#even if it takes a while for me to figure out how they’ll work

[whaliiwatching]

Hey hello. Consider. Hobie reading over and suggesting edits to drafts of Peter's writing and then going home visually with clippings and quotes from said writing as a part of him. Alternately, Peter takes inspiration from quotes visible on Hobie

heart on your sleeve…..

[thefaultinoursprinkles]

how to explain that I’m dying and have too much going on in my personal life to have such a stressful job without sharing unnecessary details with my boss that may come back to bite me later on

[bigfatbimbo]

And I saw sparks —

1.2k Words,, Lucifer x reader

a/n — So this was actually a request at some point but it was literally lost to the tumblr void. I cannot find it for the life of me but it had to do with brushing Lucifer’s feathers so here we are.

summary — Date night for the reader and Lucifer quickly turns into a bonding session where the reader grooms Lucifer’s unkept and touch starved wings.

warnings — Fluff, gn reader, obnoxious flirting, getting together (officially), Lucifer being touch starved and sad.

Lucifer groaned as he tried uselessly to comb the feathers on his far back. He didn’t know if he had enough time to finish pruning when he started, and now, barely a third done, he was sure he didn’t. 

His third date with you was in ten minutes. In ten minutes you would show up at his door and expect a fully prepared, well put together, king of hell to sweep you off your feet.

How could he do that when he couldn’t even brush his own damn feathers? What are you going to think when you see him? Maybe, he thought, you’d simply scoff and leave him totally alone with poorly groomed wings.

How pathetic would that be? He grumbled to himself, dreading the last few moments he had to prepare. What was it now, six minutes? If he’s lucky, eight.

Lucifer was so wrapped up in these pessimistic thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind him as he scrambled and whined over his knotted feathers.

“Lucifer, you okay over there?” You asked from the door way. 

He jumped back, brush getting caught up in the fluff of his wings and yanking two feathers out, making him let out a yelp and fall over. 

“Jesus christ, Luci—“ you laugh going over to help him up.

A blush spread across his cheeks. “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon,” he explained brushing himself off, “Wait how did you—“

“You left the door open and I heard very loud groaning so—“ You gesture to him, “—I thought i’d figure out where it was coming from. Oh, and you being demon royalty and all, I don’t think you should just leave your door open like that.”

He could tell you were joking and he was overjoyed that your attention hadn’t fallen to his exposed wings yet, so he played along.

“Actually, i’d argue that’s the very reason I can leave the door open,” he puffed his chest in his attempt to gloat his power.

This backfired when your gaze drifted to his roughly unkept feathers. Embarrased, he drew back.

“Uh, I was just finishing brushing them. They’ll be going away now, bye bye feathers,” he awkwardly laughed and rambled as he turned around him to hide his wings. 

“Wait, if you’re trying to groom them then,” your hands hovered over the wings before retrieving the brush from the table, “I can help with that. I had a friend way back when who—“

“Nononono,” he chirped, scooting back slightly, “I’m supposed to be taking you out and— and I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Lucifer, it’s seriously no trouble. Shit, if anything it’s fun. Let me see,” you gently sit him down and take a seat on the floor behind him. 

Your hands find his feathers and begin combing through the unkept bits Lucifer couldn’t reach himself.

He tried with all of his might to stop his wings from flapping about. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel incredibly soothing having someone else care for his sensitive wings. 

“Oh god,” he sighs, letting his head fall back slightly as you work your way through his feathers. He collected himself seconds later, not wanting to seem weird, “Sorry, it’s just been a while since anyone’s…”

He trailed off so you took pity and finished the sentence for him, “No, it’s okay. It’s cute how flustered you get over shit like this, anyways.”

Your teasing smile makes his shoulders tighten and his head snap back in your direction, “I am not flustered,” he corrected, cheeks reddening, “maybe just discombobulated.”

“Uh huh,” you grin, “Of course, your highness. Are you too good for a little flirting, now?”

“Oh, Lucifer Morningstar is never not ready for a little flirting,” he smirked, trying to hold himself together under your gentle touch.

“Oh yeah? Hit me with your best line.”

“I—“ He struggled, “Uhm. Okay, well maybe I’m a little rusty.”

You rake your fingers through his feathers once more, softening them to the touch, “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that the king of hell had game.”

“I do ‘have game,’ excuse you,” he did air quotes with his hands, “You just put me on the spot. It doesn’t help what you’re doing with my wings, either.” 

His snobbish royalty tone was alarmingly present and he had his arms crossed as he pouted.

It’s true, usually, Lucifer was quite the flirt. If there’s one thing he knew about himself is that he was a hit with the ladies, in his experience, at least.

But maybe it’s because you’re the first person he’s been on a date with since Lilith. Or maybe it’s the way you’re softly raking your fingers through his knotted feathers. Either way, it was making his brain feel fuzzy.

“I’ll believe when I see it, Luci,” you laugh to yourself.

“Oh, i’ll get you good when I catch you off guard, believe me.” Lucifer bragged.

After a moment, the laughter died down as you focused on your work. Every now and then you drew long content sighs from Lucifer. 

Although you seemed happy enough with the silence, Lucifer squirmed uneasily. He felt guilt build up in his stomach.

“So this is some date, huh? Curtesy of the King of Hell, you’re welcome,” he said glumly, picking at a scratch in his marble floor, “Sorry I couldn’t have made this more enjoyable.”

You caught him off guard with a deep, warm-hearted laugh. The kind that made him else feel like he’s  missed a totally obvious joke or reference.

“What’s so funny?” Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed by your response.

“Luci, we’re in literal hell. Compared to everyone else in shit-hole, you’re one of the better people I’ve dated.” You smiled, freshening up a few feathers, “There, done. Good as new.”

Lucifer grabbed a mirror from off the table and examined your work before realizing what was just said.

“Dating?” his spirits rise, hands coming up to his chest before turning to you, “Are we dating?”

The surprise on your face makes him smile cockily. “Catch you off guard, with that one?” he brags.

“In your dreams,” you recover quickly, “And, yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” You look at his expectant face, he grinned brightly.

“Well, you heard it yourself, pretty boy. It seems like we’re dating now,” you laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb.

Completely dumbly, he giggles and leans in your touch.

“Wow,” he simply says. He rests against your hand for a while longer before you pull him in for a kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet while it lasts, and when you break apart, you pepper kisses on his cheeks and nose.

“Stop it, stop!” he laughs as you come to another finish on his lips. “So, uh, do you still want me to take you out?”

“Actually, where’s your tv in this place? Let’s watch a movie, instead.”

And so you do, cuddled up on the couch together with Lucifer’s newly groomed wings draped over you both. 

He nuzzled into your chest, desperate for human contact after being alone for so long. And oh, he was especially glad he was getting it from you.

a/n — Was listening to sparks by coldplay ON REPEAT while writing this, so that’s why the title is like that <3

[ellemj]

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 5

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4 first for the full effect.**

Summary: As the night drags on, Bucky continues helping you through the peak activity of the chemical compound that you were both exposed to.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex, profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), near-somnophilia, dry humping, praise, possessive!Bucky, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings &lt;3

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: I'm living for y'alls reactions to this series over the last few days. Thank you all SOOO much for the continued support and unbelievably kind words. I hope this part does something for you all, hehe. Also, I apologize for any errors you may find. I only proofread it once and I kinda half-assed it. I hate proofreading my own work.

After sleeping the longest stretch so far tonight, you wake up at 2 am with excessively sore legs and a dire need to pee. You debate for a moment whether or not it’s smart to get up, taking into account how unstable you feel as soon as you push the covers back and seat yourself on the edge of the bed. You’re beginning to realize that maybe 75% of your pain and soreness is from the chemical that’s still working in your system, while the other 25% is from having sex with a super soldier. You peek over your shoulder at the man who lays on the other side of the bed, sleeping soundly with his lips parted the tiniest bit. Something stirs deep in the pit of your stomach when you look at him. That’s new. You brush it off as being another onslaught of arousal that you’re going to be experiencing against your will. You lean over and retrieve your panties from the floor, sliding them up your legs silently. You’re sure that they’ll just end up right back on the floor, but with two loads of cum having been thoroughly fucked into you in the last few hours, you don’t want to risk anything dripping down your leg on your trek to the bathroom.

            You move slowly, pushing yourself up to a standing position and steadying yourself with a hand on the bedside table before making your way to the door. As you reach the threshold, the pain in your legs intensifies to a much less bearable level and you freeze, your right hand raising up to grip the door frame for support. You just need to make it ten feet down the hall and into the bathroom and you’ll be fine. Of course, it’s not going to go that easily for you. Has anything gone according to plan tonight? No. You hear Bucky stir behind you, the covers rustling as he awakes.

            “Where are you going?” His sleepy voice tugs at you, making you look over your shoulder again. He’s propped up on one elbow now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and then narrowing them in your direction.

            “I have to pee. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whisper. Why are you whispering? You’re the only two people in this house and you’re both awake now. Maybe it’s the darkness of the house making you feel like it’s supposed to be quiet hours.

            “Why are you holding onto the door frame?” He questions. It takes him less than two seconds to figure out the scene in front of him. He doesn’t know why you have to be so stubborn and insistent on doing shit yourself all the time. You’re no different in the field. Before you can answer him, he’s climbing out of bed and slipping his boxers back on. You close your eyes and sigh, not even needing to look back to know what he’s doing. Suddenly, you feel the warmth radiating off of his body behind you, then his flesh hand lands on your lower back.

            “I’m not completely useless, James.” You mutter, letting go of the door frame and taking a step forward. The pain in your thighs makes you feel as though your legs might give out with just that one step. You suck in a harsh breath and freeze for a second time.

            “Right.” If you weren’t so focused on keeping your balance and fighting back tears of agony, you’d have already shoved him away from you. He keeps his hand on your lower back, not daring to scoop you up and carry you to the bathroom like he wants to. Instead, he lets you move at your own pace down the hall. As slow as a fucking turtle. James. You’ve never called him that before. Maybe putting his dog tags around your neck reminded you that he’s called things other than just Bucky, or Barnes, or ass. He takes that as you being one step closer to giving him what he wants most tonight.

            Once you finally reach the bathroom door, he lets you step inside alone. But as soon as you move to shut the door between the two of you, he stops it with his vibranium hand.

            “The door stays open.” His tone is no different than the one that you hear him use so often in the field, the one that he uses when he thinks he can give you orders like the sergeant he is. It’s never worked on you before and it sure as hell won’t now.

            “I’m not letting you watch me pee.” You argue, trying to push the door closed again. Your efforts are fruitless, no match for his strength and his determination to keep the door open.

            “Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t want to watch. I’m going to stand out here and wait, but I don’t feel like busting down the damn door if you fall.” You almost laugh. Not wanting him to see the small smile that’s beginning to turn up the corners of your mouth, you give in and turn around, heading over to the toilet. As you face the door once more, you watch Bucky step to the side so he’s just behind the wall, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy. You relieve yourself quickly, but as you’re standing up and pulling your panties back into place, a fresh wave of stinging pain travels down your spine, making you lurch forward and grab onto the edge of the sink for support. Bucky hears your hands land on the hard granite and he hears the way your breathing quickly changes from its usual calm rhythm to a quickened rhythm of discomfort. He wastes no time stepping into the small bathroom, placing himself behind you and looking at you in the mirror.

            “What is it?” He asks, looking you over with a worried expression. Normally that worried expression would annoy you out in the field. He gets the same look when you come to the end of a firefight and he isn’t sure if you’re injured or not, or when you haven’t been responding on comms. It’s always made you feel like he thinks you can’t handle yourself. So, why now do you feel cared for?

            “Just the same shit we’ve been dealing with all night.” You answer after taking in a deep, shaky breath. Unexpectedly, his hands end up on your hips. You’re starting to get used to him doing that. Instead of his touch giving you at least some minimal relief, your pain doesn’t subside. You wonder if maybe it’s because he’s touching you over your t-shirt. Maybe skin-to-skin contact is what you need right now. “Touch me.” Your words come out as a whisper, your eyes meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. Something flashes in his eyes, something that you think must be surprise at your request. Of course you’d write it off as that. It was actually a flash of desire, as your words immediately sent all of the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. He knows that you only asked him to touch your skin, without any ulterior motives. He knows that. It’s his dick that doesn’t get the memo. He places his flesh palm across the middle of your back, pushing you forward gently until you’re bent over the sink. Adrenaline begins coursing through your veins and anticipation warms your core. You didn’t know how much you needed this again. He fingers the hem of your shirt, stealing one more look at you in the mirror before slowly sliding it up your back. As soon as your black panties are revealed to him, he lets out a barely audible groan. He closes his eyes for a second, gathering himself, before pushing your shirt up further until it rests near your shoulders. He lets his hands run down your back now, his flesh hand warm and soft and his vibranium hand cool and soothing. You feel the stinging pain along your spine easing in the slightest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

            “Where does it hurt?” As he bends his upper body over yours, you feel his bare torso making contact with your back, his crotch so close to pressing against your ass. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks in the most tender yet sexually-charged tone you’ve ever heard fall from a man’s mouth.

            “My back.” You answer him promptly, the pain evident in your voice. You’re ready for whatever it is that he might do to help you. As much as you hate to say it, you’re looking forward to whatever he might do. He slides his hands up your back again, before dragging them back down just like he did before. It’s not enough for you. You wonder if it’s enough for him, and the easiest way to get an answer to your question is to arch your back a little and push your ass back against him. You feel the hard outline of his cock line up with your ass and you can’t help the giggle that sneaks past your lips. Infuriating. He finds you fucking infuriating.

            “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is tense and you note the way the muscle along the side of his jaw is flexed. He’s quick to grip your waist, holding you still against the edge of the sink. His gaze narrows at you in the mirror and you think he looks almost bothered, but a little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you to test the waters.

            “Hmm?” You grind your ass back again, expecting him to stop you by utilizing his hold on your waist, but he simply looks down at your ass as it rubs against his boner. You can’t read his face now. Is he bothered? Turned on? Does he want to fuck again? Bucky can barely even read himself. His cock is as hard as it’s been every other time you’ve been this close to him tonight, but within his mind, he’s warring with himself. He held himself back both of the previous times that you had sex. He was careful, diluting the strength and intensity with which he fucked you. He still fully enjoyed it, in fact, it was the best sex he’s ever had. But he was scared he’d hurt you, or even worse, that he’d get so lost chasing his own relief that he wouldn’t even notice he was practically using you.

            He lets you continue your ministrations for a few seconds, watching intently as you grind against him, your back arched and your hair cascading over your shoulder. You’re so damn pretty like this that it hurts him to look at you for too long. Especially when he’s not currently inside you. He could probably stand to look at you longer if he was buried deep inside of you.

            An idea crosses his mind. Something that he hadn’t been clear-minded enough to think about either of the other two times that you had sex tonight. He wants to taste you.

First, he’s going to make you scream his name while he draws an orgasm from you with only his mouth and fingers, and then he’s going to make you moan his name while he fucks your pussy.

            “You know, you’ve been such a good girl tonight.” Oh my god. He did not just call you that. Bucky fucking Barnes did not just call you a good girl while his hard-on is pressed against your ass. The movement of your hips falters, but he watches as your cheeks begin to burn pink in the mirror and your eyes widen at his words. He’s found a weakness of yours.

You feel his fingertips slide beneath the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs in one deft movement. You kick them off to the side and you don’t miss the smug smile painted across his face while he watches you comply so readily. His foot moves between yours now, nudging them further apart. You fully expect him to strip off his own boxers and fuck you next. Instead, he leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your left shoulder, then your right shoulder, and then he ghosts his lips all the way down your spine. A chill runs through your body, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. What the hell is he doing? You can’t even form the words to question him, especially not when his hands begin kneading your ass as he gets down on his knees behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You steal his last question, but your voice is far more shaky and unsure than his was. Suddenly, his hands spread your ass cheeks apart and he circles the tip of his tongue over your clit. “OH MY GOD,” you cry out, completely powerless to do anything other than grip the edge of the sink and scrunch your eyes closed, your back arching even more than it was before.

“Hmm?” The sound he makes causes vibrations to run through his tongue and straight to your clit, drawing another loud moan from you. You can’t think of a single thing to say, you can’t think at all really. He eats you out like it’s the sole cure for the damn chemical that he inhaled earlier tonight.  He focuses his mouth on your clit, switching between licking and sucking at it, memorizing the way you taste. You’re seeing stars less than thirty seconds after he sunk down to his knees. Bucky. His name is the only thing in your brain. You bite down on your bottom lip with a bruising force. As you fight to hold back from moaning his name, your right hand reaches up and grasps the dog tags around your neck, running your thumb over the inscription as he pleasures you with his mouth. James B Barnes. You feel yourself getting undeniably close to your orgasm, and he must realize it because he only increases his efforts.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He taunts, reaching up and rubbing circles against your clit with his fingers as he waits for your response. You nod, but knowing he can’t see you from his current position between your legs, you choke out a breathy answer.

“I’m so fucking close, J—” You cut yourself off abruptly before you slip up and say his name.

