who just rolled his eyes at me.

“This is the last question.” I stated as he clasped his hands together, awaiting.

“What place do you want to visit most?”

“Back to serious ones huh. Hawaii. It just looks so relaxing y’know.” 

“Well. Thanks Kirk. That’s all.” I glanced back at the 2 men who hurriedly sorted their gear back into place.

“Yeah, the rest of the band probably isn’t going to wake up any sooner.” Kirk called out to me as I rose from my seat to leave.

“Ah yeah that’s fine. I could come back some other time.” I put the notes I had back in my bag.

“I was serious by the way. I think you’re gorgeous.” My heart was suddenly pounding, I looked back to see both Jim and Michael gone. 

“Thanks, Kirk. You look goo..d” I mentally face palmed. I was dead nervous, and it was more than obvious.

“I don’t bite (Y/N). Come here.” He rose from the seat and approached me. He was taller, by some inches. He smelled like tobacco and a few hints of spearmint. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” I backed up toward a couch just at the end of the room.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you. Sit down.” He motioned toward the couch as he knelt on the ground. 

“Tell me. Do you want this?” 

Only a sicko wouldn’t want this. He was knelt before me and I just wanted to scream. “Yes please.” He grabbed my calves from the bottom as he softly trailed them on top of my knees. “Remove your shorts.” Quickly removing my belt, I looked away in embarrassment, I was still wearing my underwear and I was already flustered. Christ. “Pink panties? Thanks for dressing up for the interview I guess.” Kirk grinned, his fingers clasping at both sides and dragging the underwear down.

“Hey. I could stop anytime.” His brown eyes bore into mine as I shook my head with a clear no.

His rough hands caressed my thighs, opening my legs further. “You’re so wet already.” He dragged a finger down my slit and back up. Resting a hand on my stomach he licked a stripe and gave a coy smile at my flustered face. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice was almost a whisper as the pounding in my ears increased. 

He stood up and leaned toward me to give a kiss, his lips were soft and wet and strangely tasted like mint. Grabbing my waist, he sat next to me and pulled me up to his lap as he continued to feather my neck with small kisses. 

I lifted my hips as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, he raised his hand to gather the slick from my cunt and pumped himself, his breath hitching.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.” I breathed out as he gently placed both his hands on my hips and lowered my body to his tip. “Fuck.” He moaned out, stretching me as I whined at the foreign feeling. My eyes squeezed shut while he whispered reassuring words, dragging his other hand on the back of my head and pulling me closer. 

“It’s alright sweet girl, move when you’re ready.”

I rested my head on his shoulder as I raised my hips up slightly and started moving at a slow pace. Gaining the courage as I got used to the pressure, he met my bounces with a hard thrust each time. I moved my head up to look at him. His hair stuck at the sweat of his forehead and his blown eyes focused on his cock pounding my cunt. 

He flipped me over and was now on top, still pounding, chasing his high. My legs were over his arms now as I gasped at the new position. Placing his thumb on my clit, he rubbed small circles, his jaw slack. My eyebrows furrow as I feel my orgasm rushing. “C’mon, baby.” He leaned to kiss me again, suppressing my soft moans. 

“Fuck, Kirk. I’m close.” My eyes started to tear up as his pace quickened. He’s hitting my sweet spot over and over as I choked a moan and felt my body tense and slacken at my release. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good. I’m close, baby.” He rambled as he rammed into me, and I felt him fill me up after his thrusts.

He pulled out as I swallowed at the feeling of loss. He knelt in front of me between my legs and laid his head on my stomach, breathless.

“Wanna interview me again sometime?” He looked up with the same cheeky grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

[bullet-prooflove]

The Circuit: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow

You are the only woman that Travis has eyes for. He makes that abundantly clear during his most recent rodeo circuit. He’s a rockstar at these things, pulling in accolades, showcasing his best horses, it’s the reason John Dutton brought him on board. Travis is a money maker and the Duttons want in.

Unfortunately all of this brings the buckle bunnies.

Travis has been around the block with a few of them. He has a reputation, you know that and so does he, he’s been working hard to rid himself of it over the past year but it sticks like mud. He’s hopes news has gotten around that he has a girl but belt bunnies, they’re bold.

“I’m with someone.” He tells Lanelle when she tries to climb into his lap.

She’s a blond firecracker from Georgia with measurements that belong in a Playboy Magazine. The two of them have tussled a few times, she always seeks him out at events like this.

“But she ain’t here Sugar.” She says in that sweet Southern tone of hers as she rearranges her top to highlight her assets. “But I am.”

“Not my thing anymore.” He tells her, his voice tinged with disinterest and she pours her beer right into his lap. He has to say he half expected it. Lanelle doesn’t like not getting what she wants, in the past he appreciated that feistiness, now…

It’s gotten old.

She spends the rest of the night, writhing on the knee of some young gun coming up on the Bronco circuit and Travis could not give less of a fuck.

He slips away early, disappearing from the bar and heading towards his trailer. He usually goes to the break of dawn at these things before climbing back on his horse and winning his next bout but the truth is he’s getting tired.

The doctor tells him he has a good few years left in him if he takes care of himself, cuts down on the booze. Too much partying is starting to catch up with him, his liver isn’t functioning the way it should do.

You’re the only one he’s told about that, you and his Mama. His doctor says if he doesn’t slow down, he’ll be looking for a new liver in the next five years. Before you that wouldn’t have deterred him. He lived hard, he played hard, he would have died on that hill. But then you’d come into his life, a vision in a white cowboy hat and worn out plaid and he  realised he wanted to stick around as long as possible.

He’s never through of himself as an alcoholic, he’s always been a good time guy but the damage adds up and now he’s careful about what he drinks, what he eats because he know he doesn’t have a hope on the transplant list. Even if he did have the surgery it would put him out of action for over six months and he can’t imagine going that long without riding.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed when he calls you. He’s been missing you more and more lately, your smile, your laugh, the press of your soft body against his as you lie tangled up together. You’ve been together almost two years now and it’s getting harder to leave.

