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margowritesthings · 1 year

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Te Beroya: II

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Mandalorian!Arthur Morgan x reader crossover: Star Wars x Red Dead Redemption prompt: 48. “For someone who acts like they hate me, you sure find a way to get me alone a lot.” + 52. “Just because you're pretty, it doesn't mean you can just get away with anything." / "You think I'm pretty?" + 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” + 89. “Be careful, sweetheart. Do you really think that's a good idea?” + 90. “You’re playing a dangerous game, girl" word count: 3719 words warnings: sexual innuendos, star wars swears, brief mentions of trauma from readers past authors note: it's here! One last little chapter before I go into full moving mode. Not sure when the next one will be, but Im workin on it!! I love these two crazies, Im not gonna lie. And yes, I went toally ham on that prompt list, but its the best. As always reblogs/likes are appreciated, and if you wanna be tagged in the rest of the series let me know!!

beta read by @cowboydisaster, divider by @saradika

The look shared between you and the 10 foot tall bantha says more than words ever could.

“I am not riding all the way to Mos Espa on a bantha.” You announce, going on instinct to fold your arms in defiance across your chest, before realising your hands are bound. It frustrates you even more and you huff, one more mishap away from stamping your foot like a child.

Arthur seems unphased by your tantrum. Amused, even.

“Well, you got two choices, Princess. You can ride up there with me, or I’m sure Boadicea here will gladly drag you along behind…” You roll your eyes, sighing in great defeat, hating that you’ve lost so much control of this situation so quickly. And of course he’s named the damn bantha.

“Your ‘choices’ suck, you know that? It’s not a choice if one of the options is death or getting dragged across the Dune sea by my broken limbs.”

Maker help him, he laughs, taking that as answer enough and hoisting himself up onto the saddle by the stirrups. You watch on, unimpressed, as he places his helmet back on and it hisses quietly. He extends a hand out to help you up and shuffles back in his seat.

When you figure out how exactly this is going to work, you feel your throat dry up, more so than it already is from 18 hours exposed to the elements of the desert. He wants you in front of him, where your back will surely press up against his chest, literally caging you in with those huge arms to keep his hands on the reins. All that contact…

“No way. We’re not gonna both fit on there.” You shake your head, taking a step backwards. Arthur doesn’t flinch, knowing if you ran now you’d be dead in days, especially with those cuffs on.

“You shoulda’ thought about that before you tried to knock me out and run away, little mouse.”

Anxiety bounces around your frame at the idea. Ever since that night, the one that changed everything, you hate being touched by others, especially in such close proximity. But what choice do you have? It’s getting hot, and you’re not sure you’d survive a trek across the desert on your feet… Plus, possibly more terrifying than death by sand, he was just touching you everywhere, during your fight. And somehow, you didn’t hate it. It wasn’t like every other time you’ve been touched… The feel of his hard body covering the length of you, his bulge prodding firmly against your thigh as he pinned your wrists down deep into the sand…

You’re getting distracted.

“Urgh. Fine. But don’t get any ideas, beroya.” You lift your wrists, letting him grab your hands to help you mount Boadicea. When you swing your leg around, it settles you into the saddle, up close and personal with your captor. His hard chest presses firmly against your back, thighs around yours and crotch in serious danger of grinding up against your ass with each step the bantha makes. You think back to the fight, expecting to regret it, but instead find yourself trying awfully hard not to think about how thrilling it was to have a big, bad bounty hunter on top of you like that…

Maker, what has gotten into you?!

Well… nothing. Maybe that’s the problem… you swore yourself away from all of that after you were shown just how cruel the Galaxy can be, all too focused on the plight of survival once you became such a high value target. But now… well, it’s clearly messing with your head, because there is no way in hell you should be thinking about the hard-on of the man destined to be your end… You make a mental note to get laid once this is over… If this is over.

When Arthur clicks the reins and Boadicea the bantha starts to walk, you clamp your jaw shut and your breaths come out as sighs, in an attempt to show him just how furious you are at this turn of events. The grinding of your teeth is all part of the act, you tell yourself, and not at all a method of distracting yourself from the ripple of muscle you feel pressed flush against your back. You can feel him breathe, could swear you can feel a soft thrum of his heart as the scent of campfires and cigarettes infiltrates your senses. He’s all consuming, in the most infuriating ways, shuffling logic right out of your mind.

There’s a tension in the tiny gap between you, one that spikes every time Boadicea moves in a way that presses your ass further up against Arthur’s crotch and you’re sure his breath hitches at each point of contact.

“So-” He starts, his voice sounding almost strangled, “How’s a pretty little thing like you end up on the Outer Rim’s Most Wanted list?”

Ah, perfect. Small talk about life’s greatest traumas to distract you from the fact you now know your captor has the biggest dick in the Galaxy. Unlucky for Arthur, you’re not exactly in a sharing mood, so deflection it is.

“Sorry, beroya, the tragic backstory package is locked behind a level of friendship unattainable to the likes of you.” As an added effect, you move your wrists around so the metal of the cuffs clinks against your belt. A reminder of the situation, if you will.

“Aw, shucks, and here I was thinkin’ you liked me.” He’s all bravado, slapping his thigh comically. You don’t laugh. “Well, just so you know…” He leans closer, and his breath tickles the back of your ear sending a shiver all the way down your spine, “I don’t like you either, princess.”

Now that does draw a smirk from you. Ugly words are one thing, but biology doesn’t lie, and Arthur’s is screaming the very opposite. You adjust yourself in the saddle again, feeling that very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing against your flesh.

“Coulda’ fooled me, cowboy.”

Being situated in front of him, you don’t see Arthur’s hand coming, don’t realise whats happening until gloved fingers wrap around your neck, thumb and forefinger pressing firmly against the pulse points on your throat. You gasp just in time to capture just enough breath for the Mandalorian to trap in your lungs. He’s so close you feel the cool metal of his helmet against your skin, the way he’s holding you forcing you to crane your neck back into him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty girl. Be careful, mesh’la. Do you really think that’s a good idea?” His warning is growled into your ear, slightly gravelly through the helmet, and you swear you’ve never felt a heat burn so fiercely everywhere. Fuck, the way he’s holding you is possessive, wanting… It ignites a very dangerous flame you’d rather not address, but the way you squirm, that little whimper that escapes your parted lips, says everything that you’d never admit aloud.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to, especially when he squeezes just that bit tighter and you feel your heart beating in your flushed cheeks. A witty retort would be just in character, but words fail you as your binded hands attempt to scratch uselessly through the leather of his thick gloves. Boadicea continues her trek, unaware that you’re all but soaking the poor girls saddle through.

“Just cause you’re pretty, doesn’t mean you can get away with just anything. Not with me, sweetheart.” You hear every rasp in his voice, the years he’s lived and fought branding it like scars. When he relinquishes the pressure, just a little, the blood rushes back into your face and you know it’s your turn to talk. He’s expecting obedience, and you’ll be damned if you comply, even if he holds your lifeforce between his thumb and forefinger.

“You… You think I’m pretty? Gee, Arthur, I don’t think you’re supposed to-” He doesn’t let you finish, the frustration at you manifesting into another soul quaking growl as he squeezes harder.

“Do you really think that behaving like that is going to get you want you want, you little brat?”

…Kriff. You’ve been labelled as difficult before, but never in a way that leaves you panting like this. Fuck, this is not how it’s supposed to go. He’s going to have you killed, and yet your panties are soaking through. You’re losing the last scraps of power you once clung to so vehemently… but Maker does it feel good…

“Listen here, Princess. I ain’t blind, alright? You’re a pretty girl. But I ain’t stupid, either. Half the time I can’t tell if I wanna kill you or fuck you, but that don’t mean shit, cause ever since I got those binders on you, you’ve been mine, alright? So shut that pretty little mouth of yours before I shut it for you. Now, are you gonna behave for me? Or am I gonna have to force you?”

The defiance that blazed in your eyes dies there, your mouth opening and closing pathetically as you fail to find something to say. All you can do is nod, the small movements he’ll allow of you, at least.

“Good girl.”

You gasp out for the dry air of the desert, and it feels like being washed under a stream after the longest drought. Your fingers rub over the reddened skin of your neck, easing the ache just slightly.

Arthur grabs the reins again, smacking them lightly to speed Boadicea up.

You say nothing, trying desperately to extinguish whatever the hell is happening between your legs.

Half the time I can’t tell if I wanna kill you or fuck you.

I can’t tell if I wanna kill you or fuck you.

…kill you or fuck you

The words swim around your mind for the next few hours of the silent, torturous ride. The desert air is hot, but you’d rather marry a wookie than ask for the water your throat is crying out for. The tension between you and Arthur hasn’t dwindled for a second, and you’re putting more blame on that than the suns beating down on you relentlessly for your flustered state. The only relief you get is from knowing its just as hard for Arthur… literally. Knowing he’s just as uncomfortable, all thanks to you, is all the consolation you need.

The skies are starting to cast an orange glow across your skin as the suns both begin to reach the horizon. You’re not too far out from Mos Espa now, but Boadicea is slowing significantly, and you can tell she’s ready for a break, so it doesn’t surprise you when Arthur swings his thigh from around you to dismount. He leaves you sitting there for a moment while he pulls off his helmet, hanging it next to the saddlebag that he pulls an oat cake out of for Boadicea .

“There, there, good girl…” he coos to her, patting her thick fur. His words of praise bring you right back to when he said that to you, and it infuriates and arouses you in equal amounts to remember the moment. You hate yourself for it. It’s a vicious cycle that leaves you dizzy.

Eventually, after petting the only woman you’re sure Arthur Morgan will ever love, he returns to you, holding out a hand to help you down,

“M’lady.” He nods sarcastically and you roll your eyes, making a point to slide off the saddle without his help, landing less than gracefully and taking a second to steady yourself. Arthur shakes his head as he watches you, before turning back to the saddle bag and pulling out a variety of things you’ll need to camp.

“We’re stopping here?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from the dehydration and protestful lack of speech. Looking around, you can’t see anything but sand. You’re less than enthusiastic about a night here, alone with him, but you’re not exactly the one making the decisions here.

“Well, unfortunately for us, your highness, the palace was booked full, and we’re in the middle of the Dune Sea.” He explains while he starts to unroll the singular bedroll. You sit down in the sand, crossing your legs beneath you with a childish pout on your lips. Oh, how you wish you could get these damn binders off. They’re so uncomfortable, and it’s been hours.

Arthur gathers enough dry wood from around the area to build a decent fire, dusting the sand away and setting them up like he’s done this a thousand times over. You know the feeling, so long ago forced out from your home and set on the run for the remainder of this lonely life. It makes you wonder if Arthur has a home of his own, a family. Watching him as intently as you are, seeing those tired eyes… somehow you know he doesn’t. Maybe once, maybe in a different life… but you know the look of loneliness well, you see her every time you come face to face with a mirror, and he embodies it. As sad as it is, it makes sense. A loving family man just wouldn’t be cut out for this kind of life.

There’s only one sun left now, the skies above a stunning gradient from orange to purple, all the way to the inky blues on the other side of the horizon. It takes Arthur no time at all to have the fire going, positioning his bedroll out next to it. He gestures for you to sit on it, but you’re stubbornly deciding the sand a few feet away would be better. Arthur snorts,

“Suit yourself.”

He returns one last time to the saddle bag, pulling out some cans, a flask, and a pouch of something wrapped in cloth. By the time he sits beside the fire, it’s roaring

“Hungry?” He asks, extending an arm to offer you the flask. A hesitation, while you decide if you’d rather kill your pride or die of hunger and thirst. It’s a tough choice, but you eventually nod and take the flask in both hands. It takes you a second to figure out how to open it with bound hands, and Arthur seems to take great joy in your attempts, until you manage to squish the flask between your knees and twist the cap off. It takes a lot of restraint to not gulp the whole thing down when that first drop hits your tongue, but both of you still have a ways to go before your destination, so you don’t. The pass back is reluctant, as is the tiny ‘thank you’ you mutter under your breath.

“Oh, look at you, princess, finding your manners.” He takes a sip of his own, starting to unwrap the little parcel to reveal some slices of meat and pulling a knife from his holster to crack the tins open. Part of you wants to prove his point, to growl at him and fight back, but you’re pretty damn hungry, so you stay quiet, silently plotting another escape.

As Arthur starts to work on the food, pouring beans into a little metal pot, he glances at you, finding amusement in your tantrum.

“You gonna come join me for some food or keep sulkin’? Either way’s fine by me, I’ll have your extras if you don’t want ‘em.” It doesn’t take very long at all for the beans to cook when he holds them over the flame, the aroma reaching your nostrils soon enough. Even for just beans, it smells good, probably cause you haven’t eaten since back in the Cantina, which feels like 3 lifetimes ago right now. Your stomach grumbles pointedly, and you’re forced to swallow your pride and gracefully stand, stomping sand everywhere as you sit right on the edge of the bedroll, as far away from Arthur (by mere inches) as possible.

He raises a taunting brow, “For someone who acts like they hate me, you sure do find ways to get real close to me.” Line thrown, hook absolutely smothered in bait.

The fury in your eyes gives the campfire a run for its credits, “Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy- you’ve been all over me since the Cantina, rubbing your cock against my ass for the last day!”

You know the victory is Arthur’s with the way he smirks at your outburst, like winding you up is his favourite pastime. He’s holding back a laugh, you can tell because his crows feet crease deeper and his lip twitches. Hook, line and sinker.

There’s a pause, surely being spent figuring out how else to annoy you, before Arthur picks up a slice of the jerky he brought and offers it to you, “...Want some meat?”

… You’re going to kill him in his sleep.

Too hungry to refuse, you snatch it off him and take an aggressive bite, the eye contact you’re shooting lasers with never breaking. Maybe it’s the hunger talking, but it tastes so good you almost moan. Almost, though your furious facade might have broken for just a moment. He’s waiting for gratitude, but you have other ideas.

“I’m not fucking you.” You announce, so out of the blue that Arthur almost chokes on his meat. Now that’d be a sight to see…

“You said you didn’t know whether to kill me or fuck me,” You explain, I’m just telling you ya’ ain’t got chance of either.”

The offended guffaw you’re after never comes, in its place a look so intense you feel flames lick at your toes and travel up between your thighs.

“Listen, mesh’la,” He growls the sarcastic term of endearment, and you vibrate, “Just cause I can’t decide if that pretty throat of yours deserves my blade or my cock doesn’t mean you’re getting either. I’ll have you, but only if you’re on your hands and knees begging me for it. I’ve got your fiery little temper worked out, and I know just what fuels it. Don’t worry, little one, you’re safe… for now.”

Dank farrick, how does he do it? Every attempt to rile him thwarted, leaving you flustered, wet, and with your jaw so slack you could catch flies. Maybe silence is the best option, to give him none of your words to twist and pull into whatever this tension between you is.

You’re not going to fuck him.

He’s literally holding you prisoner.

You’re not going to fuck him.

He’s bringing you back to them.

You’re not going to-

“Y’alright there, princess? Keep lookin’ at me like that and I’ll think you’ve changed your mind.”

“You’re infuriating.” You spit back, finishing the last of your jerky with another angry bite.

“And here was me thinkin’ we were becoming friends…”

“What?! No. Nu-uh. No way.”

“Well I ain’t leaving you to run off on me. I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s up for debate…” you mumble, just loud enough for him to decipher your words. You’re not helping your case, Arthur holding his hands out expectantly as he awaits your compliance.

“Arthur,” you start, realising you’ve never actually said his name out loud before, liking the way it feels forming on your tongue, hating that fact. “Neither of us are gonna sleep a wink if I’m strapped to you.”

He has little other choice. You know that, knowing there’s no way he’d trust you to not stab him in his sleep and run away. Smart guy, considering you’d already considered that very plan extensively. But no, he had to be difficult. He’s already stashed his knife with Boadicea, who is laid too far away to reach.

“Hindsight is clear as day, Princess. Maybe next time don’t try to run.” Pfft. Next time. There won’t be a next time, thanks to him.

Running out of patience, Arthur takes a step towards you, and you take one step backwards. He reaches for the binders and you lift them away. It’s a dance, one he quickly tires of and grips onto your forearm before you can move it.

His touch burns your skin, even through the gloves, and the fight leaves your body near instantly. His grip is firm, bruising, almost, and that devilish part of you enjoys it.

Would being chained to him for a night really be so bad…?

“Fine. Whatever. But keep your hands to yourself, mando. And you better not snore.”

“Of course, of course… wouldn’t wanna interrupt that beauty sleep, now, would I?” He sarcastically huffs, wrapping rope around the middle part of your binders that keeps your wrists together. Watching him twist and turn the rope around his huge hands does something to you, and you start to wonder if this man can do absolutely anything that won’t turn you on somehow. You’ve gotta knock this off, it’s getting dangerous, especially considering you’re about to share a bedroll tied to him.

His rope isn’t the longest, giving only a few feet of space between the two of you as he loops it through his belt and around his own arm, knotted so intricately it would be impossible to untie without waking him up. An expert in rope tying… of course he is.

Pushing thoughts of other uses for that skill of his far, far away, you watch your escape plan fall apart before your eyes, every detail somehow preemptively thwarted by Arthur’s actions as if he could read your mind. Maker, you hope he can’t, they’ve been pretty much in bed with him since he bought you that drink back in the Cantina.