“What was that on the end there? Go on, say it.” He eggs you on, pride flaring in his chest at the fact that you almost said his first name. He was so close to hearing it. You shake your head, more to yourself than him, refusing to open your mouth again. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me, Y/n.” You hear him tsk beneath you and you fear he’s going to stop everything. That is, until you feel his mouth attach to your clit once more and then…

            “JAMES!” You scream his name so loud that you’re sure any enemy surveillance within a three-mile radius heard you. You couldn’t help it, you didn’t even think about it as it left your lips. He plunged two fingers into you without warning and curled them, all while flattening his tongue against your clit and giving you the most perfect, wet friction there.

You screamed his fucking name.

            Bucky was full of pride and possessiveness, and so unbelievably horny. He put everything he had into drawing an orgasm out of you with his mouth and fingers, and in the end, he had you cumming so hard that you were grinding into his mouth with your left hand behind you, gripping onto his hair. You screamed his name a total of three times before your shaking legs threatened to send you tumbling to the floor, and Bucky couldn’t stand not being inside of you anymore.

            That brings you to where you are now: bent over the bathroom sink with Bucky thrusting his cock into you from behind. His right hand is fisting your hair at the back of your head, making sure you can’t move to look at anything other than the reflection of him fucking the shit out of you. It’s as if a damn broke when you screamed his name the first time and now his name falls from your lips repeatedly as you moan and meet each of his thrusts, desperately chasing your second orgasm. He nearly comes undone when he hears a soft Bucky, please under your breath.

            “That’s it, Y/n, say my fucking name.” He groans out, his hips snapping into you a little harder as you make eye contact with him in the mirror. Your eyes are begging him to let you cum. “You wanna cum on my cock, don’t you?” He goads, that familiar, frustrating smirk taking over his features. You nod your head as he fucks into you roughly, the sounds of his skin pounding against yours only making you wetter around his cock.

            “Please, please Bucky. I need to cum.” You beg. You beg. Shit, he’s going to lose it. A deep, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as his head falls back and he moves his hands to your hips, his fingertips digging into your skin and definitely leaving bruises behind.

            “Go ahead, cum for me.” He commands, rutting into you and hitting just the right spot to send you careening over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you and sends butterflies from your stomach, down to your pussy. You clench around him so hard that his own orgasm lurches forward. “Shit, just like that, baby, take it.” He lets go inside you, filling you up with more cum than the last two rounds combined. There’s so much cum that you can feel it dripping down his shaft as he continues to slowly fuck his hard cock into you. You’re so close to begging him not to pull out. You want to ask him to just stay here like this, to let you memorize what it’s like to have him inside of you like this. You’re falling off the deep end.

---

            “Shh, I wasn’t going to wake you.” Bucky whispers against the side of your neck. You blink the sleep from your eyes, trying to remember where you are. You’re wide awake once you feel the head of his cock slipping past your folds and sliding halfway inside you.

            “Bucky…” You whimper at the unexpected penetration, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. Your entrance is so sore from the three other times that you’ve fucked tonight. The feel of his cock sliding in and out of you at a gentle, steady pace grounds you. He’s spoon-fucking you in bed. You both crashed after he took you from behind in the bathroom earlier, and instead of you being the first one to wake up this time, it was him. He woke up so hard and desperate to feel you again. He wanted to let you sleep as long as you possibly could, especially when you looked so comfortable and peaceful in bed next to him, but he needed to hear you say his name again. He fucks you so slowly and tenderly that you can feel every single inch of him as he takes his time with you. You lean back into him, hooking your left leg back and over his legs as he continues his work. He takes your change of position as a go-ahead and his vibranium hand travels up your side, slipping underneath your shirt and grasping one of your tits. Fuck. He hasn’t touched you there before. You moan as he does what he wants with your body, each of your orgasms building up at a leisurely pace. Something about the way he’s fucking you this time feels so much more intimate, so much more like making love. You know you should hate it. You should want to go back to the rough, near hate-sex you were having earlier tonight, but you can’t find it within yourself to change a damn thing.

            “You’re so perfect…” Bucky whimpers in your ear. He attaches his lips to the skin just below your ear. You feel his tongue on your skin, licking and then sucking far too gently to leave any visible mark. He wants to mark you up. God, he wants to mark you up. But he knows better than to let anyone find out about any of this. While Bucky is busy reminding himself not to leave any visible marks on your skin, you’re seconds away from giving him the only other thing he wanted tonight. He keeps massaging your neck, the curve of your jaw, and the shell of your ear with his lips and tongue. Without a single thought in your mind, you turn your head to him and press your lips against his. Every muscle in his body freezes, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you. You know you shouldn’t have done it, but now that you’re doing it, you can’t stop. You kiss him harder, sucking on his bottom lip and moaning against him. Bucky thinks he could cum just from this, from being inside you completely still while you kiss him. He wastes no time now, his vibranium hand tilting your chin up for him and giving him a good angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Fuck.

Your mouth tastes as good as your cunt.

Next Part

TAG LIST:

@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @walkingwithoutreason @bubblevicioussss @larajadeschmidt13 @thealloveru2 @unaxv @crist1216 @joannaromanoff @jenniferpendragon @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut @sydneylaufeyson22 @tinakham

[moonstruckme]

hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm

That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3

cw: bar

rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 

These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 

Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 

You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 

A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 

During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 

Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 

Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 

The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 

“You’re not bad at that.” 

You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 

“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 

You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 

“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 

You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 

Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 

His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 

Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 

He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 

“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 

“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”

[togrowoldinv]

A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

[pix3lplays]

Hihi Pixel~ Hope this ask finds you well. :D

I just know that Gallagher is a gruff, grumpy guy but is an absolute soft, gentle giant for his s/o. Big scary dog man but absolute puppy for you. What do you think he’d be like as a family man? With you and your kids? I think he’d want children. OTL

Make sure to water yourself and rest when you need it. 🫶

Thank you for all the good food content you give us skxjdkd-

Hiiii Roro! I’ve been alright, thank you and YES let’s discuss papa Gallagher-

Notes/CW: Written before we know literally anything about Gallagher, just some fun speculation right now! Reader gets pregnant accidentally

And credits to @fire-lizard-ro for help with ideas

-Gallagher as a family man-

To be honest, he’s thought about it. Thought about starting a little family with you. But for whatever reason, he just can’t bring himself to ask.

Even with your little comments in passing about extending the Bloodhound family bloodline. He just can’t bring himself to mention it. He’s a busy man, he doesn’t Really have time to raise a family, he genuinely believes that he wouldn’t be a good dad, that he can’t give his children the time and attention they need…heck, he feels like he can’t even provide properly for YOU.

So he’s happy with just the two of you for now. Maybe in the future, but for now, he was okay with just the two of you.

Until he came home from yet another long day at work, to see you standing awkwardly in the living room, a hard to read expression on your face.

Then you hold it up. A positive pregnancy test in your hand. You look…overwhelmed. Scared. But excited, too. “Gallagher…” you whisper, tears pricking your eyes, your body shaking with anxiety.

He’s wrapped you up in his arms in a second, stroking your back as he kisses your forehead. “It’s alright…y/n…it’s going to be okay…” he’s saying to you.

You’re wrapped in his arms, smelling his cologne, and you feel so warm and safe, like everything really was going to be okay.

You talk about it in bed that night. You ask him if he wants to have a baby with you. And he takes your hands, pulls them against his chest, and tells you that Yes he would LOVE to raise a child with you. It puts you at ease. You sleep well that night, dreaming of your baby, what they’ll look like, what their personality will be like, how happy they’ll be with Gallagher as their papa…

Things look good.

The pregnancy progresses well enough, even if you’re often apart because he’s so busy with his job. But you and his child-to-be are always on his mind. You are always the first thing he asks about when he gets home. “How are you? How’s the baby?”

The way he kneels and places his forehead on your stomach, feeling with his hands for your baby. He feels the little kick, and he looks up at you with shining eyes, and you put a hand on his scratchy chin. Your husband was so handsome. He was going to be such a good father, you were sure of it.

He’s so protective of you, calling you often to check on you and the baby. He would literally drop everything, his job, his title, Anything if you were in trouble and needed him.

He remained very stoic when his first child was born. A beautiful little girl. His daughter…

He didn’t cry when he held her, but you could see the silent tears in his eyes. He loves her, so much. His little girl.

He hates that he can’t be around for her as much as he’d like to be. He wasn’t really anticipating the affect this would have on his daughter as she got a little older, he thought for sure she would just grow to distrust him, maybe even hate him.

But no, as soon as she was old enough to walk, she would always wake up before he left for the day (which is really early) in her little jacket and shoes.

“Papa! Take me with you!”

She clings to his leg, won’t let go, every single day.

It breaks his heart to have to pry his crying daughter off of his leg and leave her behind while she begs him to take her with him to work.

He’s trying to figure it out. What he can do to help his daughter feel less alone. And…well. He does have an idea. One he thinks you’ll probably like.

He doesn’t end up being the one to suggest it though, because one night at the dinner table, your daughter lets her mind be heard.

“I WANT A SIBLING,” she demands, and Gallagher clears his throat awkwardly while your eyes glitter.

“A sibling?” you ask, reaching over and touching your husband on the arm while you look at your daughter.

She nods, looking determined.

“Your father and I will discuss it,” you say, smiling, and Gallagher gives her a gentle look.

“Papa?” Your daughter asks, before giving her biggest puppy dog eyes.

He sighs, does his best to be stern. “Finish your broccoli and I’ll consider it.”

The demand is unreasonable to her, but she wants a sibling badly enough.

-

“Well?” you ask, strolling into the bedroom with a dreamy look in your eyes. “Our daughter wants a sibling…what do you think?”

His response is quicker and more determined than you were expecting. “I say we do it. She deserves it, and…”

You know his mornings are pretty hard, with her constantly clinging to his leg and begging to go to work with him.

“Yeah…maybe if she had a little sibling to look after, you’ll be able to get out the door without issue.”

Don’t get him wrong, he loves that his little girl adores him. It’s just as hard on him though, leaving her behind, knowing she just wants to be with her papa.

The next pregnancy goes smoothly, with your little girl and your husband getting more and more excited by the day.

It’s a beautiful little boy.

Which worked out pretty well, considering the Bloodhound family needed a male heir to inherit the family. Old-fashioned for sure, but that was just how it was. For now.

Things were looking good after a few years. You now had two little bodies sneaking their way into your shared bed. Not that Gallagher minded. You suspected the man actually slept better with his children close.

Unfortunately the problem with him leaving was…still an issue. Except now he had two little bodies begging to go to work with him. Two little bodies sitting on his shoes as he tried to put on his coat and get out the door.

He felt bad waking you up at four in the morning to help him with the kids, but he didn’t see much of a choice.

You were pretty annoyed, but couldn’t be mad at him. You could never be mad at Gallagher. But you needed to figure out something, because having your children cry by the front door for an hour because papa left wasn’t really gonna work for you.

Gallagher does the only sensible thing, and brings home a puppy one day after consulting you of course.

It actually works, at least. Your kids are still up at four a.m. but they’re up playing with the puppy instead of begging Papa to take them to work.

He kinda misses it, to be honest.

-

As a father and a family man, Gallagher is THE gentle giant.

Kind, soft spoken. But firm when he needs to be.

His kids are well-behaved, considerate, but just as tough as their papa.

His daughter intends to inherit the family name, while his son would rather become some sort of traveler, like the Nameless.

He’s supportive of his kids of course. But also. Worried. So worried. He wants them to be safe and happy and live long, fulfilling lives, and if those are the paths they want to take then very well, he’ll support them. He’ll make it work out for them.

His kids are Fascinated by his scars. He sits his kids on his lap when he gets home and just rolls up his sleeves and lets his children look at his scars. He makes up fantastical stories about how he got them, saying something different each time.

His personal favorite is the one he got protecting you, also a different story each time…

Ok this is literally all I could think up for now so…here ya go!

[irb-pascalito-99]

Worship You

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 5.7 k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: After she experiences a death in the family, Joel tries to give his girl some space to grieve. When she tells him all she wants is him, he makes sure to show her how much he cares about her.

Warnings: grief, mentions of death, mentions of driving under the influence, smut, unprotected p in v, creampie

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter fourteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing please visit a03.

By the time we finally get to Joel’s house, the sun is beginning to rise. The girls are asleep upstairs when we get in, but Tommy and Maria wait in the living room for us.

When I enter the room Tommy stands up, walks across the room, and gives me a hug. I stand with my arms at my side as he holds me for a minute.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy says as he squeezes me. I blink a couple times, my tired eyes hurting from fighting the sleep that I need.

When Tommy pulls away he holds my shoulders and analyzes me for a moment. I can feel all the eyes in the room on me, waiting for some sort of reaction. I take a step away from Tommy so he will let go of me.

“Anyone hungry?” I ask. I walk past Maria and Tommy into the kitchen, looking at the contents of Joel’s fridge for something to cook. “I could really use some dinner, but I guess at this point maybe breakfast is the better call…”

The others follow after me as I pull the eggs out of the fridge and grab some bread, cinnamon, and sugar out of the pantry. Joel says my name softly to get my attention while I search the cabinets for some bowls.

“French toast sounds good to me, anyone else want some?” I glance over at the others. Tommy looks confused while Maria and Joel share a similar look of concern. “No?”

Joel says my name again. I pull my attention away from him, grabbing an egg and cracking it into one of the bowls I pulled out. I feel Joel walk up behind me. He grabs the second egg out of my hand before I can add it to the bowl with the other. He holds my hand still as he says my name again.

“You need to sleep,” he says softly.

“But I’m making french toast,” I say. I keep my eyes on the counter.

“I’ll make you french toast when you wake up,” Joel responds.

“It’s already tomorrow though,” I retort. “I have work, Ellie has school. There’s no time to sleep.”

“Work and school can wait for another day. They’ll understand.” I let Joel pull me away from the kitchen, but he doesn’t get farther than the living room. Maria and Tommy stand back and watch our conversation.

“I don’t have anywhere to sleep,” I say, continuing to argue.

I can feel how heavy my eyes are, but I’m not ready to sleep. Sleep cements everything that just happened into reality. I have too much to do, and I don’t want to think of what dreams may bring me.

“You can sleep in my room, I’ll stay on the couch until you guys are ready to go home.” I shake my head. I can’t take Joel’s room from him, even though I know he won’t let me refuse.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ll give you some of my clothes to sleep in, and we can stop by your house when you wake up for new clothes.” I try to wrack my brain for other excuses.

“There’s too much else to do. I have to get my car from the school. I have to tell Bill and Frank. I have to call Ellie’s school. I have to call the funeral home. I have to write the obituary.” I count each item on my fingers, staring at the floor as I think of more items to add. Joel places a finger under my chin and tilts my head up to look at him.

“Sleep first, we’ll figure out the rest later.” He says with a look in his eyes telling me there’s no room for argument. I sigh and let him direct me toward the stairs. He keeps his hand pressed lightly between my shoulder blades as he walks behind me up the stairs.

I can barely hear the muttered voices of Maria and Tommy downstairs as Joel drags me away. When we get to his room he walks me inside and lets go of me as he closes the door. He turns away to start rifling through his drawers for something I can wear to sleep in.

I hadn’t thought about the fact that I didn’t have clothes at his house before. We may be together in some sense, but every time I’ve spent the night before we slept with our naked bodies tangled in the sheets. It feels more intimate to be wearing his clothes to bed.

I start to take my clothes off while his back is still turned to me, figuring it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He immediately averts his eyes when he turns around to see me standing in only my underwear. I feel a rush of rejection at the movement. He’s never looked away before. Joel clears his throat and holds the shirt and sweatpants out to me.

“Here you go, might be a little bit but it should do.” He keeps his eyes on the floor, even when I take the clothes from his hand.

He doesn’t look in my direction until I’ve pulled both the shirt and sweatpants over my body. It feels absurd that only 24 hours ago I had my mouth wrapped around his cock while he slept and now he can’t even look at me while I change. I can’t tell if it hurts more or if I’m angry that he's treating me like I'm delicate.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Joel says motioning his head to the door. “You get some sleep.”

He walks to the doorway while I stand in the middle of the room watching him. What just happened?

“Joel,” I call after him when he opens the door to leave. He turns his head in my direction. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“You’re welcome,” he says and leaves the room.

—

We spent the first full day after my father’s death at Joel’s house. Despite my attempts to keep things normal, my friends are constantly watching me as though I’m seconds away from falling apart. I know it stems from a place of concern, but it only sets me more on edge. My every move is being observed and analyzed. Everyone is walking around me like they’re walking on eggshells. I don’t know how to convince them I’m fine without them thinking I’m in denial.

Ellie still doesn’t want to go home yet, so Joel offered to let us stay at his house at least until after the funeral. Maria comes by in the mornings and doesn’t leave until after we all go to bed. Joel sleeps on the couch. I haven’t been alone with him since he handed me his clothes to sleep in the morning we came back from the hospital.

