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wolverigrl · 19 days

Text

The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

379 notes · View notes

sinsandsweetness · 1 year

Note

something about hyperfeminine reader x rick.... another anon said he'd adore pink nail polish & i so totally agree. maybe cause he's so rough and sharp edged? and it's the very opposite of him? so the pretty pink skirts & sweet perfume you always wear would make his brain fuzzy in the best way !! 🤧

using this as an excuse to write something extremely self indulgent 🤍 obsessed with this sweet, girly, almost bimbo reader that Rick can’t help but be a little extra soft with… <3

When he steps out of the shower and onto the bathmat, he can’t help but smile at the sight of you sitting on the sink, one foot up and crouched over, focused intently on the toenail you’re currently painting. And he can’t help but notice how cute it is that your tongue is poking out the side of your mouth.

Rick rubs a towel on his hair and then wraps it around his waist, walking over to the dresser in the bedroom and grabbing some boxers. You’re a little too immersed in perfecting the pale pink pedicure to notice that he even finished his shower.

“Need some help?” He asks, coming up to the sink and reaching into a drawer. Grabbing some shaving cream and a safety razor.

You look up at the sound of his husky voice. Taking in the sight of his wet hair. Curls forming and dripping onto his shoulders. His torso, glistening with little beads of water that are racing to meet the waist band of his plaid boxer shorts.

“Hm?” You say. The sight of him went straight between your legs, making you almost immediately forget his question.

“D’you need some help there, sweetie?” He nods towards the hand gripping at Essie’s ballet slippers.

“Oh. No, I just finished. Thank you though,” you smile up at him sweetly, screwing the cap back on the bottle and turning to let your legs dangle off the marble countertop.

He positions himself in between your legs and against the vanity, while you lean back on your hands. Watching his brows draw together in focus as he rubs shaving cream along his jaw, his chin and the bottom half of his face. Grabbing the razor, he starts to make long, languid strokes down his face and neck. The blade moving with ever curve of his jaw, so smooth and intentional. But he can feel you staring. Glancing from the mirror to your gaze and then back. Trying to fight the smirk from forming on his face.

“Is it hard?” You ask, oblivious to the teasing grin on his face.

“Shaving?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you scared you’re gonna cut yourself, or somethin’?” You ask, doe eyes wide and curious. And the sight makes him think about you on your knees, having looked up at him in nearly the exact same way, all sweet and eager and so fucking perfect.

Rick shakes his head, at both the intrusive thought and your question, “Not really. Don’t you shave your legs? It’s the same thing, sweetheart.”

“But this is on your face. And you’ve seen how many times I end up nicking myself.”

He smiles, knowing that it’s true. Watching you sit on the side of the tub, silky robe leaving very little to the imagination as you glide a razor up your legs, trying to go nice and slow and get every little hair. Turning sharply to look at him with wide eyes and a hand on your mouth when you both notice a crimson droplet, trickling all the way down to your ankle.

“Yeah. You aren’t so good at that are you?” He chuckles, pressing a quick peck to your mouth which you immediately wipe off because now there’s shaving cream on your nose.

It takes everything in his power not to kiss you again.

“So how do you always get it so good?” Your honeyed voice brings him back.

“Practice I guess. You wanna try?”

“And leave you with any more scars? No thank you.” You joke.

“C’mon. Give it a try.”

“You sure?”

He nods, urging the razor into your hand and leaning in for you, “Mhm. I trust you.”

You gulp at that comment. Hoping he can still keep that trust in a few minutes when you’re all done.

You try to copy what he was doing, going extra slow over the ridge of his jaw and the bump of his adam’s apple. He hums in approval and you take it as some kind of praise. Sitting up straight and a little more confident now that his hands have moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Panties now flush with his groin.

“I did it.” You say triumphantly, handing him back the razor and letting your hands slide around his waist, fingers interlocking on top of his tailbone. Cheek pressed to his chest as he leans forward to rinse the razor under the faucet beside you. Tapping the metal on the counter twice. The sound echoing through the room, before he places it on a folded towel on the other side of the sink.

He leans back up to look at you. Pretty eyes and pouty lips. Hair all soft and natural, and tucked behind the dainty gold jewelry dangling from your ears.

“Y’look so pretty.” You marvel, one hand coming up to his jaw. Freshly shaved, so smooth and warm. With just the tiniest strip of leftover shaving cream that needed to be washed off.

You are so much prettier, sweet girl, he thinks to himself. Unable to form a verbal answer now that you’re touching his face. His heart doing somersaults like it was the first time. It isn’t. But he loves feeling like it is.

Being with you in this moment makes him forget what was stressing him out before his shower. Completely unbothered by the tedious week he’d had helping the Tobin with the walls.

Now, all he can even think about is you. Your face. Your voice. Your long legs and the holy temple in between them.

He closes his eyes at your touch, soft and delicately tracing your way down his jaw. The attention sending a tingly, serene feeling up his neck and down his spine.

He can’t even help what he does next. Not that he really needed to. And definitely not that he wanted to. He pulls you in, tangling his fingers into the locks at the nape of your neck. Kissing your soft, plush lips and tracing a tongue over your bottom one.

You taste like candy. And you smell like a vanilla cupcake. And the combination of the two makes him want nothing more than to take a damn bite.

Gosh, you couldn’t be more different from him. So pure and soft and sweet. So fucking kind and perfect. And though he may be a bit biased given your relationship and all, he’s positive that not a soul in Alexandria would disagree.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls your legs around his waist, and he can’t help but smile against your lips and think to himself how fucking lucky he is that he found someone who can be his escape. Who can make his brain feel all fuzzy and his heart feel way too full. Who effortlessly distracts him from everything that’s wrong with in the world, just by being your beautiful self.

#rick grimes smut #rick grimes x y/n #Rick fluff #Rick grimes fluff #Rick grimes suggestive #rick grimes fanfiction #twd fanfiction #rick grimes #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes imagine #Rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #Rick daydream #t’s daydreams <3 #hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader x Rick

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bokunoheros · 12 days

Text

LIPSTICK STAINS & MIRRORS

CHARACTER: SHOUTO TODOROKI

GENRE: FLUFF, SMUT

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but written to be afab (shouto calls you princess once), reader is implied to be shorter than shouto, y’all are like 20+, married and live together, mirror sex, kissing, so much kissing, i love kissing, oral (m. receiving), fingering (reader receiving), inappropriate quirk usage (temperature play), shouto is a tease but in a loving manner, cervix kissing, chair sex, riding (reverse cowgirl), cumming inside, and aftercare, also kinda lazy ending?? bc i stayed up til 10am finishing this and wanna be done so bad

SUMMARY: you just ordered a bunch of new lipgloss and can’t wait to try it out — subsequently, your husband thinks you look beautiful, but doesn’t know how to verbalize it.

WORD COUNT: 7.7K

🦊’s A/N: this wasn’t actually going to be the first fic i posted here, but i DID just get a bunch of lipgloss i've waited a week and a half for, and would love to do the following <3 anyway shoutout judydoll they didn’t sponsor this but i wish they would. // also i pulled like two all-nighters writing this so i’m sorry if it like. starts unraveling a lil at the end i didnt actually proofread this god bless everyone thank you for giving this fic a chance

you had just ordered a bunch of new lipgloss you’d gotten in a buy 2 get 1 free sale, and it had finally come in the mail! after squealing excitedly and startling your poor husband, and highschool sweetheart, you quickly ran up to your shared bedroom and sat down in front of your vanity. fumbling with the box for a second, you get up to grab a pair of scissors from the bathroom before using one blade to cut through the packaging tape sealing the contents inside away.

once you’d managed to get your greedy little hands on the new products is around the same time shouto had wandered into the bedroom, where he stood leaning against the door frame, watching as you excitedly looked down at your lipstick and wondered which one to try on first.

hm……. maybe the more natural looking color instead of the red..? probably, since it's less likely to leave a stain, you think to yourself, oblivious to your husband's presence — until you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, that is.

“oh! shouto, just in time,” you grin, waving him over. “which one do you think i should try first?” you ask, knowing he had always shown an interest in the process of how you did your makeup. not that he had actually verbalized said interest, rather, it was something you noticed while you were still in highschool. after months into the actual relationship, you two had finally had sex and you had stayed the night at his house. once this became an almost routine of sorts, you'd begin bringing stuff to stay overnight, and get ready for class in the morning, including a few makeup palettes. and so, shouto slowly took an interest in the way in which you’d do your makeup — be it just some eyeshadow/liner, or a fully beat face, he found it to be so…..interesting.

that being said, the youngest of the todoroki family takes a step towards you and away from the doorframe to look down at the lipsticks in your hands and picks the one in the shiny silver, almost holographic, tube and says this one.

huh, what do you know? he had picked the lipstain! guess it’s meant to be, then.

untwisting the cap, you shift in your seat slightly to better face the mirror as you pull the wand from the bottle, and find yourself face to face with the applicator you had been tweaking over for what felt like ever — a nice, smooth, iron tip! one of a kind, really, as you had never seen anything like it before! looking into the mirror, your gaze lingers on shouto for but a moment before focusing on your own lips and applying the stained lipgloss evenly — and then one more coat for good measure.

“what do you think?” you ask sweetly, turning around in your seat to face him.

what he thinks? obviously, he thinks you look stunningly, jaw droppingly gorgeous regardless of what you’re wearing, or if you have makeup on or not (save for the times you’ve ugly cried around him…), but god…. he can’t ignore the way his body suddenly feels flushed as he looks at your lips and the red-ish color currently staining them.

“i think — it looks nice,” he says simply as he takes a few steps closer to you, up until he’s directly behind your vanity chair and planting his hands on the back of it.

“just… nice?” your voice comes out softer than normal, and you sound audibly disappointed. at this, shouto begins to internally panic as he thinks of a way to get his admiration.

“very nice,” he corrects quickly, and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle at how rushed he sounded — you understood that your husband wasn’t exactly a stellar wordsmith, so you weren’t actually too upset with him.

“that’s it?” this time, you sound much more lighthearted, as you raise a brow at him and watch him speedrun the five stages of grief through his expressions and slight body language.

“....i think, you look very lovely,” he’s finally able to vocalize. even after all this time, he still got somewhat bashful when complimenting you — it wasn’t his fault! you just happened to render him speechless and left his dick hard every time you did anything! fuck… how should he go about this? maybe he should just show you what he thinks? yes…. that should work.

“stand up,” he says all of a sudden — he didn’t sound demanding or rude or anything, but there was a certain firmness to his voice that had you obeying without a second thought. without a moment of hesitation, shouto steps around to the side of the chair so he’s standing almost in front of you, and plants his large, calloused hands on your hips.

“shouto….” your voice comes out as a mere whisper as he pulls you closer toward him, left hand coming to cup your cheek as you look up at him.