Arthur sits down in the sand, the rope tugging at you to do the same. Notably, he leaves the bedroll for you, situating himself on the ground as far away as the rope will allow. And they said chivalry is dead…

“So we just… sleep? Here?” Your brows are pulled together, a sure sign of how displeased you are at this whole situation.

“Well I could read ya’ a bedtime story, but some say I don’t get the voices quite right…” By the time you go to glare at him, he’s already laying in the sand, gazing up at the sea of stars. You sigh, taking that as answer enough.

Silence, just for a moment.

“G’night, princess…”

“...Goodnight, beroya.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #star wars #tha mandalorian #crossover #star wars crossover #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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kiankiwi · 1 year

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Here's my request idea for the COH AU; could you please write something about John coaxing and holding Erin through her first temper tantrum like the 'mad' scene from the movie? Thanks!

I'm sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!

"Honey, we can't go to the toy store right now! It's dark outside! They're closed, I'm sorry!" John explained, pointing to the window where you could see it was indeed dark out. You had had your eye on a pink bunny stuffie you had seen the other day and you had asked your daddy for it but for some reason he was denying you. He didn't spoil you much but this was very important to you so you didn't think he would deny you the happiness you would surely feel by getting a new friend.

What? That can't be! You thought, all the stuffies at the store would be afraid of the dark! That thought had made you even more emotional. On top of the fact that you were getting tired and it was almost your bedtime.

"Store!" You yelled. You had to get it through your daddy's thick head that you NEEDED to go rescue your new friend! You couldn't let your bunny friend stay another night in the empty store, you just couldn't let it happen. But you had no concept of time so you had no idea why it mattered that it was "too late"

"No baby, I'm sorry. We'll go another day to get you a stuffy." Hearing your request getting denied again, especially when it was so important to you made you furious. You stamped your little pajama'd foot and yelled as loud as you could, wiggling your legs so your rage bounced you a bit.

"I know, that makes you mad doesn't it? That's okay to be mad. But that doesn't change the fact that we are not going tonight." He said, putting his foot down.

John was happy you were upset to be honest. That meant you felt safe enough with him to express negative emotions. And you definitely felt toddler rage right now.

You didn't understand.. it was okay to be mad??? But it felt horrible! And you had to leave this friend that you had become attached in a very short time behind in the store.

"No! No! No! Store! Store! Store!" You screamed, flailing your arms in anger as John watched you. John supressed a smile, trying to see how far you were willing to go, to see how comfortable you were to show John your anger.

He watched you carefully. He didn't want to not tell you to do something. He would tell you not but he hesitated to tell you "don't do ____" because he didn't want you to get scared and back off of showing your true feelings and emotions.

So he stayed out of the way of your frantic arm swings and just let you feel. "Daddy, I need the bunny!" You screamed, now crying. You were so desperate to go get your friend and these negative emotions were overwhelming you. "Daddy, I-I-I need him!!"

"Baby, I hear you. But it's almost bedtime right now and all the bunnies are sleeping right now. We'll go another time when you're feeling better." AKA feeling happier.

That wasn't acceptable, you needed him and you needed him now! You would run for the door right now to go find the bunny you fell in love with but you knew John would catch you and bring you back into the house.

You attempted to throw yourself to the floor but in a blink of an eye John caught you and held you against him, your back to his chest. You thrashed around, your limbs going wild with anger as you struggled. "C'mon keep going, you got it!" John encouraged, "Oh come on, you can do better than that!" He said as you fought against him.

You screamed as loud as you could and threw your head back to try and hit something so you would be dropped but he still held onto you. "Good girl, go on, you got it!" He still encouraged.

"M-m-" You attempted but the word was lost as you sucked in another lungful of air to be able to scream. "What? What was that? C'mon you can do it!" John egged on.

Ugh, would he just stop?? "MAD!" You finally screamed, going limp, breathing hard so exhausted from all the anger you just showed. "Good! Good girl!" John praised. "I'm so proud of you! You did so good!" John praised.

What? You were confused but you were too tired to put the puzzle together now.

"D-daddy?" You asked, still a bit winded. "Yes sweetheart?" John asked as he hugged her but more in a comforting way instead of a restraining way. "Nini?" You asked. Right now, you just wanted to go right to bed.

"Yeah, are you tired? Let's go get some snuggles baby. You did so good." John said happily.

I'm so sorry this took so long but it's FINALLY HERE. My MAD COH scene!!!!!!

#kiwiswriting #kiwis coh au

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fablesofkitkat · 2 years

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pov: you start to open up to Sero about your family dysfunction

alt. title: i (don't) remember you pt.12

CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE

genre: fluff

Now it's three in the morning and I'm trying to change your mind

- Arctic Monkeys

Tags: @vanilacaramel @vtte @blushycontent @charlie-xo @happilyheavenproductions @bl--ankhaeji @mattesatoruuu @that-fic-girl @comehome2myheart @hanta-fr-fr @fancyjellyfishcake @bolinbxby @shijjii @aki47-hayakawa @eijis-stuff @ectoplasmictoast @duchess-l @sana-li @ranrandomesss

When Sero came back to the dorms despite being 2:00 in the morning, you hugged him tight as if you wanted to seep into his skin. It was apparent that you wouldn't let him go when you jumped and locked your legs together around his waist. He has to carry you now. He went home for the weekend since his ma was nagging him to come visit.

And then during the good night call, he asked you what's wrong and somehow his words was the impetus to the dam of your feelings bursting forth.

"Want to talk about it?"

You burrowed your face in his chest, avoiding eye contact. "You know I mentioned that my parents were college sweethearts, right?"

"Yeah, it's nice." His hands are under your thighs holding you up as he navigates the way to his dorm room.

"Did I ever tell you how my dad decided he was gonna marry my mom?"

Sero shook his head. "No."

"He said the moment he saw her, he knew he was going to marry her." You lean your face away, staring at a spot on his shoulder. "Can you imagine feeling so strongly for someone the first time you saw them and you just knew?"

Because it wasn't like that for us. The thought snuck in with no warning.

You went on, "And I think that's why I think he made a mistake you know because I think he got blinded and failed to see and know who my mom really was."

"But your mom and dad's been married for almost 20 years."

"Yeah," you slumped over him once more, resting your chin on his left shoulder. "I think it's also because for awhile, my dad had to work abroad for higher pay. So alot of their relationship was spent in long distance."

"That's amazing." Sero comments as he reached the door of his dorm room, without needing his prompt you reached and turned the door knob. "Long distance relationships are hard."

"Yeah, my mom has this huge plastic box that contained letters. Handwritten. Their letters to each other. They used cute stationaries. Letters with actual stamps. I think I used to sneak around and read those letters when I was around 1st grade."

"You think?" He quirked a brow at that as he used one foot to push open the door.

You rolled your eyes. "I snuck around. Happy now, you grammar nazi?"

Sero's lips pressed quickly on your forehead as he laughed.

"Anyways my mom, she's not bad—"

He chuckled, kicking the door gently to close while you glared at him. "I'm sorry. It's just— you're saying it like you're leaving a review on your mom."

"Do you want me to go on?"

"Please." Sero walks over to his hammock, sat on it, and lied down with you still in his arms.

"She wasn't really there for us, for her kids. She never went to PTA meetings. She never oversaw our studies. She hired tutors sure, had nannies to take care of us but she wasn't there which was okay, no big deal. I wasn't hurt by it but she had these expectations that she's the most perfect mother in the world." You adjusted your body to lay in a position that's perfect for you and Sero when you said, "Tell me when your body's getting numb."

"'Kay."

"So, my mom wants us to do things like post our greetings on social media on her birthday. Greeting her outside of that doesn't count.Also on mother's day too. She wants to show off all the time." Your forefinger finds its way to Sero's jaw, tracing the shape. "Everything about me is about her especially after getting into U.A., I guess it's because she was the pretty girl in high school and college, she got used to everything being about her. Sucks I didn't inherit her looks."

He put his hand over your wrist. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not as pretty as her."

"You're pretty. The prettiest, cariño."

You looked at him thoughtfully and hummed. "I see, interesting." You broke into a smile.

"I'm a bad influence on you. Now you're dishing sass left and right." He grins while his fingers find the spaces between yours, holding your hand. You hear the whizzing of the tape to see Sero using his tape quirk to wound it on the door knob so he can pull on the tape to swing the hammock. "What about tío?"

"He's the best. When my siblings and I were toddlers, he actually stayed here and found work here instead of overseas." You start to smile as you remembered things fondly. "I remember his mango smoothies and coconut smoothies."

"Not strawberries?"

"Mango is the best flavor. But my dad is also a jerk. He's. . . hard to please." You stare at Sero's face, wondering if there will ever be a day you'd get sick of his face. Kami, he's so cute. "I remember the first time I joined a spelling bee contest and I got 2nd place. I was so excited that I got a medal. I come up to him and he asked me, 'why not first?'"

"Wow."

"I know. That's when I know I wouldn't get his approval unless I aim for first. So I didn't. Why exhaust myself to something that's going to take a whole lot of time pleasing someone else when I could just do whatever?" You sniffed at Sero, his cologne smells good. "Besides, if I do become like first all the time, he'd want me to maintain it so.."

"So tío is hard to please?"

"Used to be, now I call him out. And he's soft on me."

"You're a daddy's girl."

"I am."

"Oh. . . so like, you can call me daddy— ow! You smack like you're doing a spike on a volleyball. Sadist." He studies the expression on your face, and tentatively asks, "you feeling better?"

You press a quick kiss on his cheek. "Yeah."

---

AN: I wanted to write angst so why am I writing fluff. Really sorry if this doesn't resonate with your family dysfunction. I usually make reader's backstory vague as possible.

---

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#hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x you #hanta sero x y/n #sero x y/n #sero x reader #sero x you #sero fluff #sero hanta x y/n #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #hanta sero headcanons

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jenomark · 3 years

Note

Nct / wayv reaction when you suddenly kiss them when you're drunk 🙏

Taeil: You were both drunk but acted like the alcohol didn't affect you. Sitting next to Taeil, you arm hair brushing against his, you felt blissful. "Do you want to play a game?" he asked, his glossy eyes on yours. Hanging out with him on Friday nights, just drinking wine and sitting at his kitchen table, was fun without the random card games. You just liked being in his presence, feeling the full effect of your feelings for him. Feeling fantastic, you took his hand in yours and brought it to your lips. You kissed his soft skin and said," No, we could just talk." The realization of what you had done slowly sunk in but, like everything else, Taeil pretended it didn't happened.

Johnny: "You're drunk." he said, grinning. You were seconds away from stamping your foot on the floor and claiming that you had hardly had much to drink, when your equilibrium was thrown off, and you swayed in place. "See," he said, pointing. "You should get some rest." Johnny was openly smirking and teasing you, which lit a fire underneath you that not even his handsome face could put out. You went into the corner beside the cabinets, brought out a tiny step stool and placed it in front of him. From there, you climbed onto it, your eyes level with his, and you kissed his lips. " Oh, I might be a little drunk, too." Johnny breathed, his sweet breath blowing back into your face.

Taeyong: He was bundled up head-to-toe, a beanie on his head, and a scarf wrapped around his neck several times. Everything on him was cold, except for his hand, which was nesting firmly in yours. You walked on, the twinkling lights of the city lulling you both into a sense of comfort. Being with Taeyong, especially like this, made long, cold nights more bearable. "Are you still tipsy?" he asked, stopping. In your mind, you saw the wine you had both shared at dinner, could picture it sitting in the bottom of your empty stomach. You nodded, facing him with an affectionate smile on your face. The warmth of the alcohol spread across his cheeks, or, maybe, it was from the biting wind. "You have something on your face." you said. Instinctively, Taeyong's hands reached up to touch his face, but your lips beat him to it. When you pulled away, shy Taeyong was staring back at you. "You're so cute." he said.

Yuta: In the quiet of his room, the thrum of the alcohol pumping through your veins was deafening. Yuta was watching you with a curious look, his eyes seeming to ask if you were brave enough. It was strange to know that you had his approval for the kiss before you had went through with it, and stranger still, that Yuta looked terrified. You went slow, kissing up along his bare arm, his warm skin flushing pink as you went. He was waiting patiently for you to find his lips, for you to snake your way up his smooth shoulder and kiss him like he'd never been kissed before. "I don't think I can wait anymore." he whispered. So, you closed the gap and found his lips earlier than you wanted, kissing him with so much passion that you could feel it in your toes. Though expected, Yuta gave a small shake, like there was an electric current running through his body.

Kun: "And press this key." Kun said. Even if you wanted to press it on your own, Kun's hand was on top of yours, and he was guiding you along. In his alcoholic forgetfulness, he seemed not to notice. You let him guide you, your fingertips touching the keys on his keyboard so lightly that you wondered if you were even touching them at all. Kun looked at your face, searching for the excitement he wished to find there. "Doesn't it sound beautiful?" he asked, adding, as if you didn't understand, "The music." You nodded, the expression on your face as clear as day: you were head over heels in love with him. You didn't remove your hand from underneath his, you just leaned in to kiss him, catching him by complete surprise. Before you could even breathe, Kun cupped your face and kept kissing you.

Doyoung: In your drunken mind, everything made sense. You loathed Doyoung, so the only thing left to do, was to kiss him. That will show him, you thought. You marched across the party, ignoring the warning signs from Taeyong in the corner, and you planted yourself firmly in front of Doyoung. He was nursing his own drink and looking at you with the contempt you felt. You couldn't remember what the old saying was, was it that revenge is best served cold? Hot? You had no idea. "What do you want?" Doyoung asked, trying his best to puff out his chest and appear confident. You started to speak but found out that you had nothing to say other than, "I want you." You kissed Doyoung then, your mouth sloppily gluing itself to his. Rather than push you away, Doyoung kissed you back, leading to a very steamy make-out in the middle of the room.

Ten: You came in from a night out with your friends, as drunk as can be, and one thing on your mind. As you tried kissing Ten, he moved away from you. "Not while you're drunk." he said. "Come on, let me tuck you into bed." You were tired, however, Ten had never looked sexier. You wanted to kiss him, to hold him and make love to him. Sensing that you were going to try and kiss him again, he jumped over the back of the couch. Your shoulders fell. "Don't you want to kiss me?" you asked. Ten stood his ground from a few feet away and said, "I always want to kiss you, but not when you can't consent." You put your hand on your hips, even your drunk mind understanding that it wasn't necessarily right. Still, you pouted. "But I wanted a kiss goodnight." From across the room, Ten kissed his fingers and sent the flying kiss in your direction, all the love on his face very sincere.

Jaehyun: Kissing him felt so good that you didn't want to stop. The taste of him was so warm and inviting, and every nerve in your body wanted to feel it everywhere. It was Jaehyun who broke the kiss, his conscious making it clear that he couldn't allow it to go further. You thought he would be angry that you went in for the kill, but he was smiling so brilliantly that you went in for another kiss. Jaehyun placed his finger against your lips before you could and said, "How about we get you home safely, so that you can sleep this off?" It was simple, but effective. Rather than going in for another kiss, you took the hand that Jaehyun held out to you, and let him lead you back where you lived, the taste of him still on your lips.

WinWin: You stared longingly at the empty bottles of wine on the table, and then at WinWin texting on his phone. "I should probably head off to sleep." you said, your body perking up when your roommate WinWin looked in your direction. He looked so pretty in the soft light, his features most likely enhanced by the alcohol you had shared. "Me too." he said, stretching so that his shirt raised a few centimeters to reveal his stomach. You both made a move to get up, laughing awkwardly as you did. Without really knowing what to say, you nodded at WinWin, leaned in, and planted a goodnight kiss right on his forehead. The horror at what had taken place hit you as soon as your lips left his skin. "Well, goodnight." you said, your eyes growing wider and wider. WinWin was smiling so big that it began to ease the panic. "Goodnight," he said. "Maybe when you're sober, you'll aim for the lips."

Jungwoo: You were both drunk, both clinging to each other, singing-well, shouting- a song that you heard earlier. Jungwoo was a lot taller than you, his big body swaying so much that you were convinced he was going to make you both topple to the ground. But he sturdily clung to your arms, his joyful face coming inches closer to your face. All you could see was his lips and how full they looked. So, you kissed him and watched him reel back in surprise, his full lips quivering. Without thinking about it for too long, Jungwoo leaned in to kiss you back, but ended up knocking his head into yours. Pain was all you felt when you collided, both from the pain of the collision and from the embarrassment. You stared at each other solemnly before bursting into a fit of giggles, the sound ringing in the night without care.

Lucas: "I can't find it!" Lucas shouted, though you were standing behind him. He was searching in the closet, using his height to search the top of the closet, his big hands knocking things over. When he turned back around and saw you standing there, he jumped and laughed and said, "I can't find it." You told him it was alright and pushed him into the closet, closing the door behind you. You turned off the light, robing you both in darkness. All you could hear was Lucas' breathing. You could smell his heavy cologne and how it intoxicated you more than the alcohol did. You placed your hand on his chest to steady yourself and find him in the dark, and then you kissed him. It was very brief, for Lucas had grabbed your shoulders and told you he couldn't kiss you when you weren't right in the mind.