“I saw you on TV.” You say when you pick up the phone. “You looked good.”

“Yea.” He says pinching his brow to ward off the headache that’s starting to gnaw at his temples. “We made some real money today.”

“You sound tired.” You say softly and it still amazes him how attuned you are to him even over this distance.

“I’m missing you a little.” He admits as he lies back on the mattress, his gaze coming to rest on the ceiling. “Actually, I’m missing you a lot.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[riordanness]

lover — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1K

warnings: none

requested: yes!! anon <3

You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?

You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.

“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.

She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”

I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.

“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.

I frown at the question. “I am older.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”

“Why not? That’s totally likely.”

I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”

She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.

Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.

It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.

Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.

Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.

Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.

“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.

“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”

“Someday, yeah.”

Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”

My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”

“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.

I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”

At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.

“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.

I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”

Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”

I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”

I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.

“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”

She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.

I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.

Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”

Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.

“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”

He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”

“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.

Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.

“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.

I glance at him. “Yeah?”

He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”

I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”

He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”

I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.

“Me too, you know.”

It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.

I stare at him. “You… you, what?”

He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.

[deejadabbles]

My ding-ding-dong (Fives x Reader) Humor

Summary: after a bad week at work, your boyfriend just wants to make you breathless.

Rating: T+

A.N: Everyone please go read A Question of Seman-dicks by @dystopicjumpsuit it's hilarious and reading it this morning got me into writing gear to pop this insanity out! @freesia-writes I'm determined to help you make this kind of fic a thing 😂

Word Count: 962

Songs to ~set the mood~ Ding Dong Song by Gunther and Bad Touch by bloodhound gang

Warnings: crude humor, cursing, Fives being Fives, suggestive situations

“I swear to the maker, one of these days!”

Fives watched as you cleaned up the kitchen, putting dishes away in the most aggressive manner he had ever seen as you vented about your week. He wanted to reach out and rub your back in comfort, but the way you slammed the cabinet shut made him think better of it.

“And I know why he’s decided to start drama with me,” you continued, grabbing the knife you had used to cut up dinner, “it’s because I stood up to him, because I didn’t take his condescending, mansplaining, bantha-shit attitude and put him in his place when he tried it on me.” Despite being nowhere in striking distance, Fives still took a step back when you kept the knife in hand as you raged. “So now he’s determined to make me look bad- well game on, bitch! He hasn’t even seen my ugly side yet!”

Fives half expected you to impale the knife into the counter like a declaration of war, but thankfully, you just tossed it in the knife drawer and slammed it shut. Finally, when you ran your hands over your tired face, he closed the distance between you and put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, babe, he’s a shithead and doesn’t deserve you as a coworker.”

Warmth filled his chest when you leaned into him, melting at his touch as you blinked up to meet his eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” you let out a defeated sigh, “your shore leave just started and here I am whining about work when I should be focused on you.”

He kissed the top of your head, “Stop that, mesh’la, you needed to vent, you were under a lot of stress this week. I would have held you sooner, but figured it was best to wait til you weren’t armed with serrated kitchenware.”

That made you chuckle a little and the warmth in his chest grew. He wanted to hear a proper laugh from you, a real one that might melt your troubles away.

Oh, that could work. He could practically see the light bulb that went off over his own head as an idea came.

“Hey,” he mumbled as he kept kissing the top of your head, “want me to make you forget your shitty week?”

You turned in his arms, an interested, knowing smirk on your pretty mouth, “Oh, I’d love that, handsome.”

Making sure to put on his best smolder, he took your hand and guided you across your apartment until you got to the bedroom. “Just lay back, beautiful, I’m going to make you howl,” he said, choosing his words very carefully.

The way you raised a brow just a little said you caught it, but you sat on the bed all the same. He followed, pecking your lips as he gently pressed your back to the mattress.

"I'm gonna make you feel soooo good, sweetheart," he said running his hands up your sides in a way that had you biting your lip.

He couldn't wait to have you gasping from the words his mind was thinking up. Just a little more teasing to set the mood...

Fives trailed his mouth down your neck, then back up to your ear, nipping it before he whispered, “Are you ready?”

“Yes-”

“Ready for my trouser snake?”

You choked instantly.

“Wut?”

Fives leaned back, smile bright as he rolled his hips dramatically, “Come on, baby, my man meat is right here.”

That’s when the nervous chuckles started, “ ‘Man meat?! What are you-?”

“My love sausage is ready to serve.”

“Oh my god!”

He rubbed his thighs in a mock of a seductive pose, “You know my little soldier is standing at attention for you!”

That’s the one that had you busting out in a full laugh, double funny considering there was nothing ‘little’ about Fives.

“You can ride my disco stick aaaalllll night!”

Your hand flew up to cover your face as the laughter became more ragged, the other hand holding your side. Oh, Fives wasn’t done yet, not even close!

He started fumbling with his belt in exaggerated movements, “Let me just unleash my custard launcher.”

“Custard- Fives STOOOOP!” it came out a wheeze, and he saw some tears of joy collecting in the corner of your eyes.

“What?” he leaned over you again caging you with his arms as he looked you over, “I thought you loved my massive king kong dong!”

You couldn’t form words anymore, just slapping weakly at his chest as you tried to draw breath into your lungs between strained laughter. Now to move in for the kill.

“My tallywacker,” he leaned in closer, dropping his voice, “my wiener,” then lips to your ear and in his most seductive tone, “my ding-a-ling.”

When you shoved at him, Fives pulled back, smiling at his handy work as you rolled over, clutching your sides and trying to breathe through the delighted wheezing. Well, you certainly weren’t thinking about work now, and Fives thought a smug ‘mission accomplished’ to himself as the fit continued.

He watched as your breathing started to even out, a few happy tears wetting your cheeks, smile bright, eyes alight.