“hm?” is all you get in reply as he leans in to kiss you tenderly.

tilting his head slightly to the side, he slots his lips over your painted ones in hopes of properly conveying his feelings on how he thinks you look. truthfully, as embarrassing as it may be, shouto wishes you’d put some lipstick on him so he could kiss you all over and leave a physical mark as you so often did to him. maybe one day he would have to sneak some of your lipgloss for himself to surprise you with? perchance… (you can’t just say perchance!) that being said, he takes advantage of the lipstick you’re currently wearing and hopes it transfers onto his lips.

and just like that, you’ve forgotten all about your new lipstick, or anything that wasn’t your husband, really. when you first met him, it was a little difficult to imagine shouto todoroki as a good kisser, and it was kinda true initially!, but after a little guidance and experience, he very quickly got the hang of it and used his newfound skills to turn you into nothing more than a panting mess.

swiping his tongue over the seam of your lips, he pulls away with a slight grin just as you part them for him.

“hey…..” you whine. “that’s not fair.”

“what isn’t?” he asks in a way that would’ve made you think he was playing dumb if he wasn’t….. well, like the way he was. you know your husband well enough to know that he was asking an earnest question, as he often teased you without meaning to or being aware of it.

“just… kiss me again, …please?” you ask in such a saccharine voice, shouto finds himself unable to resist for even a moment as he eagerly leans back in for another kiss.

god…. he was just so fucking weak when it came to You. he could never tell you no or deny you of what you asked for — hell, the first time you asked if you could kiss him (when he was still a kissless virgin), he accidentally bonked his head against yours in trying to copy the way you tilted your head to the side. …only, he had tilted his in the same direction as you, making for a very awkward, very laughable (but memorable) first kiss.

“mmh,” he hums quietly, pleasurably, as his lips work against yours — gently and tenderly, full of nothing but adoration for you, his sweet spouse.

there just truly weren’t enough words in the world for shouto to describe his affections for you, so instead, he often took to showing you exactly how he felt; more often than not, this led to fleeting but heated kisses throughout the day that left you on your toes and wanting for more. jesus, did he even realize the effect he had on you? (he did Nawt.)

this time, it was you to take the initiative to swipe your tongue over his plump lower lip before nibbling on it lightly and sucking it into your mouth. at this, the softest little moan slips past shouto’s throat at the feeling and he pulls you closer to him, so much so that your chest was now flush against his as the hand on your cheek leaves a cooling sensation against your flushed skin.

releasing his lip with a wet, almost schliiick kind of noise, you go to pull away from the kiss, just as he had done earlier, just to find the hand on your cheek had shifted to cradle the back of your head, and the hand on your hip had turned into an arm wrapped tightly around your waist as shouto’s tongue manages to slip into your open mouth.

you can’t help but giggle at the almost ticklish feeling of the wet muscle running around the inside of your cheeks before his tongue is suddenly ice cold and you’re squealing and trying to push him away.

“shouto!” you cry with no real irritation or upsetness — all he had done was catch you off-guard, really. okay, so maybe he could tease you on purpose every now and then..! it just wasn’t often that he did such a thing! he was typically kind of oblivious to a lot of things — not that it was his fault or anything; he hadn’t exactly grown up with the best social cues or …. uhm. family, in general, really….. (touya and enji i’m looking at you).

“yeah?” he breathes, looking down at you with stars in his eyes.

“what was that about?” you ask, trying to steady your breathing, chest heaving slightly as your hands find their way up to his chest, where they rest on his boo—well defined and muscled pecs.

“what was what about?” he echoes, tilting his head, actually playing dumb this time—he knew damn well what he had done this time around, and he couldn’t contain the little smile that tugged at the corners of his plump and almost pouty lips. he loved using his quirk to tease you — given, he’d been extremely hesitant about it at first, worried he might hurt you, or somehow cause some kind of permanent damage. thankfully, as the years went by, he gradually warmed up to it, and now? he couldn’t get enough of your reactions! like when he was fingering you, and suddenly his hand started to get a little too hot, or a little too cold, depending on which one he was using; it wasn’t enough to actually hurt or cause any damage, just some mild discomfort turned to pleasure once you got used to the feeling. and sometimes, whenever you let him cum inside or somewhere on you, his cum felt hotter than it should — sure, yeah, cum is warm, but…. his was just hot! it didn’t scald or anything, but it was definitely an added sensation that wouldn’t be possible without his quirk.

“you know what..!” is what you would have said had shouto not leaned in to kiss you again—effectively cutting you off and rendering you speechless. so maybe he knew he was a good kisser; he was highly observant after all, and would have to be a moron to not realize that he at least left you breathless every time! sure, he didn’t realize the full extent of the effect he had on you, but… partially aware is better than completely oblivious, right?

this time as you two kiss, the hand cradling your head moves back down to your hip, and before you know it, he’s picking you up and sitting himself down in the chair you were previously sitting on not too long ago.

“ah–!” you gasp at the sudden movement and change in position. now straddling his lap, with your back to the mirror, shouto begins trailing kisses down to your jawline and then the column of your neck. now, your husband wasn’t a particularly sloppy kisser. no, more often than not, he was very put together in almost every aspect of his life, and the bedroom was no exception. well, save for the occasions shouto just simply could not contain himself, and it was beginning to seem like one of those situations as he runs his freezing tongue over the sensitive skin of your neck, causing goosebumps to form as he nibbles at the junction where your neck and shoulder meet.

“sho–shouto—,” you breathe as he peppers kisses over your tender flesh. it had taken him a long while to be able to show affection so freely, and even now, he still had some trouble, but compared to the todoroki you knew in high school, he had improved by leaps and bounds!

your husband merely ignores your soft cry of his name—his dick doesn’t, though, and you can even feel it start to twitch to life beneath you. fuck. all you had done was put on a little lipstick, and?? now your husband was glued to your neck, nipping and biting along the way, even stopping in a couple places to suck against the skin there in order to leave a couple hickies!

“don’t tease,” you try to chide him, but it comes off weak and a little pathetic sounding as shouto finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and takes full advantage of it. jesus christ! his tongue was so cold!! it was such a contrast to the heat of his breath, you couldn’t help but pant at the feeling.

“‘m not,” is the only thing he says, it was more of a mumble, really, as he bites down harder than he had previously, and you can’t help the squeal that leaves you as his teeth sink into your skin.

“shouto!” if you didn’t know any better, or if you had married someone more… aggressive (katsuki)...., you might have thought your husband had drawn blood — he didn’t, obviously, as he would never intentionally hurt you, but he did like to toe the line of pleasure and pain often enough to keep you on your toes, just enough pain for it to be able to bleed into an acquired type of pleasure.

“yeah?” he all but hums in response, sounding pleased with himself.

he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, however, as he quickly pulls away from your neck to plant another heated kiss to your glossy lips. it doesn’t last very long, though, as he pulls away just far enough to look at you properly, and his eyes widen when he sees the way your lipstick had been smudged and it had spread slightly down to your neck (it was more like lightly red-colored patches in the shape of his lips peppered vaguely over your flesh).

“will you put on some more lipstick?” he suddenly asks, sounding out of breath.

giggling quietly at his request, you nod and oblige, shifting to turn around on his lap so that your back was against his chest, and your ass against his steadily growing erection. grabbing the tube of lipstick from your vanity, you untwist the cap and begin to apply more, focusing wholly on your lips during the process, completely missing the way shouto was eyeing you in the mirror.

after putting the cap back on and setting the silver bottle full of what felt watery liquid when you put it on, but wasn’t actually, back down on your vanity’s surface, you tilt your head to face your husband, who had wrapped his arms around your waist while you had been applying the aforementioned beauty product, and smile at him.

“better?” you wonder aloud, knowing it was much better indeed.

“mhmm,” he hums sweetly, one hand coming up to all but squish your cheeks, just without the pressure, to better tilt your head towards him as he himself leans in for yet another kiss. you swear, the first time you kissed shouto, a switch flipped in that poor boy’s brain, because ever since then, he’s been addicted to them like they’re crack—he needs your kisses the same way he needs oxygen to breathe or a therapist for his generations of trauma stuffed into a single, incomplete lifetime. (please….. please, go to group therapy with the rest of 1-a, i’m begging.)

shouto can’t help but smile against your lips as he pulls you flush against his chest and rolls his hips, and consequently, his hard-on, up against your ass. neither of you can contain the whimper or little gasp that slips past your throats, nor can you help the way one of your hands comes up to thread itself into his peppermint-colored hair as you part your lips needily, trying to shift around in his firm grasp.

despite the quality of your lipstick, it still transferred partially onto his lips, simply due to how fresh the coat was, not that your husband minds. he’d revel in the way he’d get to smear lipstick over your body, and — pause. his hands suddenly find themselves planted on your hips as he manhandles you to face him again, and meets your gaze for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead. but in that moment, you could see all the love and admiration in the world swirling around in his beautifully mismatched eyes, and you couldn’t control the wide-ass smile that had spread across your face—so wide, in fact, your cheeks hurt. even though it was such a simple action, you could truly feel his love for you in everything that he did.

“i love you—so much, y’know,” you practically coo, hands moving to cup his flushed cheeks as you simply just look at the man you had married. goddamn! he was so beautiful! taking in all the fine details of his face, you notice the faintest little dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and the way even his eyebrows, and even his awfully long lashes (he got them from his mother), are different colors. his perfectly plump and pouty lips to match his overall softer facial features. how could anybody be so perfect-looking? it was just simply unfair! even with his ice burn scar and somewhat sparse left eyebrow growth, it didn’t change a thing in your eyes.

shouto feels his heart flutter at your words, and his grin stretches to be almost uncharacteristically wide as his hands shift lower on your hips, closer to your upper thighs, and his thumbs begin rubbing tender circles against the plush flesh there.

“i — love you more,” he whispers back. the words sound shy coming from him, but you can tell he means his words. you may have fallen first, but shouto fell harder. his smile softens a bit as his hands move up to cup your cheeks tenderly before pressing another kiss to your painted lips. god. he truly could not believe how lucky he was to have you — you, who brought him out of his shell back in highschool, you who showed him love can be tender and soft, you who taught him how to let love into his heart.

now, it was shouto’s turn to show you just how much he loved you.

sliding his tongue over the seam of your lips, he lets out a soft hum as he grips your thighs before sliding his hands slowly upwards and up under the t-shirt you wore—it was his, actually!—and over your bare ribcage. you can’t help the goosebumps that broke out over your skin at the feeling of his calloused hands against your much softer flesh, nor the chill that runs down your spine and causes your nipples to stiffen under the thin fabric—especially with the way he begins to palm and grope at your tits.

“mmnh,” you hum at the temperature difference of his rough hands, and let out a soft moan when it increases drastically all of a sudden, your right nipple freezing cold and the left a little too hot for comfort—even your body was unsure of how to react to such a feeling, but it sure does send a throb down to your clit, and you can feel a damp spot begin to form in the seat of your panties, which is all you happened to be wearing under your stolen shirt.