Mark: The rest of the 127 members were being noisy, but it still felt like only you and Mark in the room. His eyes drifted to your mouth, hovering there for a few seconds before staring into your eyes. You spent too much time on Mark's birthday getting drunk and wishing he was brave enough to be the one to kiss you first. Realizing that you weren't going to get the other members to be quiet, and you certainly weren't going to get them to vacate the room, you tipped your body over the table, grabbed Mark's white t-shirt and pulled him until his lips met yours. The room grew quiet, only erupting into hollers when you let Mark go. As they made a fuss, you watched him grow shy from across the table, your eyes now making it known that you were staring directly at Mark's lips.

Xiaojun: He wasn't immune to first date jitters. He knew the first kiss was coming soon, and he would be expected to perform, which made the lump in his throat seem to swell more. You could say that you were equally nervous, but you liked Xiaojun a lot and very much wanted to kiss him. "I've been drinking. " he said. "I don't think it's going to be good." Him explaining himself made you feel giddy. "I've been drinking too, remember?" you said. You looked at each other for a beat too long, before you took a deep breath and just did it. Kissing Xiaojun, drunk or not, was every bit as amazing as you thought it would be. His lips were timid but receptive. He was gentle and eager, something you were thrilled by. When you parted, a first successful kiss under your belt, Xiaojun punched the air in excitement.

Hendery: When he was drinking, Hendery liked to talk. He would gear up for lengthy speeches, brushing his long hair from his face, the same face that was shaded with twinges of pink. You watched him wave his arms around, his words going in one ear and out of the other. You thought about how handsome he looked, the effect of alcohol, no doubt, getting to your brain too. "Don't you agree?" he asked, swinging his attention towards you. "They don't care about us, they never did. They-" Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed Hendery hastily. He kept trying to speak, but you kept on kissing him, each kiss becoming longer than the last. "I'm sorry," you said, keeping your eyes closed a moment longer. "You were saying. " Opening your eyes, you could see that Hendery was too stunned to speak anymore.

Renjun: "I want to ask you something." you said, cornering Renjun. He lowered a cup from his lips, the alcohol inside sloshing around. He thought it would have been better to just drink it and avoid the conversation he felt was coming. "Do you want to know if Mark likes you back?" Renjun asked. "He does like you. So, you're free to go after him, if you want." Confused, you looked at Renjun and asked, "Who is Mark? I don't know him, but I wanted to ask you if you would mind if I kissed you right now." Completely shocked, Renjun nearly dropped his cup on the ground. "I'm drunk right now." you continued. "But, Renjun, I've liked you for over half a year." Renjun blinked and could only nod. You stepped forward and kissed him, your fingers tucked under his chin. Pulling away, Renjun blinked again, before breaking out into a grin that made your heart dip into your stomach.

Jeno: Your shaking hands made it more difficult to take the photo, so Jeno took your phone from you. Placing his cheek against yours, he held the phone up high, his still thumb hovering over the button. Seeing you smile, he pressed the button and took a picture. "What do you think?" he asked, holding it up for you to see. "I think we look cute." You were both drunk out of your minds, but you were the unstable one. The picture looked fine, but you weren't staring at that. Jeno's lips were inches away, the only sign that he had consumed alcohol at all was in the way he couldn't stop smiling. Jeno was always a happy drunk, which made it that much easier to simply kiss him. You and Jeno made out, only really moving away from each other when Jeno raised your phone up high again and took a picture of you kissing each other.

Haechan: "I want you to be my first kiss, Donghyuck." you said, staring at Haechan. He was just as drunk as you were, but you could hardly tell, since he was so relaxed. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep calm. You thought he would immediately shut you down, but Haechan looked amused by your request. He came and sat in front of you, licking his lips and smirking with pleasure when he saw how you had responded. You were moving around where you sat, not knowing where to put your hands. "Close your eyes when I kiss you, I'm shy." he said. You closed your eyes. He closed his eyes, too, but you opened your eyes up and found his lips, delighting in the slight surprise jolt Haechan made with contact. "That's naughty." he said, between kisses. "I like it."

Jaemin: He was clingy when he was drunk, which was fine by you. You liked seeing that side of Jaemin, the one who didn't care what people around him thought, the one that looked at you like you were the only person in the whole world who understood him. Jaemin nuzzled his nose against yours, your body jerking back slightly as his top lip grazed yours. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't you want to kiss me?" You wanted to tell him that, of course, you did. There was never a time in your life when you hadn't wanted to kiss Na Jaemin. Rather than shy away, you stepped forward in your drunken bravado and kissed him right on the mouth. Jaemin grunted in approval as your hands found their way underneath his shirt, your fingertips scratching down the ridges of his abs.

YangYang: "You don't like me very much, do you?" YangYang asked. It was less of a question and more of an observation. Yet, you couldn't help but answer it, anyway. "I do like you." you said. You took a sip from your cup, realizing that the liquid was disappearing faster than you meant it to. YangYang flipped his empty cup upside down and fixed you with a look that, for some reason, made your blood boil. "I do like you." you said again, your eyes narrowing slightly. YangYang held out his arms and looked around, as if addressing a crowd, that a coward was in their midst. "Prove it." he said. You were astounded, unsure of what action to take. When all thoughts failed, you got up and walked to the other side of the table, plunking down beside YangYang. You kissed him, as if the kiss itself would explain that you liked him more than he thought. YangYang clapped, as you pulled away. "Maybe one more time," he said. "I didn't feel like you meant it."

Shotaro: He clicked his bottle of beer against yours and took a long drink, his eyes appraising you over the bottle. You never loved the taste of alcohol, especially beer, but you liked the feeling that wrapped itself around your body like a warm hug. Also, drinking with Shotaro was one of the few pleasures you enjoyed in life. "It's good." Shotaro said, looking at the label. His lips were glistening with beer and, feeling unlike yourself, you leaned in a little closer to watch a bubble of spit pop on his bottom lip. "Yeah." you said, not remembering what you were agreeing to. "Ro, you're really handsome." Shotaro smiled and broke out into laughter, his face lighting up. Watching you lean in closer, as if in a trance, his jolly expression was replaced with lust. You kissed him and he allowed it, letting out a moan as you bit down on his lip.

Sungchan: You walked up to him, closing your eyes tight, your throat practically bursting with the words you'd held in for months. "I really like you, and I think about kissing you all of the time. I don't know if it's because you're tall, funny or you have the sweetest smile. Or maybe it's because you're a good person and you care about others, but I think about kissing you all the time. I know I've said that twice now, but it's the truth. And I've had a little bit to drink, but I am not drunk." When you finished speaking, you opened your eyes to see Sungchan's shocked face. "I like you, too. "he said, quietly. Feeling like you were on a roll and couldn't stop, you marched right up to him, got on your tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. You could feel Sungchan's lips wanting to smile, so you parted and let him smile big enough to make you swoon.

Chenle: Like they were a moving target, you zeroed in on his lips. Your eyes followed the way his lips were moving, and how his pearly white teeth would bare themselves, and you couldn't help smiling back. Chenle was talking to you, but you didn't hear a single thing he had to say. You kept your eyes on his soft, pink lips and leaned in to kiss him, your lips puckered and ready. Chenle was more clever than you and had time to pull away before you did something you might regret. "Maybe tomorrow." he said. "After you've had a nice nap and thought about it some more." You felt disappointed by the lack of his lips on yours, but Chenle's perfect smile attacked you some more, making you lose all thoughts about the failed kiss.

Jisung: You kissed him and the world started to spin a little faster, your heartbeat zooming around in your chest. Jisung touched his wet lips with his fingertips, a look of disbelief flashing across his handsome face. He looked at you, his eyes searching your eyes for answers, but you were busy smiling off into the distance. He screwed his face up in innocent confusion, before letting his mouth relax into a small smile that reclaimed your attention. "You just kissed me." he said. Slowly, his smile began to falter when he realized that you were very intoxicated, not sober, and you might not have meant it. "We shouldn't." he said, waving you away with his hand. " Let's just talk. I'll sit up with you until you fall asleep."

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quackiseok · 4 years

Text

— sweet dreams

feral boys x gn! reader || headcanons

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing

summary : the feral boys' reaction to you falling asleep in their embrace or on them!

a/n : AYY HELLO!! i'm so sorry for the lack of content these last three days OTL but here's something i wrote, hope you guys liked it! ♡

song to listen to while reading :

— DREAM

let's say dream has just finished recording for his upcoming manhunt video and it was a chilly night

well, the solution? a gun CUDDLES!!! ♡

he's a sucker for cuddles and you love cuddling with him too, so why not?

the two of you plopped yourselves on the bed, warm blankets wrapping the two of you together

the first plan was to watch a movie, but the two of you ended up talking to each other and leaving the movie unwatched

he share many stories with you, letting you rest your head on his chest whilst listening to him. he would also put an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm and close to him 🥺

as time passes by, it was getting late. you felt really safe around dream, especially if you were in his embrace

your eyelids grew heavier each time you tried fighting it off and focus on dream's voice, which leads to you unconsciously falling asleep on his chest

after a few seconds talking, dream would realize your sleeping figure in his embrace and OHMYGOD

HE WANTS TO FREAK OUT SO BAD BECAUSE HOW CUTE YOU WERE—

lowkey scared that he might somehow crush you or something because you're the tiny little spoon in the current situation

man, he had to refrain himself from taking a picture of you sleeping in his embrace

and the fact that you felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms makes him tear up (in a positive way!) 🥺

would slowly move you to a more comfortable position and carefully pull you closer to his chest, making sure that he doesn't wake you up

[hugs you tightly]

ALSO just like any other times, mans would secretly mark the date in his phone's calendar because OHMYGOD????? this date better be stamped on history books

after getting into a slightly more comfortable position, dream would just adore you— even only from looking at you, his serotonin level will always go 📈📈

would 100% whisper i love you's or other sweet words while looking at you

mans just smiling to himself, thinking about how much he loves you and adores you— and how lucky he is to have you in his embrace 🥺💞

after some time, he would start to drift away too and ending up sleeping while hugging you tightly in his arms 🥺

— GEORGE

the two of you were sleepyheads

like at the weekends? both you and george would just lazily lay on the bed and fall asleep together regardless what time it was

even at noon? NAP TIME

and today was one of those lazy days

you were laying your head on his lap, which leads to him to his habit of playing with your hair while joking around with you and talk about random things

he just absolutely adores your fluffy hair 🥺

he'd also learn how to braid hairs from youtube just so he could braid yours 🥺

AND SURPRISINGLY HE'S SO GOOD AT BRAIDING HAIRS 💞💞

the way he caressed your head was so comforting, which leads you to feel sleepy. you still wanted to talk with george so you tried fighting off the sleepiness but ended up falling asleep anyways

after not hearing a respond from you, he realized you fell asleep.

WAIT, YOU FELL ASLEEP ON HIS LAP AND THE WAY YOU LOOKED SO ADORABLE SHOULD BE ILLEGAL—

a blush crept up on his cheeks as he looked at your sleeping figure on his lap

ohmygod he absolutely adores this and 100% would plan more sleepy days with you just to see you fall alseep on his lap again

george would admire you shyly, his fingers still softly caressing your hair while making sure not to do it too hard since he doesn't want to wake you up 🥺

he looks at you > gets shy from how adorable you are and how much he loves you > look away > missing looking at you > back to the first step (put this cycle on repeat)

GOSH he just wants to pull you close to his embrace now but that's not possible to do since he doesn't want to wake you up ;(

as he secretly admires you, he would slowly feel sleepy too but he doesn't want to move you away from his lap

so this man right here decided to just sleep in a sitting position which he didn't mind too much since he could still lean his back on the stacked pillows

come on— he doesn't wanna ruin this adorable moment :( it's worth the back pain according to him 👍

and so with that, the two of you fell alseep peacefully 🥺💞

— SAPNAP

mans a whole ass tease @ you

mf would browse through hundreds of websites and collect the cheesiest jokes he can find to use them on you later 😳

also won't stop clinging on you for 24/7 but you don't mind since he's so adorable 🥺💞

and today was just the same like any other days, he clung on you and begged you to cuddle with him

how can you refuse such a sweet offer????

so here you are now laying on the bed with his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to him

the two of you would just joke and laugh at many things, just havin' a wholesome fun time 🥺

don't forget the fluffy blankets around the two of you (you adore soft blankets so sapnap bought you at least 3 blankets and you absolutely loved all three of them 🥺)

until at one point everything felt so comfortable that you didn't even realize you were drifting yourself to sleep

and the moment sapnap realized you fell asleep sweetly in his embrace?

[!(-?#?2@&&????? SCREAMS???? —NO, MAKE THE SCREAM SILENT SO IT WON'T WAKE YOU UP]

he can't help but let out a soft chuckle when saw your sleeping figure

oh man, he was gripping on the pillow tightly so that he doesn't lose control and pull you closer to him which could wake you up

100% gonna make you cuddle with him everyday until you fall asleep on him (mans just making it a routine now)

he would also have to refrain himself from squishing your cheeks while looking at you in awe 🥺💞

even though he's growing sleepy too, he won't give in so easily

like— hello??? a cutie pie just fell asleep in my arms, sleep can wait 🖐🖐

but then eventually he'll fall asleep anyways, but he swore he tried his best keeping his eyelids up and that's sweet 🥺

((would 100% unconsciously pull you closer and just hug you tightly in his sleep ♡))

— QUACKITY

we all know how much alex LOVES driving and mans really good at it (he knows what he's doing fellas)

especially with you 😳😳

the two of you would blast banger songs together while enjoying the road and the pretty view from the window 🥺

it was one of those afternoons again where the two of you went for a stroll with his car

both you and alex planned on only going for a short stroll, but ended up strolling around for almost 3 hours now

but neither of you cared, alex loves spending lots of time with you and same goes with you 🥺💞

the two of you wanted to get some fresh air for a bit after such a long drive, so you stopped by at the nearest field before driving back home

and man, the view was indeed beautiful

the two of you had moved to the back seat so he can get closer to you

as the two of you talked while watching the sun setting down, you started feeling a little bit sleepy

you shrugged it off at first and continued to talk with alex, but then you couldn't help but fall asleep with your head leaned on his shoulders eventually

and when he realized you has fallen asleep on his shoulders?

OH MY— HIS HEART WENT BRRRRRR BECAUSE OF HOW CUTE YOU ARE

definitely will plan on doing this in the furture but at home so he can just adore your sleeping figure for as long as he wants to

he has to drive back home but this moment is very important so he chose to stay there for at least the next 1 more hour 🥺💞

he just wants to kiss you on the forehead so bad but he's scared that he might wake you up :[

but then again, it was getting really late and he has to drive the two of you back home so he would carefully make you lay down on the back seat and he would put his jacket underneath your head as a pillow 🥺💞

and when the two of you arrived back home, he would carefully carry you back in and just cuddle you up for the rest of the night until he falls asleep too ♡

— KARL

karl jacobs has 2 moods : the wholesome mood and the cursed mood, no in betweens

he can either be very wholesome and send you the cutest hamster pics ever or just send you cursed, unexplainable images like macaronis boiled in gatorade

but even though he's in the cursed mood, his clinginess for you will stay the same ♡ (which you absolutely loved)

you loved both of his moods anyways since it's sweet and funny 🥺💞

today, he was feeling extra wholesome so he would just chill with you on the sofa in your matching frog hoodies and your head on his lap

((yes, he bought matching frog hoodies with you at christmas to wear them together 🥺👉👈))

the two of you would be watching cartoons, especially adventure time!! (it's superior cartoon, you can't change my mind)

then as time passes by, you felt your eyelids grew heavy but you tried fighting it back

yeah, you ended up falling asleep at the end 😔

karl noticed how you grew silent and when he checked on you only to see you sleeping on his lap?

yeah karl's never gonna leave his seat, 100%

mans just smiling to himself from looking at how cute you are in your oversized frog hoodie, asleep on his lap 🥺

GOSH this better happen frequently in the future because if not? he'll commit ARSON

he would try softly play with your hair, making sure his touches were soft so he doesn't wake you up

the cartoon is now long forgotten, his focus is just full on the sweetheart sleeping on his lap 🥺💞

he would constantly check on you and pull the blanket back up to your body if it moves back down, and make sure that he doesn't shift his legs too much because it might wake you up :(

will also try his best to not fall asleep because MAN, HE CAN'T JUST SKIP THIS HISTORICAL MOMENT

but he fell asleep anyways after holding back for around 40 minutes, which is impressive 😳

just like george, he doesn't mind falling asleep in a sitting position 👍 backpain = worth it

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the-little-ewok · 3 years

Note

From Strike Three where Poe "teaches" her to fly before he starts questioning her about her "dreams"??? I need to know

Thank you for the request. I had so much fun writing this. I hope you love it.

@salome-c As you know you both sent very similar requests so this is part 1 of your request combined.

Strike Three - Flying Lesson - From a certain point of view

Poe Dameron X Reader (Oneshot) Rating: M Word count : 2200 (ish) Warnings: Sexual content (non explicit); fluff; friends to lovers Summary: This is a rewrite of the flying lesson from Strike Three for the Certain point of view ask game.