“Damn, you’re beautiful when you laugh,” he said and this time, his tone was completely genuine.

Now that you could finally form coherent thoughts again, you rolled onto your back again and grinned at him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I have a man who makes me laugh.”

He couldn’t help it, he dove in and kissed you, long and deep this time, loving, doting. Kriff, he adored you.

“Thank you,” a content whisper against his lips, “you always make me feel better.”

“Can’t be a perfect boyfriend without skills like that,” he hummed, then, “now, are you ready to get breathless for a whole different reason?”

You threw your arms around him giggling as you pulled him in for another kiss, “Please.”

.

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

[scarredwithcruelintentions]

chapter 2: the hunted

Find the masterlist here!

W/C: 2,327

A/N: Have a chapter in honor of my new computer!

Astarion spent the next morning as he always did, sitting just outside his tent with a book in hand. Most of the camp was up and milling about, starting their days by breaking their fasts and groggily wishing each other ‘good morning’s. He made sure to stay away from it all, as usual, but watched the proceedings with a keen eye and a great sense of unease. His attention kept flitting back and forth between the ever growing gaggle of his awakened traveling companions and your darkened tent.

He felt a sense of dread inch its fingers up his spine, cold and unyielding, the more time passed without your lively and authoritative presence to command the group of companions. The sun’s reach expanded well over the horizon now, and it was so very unlike you to have a lie in, no matter the circumstances.

Oh gods, did I go too far last night? What if I killed her?!

Just as he prepared himself to go check on you, lest he find you dead at his hand, you popped your head out of your tent. You raised an arm against the onslaught of daylight and blinked blearily, running a hand down your face to dash the sleep from your eyes. Astarion sighed audibly in relief, until your now-focused gaze found him. Dread’s icy grip once again clutched at him, stealing his breath anew.

This is it. This is where I’ll be tossed.

You made a beeline for him, taking care to avoid drawing the attention of the other companions. Astarion slipped into his familiar guise of nonchalance, preparing himself for his inevitable departure. He made to stand when you stopped a few feet from him.

“Good morning,” he began with a coy smile, “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, if a bit woozy,” you waved noncommittally. “And you? How do you feel?”

Astarion’s false confidence crumbled in an instant, blanching at your question.

“How… how do I feel? My dear, I’m not the one that had a leech to their throat last night!”

“That’s rather beside the point, leech,” you giggled. “Now, do you plan on answering me? Or are you simply going to stand there agape like a dead fish?”

“I suppose I feel… well. Superb, even!” he giggled back. 

“Wonderful! Any idea how long this will last?” you pointed to your head, no doubt referencing the foggy sensation clouding your thoughts.

“It’ll pass,” he flicked his hand dismissively. “Just be grateful I’m not a ‘true’ vampire. A bite from them and you might wake up as a vampire spawn, like my good self,” he leaned forward, voice hushed, “All of a vampire’s hunger, but few of their powers.”

He heaved a dejected sigh at the reminder.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile toying at your lips, “Oh? Any other drawbacks I should be aware of?”

“That’s the odd thing: standing in the sun, wading through rivers, wandering into homes without an invitation - they’re all perfectly mundane activities now, things I never could have done before the tadpole. Seems someone, or something, has changed the rules. If only Cazador were here so I might laugh in his face before I rip it off,” he laughed heartily - then abruptly cut himself short, a shard of terror lancing through his thoughts at having revealed too much.

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow, studying him, but did not press.

“Nonetheless, it’s a stroke of good fortune to have a vampire on our side. I meant what I said, I am excited to see you fight,” you intoned softly, dropping your arms.

“Oh yes, and now I can fight with all my weapons,” he responded with a devious smirk, fangs glinting in the bright morning sun. “If I drain a bandit dry every now and again, it isn’t as if they weren’t destined to meet their maker anyway.”

You laughed, loud and full, at his witty remark. He was surprised to find that it stirred a delightful warmth in his chest, a feeling unfamiliar to him.

“I’m just glad you’re being sensible about these… revelations. I was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks,” he began with a smile, though it was rapidly erased as he noticed the other companions wandering into earshot with a mixed array of expressions. 

“Although, there’s still time,” he nodded over your shoulder gravely. He watched intently as your expression hardened and you turned to face the horde.

“A vampire among us? So be it. But should I wake with so much as a drop of blood on my neck, I will end him,” Lae’zel snarled.

“I’d just better not wake in the night to find fangs at my throat,” Shadowheart scoffed with disdain.

“Of course we’re traveling with a vampire,” Gale threw his hands up in exasperation, then pointed at him menacingly, “A word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful!”

You looked at him over your shoulder, and whatever you saw on his face steeled your resolve.

“I trust him,” you said, voice hardened and posture defensive. “Besides, like it or not, we need him. And there’s no need to worry about the safety of your necks. He’s got mine.”

You turned your head and bared his bite mark to your companions. A round of hushed murmurs and surprised faces met your bold confession to his feeding. If he could blush, he would be red from the tips of his ears to his toes in mortification at what your words implied.

“Well, now that’s settled, we should be getting on our way. Karlach, Astarion, Shadowheart, you’re with me. We’re to find the witch, Ethel, today,” you finished with a nod, effectively dismissing the group.

Astarion continued to stare at the back of your head in shock, and you turned to face him again, an inquisitive look adorning the fine features of your face once more.

“I…” he began, but petered out, unsure of what to say.

You snorted and turned to stride back towards your tent, presumably to stock your bag for the day.

He reached out to stop you instinctively and grabbed at your shoulder. You flinched uncharacteristically and froze on the spot, and he ripped his hand away as though scalded.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he mumbled as you turned toward him again. The look you regarded him with was far icier than before, the lingering warning of a threat still causing your pulse to flutter.

“S’fine,” you mutter. “Out with it.”

“I… just wanted to thank you. Again,” he finished lamely, waving his hands awkwardly at his sides.