“shouto, please,” you whine, squirming around on his lap, and dragging your thinly clothed cunt over the erection in his stupid grey sweatpants that always drove you crazy.

“please what, love?” he asks, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“god…. just— fuck me,” is all your able to get out, but, lucky for you, your husband has something even better in mind than just that. sure, he couldn’t wait to get his dick wet—to feel the way your cunt wraps around his sensitive tip—god, he can feel himself leak pre-cum like he’s some excited teenager again, and he groans at the nature of your request.

“mm, …not yet,” he smirks, and, before he’s even processed what he himself is doing, he had already licked an embarrassingly hot stripe up the length of your neck.

“shouto!” you squeal. “what was that for?!”

“felt like it,” he replies simply before attaching his full lips to your neck once more, where he began nipping and nibbling at all your most tender spots, before he finds your sweet spot and bites down particularly hard and begins suckling against the skin there, determined to leave a mark of sorts. now, while shouto was not one to leave marks in obvious places—he was perfectly content with marking you in places only he could see—he just couldn't help himself for some reason..! maybe it was because he was feeling rather bold at the moment, or because he couldn't get enough of the sweet, quiet noises you were making as he nipped and sucked at your flesh until you were sure the skin was raw.

“sho—” you can’t help but wiggle in his lap, cunt grazing over his erection. when he groans at your actions, you repeat your actions, rolling your hips down against his as he marks your neck up in pretty blue and purple and reddish hues.

suddenly, an idea pops into your mind, and you find yourself melting off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs, eager hands reaching to unbuckle his leather belt and pull it off of him.

“wh–what’re you doing, baby?” shouto finds himself breathless with a flushed face as you begin to unbutton his pants and tug down the zipper, exposing his all-too-tight black boxers and the wet spot that had formed on them. you only grin and lick your lips at the sight, of course, eager to get your husband’s perfect cock in your mouth.

“what’s it look ‘m doin’, huh?” you look up at him with big wet eyes and pouty red lips. “now lift your hips f’me,” you instruct him, and he does as told, so you can tug his pants and boxers down in one swift go.

shouto hisses as his sensitive tip comes into contact with the cool air of the bedroom, and he looks down at you a little embarrassedly, biting as lower lip as you kissed his swollen and flushed head before taking it slowly into your mouth.

“ah–!” your husband moans as you suckle around his mushroom-headed tip and he can’t help the way one large hand falls down to rest on top of your head, long fingers burying themselves into your hair as he begins to set a moderate pace for you to bob your head. unfortunately, poor shouto still had trouble controlling his reactions whenever you gave him head — your mouth and tongue were simply too skilled for your own good! for his own good!

tilting his head back to look at the ceiling instead of you, in an attempt to not bust too early, he catches a glimpse of the lewd sight in the mirror and—oh god. his dick fucking twitches and he feels an embarrassing amount of pre-cum leak from his sticky tip and into your hot mouth.

“jesus christ—fuck,” your husband groans—it wasn’t too often that he swore, only when he was especially mad, passionate, or, in this case, especially horny. “take it easy, honey—please,” he whines, hand gripping your hair tighter, forcing your head further down his thick length despite his contradictory words. you pay his actions no mind, however, only doing your best to suppress your gag reflex and hollow your cheeks out around him before swallowing thickly; you even went as far as to deepthroat him all the way, uncaring of the way drool seeped past your lips and all around the base of his cock. swallowing around him again once his leaky tip hits the back of your throat, and shouto’s hand grips your hair a little too tightly—not that you minded in the moment. if anything, it made your pussy throb. as did the way he was panting and moaning softly above you. god…… his little noises were absolutely divine and each and every one sent a jolt to your clit.

much to his embarrassment, shouto is surprisingly noisy in bed — not exactly loud per se, but certainly unable to contain all his little huffs, puffs, and soft moans and quiet groans. but it wasn’t like it was his fault! how exactly was he supposed to stay quiet when you’re making him feel so damn good? jesus, it wasn’t fair! for him, anyway; for you, his sweet sounds only made you all the more hot and bothered.

his gaze falls down to meet yours, and then further down to his dick and the way your glossy lips wrapped around it and the fucking lipstick stains you were leaving around him. how was he meant to last like this? (here’s a hint: he wasn’t!)

pushing against his hand for a moment, he lessens his grip as you pull off him with a sickening schliiickk noise and wrap one hand around his base as you pant for air, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

“shouto?”

“yeah?” his heart is pounding and he bites his lip as he looks down at your flushed face that now had a thin sheen of sweat over it, and he feels almost ashamed for the way he immediately craves your mouth back around him.

“i want you to cum in my mouth, okay?” you tell him with a soft smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before taking him into your mouth once again, all the way down until your nose was flush against his mix-matched pubic hair and you had to actively breathe through your nose so you didn’t hurl. shallowly beginning to bob your head, your tongue laves over the underside of his veiny cock as the hand previously wrapped around him moves to cup his balls, fondling them softly before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“oh—sweetheart,” he moans, dick twitching violently in your mouth. “don’t stop,” he all but begs you, rolling his hips up, forcing himself further down your throat. you actually do gag at this, but are able to swallow most of your excessive drool down, only some of it spilling over and out of your mouth and onto to your husband’s dick, mixing beautifully with your lipstick stains, and poor todoroki groans at both the sight and feeling.

all it takes is a few more bobs of your head and another squeeze to his balls before they’re tightening and suddenly he’s cumming down your throat—just like you had asked him to. god, he swears you’ll be the death of him!

swallowing around his awfully sensitive length one final time, both to tease him and get his cum down, you pull off of him with another disgustingly wet noise before looking up at him oh-so-sweetly.

the hand that wasn’t still fondling his balls comes to wrap around his dick, pumping it slowly as you press a little kiss to his flushed and shiny tip, licking it playfully and swirling your tongue around it for a moment before you actually stopped teasing his cock with your mouth and just with your hand.

“baby, please—” his voice is uncharacteristically whiney and his hips buck up into your grasp. despite his natural temperature regulation due to his quirk, shouto finds his entire body feeling hot, so hot, thanks to your delicate touch. “just—ah!” he moans softly as your hand begins moving up and down his shaft slowly, moving up and up until you could place your thumb over the slit of his red and swollen head and run it over the horribly sensitive spot.

“god–damn, sweetheart—give me a moment, please,” he begs you, hips bucking upwards as his cock twitches simultaneously. shouto feels like he’s losing his mind as you pump his oversensitive length and he has to keep his eyes away from the mirror lest he nut again—no, the next time he came today, it would be inside you, his beautiful fucking spouse. “just let me breathe.” one of his large hands comes up to run through his hair and push his bangs out of his face just for them to fall right back in place once it exits his hair.

with a scoff and a roll of your eyes, you blow a puff of cold air over his cockhead and let out a playful okay.

“i guess,” you giggle, looking up at him from your spot on the floor. it’s true that your knees were starting to get a little sore, but you figured you were basically done anyway, so, naturally, you went to stand—just for shouto’s massive hands to land on your hips, up under your shirt, and turn you around so that you’re facing the mirror before tugging your panties down to your now reddened knees in one swift movement.

pulling you onto his lap, his painfully hard cock pressed into the crack of your ass, you whine and squirm in your husband’s strong grasp.

“b-baby?” you sound audibly confused and shouto can’t help but smile at your reaction as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

“shh,” he hushes you gently, one hand coming down between your legs to stop and rest on your clit.

“sho-shouto,” you can’t help but whine as he applies a slow but firm pressure to your achy bundle of nerves, gently starting to trace teasing circles over it.

“can’t i make you feel good, too?” he whispers into your ear, catching your gaze in the mirror. his heterochromatic eyes are glued to the reflection of yours and you feel a chill run down your spine as he nuzzles his nose against your neck as his middle finger dips down to your dripping slit before bringing it back up to rub against your pulsing clit.

“ah!” an airy breath escapes you and your back arches at his calloused touch. “fuck,” you hiss as he begins pressing soft kisses to the already brusing flesh of your neck and finger moves with experience over your slick button.

the first several times you two slept together, shouto was rather shy, and not particularly bold — always scared he was going to hurt you somehow or fuck up your pleasure, and then you’d want nothing to do with him; so it took a bit of instruction and teaching him what it is you do and don’t like, but shouto, ever the fast learner, quickly caught on and figured out what exactly he had to do and how he had to do it in order for you to feel good.

“that’s what i like to hear,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you, nibbling on the lobe of your ear before blowing a puff of cold air onto it. todoroki could never get enough of the noises you made — the same way you couldn’t get enough of his whimpers and whines — and would do anything in his power to elicit such sweet sounds from you.

“sh-shut up,” is all you’re able to get out, unable to think as he brings his middle finger back down to your slit and actually inserts it into you this time — fingering you in the lightest, most teasing manner possible, while he heats up his hand, his right arm wrapping around you tighter to keep you in place.

shouto just chuckles at your poor attempt at a quip as he licks a chilly stripe up the column of your neck, causing you to shiver as a devious grin stretches over your husband’s usually sweet face.

“oh, honey,” his voice is low and deep and admittedly makes your pussy clench around the single finger stuffed in it — god, you wish he’d add a second or third to actually stretch you out. and, almost as if he had read your thoughts, shouto curls his finger inside of you before pulling it out about halfway so he could slide another in until—he just stops, one finger half way in you with the tip of another barely poking at your entrance.

“sho–shouto?” you all but whine, hips wiggling futilely, wishing he’d just scissor your cunt open already!

“look in the mirror,” he commands softly. nodding hesitantly, you reluctantly look at your reflection and take in the lewdness of the scene: shouto had your legs spread out over his, keeping them open by borderline entwining your lower legs with his, with his thick ring and middle fingers positioned against your cunt, and his chin now resting on your shoulder, piercing gaze capturing your own.

as he finally begins easing his ring finger into along with the one already in there, you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, and just like that, any movement stops.

“i didn’t tell you to close your eyes,” he mutters, right hand coming up to slip under your shirt and pinch a nipple.

“ah! ‘m sorry!” your eyes immediately fly open as you try to focus your gaze on the sight in front of you as shouto’s fingers get progressively hotter the further they slip into you, and suddenly—you were burning from the inside out!

“mmh, shouto….” you whine, one hand coming up to tangle into his hair, giving it a light tug.

your husband merely ignores you as he focuses on pleasing you instead; curling his all too hot fingers at just the right angle, spreading them apart to scissor your pretty pussy, his eyes trained on your reflection and each little way you react to his touch—the way you flinch and try to close your legs, just for him to effortlessly prevent this by spreading his a little wider. god; he had learned to be a little too good at this for your own good.

“nngh—, c’mon baby, don’ be a tease,” is all you’re able to get out as your husband takes his goddamn time fingering you; this couldn’t even be considered as finger-fucking! the feeling of the calloused pads of his heated fingertips rubbing against your already hot inner walls as he pumps them slowly—your internal temperature felt like it was skyrocketing, when in reality, it was only one or two degrees higher, something shouto could easily remedy should he switch hands.