When Joel offered to let me sleep in his room, I thought he would make his way into the bed after the others had fallen asleep. After the awkwardness of when he handed me his clothes, I thought maybe he just wanted to give me some space to actually sleep for a bit, or maybe he was concerned about others perceiving the relationship we’ve attempted to keep quiet. I held out hope that maybe come night time when everyone left I’d feel the warmth of his body next to mine again. I stayed awake for hours that night, just in case, but he never came. It’s been a couple days since then, and still nothing.

Today I have to do a couple of errands to ensure things are ready for the funeral tomorrow, the first of which is picking up clothes from the house. Maria stopped by the house a couple of days ago to pick up clothes for Ellie and I to where while we stay at Joel’s, but I haven’t been back since I left with Joel to pick up Ellie and Sarah from their trip.

Maria parks the car in the driveway alongside mine and, upon my insistence, waits outside for me while I go in. On top of the lingering stares, and the constant pressure of being surrounded by people, between Maria and Joel I have not been allowed to drive at all in the last several days. They went so far as to pick up my car from the school parking lot while I was asleep that first morning. They brought it back here after and hid the keys.

When I go inside the house it seems exactly the same as it always does. Mine and Ellie’s things are strewn about the various rooms. I’ll have to make sure to come back and clean before we have the wake here tomorrow. Sunlight streams through the open blinds, sending beams of light across the hardwood floors. I feel like I’m disturbing things in a way, like our home has been preserved in a world before the news and my presence forces the grief upon the space.

I move slowly up the stairs, taking in the tranquility of my surroundings. I don’t have to watch myself here, I can just be. I go to Ellie’s room first, delicately opening the drawers to her dresser. I thumb through various shirts until I find the black sweater she wore to our mother’s funeral.

I run my fingers over the soft cotton of the yarn. I remember her tears that day, the way she refused to look at me for weeks after the accident. I remember asap the fights we had in the months I first moved back. She used to scream at me and remind me that I’m not her mother.

We’ve made so much progress since then. It’s been hard to get the relationship to where it is now, but I can’t help but wonder if we’re headed back to that kind of relationship with the passing of our dad. She’s been so quiet since his passing, it’s hard to read where she’s at. I do my best to push the thought out of my head as I grab the black slacks that finish her outfit and move on to grab mine.

I keep my funeral dress in the back of my closet. A simple black piece with short sleeves, it used to be a dress I would wear regularly. I can’t stand to look at it now, the memory of my mother’s loss dripping off of its fabric. I made sure to save it for the next one though. I grab a small bag from my closet and throw Ellie’s clothes, along with my dress and a pair of opaque tights and black heels, inside.

I glance at my bed from the doorway before I leave. Joel took the time to make it before we went to pick up the girls that afternoon. I stood back and watched him after he declared I wasn’t doing it right. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration as he tucked the corners in neatly. I close my eyes and sigh as I move on.

The last of my father’s things are hidden in the far corner of the closet in the art studio. We kept his nicest suit in a garment bag there, anticipating the need for exactly this, the outfit he will wear to his own funeral. Because the room was originally the master bedroom, the closet is large and I’ve put a lot of things inside to store. Which means I have to walk past stacks of art, both mine and my mother’s, to get to the bag I’m looking for.

The large canvas Joel and I painted last weekend rests by the door among my stack of Joel paintings. My eyes linger on its bright colors as I pass. It feels silly to be so insecure after only days of little romantic interaction with him. It’s not like he’s gone, or even like he’s ignoring me. I see him everyday. I talk to him every day. He shows me he cares every day. However, I can’t help but play the moment with the clothes over in my mind again. I remind myself of his absence in the bed each night. I know there’s a possibility he’s just trying to maintain our secret, but I can’t help wondering if he sees me as weak now. What if that spark is gone?

I tear my eyes away from the painting and grab what I need. Then I turn out the lights and head back down the stairs. When I walk outside with the two bags in my hands. Maria rushes to my side to grab one of the bags when I pause to lock the door again. I ignore the way my stomach clenches in frustration. She just wants to help, but I can’t help feeling like everyone is treating me as though I’m fragile.

We put the bags in the back seat of her car. I don’t look at her as I get in the passenger seat, eyes peering at my car in the driveway next to hers. A lump forms in my throat as I continue to fight against my anger. They won’t even let me drive my own car.

“You good?” Maria asks as she gets in beside me. Her eyes scan my face while I adjust my seat belt.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I reply, keeping my eyes on the front windshield. Maria looks over me once more before putting on her own seatbelt and pulling out of the driveway.

Despite my arguments against it, Maria does go into the funeral home with me. She follows me awkwardly through the building, observing my every movement. She stays quiet, but always just a step behind, while the funeral director asks me questions and we pick out options for the service.

I wasn’t very present with the planning for my mother’s funeral. Bill and Frank took over most of that for me, claiming I needed to focus my energy on Ellie. It was a reprieve I gladly accepted then, but one I refuse now. It’s nice to have something to do, to have a distraction amidst it all.

A good number of things had already been decided beforehand since his health had been declining for so long. The last steps are really just finalizing the details. Who will be performing the service? Where? Which coffin did we want to use? What will he wear for the viewing? Working out the details has given me a chance for some normalcy in my life while everyone attempts to get me to step back. Even now, when we drop off the clothes my father is to wear at the viewing tomorrow. I’m acutely aware of Maria’s wandering stare beside me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks, her hands toying with the edges of the garment bag I’ve placed on the counter. I drum my fingers across the counter while we wait for the funeral director to come get the clothes so we can be on our way.

It’s just the two of us in the empty showroom up front. The funeral director went to the backroom for a moment to put the file of our selections away. She offered to bring me back there as well, to give me a chance to view the body before tomorrow. I declined. I don’t want to see him, not now and not at the viewing tomorrow. I just want this to be over. My refusal just seemed to set Maria more on edge.

“I’m fine,” I respond. I keep my attention on the door to the back room.

“It’s okay if you’re not…” Maria pushes. My fingers tighten on the edge of the counter. I take a deep breath and try to keep the bitterness out of my voice when I speak again.

“I said I’m fine okay?” There’s some movement through the window in the door to the bathroom as the funeral director makes her way back to us. “I know he died, but he’s been gone for a while. This doesn’t change anything. If anything, it’s for the best actually.”

Maria and I both go silent when the director comes back out to collect the rest of our items. Maria’s eyes don’t leave the back of my head as the director and I discuss the last few details before the funeral tomorrow. I try to ignore the way her eyes burn into me as I talk.

I walk quickly when we leave, Maria trailing behind me with the car keys in her hand. I wait at the passenger door of her locked car in the parking lot while she catches up with me.

“What do you mean it’s for the best?” Maria asks when she gets to the car. She doesn’t unlock the doors. I sigh and stare up at the sky.

“Maria…” I huff, but she isn’t letting go.

“What do you mean it’s for the best?” She asks again.

I debate on taking off and walking instead. Despite the fact it’s still early February, the weather is extremely nice. There’s a slight chill to the air but with the sun it should be warm enough to walk. That is, if I knew Maria wouldn’t follow me down the road in her car.

“I mean, even if he had by some miracle lived, he would have gone to prison,” I say. Maria and I stare at each other over the hood of the car. She looks concerned, but doesn't judge as I continue. “He decided to drive drunk and he killed two people, now he’s dead. It really is the best possible outcome for him. His little angel will clean up all the pieces for him. The rest of us just go on living and he never has to face the consequences of his actions.”

The weight of what I’ve said lingers in the air. It sounds callous, said out loud. I’m not even sure if that’s the full extent of what I’m feeling right now, but it’s the simplest version to explain. Mourning him doesn’t feel right, so I won’t. I settle on the anger instead, partially because it’s so overwhelming in the face of everything else, and partially because I don’t want to deal with the rest of my grief.

“He’s still your dad,” Maria says quietly. I bite my lip and look away. I know she’s right, but I can’t think of it that way.

“Maria, just drop it.” I plead quietly. She exhales and unlocks the door. I immediately open it and get inside.

—

Joel already has dinner prepared when we get home from our errands. Everyone sits down to eat together, but we maintain an awkward silence through the whole meal. Maria’s eyes keep glancing over at me as I shovel potatoes in my mouth and keep my eyes on the table. Tommy watches the friction between us from his seat beside Maria. He looks as though he wants to say something, but has no idea how to bring it up.

Ellie sits next to Sarah, quietly playing with her food. She hasn’t eaten much lately, but she takes bites from time to time so there’s something fueling her. Joel and I sit on opposite ends of the table. He watches everyone closely, noting the tension in the air as he cuts a piece of his pork chop.

“Is there anything you need help with for tomorrow?” Joel asks, his eyes on me. I look up at him, his expression soft as he offers his help.

“No,” I reply, trying to keep any emotion out of my voice.

“How was-“ Joel tries to ask but I cut him off.

“It was fine. I’m fine.” It comes out harsher than I meant it to.

I can see Joel and Maria exchange a glance in my periphery, which makes the anger turn in my stomach again. I take another bite of my food and get up to clear my plate. I rinse the dish and leave it in the sink before heading upstairs without speaking to the others.

A couple of hours after we all go our separate ways I hear the quiet sound of the doorknob turning and then a gentle click as it latches behind whoever entered the room. I don’t turn to see who it is. Moments later, the mattress sinks under the weight of another body as someone lays down next to me.

“You asleep?” Joel whispers. His breath fans against my shoulder. I nearly sob at the sound of his voice.

“No,” I whisper back. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest.

I close my eyes as I feel his face bury into my hair. He presses soft kisses to the back of my head. His hands rub gently up and down my arms. I inhale the scent of vanilla and wood I’ve come to associate with Joel’s presence.

“I really am fine you know,” I murmur. He kisses my hair again.

“I know,” he whispers back. I have a feeling he doesn’t fully believe me, or maybe he does but doesn’t expect it to last. Either way I don’t attempt to convince him any further.

I retreat into him, allowing his gentle caresses to pull out the most vulnerable sides of me. It’s exhausting trying to keep up the balancing act, being sad enough that my friends don’t think I’m psychotic while not being so sad that they think I’m drowning in grief. It has felt like I’m putting on a show instead of simply existing ever since my father passed. I’m too tired now, and Joel’s warmth is too comforting to keep up the facade.

“I’ve missed you,” I say into the dark room. Joel’s fingers brush against my arm again.

“I’ve been here,” he says. I shake my head.

“Not like this.” I murmur. Joel’s hand moves up my arm to pull the hair out of my face. He kisses the skin under my ear.

I turn my body around in the bed to face him. His hair falls in messy curls around his face. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He maintains a soft expression on his face, but I notice a hesitancy in him. I softly press my lips against the patch in his beard.

“I don’t want to push you.” Joel murmurs as I move my lips to his. I kiss him softly, our noses brushing against each other. “I don’t want it to be like how it was when Ellie was in the hospital. That wasn’t fair to you.”

I don’t understand what he means by ‘it wasn’t fair to me’. I wanted to be with him at that time just as much as he wanted to be with me. I didn’t feel like he pushed me to do anything, why would he?

“I know you have a lot on your mind right now,” Joel continues. “I don’t want you to think I expect anything. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to. That’s not what this is for me.”

“I want you,” I mumble against his lips. I kiss him again. My lips are firmer against his this time as I swipe my tongue against his bottom lip. “Please, I want you. I’m not weak or broken. I can drive my own car and make my own decisions. I want you.”

I try to be patient, to let him lead, but I wrap my hand around the thick muscles of his arm anyway. Going from an entire weekend of constant intimacy with Joel to nearly a week without touching him has made me hungry for his attention. His hands spread across my back, holding me delicately as he allows me to take what I need.

“You have me,” He responds while resting his forehead against mine.

“I want more of you. I need more.” I’m feeling desperate now. It’s not enough to be beside Joel, to feel his body wrapped around mine. One of his hands leaves my back and travels down to my bare thigh.

I’m only wearing panties and the oversized t-shirt he let me borrow to sleep in on the first night here. When he looks down at my clothing it’s as though he just now realized I’m wearing it. He grips my thigh harder, eyes darkening with lust when he pulls me in for another kiss.

His tongue slides into my mouth as I pull at the fabric of the shirt he is wearing, fighting to get him closer despite his entire body being pressed tightly against mine. He breaks the kiss only to allow me the space to pull the shirt over his head and then begin to kiss my neck softly.

Joel takes his time with all of it, his fingers delicately sliding under my shirt to glide against my bare skin. I twitch when his thumbs brush my nipples.

“Joel,” I whine. I push my hips against him, his hardening length making contact with my core.

He growls at the feeling, his hands squeezing me harder. He climbs on top of me, finally pulling my panties down my legs. I whine and attempt to grind against him but Joel presses my hips back down to the bed.

“Patience baby, let me do this for you.” I lose myself in his eyes, his hand slowly snaking between my thighs.

There’s something different about the way he touches me tonight. Each brush of his hand is deliberate. Just the slightest movement sends sparks across my skin. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he runs his finger through my folds. I push my head back a little, my lips parting though I’m careful to keep my eyes on his.

There’s a deeper connection between us this time around. His eyes communicate with mine wordlessly as he begins to rub circles against my bundle of nerves. He puts all his energy into showing me the words that fail him. It makes me squirm, not just from the pleasure he’s providing me but from the emotions involved in all of it. It’s too much to handle, too much to feel right now.

I move my hand down and pull him out of his underwear, hoping to pull some of his attention off of me. He hisses through his teeth when I grip his cock. I twist my wrist as I move my hand slowly up and down his shaft. His hips chase my hand despite the way his hand grips my wrist to get me to stop.

“Enough,” he growls, squeezing my wrist as I pump him again.

“Then fuck me already,” I whisper back. He pulls my hand off of him and pushes his boxers the rest of the way down.

I spread my legs further apart so he can nestle in between them. He rests against me, rubbing his swollen head through my folds as it leaks pre-come. I whine as he runs his length over where I need him most, but doesn’t push inside.

“Joel,” I plead. I push my hips up, the tip of him breaching my hole. He shivers as I pull him in, not moving from where he rests against me.

“Okay, okay sweetheart.” He keeps one hand on his cock as the other grabs my leg and hitches it around his waist. I have to bite my lip to keep from calling out as he pushes inside. My eyes flutter shut, but his fingers squeeze my leg and he pauses his movement. “Oh no you don’t. Keep your eyes on me darlin’.”

I force my eyes open again to make contact with his. He continues in one long, slow, motion until his hips are flush with mine. I expect him to immediately drive into me with the intense passion he normally does, but when I’m completely full of him he freezes again.

He drops his head to my shoulder and I huff in frustration as I wait for him to move. I can feel every ridge and vein of him as I pulse around his length, my wetness dripping around him. The house is silent aside from our hushed breaths. I’m desperate for some sort of motion, but he does not grant it to me.

I start to move instead, pressing my hips up and down the best I can while stuck between his body and the mattress. I go fast, settling for short bursts as I desperately try to get enough friction to build the pressure in my core again.

Joel pulls back slightly to give me more room, but it’s not enough. None of it is enough. He watches me through hooded eyes while I desperately attempt to set a good pace.

“Baby,” Joel murmurs. I feel something vaguely simmering inside me, but it’s nothing like what Joel normally provides. He mutters my name and grabs my hips, pressing them back to the mattress. I throw my head back on the pillow as he stills my movements. “Not like this, not tonight.”

He pulls out of me and kneels back on the bed, looking over my form carefully. I adjust my body on the bed, self conscious from his observing eyes.

“As much as I love this on you,” Joel says, tugging at the shirt that covers me. “I need to see all of you.”

He pulls his shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. I am bare to him now, his eyes roving over me not in lust but in worship. He looks over my body but stares into my soul. His hands skim my form delicately before he positions himself over me again and presses a delicate kiss to my lips.

I watch closely as his lips trail down my entire body. He kisses softly at my skin as though he’s trying to memorize how my skin feels pressed against his lips. He kisses down my neck, over my shoulders, across my chest. My stomach tenses as he kisses further down my body. I jolt when he lightly presses against my core, not in a sexual way like he has before but gentle and loving. He moves to my thighs next and down my legs, then back up again until he reaches my hips once more.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers to me and lines himself back up with my center. I pull my arms around his neck, my eyes staring into his as I await his next move.

He cages me in with his body, wrapping my legs around his waist while his arms rest on either side of my head, holding his upper body above me. He pushes back inside me with a languid thrust and sets his pace.

I moan against him, finally getting the reprieve I need. His hands grip the sheets by my head while he watches my face contort in pleasure. I pull lightly at the ends of his hair, my toes curling as I gasp. I start to lose myself in the feeling of him, allowing the warmth of his body to float me away to some other place.

His body melts into mine. I’m no longer aware of where he ends and I begin. He doesn’t retreat fully, not wanting to leave my body long enough to do so. He thrusts slow and deep, each one knocking the breath out of me. We share the air between us, our breaths mingling in soft pants as he cages me in. The world fades away until all I feel is him. All I see is him. All I know is him.

Sex with Joel has always been great, but this is on another level. The word sex can’t even encapsulate what is happening right now between us. This time it’s not about finding release, or the pleasure that builds in my stomach. This time it’s about the way I can feel the sweat on his skin and each pulse of his member inside me. It doesn’t take long for him to bring me back to the precipice of my orgasm.