“Don’t mention it,” you said gruffly, then finally strode away to your tent and began donning your armor.

Puzzled by your reaction, he watched you pack for a few moments too long. ______________________________________________________________

“It’s so unpleasantly muggy in these parts, and there are so many bloody bugs,” he whined, swatting at the air around him.

“Does the big, bad, bitey monster fear a taste of his own medicine?” Shadowheart mocked, deepening his scowl.

“Don’t worry, Astarion. They won’t bite you; you’re dead, remember?” you quipped with a cheeky grin.

Just as a retort reached his lips, you stopped dead in your tracks and raised an arm - a signal to await your command.

“What is it?” he whispered apprehensively.

You hushed him, scanning the sunny fields of wildflowers surrounding the group.

“Illusion magic. This isn’t real,” you murmured. As if triggered by your words, the grassy knolls give way to reveal a bog, fetid with the stench of death and decay.

“Oh lovely!” he chirped sarcastically, “I always did want to rot in a bog!”

You shot a glare at him and signaled the group to continue onward. The change in landscape was drastic; where once there were flowers, now fungi resided, drawing sustenance from the mossy trunks of felled trees. The sunlight had vanished into humid gloom, and the sheep that had been quietly grazing were revealed as redcaps, feasting on the corpses of their victims.

Karlach’s eyes almost bugged out of her skull, raising her greataxe in preparation for a fight.

“Ignore them,” you waved at her. “They think we still see sheep.”

She nodded gravely.

The group continued through the putrid haze of the bog, avoiding the redcaps and picking through half-rotted remains for loot, when they happened upon a man fletching crossbow bolts. Astarion smelled him before he saw him, and a flare of panic shot through him.

The Gur.

He watched you wrinkle your nose as you called out in greeting.

“Ah, stranger!” the man called back, noticing your sour expression. “Forgive the aroma. Powdered iron-vine, an old hunter’s trick. Most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.”

Against his better judgment, Astarion piped up, “You’re a monster hunter? I’m surprised - I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats.” 

He sneered at the man in front of him, no doubt an errand boy for Cazador, meant to drag him back for judgment at his master’s mercy. What were the odds, a lone Gur hunter this far from Baldur’s Gate? It was surely a message meant for him alone.

“Pardon, but who - or what - is a Gur?” you interjected, posture defensive and coiled to spring.

“A mystical and dangerous people who travel the land, never settling in one place,” the man flourished with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “We steal your chickens, curse your crops, seduce your daughters… your friend here has heard it all, I’m sure,” he gestured at Astarion.

Astarion fought the urge to bare his fangs.

“I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas, I am a simple wanderer,” the man dismissed, “A simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I am no witch doctor or cutthroat.”

“So what monster are you hunting, then?” you bit back.

It was as though Astarion couldn’t help but draw the attention back to himself despite all of the warning bells ringing in his ears, his nerves causing him to prattle on.

“Something terrifying, no doubt! Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?”

“Nothing so dramatic,” the man scoffed, “I’m hunting for a vampire spawn.”

Astarion felt his face fall in panic and caught your subtle glance in his peripheral vision.

I knew it! Just when things were beginning to look up…

“His name is Astarion, but I think he’s gone to ground. I was hoping the hag of these lands could help me flush him out, if I can afford her blood price.”

“And when you find this ‘Astarion’? You’ll, what, kill him?” you asked, subtly lowering your stance in preparation for a fight.

“Not this time. My orders are to capture him,” the man replied, eyeing you more warily by the moment.

“Oh, and bring him where, exactly?” Astarion questioned, trying his best to keep the fear from lacing into his words.

“Baldur’s Gate. My people wait for me there.”

“A vampire spawn doesn’t seem worth the hunt. It’s not like he’s a real vampire,” you added, trying to wheedle more information from the Gur hunter.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your throat if he felt like it,” Astarion snarled, unable to help himself at the slight.

Shut up! You’re going to give yourself away!

Astarion’s fingers twitched, longing to feel the familiar weight of his dagger in hand. His mind was racing, addled with the lingering sensations of dread and rage like so many unwanted hands clawing at him, his skin crawled with it.

The man, taking no apparent notice, continued talking to you.

“He is right, unfortunately. They are only weak when compared to their masters. During the day, we have the advantage! But at night, when they hunt? You will not find a more deadly quarry,” he finished, expression carrying a grave countenance.

Astarion caught your gaze, clearly calculating your next move. Whatever you saw in his face - fear, loathing, fury, he knew not what - made your mind up.

“Interesting, indeed,” you said, holding his eye. “Astarion, what do you think?”

“What? No, it isn’t possible! It’s daylight!” the man exclaimed, looking between you and Astarion.

Astarion ignored the bewildered hunter, a vicious, fanged smile contorting his face as he pulled his dagger.

“I think the hunter has become the hunted,” he growled, and then lunged at the Gur, plunging his dagger hard into the man’s throat.

Karlach gave a great shout of indignation, and Shadowheart gasped in surprise. You, however, did nothing more than cross your arms over your chest, mouth set in a grim line.

With no reaction time to reach for his crossbow, the man stumbled back, pawing weakly at the blade protruding from his neck. A bright scarlet stain spread across the front of his worn doublet, and with a final anguished gurgle, he collapsed into the muck.

“What in the Nine Hells did you do that for!” Karlach screeched at him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words that came were not his.

“He was a threat to our own. He had to be neutralized.”

Astarion looked up at you shrewdly, scrutinizing you for any deception, but found none. Neither did he find any betrayal of disgust or fear in your expression, only wry determination to protect your companions above all else.

“The deed’s done,” you said with an air of finality, looking down at Astarion crouched by the body of the fallen hunter wiping his dagger clean. “On we get to find Ethel, no doubt the hag the hunter spoke of.”

The rest of the group grumbled their assent and started moving, but Astarion was held firmly in place by the look in your eyes. A new kind of anxiety gnawed in the pit of his stomach.