“i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re talking about, lovely,” he smiles gently, beginning to pepper kisses along your neck once more. fuck, you coudn’t stand when he played dumb like that — he had to have known what he was doing!! (and he did! that just wasn’t for you to know.) “if there’s something you want…. then you’ll have to ask for it directly, my dear,” he tells you cheekily, and you can physically feel his smile against your skin as he begins to suck against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

god! damn him!

“f-faster,” you whine, wiggling and rolling your hips against his slow moving fingers, just for shouto to pull them nearly all the way out of you. “sh–shouto! goddammit! please don’t tease me!” you plead, eyes beginning to lightly water over out of sheer frustration. tugging at his hair, you try to twist around enough to give him another kiss — just for him to avoid your lips, too!

“uh-uh,” he chides, his freezing free hand pinching one of your nipples, and you gasp louder than you would have liked to at the feeling. “watch yourself in the mirror ‘n ask nicely and you can have anything you want, princess,” shouto says softly, physically unable to stop smiling. sure, most of the time, his teasing was truly unintentional, the other half of the time (a little less than half, really, it was closer to 60/40) was completely on purpose, as hearing you whine his name or for him to touch you never failed to turn him on or bring a somewhat sadistic smile to his usually stoic face.

nodding, you refocus your attention onto the large vanity mirror, with the chair scooted far back enough so you could clearly see his fingers buried in your glistening cunt, and you physically can’t control the whimper that slips past your throat as his index and pinky fingers move to spread your slick folds apart so you could get a better view of what shouto thought was the most perfect pussy in the world—ever since you’d first had sex (despite his initial nerves), he had quickly grown addicted to the feeling of your cunt wrapped oh-so-snuggly around him.

finally, your husband finally began to finger you in earnest, crooking his fingers in such a delicious way so deep inside you—much further than your own fingers could ever reach, anyway—and suddenly you wish it was his dick filling you up, not just his fingers..! unbeknownst to you, this was both shouto’s brief way of giving his sensitive cock a rest so he could fuck you properly without creaming too early and making sure you’d get to cum twice, too.

“you’re so tense,” his voice has a saccharine lilt to it, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as he watches the way his fingers pump in and out of you, and he can feel his length twitch and drool pre as he imagines your cunt fluttering around his dick instead of his fingers.

“‘s not my fault—you’re not exactly making it easy f’me to relax,” you complain, shifting around in his grip as you give his hair a light tug.

“oh? i’m not?” his gentle smile stretches into a shit eating grin as he slides his fingers out of you entirely before bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick your slick off the digits that had been nearly knuckle-deep inside you less than a moment ago, except—he only sucks off his ring finger, leaving the middle one for you to suck on instead, bringing it up to your plump, glossy lips whilst softly telling you to open your mouth. of course, you obeyed without a second thought, happily, and almost hazily, swirling your tongue around his finger in a similar manner you had done with his cock. the action reminded shouto of such, and he lets out a quiet groan at the feeling.

“mmh,” you hum pleasantly around the digit that was pressing down lightly against your tongue. you weren’t too pleased, however, about the lack of stimulation your pussy was receiving, and you decided to make this known to your husband.

catching his eye in the mirror, you let out a little whine and wrap both your hands around his thick wrist as you purposely let the drool in your mouth build up so it begins to seep down his hand and slowly trickle onto his forearm.

“baby, please. please just fuck me,” you mumble, tugging on his wrist to pull his calloused, slick finger from you spit-soaked mouth.

shouto really was planning to finger you to an orgasm, honest, but—when you asked so sweetly, he just couldn’t say no to you!

“fuck,” he groans, both hands quickly settling onto your hips in order to lift you enough to align your soaked slit with his flushed and achy cock. “y’know i can’t tell you no when you ask like that,” he says before letting you slowly sink all the way to the base.

“you feel so good,” he groans out as your puffy pussy wraps around him tightly.

“s–so do you,” you whine out, feeling his head kiss the entrance to your cervix. jesus christ, how was it possible to hit so deep? “s-so, so good,” you tell him, trying to look at the two of you in the mirror and the way your cunt envelopes him and—it’s just too embarrassing to look at!

squirming in his grasp, you try to turn around to better face him so you could plant a kiss to his plump lips. shouto, however, simply uses one large hand to squish your cheeks and hold your face in place to watch as he lazily fucks up into in the mirror. no matter how bad he wanted to kiss you (that would have to come (cum) after you), he just enjoyed that flustered look on your face too much to not indulge in it! besides, he was always so sweet to you, he’s sure you can handle some light teasing.

“aa–ahh! sh-shouto! fuck!” you cry as he begins bouncing you up and down his needy dick. you whimper at the way he throbs inside you and your cunt clenches tightly around him—making your husband groan loudly too. “sho–!” it’s all you can do to look into the mirror at the lewd sight, and embarrassingly enough, it only serves to turn you on even more.

“hmm?” it’s all he can do to hum out a response as he keeps you moving up and down, strong arms moving with ease as he rhythmically rolls his hips up into yours. “what—” he hisses from the way his tip hits against your cervix, with nowhere left to go. “what is it, love?” he does his best to answer coherently, needing you to be the one fucked dumb first. without a second thought, one hand abandons your hip to slide down your abdomen all the way back between your legs where he began rubbing slow, tight circles against your neglected clit.

“ah! f–fuck!” you moan as he soon sets a steady pace against your throbbing bud, steadily working you up to an orgasm, the knot in your stomach tightening.

it doesn’t take much longer before you’re quivering in shouto’s grip and whining about how close you were, and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride wash over him as he pushes you closer to the edge.

as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, shouto feels himself growing uncomfortably close as well, and soon finds himself asking if it’s okay if he came inside.

“yes, please, baby,” you whine and nod your head, one hand moving to entangle itself into shouto’s hair as he finally allowed you to kiss him once again.

and, with a few more thrusts, you find yourself cumming in sync as the horribly tense knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re creaming all over your husband’s cock.

“oh fuck,” he groans, dick pulsing once, twice, before finally squirting his thick, hot seed deep into your womb, leaving you feeling both gross and contently full.

after rubbing your clit throughout the duration of your orgasm, shouto still doesn’t stop, even once you began coming down from you high, and you can’t help but jolt in his lap from the oversensitivity.

“sh-shouto, you can—you can st-stop!” you manage to spit out, biting your lower lip as you watch his calloused fingers rub steady circles against your poor clit.

“but—” he pants. “you only— only came once,” he tries to explain, rolling his hips up into you despite his own sensitivity, desperate to make you cum again.

“i– i know, but—’m sensitive, baby,” you try telling him, quickly feeling that familiar knot start to form again. “ple—please!”

despite your pathetic little mewls, your husband ignores you in favor of your excess pleasure, significantly warming up the fingers playing with your puffy clit.

it’s not long before you’re cumming one more time, evening out your total to two—equal to what you had given your oh-so-doting husband (even if you only went out of your way to actually give him a single orgasm—he just happened to cum a second time because you felt so good wrapped around him).

“fuck, baby,” you moan, back arching deeply as he slowly lessens the pressure on your throbbing clit. shouto never disappointed you in bed, or in this case, just simply in the bedroom, and for that, you were eternally grateful.

once you were done making a mess around the length of his dick, your back falls flush against his chest, and you both pant heavily for a long moment before either of you are able to recompose yourselves.

afterwards, shouto helps lift you off his softening dick, and into the bathroom so you could piss (always piss after sex, y’all), before going downstairs to get you a glass of water and then returning back to your shared bedroom to wait in your king sized bed. once you re-entered the room, your husband sits up in the plush bed, with his arms extended out to you, your water already on your nightstand.

with a smile, you make your way over to the bed, with only slightly wobbly legs, and curl up in your loving shouto’s strong arms, where he holds you close to him, resting your head against his chest, where you could hear his beating heart—a sound so soothing you were almost lulled asleep by it until you heard the quietest, faintest whisper of, “you’re so beautiful,” and you can’t help the grin that breaks out across your face as you tell him he is too, something shouto has never been too sure of how to process, but over time, as the compliments he received increased, he slowly learned how to handle and accept them properly.

“i love you,” you say in sync, and you let out a little giggle at this before saying jinx! and pressing a kiss to his cheek before nuzzling your head back against his chest and yawning deeply.

276 notes · View notes

amymbona · 3 months

Note

First time writing an ask kinda nervous….. imagine you went to the tennis academy with ArtPatrick and they never really noticed you, not really on their radar but you end up going to Stanford and befriended Tashi and they are just whipped for you idk what else to add IM SO NERVOUS

Yes yes yes that's so cute! The boys being completely smitten with reader 🥹🥹🥹 I could make a series from this cause this one's a bit short (I've no inspiration😔). Let's pretend that in this neither of the boys study at Stanford and Patrick isn't dating Tashi.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

To begin the story simply, tennis is the main focus of your life. Or at least used to be, until you hit puberty. With hormones running through your body, up and down from head to toe, and your periods happening each month, you started noticing significant changes not only in your physique but your mentality too. Suddenly, boys were all you think about.

While slowly building your teenage career and attending the academy, you kept your eyes on boys around you, subconsciously searching for a partner. And you considered yourself pretty normal. Not many thoughts about sex, at least not the hardcore version of it, just hoping for a nice monogamous relationship with a guy who'd love and support you unconditionally. Until you met Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson.

Aside from your crush on Brad Pitt as Achilles, you were never really smitten with boys before, so your poor brain froze the moment you entered the court and a mix of two muscular - for their age - moans reached your ears. There they were. The brunet one was taller, a mess of curly hair sticking to his forehead, and he was a bit more expressive too. Most of the groans were from his mouth, face grimacing as he chased the ball, limbs long. Next to him, on the court, was a guy who's blond hair was hidden under a cap, but you caught a glimpse of his big nose. This one, was a bit more muscular, eyes creased in concentration.

It's safe to say that you became obsessed with them, figuring out their schedule to be on the court exactly at the same time. It wasn't really your thing before, but you began tucking your skirts a bit higher so they could possibly catch a glimpse of your ass, and make sure to groan loud enough when you hit the ball. Every so often, your eyes would trail towards the two, eager to see if they are watching you, only to end up disappointed if you find them immersed in a deep conversation.

It shattered your poor teenage ego, especially when you decided to greet them - reminding yourself that tennis players all know one another so it won't be that awkward - only to end up with a light wave from Art in response. Honestly, you were devastated.

Now, one year into Stanford, you've managed to successfully push the two towards the most dark depths of your mind, focusing back on tennis. You are grateful to have befriended a fellow player - Tashi Duncan - who has become something close to a best friend. You hadn't really heard of her before, perhaps once or twice on the sport's channel news, but she has proven as an incredibly complex person. For her age, she is far above average, dominating every match, but her soul is delicate enough to flow in sync with yours.