We take a look into Poe's thoughts as he teaches you to fly but his mind isn't quite on the lesson…

(This is written from Poe's POV with reader insert)

----

Poe slides himself into the seat behind you, placing his legs on either side of yours as you shuffle around. He's gone back and forth about this all night. Teaching you to fly was one thing, but what your roommate said will not stop jumping into his mind. We are just friends. It was just a joke. He reminds himself for the thousandth time. It didn't matter that he'd started to fall for you, or already had. Poe couldn't ever quite remember when it started, the feeling that you could be more than friends, that he wanted you to be more. He'd never told you about it. He probably never would have... until now.

Now the thought is there, continually stamping loudly into his mind. What if? What if you felt something for him? What if you weren't asleep. What if you thought about him the same way he thought about you? He needed to test the waters, push your buttons just a little. It wouldn't hurt. You probably wouldn't even notice because you were so excited about the flying lesson. This way, you would both get what you wanted. He'd teach you to fly, and he'd get answers.

"This button," Poe sighs, pointing out the correct button on the other side of the console from where he knows you were looking. He's been able to see what you've been doing perfectly fine, but this is only going to work if he presses your buttons properly, and to do that he has to be close to you.

When you don’t respond to his reproach, he continues in the same impatient tone, "Right. Think you can find the Accelerometer or shall I point that out, too?"

It comes out much harsher than he means it to; he's too damn distracted by the way your bodies are pressed together. You're trying. He knows you're trying, and he kicks himself for not having more patience with you. None of this is your fault. It's not your fault he's tired from having been up all night, that he's wound up and worried, that he's desperately trying not to think about the way your body fits so well against his chest.

"Hey, be nice! I'm trying! You've been so freaking grumpy the past few days! You need to get laid."

That almost breaks every resolve he has, and Poe has to fight down the urge to reply, preferably by you! Taking a deep breath, he tries to concentrate on what you're here for. Flying lessons. Flying lessons that he's terrified to give you. Because he can't bear the thought of losing you out there, especially the thought of losing you because of his own actions. Losing you because he taught you to fly. You'd spent weeks continually asking him if he would teach you, and he knew you weren't going to give up. You're tenacious like that, but he hoped that he could put it off long enough for the war to be over. He'd have happily taught you everything he knows after that. But of course, either way, he was always going to give in. He would give you the galaxy if it made you happy.

"Okay, don't hold it too tightly. You just want to cup it gently then your other hand on the flight stick."

He can push you, just a little. He can teach you to fly and test the waters as long as he's careful, as long he's subtle. His hands cover yours, enjoying your soft skin against his more calloused fingers, wishing to himself he could hold your hands in his more often.

"Light touches. You want to be able to move your hands. X-wings are made to be agile. You only need a soft touch to get them to obey."

Like you, he imagines.

He's known you for long enough to know what you would probably like. He thinks he could get you to obey with nothing but a soft touch, a few well placed words, a gentle command. I could give you everything you crave. He swears he hears you swallow hard, so he decides to push just a little more.

"Now just push forward slowly, you don't wanna give her too much all at once, just ease a little at a time to get her going before you go full force,” he murmurs in your ear.

He'd take things gently with you at first until you're ready for more, until you're practically begging for more. The temperature in the X-Wing only seems to be rising with every passing minute, and he knows he won't be able to do this for long. You're too damn close. You're too damn warm and soft. He can smell the scent of your shampoo as he whispers softly in your ear. Being so close to you, with the thoughts of you whispering his name in your bunk, is too much.

"You'd feel a bite if we had the engine on. You need to wait for it to pull back a little. It won't be much. It'll be gentle, but there. Just a little nip."

He'd love to nip at your flesh right now. Give just a little bite to your neck. For a split second, he considers going all in and doing it. He can play it off as a joke. You wouldn't be suspicious if he did. But he won’t do it. He doesn't want to push you too hard. Although, now that he thinks about it, he's never heard you this quiet or attentive. Maybe it's just that you're concentrating on the flying, but he's also aware of the heat of your skin, the way your fingers are twitching against the controls as he speaks. You'll put a stop to it soon. You must know what he's doing by now, nudging you in a direction you might not want to take, whispering things that could be construed in so many ways. You'll probably be mad about it, and that will hurt him, but you'll get over it. You're not good at being angry with him. You've never been able to stay mad. Poe knows your friendship can survive it, survive the awkwardness of it. His heart can survive the break, as long as he can keep you somehow. Or so he hopes.

"Take your left hand and find the button for the commlink."

Your head turns, so he stops you, knowing you're going to need to learn to see the controls in your mind before he takes you up in the air.

"No, look forward. You need to see where you're going at all times. Eyes forward. You need to learn to feel them with your hands without looking."

Allowing you a moment to try, he watches you fumble around the buttons. It almost makes him want to laugh at your adorable slapping of the console, but he knows you will think he's not taking this seriously. And he is. He's taking this whole situation very seriously. He gives you a moment longer before taking pity on you.

"Take your time. Feel around each button. Get to know it. The shape. The texture. How hard you need to push."

Reaching out, he grabs your hand and presses it down gently on the console, guiding your fingers around the edge of the buttons, letting you get used to the shape and the texture before pressing down gently.

I could touch your skin. I could press your buttons this way. I could get to know what you like. How hard to push. This could be you under my fingers. It's on the tip of his tongue. He’s so tempted to throw out the offer and see what you say, but he doesn't. He can't. Because he doesn't know if he wants the answer.

"Not everything needs full force. Sometimes just a little pressure is all you need, sometimes a little more. Some buttons will be harder than others."

He's sure now that he can feel your heart hammering in your chest, and you're surprisingly silent for someone who can usually talk as much as he does. It only adds to his growing suspicions that maybe, just maybe, you hadn't been asleep. He tries to push down the growing feeling of need for you. The image of you splayed out in your bunk, fingers working yourself into a climax as you moan his name, sears itself into his mind. But it couldn't be that. You've never given him any indication of that.

But what if?

He tries to be a pilot first, to teach you properly, but you're so close to him. Your body is so warm, and your fingers are still twitching under his. All he can think about are the reasons you might have moaned his name in the dead of night, and none of those are things he should be imagining about his best friend.

When you suddenly shuffle your hips back against him, the moan that falls from his lips is completely involuntary. You're pressed up against him at just the right angle, and he can't help it. He freezes, his fingers tightening just slightly against yours, biting his lip so hard he almost draws blood to stop any further noises escaping. But it's too late, and pressed this close together, he knows you can feel his growing arousal. He feels you freeze the second you hear him.

"Poe?"

Hearing you say his name that way sends a stab of anxiety through his stomach, and he can't answer you. He has no idea what's about to come out of his mouth if he does. Do you think about me the way I think about you? Do you want me the way I want you? Can we be more? He can't get it out though. Because what if you don't?

"A-Are you… Okay??" You sound worried, and for a moment he regrets this whole thing. He feels bad about it now. In fact, he feels terrible about it. He's risking your entire friendship for a selfish desire to be with you. He knows this whole situation was unfair to you. He should have ignored the comment, let it go for what it was—just you talking in your sleep. It's driven him crazy all night thinking about it. And there's no way you'll drop it after this. There's no way back now. Whatever has happened here will always hang suspended between you. You'll know his feelings have changed. And he has to know yours.

"Your bunk mate told me yesterday that you say my name sometimes in your sleep."

Poe wonders if you can feel his heart banging against his chest the way he feels yours is. He is terrified of what is about to happen between you. Is this an end, or a beginning? Judging by the way your entire body stiffens, and you don't answer, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him in the way he hopes. You've shared rooms countless times, on missions, after nights out or just falling asleep accidentally in each other's company. It's always been that easy with you. He can just curl up next to you and let the world pass by without a care. But not once does he ever remember you making so much as a single noise in your sleep.

"I don't remember you ever talking in your sleep when we've shared a room."

Nothing. You still don't say a word. You don't move. Hope and desire mix in his belly. Poe knows you. If there was no truth in it, you'd be up yelling and defending yourself. Tentatively, slowly, he moves his hands to your legs, gently stroking the inside of your thighs with his thumbs in the way he's always wanted to do, for longer than he would ever admit. When you don't suddenly push him away, his confidence comes back, allowing him to push a little further. His lips ghost across your neck, leaning in just far enough to feel the heat from your skin and breathe in your scent.

"I don't think you were asleep. Were you?"

He needs you to say it. He needs you to admit that you think about him too—that there's a chance for something more between you. There's no going back for him now. You're smart enough to figure out where this is going, where it has been going the entire time. Poe places a solitary kiss to your neck, an offering of more. He waits, thankful that you don't bolt. If anything, you relax back into him, and he finally starts to feel the same ease he always has with you. Squeezing your thighs gently, he swipes his tongue down your neck, feeling you shiver. He can't wait to make you do that again.

"No. I wasn't."

When you breathe out that shaky response, it breaks every resolve Poe has. It shatters his worry that this whole thing is only on his side, and it gives him hope that there will be so much more than friendship in your future. With a groan against your neck, he tugs the collar of your shirt to one side, peppering soft kisses against your flesh, determined to show you how much he's wanted you, for longer than you'll ever know.

-----

Thank you for reading! For further reading related fics below:

Strike Three (original fic)

A Sincere Apology (loose sequel to this)

A Sincere Apology (Poe's POV spelling scene)

Masterlist

Beta by the lovely @the-scandalorian

Taglist : @fisforfulcrum ; @the-scandalorian ; @mypedrom ; @salome-c ; @zoriis ; @prettylilhalforc ; @pumpkin-stars ; @reenadreams ; @fett-ching ; @mbpokemonrulez ; @jitterbugs927 ; @lexloon ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mandorush ; @one-hell-of-a-disappointment

Requested from A certain point of view game

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron #star wars #from a certain point of view #fic request #poe dameron fluff #im really proud of this one guys

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sinswithpleasure · 3 years

Text

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 2] [Female Reader]

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

Hello! I'm back with part 2!

Futa!Yves x Fem Reader, just in case ya forgot.

If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!

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

Yves shows up on time for tutoring, to your surprise.

"Hey baby."

"Don't 'baby' me."

"Sure. Let's start."

"Alright. Open up the textbook. We're starting from the basics. I've printed out some of the prerequisites for this topic, since what you did last time wasn't up to standard due to lack of practice of the basics. Now…"

Yves listens attentively. In fact, things go a bit too smoothly for the both of you. Yves doesn't make any cheeky quip, pull out any pet names, or flirt with anyone that passes by. The womanizing playgirl you knew disappears, and in its place is a focused, dedicated young woman. Sometimes, you even find yourself staring at her work on the problems in front of her. The change is… welcome, to say the least.

Your eyes roam Yves's styled hair, swiped back to expose her forehead, down to her beautiful large eyes, button nose, and full lips.

God, you're gay. Sure, you're literally admiring the beauty of the most insufferable bane of the universe, but you're just so fucking gay and hot people are hot, no matter how irritating they are, so...

When your eyes shift back up, you're met with Yves's smirk.

"See something you like, babe?"

Fuck.

"N-no."

"Liar."

"Fuck off." You rush to change the subject. "How're you doing?"

"I've been done for a while. You would know if you weren't spending the time looking at me."

You refuse to dignify her with a response, checking through the solved problems. With your coaching, Yves manages to get two more questions correct as compared to last time, but she still makes some simple mistakes.

"Okay, here's the issue. In question two…"

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

Yves continues to show up for every tutoring session. Somehow, a week passes by, and it is now Friday.

"Good afternoon, babygirl."

"Don't 'babygirl' me. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Mm, whatever. How're you doing?"

"Why do you care?"

Yves pulls out the chair next to you, leaning back on it, resting her legs on the table. She turns to you, grinning.

"Of course I'd care! You're my tutor, and if you don't feel good, you won't be able to teach me properly. If I don't get taught, I won't learn, then I'll fail, and I don't get to win. You know that I always win."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's what you say, but not what you mean."

"Fuck you."

"That's what you'll be doing in five months' time."

"No I won't. Bring out the Calc textbook. We're going through Chapter 4 today."

"Alright, babygirl."

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

The change in Yves becomes apparent when she somehow is present earlier than you on Monday morning.

"Yves?"

"Oh, hey babe."

You sigh at the pet name, but having heard her call you that for quite some time now, it doesn't grind your gears as much anymore.

"Don't 'babe' me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Yves returns her attention to the papers she is working on, and the familiar math problems catch your eye.

"Calc?"

"Yeah. I promised I'll be the best student. Here I am."

"We'll see about that."

"You're looking at it right now." Yves rises from her chair, and in a flash, she has her arm around your waist, her face inches from yours. "I'm going to win, babygirl."

"G-Get off me!" Your face reddens instantly at the close proximity of your lips to hers. Memories of the chaste kiss Yves planted take front and center stage, and you can't help but look away from Yves.

"You're so pretty."

Yves has her gaze locked on your lips, then to your eyes. She is so close, too close, even. Heat flashes all over your body—every touch Yves leaves on you seems to burn.

"I mean it. You're gorgeous."

"T-Thank you."

The smug smirk never leaves Yves's face. She releases you from her smoldering gaze and grip, but she leaves you with a rapidly beating heart and a large distraction for the day to come.

When class begins, Yves tries to take the time to listen to the professor. However, she is soon back to her old ways, flicking paper balls at classmates and being on her phone more than she listens.

"Yves."

"Yeah, baby?" She meets your gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. Her hands carry on working on moulding another tiny paper ball.

"You're not listening."

"I am!"

"What was the last thing the prof said?"

"Um…"

You roll your eyes.

"Best student, my ass."

"I made that promise to you, not to him."

"You won't learn if you don't listen to him either. How're you going to be the best if you can't even do that?"

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"That's right." You think hard about the words you want to say next, but maybe… maybe it is worth the risk. After all, Yves is still the bane of your existence, but she could be less of that if she keeps up her effort in trying to learn.

"You don't get to fuck me if you're not the best."

You watch as Yves freezes. She stares at you, her jaw hanging, before she steels her gaze to your eyes, staring deep into your soul.

"So this is how you wanna play, babygirl?"

"Yeah." You can feel your bravado slowly disappearing.

"Fine. I'll listen. I'll play by your rules."

Yves leans to your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her deep whisper makes you shudder.

"You will be mine at the end of the year, baby. I promise you: I'll ace my exams, and you'll love me for it."

Perhaps provoking your seatmate wasn't the best idea. Now you have to deal with the deep flush on your face and neck, as well as the heat between your legs.

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

A month passes.

Every week, the same things go by—tutoring, classes, more tutoring, more classes. However, what changes is how close you and Yves get with each other. By no means were the both of you friends, but she isn't as much of a thorn in your side anymore.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Baby

I need a bit more help with the math from the last chapter.

Can I see you this weekend?

Saturday, 10am, Seoul U entrance?

[You sent a message:]

Sure.

I'll see you.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Good.

Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.

[You sent a message:]

Fuck off.

You groan when Yves manages to charm you through text. Outfit ideas are already flowing through your head, and you sink your face into the comfort of your palms. Why do you even care about looking pretty for Yves?⁶

Well… that genuine grin she flashed after a muffled gasp of surprise when you wore a dress once in the past month was gorgeous on her. That was why.

You remember Yves actually having the slightest hint of a blush when looking at you, and she seemed to be a little less flirty that day, opting to take short glances at you when she thought you weren't watching. This newfound attention was… welcome. You couldn't deny feeling shy having Yves check you out. After all, you were just the nerd girl in class, and having this attention from a hot girl you could consider a crush not as much of a pain in your ass felt so good.

-----

Saturday arrives, and here you are, waiting outside Seoul University.

You choose to keep things simple: just a simple button-down dress with daisies printed on the fabric. Your hair is tied up in a cute bun. The pink backpack you carry completes the look, with a nice pair of flats.

The sun isn't too bright, and a cool breeze keeps you comfortable while waiting. You can't help but get nervous, though you know it is irrational to feel so. After all, this is just another study session. However, Yves's text to you earlier in the week keeps flashing across your eyes.

'Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.'

You know this is just a study session. However, a part of you dimly wishes that it isn't, before you hurriedly bash those thoughts with a hammer and then set them on fire.

The revving of a motorbike catches your attention before it zooms down the road. You can see the bike move across the lanes, then slowing to a stop in front of you. The rider, clad in all black leather, complete with jacket and boots, seems to freeze in front of you, before slowly drawing the helmet off their head.

"Hey, babygirl."

Yves grins at you, her eyes sweeping over your body. Her gaze lands on your legs, moving up to your torso, your chest, and then to your eyes and hair.

The next words she mutters are meant to be kept to herself, but you hear her anyway.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Your heart takes off, pounding against your chest. You try to hide the flush on your face by staring at the ground, but you field a gaze to Yves, who looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She looks so handsome, so cool, and downright fucking hot at the same time.

Hmm… What would it feel like being pinned under her again?

The intrusive thought you have gets stamped out instantly, but the effect lingers—you can't help but check Yves out, feeling a rush of heat deep within your loins.

Her agreement with you was starting to look more and more appealing. Maybe you do have to teach her well.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Let's go. I gotta park the bike, and the cafe isn't close by. Get on."

Yves hands you a spare black helmet, and you hesitantly take it.

"Don't kill me."

"I won't." She grins. "I like you too much to think about doing that."

Your breath catches in your throat. It's not uncharacteristic of her to say things like that so easily, but maybe… just maybe… you want her to mean it.