I feel tears well in my eyes as I clench around him. It’s everything I needed and too much at the same time. I thought this would provide me a distraction from my grief. Instead Joel holds me like he’s trying to prove how much he truly sees me, trying to prove he’s here to help me hold the burden.

I’ve never felt this vulnerable. It scares me that he doesn’t look away. If anything he seems to hold me closer. The hand that rests by my head moves closer to my face, his thumb brushing the tear on my cheek away. He moves his thumb out of the way to press a kiss to my tear stained cheek.

“I’m gonna-“ he says hoarsely, his lips ghosting my cheek.

“Me too,” I reply. It feels like my entire being is about to explode, and despite how overwhelming the experience already is I need to know what it feels like to be one with him. I desperately want to feel every last moment of this. I don’t want it to end. “Do it inside, please.”

He looks at me with wide eyes, a silent question of ‘Are you sure?’ passing between us. He knows I’m on the pill, but we’ve always been extra careful. We have enough going on with Ellie and Sarah that we don't need to risk any other surprises. Right now, nothing else matters but having all of him.

I nod my head, giving him a final approval. We keep our eyes on each other as he groans and I feel his warmth begin to release inside me. I let go as well. His body wraps tighter around me as I pulse around him. He pushes deeper while ribbons of his seed spread inside me. We kiss passionately, our lips pressed hard against each other as both of us struggle to stay quiet with the pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Once the shockwaves begin to subside, and Joel’s twitching frame subsides into one of heavy pants, he drops his forehead to mine. He holds me close while he rolls us onto our sides, keeping one of my legs hooked around his waist so he doesn’t slip out. I fall asleep with him still inside me, his body intertwined with mine in every way.

To read more visit a03

[callsignseagull]

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter. 

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Not much, honestly. maybe just a little angsty 

A/N: Here’s part one!! I hope you like it! It's a little on the short side but hopefully there'll be more soon :))

feedback is always appreciated :)

series masterlist

You’re sitting at the dining table, scrolling through your emails with one hand while holding your toast in the other. You’ve become a pro at multitasking.

“Mommy? Do you think they have churros at that market Penny is taking me?” Your daughter is munching on a toast of her own, crumbs sticking to her cheeks. 

“I’m sure.” You smile. “And I’m sure if you ask nicely, Penny will get some for you.” 

She grins before taking another bite of her toast and you can’t help but reach over and give her a kiss. You can’t believe how fast she’s growing up. At now five years old, Josie is your entire world. As shocked and scared as you were when you found out about her, she’s the best thing that ever happened to you.   

Turning back to your laptop, you flag the most important mails so you don’t forget to follow up on them later. The time before one of your books releases is always the most stressful, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. You got so lucky. 

You wrote and illustrated your first children’s book while being pregnant with Josie, it gave you something to distract yourself from all the changes you were going through. And then you posted about it online, it went sort of viral and then a publisher reached out to you. The book was an immediate success. It’s been translated in several different languages and they even make stuffed toys and board games based on your characters now.

And now you’re about to release the fifth book in the series. It’s hard to churn one out every year, but you’re scared that if you drop the ball, all you’ve worked for will be ripped from you. You want to give Josie the best life possible, so you work your ass off. 

When both of you are finished with breakfast, you clean up the table and tell Josie to put her shoes on. As you slip into your own shoes, you whistle for Muffin, the four year old poodle mix you adopted from a rescue last year, and he comes trotting around the corner moments later. 

After checking you’ve got everything you lock the front for behind you, hold your free hand out for Josie to take, the other holding Muffin’s leash. Then, the three of you take on the short walk towards the Hard Deck. 

Penny Benjamin has been a life saver these last few years, throughout your pregnancy and beyond. She’s been there for you whenever you needed her, day or night. You don’t know what you would’ve done without her. And now she’s somewhat of a grandma figure for Josie, and she’s probably the hottest grandma ever. Her and Amelia are the closest thing you and Josie have to a family, besides each other.

Today, Penny is taking Josie to a Food Market while you look after the bar for a couple hours. It’s still early and not many people will be there, but you’re glad you can help Penny out while still getting some work done for yourself.

“There’s my favourite little family!” Penny greets, as you enter the Hard Deck, her arms wide and Josie immediately runs towards her and into her arms. 

“Hi Penny! I’m so excited! Are you excited? Do you think they’ll have churros?” Josie rambles with glistening eyes, her dimples on show and for a moment you’re reminded of how much she looks like her father. You manage to push thoughts of him to the back of your mind most days but sometimes you just look at her and all you can see is him. 

You haven’t tried reaching out to him again. You know you should’ve. But it felt wrong sending him a text telling him he’ll be a father. And you doubted that he even wanted to be a father. So you decided you’d spare yourself, and your daughter, the heartache. Josie hasn’t asked about her father much, but when she did you told her that he’s a pilot in the Navy and that he loves her. You never want her to feel like she’s not wanted.  

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Jake knew he’d come back eventually. He just didn’t know it would take him so long. But if he was being honest with himself he knew that if it wasn’t for him being called back to Top Gun for some top secret mission he still wouldn’t have had the guts to come back here. Hell, he’s been living only a few hours north from here for the past couple of years. He easily could’ve made the drive down. But he’d always been good at coming up with excuses. But now he couldn’t. Not when he’s in the same city for the next few months. He’d constantly be looking for you. Seeing you in every face that just slightly resembled yours. He didn’t even know if you still lived in San Diego, though. But going to the Hard Deck seemed like the logical thing to do. Even if you weren’t working there anymore, Penny Benjamin might know where to find you.

As soon as he enters the bar he’s hit with nostalgia. Nothing has changed. He takes a look around and pretends he’s the six years younger version of himself, still naive enough to think that nothing will ever rattle him.

Since it’s still the early afternoon it’s not busy and there seems to be no one behind the bar right now. With a deep sigh he sits down in one of the barstools, then notices someone crouched down behind the bar, looking for something in a cabinet. 

His breath catches in his throat. It can’t be.

He hasn’t seen you in six years, and even though he can’t see your face right now, he knows it’s you. He can feel it. 

Now he really feels like he’s been transported back six years in time. You haven’t noticed him yet and he can’t hold back the words that are going through his head.

“Can you pinch me? Because I can’t believe you’re real. I thought I was dreaming.” He knows it’s a bit of a dick move, throwing his first thing he ever said to you at you now. But maybe you’re not as mad at him as he thinks? What if you don’t even remember him? He hadn’t thought about that. Fuck. 

✩̿✪̿✩̿

You almost hit your head when you spin around towards him.  This can’t be real.

“What are you doing here?” You must look like you’ve seen a ghost, but it honestly feels like that. He looks the same but he doesn’t. He’s filled out more, even though you never thought it possible. And he just looks overall more mature. It suits him. 

“What am I doing here in San Diego or what am I doing here at the Hard Deck?” He tilts his head, a small smile on his face. You don’t grace that with an answer, he knows what you mean. The smile slowly drops from his face, and there’s a seriousness in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to look away. “I was hoping to find you here.”

“Why?”

“I want to apologise.” 

That makes you straighten up. Apologise? After six years? 

“I was an absolute asshole to you and you didn’t deserve that. I was going through a rough time and I took all that out on you. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I just left without saying goodbye. I got called on a mission right after graduation and when I got back I figured you didn’t wanna talk to me ever again.”

His words take your breath away for a moment. Never in a million years did you think you’d get an apology from Jake. 

“I-,” you stop, wringing your hands together. At a loss for words.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiles softly. “I’m in town for a while. Maybe we could … I don’t know … hang out sometime? Catch up?”

As much as you want to protect your heart and tell him no, you know you have to catch him up on what happened after he left. It’s not right to keep him in the dark now that he’s here. You know that.

“You don’t have to answer me now. Take some time to think about it. I’m sure you’re busy, with your books being such a success. And you’re still working at the bar?” He looks curious and you’re a little shocked.

“I’m just helping Penny out for a couple hours. You know about my books?”

“My nieces love them.” He grins. “I have to read them to them before bed every time I’ve got time to visit them down in Texas.”

“You’ve got nieces?” 

“Yeah, they’re two and four. Love them to death. My Mom’s been begging for grandkids for years and she’s so happy to dote on them every chance she gets.”

Your heart constricts. Two and four. They’re younger than Josie. Not only does she have cousins somewhere in Texas, she’s also the first grandchild to a woman who’s never met her. Who doesn’t even know about her. But you don’t know much about Jake’s parents. Maybe she wouldn’t be the biggest fan of a child out of wedlock. 

You glance at Jakes hand. No ring. 

You muster up the courage to your next question. You know the answer might hurt, but you have to ask him.

“Any kids of your own?” 

Jake shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not that I know of.” 

It’s just a joke but you feel like it makes your heart stop before it starts beating rapidly in your chest. This is it. There’s no better moment than now. Just get it over with.

“Jake, I-“ 

“Mommy!” Josie comes barreling through the door, Penny a few steps behind her. “Penny let me have Churros and they were delicious!” She wraps her arms around you and looks up at you with her sparkling green eyes.

Maybe you don’t even have to tell him. You glance at Jake and he looks a bit taken aback.

“Yeah, honey? Did you have fun?”

“So much fun!” She grins, showing off her deep dimples, and you run a hand over her head before giving her a kiss. You manage to look at Penny, who’s glaring at Jake. It takes all your courage to look at him. He doesn’t even seem to notice Penny, his eyes focused on the girl in your arms. You can’t read the expression on his face, has he already realised how much she looks like him? 

“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask you if you have any.” He smiles, his lips tight, then looks at your daughter and his smile turns more genuine. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Hearing the term of endearment again makes goosebumps raise on your skin. 

“Josie.” She’s not a shy kid, so you’re not surprised when she looks at him curiously and asks, “Who are you?” 

Your grip tightens around her but before you can say anything he replies, “I’m an old friend of your Mom.” 

You shoot him a really? look but he just shrugs his shoulders. Well, you guess it is inappropriate to tell your five-year-old daughter that he used to fuck your brains out. 

“Thanks for helping out.” Penny says, “Both of you.” She winks at Josie. 

Muffin comes trotting around the corner and Josie let’s go of you to throw her arms around the poodle mix. “I missed you!” While Muffin covers your daughter’s face in slobber, Jake huffs out a laugh. 

“A dog, too, huh?” 

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to say to that. 

“Does the house have a picket fence?” It’s a bit of a loaded question, you think, but you don’t read too much into it and reply truthfully, thinking about the little house you put a down payment on a couple years ago. 

“It does.” 

Jake rubs his chest and gives you that tight lipped smile again. “I’m happy for you.” 

He means it, you can tell. “Thanks, Jake.”

He gets up from his seat at the bar, knocks on the wood a couple times then says. “Your husband is one lucky guy.” Another tight lipped smile.

“My wha-?” 

“I’ll see you around.” He nods then turns on his heel and before you can comprehend what just happened he’s gone.

“Mommy, why did he say your husband? You don’t have one of those.” 

“I don’t know, honey.” 

You watch him cross the parking lot to his car and it dawns on you that he thinks that all your dreams came true:  become a full time illustrator, fall in love, get married, adopt a dog, buy a little house, have kids.

Little does he know that you fell in love with him, had his kid, and did all of the rest on your own. 

taglist: @annathesillyfriend ✪ @lovebittenbyevans ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ✪ @one-sweet-gubler ✪ @emorychase ✪ @wooya1224 ✪ @novagreen04 ✪ @iammirrorball ✪ @lolcaca ✪ @caitsymichelle13 ✪ @soulmates8 ✪ @soleilgrec ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy ✪ @winters-queen ✪ @i0veless ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae ✪ @mandyppp ✪ @dempy ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @lumpypoll ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274 ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58 ✪ @hangmanscoming ✪ @caidi-paris ✪ @linkpk88 ✪ @djs8891 ✪ @xomrsalliej4787xo ✪ @lnmp89 ✪ @startrekfangirl2233 ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @merishfit ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @sky0401 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill ✪ @roostersforevergirl ✪ @celestialeviereads ✪ @blackwidownat2814 ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp ✪ @atarmychick007 ✪ @dakotakazansky ✪ @fulla02 ✪ @alana4610 ✪ @callsignwidow ✪ @memoriesat30 ✪ @ebonyhogan24

[jexnkookie]

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 5]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion 

While you were sleeping, Jungkook did what he did best when he needed to clear his head; he boxed. After slipping on his gloves and getting into position, he let it all out on a punching bag. Again, his thoughts settled on you; how you felt in his arms, how you gazed at his lips like he gazed at yours, giving him a glimmer of hope that just maybe you wanted to kiss him, too. He needed to get you alone again, and away from the cameras. 

It was something he had thought about while working out. All the cameras on the property were filming every move the members made. Of course, that’s what everyone signed up for. No surprise there. But that means everything will be up to view soon, and Jungkook didn’t know what would be aired, and what wouldn’t. Would their short-lived game of truth or dare, where you gave Taehyung a quick kiss, be seen by fans? Or your movie day together? What about him carrying you to bed? He hoped not, knowing how some fans react to just a dating rumor. He didn’t want you to be on the receiving end of one of those storms. Whatever heat he got, he could take it, and would take it, if it meant protecting you. 

So he continued thinking; how can he get you away from the other members, and away from the cameras, to have privacy with you? How can he keep this a secret, while still properly confessing? A grin came to his face as he hatched an idea, but he’d need a little time to think through the details. That wouldn’t be now, however, as you walked into the door of the gym. 

“Hey.” You greeted him with a wave. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep. That was so embarrassing, and I feel awful.” 

“Don’t, it’s ok.” He said, his voice going soft once again, as became a habit around you. “You were tired.” 

“And um…thank you, for bringing me to my bedroom.” You blushed, walking closer to him as he had paused his workout. “That was really sweet of you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled.

Figuring out where to move the conversation to, because you didn’t want to stop talking to him, you glanced to his boxing gloves. 

“Y’know, I’ve never boxed before.” You smiled. “It looks fun, though.” 

“I can show you.” He grinned, always ready to play. Jungkook began removing his gloves, before raising his sparkling eyes to yours. “Here, put these on. They’ll probably be too big but it’ll work for now.” 

Standing very close to you, he helped you put them on, as you had never done so before. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, and like your heart had paused in your chest. How is it even possible for someone be that beautiful? He stood tall over you, and you wanted him to put his arms around you so badly. Little did you know, he wanted to, as well. He focused solely on your gloves, but being so close to you and feeling your eyes on him made him more nervous than he’d care to admit. He wanted to lean down just enough to kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. 

Not yet. Not in front of the cameras, and not on the property. 

He had an idea, and he wanted to stick to it. 

“Ok!” He smiled. “I’ll show you how to throw a punch, then you’ll hit me.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt you!” You laughed. 

“I really doubt you’re going to hurt me.” He teased, smirking at you. 

“We’ll see. I can be mean!” 

“I seriously doubt that.” Jungkook giggled. “Let’s get it, c’mon!” 

You threw punch after punch, while Jungkook blended teasing words with encouragement. He loved your competitiveness and playfulness, as it matched him so well. He thought to himself, as he was laughing with you, how easy it is just to be with you. Although you were a fan, that’s why you were selected, you treated him like a normal person. Someone to joke with, someone to just hang out with. He felt like he never had to try around you, and he appreciated that you didn’t seem to try hard to impress him, either. Everything just felt so natural. 

“Alright, Kookie, I’m taking you down this round.” You giggled through deep breaths, collecting yourself. 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “You’re confident?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed. “Watch.” 

With that, you went back in with a fierceness, making him smile and coo to himself, watching how you were trying so hard but still couldn’t even knock him back. Moving in closer to him, you both began laughing as it was clear that this was going nowhere for you. Jungkook “fought” back, moving forward towards you, making you back up despite your cute complaints. (“No fair, you’re bigger! I’m punching above my weight!”) Without paying too much attention, caught up in the fun you were having together, you were backed against the wall, trapped by Jungkook. 

“Fine! You win!” You laugh, throwing your head back to the wall. 

Jungkook was somehow even closer than he was before, with your body resting against the wall. While you both caught your breath, grinning over your silliness, Jungkook’s hand instinctively came up to brush strands of hair away from your face as your eyes were gazing into his. 

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, just enjoying being close. The moment felt fragile, as though if either person moved too quickly, it would shatter. 

“Hi.” He whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi.” 

“I…” Jungkook started without really understanding what it was he needed to say. “That was fun.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly, biting your lip nervously before adding, “I like hanging out with you.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “I like hanging out with you, too.”  

And just like that, it was present again; another fragile moment. Eyes glued to each other, butterflies in his stomach, and a racing heart in your chest. Words that you both weren’t quite sure how to say, or if you should say them, lingering in the air, making the room feel heavy. The  attraction was immediate, but now the spark is glowing, as well. It was something you both knew, but didn’t understand how to approach it. 

“I, uh, think we may need a shower.” Jungkook said softly. “Before Yoongi-hyung finishes dinner.” 

“You’re probably right.” You smiled, sighing internally that the moment couldn’t last. 