The two of you are dorm mates, spend a lot of time together and have found much needed calmness in the presence of one another, a friendship one could really ask for. Doing the talk, you've learnt about Tashi's family, hobbies and friends - two of which, she has mentioned, were named Art and Patrick. Rings a bell?

And definitely rings a bell, if not even slaps you across the face, when you come back to your dorm after practice, eager for a shower and a good afternoon's rest, only to find two boys occupying your two beds. And Tashi's nowhere.

"Oh, hi," the blond guy is the first to break the awkward silence, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "We didn't know you were coming. We, um- we're waiting here for Tashi."

You nod, eyes trailing between the two boys, each of them gazing you up and down. And suddenly, you become too aware of your attire - a really mini *mini* skirt and a light sports bra, your top stuffed somewhere in your sports bag that you've dropped by the door - and it's easy to see the boys aren't trying to hide their excitement.

"Well, she's still at practice so..." you mutter, crossing arms over your chest to somehow hide whatever the boys are looking at.

"Should we go?" Art proposes, finger pointing at the door.

"No, no, you can wait here. I'm just gonna shower so I can't really entertain you." you offer the boys a small smile and quickly fish some clothes out of the wardrobe and disappear in the bathroom.

The boys exchange a glance, mouths parted and eyes wide. Damn. It's been a long time since they've seen a girl this pretty! Your flushed cheeks and plump lips are all engraved in their minds, the sight of you in so little clothes hard to erase. God, your cleavage was so full, almost spilling out of that bra, that Patrick desperately wished the fabric would magically burst and he's ve granted with the clear view of your tits.

You reenter the dorm in a fresh set of clothes, combed hair flowing down your back and the boys' eyes are on you again, small, playful smirks on their faces. You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy and the way your voice threatens to quiver as you approach your own bed, currently occupied by Patrick.

"Do you mind?"

"No, no, enough space for both of us," he replies nonchalantly, patting the space next to him, but that smug smile on his face is hard to miss.

Your eyes roll, arms crossing. He knows damn well that's not what you meant. "Just move."

Patrick grins, raising his arms in mock defense and reluctantly pushes up from his spot only when Art commands him with a soft c'mon Pat, allowing you to plop down.

For a long while, now both settled on Tashi's bed, the boys study you, taking notice of the way your sweater clings to your skin, the way your bare feet tap against the floor nervously and how you're trying to look all calm and indifferent, picking up a random book from the nightstand to demonstrate so. But Patrick breaks the silence.

"So, who're you?"

The question surprises you and perhaps hurts a bit, as you realise the boys have completely forgotten your face, despite seeing it for years in the academy. Perhaps you hoped they would remember you.

"Tashi's roommate... Y/N." you add when they raise a brow.

"Y/N." the name rolls off of Art's tongue sweetly as he repeats it. He likes how it sounds, it's simple but very flirting, as if your face was meant to hold such a name.

Patrick, meanwhile, imagines himself screaming that name. Not only that, his mind is filled with various scenarios where you are the main character.

The boys introduce themselves, not that it's needed for you, and for a moment, you're almost tempted to remind them that you actually know each other. "Yeah, I know you."

"You do?" Patrick asks, raising a brow, almost too excited.

Fuck. But you can't just tell them how much of a crush you had on both of the boys back in the academy, how many days and nights you spent thinking about them, imagining that'd be thinking about you too, imagining all the possible moments you three could have spent together.

"Um, yeah, from the... From Tashi." you stumble over your words. "She's mentioned you before a couple of times."

The boys nod, looking you all over, examining every single of your tiny mannerisms that are on display, the way you nervously scratch the back of your neck and chew onto your lower lip. Fuck. You're so cute in their eyes, they could watch you forever.

A slightly awkward silence settles over the room, and the more intense their gazes become, the more nervous you are. God damn, where the hell is Tashi when you need her the most? If you'll be forced to stay alone with Art and Patrick for one more minute, you're probably gonna go crazy and say something incredibly stupid or just jump in one of their laps and begin kissing them.

Like a miracle, a much needed knight in shining armor, Tashi shows up. She greets her friends, introduces you three once again before finally taking the boys out. Like they're on a leash, the boys follow her without a single protest, but before they leave the dorm, two sly smirks are shot in your direction. What you don't hear, after the door closes, is the boys smothering Tashi in questions about you.

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princessbrunette · 8 months

Note

i was thinking this more for rafe than jj but I feel like it could work for both...

I can't stop thinking about frat!rafe/jj forcing you to give him the notes from class everyday and then one day you tell him no unless he gives you smth 😵‍💫

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

oh this is hot because you can literally never tell if he’s bullying you or flirting with you? and the way he teeters on the edge of both is sadly just too addictive for you to shut him down fully.

he leans over to you in your seminar, backwards cap, colourful polo— the works. it was sickening really, you had no idea why you were attracted to him. okay, you had some idea. he was gorgeous, facially — and tall, strong, probably packing like crazy. he wasn’t the most obscure character in your life to be interested in, just out of your usual tastes.

“hey… you got the notes? i uh, didn’t have time to study.” he gapes at you fairly innocently, gum tucked beneath his back teeth. by didn’t have time, it’s obvious he meant didn’t even attempt to study.

you say nothing, sliding your pink notebook over with no arguments. maybe it was the natural submissive in you.

“shiiiiiit,” his lip quirks up in a smirk as he eyes the neat and tidy organisation of your pages. “you’re really locked into this shit, huh?” he whispers, and your eyes flicker to the professor, hoping he didn’t notice you slacking off.

“well i know you usually need notes so… i just make it presentable so you can actually read it.” you shrug, and it only hits you how pathetic it was until it’s left your mouth. his brows jump up, eyes meeting yours again and his mouth opens, still smiling.

“really?” he asks but it’s more of a statement. “well that’s uh, that’s real sweet of you. thank you. shit, what’s your name again?”

the moments gone.

he continues his usual routine of begging notes off you after that, and you do so without any complaint. it’s starting to get on your nerves though, not quite clicking in your brain that rafe cameron is actually, annoyingly very academically gifted. he could store knowledge like it was nothing, and never flunked a test. he asked you for your notes each seminar because he didn’t know how to talk to shy girls, but he wanted to talk to you.

you lose your patience with his carelessness towards the module you’re studying, and totally ignore him for once. it was hard, and you could feel his slightly irritated confusion from beside you— following you quickly out of the class at the end of it.

“hey, wait up. did i— did i do something i thought we had a thing goin’ with the notes? can you stop and talk to me?” he emphasises, stopping in his tracks when you turn around right in front of him.

“you know it’s not that fun being used.” you accuse, more firey than you intended.

“wh— used?” he lets free an infuriating chuckle, itching his nose, a nervous tick unbeknownst to you.

“yeah. you come to the seminar each week unprepared and i have to do all of the work for the both of us for nothing in return.” you huff petulantly and unexpectedly his heart skips a beat, actually liking this riled up side to you. poor thing just wanted attention.

“well,” he scoffs wordlessly, looking around with his arms up. “i’m sorry, okay? what— here, what do you want from me? i got you.” he steps up seriously, and god— you’re clearly thinking with your pussy because without a second thought your eyes briefly drop down. not just downward, but specifically on his crotch before guiltily up to his gaze once more. he smirks, eyes widening a touch. “oh, shit? alright then.” he chuckles and you feel yourself heat up.

“w—well, well wait i—”

“n’here i am, like an idiot, thinking you’re shy.” he steps closer, lowering his voice in the now mostly empty hallway outside of your seminar hall. “you know, i— i think i can work something out for you.”

it’s not the arrangement he was expecting with a shy girl like you. he had it planned in his head, just charm you enough until he runs into you outside of class and find his way into your panties, telling you that it was okay, and that he just wanted to thank you for helpin’ him out so much.

instead, he had you knocking on his dorm door, clearly having had a long day, which occurred around two to three times a week in these occurrences — telling him that you’re stressed, and if he’s gonna use you, you really — really needed to use him.

which is how you’d end up sucking him inside you, whining and practically crying as you fuck on him like a personalised dildo, letting him work the stress out of your body with large and coarse hands. he supposed it was true what they said in all those corny college movies, the nerds really are freakier.

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

#anon #fratboy!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month

Note

okey dokey, I've had *a day* and will use this glorious...🥴 idek which body part to reference 😮‍💨...and merge it with your previous ask about cooking or baking for Steve and giving him a nice, comforting, home cooked meal. And his response to that act of service and caring. Because this is me, I will obviously be starting with ::gasp:: an argument. Don't you love how predictable I am?!?!

To Tire Is Human

No warnings, uhhh, canon language (sh*t)? Written in drafts so no exact word count. It's not long (2k maybe, very much unedited)!

"The hustle? What does that even mean?" Steve gripes as he finishes up various chores around the property.

"It means I do the work."

Your boyfriend rips apart the wood log he was about to start chopping. "Do the work? Do the work? For nine hours? After leaving home early enough to be at work for an hour before the actual work starts? Then staying at least a half hour to clean?"

"Unless I also have to restock," you add quickly just to really turn the knife.

"You have got to be shitting me," he nearly snarls, eyes down toward the pile.

You don't blame him for not understanding. He's from an era where people worked to live, the point was the living. This...is not longer that era, and you are not of that generation.

Of course, it frustrates him, too, because your work makes living almost impossible. With all that he just mentioned, the commute, and attempting to offer yourself the basic self-care of eating and washing, you don't have the energy to do chores, and you've certainly struggled to find energy enough to show Steve love.

"That's the gig nowadays. That's how us super-average humans do it."

The thing is that you are also so tired of having this conversation. You are tired of the guilt for not magically considering yourself the center of your universe because, despite jokes about every kid receiving participation trophies, it is deeply engrained in you that you are replaceable.

If you don't perform above and beyond, fired. If you ask for too much and offer too little, gone. If you don't constantly learn how to outpace others, useless. It never ends.

And, finally, Steve Rogers might not get this but you age. You aren't powerful to begin with, but day after day, you get weaker and older, while someone else on Earth gets smarter and stronger.

You don't want to hear the spiel. You can see from his pinched face that Steve wants to give the spiel.

You sigh in exhaustion and prepare to hear the whole Cap speech before you two go pick up dinner in town.

One day later that week, your work schedule falls apart and lands you back at home hours before Steve is due to return. Antsy to accomplish something--and looking for a snack,--you notice the perfect combination of ingredients, something saucy and salty, hearty, just like Steve melts for, and a fruity baked good.

It's a lot of steps, there's a lot of mess to clean up as you go, and then there's still a lot left behind. You're hastily rushing around to set the oven timer and yank a skillet off the burner. Perhaps the whole endeavor has gotten you in over your head.

Steve appears out of nowhere.

Well. Not nowhere, but all the chaos in the kitchen is making enough noise, you didn't hear the door.