He could read the many questions held in that one look, and he knew the time had come for further explanation once you regrouped at camp later that night.

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

౨ৎ ⁺ . Manifesting Rant.ᐟ 🎀🧁

⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ ; first i wanna say i am not targeting this towards one particular person & im not hating on a specific person or group!!

this is just things people in the manifesting community do that i find very weird (ie: loa,subliminals,shifting etc)

No.1 ꒱ 🎀 ! ; Sub-Makers and Toxic Affirmations

omg i while ago i seen the sub makers community post talking about hoe they’re gonna put affirmations in their beauty subliminal to the user make others jealous and hate themselves

uhm what the hell?? that’s honestly so weird and the fact that them and they’re subscribers are sitting laughing at the shit?? like that is honestly so weird and demented get help!

No.2 ꒱ 🧁 ! ; Ruining peoples lives through LOA

this is honestly so fucking weird of people too do especially like over a boy its so unnecessary and its not gonna get you any cool points either it’s weird & hateful and you need to get some help literally just create a new man you don’t have to go out of your way to harm someone

No.3 ꒱ 🐬 ! ; Self-Sabotage in Shifting

i honestly hate seeing people on shiftok say things like “shifting is hard” “only affirming once the going too sleep😝” that is honestly why your not shifting, shifting really isn’t that hard

set intention > method > affirm > persistence in affirming > SHIFTED!! 🌟

please stop setting your self up for failure!!!

No.4 ꒱ 👙 ! ; Sub-Makers and wanting too look European or east asian

i get so sad when i see poc sub users using subliminals to erase their ethnic features like anyone is allowed to live their life as they see fit but damn i really wish some if them would realize they don’t need pin straight hair,light skin,ski slope noses etc. too look beautiful (and it ties into texturism,colorism and its just a mess)

and now they’re certain sub makers that take these gorgeous female celebrities and put filters on them to make them “more beautiful” and they only just end up looking european like thats NOT jessica alba 💀

No.5 ꒱ 🍦 ! ; Sub-Makers and Getting T-worded

okay i feel for you getting ur account terminated but it gets too a point where you have to realize your the problem!

they purposely post stuff like h€ntai,soft p*rn,naked women,th1nsp0 and p@nt!es and they get terminated for it they make another acc and DO THE SAME THING and expect nothing to happen?? like youtube isn’t against sub-makers y’all are just not taking accountability like omg stop saying “snaketube” when you know the stuff your posting is against the guidelines ! REFLECT

[magicalqueennightmare]

New Orleans

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Your first day in New Orleans you quite literally run into a certain blonde who decides she wants to be friends. Who are you to argue?

How exactly had you decided on New Orleans again? Oh yeah, a new start. You needed it after the last few years. Maybe you could even find a legit job to help pass time between hunts.

You had the address of one of Garth's contacts that was willing to rent you a furnished apartment just outside the french quarter, no questions asked as long as she got her rent every month. You knew you'd need basics like bedding, towels and such so you decided to check in there first to get your keys and a full list of what you'd need then go shopping.

You were juggling a few bags, holding everything from sheets to a single serve coffee maker. You were already regretting moving somewhere that it made more sense to walk than to drive because the trunk of your nova would certainly come in handy. You needed to stop and grab something to eat considering you hadn't eaten since the diner you'd stopped at the night before.

You picked a cafe that looked interesting enough and had a small enough line. You ordered a simple sandwich and lemonade and had intentions of heading out to the patio to eat but when you pushed the door open to head out you ran full bodily into a blonde woman. “Oh crap! I am so sorry!” You reached out to try to steady her but she had a slight smile on her face “No harm done” her accent got your attention considering it wasn't the usual twang of Louisiana.

You felt the tattoo on your shoulder twinge a bit and studied the blonde for a moment but brushed it off “I promise to watch where I'm going from here on out” she nodded towards your bags “Tourist?” You shook your head “actually i just moved here” she extended her hand “I'm Rebekah Mikaelson” you had to catch yourself to make sure your expression didn't show your true reaction to her name.

Leave it to you to literally run into one of the original vampires. You'd heard they'd vacated New Orleans, was your information bad or had they just done a loop back? You shook her hand and told her your name. She cut her eyes down to where your lemonade had spilled all over the sidewalk “Allow me to buy you another drink? After all I'd hate to seem unwelcoming to someone new to town”

You felt the slight pull of compulsion and breathed a sigh of relief knowing the warding in your tattoo hadn't been a waste. She raised an eyebrow at you and it took everything you had to not let a nervous laugh out, you had no beef with her family and didn't need any.

“It's no problem” you assured her but she was already opening the door to the cafe and ushering you inside “Oh I insist. I have a feeling the two of us are going to become good friends” “Ok then” you agreed with a small smile. Why the hell had you picked New Orleans?

—----------

You sat across from Rebekah listening as she spoke of her family and their ties to the city you now resided in. After a moment she smiled again then leaned forward to where only you could hear what she said “I've got to ask though. What are you?”

Your eyes widened slightly “Excuse me?” Laughter bubbled out of her “When I told you my name you flinched, I couldn't compel you. You're not a vampire because there isn't a single ring on your finger. Werewolf is also no because you're sitting across from me. I'd wager witch but that doesn't seem to fit you either”

You swallowed hard but shrugged one shoulder “I'm someone who knows a little about a lot. There's a tattoo on my shoulder that's warded with every sigil seven different covens could get their hands on. I mean no harm to you or yours. I just needed a new place to live and a friend knew someone here who was willing to rent to someone with no proof of identity or job”

She nodded slowly “Are you a hunter?” You gave one sharp nod. Either she'd kill you here and now or get one of those brothers you'd heard so much about to take you out. You hadn't expected a smile to brighten her face “Delightful. We need to get together again sometime”

“Is that a request or a demand?” You asked and she shrugged one shoulder “It's an offer, just friendship. You're new to town, my family built this town. Besides there's some here that wouldn't take your word that you mean no harm and having one of us on your side could help” you held her gaze for a moment then motioned to her phone “Let me give you my number in that case”

By the time you got to your place you felt exhausted mentally and physically. How the hell had you ended up with one of the original vampires in your contact list?