“You go first. I’ll clean up here, and meet you later, ok?” 

“Ok.” You replied. You looked over his features one more time before leaving for your guesthouse. 

Jungkook was grinning uncontrollably, feeling electric from the interaction. He knew he couldn’t mess this up with you, but he needed to tell you how he felt. There was something between you two that was almost magnetic, drawing him to you in ways that felt unreal. He understood he needed to act, but it needed to be private and personal, and just right. 

He quickly reached for his phone, and looked for the answer to one question; 

How long until a lake clears after a flood? 

A week passed, and it seemed to fly by. You had discussed your favorite records with Yoongi, painted a bit with Taehyung, beaten Jin at Mario Kart (much to his dismay), and gossiped over drinks with Jimin. The latter of which you increasingly became closer with, thanking multiple glasses of wine and late night conversations for that. 

“Are you single?” Jimin asked. It was 4 a.m., and the cameras were turned off for the night, allowing you to speak more freely. 

“I am.” You responded. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t. Spending a summer with 7 men alone… I don’t think a boyfriend would appreciate that, you know? What about you?” 

“That’s true… And, me too.” He said. “The last one, I don’t know… we just didn’t work out.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s ok. It’s in the past now.” Jimin smiled kindly. “Can I ask about you?” 

“My last boyfriend?” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “I broke up with him. We just never had any fun together, you know? It grew stale very quickly, like we were stuck in this routine, and he took himself too seriously to try anything new.” 

“He doesn’t sound like your type.”

“Yeah?” You grinned at his response, pouring more wine. “What do you think my type is?” 

“I think you like someone you can have fun with.” He stated, leaning back into the couch, a mischievous look gracing his features as if holding in a secret. “I think you’d like someone who can make you laugh and who will play with you, but he can also be sensitive and take care of you.” 

“You almost sound like you have someone in mind for me.” You giggled. 

“Not really.” Jimin smiled, looking down at his glass. “Just guessing.” 

At the end of the week, Jungkook had come to your bedroom door, knocking to wake you. It was late; late enough where the cameras were turned off and the other members were sleeping. You furrowed your brow wondering who would be coming to get you at this time, and why. 

“Jungkook?” You whispered. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/N, I have a surprise for you,” He whispers, his eyes somehow dazzling in the dark. “Should you choose to accept it.” 

“You make it sound like a video game side quest, Kookie.” You giggle. “I accept. What is it?” 

“Put on some shoes, and come with me.” He responded with a boyish grin. “I have something to show you.” 

You did as you were told, and Jungkook led you though the dark to the ATV on the property. Attached to it, somehow, was a bottle from Yoongi’s whiskey stash and a blanket. You were suddenly thankful for the cover of the night, because you could feel your cheeks blushing as you gathered what he could be up to. 

“Get on, and hold on tight to me, ok?” He explained. “I found something I think you’ll like.” 

After getting onto the back of the ATV, you got comfortable and hugged him tightly from the back. Jungkook smiled at the feeling of your arms, and he hoped it was the first of many times he’d feel you wrapped around him. He took off, checking to make sure the members and the staff weren’t paying attention, and took you down the road. The drive was short, and you wondered what Jungkook could’ve possibly found, as you were in the woods. 

But as he drove up to what seemed to be a perfect, private oasis, your eyes grew wide. Tucked in a cleared spot, there was a lake with the moonlight reflecting off the cool water. It was peaceful and serene, with only the occasional sound of crickets breaking the silence. 

“It’s the lake that the staff members mentioned may flood.” Jungkook explained as he helped you off the ATV. “I wanted to bring you here for a few days, but it needed to clear first.” 

“This is so pretty.” You said.  

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” He said, carrying the blanket and the wine. 

“I feel like a teenager.” You laughed as Jungkook spread the blanket on the ground. “Sneaking out of the house late with a boy, stealing alcohol from the kitchen.” 

“We’re rebels.” Jungkook laughed. You sat next to him, and he popped open the bottle of wine. “Meaning we drink from the bottle, too…and totally not because I forgot to grab glasses.” 

“I love this.” You giggled. “Thank you for bringing me out here. This is nice.” 

“Anytime.” He replied softly. “I’ve been thinking… this could be our place, y’know? If we need to get away from the cameras, from the set, we can just come here.” 

“That sounds amazing.” You said. Jungkook looked over at you, admiring your features and how they glowed in the moonlight. “Oh, look! We can see stars so clearly here.” You laid down on the blanket, and Jungkook followed. 

“I can see… the moon.” Jungkook joked, making you laugh. “I don’t know much about stars.” 

“Tell me your zodiac, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smiled. 

You began pointing out to Jungkook where his corner of the sky was, and where yours was alongside it. While you spoke about stars, Jungkook had some of his own in his eyes, hanging on every word you said. The atmosphere of the lake, the red wine buzz you both felt, and your sweet voice right next to him made him so, unbelievably happy. You spoke about his corner of the sky, but he felt like this little place he found was meant for both of you. Your little corner of the world. 

“Hey.” He whispered, cutting you off softly. 

“Hey.” You whispered back. 

“I…” A brief pause, but unlike that day in the gym, he knew what he needed to say. “I just want to tell you, that I meant what I said. The day I met you, I said you were so pretty. It’s true… I think you’re beautiful.” 

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered, blushing profusely at his gaze and attention.  

“Can…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“The day we were watching a movie, and the day we were boxing… I felt something.” Jungkook explained nervously. “I felt a.. I don’t know, a spark or something, if that makes sense. Did you… Do you…” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly. “Yeah, I feel it, too.” 

Once again, a fragile moment appearing. The warm, summer air feels heavy once again, and a rush of vulnerability passes through. The quiet part weighs on you both now that it’s been said out loud; he feels something for you, and you feel it to. Not love, not yet. Not enough to dive in head first. But enough to be a promise of something, or the hope of an exciting possibility. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asked, gazing down at your lips. You nodded your consent, and he slowly brought his hands to your waist, pulling you in closer to cuddle with him on the blanket. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, just as he had done back at the main house, but the action felt different this time. More real, knowing its intention. 

He smiled, as did you, at the tension of the moment. 

Then, he leans in, eyes closed. You closed yours as well, anticipating the touch. He lingers nearby, nerves taking over, but Jungkook wouldn’t miss his chance. His lips grazed yours, before connecting fully. Your hands came up to touch his chest softly, encouraging him to go just a bit further. So he did, deepening the kiss and savoring how your lips locked with his for the first time. 

After spending some time together, feeling high off of whatever this connection was, you both knew you needed to get back before the members and staff realized you were missing. Jungkook packed up and drove you back, but noticing the time and knowing the cameras hadn’t turned back on quite yet, he took your hand in his to walk you back to your bedroom. 

“Please get some rest, ok?” He whispered, leaning in close again, not able to get enough. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.” 

“It’s ok.” You smiled, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Y/N, listen.” He whispered, his tone more serious as he placed his hands on your hips. “I don’t want either of us to feel pressured by anyone about this… about us. I don’t want anyone jumping to their own conclusions about us before we even know for sure what we are. I just want us to spend time together, y’know? So when the cameras are on, and the members are around, let’s keep it between us.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice a bit sad. 

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon.” Jungkook cooed, pulling you in close to hold you. “Trust me, I want everyone to know about this, but just not yet. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I promise. Please, just trust me.” 

He looked down at you, giving you a soft, slow kiss and feeling relieved when he felt your smile. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered, before turning towards the door. 

“Goodnight.” He replied. Jungkook struggled to let you go, wanting to hold you in his arms longer, now that he actually has you. 

You reached for his sweatshirt that night, wearing it to bed like you had done so many nights before. But somehow, it felt softer than ever. 

Next Chapter Coming Soon...Thank you! x

[bluriki]

ꪆৎ coffee break ﹫ lhs

; pair bf!heeseung x fem!reader ; sum coffee breaks are the only way heeseung can spend time with you at work ; genre fluff , office!au , established relatioinship

“coffee break?” a figure sat on your desk, leaning forward to meet your face. heat crept on your cheeks as the figure leaned closer pressing his lips to your cheek. your eyes widened slightly. “don’t do that, heeseung!” you whisper yelled. 

you were in a secret relationship with heeseung, although he didn’t really keep it a secret. instead, he winked at you, he always got way too close to be called friendly, and he was always seen with you. what can you say, he’s whipped.

“why not? i can kiss my girlfriend if i want to.” a pout formed on his lips. “plus, no ones here, they’re taking a lunch right now.” you looked around to make sure no one could’ve seen the small kiss heeseung gave you. “you’re lucky.”

heeseung chuckled. “you never answered my question.” you tilted your head, a smile appearing on your face as you met his eyes. “i have time. plus im a little hungry.” you placed your hand over your stomach. 

“great! let’s head to the lobby!” confusion filled your face. “the lobby? i thought you meant the break room!” you whined, knowing you didn’t have that much time. “you said you were hungry which means i’m gonna buy you something to eat, now lets go.”

you huffed, sliding your chair back. “before we go i need to file some papers.” heeseung nodded, standing up. “as long as you eat lunch with me.” you chuckled, grabbing the papers from your desk. “you’re whipped.” you said, with a soft smile. 

“how did you know?” heeseung placed a finger on his chin, looking up to the sky. “it’s not that obvious is it?” you bursted out laughing. “not at all.” heeseung hummed and followed you to file the papers.

once you were done filing your papers you went to the lobby with heeseung. some people were in line to order some coffee. you stood behind the last person and turned to heeseung. 

“why’d you want to have coffee in the lobby?” you crossed your arms and blinked waiting for heeseung to answer. “so i can get miss workaholic away from her computer.” you furrowed your brows shooting a glare to heeseung. 

you heard him chuckle next to you. you knew he wanted to hug you and for once you wanted him to give you a hug at your workplace. the only reason you have a secret relationship is because you’re very close with your coworkers and you know they’ll tease you nonstop.

a comfortable silence fell between you and heeseung. you watched many workers pass around like little ants working hard and trying their best. you smiled knowing they were doing their best for this company. 

“what do you want to eat?” heeseung spoke, breaking the silence. you looked at the menu. “grilled chicken with vegetables.” you noticed heeseung scrunching his face a bit. “why are you making that face?” heeseung shook his head. “its nothing.” 

“tell me!” you whined, gently punching his shoulder. “the vegetables.” you scoffed in disbelief. “you’re just like a little kid.” heeseung leaned closer to your face. “maybe i am one.” he smiled brightly, tilting his head slightly. 

you pushed him back softly. “whatever. we’re up next, you know what to order right?” heeseung nodded. you patted his shoulder, walking to a table to sit at. you watched heeseung order with a smile on your face. that same smile dropped when you noticed the girl flirting with heeseung.

you glared at her even though she would never notice. heeseung walked to your table after he finished ordering. “why do you look upset?” he asked while pulling out a chair to sit with you. “i don’t know, why don't you ask yourself?” heeseung widened his eyes. 

“that girl! she was flirting with you.” you pouted, looking down and playing with your fingers. heeseung grinned, grabbing your hands. “jealous much?” you pulled your hands from his. a glare and pout playing on your face. 

heeseung chuckled. he watched you with loving eyes. suddenly, your order was called, leaving you alone again. you noticed the girl slip heeseung a piece of paper. you sent another glare at her and waited for heeseung to sit back down.

“give me that paper.” heeseung gave it to you and watched you rip it. he tried to hold his laugh back, you were cute when you were jealous.

—

“coffee break?” heeseung asked you for the second time that day. you looked up at his figure. “as long as it’s not in the lobby.” heeseung nodded, knowing that would be your answer. “don’t worry, it’s in the break room.” you smiled and stood up. “i need a coffee break anyway.”

heeseung chuckled, following you to the break room. no one was in there meaning you were alone with heeseung. you should’ve know he would’ve tried to pull something. 

as soon as he closed the door he was against you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “what if someone walks in?” you questioned, pouring cream into your coffee. “i’m sure everyone know we’re together at this point, it’s so obvious.” you glanced at heeseung. “i wonder why.”

heeseung smiled innocently. “it’s because you’re whipped for me obviously.” you shook your head, fighting the smile threatening to come out. “i think it’s the other way around.” heeseung wrapped his arms around you, turning you to face him.

“okay, maybe it is but you’re really obvious too.” you cocked your head to the side. “less than you though.” heeseung groaned, placing his head on your shoulder. “i cant help the fact im in love with you.” your heart started pounding in your chest. you didn’t know what to say so you opted to say nothing. instead, you enjoyed him being in your arms.

you stayed like that for a little while until heeseung picked his head up. he gave you a silly smile before pressing his lips on yours for a soft peck. you giggled against his lips, pressing your lips to his again. 

“i love you too.” you whispered, a smile complimenting your features. heeseung leaned against you, holding you like you were the most valuable thing to exist. 

suddenly the door opened causing you and heeseung to separate. your coworker, jake, jumped up and down pointing at the two of you. 

“I KNEW IT!!”

🎬 노트 && . first fic of the year!! im sorry it's taken forever for me to post a fic :( i had the worst writers block... on that note i have a longer fic coming up as soon as i can finish the ending!!

🧷 perm tl && . send ask or comment to be added

[zyonsay]

Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥

I dare you LN4&OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...

Reader: Male

Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so

Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick

AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!

Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.

The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.

“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”

Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.

Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?

“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”

Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.

Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.

Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

love, love, love your work.

could you maybe write a piece where it's harry that's a bit insecure because the reader wants to keep their relationship very private and not tell people about it?

and i love love love you!! thank you for reading my work and sending this request! ❤️

Insecure

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kissing, fluff, a bit of dirty talk

my masterlist! | ask box

"Just 10 more minutes, please, H?" you pouted, snaking your arms tightly around his chest, to try and keep him in bed. Unfortunately, he had an interview to go to.

"Y/n, baby, you know I have to leave soon. And I haven't even taken a bath."

"So leave without taking a bath. You smell so good anyways" you slid up and kissed his pecs, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"That's it. I'm getting out." he gently picked up your arms and kept it on the bedding beneath, and quickly jumped off the bed.

"Nooo" you whined, and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Okay. If I hadn't gotten out, you would've found another way to make me stay." He bent over and picked up his clothes, strewn across the floor from the night before.

"Nice ass" you remarked, making one last attempt at making him stay.

"Not gonna work" he replied, and finally picking up his clothes. He made his way to the bathroom, and closed the door.

You sighed, and slumped back on the bed, pulling the blanket to cover your body, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to come back.

He came back about half an hour later, and you'd already fallen back to sleep. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he slowly made his way over to your sleeping form, and climbed on the bed. He leaned over, and shook his wet hair over your face.

The tiny water droplets showered on your face, and you immediately pushed him away, and he fell on the bed. He started to laugh hysterically, holding his stomach.

"Not funny" you said, wiping off the water. Giving him an angry look, you turned to the other side.

"Hey, I was just playing."

"Sure you were"

"So listen, how about we go to dinner after I come back? You be ready and I'll pick you up?"

"Oh…"

"Think about it, text me before 4. We'll go to that fancy italian place y’like.”

“But-there'll be paparazzi, right?”

“Yeah. Obviously” he chuckled “So?”

“I don’t know, Harry, it’s just–I don’t want people to know yet, like, officially.”

He frowned, his heart sinking a bit.”But there's already pictures of us outside the gym from last week-and that actually means something, right? And, we both wear promise rings. One close up and they’ll figure it out” he said, pulling up his pants he had laid out the night before.

“Yeah, but that’s kinda–different? I don't know. Going to gym together dosen’t really do what going to dinner together does. Please, Harry?”

“Mmm, okay.” he buttoned up his shirt, and pulled on a loose cardigan, and went into the closet to choose footwear.

“So, that would mean I have to say I’m single when they ask me that today?”

You thought, and felt a bit sad. You wanted to go to the tallest building in the world and yell, “I’m dating Harry Styles, bitches!”. But, you couldn’t. At least, not yet.

“Yes?” you murmured, hoping Harry would hear. You also hoped he wouldn’t be sad, or feel bad.

“Yeah, alright.” He walked out wearing white vans, that complemented his blue jeans.

“How do I look?”

“Great” you replied.

“Quick, give me a hug and a kiss before I leave” he walked to the corner of the bed, while you peeled yourself off, and walked on your knees to the edge, the blanket still draped over your body.

He leaned down and kissed you, and you snaked his arms around his neck. He pulled away quickly, and put your back down. He smiled, turning back and waving at you as he left.

As soon as he got out of the room, his sile turned into a frown. He sighed, as the guilt and sadness took over him. Why did you not want anyone to know? Like, both of your friends knew, and people would find out eventually, but still.

Why?

He respected your decision, and would never go against it. He wouldn’t tell people till you were ready. But, what if you won’t be ready? Ever?

Taking his shades and keys, he left the house.

. . .

The interview went great, as he had expected. Better, actually. Whenever he was asked a question about a significant other, he brushed it off charmingly, and thankfully, they didn’t ask any more nosy or follow up questions. He loved interviewers like that.

On his drive back to his shared home with his “girlfriend”, his mind was clouded with thoughts. Why did you not want anyone to know? Were you ashamed? Did you not want your family to know, so they wouldn’t judge you? Maybe your parents didn’t approve you dating a famous person? Maybe you didn’t want to be seen with him like that? Was he that bad?