"I have everything under control," you automatically say.

His expression morphs from one of surprise and concern to utterly overwhelmed. His eyes look glassy as he approaches and scoops you into a quick hug, hands tucking themselves beneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin as he breathes you in.

He quickly releases you at the sounds of oil popping and sniffs, reverting to Cap mode.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

All you can think is that the table hasn't been set.

Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours.

He had one of your days.

He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give...

...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you.

You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.

An hour ago, he wasn't sure he could feed himself or wash up. He's simply too tired.

You start playing with his hand, drawing patterns in his palm, lightly dragging your nails on the sensitive inside of his wrist. It makes him shiver.

There were at least four things he was supposed to do outside before it got too dark, a load of towels and sheets needs done, a basket of clothes waits to be folded and put away. He does not want to do any of it.

His fingers close around yours.

"Thank you," he interjects softly, "I was so tired."

You lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "you wanna leave the dishes to soak and watch a movie instead?"

Steve chuckles, turns his head to quickly kiss your lips, and nuzzles his nose to yours.

"Oh, you're a naughty minx, aren't you?"

Playfully racing up the stairs, ignoring the plates and glasses still on the table, you call back to him.

"Show some hustle, big guy! We got a whole lot of nothing to do."

He twitches, just for an instant, before finally deciding that grabbing the spare pillows from the guest room will add more to the movie experience than doing the dishes.

You're both going to do the work tonight: the work of taking care of each other, enjoying each other, and being human together.

Thank you for asking!

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

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Does someone older JK spoil the OC sometimes? Like surprise her with something which he considerd to be nothing it would mean so much to her?

Oh he does, ALL the time! Warnings for a bit of angst, beginnings of a panic attack but Kook handles it well

"...we can go there again, maybe before new year's if I can get a table on short notice." He simply says as he drives you both back to his place, radio playing quietly in the background.

You're still a little overwhelmed.

He does things like this a lot- expensive dinner dates in restaurants he either knows or wants to try out, randomly buying you clothes or jewelry he finds online and deems pretty, or he just changes things in his house to adjust it more towards you and your preferences. Like the pillows in his bedroom, the by now multiple pairs of thick socks for your cold feet, or the baking supplies he bought for you now stacking up in his kitchen.

It's things like that you're not used to. In the past, it has always been you who needed to adjust and do things for your partner- not the other way around. So now, you feel almost guilty whenever he does something- like a bank account draining, slowly going further and further into the negatives, red numbers piling up and making you anxious as to when he'll want it all payed back.

"Did you not like it?" He wonders, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort as he pulls up on the expressway. "You don't have to lie." He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.

"No, it's not that." You deny, letting him warm up your cold fingers. "It's just.. it was a little expensive, no?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"Was it? To be honest, I don't think it was considering what we ate." He just brushes off. "I've been to steak restaurants that were a lot more expensive and half the quality. And the service was great too, so I didn't mind." Jungkook explains, and it's now that you realize once again that you and him live in quite different worlds. Or at least, used to.

For him, money isn't an issue. He's made and is making enough of it to live comfortably, he doesn't have to really worry about running out of it anytime soon, even if his company was to go bankrupt next week. And he's also got enough saved up, has invested with good tactics in mind, so it's really no wonder he doesn't see a problem in spending the amount that he does.

But you aren't used to that. You have been living paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left over at the end of the month, needing your bonus desperately as to not fall behind on any payments you have to make regularly. You've lost your apartment before, had to sleep at friend's places to get by, and even ate only at the company cafeteria to save money usually spent on groceries. All of this feels almost excessive, and you also worry.

What if Jungkook starts spending too much on you? He shouldn't fall into a habit of mindlessly throwing money out.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He wonders, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, before he changes lanes.

"I just.." you fidget a little. Jungkook isn't a bad guy. He won't get mad. He won't scold you. You won't have to endure being lectured for the rest of the ride- you know all this, and yet again, the past haunts you and makes your breathing pick up as you begin to chew on your lip.

Suddenly, you realize he's pulling up to a gas station, parking on the side. He gets out to get something from the backseat, before he walks around the car to open the passenger door where you sit, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Here." he offers the bottle of water, having opened the cap for you. "Put your legs out like that- there we go. Breathe baby." He gently tells you, squatting down a bit to make himself look smaller. "Take your time."

You feel embarrassed. How do you explain to him that you were feeling like a kid about to confess a bad grade just now?

"We can keep it a one-in-a-month thing, maybe, if that makes you more comfortable." He proposes. "I didn't take into account that it might be overwhelming to you- I'm sorry." He apologizes, but you shake your head, looking down at your knees.

"I just.." You mumble, unsure how to really explain. "I feel.. back then, you know.." You sigh, having trouble finding the proper words. "Talking in the car makes me.. anxious." You admit. "Because you know, when you get mad.. I can't escape.." You say. "I can't get away from it."

Jungkook kindly takes the bottle away from you to put it on the backseat again, before he's back in front of you.

"Thanks for telling me. I had an idea it might be that, but I wasn't sure." Jungkook says, hands on your knees. "I promise you I'm not mad. And I'm in no position to be mad at you for having opinions or personal taste that might differs from mine. We're two different people-" He chuckles. "-of course we'll have different views on things."

"But I really liked the dinner too." You say. "I just.. I don't want you to start.. spending so much money on me to the point of, I don't know, losing sight of it." You confess. "And maybe, we should keep stuff like this a bit rare? So it doesn't become routine. I want to keep it special.." You say. "I'm not.. I don't really know much about this stuff, because I never had enough money to go to these fancy places, and get designer clothes, or plan vacations in different countries and all that. I feel.. stupid sometimes?" You spill, making him lean his head a bit to the side. "Like, what if you one day take me to a company gathering or something, and someone asks me something and I can't answer or I say something dumb-" You rant. "-or maybe you won't ever take me because I'm too young? Maybe Eve is right and I'm not really the kind of-"

"Baby, darling, stop-" He chuckles, pushing your shoulders back a bit to look at him. "-take a good breath. You're panicking." He worries a little, but tries hard to stay composed as to not make you spiral any further. "Eve is wrong. If you're okay with this, of course I'll take you to company events. Why wouldn't I show off such a beautiful women at my side? I'd never pass up a chance to make those stuck up geezers jealous." He jokes, making your crack up a little. "Let's keep the dinners to special occasions. Keep it special, like you said." He offers, holding your hands now. "And I'm also.. the fact that you worry about me makes me feel.. very special." he chuckles. "I appreciate you looking out for me."

"I always look out for you.." You mumble. "..I just don't want to overstep any lines. You know. Since you're older than me-"

"Just because I'm older doesn't automatically mean that I know everything better." He reassures you. "Our age gap has nothing to do with any sort of power balance. Please don't think you can't speak your mind just because I was born earlier than you."

"..okay." You nod, and he leans forward to peck your lips, before he closes the door for you after you pull your legs back in and buckle your seatbelt, him getting back into the driver's seat to do the same.

"You know.." he starts, as he pulls out of the gas station to continue the drive back home. "..I'm really falling in love with you." He chuckles, dimples of his cheeks showing with how hard he smiles.

"Huh?" You wonder, taken aback by the sudden confession.

"I mean it." He nods. "I really am."

"I'm glad then." You admit. "..cause I am too." You admit, making him grin before he reaches over to hold your hand again.

Knowing that he really won't ever let you go again.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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taesanrot · 8 months

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[found you] sungchan x f!reader | 0.7k words fluff, a little angst but not really, brother's best friend!sungchan, mutual pining, college au kinda... note. reader is eunseok's younger sister and a sophomore not sure if that was too clear. hope u guys enjoy! one two three

you crossed your arms loosely and began the short walk to your apartment. checking your phone, you see a couple texts from your friends, asking how your dinner date had gone. you sighed.

sungmin was sweet; he was cute and respectful and he should’ve been everything you wanted. but somehow, you felt nothing with him. your friends, the same ones who had set the two of you up, convinced you to give it time, but after your second date you ended things, smiling at him softly and telling him you didn’t think it would be a great idea for the two of you to keep seeing each other. he almost begged you to let him walk you home; it was starting to get dark. but you honestly just wanted to get away from him and stop rubbing salt on the wound. so here you were, walking to your campus apartment in a comfortable silence, staring at the ground and filing through your own thoughts.

that silence didn’t last too long as you heard someone call your name confusedly. “y/n?”

you looked up and squinted, barely registering the tall figure that had called out to you. they jogged towards you and you sighed in relief as your eyes focused on the mystery figure's face. jung sungchan. 3rd year student also attending your uni. your brother’s best friend and roommate. and unfortunately, the reason you even went out tonight. he was the person you wished so desperately that your heart would forget.

“hi sungchan.” you managed a weak smile. you could barely look him in the eyes, you face felt like it was on fire every time you looked at him. you felt your pulse jump as he looked you up and down, eyeing your outfit. “going somewhere?” he tried his best to fake surprise. he already knew exactly what your plans were — eunseok had mentioned it earlier that day.

“y/n’s seeing that guy again.” eunseok rolled his eyes after checking his phone. he didn’t understand why you were suddenly going on dates. "i thought he was boring?" seunghan, their third roommate replied, looking up from his cereal.

sungchan walked past the two boys and opened the fridge, grabbing a protein shake. he turned and leant against the countertop, twisting the cap of his drink open. “huh? what guy?.” sungchan tried to sound as unbothered as possible. he wasn't doing a great job at it. eunseok raised an eyebrow at the taller boy. seunghan bit back a laugh.

“some senior yunjin set her up with. park sungmin…. you know him?” eunseok smirked, pretending not to notice the way sungchan’s jaw tightened slightly. "i'm going to the gym" sungchan huffed out as he finished the last sips of his drink, crumpling the bottle with more force than necessary before tossing it.

you looked down at your skirt and blouse, laughing dejectedly. "yeah, dinner actually. i'm on my way home now." although he was over the moon to hear that things with you and sungmin were clearly going nowhere, his eyes softened at the sadness in your voice. "didn't go well?"

"not really, i just wasn't into it, ended things tonight." you looked down, toying with the end of your sleeve. he grimaced. "is that why you're walking back alone?" you nodded. he scanned the area around the two of you. "you could've called me, you shouldn't walk alone so late"

you chuckled softly. "it's okay, i'm a big girl. i can make a five minute walk alone." he broke into a smile and you swear you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. he checked his phone quickly before looking back at you.

"well, me and guys were gonna watch a movie at our place tonight, wanna come along? seems like you could use some company."

you bit your lip in contemplation. you honestly thought spending more time with the one person you were avoiding was a terrible idea. but you also couldn't bear the thought of being alone in your apartment. what's the worst that could happen anyways?

"sure. are you heading there now?" sungchan smiled happily at your answer. "i was gonna pick up some snacks first, there's a convenience store around the corner."

"let's go."