You get onto the bike as Yves holds it steady. You don't know where to put your hands, but Yves grabs your arms, pulling them to wrap around her waist.

"Hold on tight, babygirl."

"Okay." You can't believe what's happening right now.

"I'm gonna go."

The engine revs.

-----

Yves trails behind you as both of you make your way to the cafe. Yves is quiet along the way, unlike her usual flirting if she caught you staring at her. When you glance back to her, you see her eyes dart away from you, staring at the floor as she swipes her hair back.

Weird.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Never been better, baby." Her reply is unconvincing, especially with a forced grin, but you don't want to really push her for a reply.

"Er… Okay. Sure."

Both of you make your way into the cafe, stopping by the counter to grab the menu. When you sit down at a table, Yves sits across you, her eyes locked onto you as you peruse your options.

"You're staring a lot today, Yves."

"Oh, um, er…" She looks away, her voice soft. This is very unlike her.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm feelin' great, ready to learn, and get good." She leans back, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair.

Oh.

She has a crop top on.

Oh my fucking God, she has abs.

You short circuit.

Two columns of defined muscle greet your eyes, as if to mock you. It wasn't like she was someone you didn't find hot. Now, you have to find out that she also has abs?!

Your mouth dries instantly, and you grab your bottle, taking a swig. The cool liquid quenches your physical thirst, but your mental thirst…

"Don't look too much, babygirl. You might get hypnotized."

Yves tilts your chin up with a finger, moving to lean close to your face.

"My eyes are up here."

Holy fucking shit, she's so fucking hot.

You wonder how you didn't notice them when she had that fishnet and crop top combo. Maybe her pants covered them, maybe you were blinded in your dislike for her. Whatever, you've seen them now. No reason to stop… respectfully staring, especially when you can.

"Look at me."

You meet Yves's smoldering gaze.

"Keep your eyes up here, babygirl." Her warm breath against your lips makes you yearn to lean in and close the gap. "I don't want them anywhere else when they're so beautiful."

You whimper involuntarily, and Yves chuckles.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?"

The shame that burns when you squeak and break your gaze to hide in the pretense of reading the menu is something you don't want to admit that you feel coursing through your veins, but it's there. When you lower the menu, Yves has her chin in her palm, her head tilted to the left, a satisfied grin on her features.

"I mean it, baby. You look really pretty today."

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's order, I'm starving."

"Okay."

"Oh." Yves leans towards you, lowering the menu to stare into your eyes once more. "You'll get to see what you want to see when I ace the exams. Be patient, babe."

You groan.

-----

That night, you toss and turn on the bed incessantly. Every time you close your eyes, you can feel hot breath across your lips, smell the scent emanating off Yves, and sense her burning gaze on you. Yves's handsome features are burnt deep into your head, and just the thought of her sends your heart pounding and temperature rising.

You think of her abs under her clothes, the defined muscle jumping out to your eyes. She already looks so good, so delicious, and yet, things only go up from here.

The rush of heat between your legs doesn't help things.

You turn again, ignoring your basest desires. Bedtime it is.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #loona yves #ha sooyoung #loona fanfiction #loona fanfic #female reader insert #female reader

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strsburn · 4 years

Text

a new look - b.barnes

pairing - bucky barnes x fem!reader

synopsis - in which you convince bucky to let you try something new with his hair, and the results are not what he was expecting

see also - how to celebrate a birthday with an 104 year old semi stable man.

notes; it's been way too long since i wrote anything so here's a little drabble and what better way than to write a little something for our favorite metal armed man

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Psst, Bucky."

A twitch of the nose is the only response you receive from the metal armed man who continues to sleep away, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

It almost makes you feel bad for disturbing the peace.

Almost.

"Hey, Buckaroo."

"Barnes."

"WiEnEr SoLdIeR"

For fucks sake.

With a sigh heavy enough to sink in your chest, you stand up from your crouched position and with all the strength you can muster you place your hands against him and shove, sending the man to the ground with a loud thud.

"What the actual fuck."

You grin at the familiar tone of anger, watching as Bucky rises dramatically the pattern of the carpet stamped into his face from his unfortunate meeting with it.

Not giving Bucky the chance to go on about 'respect your elders, back in my day-' you produce a small hostess chocolate cupcake with a singular candle in it from behind your back.

Immediately the anger washes away and is replaced with a confused frown as Bucky looks to you in question.

You roll your eyes in disbelief of how one could manage to forget their own birthday.

"Look at the calendar, old man. I put it there for a reason."

Bucky glares at you but does as told and you watch as his facial features contort from confusion, to excitement, bewilderment and lastly disbelief.

"You remembered?"

You just shrug and hold out the cupcake, watching as he goes to pick the candle out leaving you to protest.

"No! You have to make a wish first. It's tradition."

Bucky relents, closing his eyes for a minute before he reopens them and blows the flame out, immediately handing you the candle as he devours the sweet.

"Thanks doll. You didn't have to bring me anything though."

You wave it off and grin, the mischievous twinkle in your eye enough to have Bucky on alert.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing! Can't I just smile because I'm happy?"

Blue eyes narrow, waiting.

"...alright so I noticed your hair has been getting longer-"

"No."

"What! You didn't even let me-"

"No."

"Please i-"

"No."

"Please just let me trim it, we could even tie it up a little so it's not in your way when you train."

A pause, then.

"Fine, but you try any of that color dye stuff or whatever and I will kill you."

You beam, pleased and grab Bucky's hand dragging him to your bedroom with frosting stained fingertips.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Ouch, woman! Are you trying to leave me bald?"

"Oh, calm down. You've had your arm cut off and you're whining about your hair getting pulled."

Another glare this one more intent.

You try to smother a laugh as a multitude of hair ties hold Bucky's hair together so you can focus on a section at a time to make sure there isn't any split ends before you start trimming.

You can't help but find the man adorable as he sits looking completely dead inside while his hair stays atop his head in a cute display.

Discreetly reaching for your phone you silence the camera and snap a few pictures, unfortunately your giggling gives you away.

Blue eyes snap to you and narrow when they notice the phone in your hand.

In a split second you dance away as a metal arm reaches for your phone.

"No! Bucky please, I'm sorry. But you look so cute here." You plead, holding the phone to your chest.

You manage to catch a slight pink hue that covers his face and you gasp softly.

"Bucky, are you blushing?"

"What? No. You're delusional, just give me the phone." You both wrestle with it for a few seconds before you stuff the phone in your bra laughing as Bucky retreats, grumbling with red stained cheeks.

He returned to his seat begrudgingly as you silently trimmed away at his hair, resisting the urge to run your fingers through the soft strands.

"Hey Bucky, what did you wish for?" You ask after a few minutes of silence, hoping to ease the tension.

You feel Bucky tense a bit, his eyes glancing down as he hesitates.

"To spend every birthday like this."

You pause, your hand hovering in the air.

Did he mean, to spend time with you?

"What?"

Bucky lifts his head, a soft look in his eye and you flush under his stare.

"I'd look forward to my birthday more often if it meant getting to spend the day with you doll."

You grin, removing the scissors from your hands and leaning in to place a small kiss on his cheek.

"I have to say the same sarge, especially with your hair all dressed up for me." You tease.

"You know, it's kinda growing on me."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes birthday #happy birthday bucky #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fandom

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 22

Request: Yes or No

The outro for Endgame was real nice especially with all the Avenger actors at the end.

"We could always go back to Wakanda. Get a nice farm." Bucky said, shrugging lightly. You smiled softly.

"You haven't even taken me out yet." You crossed your arms, looking at him. Bucky grinned, metal hand going to your waist.

"Alright.. We're should I take you? A nice restaurant?"

"Surprise me, Ocean Eyes." You answered, grin widening. Buckys' brows raised slightly at the nickname, humming softly.

"Would it be too soon to..?" Bucky trailed off, head tilting with a playful expression. You placed a hand on the back of his head, pulling him close and kissing him. Buckys' froze, skin flushing. You giggled, pulling back and seeing his red cheeks. Bucky cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"What? Surprised?" You tilted your head. Bucky leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours and pulling you close. You heard whistles and chuckles, turning your head to look at Sam and Steve. Steve gave you a smile and a nod. You glanced down at the flowers that had bloomed at your feet, a small giggle leaving you.

"Hands to yourself, Barnes!" Sam called, arms crossing as he and Steve approached you and Bucky. Steve gave him a smile.

"Don't do anything stupid till I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." Bucky replied, smiling. He gave his best friend a hug, patting his shoulder.

"Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Steve shot you a wink. You chuckled, nodding.

"No worries. I'll keep them both out of trouble until you get back. I promise." You smiled softly. You glanced at Bucky, noticing the sad look in his eyes. You looked back at Steve as he climbed on the platform.

"Bucky, is he..?" You looked at Bucky with furrowed brows. Bucky stayed silent, nodding. Your lips parted, placing a hand on his arm.

"Oh." You made eye contact with Steve before he disappeared. Bruce looked over the controls when Steve didn't return.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, glancing at Bruce.

"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp." Bruce told him. Bucky let out a soft sigh, giving you a forced smile.

"Come on." You turned around with him, noticing a man sitting on a bench. Bucky noticed him too, squinting slightly as Sam and Bruce bickered.

"Sam." Bucky called, getting his attention. Sam looked over, approaching you and Bucky. His gaze landed on the man. You walked forward with the two, stopping some feet away.

"Go ahead." Bucky said softly, looking at Sam. It seemed like he had already made his peace with it. You gently rested your head against his shoulder as Sam walked forward. Sam and Steve quietly chatted before Steve handed the shield over to him. A smile spread across your face. Sam looked back at Bucky and got a nod in return. Sam picked it up, sliding it on his arm.

"He deserves it." You said quietly, watching them with a soft gaze. You looked at your phone, licking your lips.

"I actually have to go. Wanda wants me to go with her somewhere." You told Bucky, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

"Let me know about that date." You patted his shoulder. Bucky smiled, nodding.

"Will do, tiger." You chuckled at the nickname, walking away. You headed towards the facility, seeing Wanda waiting in a car. You went into a job, approaching the car and getting in.

"Hey." You breathed out, reaching over and hugging her. Wanda returned it, sighing. The hug lasted for a while before Wanda pulled back, sniffling.

"Sorry, I'm.." She shook her head, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan.

"It's okay, Wanda. I cried like a baby for 5 years and sometimes I still cry." You told her with a small smile. Wanda let out a soft chuckle.

"When does it get better?" She asked quietly, looking at you with watery eyes. You hummed, putting on your seatbelt.

"I'll let you know when it does." You replied. Truth be told, you expected the emptiness to go away once everyone had returned but it lingered, always weighting down on your chest. Wanda put the car on drive and drove away from the facility. You listened to the soft song playing on the radio.

"So.. Where exactly are we going?" You asked, turning your head to look at her. Wanda bit her bottom lip, staring forward.

"To get Visions body." She glanced at you. Your brows furrowed, head tilting.

"I thought Tony had him retrieved from Wakanda." You said, straightening up. Wandas' jaw clenched, head shaking.

"No, well, I don't know. I want him to have a proper funeral. Like Stark did. Natasha deserves one too, even if the casket is empty." Wanda said. You nodded, staring at the road ahead. All Natasha had gotten were some tears and a bench thrown into the sky.

"Yeah, I agree." You mumbled, sighing.

"Wanda, I'm.. I'm sorry. I should've made sure that his body-"

"I don't blame you. You lost me, Sam, Bucky, and your family all at once. I wouldn't have been able to handle it like you." Wanda said, glancing at you with a small smile. You gently reached out, touching her cheek. Wanda let out a shakey sigh, leaning into your touch.

"The organization is called S.W.O.R.D. I don't know what they want with him but whatever it is.. They don't need him. He needs to be put to rest." Wanda said softly.

"I know, Wanda. We'll find a way to do it." You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda returned it with a weak smile of her own. You looked down at the root bracelets, sighing softly.

"You don't have to put on an act for me." Wanda said softly. "I've known you long enough to know when you force smiles and try to be.. Happy. Sam notices it too."

"Maybe the fake happiness will morph into real happiness." You mumbled.

"What is grief, if not love persevering? Vis said that to me once while I.. While I was still dealing with Pietro passing." Wanda told you gently. You smiled softly.

"I miss him." You whispered, sighing. You noticed a building up ahead, straightening up. Wanda parked and got out of the war, the saddness replaced with determination. You followed her, entering the building. Your gaze flickered up to the videos of families being reunited after the blip.

"Wanda, slow down." You quickly sped up, matching her pace. Wanda approached the front desk.

"I need Visions body."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't allow you to-"

"Please, I need his body." Wanda stared at the man in desperation. You placed a gentle hand on her back.

"I'm sorry-"

"When I came back.. He was gone. His body.. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at the very least. I deserve it." You could feel Wanda tense under your hand. The man sighed before answering a call. Your gaze trailed upward, noticing a security camera. You gently drummed your fingers, getting Wandas' attention. She stared straight at the camera with a deathly glare.

"Alright.." The man put the phone down, looking at you and the redhead.

"Through the doors, down the hall, two lefts and a right." The man said. Wanda nodded, walking towards the doors.

"One minute, sir, you can't go in with her. Ma'am let me buzz you in-"

"He comes with me." Wanda called back, opening the doors with her powers. You gave the man a small shrug, following your friend. You ignored the glances from the workers, mumbling the directions under your breath. Wanda stopped infront of a door. You heard it beep, watching Wanda throw it open.

"Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) Barton.. It's an honour to meet you." A man stood up, walking around the table.

"I'm Director Hayward." Hayward introduced himself. You were wiring, brows furrowing as you turned your head towards the glass. Hayward noticed, clearing his throat and walking towards a glass door. He opened it, letting you and Wanda through. Your gaze flickered to what was below. At first, you were confused at the mess of wires until it clicked. Your brows relaxed, a breath leaving you.

"Oh." You whispered, earning a confused look from Wanda. She took a closer look, realization slowly washing over her. A soft grunt left you, staring at Visions' head. The person you onced called a friend was laying below you, dismembered and being torn apart.

"Stop.. Stop.." Wanda whispered, hands pressing against the glass. She whipped around to look at Hayward.

"Why are you doing this to him?"

"We're dismantling a weapon."

"Visions not a weapon. He couldn't hurt a fly." You muttered, looking at Hayward with a glare.

"You can't do this to him!" Wanda said with teary eyes.

"We're in our legal and ethical obligation-"

"I just want to bury him." Wanda breathed out. "That's it."

"Are you sure?"

"Excuse me?" You and Wanda said simultaneously. Hayward cleared his throat.

"Not everyone has the power that could bring her soulmate back online." Hayward explained. "Forgive me.. Back to life." He corrected himself.

"I can't do that." Wanda stared at him. "It's not why I'm here."

"Okay, but I can't let you take 3 billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground."

"Vision's not an 'it', asshole." You huffed, eyeing him.

"Sorry.. The best I can let you do is say goodbye to him here." Hayward said.

"He isn't yours, Wanda." Wanda stayed silent, jaw clenching. Her fingers touched the glass, staring down at Vision before making the glass explode. Hayward ducked, covering his face from the glass. Wanda lowered herself down into the room as guards entered. You turned your head to look at Hayward.

"You'd make Stark disappointed." You mumbled, looking back down. You used the air in the room to safely drop down into the room as Hayward called off his men. Wanda slowly approached Visions' body, looking him over. She hovered her hand over his head, a soft whimper leaving her.

"I can't feel you.." She whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. She placed her hand on his head, sighing softly. She turned towards you, sniffling. You wrapped an arm around her, walking towards the exit.

"I couldn't.. He wasn't there." She choked out, sobbing softly. You rubbed her arm, gently taking the car keys from her. Wanda sniffled as you walked towards the car. She went around towards the passenger seat, getting in. She stared up at the car roof, brows furrowing when she noticed a paper sticking. She pulled down the sun blocker, opening up the paper.

"What is it?" You asked softly, turning the car on and reversing out of the parking spot.

"A plan.. Vision wanted us to move and start over." Wanda said softly. You frowned, gaze softening.

"You can stop by the facility. I have somewhere else to go." Wanda said, glancing at you.

"Are you sure you want to be alone, Wanda?" You asked gently. Wanda nodded, letting out a dry chuckle.

"Wouldn't be anything new." You sighed softly. The drive back was silent but you didn't mind. Wanda needed space and time to deal with everything. You parked the car and got out, looking at her.

"I'll be in touch. We don't have to talk just.. Let me know you're okay and I'll leave it." You told her. Wanda nodded, arms gently wrapping around you. You hugged her back, sighing softly.

"Stay safe." You whispered.

"You too." Wanda pulled back, giving you a small smile before getting in the car. You watched her drive away, sighing softly.

"You alright?" You turned your head, seeing Sam. You smiled softly, nodding.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You stared at Sam. His features soften, brows raising in question. You could feel your eyes begin to water.

"He didn't look like Vision." You whispered, voice threatening to crack as you sniffled. Sam frowned, arms gently wrapping around you.

"Vision was nothing but a sweetheart. He didn't deserve it."

"I know, I know.." Sam gently stroked your hair, letting you cry into his chest.