These things, and some much worse clouded his mind, against his better judgement. Harry wasn’t perfect per-se, but he tried. He knew he could be a bit too much at times, but he worked on that.

Turning over to the last turn towards your house, he took deep breaths, and wiped a few tears off his cheek with the back of his cardigan. He stayed in the car for a few minutes, to let the rednes in his eyes and sadness on his face fade away.

Walking up the path to the main door, he didn’t want to go inside. If you didn’t want to be seen with him, why were you even with him in the first place?

He rung the doorbell, and felt the patter of feet of you making your way to the dor. The door clicked open, and then there you were, with a the soft, glowy face and a lovely smile, holding a spatula. he took a step in, and leaned in to kiss you. You held his neck with the other hand and kissed him back. He snuck an arm around your waist, as the other one closed the door shut behind him.

The kiss wan’t just a quick peck, and you wanted more. Your hand travelled up from his neck to his hair, gently tugging at it. Harry released a filthy moan into your hot mouth, and that was it for both of you. You dropped the spatula on the floor and held onto his shoulders, as he gripped your hips and lifted your up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he made his way to your bedroom.

“You smell so fucking good” you said, peppering kisses over his cheek. Travelling down to his neck, where you bit his earlobe and kissed his neck. Harry was getting impatient, and he quickly jogged the last few steps, finally reaching your bedroom.

He went straight to your shared bed, throwing you into the centre. You fell with a soft thud, your hair bouncing and framing your little face perfectly. He climbed on the bed too, hovering over your body. Your lips intertwined again, but this time, it was hot tongues and moans into each other's mouths.

Harry wrapped his hand around your throat, and pushed you down. His tongue made its way into your mouth, tasting you. You moaned, as his tongue glided with yours. You had been impatient since the morning, and he was finally giving you what you wanted,

His hand travelled down, pulling the loose string of your sweats. You lifted your hips up, and he slid them off your legs, throwing them away. He was still so much fully dressed, and you wanted to get him naked. Touch his chest and pepper kisses all over it.

You pushed him off to the side, and quickly climbed on him, perching your hips on his waist. You could see his jeans thickening, and you pulled off the cardigan, throwing it on the bed.

Harry wanted to do this. To have sex with you. Eat you out. But, his mind wasn’t letting him. He still kept thinking everything he was while driving, and if he didn’t talk to you about it soon, he would go mad.

He grabbed your wrists when you tried to unbutton his shirt. He sat up, holding your waist so you wouldn’t topple over. Your eyes widened at the sudden halt, and you gave him a confused look.

“H-what–?”

“Can we talk?”

“Right now?” you saw the look on his face. He looked desperate, and…sad. “Okay. What happened? Tell me.” you held his hand in yours, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It’s just–I keep thinking about why you-you don’t want to tell everyone we are dating. It’s driving me mad. Is it me? Am I not worth telling everybody? Is there something wrong with me?”

Your heart broke into a million pieces when he said that. He looked so sad and broken, because of you.

“What? No! Jesus! Harry, why would you even think tha?”

“I’m sorry. This-nobody has ever asked me to keep our relationship a secret and I–I can’t just stomach it. I need to know why?”

“Hey, don’t apologise. Alright? It’s not your fault. “

“Then why?”

“Ok. Here it goes. The reason why I don’t want to tell everyone yet is because-It’s probably stupid.” you slumped, now feeling embarrassed at your reason for all this.

“No, it’s not. Tell me.”

“It’s me. I just think that I can’t compare to anyone–literally anyone you’ve dated before, and it makes me really sad. And when everyone–your fans, your family–they find out, they will think low of me, and that you are probably doing me a favour by dating me. And I know it’s hella stupid, but I am not ready for all the judgement and comments and paps and–”

“Hey! It’s okay. Don’t panic. And I get you, okay. Dating someone like me can be a bit…overwhelming? at times. I am so used to everything that I just don’t realise that you could feel burdened by everthing. And I know how my fans can get sometimes. I love them, more than anything in the world. It’s just–they get defensive and often judge-y of the person I date.”

“I know! And I’m sorry if I made you feel bad about yourself.”

“No, it’s okay. I just wished you could’ve talked to me about it sooner. And hey, don’t ever feel like you’re not enough. There’s a reason why I’m not dating anyone else but you. I love you and I want to be with you. And don’t worry about my family. They are great people. They don’t judge the people I date. They are really, really good people.” he lifted your hands with his, kissing your hand and knuckles, like you had kissed his.

Your eyes were wide, and your mouth fell open. It was the first time he had said I love you.

“What–happened?” he asked, a bit concerned.

“You–you love me?” you replied, eyes welling up with tears.

Now, his face mirrored yours.

“I–I don’t-I didn’t–You don’t have to say it back.”

“Of course I do. I love you too, H.” a tear rolled down your eyes, and you quickly got up and kissed him.

He kissed you back, wiping the tear off your cheek.

“I love you so much. So, so much.” you told him, kissing both his cheeks.

“I love you too, baby. And we don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to. We will, whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you. You are the best. I don’t deserve you” you turned, sitting down on his lap.

“Sure you do. Now, what are we eating tonight? I’m hungry.”

“I made pasta. The spatula—I threw it on the door” you laughed, and he started to laugh with you.

“God.” he shook his head, and you looked up at him.

“C’mon, get up. I need to freshen up.”

“But this–” you looked down between your thighs, where your panties had soaked through from your activities earlier.

“What? Oh! My baby got wet, didn’t she?” you nodded, looking at him with doe eyes, hoping he’ll do something.

“Well, you’ll have to wait till after dinner. Then, I’ll carry you back here like I did before. Lay you down sweetly on the bed. Then spread those pretty thighs of yours, and eat your pretty pussy out. Till you’re begging me to stop. The, I’ll fuck you, and make you look into my eyes, while I tell you how perfect you are. And I that I love you, every time you come around my cock.”

You pressed your thighs together, while he described everything he was going to do to you.

“You’re not helping”

“Wasn’t planning on, love”

. . .

might do a part 2!! 😚

if you like it, please like and reblog!! any feedback is much, much appreciated!!

taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrlrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry

let me know if you wanna be added or removed!!!

[inbloomwriting]

If I had you II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. Reader thinks it's the easiest thing in the world. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Notes: This is inspired by the song "a daydream away". It's 5.2k words of pure friends-to-lovers sweetness.  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. It’s a chore to love him, the real him not the overly confident golden boy he portrays on the pitch. Just look at his track record, that just proves his point. Sure his mom loves him, he never questioned that, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. He’s convinced he’s made her cry more than once with yet another stupid decision. Then there’s his father who loves nothing more than to belittle him and lay out all his flaws for him and the world to see. And if even your own dad doesn’t love you, how can you expect others to. 

So maybe that’s the reason he doesn’t let anyone close enough to even begin to love him. Sooner or later they’ll figure out how much of an effort it takes and that he, of all people, truly isn’t worth it. 

And maybe, perhaps, that’s also the reason he doesn’t allow himself to explore the feelings he harbors for his best friend. He tried to deny them to himself for so long. Tried to pass it off as pure, unfiltered friendship. That’s bullshit though. He knows the feelings are there and there is no use in denying them. That doesn’t mean he can ever allow himself to act on them though. He’d just fuck it all up, the way he usually does with everything he touches. 

The shiny hardwood floor feels cold and smooth as he sits leaning against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out before him. A smile is permanently etched onto his face as (Y/N) talks about something that happened at her work today. He should listen, it’s probably a fun story judging by the way her giggles make her stop talking every few seconds. He should listen but he is so enamored with her that he can not pay attention to anything else. In a perfect world, in a world where loving him was easy, he’d lean over and kiss her. He'd kiss her silly and she’d kiss him back and life would be sweet and it would make sense. In that perfect world, she would love him back the same way he loves her and it would be easy and he’d deserve her. 

But that is not the world he’s living in. That is not his reality. Just a beautiful daydream he allows himself to escape to every once in a while. Loving her in a daydream is safe. It’s secret and quiet and there is no hurt there and no rejection. 

“Why are you grinning like that, huh Tartt?” 

She asks before taking a sip from the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands. It’s an unusually hot summer’s day. One that makes it impossible to do anything but sit on the floor in as little clothing as possible and drink one cold drink after the other. Even if that means getting a little tipsy on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Nothing. Just happy to have you here. Missed you.”

“We didn’t see each other for a week and you already missed me?”

He misses her the minute she leaves. It’s like his heart isn’t complete if she isn’t there but he can’t really say that can he? Friends don’t tell friends things like that. And a friend is all she is. His best one but still. Telling her any of this could jeopardize their friendship and Jamie doesn’t think he could handle life without her. Not when a week already felt like torture. 

“Well yeah, I’m proper shit at cooking. I need you to feed me.” 

“Oh, is that so? Thought Mr. Bigshot footballer could get free food at any restaurant he fancies.”

She’s teasing but never mean and never hurtful. That’s something he cherishes so much about their friendship. His feelings, his fears — all of it is safe with her. There is no hurt or pain or fear. Just her and her friendship and warmth. And a pair of open arms ready to catch him whenever he stumbles and falls.

“True. But some fancy place in Mayfair will laugh at me if I ask them to make me dino nuggets, won’t they?”

Her laughter, he decides then, is his favorite sound in the world. It makes everything feel alright even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. He needs to keep his feelings locked up in that beautiful daydream because he can never lose this melody her laughter creates. And anyway, he wouldn’t even know what to do if he ever really had her.

— It’s not like she’d say yes anyway.

“You’re probably right about that,” she says and leans her head against his shoulder. And though it’s muggy and hot and he’s sure he can feel their skin stick together, he doesn’t shake her off. She’s part of his heart already, might as well melt into one completely. “You want me to make you some nuggets?” 

“Nah,” Jamie replies and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. Friends kiss friends on the head all the time, everyone knows that. Right? "That's okay. Already had a Kebab with Roy earlier.” 

“You guys are becoming friends then? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose my best friend status?” 

Jamie lets out some mix between a chuckle and a scoff. As if anyone in all the world could ever replace her. What a ridiculous thought. 

“Well he doesn’t make me nuggets, does he? No alphabet soup either. So no. Not yet.” 

The little shake of her fist she does in victory makes him grin even bigger. He must look like a damn fool. 

“I should probably get going sometime soon, I need to finish up some work and do laundry and do all that boring adult stuff that’s waiting for me at home.” 

There are lots of things he should be doing instead of sitting on his kitchen floor on a Tuesday afternoon getting half drunk on cheap beer and half on his overwhelming love for her. He’s sure there are a bunch of texts and emails waiting for him to sort through. Keeley might be popping a blood vessel soon if he doesn’t answer her about that brand requesting to work with him on some ad campaign. And he will get back to her — soon. 

Right now it doesn’t matter. Right now all that matters is him and (Y/N) and their little corner of safety and — home.

“But I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah, me neither. Just want to sit here with you and — “ 

“ — hang out?” 

“Mh. Hang out.” 

That was not what he wanted to say but none of the words ghosting through his head are meant to be spoken out loud. They are his to feel and think and keep hidden and quiet. 

“Good, we can hang out a little longer I think.” 

And he’ll take what he can get. All the precious minutes she grants him he cherishes. 

Right now could last forever and he wouldn’t mind at all.

Not as long as he’s with her.

Some early 00s pop song is blasting from the speakers of the bar. Everyone’s in good spirits and drinks are flowing freely. 

(Y/N) is leaning against the bar talking to Colin, laughing about something he said, radiating joy and happiness. 

She loves his friends, his boys, his family. Jamie loves that she loves them so dearly, so fiercely as if they are her own family. At this point, they might as well be. She remembers all their birthdays, drops by unannounced with cookies for everybody, cheers them on louder than anybody else. Hell, she even gets Roy to smile and that’s quite something. She’s as much a part of the AFC Richmond family as she is a part of his life. 

“Jamie-Jam-Jam what are you sulking over here for,” her voice cuts through the crowd and the music as she slides into the booth next to him. She looks gorgeous in the hazy neon lights. Then again, she always looks gorgeous. 

“Not sulking. Just — thinking.” 

“About what?”

You. He’d say if he was honest and not such a coward. You and how much I adore you and how hard it is not to tell you any of this and fuck up our friendship. 

“Was considering getting me nipples pierced. I’d have to take them out though and I imagine that would be quite annoying.” 

“Probably,” she agrees and nods her head before adding “It would look sick though.” 

“Right? I reckon it would.” 

She laughs at that and once again it shakes his entire world. Like little earthquakes inside his heart. 

Her voice is quieter after her laughter subsides, soft and gentle, and with the loud music it feels like her words are only meant for him. “I like this,” she says almost wistfully.

“The song? Who’s that, Rihanna?” 

“Not the song, silly boy. This — “ she gestures around the room towards all their friends, dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives. And then she motions to the two of them, secluded and safe inside their own little bubble. “escaping our busy lives for a moment.” 

“Lot of journalists would disagree with you there, love. That my life was busy.” 

“They don’t know you like I know you.” 

There’s a sincerity in her eyes, a warmth, something he can’t quite explain. It’s familiar and foreign all at once. 

“No one knows me like you do. You had pity on Jamie Tartt, messy little prick from math class. They just know Jamie Tartt, the footballer from Richmond.Still a prick but now with better hair.” 

Before he knows what’s happening, her hands take hold of his face and gently rest against his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Really look at her.

“I never had pity on you, Jamie. I thought you were funny and exciting and infinitely cool. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. And I was right! About the funny part, not the cool part.” 

“Obviously.” 

“But I never took pity on you. I don’t think you realize how highly I think of you. Now let me get a sip of that drink.” 

He’s still in some sort of haze brought on by her words when a groan coming from her shakes him from his thoughts. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust as she places his glass back on the table. “Ew, what the fuck is that?” 

“I’m not sure, honestly. Barkeeper said she’d mix me a Jamie Tartt and I was like fuck yeah, a drink named after me.”

“It’s disgusting. Did you shag and dump her at some point? Like, is she mad at you for some reason?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman before in my life … so yeah maybe.” 

Shaking her head with a smirk on her face she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him out of the booth and towards the bar on the other side of the place, the one with the older male bartender with the impressive beard.

“You ever had a thing with him?” she asks as she leans against the counter, trying to get the man’s attention.

“Nah, I’d remember that facial hair.” 

From then on the night tastes like tequila and beer and it feels like a warm hug. She doesn’t join in on all his drinks, stops herself after a beer and a shot, but she does join him in all the other shenanigans. Like when they make up ridiculous backstories for strangers and have a laugh about some corporate douchebag trying desperately to get with some woman who clearly has no interest in him. 

“Henry from accounting.”

“Nah, that’s Charlie from HR.” 

“Well, either way, Maisie from South Shields is not interested.” 

He could stay here forever, laugh the night away. Drunk on happiness, on love — and also on quite a lot of booze. 

“Come on, Jamie-Jam, “ she says and hands him his jacket. She’s all gentle hands and gentle eyes. “Let me give you a ride home.” 

“We’re going home?”

“I think it’s time. Think someone had a little too much.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He is but also not. He’s sorry for being a burden — again. He’s not sorry for letting himself enjoy a night of unadulterated happiness with the people that mean the most to him.

“No need to apologize, Jamie. I’m glad you had fun. Now come on, silly boy. I’m tired.”

And when they step out of the place and into the night, all sweaty and hair a mess, he thinks that of all the things his eyes have ever seen, the best by far is her. Then and always. 

London passes by in a blur as (Y/N) drives them towards his house. All the bougie buildings and the iron fences and the trees in the parks, it’s all one kaleidoscope of color, a smudge of light and shadows. 

It’s not like he can really focus on that though. Partly because all he can think of is her and partly because he’s absolutely wasted. Mostly her though. Definitely mostly her.

“Did you have a good time?” his voice slices through the comfortable silence.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you, silly boy. Did you?” 

He rests his cheek against the smooth leather of her car seats and regards her with an infinite sense of wonder and adoration. In any other situation, this position would be deeply uncomfortable but he’s numb to anything but the beating of his heart and the strings that pull him towards his best friend.

“Obviously. Had my best girl with me. “

“Keeley?”

His eyebrows raise in confusion. “Keeley? No you numpty, you!” 

“Me?”

“Why would you think I was talking about Keeley?”

He wishes he could see the look on her face. This is not a car conversation. 

“Uh, she’s the only real adult relationship you ever had and you had a poster of her on your wall. Makes one think things. In fact, I believe that poster is still up.”

Jamie can’t help but scoff at her words. Not in a dismissive way necessarily but this whole conversation seems so silly to him. Yeah, he loved Keeley in a way and yeah she’s still one of his best friends but never has she come close to (Y/N). Keeley hardly ever got to see the real Jamie, the one that didn’t hide behind this larger-than-life footballer persona. (Y/N) met him before that persona even existed.

“Stop thinking things then. You’re my best girl, always.”

He still can’t see her face since she is looking at the road in front of them, but he can see the smile pulling the corner of her lips upwards, and for the moment that’s good enough for him.