[bonus]

as the front door shut and the tall boy left the apartment, seunghan looked up at eunseok again, chewing the remainder of his cereal. "doesn't it bother you?" eunseok finally let out a laugh. "that he likes my sister? no, i think it's pretty funny, maybe he'll do something about it for once." eunseok's phone chimed with a message from yunjin, a response to him asking where his sister was going tonight. "plus... i'm pretty sure she likes him back."

#jung sungchan #sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan fic #sungchan fluff #sungchan angst #sungchan smut #riize fluff #riize fics #riize angst

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cherthegoddess · 8 months

Note

Request for an Evan Buckley imagine: y/n is also a firefighter at the 118, but she gets trapped in a fire while the building is partly collapsing and the 118 has to go in to save her 😎

Burning Love

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: This was written with a black reader in mind but anyone can read it!

Word Count: 1.1k+

Burning Love

“Nothing like a factory fire to start the day,” Y/n said with a grin to Buck. “Yeah as long as you don’t do anything reckless.” Hen laughs loudly at his remark. “That’s funny coming from you Buckaroo.” Y/n shot back sticking out her tongue. Both Y/n and Buck were known to pull the heroics not caring if they got hurt in the end. Y/n more so after her near-death experience during an earthquake.

The crackles and snaps could be heard as they pulled into the scene. Cap began barking out orders quickly as he assessed the fire. A hand sanitizer factory sparked a fire that was quickly going up in flames. The sprinklers jammed. Workers, along with other stations, are firefighters walking out from the burning building. “Hen! Chimney! Head on over to the workers! See what the other paramedics need help with. Buck! Y/n! See if there are any more workers inside. Eddie! Let’s try to get this fire tamed! And try to see why these sprinklers aren’t working.” The crew quickly got to work moving into the spaces that they were told by Bobby. Buck and Y/n make their way to the blazing inferno to look at where they could enter. One of Station 124 firefighters walked past with a person coughing on their arm. “There’s a few more people inside!” The firefighter yelled. Y/n and Buck nod, making their way inside gear strapped securely to them.

The room was covered in flames. There was not much that the fire did not touch. Luckily the hand sanitizer was one of them. “Let’s find these people and get outta here before these flames get worse.” Buck yelled over to Y/n She nodded and started moving, “Is anyone in here?!” They moved further into the building. “Over here! We’re over here!” Behind a couple of boxes lay a man and a woman. The woman was trapped under a pillar, clearly with a broken leg at the least. The chalky flames made their face covered in ash. The man tried his best to pull the pillar up, but he was unsuccessful. “What’s your name?” Y/n called out as both Buck and her ran over. “I’m Max and this is Saddie. Please help us, I’ve been trying to get this beam off of her but I can’t.” They quickly got into action, pushing the beam up not before making sure there wasn’t any other damage. They pulled Saddie’s body out, Buck allowing her to grab his shoulders. “Is there anyone else in this building?” The two shook their heads no. Max could walk so they made their way to the exit. Something caught Y/n’s eye and without Buck noticing she went to go see if there was someone else. Sure enough, there lay a woman trapped in what looked like some sort of machinery. Y/n clicked her walkie, “Guys I’m gonna be out soon. I found one more woman!” There was a pause before a response. “Y/n you were supposed to be evacuated with Buck,” Cap said sternly. “Sorry Cap! I promise I’ll be out soon.” Y/n starts working to feel the woman’s pulse. It was steady even in her unconscious state. She begins pushing the machinery off of the woman, but the woman starts to wake up and in pain. “Ma’am, I promise I’m going to get you out from under there.” The woman groans. Once the pieces were completely off of the woman, Y/n did her best to keep her up and started walking towards the exit. “Okay, Cap I’m on my way out!” She spoke too soon as the fire got stronger and catching some of the hand sanitizers lighting them up as well. “Cap, we may have a problem. The hand sanitizers caught flame and I don’t think we can get outta here. What’s the eta on the sprinklers?” The woman began to cough. “Y/n, I thought I told you not to play hero.” It was Buck this time. He wasn’t his usual goofy self this time either. He was clearly upset and worried about her. “You should know me by now Buck, I don’t listen. That’s beside the point, the sprinklers?” The flames get stronger. “We’re still trying to get them going. In the meantime try to find an alternate way out.” Bobby responds. Y/n looks around, there are just too many flames. The woman’s condition slowly starts to worsen as the smoke gets stronger.

On the outside, Buck was pacing, waiting for someone to figure out how they could help Y/n. “Bobby, just let me go in! I need to help her.” Bobby looked sternly at Buck. “Buck, I know how you feel about her but I also know her. She’s a fighter.” Buck glares. He’s in love with her, has been for a while and he knew she was the one as soon as she walked into the station. Buck couldn’t lose her without her knowing that.

Y/n back on the inside started to make a way out after finding a fire extinguisher nearby and putting it to work. The woman is slightly better, walking on her own. “Okay ma’am, I think we made a clear enough path that we can walk through.” The woman limps lightly over grabbing onto Y/n to walk steadily. “We’re getting out of here.”

Buck works with Eddie to fix the sprinklers since at every turn Cap stops him from going in. They just about had it when an explosion rang out. Buck and Eddie rushed over to see if Y/n was there and she wasn’t. Buck starts to tear up, mouth agape. “No, no, no” Eddie brings Buck into a bear hug as he cries. “Wait, Buck, look!” Eddie pulls him to turn around. And there she is, Y/n walking with the woman. And the sprinkler starts finally going off. Hen and Chimney rush to the two to check to see if they are okay. The woman gets taken away by Hen and Chimney. “Thanks, guys,” Y/n said as Hen tapped her on her back. “Glad you’re alive, kid.” Buck watched from a distance, in shock that she was alive. Y/n walks over to Buck with a smile. “I know you said not to do anything reckless, but you know I can’t help it. Besides, you know I always come back-” Her voice was covered with a kiss. His hands went straight for her cheeks. He slightly pulls away to apologize but she pulls him back in deepening it, her gloved hands gripping the ends of his hair. Chim and Hen whoop in the background and Bobby smiles at the scene. When they finally pull apart, they grin at each other. “Took you long enough Buckaroo. Been waiting a whole 6 months for that.” Buck laughs, I promise I’ll make up for all that I missed, but first a date.” Y/n nods and smiles pecking his lips again. “Chim you owe me 30,” Hen says with her hand out.

Soooo I kinda didn't do the last part but we love a woman who can save herself! I hope you like it even with the slight change! But please send more requests!

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#x reader #black!reader #reader #evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #911 fanfic #911 x reader #911 fox #911 #eddie x reader #station 118 #eddie diaz

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libraryofgage · 11 months

Text

PJO Steddie Part Three

Part One | Part Two

I hope y'all are ready for some backstory in this bitch hfdjsk

Anyway, we learn some more godly parents, but one remains a mystery for now.

Also, if you like my writing, maybe consider commissioning me! I have, like, student loans hitting harder than I'd like, so I've opened commissions on ko-fi. You can read more about prices and such in this post.

Anyway, hope you have fun reading! And, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Getting to Athens, Tennessee, had required a mix of bus rides, a single divine taxi ride, and a pair of knock-off winged shoes that Eddie should probably put out of their misery before they get him killed. Getting back to camp, thankfully, only requires the van Steve and the kids use to get around.

Said van, at first glance, looks like a hunk of junk. It seems to have stepped right out of the 80s, its paint is faded and scratched with dents in more than a few spots, and the wheels look about two tiny potholes from popping. As they get closer, Steve pulls a key ring from his pocket, and Eddie notices that it's a physical key and not one of the wireless fobs.

When they get inside, though, the whole van is transformed. The seats are made of the softest leather Eddie has ever felt, there are seven in the back for all the kids to be comfortable without arguing about space, and the sheer number of cup holders is enough to bring Eddie near tears. "This is fucking metal," Eddie says, practically melting into the passenger seat as the kids buckle up in the back and Steve starts the van.

"I got it after we outgrew my BMW," Steve says, shrugging as he checks on the kids and Eddie before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Steve says it's a surprise gift from our father," El pipes up from the back.

"Yeah," Dustin says, his voice excited as he leans forward and pokes his head between Steve and Eddie, "Cuz he doesn't know he bought it!"

Steve snorts and pushes down the bill of Dustin's cap as he heads towards the highway.

"So, is Zeus your dad, too?" Eddie asks, twisting around to look at El.

"No. Steve and I share a human father," El explains.

Even without looking, Steve can feel Eddie's confusion. "I try not to think about how I came into being," he says. "Just know our father seems to be a bit of a slut for Greek mythological figures."

"Wait," Eddie says, waving his hand, "does that mean Zeus was, like, a woman? Is Zeus your mother?"

"No clue. Like I said, I prefer not to think about it," Steve says again, shooting Eddie a look.

And Eddie drops it despite his growing questions. When a gorgeous boy tells you to stop asking about the impossibility of his birth, you shut up and listen.

A while later, as Steve is about to drive over the Tennessee state line and the kids doze off in the back, Eddie glances at Steve and shifts in his seat. His leg starts to bounce, his fingers drumming against his knee, as he tries to figure out which question to ask first. Eventually, he ends up blurting out, "So how did you manage to not die?"

Steve blinks and snorts, stifling the rest of his laughter so he doesn't wake the kids. He glances at Eddie, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Well, how much of the story do you want to hear?" he asks.

"All of it." Eddie wants to know everything about Steve. How has he kept all these kids alive and for how long? When did they start traveling the country like this? When did he learn about his heritage? What does he like? What does he hate? Does he believe in fated love and love at first sight?

Okay, that last one can probably wait a little longer. Like, two more days, at least.

Steve hums softly, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as though he's trying to decide where to start. "I didn't know about Zeus until I was eleven," he finally says. "I only learned then because my dad couldn't figure out any other explanation for how lightning struck on clear days whenever I was angry at other kids."

"Didn't you have to deal with monsters?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. And no." Steve frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how in all those stories Zeus will change his form to get with all those women? Like, he'll become whatever he needs to get what he wants."

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"It's a little like that, but I don't change my form. I guess I change my vibe? I can make monsters think I'm the son of a lesser deity. It got even easier when El came along because monsters don't target her."

"Why not?" Eddie asks, perking up some. If El has somehow figured out how to make herself invisible to monsters, maybe other campers can learn, too.

Steve grimaces, and Eddie immediately pushes back the urge to push for more information when he says, "It's...complicated. Let's not get into it right now."

"Okay," Eddie says, flashing Steve what he hopes is a reassuring smile when Steve glances at him. "When did you meet El, then?"

"Five years ago now, when I was fifteen. El's mother showed up, dropped her off with me, threatened me with death if she ever got hurt, and then left. El was, like, just eleven at the time, and our dad was no help. He just shrugged it off and gave me a bigger allowance to care for her."

"Was he not around?"

"No. He...travels. We haven't spoken to him in four years. He hasn't tried speaking to us, either. Despite me literally being Zeus's kid, he can't exactly show me off or anything. And El...well, he can't take her to any functions, either."