"I'm sorry you've had to go through these past few years alone. I owe you one for taking care of Sarah and the boys." Sam said softly. You leaned back slightly, looking up at him.

"I couldn't leave her in the dark."

"Which is why I'm thankful." Sam gave you a gentle smile, thumb gently wiping away a tear.

"I missed you, Sam." You whispered, head resting on his shoulder. Sam rubbed your back, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm here now and I'm not going away. No matter how much Bucky complains. I have no issue thirdwheeling to annoy the fuck out of him." Sam said, grinning. You smiled, chuckling softly as you stepped back.

"Do.. Do you really like him?" Sam asked softly.

"I want to get to know him. He has a past and.. So do I. I don't know everything about myself so.. Our relationship will always be a work in progress while we heal and learn." You told him.

"You could always be with someone who doesn't have that much baggage."

"Like you?"

~~~~~~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

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cafeacademia · 3 years

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Love Between The Pages | Chapter 4 Finale

Blaise Zabini x Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Blaise slowly come to terms with the feelings that have been hanging in the air, along with the future of the book club.

Warnings: The tiniest dash of angst for about 0.1 seconds, boatloads of fluff.

Word count: Approx 2800

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A/N: Hi loves! Here is the final part of this series! Wow I was not ready for this to be over, I've found this series incredibly comforting to write. It took me a little while to write the last part purely because I just wasn't quite ready to end it yet, but I'm really really happy with how this chapter came out. Additionally, I'm really looking forward to writing more for sweet Blaise and I've been thinking about writing a few standalone pieces that might fit into this little universe. I'm not sure yet!! Let me know if you're interested. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this series, I am so SO proud of it, thank you so so SO much for reading it! 💕

It was a calm, quiet afternoon, the old loft windows in the library were pushed open and secured on their old latches, the smell of fresh air mixed with the ever cosy scent of wood polish and old books making it all the more delightful to spend time in the library. Sifting through your bag, you pulled out the books you needed to return to Madam Pince, wondering what you might pick up this week, deciding that it needed to be something special.

You clocked Theo walking in with Cho and Neville at either side of him, the three of them chatting quietly amongst themselves as they began to make their way across to the table you all usually sat at. Looking over towards them as you placed your books on the library check out desk, you realised that having him there had become normal. Having all three of the Slytherin boys in your group had become normal and you weren’t sure you really wanted it to end.

“All of you have been reading a lot of romance as of late.” Madam Pince observed as she slid the books across the desk so she could stamp the library slips inside of the covers. “It’s spring, it brings out the romance, doesn’t it?” You said, idly fiddling with the closure on your bag, missing the way Madam Pince gave you a knowing look. “I suppose it does.” She replied before stamping your library slip and handing it back to you.

Stepping across the library floor, you made your way through the rows of shelves, passing the tables of students chatting and studying quietly, some of them reading, others getting their homework done before the weekend. But as you continued towards the table near the back where the golden hour of sun glowed so beautifully across the deep chestnut hues of the furniture and the aged spines of books that were all positioned neatly on their shelves, you caught sight of him. Blaise.

You wondered if he hadn’t noticed you first, his eyes seemingly already on your approaching figure, his smile bright and lopsided, a sight you had gotten fast used to and yet did not want to lose so quickly in the matter of an hour. “There you are.” He said, stepping over towards you with a book in hand. “Here I am.” You smiled, looking up at him with a sweet smile on your lips, trying your best to conceal the way his smile and his voice made your heart leap.

You had not yet forgotten the way his hand had felt in yours just a week prior, the way he had brushed his fingers against yours and held you with such a gentle grip. Was it too much to ask for that again? To feel the fluttering of something akin to love in your chest or the light airy feeling of something new, something delightfully thrilling.

“What are you reading this week?” You asked quietly as he placed the book he had been looking at back on the shelf. “What would you have me read?” Blaise asked, watching as you pulled your bag off your shoulder and pulled out a chair to set it down on. “Me?” You almost gasped, sounding a little surprised by the question. “Well is there anyone else I’d ask for book recommendations?” Blaise teased, stepping a little closer to you and placing his hand on the back of the chair you had placed your bag on. Smiling shyly and struggling to meet his gaze, you giggled softly. “I suppose not.” You replied, shrugging off your robes to get more comfortable.

“Jane Eyre.” You suddenly said, looking up at him. “You should read Jane Eyre.” You added, awkwardly fiddling with your robes as you draped them over the back of your seat. “Is it romance?” He asked. You knew by now that he was very fond of romance, especially period romance and while it surprised you, it also warmed your heart to know he loved a genre you enjoyed too. “Yes, it’s a classic romance.” You replied. Blaise smiled. He always found himself gazing at you with an uncontrollable smile, it was impossible to keep his usually controlled demeanor in check around you. Perhaps it was your shyness that just seemed so sweet, or maybe it was your kind, gentle nature that made him inexplicably happy.

“Show me where to find it?” Blaise asked, holding out his hand for you. Glancing down at his hand, you felt your heart flutter. What if this wasn’t all a one off feeling between you, perhaps he too was immersed by lingering thoughts of love and attraction. “Of course.” You replied, gently placing your hand in his. Your touch was hesitant at first, his eyes capturing yours for a moment as he carefully grasped your hand in his. Blaise was gentle and soft, his touch just as exhilarating and sweet as the previous week and you felt your breath hitch in your throat before you met his eyes with an amative gaze.

Gently you closed your fingers around his hand and led him towards one of the many sections of muggle fiction within the library. As you both dipped between a couple of bookshelves, you watched as Hermione and Draco rushed in with Ginny in front of them, Hermione hissing at them both about how they were late and it was all Malfoy’s fault.

And while Blaise snorted at their antics, the two of you overhearing Hermione whisper yell as they all began to settle down at the nearby table, you trawled through the shelves in search of a copy of Jane Eyre, all while his hand held yours.

“Here it is.” You spoke softly, reaching up to grasp the copy, a soft dusty pink clothbound spine with a beautifully imprinted and silver embossed title. Blaise smiled at you as he gently took the book from you with his free hand, still holding onto you with the other. “Let me pick one out for you?” He asked, watching as you nodded, smiling rather uncontrollably. How was it that he knew just how to fluster you? All you needed was a sweet boy to hold your hand and talk to you about books and here Blaise Zabini was, doing those exact things and making it seem so romantic.

If only he knew how it made you feel. How he made you feel.

A soft, pale powder blue copy of Arabella was passed to you moments later. “Theo told me this was a good book.” Blaise said, watching as you smiled down at the book in your hands. “Did he now? I never thought Theo would be interested in Regency romance.” You mused, peering around the edge of the bookcase to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin sitting side by side with Neville, who now he seemed closer than ever with, along with Cho who seemed to have warmed up to him. You smiled, watching as Theo read a book over Neville’s shoulder. You managed to see which novel it was they were reading when Neville shuffled around a bit, revealing the lovely old illustrated cover of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

“Neither did I, but he seems to be full of surprises.” Blaise said softly as he leaned over you, his hand landing gently on your upper arm, the warmth of his presence behind you nearly melted you, nearly made you want to lean back into him. But you were not more than friends with the odd soft touch and longing gaze. In truth it felt as if it could be more, but knowing this was his last week that he would have to attend your book club, you were still unsure if this was something fleeting.

You found yourself perfectly comfortable beside Blaise as you read together in a comfortable chair, his arm resting over the back of the seat behind you while he held his book in the other hand. You tried hard not to lean into his side and you stayed comfortably close.

And while the bell tolled lowly in the background, signalling the turn of the hour, you still had hope that the boys might stay, because it truly would not be the same without them.

Getting up from your seat, you began to walk back towards the table, though you were stopped in your paces when you felt Blaise’s hand rest softly on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart.” Blaise’s low voice rolled through you, warm, sweet and yet there was an edge to it that scared you, that scared your heart. Turning in his grip, you faced him shyly, the sweet name he used for you making your chest warm and your thoughts hazy with adoration. Adoration that you quickly pushed aside. But it all seemed like a helpless attempt when Blaise reached up, gently brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek. You leaned into him, into his warm touch, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, breath hitching at the intimacy of the moment. And you looked up at him, eyes softening with something akin to fear and something deeper, something that looked as if it swam deep below the surface.

“What is it?” You asked, clutching the book tightly against your chest. “There’s something on your mind.” He prompted, watching as you looked shyly down at your feet. “This is all fleeting. You’ll leave and- this will have been no more than part of your detention.” You voiced your worry, somehow confident enough to let your feelings air, ones you had been hesitant to even acknowledge for several weeks now; though you still could not meet his eyes no matter how easy it had been to say the words.

There was a soft sigh, heavy swallow before his fingers gently lifted your chin. “You truly think I’d leave after all this club has brought me?” Blaise asked. “It’s much more than just books and an hour of reading in company each week.” He said. “It’s friendship,” Blaise tilted his head towards Neville, Theo and Cho. “And the way your club brought out the better in all of us.” He smiled softly, his eyes now on Draco as he read quietly with Hermione and Ginny, the three of them sharing the odd bit of chatter now and again. “And for me it’s something else. You make me feel,” He paused, the words resting on his tongue. Wonderful. Accepted. In love. “You make me feel like I’m meant to be here. You make me feel.” Blaise stopped. Because you did make him feel. You made him feel everything. Others might have stunted his feelings in the past, things slowly adding up to prompt him to build his mask of stoic temperament. But it was your passion and your love and kindness that brought out the things in Blaise that he long had forgotten. You made him feel energetic, as if there was nothing more amazing in the world than being in your presence and sharing a moment with you.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not leaving after this week. I’m not leaving as long as you’ll allow me to stay. This club has become my escape just as books always have been and you have been my guide.” He explained. “You’ll stay?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “As long as you’ll have me.” Blaise spoke softly to you, your eyes meeting his, wide with the warmth of adoration and the softness of simple romance.

And where his words failed to express what he truly felt in his muddled moment, encased in worry and a desperate rush to get it all out, he made up for with gestures of his feelings instead. Leaning in, Blaise gently pressed you against the bookcase, carefully taking the book you held in your grasp and placing both of your books on the shelf beside you. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, words brushing softly against your lips, your heart fluttering and racing with the wild, unequivocal feelings of love. “Please.” It was a whisper, one that was not desperate nor rushed, but soft and sweet and accompanied by the way your lashes fluttered, eyes slowly sliding shut as Blaise closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours with a gentle touch.

His kiss was slow and sweet, his thumb coming up to rest against your cheek as he held you, one hand at the nape of your neck and the other resting at your waist. His lips captured yours in a moment of slow, amative bliss, kissing you tenderly until you found yourself breathless, your delicate fingers grasping at the edges of his Slytherin robes.

Slowly parting from you, just enough to catch your gaze, Blaise smiled softly. You felt stunned, but in the best of ways, mind reeling with thoughts and feelings of love. You supposed there had always been something so peaceful about sharing time together to read, but even more so now that you had allowed your feelings to feel.

“I got you something.” Neville said shyly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he held out a beautiful old copy of The Secret Garden for Theo to take, the brunette grinning at his friend before taking it from him. “You shouldn’t.” He shook his head, unable to stop himself from beaming at the kind gesture. “Thank you. I’ll read it with you next week.” Theo said, gently patting Neville’s shoulder. “You’re not leaving the club?” Neville asked, his voice full of hope. Theo glanced around the group, his eyes landing on Cho and Neville. “Nah, I have a feeling that even if I tried to leave I’d end up back here anyway.” He grinned, the three of them sharing great delight as Neville pulled Theo in for an unexpected, though appreciated hug.

“I suppose you’ll go back to bullying us again, will you?” Hermione asked Draco as she began to pack her bag. Draco eyed her, his glare softening. It was not love he felt, more something like the beginnings of a friendship. His eyes travelled around the room, falling onto you and Blaise for a moment and then over to Theo and his new found friendships. Attending the club had been a punishment and while Draco had acted as if he hated it, he knew that beyond his usually brooding and snarky behaviour, he had begun to hold the club in high regards. “No.” Draco said simply. “No?” Ginny asked, looking up at him with a challenging stare. “I can’t bully people I like, can I?” He sneered, and while it came out rather unfriendly, they all knew that he was being sincere. That Draco had actually grown fond of you all. “Will you come back next week?” Hermione asked. “We’ll see, Granger.” Were his last words to her before he pulled his bag onto his shoulder and took his leave.

“I’ll walk you back to your common room, sweetheart.” Blaise said, waiting until you had pulled your robes back on before he gently took your hand in his. “And perhaps we can plan a date?” He added, watching as your smile became uncontrollable and you giggled in your flustered, shy state, overwhelmed but in the best of ways. “I’d love that.”

And with that, Blaise pulled you close. He put his arm around your shoulders, his hand leaning down to hold your hand as you made your way out of the library as a pair, but not for the last time. There would be many more times, your hand in his each time. And you counted yourself lucky, because you had found love between the pages and it was undeniably real.

Blaise Zabini Taglist (OPEN):

@paintballkid711 @megantje123 @chaotic-fae-queen @slytherinwh0re @frecklesandfirecrackers @starofthedawn @mingyuahjumma @dracosaccount @90smalfoy @fuckingdraco @loving-life-my-way @cpetrova @miraclesoflove @struggling-bee @weasleywhore @little-me204 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @eli-malfoy-asf @ur-local-reality-shifter @voidmalfoy @wh0re4blaise @cherie-draco @lazypeachsoul @sistheselenophile @sw33tgirl

#blaise zabini x reader #blaise x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise x you #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise x y/n #blaise zabini #blaise #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini imagine #hp fic #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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❛ MY OTHER HALF ❜

✨ REQUEST: nose si voy tarde però bueno, espero que no. i would like to request (obviously if that is okay for you) a headcanon with angel x reader of the day of their wedding, like súper súper fluffy.

✨ MADE BY: @artofvamps

WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ Especial thanks to my lovely @angelreyesgirl for helping me with this wonderful masterpiece 🖤✨

❚❙ GIF credits: to the amazing @angels-reyes.

❚❙ ANGEL REYES MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Never in your life you could think about having a most perfect wedding, Angel didn't care about it too much, being enough for him to see you happy.

The most magical place you have ever been. Especially when the sun is almost falling, around five pm.

From the window of his room, you can see the backyard perfectly decorated by Creeper and Riz. They didn't lie when they told you that would be amazing.

White and red roses everywhere, forming vines wrapping the wooden beams of the altar. Over the guests' chairs, there are six fairy lights, giving some more intimacy when the night has come; and a red carpet in the hallway, over the grass.

All your friends are there, mixed with the Mayans, waiting for you.

Your hands are trembling, alone in Taza's room, while you hear some voices and laughs outside. You can't help but take another look of yourself in the mirror.

The white dress fits your body perfectly, falling from your chest to the floor.

The girl at the shop called it ‘a-line wedding dress’. You don't care about the name, but about the fact that you look like the most beautiful girl. Your hair is tied on top of your head, behind a delicate silver tiara and small red crystals in it. Soft make-up, that Bishop's Old Lady did for you, just like your future husband likes.

Felipe is run of words when he comes to the room, but you can see what he thinks in his eyes, about to cry.

You know that he would like that Marisol could see you marrying her son. She would love to see the man Angel turned himself into since he met you three years ago.

“Hey, I’m Angel Reyes, and you know what? You’ll be my wife one day”.

He wasn’t wrong.

But he’s not going to lie. He has been the whole night having nightmares about you running away from him; about you deciding that you didn’t want a life with him.

Ezekiel and Coco have been awake too, comforting him whenever the doubts hit his mind.

Holding Felipe’s arm, he guides you downstairs to the outside, feeling your legs shaking and your heart about to explode. You have doubts too. You’re scared of him taking a step back at the last moment.

Although every bad feeling disappears from the two of you, as soon as you lay eyes with each other.

Angel is about to cry. So are you.

For you, for him, there's no one else around your orbit. Just the two of you. Him waiting at the wedding altar, watching you walk over the red carpet perfectly placed on the ground.

And, damn. You thought that Angel couldn't look better, until you have seen him wearing that suit.

A black suit, covering the immaculate white shirt under a silver waistcoat with mayan symbols tissues in it. His hair is perfectly brushed to the back of his head and his beard is giving you desires of kissing it.

Seriously, it should be illegal to look this good.

But the detail that steals all your attention is the fact that he isn't wearing his characteristics rings. That big silver cross in his right pinkie and a signet ring with the Virgin of Guadalupe in his ring finger.

Felipe kisses your cheek, to intertwine his son's hand with yours.