Her car comes to a stop in front of Jamie's house but while he drags himself out of his seat, she stays put. 

“What are you doing, love?” 

“Dropping you off?” 

“Are you not coming inside then?” 

“Do you want me to come inside? We spent pretty much all week with each other, I thought you might be sick of me by now.” 

A ridiculous thought if he’s ever heard one. He could never get sick of her. They could be glued to each other for the rest of eternity and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

Even in his drunk state of mind though, he realizes that’s not something he can tell her. That crosses out of friend territory. So he just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Do I want you to come in? What a dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I have a bag of those disgusting spicy crisps waiting for you in my kitchen.”

“In that case —” 

10 minutes later they’re sitting on his couch, her legs across his lap, munching away at those god-awful crisps as some overly dramatic American home renovation show flickers across the TV screen. 

In moments like these, love lives here. In these walls and on this couch. And it’s terrifying because thinking about love also makes him think of the possibility of losing it. But every once in a while, Jamie lets himself feel a tiny bit of it. Just enough to keep him going. 

“Hey Jamie,” she speaks up, her face only illuminated by the light coming from the TV. She’s wearing his shirt and he wills himself not to focus too hard on that because that will cause images to ghosts through his mind that he can’t allow himself to ever think about. Images that cross every line ever drawn when it comes to friendships.

“Yes, love?” 

“You’re my best boy too. Not sure I ever told you.” 

He doesn’t answer, not in words at least. But he squeezes her legs as they rest on him, and he hopes she knows. Oh god if only she knew. 

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. (Y/N) knows he thinks so because he let it slip once or twice when he was drunk and his words were all jumbled and his mind was all hazy. 

And every damn time it breaks her fucking heart. Because loving Jamie Tartt is the easiest thing she ever did. It comes as natural as breathing. It feels like a nice ray of summer sun on her skin, sizzling and exciting and warm.

Loving Jamie is a gift.

Now if only there was a way she could make him realize that. But every time he lets himself be even a little vulnerable he is so quick to cover the cracks with stupid jokes or misplaced arrogance before a real conversation can happen. 

She needs him to realize it though. To understand that loving him isn’t difficult. Because how can you tell someone you love them and make them understand just how much they mean to you when they deem themself unlovable? 

Turning her head to the side she looks at his sleeping face. Somewhere between Fixer Upper and House Hunters, he fell asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He’s snoring something awful but she still thinks he’s adorable. Jamie has a mischievous, lovable quality to him that just makes you open your heart to him whether you want to or not. Yeah, sure, he’s let people down, he’s done shitty things, but he’s trying. He’s learned and he’s changed and the price for being young and stupid and cocky should not be a life spent questioning if you deserve other people’s love. 

Jamie Tartt is not hard to love. But loving him and not being able to tell him because he doesn’t love you in quite the same way, that’s just fucking cruel.

The air is loaded with static. Everyone is on the edge of their seat. (Y/N) is huddled in between Rebecca and Keeley, holding their hands and nervously biting at her lip. Emotions are running high as Richmond is playing Manchester. Correction — they’re not only playing them, they are kicking their asses.

It’s 2-0 for Richmond and they’re already 1 minute into the 3 minutes of additional time. If Manchester doesn’t get a miracle, Richmond wins. The thought of that makes a fluttery feeling spread in (Y/N)’s stomach. If this is how she feels, she can only imagine what Jamie must feel like. 

1:30

2 minutes

2:30

3 minutes.

“Blow the whistle. Come on. Blow the fucking whistle.” 

And as if he heard her pleading, the referee blows the whistle giving Richmond their win. 

Laughter and cheers and songs fill the air as every Richmond fan is on their feet celebrating a win they so desperately wanted and that the team fought so hard for.

The win Jamie fought so hard for. 

She tries to find him across the pitch but there are too many people, hugging and celebrating, too much noise. She just hopes he knows how proud she is.

And she hopes that somewhere out there his dad is watching. Sees him win, with the team he doesn’t approve of. Watches him succeed and be the man he never was and never will be.

She hopes somewhere deep in the inky black pit that is his heart, he finds a glimmer of pride for his only son, even if it comes entirely belated.

Jamie has won quite a few matches by now and it’s always a great feeling but some wins stand out. This is one of them.

His heart is filled with gratitude and pride, and his entire system is flooded with adrenaline and utter euphoria. He’s positively buzzing as the team gathers in the hallway leading toward the locker room. Some of them have been whisked away to give short post-match interviews — as if there is much to say other than how fucking awesome it feels to win — while the others are waiting for them to come back so they can all meet up at the locker room for some after match briefing. 

“Superstar, you did it!” 

Her voice carries through the hallway above the rest of all the noise. Like a siren calling out to him, she can’t hear anything but her, it all shifts into the background.

She weaves through the crowd like a fucking goddess in blue. He always thought she looked good in the Richmond colors and seeing her with his name on her back never fails to make his heart shutter with delight. But there’s something about today that makes this even more special. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline of winning. Of making his mom proud and proving his dad wrong. Of proving himself wrong. Maybe it’s seeing her in his kit, with his name and his number smiling that radiant smile of hers. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things. But something makes his brain short-circuit for a moment. Just a fleeting moment but long enough to make him push through the crowd until he’s standing in front of her, matching smiles on their faces. Just long enough for him to softly place one hand on her waist and pull her closer, so unbelievably close. Just long enough to cradle her face in his other hand, gentle and careful, like the most precious thing in the world. Long enough for him to place his lips on hers in a kiss so sweet, so long in the making, it feels surreal. It feels like he’s still stuck in his saccharine daydream.

And then reality snaps back and he pulls away, opening his eyes to a smiling (Y/N) staring back up at him through curious eyes.

“Silly boy, what was that?” 

She doesn’t sound upset, in fact, his delusions might even make him think she sounds delighted. 

“I — “ 

“Jamie, locker room. Let’s go, boy!” 

Ted’s voice calls out to him all full of glee and jubilation. The guy sounds even more chipper than usual and that says a whole lot. 

Pulling away from her feels like having a bubble suddenly popped. Every what-if that has been clouded by post-win euphoria suddenly bears their ugly head again. Sometimes Jamie wishes his thoughts weren’t so fucking loud all the time.

“Go, your coach is asking for you. I’ll see you at the after-party. We’ll talk then, yeah?”

Only they don’t because, for some inexplicable reason, Jamie avoids her like the plague.

Everyone is gathered at the bar for celebratory drinks, it’s a private function, just the team and family and associates. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited. And all things considered this night should be magical. Only it’s not, because once again Jamie refuses to let himself be loved.

Rejection tastes bitter. It’s sharp and metallic. Rejection also tastes quite a lot like tequila.

The salt, the lime, the liquor — it’s supposed to make her feel better. It’s supposed to mend the cracks in her heart, if only for a night. 

It doesn’t do any of that, it only makes her fucking sad.

How foolish of her to believe that he’d feel the same, that he’d finally pick up on the hints she’s been dropping for over a decade and reciprocate the feelings. Maybe they never stood a chance anyway. Maybe —

No, actually fuck that.

He can’t do this, it’s unfair. You don’t kiss someone, not like that at least, and then ignore them for the rest of the night. Especially not when that person is your best fucking friend.

Bumping against people left and right, she makes her way across the room to stand next to a smiling Jamie deep in conversation with a pretty girl, who (Y/N) is quite sure is the sister of one of his teammates.

“I need to talk to you.” It’s not a request. Not this time. This conversation has been a long time coming. It’s time, she thinks, to finally be brave. One can only swallow down their feelings and emotions for so long, until they come bubbling to the surface like a fucking volcano rolling over Pompeii. She just hopes that once the dust settles there will be hope instead of death and destruction.

“Uh, kind of in the middle of something here.” 

She can’t stand this part of him. This fake, unbothered cool guy who has no empathy for her or anyone other than himself. She hates it mostly because this is not the real Jamie, just some cardboard cutout version of him.

“Too bad, that'll have to wait.” 

She doesn’t give him another second to resist or shake her off, just grabs onto his arm and pulls him through the crowd and towards the exit.

The nightly London air feels cold against her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps appear on her arms.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“What the fuck is going on with me?”

He can’t be serious.

“Yeah. I had something going there. She was well fit too.”

The urge to smack him across his stupidly handsome face is seriously fighting her desire to kiss him again right about now.

“Good for her but you owe me a conversation.”

“(Y/N), I — “ 

The way he rolls his eyes so dismissively, so suave and cool, it’s like a dagger straight to the heart.

“No, you know what — fuck you, Jamie. I know you have a hard time letting people in completely, and I get that that’s something you have to work through on your own time but the way you're treating me right now is really shit. You can’t kiss me like that and then run. I’ve been waiting for that fucking kiss for over a decade.” 

“What?” 

He looks at her with the signature Jamie Tartt look of confusion and innocence. Like a damn puppy or something. And if she wasn’t so annoyed, so hurt, maybe she’d find it endearing.

“I’m in love with you, Jamie. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sat next to you in class and you asked me if Pythagoras was that French guy. I’ve loved you when you were just a chaotic teenager. I’ve loved you when you won your first game and when you lost. I’ve loved you when you signed your first contract and when you made a complete fool of yourself on that ridiculous tv show. And I love you now. So to think you finally picked up on it and reciprocate my feelings was — I was so happy, Jamie. Only for you to completely ignore me for the rest of the night. I don’t deserve that. Not from you of all people. “

“Will you let me talk?”

“No, I’m not done yet.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I love you, Jamie and I know you think I shouldn’t and that you don’t deserve it, but guess what? I don’t care. I love you anyway and I am not asking for permission to love you. That’s not how it works. And I don’t love you despite your flaws, I love them too. Even your stupid 2003 looking haircut and your ridiculous clothes that make you look like a male Bratz doll sometimes. Sorry people in your life made you feel like you had to earn it just because they couldn’t see how phenomenal you are. Just you, Jamie Tartt, messy little prick.” 

Silence wraps around them like a thick blanket as a moment passes, then two. Jamie raises his eyebrows in question.

“Can I?”

“Yes, you can!”

“Jesus, alright. Stop yelling at me.”

“Well, I’m upset!”

“And I’m sorry about that. I never meant to upset you. Ever. I just — do you remember that one birthday, I think I turned 12, when me dad showed up and he was just being his usual asshole self and he made me play against him and then yelled at me in front of all the guests when he won? “

She sure does. Even at 12, she wanted to put her tiny little fist straight between Mr. Tartt’s eyebrows. “Yes.”

“You sat with me when I went to my room to escape. Refused to leave my side. Called my dad a wanker and you made me laugh. Then you got me a piece of cake and we ate it on my bed while watching Spongebob.” A smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about that day.

“I was 12 and I didn’t know a lot but I knew that night that I was in love with you and I immediately promised myself I wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Losing you is the scariest thing I can think about and my track record with people is pretty shit, honestly. So yeah I didn’t want to even risk fucking up with you. Rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.”

“So why did you kiss me earlier after all?”

“For one, you looked so fit in blue, with my name on your back. I was full of adrenaline and just so fucking happy. I uh — I think my mind was telling me that it’s finally time to be brave for once.”

Hearing him say it, it’s something she never expected but always hoped for. She’s played this scene out so many times in her dreams and yet she doesn’t know what to say or do now that it is actually happening.

“So what now?”

“Well, if you let me, I was gonna kiss you. Because if you think that other kiss was great, this next one is going to change your life.”

As those words fall from his lips, (Y/N) can’t get close to him quick enough. Pulling him towards her by the front of his shirt. Closer and closer until there is no room left between them and he gently nuzzles his nose against hers. 

“Jamie Tartt?” 

“Hmm?”

“Change my life!”

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thought so. And maybe a part of him still does and always will. But kissing (Y/N), his best girl, the fucking love of his life, it feels quite easy to let himself be loved. 

Feels as easy as breathing. And for once in his life, the reality is so much sweeter than the daydream. 

[heartpiratedrabbles]

His True Self

Prompt: Sabo slowly shows you his true colors the longer you're with him.

~~ Part 2 Part 3

Sabo X Reader

Joining the revolutionary army was a big step for you. You watched as your friends and neighbors were kidnapped by the celestial dragons, or how the Marines, the people meant to protect you, had slowly started pointing their guns your way. It disgusted you. People made to do the World governments bidding, no one having any will. It made you sick. So when a small group of people came to your coastal town and started fighting, you joined them.

         The bombs went off and fire was everywhere, but you felt more alive fighting for your freedom and happiness. The thrill as you finally let your anger boil over, taking it out on any corrupt official while ushering others to safety. Running through your now ruined village, everything felt so slow yet your heart was beating so fast. You heard a crash and crying in the distance and made that your next target, a child no doubt was stuck somewhere.

         As you got closer, you climbed rubble, ignoring how your body ached and the scrapes and cuts throbbed with every movement. It was only when you got to the top of the crushed building that you could see where the child was, leg stuck under a concrete pillar as they were wailing in pain. You were about to jump down when a flash of blue past you, a man in a trench coat and a top hat was there, already hauling the pillar the best he could.

         He glances up at you and you jump to gather the child who had barely crawled from underneath. Picking her up the man, who had climbed out of the destroyed room, was telling you something but the adrenaline in your body made it hard to listen to anything. He reaches his hands out and you hand him the crying child before lifting yourself out. He flashes you a smile before letting you take the girl back and just as fast as he appeared in front of you, he had disappeared deeper into the battle.

         It wasn’t until after the soot settled and the now refugees were gathered that the revolutionary army scouted out the crowd and found you. You, along with plenty of other people, agreed to join and packed what little remained as you left your home behind to fight for freedom.

~~~

         While going through training, you were shocked when a cloaked figure came up to you, “Y/N was it? Why don’t you follow me?” The man’s voice was deep and you could see a tattoo covering half his face and you immediately listen to the head of the army. You follow him into the main building before sitting down in a meeting room, “I want you to help the second in command with his duties.” You sat there listening and confused as he explained further into what you’d be doing.

         Soon your heart sank, “You want me to be a secretary?” you interrupted him. The helping organizing the paperwork, the helping him remember meetings, putting together bags so he wouldn’t forget anything, even reminding him of meals. These mundane tasks were not what you were expecting when you joined, “What about liberating towns? Or helping those in need-“

         “You would be helping, by making sure everything works smoothly here, others can focus more out there,” Dragon said before dropping a file on the table, “You have enough experience working in business and banking that having you help with the books, and more importantly Sabo’s workload would be a great relief.” He flips through the file that you came to realize was everything about you. You argue a bit with the position before ultimately agreeing. There wasn’t much you can do when the head of the revolutionary army was asking you.

~~~

         As you walk towards the office that you knew was the second of command you could hear arguing pursue, “Why do I need a ‘helper’ They’ll just slow me down” A mans voice rang out and you let out a deep sigh, at least you weren’t the only one not looking forward to this.

         “Because I can’t babysit you all the time Sabo.” A determined and final tone of a women stated, “You’re trying to ignore your work right now as it is, of course you need help.” You chuckle a bit before knocking on the door and peeping your head in, “Y/N! Thank god, I looked into your background as was the one that begged Dragon to assign you to this idiot,” She beamed while pulling you further into the room.

~~~

         As time went one Sabo seemed to appreciate the effort you put forth, you never realized just how much the second in command had on his plate. You had started just answering calls and organizing trainings for his team without double-checking with him, you knew his schedule better than he did if he wasn’t out on a mission.

         And if he was on a mission? Well you filled in his seat and did everything you could without him, the stacks of piled up work sending you into overdrive the first time he had left for just 2 weeks. When he came back you had heard Koala practically dragging him to the office you sat yourself in yelling at him about paperwork, to both of their surprise most of it already done, some set to the side for a signature and a small pile of things you couldn’t do without him.

         The time you save him let him focus on other things, and at some point, he even remembered to take breaks and eat by himself much to everyone’s shock. “Y/N Where have you been all my life?” He asked while you brought him a cup of tea, despite not having as much work he’d still complain about the paperwork.

~~~

         Despite all the work you did to keep Sabo up-to-date and on track, you still enjoyed training with everyone else. You wanted to be able to fight even if you didn’t have too and enjoyed the thrill of your muscles burning after a particularly hard training session. You never tried to hide the fact that you did this from Sabo, you didn’t even know he’d want to know something like that, it’s just that it never came up previously.

         And there you were, sitting in the chair in front of his desk, avoiding his hardened gaze after you had gotten a pretty bad stab wound by accident. It wasn’t a particularly large wound, although it was rather deep and required medical attention, narrowly had it avoided an artery. The bandage on your thigh was secure, and while it ached it was fine. But you could feel the glare of your boss as you avoided the topic, “Are you going to tell me how you ended up with stitches?” His voice stern and arms crossed.

         “Why do I need to tell you that? I’m healthy and can continue working, there’s nothing wrong with me.” You say, your hands tapping your knees while looking away like a child who got caught coloring the wall. You didn’t understand why he was so insistent on this; he’s never shown concern before when you tripped and fell or banged your head on the door way.