You walked through your front door and dumped the bags on the floor. It was a small place. One of those open floors where the bed was about fifteen feet from the front door. A couch and a television was shoved into a corner as a living room of sorts. The kitchen consisted of a few counters and a tiny stove with a microwave installed over it. At least the bathroom was a decent size with a walk in shower and a stacked washer and dryer.

You needed to make the bed, put towels away and set up your coffee maker but all you wanted was a shower and to crash. One thing at a time.

The Originals

[zoeykallus]

Hi! I hope that you are having a good time and have been able to get some rest.

I would like to make a request featuring clones of your choice.

How do you think the Clones would react to meeting their S/O's sibling, who happens to be their identical twin?

Sounds like fun 😊

So, I picked some clones and scenarios that came to mind 😅

Fives/Rex/Crosshair/Gregor x TwinReader HCs - I've Seen That Face Before

Fluff/Humor/Confusion

_____________

Fives

He comes swinging into your apartment as usual, with the spare key he got from you last week. He doesn't know that your sister is visiting. You are in the open kitchen and can see him coming into the living room. Just the way Fives is, he puts an arm around your sibling's waist and says, "Hello, beautiful, I missed you". But at the same moment he says the words, you see his facial expression change. "Something's wrong here," he says quietly, confused, alarmed. "You must be Fives," your twin says dryly, squirming out of his arm, "I can say Fives, can't I?" "Uh, sure, but you can also call me confused." Then he hears you laugh and looks in your direction. He lets out a sigh of relief and comes over to you, hugging you and kissing your face. "There you are," he says with a grin. "Yes, and I see you've met my twin sibling as well". Fives nods to your sibling with a shy smile and says meekly, "Sorry for the stormy greeting."

Your twin waves it off, "Don't worry, you wouldn't believe how often we get confused". Fives laughs and says amused, "You do know I'm a clone, right? Mix-ups with outsiders are a daily occurrence for us. Well, now I know how it feels to be on the other end of this situation"

Rex

He is so stressed, you have a date, but due to a chain of unfavorable circumstances beyond his control, he is late, almost a whole hour. He arrives at the meeting place, the small coffee shop where you met, at the table where your twin is sitting and waiting for you because you are still getting pastries. Rex knows that you wanted to bring a sibling, but he doesn't know about your resemblance. He kisses your surprised twin on the cheek, presses the bouquet of flowers into their hand, and your twin looks at him, blinking, as he sits down across from them at the small table. "I'm so sorry darling, I know we're going to miss the movie, but maybe we can still make the night screening" "Rex-" He raises his hands and interrupts your twin, "I know, I know, it's happened a few times now, unfortunately because of work. I'll make it up to you. I promise," he smiles suggestively, leans forward a bit across the table and says conspiratorially, "Tonight, when we're alone again, I'll spoil you rotten." "Rex I-" He continues smiling mischievously, "The full program anything you want, I'll be your slave tonight...or you're mine depending on what you feel like" "Rex-"

He blinks and stares at your twin. "Where's your sibling anyway, didn't they want to go to the movies with us?" Your twin finally blurts out, "I AM THE SIBLING!" Rex stiffens, stares thunderstruck at the person he has in front of him, then notices a few tiny little differences. If he hadn't been so rattled, he might have noticed sooner. "Oh... oh maker" He sees you coming toward the table and repeats, "Oh dear maker.... please don't tell how much I just embarrassed myself" Rex says quietly pleading with your twin. "Let's see how well I like you after tonight," Rex gets in response with a cheeky little grin.

Crosshair

He already knows that he will meet your twin, he is more or less prepared. And even though he's used to seeing many of the same faces through his clone brothers, he's still a bit surprised when he sees you with your sibling. "And you're sure you're not from Kamino?" he asks dryly. You chuckle. "No, Cross, we're not clones," you assure him. Your twin seems less amused, eyeing your boyfriend critically. Then he does something thoughtless, a stupid joke he quickly regrets. "It's good to know that there's a second copy of you. If it doesn't work out between us, maybe it will work out with the twin". Your twin says dryly, "Certainly not. Better get rid of that idiot fast". Crosshair wants to sink into the ground, but he raises his hands placatingly. "Woah, relax. It was just a joke. Admittedly a stupid joke, as I have to say now in retrospect. It sounded more amusing in my mind." Your twin rolls their eyes, and Crosshair realizes he's gotten himself in hot water. He looks at you cautiously, seeking help. "Kitten, you know it was just a stupid joke, right?" You laugh softly, roll your eyes, and say, "Of course I do." Your twin, however, can't quite warm up to your partner, and that probably won't change.

Gregor

He comes to the meeting place and sees you both there. With his shy little chuckle, he says, "Okay, firstly, I'm sober, I just wanted to establish that. But I still see you double, darling." You both roll your eyes but have to giggle anyway. "Cute," says your twin. "Told you so," you say with a laugh, pointing to the seat next to you, whereupon Gregor sits down with you and presses a kiss to your temple. Your twin asks, "And, how is it for you, to know that there is a twin?" Gregor shrugs and says lightly, "Well, I have a lot of brothers who are practically identical. Your sister doesn't have a problem with that either, does she?" You both nod. "Good point," you say with a smile, "But you're still unique." Gregor kisses your forehead again, "That's sweet of you, but there are also differences between you two that I saw right away. I'm sure there are a few more that you only find out over time" "Like what, for example," you ask curiously.