You can't help but use your free hand to clean the tears falling down his cheeks, making Angel chuckles softly. You are always taking care of him with the most minimal details, showing him how much you love him, before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“You changed me. You changed my life. You came with that smile, illuminating all the darkness around me. You've accepted me, advised me, shown me the road to happiness, put me first. You've never, ever, judged me. You've healed me, you've healed my wounds, my soul, my heart. You gave me the opportunity I always thought I would never have… You, mi reina, have loved me unconditionally without asking for anything back. I don't have enough words to express how I feel every morning when I wake up with you under my arms, when I kiss you, when I see you dancing in our kitchen, when you… look me with these beautiful eyes as if I was the fucking Big Bang happening in front of you”. Bringing your hands to his mouth, Angel kisses every knuckle of them. “I can't imagine a single day without you, without hearing your laugh, without reading your texts desiring me a good day when you wake up and I'm already gone. I don't wanna live a single day without hearing you singing in the shower, without riding my bike with you behind my back, without you smacking my ass and screaming ‘daaaamn, this is all mine’! You make me happy like no one could do. You make me feel important like no one could do. And I promise you, fuck… I swear it to God, that I'm gonna give you all of me. Every second of every minute, of every hour of every day till the end of my time. I don't want to live without you”.

Now, it's Angel who has to clean your tears, causing some laughs between the guests. And he can't help but wrap you with his arms in a tight, tight hug. The warmest and dearly hug he has ever given you.

“I didn't know what love was until I met you. I didn't know which was the meaning of life until I met you. Mi rey. My other half. It was you, and only you, since I saw you the first time sitting on your bike, smoking and with that face of grumpy idiot”. The guests laugh again, because they all know that pose. “And then you standed up and started to walk, and I thought ‘what the hell is wrong with his leg’”. More laughs. The loudest comes from your future husband. “But I would never change you for anyone else. We've been through bad days and good days. Shitty nights and funny nights. I would never change my life with you for anything else. No one has ever made me happy as you do every moment of my existence. You're the most awesome, incredible, loyal and lovely man I have ever met. You fight for me, you take care of me, you protect me. You make me smile whenever I feel insufficient, whenever I feel sad, whenever I feel that I don't belong anywhere. My home, my life, my happiness is wherever you are, Angel Reyes”.

Then, Taza as the priest looks at the two of you, before guiding his dark eyes towards you. “Would you want to take Angel Ignacio Reyes in hol—”. He can't finish, being interrupted by the man in question clicking his tongue. “Of fucking course she wants”. Gently grabbing your chin with a hand and placing the other on the back of your head, Angel kisses you by pecking your lips, making you laugh.

But Leti breaks the moment, coughing exaggeratedly. You asked her to be the flower girl and she has been practicing the last month, to don’t mess up her task. The most important one, actually.

For the next two hours, you can’t stop looking at your hand tangled with Angel’s, and the two fresh golden rings in your fingers. To other people they could be just two pieces of jewelry, but for you it’s the purest way to show him your love, your support, and your unconditional trust in him.

And for the next two hours, Angel can’t stop kissing your face all around. Going down with furtive kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your knuckles; not being able to take off from you his other arm around your waist, tightly closed to push you next to him.

Coco and Gilly are in charge of the speech, knowing that it’s going to be more funny than you thought, when they get up from their chairs drunk as fuck after too many shots of tequila. “Yo, mami… you really got the golden dick”. “Man!” Gilly punches him on the shoulder, making him strumble with his own feet and having to grab the other’s jacket to not fall. “I’m speaking the truth! Who was gonna think that he would get the girl to this point, ah?” “Not me”. “Me neither”. “You jealous, ah, motherfuckers?” Angel tosses them a napkin, causing the laugh of everyone around you. “Seriously, girl… How you do it to st—”.

“Enough?” Leti whispers to EZ, sitting by her side. The younger Reyes nods in silence, getting up, making Creeper and Riz a sign to take them off from the center of the yard; between curses in spanish and in some kind of invented language because of the alcohol.

“Hey, brother, I just want to tell you that by far this is the happiest moment of my life. You don’t deserve anything but all the love and the affection, and we all know that only her can give it to you”. You’re starting to think that EZ’s purpose is making Angel cry, because his eyes are being filled up with a bunch of tears now. “Our lives haven’t been easy, you know that… And you have put all the weight on your shoulders since ever, but I’m proud of you. Of who you are. Of calling you my brother. Mi sangre. I don’t desire you anything but happiness, Angel”.

“Yeah, and God bless your patience, sister”. Leti can’t help but add that remark, trying to not laugh when she finds you nodding energetically, before kissing your husband’s tears running down his cheek.

The big toast echoes all around the ranch, in the meantime that the prospects from Yuma and Stockton bring the cake. One of them. That’s the main, a three-story cake of black and white chocolate with your names drawn in red. Canche’s wife has made it for you. She’s an amazing pastry.

And you thought that Angel wouldn’t do it. HE PROMISED YOU ONE HUNDRED TIMES.

But that piece of shit were lying,

Stamping a piece of cake on your face, your husband quickly grabs your wrists to avoid you punch him, or do the same to him. As you sob between chuckles, keeping your eyes closed, Angel licks your lips with the tip of his tongue. “Mi dulce, mi favorito”.

“You promised me…”

“Ah, ah… I promised that I wouldn’t smash YOUR face IN the cake. And I didn't”.

After cleaning yourself and changing the heavy dress for another one that fits your silhouette to the perfection, you are ready to give your husband the last surprise of your wedding.

“Are you takin' me to a dark corner?” “Stop asking, Angel… You'll see”.

At the front yard, a baseball bat and a ball awaits. “What's that, baby?”

“Sh… I throw you the ball, and you hit it, okay?”

So there you are, watching Angel in position as in his old times, when he used to play in highschool.

You throw it.

He hits it.

And in just one second, the distance between you gets caught up by a pink powder, almost staining your clothes.

Angel is in shock. The bat falls from his hand. Eyes widened. Parted lips. His skin bristled, as his cheeks got wet again because of the tears.

“Felicidades, papi”.

He can't stop crying, embracing you with all his strength to his chest. Your husband can't believe anything that is happening today. All he has ever wanted is happening in a sight.

“The day we met, you told me that one day I would be your wife. And I told you that you looked like the father of my future children”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Call if You Need Me - cth

part of nation of two

summary: We meet Petra and Calum. Two souls who keep running into each other. The beginning to a nation of two that brings Calum and Petra to realize how much they love the sun on one another.

author’s notes: Welcome back to Nation of Two! Thanks for your patience with this series! I’m very excited to be sharing this new version of it with you and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I do!

warnings: Brief mentions of sex

masterlist || request || read it on AO3 || next part

When Calum first met Petra, his life seemed to look brighter. Days were warmer and the birds sang a little louder whenever he walked outside. It was as if everything used to be in black and white and Petra brought the color. It was as if some higher power above Calum brought him to a random park in LA and his life was forever changed. He'd never seen her before, which wasn't hard to do since LA was filled with people and the chance of seeing her again was minute.

Okay, maybe that was a lie. Calum had seen her before. It was like fate had been playing jokes on him.

The first time he'd seen Petra, he didn't even know her name. She'd been ahead of him at the grocery store. She'd been unloading her groceries onto the belt, colorful fruits, and vegetables that made Calum's basket seem dull in color, the cashier and her both chatting over a drink Petra had been excited to try. Calum had been watching, and listening, to her absentmindedly. He'd stopped by to grab a few snacks and drinks before the band's slot at the studio began.

Calum liked her smile. He liked how she was polite and didn't interrupt the cashier when she told her about the other flavors of the energy drink that Calum was making a mental note about getting next time around. He also liked, and he might've chuckled he doesn't remember now, Petra's reusable bags which were a mix of tote bags that had different patterns on them. His favorite had to be the canvas bag that had been stamped with a drawing of a corgi with an umbrella.

Calum had never been one to approach people he didn't know in public, especially pretty women who took his breath away, so it was no surprise when he watched Petra walk out of the grocery store with her bags as he waited for the cashier to finish ringing up his groceries. He wouldn't even know what to say if he had gone after her. He'd probably just make a fool of himself and end up with flushed cheeks at the studio as he thought back on the moment. So with his snacks and non energized drinks in a plastic bag, Calum made his way out of the grocery store, his eyes searching the parking lot in hopes of seeing the woman with the bright smile and colorful groceries.

The second time Calum saw Petra, he thought he'd imagined it. His hands were full with his laptop, journal, and the iced coffee he'd been nursing all morning in the way of him opening the door to the record shop he was meant to meet Ashton at. Looking helpless, Calum tried to figure out the best way to open the door, until his savior showed up from inside the store.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there," Petra laughed, her eyebrows raising as she noticed the confused look on Calum's face, "Hands full?"

"Huh?" Calum mumbled as he looked at her in somewhat awe, "Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you," he chuckled before stepping into the record shop, his head nodding at her.

"Don't worry about it, have a nice day! They have really good records today," she said and waved, giving him a bright smile before she continued on with her day.

Calum would've been lying if he said he hadn't felt his heart race and his palms sweat as he talked with her. It might've even been embarrassing if he thought too much about it, how a short and polite conversation between two strangers could rile him up this much. But with a deep breath and another sip of the now watered-down coffee, Calum walked around the store, trying to find Ashton and wondering if he'd ever see Petra again.

"Oh, it's you again. Are you sure you're not stalking me?" Petra's voice broke Calum out of his gaze, her laugh warming his skin as he tried his best not to blush.

Calum was used to his fans following his every move. He was used to them knowing where he was before he even knew and it had gotten to the point where he'd rarely want to leave the comfort of his home. But this was just strange. In the past two months, Calum had seen Petra a handful of times. Since their initial two meetings, Calum had spotted her at the same brunch spot that Michael had taken him to on a sunny Wednesday. He'd also seen her at the beach when he'd taken Duke after a stressful studio session. It seemed like everywhere Calum went, Petra had beat him to it. And even now, as he'd stopped at the flower shop down the street from the grocery store, Petra was strolling through the aisles of vases that Calum just so happened to walk into.

"It would seem that way, huh?" Calum said with a nervous chuckle, "Guess we just keep on meeting,"

"Some people would call that fate, you know?" Petra teased, her eyebrow-raising as she stuck her hand out for him to shake, "I'm Petra."

"Petra. Nice to meet you again," Calum laughed and took her hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze as she shook them, "I'm Calum."

"Yeah, I know," she mumbled, her eyes widening a bit, "Shit no, that sounded creepy. I just meant that-"

"Are you sure you're not the one who's stalking me?" Calum asked, no malice in his voice, and the smile he was trying to hide gave way to his teasing.

"Haha. I'm just a fan of your work. Who wouldn't be, you guys are changing the music scene," Petra nodded and shrugged, her addicting smile once again blessing Calum's presence.

"I appreciate that Petra, it means a lot," he nodded, "So you're buying flowers for someone special?"

Petra laughed at that, her eyes looking past him before making their way back to meet his. Calum felt the familiar warmth that spread over his body whenever he'd seen her in the past two months, the feeling that something was meant to happen. Calum couldn't deny that she was beautiful, besides her smile that always seems to be on his mind these days, Calum found himself looking over her as well. Watching the way her curls bounced on her shoulders and the way her sundress seemed to match the warm weather and warmth he felt inside.

"Uh, no. Can't a woman buy herself flowers something?" she asked, "Are you?"

"Can't a man buy himself some flowers?" Calum returned, his chuckle soft as he shrugged, "I guess I should go pay for these then. It was nice to properly meet you, Petra,"

"Calum," she said with a nod, "Have a nice day. Maybe fate will have us meet again," she teased and with a wave, she was walking back down the aisle.

And Calum really hoped that this time, fate would be on his side.

"Morning," Petra's soft voice broke Calum out of his early morning thoughts, "Have you been awake long?"

Calum's head turned to the side, the breath he'd been planning to let go of getting caught in his throat as his eyes landed on Petra. Her room was the perfect representation of who she was. The plants that adorned the window left the smell of rain in her room almost constantly. The soft covers that Calum found himself under the majority of the time he'd spent with her reminded him of clouds. But his favorite part of Petra's bedroom was the giant window next to her bed which let the sunlight filter in and land on her in the mornings. She always looked ethereal in the mornings, her soft skin glowing under the sun as her curls covered her eyes. It was Calum's favorite way to wake up, with Petra by his side, her soft breaths against his shoulder. He loved waking up next to her almost as much as he loved falling asleep next to her, watching how the moonlight illuminated her as her thoughts drifted from coherent to a mumbling of words.

"No, just a few minutes, how'd you sleep?" Calum mumbled, sleep still evident in his voice as he cleared his throat to try and chase it away.

"Extremely comfortable," she mumbled, her lips pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, "Slept next to the man I love, couldn't ask for anything better than that, huh?"

Calum's sleepy smile matched hers, his body turning onto its side so he could pull her close to his chest. It had been six months since Calum had bought her those flowers she'd been holding. Six months since he'd asked the cashier to slip the little white card with his phone number into the bouquet. Six months since Calum had picked up the phone on a sunny evening and listened to Petra tease him over the cheesy message he'd left her.

“Pretty flowers for a woman who deserves them, that’s pretty cheesy, don’t you think?” Petra had asked, her voice soft as Calum’s cheeks flushed. He’d been sitting on his couch, his hands sweaty as he tried to excuse the action but it didn’t matter, Petra had already fallen for him and his cheesiness, “You have a way with words, Calum.”

“Maybe I can make up for the cheesiness soon?” Calum asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he ran a hand through the curls that had been long for too long and ached to be cut, “Maybe I can take you out sometime soon?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Petra mumbled, hoping that Calum couldn’t hear her giddiness or the smile that was adorning her face, even over the phone, “Throwing fate into your own hands?”

“Of course, we have to do that at some point, don’t we?”

And after last night's confessions, when both were too lost in one another's bodies and lips to hold back their emotions for any longer, their night together went from a simple date to a confession of love. It was something that Calum had put off for so long in his life, something that he'd tried before and failed. Something that had broken him so badly he'd shut the world out for so long. But with Petra, loving her was nothing more than common sense. It was wanting her by his side and buying her pretty flowers whenever he passed by the flower shop. So when Petra whispered those three little words to him in between moans and kisses, Calum never hesitated to say them back because he'd known the truth for months. He loved Petra and she loved him.

And he couldn't ask for anything more. He loved Petra on her good days and on her bad days. He loved Petra when it was raining outside and her pout hid away the beautiful smile Calum had fallen for all those months ago. He loved her in the supermarket when they were the only people walking down the fluorescent-lit aisles in the late hours of the night. He loved her when they were in the darkness of his living room, talking into the morning lights about everything and nothing.

If you asked Petra, which her parents did a lot, she'd tell you the same things. That she loved Calum to the farthest galaxy and back. That the moon and the stars could never shine as bright as he did and that the sunlight on his golden-brown skin was something she could study daily. She loved Calum even if he preferred rainy days over the sunny ones she loved so much. Petra knew he'd been hurt before, that he'd hidden his heart behind a wall of ice and that it had taken a lot of time and working on himself to get to where they were. She knew that Calum could be like the bird his name was meant for, that he could get spooked and fly away at any moment. But Petra loved that even with all the fears and the doubts his mind gave him, he'd whispered how much he loved her the night before, his breathy moans in her ear as he confessed how he'd felt.

It was a sunny afternoon when Petra first saw Calum. He had his hands full and was struggling to open the door of the record shop that her friend had recently started working at. Petra had promised to stop by and maybe buy a few albums to boost her friend's sales for the day. She'd just finished checking out and was on her way out when she'd spotted him. She recognized him immediately, the pink pressed vinyl in her bag had his face on it, and so she opened the door for him. She liked his eyes, how they widened when he realized he wasn't going to have to drop his coffee or laptop on the ground in order to open the door. She liked the breathy laugh he gave her before walking into the store and the way her heart raced once she had walked back to her car and had a mini freak out over meeting one of her favorite artists. Had she regretted not saying anything else besides a joke? Of course, she had, she could've asked for a picture of even for him to sign the vinyl she'd just bought, but Petra had decided that if it was meant to be, she'd see him again.

"Oh, I don't know mom, it's weird! I've only seen him in passing! I've said maybe a handful of words to him and to make matters worse he's a famous musician who will probably never know my name," Petra huffed as she got back into her car after once again seeing Calum at the bookstore she visited every once in a while, "What if he thinks I'm just a crazy stalker fan?"

"Petra, darling, you're a beautiful young woman. He'd be a fool to those harsh things about you. Maybe you've already caught his eye and he's the one who's nervous to say anything to you." Petra's mother said over the phone, the evident noises of cooking in the background, "Next time you see him, you should talk to him. You can't get struck by lightning if you're not standing in the rain."

"Mom, that is the most terrifying metaphor you could've used. I hope you know that," Petra mumbled as she laid her head back against her headrest.

"I love you Petra, be safe," her mom chuckled, "Go dancing out in the rain for a change!"