         “Y/N, if that were true, I wouldn’t have gotten word that I can’t have you running around like normal.” He huffs out standing up, walking around his desk to stand in front of you. So that was it, he wasn’t actually concerned about you. You felt your heart drop slightly at the realization, He was frustrated that work wouldn’t be going smoothly for a while.

         “I’m so sorry that I’ll be an inconvenience for the foreseeable future,” It’s your turn to cross your arms and glare up at him, “I’ll be more careful next time as to not hold you back.” You go to stand up, wincing a little bit at the weight on your leg only to be pushed back down into the chair.

         “It’s not that Y/N.” Sabo’s grip on your shoulder was firm and he knelt down, putting his other hand over the bandage, massaging it slightly. The action made you blush slightly. “I don’t want to see you hurt, not like this” His voice was low, quiet enough that you barely heard him. Your mind started to flutter at what he could mean but you shook your head slightly.

         “You don’t have to protect me Sabo, I joined the revolutionaries thinking that I’d get hurt. It’s only coincidence that I ended up in one of the safest areas,” You blurted out, you wouldn’t let your heart make you believe things.

         The hand on your thigh gripped it at your words, making you wince at the sudden pressure, “That’s not what I mean.” Sabo mutters, standing back up and walking out of the room, leaving you all by yourself. You stare confused before standing up yourself, slowly making your way back to your quarters.

~~~

         Koala had come to you the next day saying that Sabo didn’t want to see you for the time being. She phrased as a way to make sure you’d heal fast but you couldn’t help but feel like there was more to it. Regardless you decided to heed her words and not head to the office building. Instead, you took your time in the library to read more about past missions, or sat near the training grounds to watch others prepare for combat.

         The few times you did try to see Sabo he had made sure someone stopped you and led you back to your room. It was rather frustrating that you couldn’t even check in on how he was doing or talk to him at all. You even tried finding him after the normal work hours to be turned away by anyone. You missed the random conversations that would pop up throughout the day and reading and watching had grown boring.

         It was only a week into your little break that you demanded to start working again, refusing to turn away when someone tried to stop you from entering the building. The doctor had finally approved of you walking around and you weren’t going to sit still until everything was perfectly healed. It was truly frustrating how much pent-up energy you seemed to have in you.

         When you knocked on the door opening it you saw the mess that had become of the empty office. Your mind forgetting the last time you had seen Sabo as you got to work organizing and cleaning everything. “How could he let this place get this bad?” You wondered out loud as you started sifting through the papers to separate them appropriately.

         You were only getting more exasperated as you saw papers from a week ago still not finished that you sat down and started catching up on everything. Filling out any information you knew, approving of some documents, refusing on ones you’d know Sabo wouldn’t allow. It wasn’t until you heard a stifled laughter that you looked up to see your boss in the doorway.

         He watched in amusement as you’re faced turned from that of pure focus to a contorted one of anger and annoyance. “What have you been doing while I was gone?!” You yell, slamming your hands down on the desk standing up. You walk around the desk, Sabo suddenly realizing just how pissed you are, “I was forced to take time off and you can’t even properly keep up?!”

         “Hey, Y/N wait a second-“ His words are stopped by a surprisingly strong grip on his shoulder as you smile up at him. Pulling him to his desk and forcing him to sit down.

         “You aren’t leaving this room until you’re finished.” You say with a finalized tone, “You get mad at me for getting hurt and force me to take time off but can’t even do your work properly when I’m away??”

         “I was busy with other things-“

         “Do I have to babysit you to make sure your work?” You place a stack in front of him, forcing a pen into his hand. You were not going to listen to his excuses, it was an awful idea for you not to come into the office for a week for the sole fact that you weren’t babysitting him doing his work. Sabo looks at you before sulking into his work as you stare daggers at him.

~~~

         “Y/N please, I’ve done so much already~” Sabo cried out from his desk that you had decidedly ignored. Sabo kept trying to ignore work by talking to you, and so you have been giving him the silent treatment for most of the day. You glance over to see the hefty pile of paperwork that still has to be done but the even larger of work that has to be sent out.

         Sighing you get up from your spot, “When I get back you can stop for the day.” Your voice short as you grabbed a stack to deliver them to the appropriate parties. Sabo looks at you with pleading eyes, “If I come back and you aren’t working, I’ll make sure you can’t go on a mission for another month.” You had been able to switch Sabo’s missions thanks to Dragon, and just as you had pent up energy from a single week of doing nothing, your scarred boss would get restless if he doesn’t leave base ever so often.

         “Are you mad?” Sabo asks as you’re about to leave the room. It stops you in your tracks. Mad? Sabo didn’t often care about your emotions, or he didn’t seem to let you know if he cared. But now the man was blatantly asking you and it felt strange.

         Turning yourself around to face him you lean against the door way, a throb still coming from your stab wound, “I’m not mad Sabo. I’m just disappointed in you.” And the guilty face he was wearing shifted into one of horror as he yelled out that, that was worse. You chuckle a bit while turning away. “Then remember to do your work when I’m away,” you yell over your shoulder as you walk away.  At least he wasn’t acting too different.

~~~

         “Absolutely Not.” Sabo’s nagging voice rang through your ears. You had finally convinced Dragon to let you go on a field mission, but only if Sabo would let you go. You had barely gotten the question out of your mouth when Sabo hit his fist against the desk, startling you at his sudden outburst.

         “Why not?” Your voice was cool but it was clear you were frustrated at the sudden refusal, “I’ve been continuing to train and Koala agreed to help you with work while I’m away. What’s the issue?!”

         “Why are you even training in the first place? You got stabbed just a month ago and you think you’re ready to go on a mission? And what about you’re actual job? You work for me Y/N.” Sabo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

         “How am I suppose to help if you don’t let me go on missions-“

         “You’re not going. That’s final.” Sabo interrupted you staring right into your eyes with a sudden determination, “I don’t care how much you want to go on a mission, I cannot risk you getting hurt.”

         “I signed up for the risk Sabo. I know what could happen and if needed I’m prepared to-“ You flinch when you Sabo stands suddenly, his chair hitting the wall behind him with a thud.

         “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. I need you here. No where else. You are not to train anymore either.” He’s leaning over his desk now, his hands balled into fists that you’re sure if he wasn’t wearing gloves his knuckles would be white.

His words ring through your head for just a second before you respond without thinking, “You won’t even let me go on missions and now you’re saying I can’t train? Who do you think you are to stop me from doing things in my freetime?” You furrow your eyes, tilting your head closer to the man in front of you.

“I didn’t think I’d have to babysit the girl I like from getting hurt!” Sabo yells, his voice echoing in the room.

“Getting hurt is apart of the job. I’ll be more carefu-“ You stop yourself midsentence. One. Two. Three. Four seconds for you to process what he just said. From the looks of it, he also if just realizing what he’s admitted, the scowl on his face being replaced with one of dumb horror. “Who do you have to babysit?” You voice quakes a bit, you must have heard him wrong and he averts his eyes, standing up straight and readjusting his vest, seemingly ignoring your question.

The silence that fills the air rings in your ears as you stare at the man in front of you. His arms crossed while he refuses to meet your gaze, his face tinged red, “You’re dismissed for the evening Y/N.”

More silence fills the air before you respond, “You really think I’m going to leave just like that without clarifying what you said previously?” You lean back in your chair, crossing a leg over the other. Sabo glares at you for a second before sighing at the display of your getting comfortable, a tug of a smile appearing on your face as he walks around his desk to be right in front of you.

You look up at him, waiting for him to say something but are more shocked at the hardened face coming closer to you, either of his arms now trapping you in your chair. “I like you.” His face was merely inches away from your own and this time it’s your confident teasing face that turns into one of embarrassment as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, any quick remark you were prepared to make falling silent on your lips as your mouth hangs open.

Your eyes flash about Sabo’s face, from his unblinking, unmoving eyes, to his eyebrows, even to his lips before going back to his eyes. It’s getting hard to think with how close he is, and such a direct sentence made your head spin, “Now than Y/N. If you have something to say, or you want to leave. You better do it now.” His tone was serious as he watches for any sign of resistance.

You blink for what feels like the first time in forever, closing your mouth as you realize you are still caged by him. Slowly his hand goes to under your chin, lifting your face up to his, it’s the smallest hesitation before he meets your lips with his.

A soft, gentle kiss that drives your mind crazy as you lean into it yourself. His lips leaves yours, though he is still close enough that you can feel them brush against yours as he speaks, “Is that your answer Y/N?” His voice just barely above a whisper as his eyes flutter open to yours. You can only manage a small nod as he smiles, standing back up tall. “Then you understand why I can’t let you go on a mission.” He proudly proclaims.

The sudden change blinks you out of your romantic trance, “What?! That’s not fair,” You complain, albeit much gentler this time round while standing up to be closer to eye level with him.

“Bosses orders, girlfriends can’t go on missions.” Sabo shrugs his shoulders, a wide grin across his face as he watches your face turn another shade of pink. He gently places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer, “Besides your wound is still healing. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you wincing every now and then.”

You breath hitches as your arms immediately go around his neck. “It’s just sore nothing more,” the subtle lie crosses your lips and you can see it doesn’t work as Sabo’s face changes to one of scolding, “I’ll be more careful.” The small grin the plays on his lips makes your heart skip a beat, “Talk to me again after you can run a mile without pain.” He leans down to kiss you again and you only hum in agreeance.

[rollingsins]

falling all in you

summary: Vada makes a purchase for the two of you. 18+ smut. 

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, strap-on sex, slight breeding kink if you squint. 

word count: 1.5k

a/n: for anon who requested top!vada. let me know your thoughts and what you want to see next!

When Vada had invited you over that afternoon to “study”, you’d expected it wouldn’t be long before you’d be under her like this. You’d been dating for a few months now, and often found it hard to keep your hands off each other. Especially on afternoons like this, when Vada had the entire house to herself. 

This time, she’d reached for something under the bed, coy smile as she caught the look on your face.  The rush of want that coursed through you had been stifled only by how long it was taking her to get the damn thing on. 

“One sec. Hold on.” Vada says. Her face is knitted in concentration. She fiddles with the strap. “Technical difficulties.” 

She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Damn. How do dudes do this every time?” 

“They don’t.” You say, deadpan. “Remember?” 

She has the good sense to look slightly sheepish. 

“Right. Duh.” She twists her hips, trying to loosen the straps. It doesn’t work. 

“Maybe I should wear it.” You suggest, a little impatient. Vada’s parents are out, but you’ve no idea when they’ll be back. The last thing you want them to come home to is Vada trying to figure out how to strap a plastic cock to her hips. 

“No.” Vada says, a little quickly. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I want to use it on you.” She says, biting her lip, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.” 

You smile at that. Rub your hand over her forearm. 

“Have you now?” 

“Yes. So help me with this, will you?”

It’s kind of erotic, helping her tighten the straps around her hips. The toy is bright pink, not too big, not too small. You’d spoken about getting one a few times, it was something you’d both wanted to try. You hadn’t expected her to find one so fast. 

“Where did you even get this from?” You ask, “Did you put it on your mom’s credit card?” 

“I got it online, told my mom it was her Christmas present so she wouldn’t open it.” Vada says. 

You raise an eyebrow ”That was- risky. What if Amelia had opened it?”

“Amelia knows better than to touch my stuff.” Vada says, blowing her hair out of her face, “There. I think I’ve got it.” 

She moves her hips slightly, watches as the dildo jiggles. Loops it around in a circle. “I’ve always wanted to do the helicopter.”

“You’re making this remarkably unsexy.” You say, hide behind a laugh. 

She raises an eyebrow, then lifts her shirt over her head. Your eyes fall straight to her breasts. 

“How about now?” She asks, with a smirk. Playful, like she knows she has you. You let out a small sigh. 

“Not fair. Jerk.” You whisper as she pulls you in. 

You kiss for a while. You don’t ever get tired of kissing Vada. Her lips are addictive, they taste like Cola and strawberries, a blend of your respective lip glosses. You cup her cheeks with your hands, groaning slightly as she pulls you into her, and onto her lap. You’re already naked, she’d seen to that earlier. You feel the silicone of the dildo against your stomach, sending a white coil of arousal through your body. 

“I bought some lube too.” She says breathlessly. You draw her hand down to you, whimpering as she cups you. 

She’s smiling as she pulls back. “Though I guess we don’t need it.” 

“Shut up.” You pull her back into you, cheeks reddening. 

Her fingers find your clit, rubbing gently. You slip your tongue into her mouth. You feel her hands under you, trying to guide herself in. It’s a little awkward, the way you’re sitting. She isn’t used to it. In one swift movement she’s pushing inside you. 

Your fingernails dig into her bare back as she slides in. You let out a low moan as she fills you up. 

“Fuck.” 

“Good?” Vada murmurs. Her nose brushes your cheek. The toy is cold, much colder than her fingers and so much girthier. It takes you a minute to get used to it. The stretch burns you, in the nicest way. 

“Yes. Holy shit.” 

Her hands fall to your hips, gripping you tight. You kiss her again, gently rock yourself down into her lap. The head hits you just right. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, trying to get as close to her as you can. 

Her lips dip down to your neck. 

It feels amazing. She feels amazing. Her bare skin against yours, her tongue against your collarbone. You thread your fingers in her hair, trying to hold her in place. 

“Should we talk dirty?” Vada’s asking. Her voice is a little gravelly, low. She’s turned on, “It feels like we should be talking dirty.” 

You bite your lip. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, and it didn’t really surprise you. Vada loved to talk. To a fault. It was one of the things you loved most about her. 

“Do you want to talk dirty?” You ask, unable to hold back a smile. You press your lips to hers. 

“Yeah.” She furrows her eyebrows. Thinks a moment, “What do I say?” 

You try not to laugh. Smooth over the crease between her eyebrows with your fingers, “Just tell me what you want to do to me.” You say, nuzzle your lips against her neck. You can feel her heart jumping, smooth the skin over with your tongue. 

“I want-“ She thinks for a moment. “I want to fuck you.” 

“Mm.” You murmur, ride her a little faster,” What else?” 

“Um.” She thinks. “I want to fuck you hard.” 

“I think we established that, baby.” You bite your lip. She isn’t good at this. It’s sweet. Endearing. You press your lips to her cheek as you tilt your hips down onto the dildo. 

“I don’t know.” She whines, “This is hard. You try.” 

You bite your lip, lean in a little closer, until your lips are brushing the shell of her ears. “I want you to throw me back onto the bed and fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Her mouth falls open. In less than a second you feel her hands grasp tight around your body as she lifts you up, back into the mattress. She falls atop you, and you groan as the strap-on sinks even deeper into you. 

She kisses you feverishly. Her entire weight on you as she thrusts her hips into you. 

“Oh my god, Vada.” 

It feels even better than before. The way she jerks her hips, kissing you furiously. You’re completely encompassed by her. Her lips, her hair in your face, her hands on your thighs, holding you open so she can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

“You look so fucking hot right now,” Vada says. Her eyes are dark, her lips wet with your saliva. She reaches down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

The sensation almost sends you careening off the edge. She dips down, grazes her teeth over your neck. “I love fucking you like this.” 

“Harder, baby.” You gasp, moaning out as she complies. Her hips jerk into yours, steady, never faltering. You can’t believe how good it feels. How natural this is for her. You bury your head in her neck, groaning out as she rockets into your g-spot.

“Like that?” She murmurs. You nod, rather violently. 

“Yes, just like that.” 

“I wish I could feel it.” She says, voice feverish, “I wish I could feel how tight you are. I wish I could fill you up with my cum.” 

Your stomach coils pleasantly. 

“Jesus, Vada.” 

“Too much?” 

She’s pulling back slightly, stilling her hips. Apprehension on her face. 

You jerk your head, a little too quickly. Try and tug her back into you. 

“No.” You say. Voice desperate, needy,  “Keep going.” 

Her hips rocket into you. Purposeful. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body. 

She’s driving you to the edge. 

“Are you close?” Her voice is tight, “I think I’m going to cum.” 

The thought of her cumming from this alone sends a shiver down your spine. You clutch her close, press your lips to her neck. 

“Fuck. Yes baby, cum. Cum inside me.” You say, voice desperate. 

That does it. You feel her tighten against you, wildly jerking her hips as she cums hard. The change in pace sends you toppling over the edge with her, moaning into her ear as your orgasm ripples through you. She slumps on top of you, lays while she catches her breath. 

Your heartbeat thrums pleasantly, you wrap your arms around her body, press a kiss to her head. 

“That was so hot.” You mumble after a while, “How are you so good at that, already?” 

She looks up at you with a wide grin. 

“I’ve been doing hip thrusts in the gym.” She says, rather proud, “I told Nick it was for soccer.” 

At that, you laugh. 

“You’re so cute.” You mumble against her lips. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

You could lay like this forever. Press a sleepy kiss to the top of her head. Then remember it’s four in the afternoon and her mom will be home to make dinner soon. 

“We should shower.” You say, half-heartedly. “Put that thing away before your parents get home.” 

Vada hums against you. Presses a kiss to your shoulder before she’s peeking up at you, mischievous smile on her lips. 

“We could. Or… we could do it again?”