"Your posture, the way you move, is different, not too much, but enough that it's noticeable when you look closely. The way you talk, emphasize words. Even in appearance, there are very subtle, differences, hardly noticeable if you don't look closely, but they are there." Your twin says, "You should hold on to that one, he seems smart and attentive, especially the latter is rare to find." You say with a satisfied smile, "Don't worry, I plan to do just that." Gregor says with his trademark giggle, "And I'll be happy to let you hold me."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@starwarsnerd111

[imagine--if]

A/N: I've always loved Harry but I've rewatched TASM and I've gotta write for him now to fill up his tag a bit.. and cus it's hArRy 🥰 so there are more fics for him to come!! also, am I the only one who rambles when I'm nervous? I'm gonna safely assume not lol 😅 dorky readers are cuteeee

Wordcount: 460

It was interesting, to say the least, to see how the lucky few got to live in San Fransico, all the executives and bosses and CEOs gathered together for their fancy gathering poorly disguised not to look like a place to trade business and earn even more money, though their conversations always drifted back to it.

You grabbed your things together from your desk at the end of the day at Oscorp, swinging your bag over your shoulder and brushing your hair out of your face tiredly. Everyone knew by now about Norman Osborn's death, and there were a lot of contrasting opinions about his son taking over the company at such a young age. You'd never met him properly yourself, and were pretty convinced that he wouldn't be much different from the other money-makers strutting through the building and giving you more and more work to do.

That is, of course, until you walk right into the man himself when you turn around to get to the elevator.

Your eyes widen in confusion and mild annoyance until they meet the cool, vaguely interested blue gaze of Harry Osborn, who surprisingly doesn't look at you like you're something he's scraped off his shoe. If anything, he looks a little amused, raising a brow slightly as your brain short-circuits to think of a good enough excuse.

"Uh- I'm sorry, I wasn't.. looking where I was going," you say with an awkward smile, unconsciously rambling. "I was looking... that way, because... it's where I came from."

Again, instead of the look of disdain and apprehensiveness you half expected, Harry looks like he's trying not to laugh, glancing in the direction before looking back at you.

"It's okay," he says simply, a small smirk on his face, as he takes you in for a short moment. "You work here?"

You nod, smiling. "Yeah. And you do too? I mean... you're Harry Osborn, so... you're the CEO."

Harry's smirk grows. "I am, yeah."

You smile awkwardly, feeling as if the young man is searching your eyes for something, in a kind of interest or intrigue about your personality, and glance at the lift.

"I should probably..."

"Hang on," he calls after you as you go to walk away, and you turn back to see his cool blue eyes shining with curiosity... and something more that you couldn't quite identify. "What's your name?"

You tell him with a half-smile, and Harry repeats it thoughtfully, his gaze drifting for a moment before returning to you with the same intrigued smile and oddly intense stare.

"I'll see you around."

You smile, reaching the elevator. "You will?"

Harry smirks, pressing the elevator button for you as the thick glass doors seal close between you and him. "You will."

[myfaveficrecs]

Remember This?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2,011

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of injuries/medical procedures

AN: I am dipping my toes back into the writing world for @roosterforme​’s #love is in the air tgm challenge. My song is, “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men. Hopefully this isn’t a flop! Happy Valentine’s Day! XOXO

You enjoyed your job immensely. Helping people had always been something that was extremely important to you, and you were lucky enough to be able to do what you were passionate about. You finished medical school 3 years ago and now you were employed at your local VA Hospital part time, your other half being on base with your husband, Bradley. You had been high school sweethearts and you were still going on like it was your honeymoon.

You were overjoyed when you learned you were going to be able to help soldiers from all branches from all over the country. You helped veteran soldiers with rehabilitation mostly. Post war injuries that needed extra help and attention when they were able to come back home. 

Bradley and his squadron were all in the Navy. Fanboy and Halo had done 3 tours in Iraq and Afghanistan while Bradley had done 2 recently. Hangman was almost killed in combat 4 days before he was due to come home from his last deployment. The others had thankfully come home in one piece, only minor scrapes and injuries from their time overseas. Bradley hadn’t been as lucky. 

Bradley had been shot once in the chest inches away from his heart, and shrapnel had sliced through his face, neck, and arm. He was lucky to be alive but thankfully the doctors he had were good at what they do. They were able to save his life but not without complications. He had severe nerve damage through his left shoulder and bicep and his collarbone had been shattered and completely reconstructed. When he was sent home, he started showing up to the hospital you worked at for his physical therapy, often riding home with you at the end of the day.

You had just finished with a patient when you were heading to your office, passing by the nurses’ station on your way. You dropped the patient’s chart off at the desk but before you could start heading in the direction you desired, your charge nurse, Rebecca, stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

She just shrugged her shoulders noncommittally with a smirk, walking away from you to continue your filing.  Looking at your basket you noticed you had no patients waiting and walked to your office wondering who could be waiting for you.

As soon as you walked into your office your face broke out in a large smile. You knew it was your husband without a doubt. His 6’1” frame standing in front of your large window overlooking the city, broad shoulders, long legs, tight little ass, and hair with perfect curls for pulling.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” You smiled while shutting your door, taking off your lab jacket and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs in your office. He turned around quickly and smiled at you, holding his arms open wide for you to walk into, bringing you into a warm and tight embrace.

“Yeah, I had my last appointment today and thought I’d come up and see you.”

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Almost as good as before.”

“That’s awesome, honey.”

“You don’t have any patients do you?”

“No, I think my next appointment is in another 45 minutes, why?”

With a mischievous look and a flick of the lock on your door, Bradley looks towards your desk and says, “Hey Alexa! Play my baby maker playlist.” You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face in his chest as “I’ll Make Love to You,” starts to echo in your office.  

“Haven’t heard this song since the night before my last deployment...you remember that night?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Of course, I do! But Roo, we can’t do that here!”