Petra had known her mom meant well. She'd been living in LA for almost a year and she had yet to put herself out there. Sure, she had friends and her coworkers were always inviting her out to bar nights and social events. But Petra craved the attention of someone. She'd been single for years now and moving to LA had been a step towards changing that. She was meant to find herself and what she wanted to do with her life here. She knew meeting Calum in multiple places around this giant city hadn't been coincidences, she knew that fate had a funny way of playing with her and she was just supposed to take everything thrown at her with a grain of salt.

Petra smiled as she listened to Calum talk over the phone, he was chatting about the latest city the band was in. He'd been gone for a few weeks, living his life and playing shows every night. Sure, Petra missed him, she missed him like crazy every day whenever she woke up in an empty bed and when she ate breakfast alone. But she knew that Calum had missed being on stage and missed singing in front of a crowd. Even if that meant that Petra and Calum couldn't be together for a while, it'd be worth it.

"P, you there?" Calum asked, chuckling quietly, Petra could hear the smile in his voice, could see him leaning against the tour bus with that soft smile she loved so much, "Or did you disappear on me?"

"Sorry, yeah I'm here." Petra laughed quietly, "What were you saying?"

"I'm coming home, babe," Calum said happily, "We've got a break and I'm gonna fly out to spend time with you."

Calum was packing up his bag on the counter of her bathroom, the glass wall of her shower made him look like a blur. The warm water from the showerhead was hitting her body, soothing the aches from the night before as she listened to Calum talk about his most recent trip. Her eyes were closed as she massaged shampoo into her hair, but she could still picture Calum, his hands above his head, or playing an invisible bass as he told Petra about the moment he and the band knew they'd cracked the code on their latest single.

"So do I get a sneak peek of it?" Petra asked as she finished shampooing her hair, her eyes opening to meet Calum, who was standing next to the entrance of the shower.

"You wish," he laughed and shook her head, "Gotta wait until we have the master done, lovebug."

"Ugh, I thought dating one of your favorite musicians meant you got to listen to new music first?" she mumbled in fake annoyance, her hands moving to splash Calum with water.

"Oh you're gonna pay for that one," he laughed and before Petra knew it, Calum's arms were wrapped around hers and the water was splashing them both.

"You're supposed to be packing, dork. Can't leave if you don't have a suitcase packed," Petra mumbled against his lips, her thumb stroking his jawline.

"Stop revealing my plans, honey," he whispered and pulled her into another kiss, "You forgot an important part of my plan though."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be, Dove?" she asked quietly, the familiar nickname bringing a redness to Calum’s cheeks, and smiled as she followed a water drop that rolled down his forehead to his jaw. It rolled down slowly, almost as if it too was taking its time enjoying the feeling of Calum’s skin against it.

"You're coming with me. Taking you home with me this time."

taglist: @hoodhoran @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom @ashtonsunflower @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

if you're in the mood for requests i would absolutely LOVE something from the hidebehind au? (maybe including blindfold sex??)

Here you go! I decided to do this for monster march. We’ll figure this counts as prompt 18: claws.

All things considered, Duck is lucky. He’s employed which, given when the newspapers are calling the great depression raging across the country, is a blessing. His days are spent among the mighty trees of the Pacific Coast, he has a small cabin all to himself, and a cat to keep the mice away.

He just wishes he wasn’t working for a fucking logging company hundreds of miles away from anyone he’s ever known.

Winthrop Logging needed someone with an arborist or botanists training to make sure the woods stayed healthy before they were chopped down. So they pay Duck a fine sum to make sure diseases or pests don’t send their prospects toppling like dominos. As he traverses his usual route between the trees, he wonders if there will ever be a way to convince them to preserve some of the land rather than profit from it.

He stops, studying a pine. There it is again, the feeling that someone, or something, is behind him. Watching. Waiting.

It started three weeks ago, when he was deeper in the woods than usual, humming to himself and occasionally talking to the trees. The skin on his neck prickled, all his senses forcing him from his thoughts and into the present moment; something was there, tracking him as he moved. Not a bear, our a cougar, as the birds still called and the insects chorused. Whatever it was stood directly behind him, yet when he turned to look, there was nothing but the path.

For the first few days he tried to spot it, never got more than a flicker in the corner of his eye. He came home exhausted, the day spent on high alert as the primal part of his mind demanded he remain on guard for the moment his hunter decided to strike.

The moment hasn’t come, and Duck is growing used to the gaze crawling up his spine. He decided to ignore it, pretend it was just his imagination and some days that worked.

Today, there’s no getting around the fact that something is peering over his shoulder. Twice now he’s felt fingers millimeters from his neck. When he feels them again, he reaches his arm back, eyes firmly on his notes, and grabs hold of his stalker.

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

Humans are not known for their speed. Indrid’s foresight showed this one as no exception, so when the man is fast enough to grab his leg, he chirps in surprise.

“Fuckin knew it, there is someone back there.” Warm fingers smooth across the short down of his leg.

Indrid appreciates being called a someone instead of a thing, but not the position of Duck’s hand.

“Please let go. That is my thigh you are grabbing. My upper thigh.”

The hand stays put, “Anyone ever tell you it’s mighty rude to stand right behind a fella when he’s tryin to work?”

“I cannot stand anywhere else, though the proximity is due to-”

“Uh huh, sure, just like you can’t help but play and hide and seek whenever I try to figure out what’s goin on. Lemme guess, you’re one of the other fellas from the loggin camp playin tricks on the new guy?”

“I am nothing of the kind.” Indrid contemplates moving the hand himself, but it feels so very nice.

“One of the locals then? I keep tellin you, I’m a country boy, I’m not gonna get scared by campfire tales or weird noises in the woods. Try that government fella instead.”

“What about the part of me you are touching suggests I am human?”

“Probably a left-over monkey suit or somethin’ from Halloween.”

“I am not a costume, I am a Hidebehind.”

The human pauses, then shakes his head, “No such thing.”

“You are literally touching one.” Indrid stamps his foot, frustrated by the turn this is taking and the fact that futures do not show the human believing him any time soon.

“Don’t believe I am.” The human turns his head. Indrid’s body whips sideways, keeping him from view. The human holds on, tries again from the opposite direction, only for Indrid to be wrenched back the way he came.

“Stop movin!”

“Stop trying to look at me!” He’s twisted to the side once more, wrenching the humans arm in the process.

“Ow!” The grip on him tightens, “quit this fuckin game right now. You don’t lemme see you, I’ll drag you right back to camp with me.”

“I can’t!” Indrid chirps, panicked, the noise continuing into a wail of alarm at what might happen if he’s surrounded with nowhere to hide.

His fear must register as genuine, as the human releases him with a sigh. After a moment he removes his hat, running his fingers through his hair but not turning around.

“You still there?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you even followin me in the first place?”

A peek at the futures says the truth will be most effective, though almost all timelines end with the human telling him to “get gone.”

“I find you intriguing. You do not chop or hack at my home, you study it. You speak to the trees when you think you are alone. You look soft to touch, especially the fur on your head. I like looking at you and being near you. That was why I stood so close.”

“...You been followin me because you’re sweet on me?” The drawl, as soothing as movement of water through plant limbs, seems confused.

“I do not find you sweet. I could only do that if I ate you. Which I do not want to do.

A chuckle, “Not quite what I meant. You been hangin around me because you think I’m swell and wanna get to know me. Guess I can’t fault you for that, I'm a decent fella to know if I do say so myself. You got a name?”

“Indrid.” This is an unexpected turn of the timelines.

“Nice to meet you, Indrid. I’m-”

“-Duck” Indrid says along with him, “apologies, I can see the future and am thus a bit ahead in conversations.”

“Huh. Well, I gotta head back to town. If you wanna talk again, I won’t mind. Just tell me you want to instead of lurkin, you hear?”

Indrid grins, “Yes. I hear you perfectly.”

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

“Fuck” Duck picks himself up from the dirt where he fell, brushing pine needles from his coat. He’d been angling for a better look at a set of roots and tripped over a different set in the process.

“Are you alright?” A now familiar voice asks from behind a tree to his left.

“Depends. You see me make a fool of myself by fallin on my face?”

“Yes.”

“Then my body is fine but my dignity is real wounded.”

A laugh like spring breeze through new leaves, “I suspect it will recover. You do have quite a deal of leaves in your hair. May I help you with them?”

Duck nods. Slender fingers pluck at his hair.

“Ohhh, it is just as soft as I thought it would be.” Indrid murmurs, “does it feel nice?”

“Don’t feel like much--oh, uh, fuck, that does though. Feels damn good.” Duck groans as claws scritch his scalp. The first time he felt them on his shoulder when Indrid was talking, he tensed; The hidebehind isn’t small, and the claws suggest he could shred Duck to bits and scatter him across the woods. But after weeks of keeping him company, Duck knows the worst Indrid might do to him is steal too much of his lunch.

The hidebehind, endlessly fascinated by Duck’s job, will sit out of sight as he works. Duck asked him if he only watched Duck the entire time. It turns out the creature draws as well, and Duck now recognizes the sound of a pencil under the rustle of leaves and calls of wildlife. Indrid also spares Duck dangerous climbs into the trees, offering to look at marks or discoloration and describe them if they’re too high for the human to see.

Turns out he also gives a mean rubdown, his claws moving from Duck’s head to his neck, banishing the knot that’s been bothering him all morning.

“I like touching you.” Indrid chirps. Duck hasn’t forgotten their first meeting; if a man had come to him with such flattering shyness in his voice and an interest in Ducks body, he’d have been in Duck’s bed by the end of the night.

He’s not ready to take a hidebehind home, but he’s ready to tease one.

“Seems mighty unfair that you get to touch and I don’t.”

“You would have to close your eyes to so much as shake my hand. My form does not care how little of me you would see, it will pull me into hiding regardless.”

“Then I’ll close my eyes.” Duck does just that, tips his head back so Indrid can see it’s safe. One hand continues massaging his head, while a spindly arm reaches around his chest.

“Bring your arms up, towards you a bit more, yes, there we are.”

Duck runs his hands over the limb; it reminds him of Manzanita bark he saw in the Sierra Nevadas, smooth but unmistakably of the woods. Towards the elbow the texture changes to soft, short feathers, like the ones on Indrids leg.

The hidebehind tightens his hold, pulling Duck to his torso. More feathers prickle the back of his neck and the creature shudders.

“You alright back there?”

“I...it has been so very long since anyone or anything touched me. I foresaw my body being sensitive to it but the intensity is, is-” he lets go so suddenly Duck stumbles, “I am sorry, it was too much and yet I wanted, wanted more.”

Images of Indrid surrounding him, chirping and purring as Duck touches him all over, flood his mind. The embarrassment in his voice keeps the arborist from acting on them.

“You, uh, gonna show me that Saw-Whet Owl nest?”

“Of course, sweet human. Take the right fork of that deer trail just ahead, and we shall go from there.”

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

“I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

Duck, still perching on the stump he was using as a lunch chair, does as instructed. Indrid sets a piece of paper in his right hand.

“You may now look.”

An illustration fills the entire page. It shows a being with stick-like arms and legs leading to a narrow body covered in short, leaf shaped feathers in mottled browns and greens. The face is angular, shaded to suggest it’s dusted with fuzz, and leads to several stick-shaped horns. The eyes are wide and black, the claws long, and there are short, triangular shapes behind its shoulders.

“Holy fuck, you’ve got wings?”

“Indeed. I do not use them much. I believe they help my kind migrate when our habitats dwindle.”

Duck traces the face on the paper, “How long did it take you to make this?”

“Two days, as the lakes I use to study my reflection tend to attract townspeople and loggers looking to take a break from their toil.”

“You did all this just ‘cause I said I wished I knew what you looked like.”

“Not solely. I...I wanted to show you it as well. So you might know the face of the one who, ah, whose days you brighten.”

Carefully, Duck folds the portrait and tucks it into the inside pocket of his coat, “Find I like my work even better with your company too, ‘Drid. Would you, uh, be okay if I tried to match what you showed me to what I can feel?”

An intrigued chirr floats through the air as Duck shuts his eyes and waves to the ground in front of him. A scuff and rustle of dirt and leaves, and then he feels Indrid in front of him. Cool hands guide his own onto the multicolored feathers.

“Shoulders?”

“Correct.” Indrid moves their joined hands upwards, stopping on velvet-dusted cheeks, “oh, oh goodness, I have always wanted to be held like this.”

“Yeah?” Duck’s heartbeat is in his fingertips, “what else have you always wanted?”

“To, to be touched, to be known, toMMMphohh” a rough tongue laps at his lips as he pulls Indrid into an awkward, bowed kiss.

“How’s that, darlin?” Duck kisses along what he thinks is Indrids’ jaw, “that the kind of knowin’ you in the mood for?”

“Yes, oh my sweet human you spoil me, oh” claws grab his shoulders, “I, do you really wish this, with me? This was in so few timelines I assumedAH” he squirms adorably as Duck gropes the feathers of his chest.

“You better believe it, sugar. It’s the weirdest goddamn thing I ever wanted and I want it, want you, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long fuckin time.” Curious and eager to fill every one of his senses with Indrid, he buries his face against his upper chest, finds skin beneath all the camouflage and bites down. The hidebehind keens, pulling Duck from his seat into his lap. Duck laughs, bites down once more and gets a nose full of fluff.

“AhCHOO!” His eyes pop open on reflex after he sneezes, sending the hidebehind out of view and Duck flat on the ground.

“Blasted physiology” Indrid chirrs, frustrated.

Duck sits up, Indrid’s cries of pleasure ringing in his ears and giving him all kinds of reckless ideas.

“Don’t worry, darlin. If my hidebehind wants to romancin’, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

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

He takes to wearing a kerchief around his neck at work. The loggers and company pencil pushers assume it’s an affectation, not a tool for covering his eyes for some uninterrupted kisses while deep in the woods. Today, he’s not sure kisses will be enough.

Duck woke up hard, dream of Indrid looming above him in bed fading into the morning sun. His hidebehind has yet to show himself, so the humans mind has nothing but his fantasies to distract him on his trek through the woods.

He’s ahead on his tasks for the day. He’s five miles deep in the woods. And he’s got an idea.

After rinsing his hands with water from his canteen, he leans back against a tree and undoes his suspenders, followed by his fly. Closing his eyes, he slips his fingers into his underwear, teasing himself and sending soft moans into the air. It doesn’t take long before he’s wet enough to push two up into himself with ease.

“‘Drid” he gasps, letting his head loll back, “‘Drid, fuck, that feels so fuckin good.”

A single leaf crunches in front of him, and his kerchief slowly slides up his face to shield his eyes.

“It is about to feel much better, dear one.” Indrid kisses the top of his head, “Shall I take this shameless display as evidence that you wish for me to, ah, fuck you?”

“That it does. And I’ll have you know I got plenty of shaAAmeWHoah.” Duck flails as his pants fall down and his body flies up in one smooth motion. Indrids claws prick his thighs as he spreads them open, holding him against the trunk with ease.

“So very polite of my sweet one to prepare himself for me. It makes this all the easier.” A round, bumpy cock teases his folds, pressing in with a stretch that makes Duck twist in his lovers hold.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so fucking good but holy fuck, are you packin a fuckin pine tree down thereOH, ohfuckdarlin, that’s, that’s as far as it’s gonna go.”

“Half of it? My, who knew my human could take so much? Wait, it is not too much, correct?”

“N-nope, just the right amount” the bumps rub every inch inside him, one on the shaft catching his cock as Indrid thrusts and wiggles his hips.

“Wonderful” Indrid purrs, “I have dreamed of this all dayAHnnncareful” he chides after Duck bites the part of his arm he’s able to reach, “or I shall take you so roughly your back will wear imprints of bark for days.”

Duck whimpers excitedly, very aware of thick pre-cum dripping into him, “Yeah lets do that.”

He can hear the grin.

“If you insist.”

“FUCKohfuckohfuck” his hands scrabble at the tree and at Indrid’s arms, “that’s it darlin, that’s it, fuck, gonna give you the best goddamn rub-down after this, touch you until your body forgets what it’s like to be without my fuckin hands on it.” Leaves scatter in his hair and down the back of his shirt as Indrids fucking turns frantic.

“I, I shall hold you to that AHhnn, sweet one, you are so tight, so deliciously slick and inviting, I, I am not going to last long, you are too perfect, just touching you makes me burn like wildfire” His thrusts sharpen, never pushing too deep but making Duck feel like a log split beneath an axe of ecstasy, “Duck, sweetheart, yes, yesyesyes” Indrid spills into him, cum running out of Ducks body and back down his shaft.

For a minute, Duck is nothing more than a pinned specimen, spread eagle on the tree as Indrid shudders, purrs, and drags fuzzy kisses along his throat. Then his shirt rides up as he slips down the tree, but Indrid doesn’t put him down. Instead, a rough tongue glides up one thigh and then the other. The human gasps, gripping Indrid’s horns for balance as Indrid buries his face between his legs.

“Ohhhhhh, oh I do so love tasting how we mingle together.” Indrid’s breath is ragged and hot against his dick, “I am going to do this every day.”

“Please” Duck squeezes his horns, his orgasm painfully close, “please ‘Drid, wanna cum on your tongue, want you holdin me up while I, I-ohfuck.” His legs kick weakly as Indrid sucks him off, tongue lavishing his cock with so much friction he goes hoarse from moaning. The fact he cannot see makes it all the better, makes his world nothing more than Indrids mouth, his claws, his desire that wraps around Duck like vines.

He cums, arching his hips into the “thank yous” Indrid presses to his legs.

When his boots touch the ground, deft claws begin pulling his clothes into order, Indrid kissing and caressing him as he does.

“Y’know, I can get my own britches up.” Duck ruffles a nearby patch of feathers.

“I know, but I wish to take care of you. Hidebehinds are attentive to our mates, and while I cannot build you a nest, and I can least clean you up after you let me do something so wonderful with you.”

Duck wraps his arms around the cryptid, resting his cheek against him, “Would you wanna do this, uh, wonderful somethin again?”

“Of course.”

The human smiles, reaches his hand up to stroke Indrids cheek. This means he feels the hidebehind smile when Duck says, “Glad to hear it. But I’ll have you know, one of these days I’m gonna expect a nest.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #monster march #reader request #trans duck newton

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