“We can. I locked the door. C’mon baby, I thought we could celebrate a little early.” He could see the slight crack in your resolve and pounced on the seconds of vulnerability, the pride. “Besides, Rebecca is probably listening right outside the door right now anyway.:

Close your eyes, make a wish And blow out the candlelight For tonight is just your night We're gonna celebrate, all through the night Pour the wine, light the fire Girl your wish is my command I submit to your demands

Bradley wrapped one hand into your hair, gently pulling your head back, tracing his nose up your cheek. Pulling back slightly he hovers his lips over your own, a little quirk to his lips when he pulls millimeters away when you try and connect. Once, twice more before he lets out a breathy chuckle at your frustration, finally crashing his plush lips to yours in a passionate kiss. His other hand pushing into your lower back and pulling you flush against him, swaying to the harmony of the song. When he pulled away you were both breathless and dizzy. Desire had pooled in your core, and you could feel an impressive bulge digging into your stomach. “You gonna let me love you like it’s that night all over again? Right here, right now?”

He didn’t give you any time to respond before he crashed his lips back onto yours once again. This time the kiss was all tongue and teeth. He loved to bite on your lower lip when you kissed, and it always managed to send shivers down your spine. As soon as you let out a moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you and he smiled against your mouth. He quickly picked you up, digging his hands underneath your ass cheeks and plopped you unceremoniously on top of your desk, pushing everything out of his way to give you enough room to lie down. Your movements were frantic, knowing time was limited, ironically the same as the night before he left. 

I will do anything, girl you need only ask I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley was usually a rough lover, but he always managed to make you feel loved and protected, no matter what you were doing, and the sex was no different. His touch held a tenderness; a reaffirming touch that he would always be there to care for you.

You quickly pulled his shirt off of his broad shoulders and pulled it up over his head to reveal his chiseled chest and abs. Reaching up you pulled Bradley down toward you, kissing over his scars from the old wounds, shrapnel, and surgeries. This was something you always did, letting him know you were thankful he was alive and in your arms. The reminder that he was still beautiful in your eyes.

Girl relax, let's go slow I ain't got nowhere to go I'm just gon' concentrate on you Girl, are you ready? It's gon' be a long night Throw your clothes (throw your clothes) on the floor (on the floor) I'm gonna take my clothes off too I've made plans to be with you Girl whatever you ask me, you know I can do

Bradley pulled your hair and moved your head back far enough to stretch your neck long, licking a broad stripe and ending with a quick nip underneath your ear. You let out an obscene moan making him pull back from you and stand up as straight as he could while leaning over your desk for support. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He practically ripped your scrub pants and panties off of you in one quick pull, your shoes flying off along with them from the force of his tug. He placed your feet wide along the edge of your desk, opening yourself up to him. “Fuck Y/N…you’re already soaking wet.” 

“I’m always wet for you, Bradley…now are you just going to stare or are you going to make love to your wife?” 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley’s demeanor instantly changed. His eyes quickly shot up to yours, narrowing into slits. He clenched his jaw making it tick, and he snapped his belt open, never once taking his eyes from yours. The intensity bringing a new wave of slick rushing out of you. There was no reply from him, his face telling you everything you needed to know. He was most definitely going to love you, and he was going to make sure you remembered it. 

Pulling his jeans and boxers down just below his ass, his erection sprang free. It was long and thick, steadily leaking drops of precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, slowly stroking upwards, giving you a show. With a smirk he wrapped his hand around your thighs, pulling you down until your ass was flush with the edge of your desk. 

Baby, tonight is your night And I will do you right Just make a wish on your night Anything that you ask I will give you the love of your life, your life, your life

No warning was given before he thrust into you in one slow and measured thrust, filling you to the brink, and trusting your body to accept him as it has hundreds of times before. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened wide to let out a sound you had never heard yourself make before, not that you could bring yourself to care. 

“I said,” he pistoned into you quickly, “be quiet. You don’t want those coworkers of yours getting too curious, do you?” You shook your head, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to muffle your noises. Bradley set a punishing pace knowing time was not on his side. His hips quickly meeting yours, the sound of slapping skin loud enough to echo throughout your office over the music. He pushed your scrub top up and over your breasts, pulling the cups of your bra down, and started to roughly caress your breasts with his left hand, his right holding tightly onto your hip to keep you from scooting across your desk from the power of his thrusts. The cold metal of his wedding ring made your nipples harden to tight peaks, the sensation running like a lightning bolt to your clit. “Fuck…Roo…please.” 

He didn’t need to ask what you needed, knowing your body better than you did after all of these years. He quickly put his body flush with yours, chest to chest, intertwining your hands together beside of your head, and slammed his lips onto yours once again, tongues battling for dominance and attempting to muffle the noises trying to escape. The new angle caused him to move even deeper inside of you, completely bottoming out. The feeling of being so full and the delicious friction his pelvis was giving you by rubbing against your clit sent you over the edge. 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

You arched your back and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. The tight fluttering of your walls sending Bradley into his own orgasm, giving a growl you felt deep within his chest as he released himself inside of you. The sound of your intercom on your office phone went off, Rebecca’s voice floating through the room. “Your last appointment of the day just cancelled. See you tomorrow, Dr. Bradshaw!” 

Both of you were still breathing heavily, interlocked together to the point you couldn’t tell where you began, and he ended. “Thank God because I don’t think I can walk after that.” 

You both broke out into laughter, ready to go home. Bradley knew he had that record on the bookshelf in his office...round 2 is exactly what the doctor ordered.

If you do not wish to be tagged, please let me know and I will remove you! If you do want to be tagged, please let me know.

@roosterscock​​

@roosterforme​​

@endofdays56​​

@bradshawsbitch​​

@jupitercomet​​

@seresinhangmanjake​​

@wildbornsiren​​

@babyrooster​​

@ohtobeleah​​​

@oncasette​​

@topguncortez​​

@topgun-imagines​

@roleycoleyreccenter​​

@cherrycola27​​

@thedroneranger​​

@notroosterbradshaw​​

@almostgenerallyalways​​

@roosterbruiser​​

@teacupsandtopgun​​

@mak-32​​​