Eddie nods, pushing down the urge to ask why. But Steve said he doesn't want to talk about it, so Eddie instead asks, "And what about the rest?"

Steve hums, merging into another lane. "Well, El and I stayed in place for about a year. Then we saw some weird snake monster dragging Will around like a road snack. We saved him, but I almost died. It was my first fight, you know? But I lived, obviously, and El and I agreed to take Will back to his hometown. School was one break anyway, so we just did a road trip in my BMW. We ran into Dustin and Mike along the way. Dustin had made these, like, mechanical wings, and Mike was goading him on to give them a try. We got to the cliff right as Dustin jumped off."

"Wait," Eddie says, holding his hand up to pause Steve's story. "Are you telling me the kid just...decided to recreate Icarus?" he asks.

"Yeah, pretty much. He thought he could actually succeed since he's so much smarter," Steve explains, getting an amused grin as he thinks of it. "Anyway, didn't work, obviously. Dustin fell but managed to catch himself on the cliffside, Mike was yelling his head off but not actually doing anything, and El just took off running toward them. Which meant I had to run toward them, too. So, Will is trying to calm Mike down, El is practically dangling herself over the cliff, and Dustin is lamenting the loss of his wings."

"How'd you rescue him?"

"I just climbed down myself," Steve says, shrugging like it's no big deal. "I had him get on my back and climbed up, chewed both kids out for doing something so dangerous, and then asked if they needed a ride home, which is how I found out they'd run away and were just wandering."

"Half-bloods running away is pretty common," Eddie says, sinking down in his seat as he watches the trees rush by in the darkness. "A lot of us don't feel understood by our human families, or we don't want to endanger them when monsters track us down."

Steve nods, gripping the steering wheel a little harder. "Yeah, that's what Dustin and Mike said, too. I couldn't just leave them alone, so I invited them to come with us. Mike and Will get along really well, and Dustin is a little shit, and it's good for El to have friends her own age, so it all worked out."

"That still leaves out three whole kiddos," Eddie says.

"Well, Lucas and Erica we met in Will's hometown. Their dad and Will's mom had found each other and, like, bonded over having demigod kids. When we brought Will back, we met Lucas and Erica at this, like, barbeque thing to celebrate him being safe. And their parents ended up suggesting that we continue the road trip so the kids could be around others like them before school started again."

"Usually," Eddie says, fiddling with one of his rings, "parents go two ways. They either get really obsessed with keeping their kids safe to the point they're never let out of the house, or they completely ignore and reject the godly influence. But it sounds like their parents weren't doing either of those."

"Having each other helped. There was someone they could turn to when they felt doubt or just wanted to complain. When you're isolated, though, you just do whatever you think will keep you going, even if it might hurt the people you care about."

"You put that...really well."

"I've had a lotta time to think about it," Steve admits, frowning slightly before sighing and continuing with the story. "Anyway, we met Max and her brother a few towns over. It's...not a great story, actually. Her brother was a dick, like, massively horrible. He had a lot of problems and took way too much after his godly father in terms of anger. We ended up fighting because of how he treated Max and it didn't end great, but Max joined us and that's when I realized we needed a new car because the kids were piled on top of each other in the back. We got this conversion van in the next town with my dad's credit card, and we've been traveling ever since."

It's a lot to take in, and Eddie can tell there's a lot that Steve is leaving unsaid, but he doesn't call him out for it. "Okay, so, the whole not dying thing?" he asks.

Steve snorts. "Well, when you're chaperoning a gaggle of demigods, you get good at fighting off monsters. We've also had some...help along the way from a few goddesses, though."

Eddie perks up, looking at Steve like he's an alien. "You got help from goddesses? Which ones?"

"Sometimes, I'll pray to Hestia and she'll direct us to a motel with vacancies that'll be safe for the night. Or, uh, Demeter. I'll pray to her and fruit will grow on some trees or something. Hecate treated us to lunch once, said she found us amusing, and thanked me for the entertainment. Nike, Lucas, Max, and I have all played basketball together. I mean, she smoked us, no question, but she's part of the reason this van can run a few more miles without any gas. Hera helped once, sorta."

"Hera helped you? Hera? The goddess notoriously known for hating children of Zeus? That Hera?"

"Yeah, kinda surprised me, too. But, I mean, she's also the goddess of motherhood or something, right? And all she really ever wants is Zeus to be faithful. I don't think it's too much to ask, and I can't imagine the bullshit she goes through because of him. Anyway, we were getting attacked by this hydra, and I was really struggling to protect the kids. I mean, those heads were practically tearing me apart. And then she just, like, walks up and flicks her hand and the thing is gone. She told me to do better and then, like, disappeared. Not the weirdest thing that's happened, but it's up there."

And Eddie is starting to understand how they're not dead. It's just Steve. Like the prophecy was just Steve. Somehow, he's managed to get himself into the good graces of several goddesses and get their help. It's not entirely unheard of to get a god's favor, but having so many just be genuinely interested in you is unthinkable.

Eddie gets it, though. Steve fascinates him. He's like a magnet that Eddie doesn't want to fight. "So, uh, the kids," Eddie says, trying to keep his mind from lingering on Steve and just how incredible he is, "Who are their parents?"

"Lucas and Erica are kids of Aphrodite."

"Oh, does she like you, too?" Eddie asks.

Steve frowns, looking like he's just been reminded of something sour and gross. "No, we're not on good terms," he says, his voice a little frosty, and Eddie's mouth is suddenly dry.

"Good to know," he manages, his voice a little strained.

"Anyway, Dustin is a child of Athena. Max's mom is Nemesis. Will's dad is Morpheus, and Mike's dad is Plutus. Which has worked out well for us, actually. He keeps finding money on the street whenever we really need it."

"What about El?"

"El's mother...is complicated. We don't really talk about her," Steve says, his words soft and pleading, and Eddie immediately zips his mouth shut, winking conspiratorially at Steve when he glances over.

Then he unzips his mouth and says, "You know, you're pretty metal, Stevie."

Steve laughs, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the kids are still sleeping. When he sees that they are, he relaxes a little. "I've never been called metal before," he says, glancing at Eddie.

"Well, that's a shame. I'll be sure to tell you whenever you're being particularly metal, big boy."

"Big boy?" Steve asks, amusement clear in his voice, and Eddie suddenly worries that Steve doesn't actually like the nickname but it trying to play it off.

Unfortunately, the problem is that Eddie has never been one to filter himself. So when Steve calls him out for the nickname and he panics, Eddie's knee-jerk reaction is to say, "Oh, would you prefer something else? How about pretty boy? Sweetheart? Gorgeous? Handsome?"

Even though it's dark out, Eddie can still see the blush that spreads across Steve's cheeks, the way his fingers tighten on the wheel until his knuckles turn white. He's getting flustered, and Eddie feels himself getting flustered, too, at the idea that it's because of him. He suddenly wants to see what else he can say or do to make that blush spread, and he wants to know just how far it spreads beneath the collar of Steve's shirt.

"Just, uh, whatever you prefer, I guess," Steve mumbles, keeping his eyes resolutely focused on the road and missing Eddie's surprised expression. He does, however, sneak a glance just in time to see the surprise morph into an unbridled grin.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning back in his seat and looking forward to spending the rest of this road trip discovering what makes his Stevie tick.

----

Tag List! There is still room, I think lol

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #percy jackson au #the party #my writing

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 8 months

Text

Making Up

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

warning: suggestive, mention of food (i think, i dont ever remember what i write after its done)

word count: 1.8 k

Usually, as in every other year, Y/n looked forward to training camp; it meant a year was starting, and with that a new start. Yet all she could think about the few months was how she so desperately hoped that training camp could be farther and farther away. But this year was different. Just like last year was different. All because she slept with Quinn once, well more than once but the first time was the inciting incident.

But before the end of last season, with their ‘break up’ if you could even call it that, given they never dated. And since then Y/n has done a large amount of self-reflection, this came about when over the summer she had a weird feeling, one she’s only had after she leaves her family for the season. She was homesick, homesick for Quinn.

She missed him so much, missed how he would hold her at night, and leave small kisses all over her body, she missed feeling his weight on her while they cuddled. She missed him. She wanted him.

The woman hasn’t seen Quinn for four months, and they had barely talked after their ‘break up’, avoiding all chances during their last few games, and though she couldn’t be more happy and proud of him, the man now being the captain only made everything worse. If he was anything but captain, she could get away with avoiding him a lot easier. But life has never gone easy on her.

- Just as expected, training camp went terribly. Well, that’s an exaggeration, she did great, just not well Quinn was her partner, or next to her, or in her eye sight. And realistically, she was probably the only one to notice. Except for Quinn, he always noticed. But he was also in the same situation of not playing that great when Y/n was involved.

So after practice, on their way out, Quinn ran to catch up with the girl just as she was getting in her car, he mutters, “Meet me at my house, we have to talk.”

His deep voice, being a small shock, having not seen him coming. And feeling his warm breath on her neck, and his voice in her ears brought up memories. Ones that her body had a physical reaction to being brought up in her brain. The rosy colour rising in her cheeks, and throat becoming dry.

Gaining the courage to finally knock on Quinn’s door, it opens before she can finish the third knock. Quinn no doubt waited on the other side, waiting for the woman to finally knock after standing out there for far too long.

“Hey.” “Hi.”

Standing in the awkwardness for enough time, Quinn walked out of the entrance way and towards his kitchen, Y/n assumes she’s supposed to follow so she does. Walking into the familiar room, looking around and seeing no changes in the decorations, or lack thereof. Quinn then passes the girl a beer, the cap already off. Quinn knew she hated twist off because they made the palm of her hand sore, so he always did it for her. Even now.

“We have to have it out. We have to have everything out in the open. Or we won’t be able to play together like we used to.” “I agree.”

After standing in the awkwardness once again, Quinn decided that for once he was going to be bold and say what he truly felt, and what he truly wanted, “I love you. And that’s not gonna change.” Taking a sip of her beer, feeling she’ll need it for this, the woman listened as Quinn continued, “I love everything about you. Even the things I hate, and that annoy me, I love. I love how competitive you are, not even in sports, just in everyday things; just that you can unlock the door faster than me, so if Micheal Myers was chasing us you would survive and I wouldn’t. And I love the face you have when you’re tired, but you don’t want to admit it, just for you to fall asleep ten minutes into a movie you fought me over to watch. I love that you’re adamant on only having tomatoes once in your life, when I have seen you eat spaghetti and pizza more than once before-""It’s not the same ""-I love you, Y/n. All of you.”

Tears trickled down the woman’s face, tickling as they went down her neck. Because, fuck she thinks she really loves him too. And that was still really scary to say, but she would get over it for him. Because he wouldn’t hurt her like the other guys, he cared for her, and paid attention to the little things, and god, he was perfect. She couldn’t imagine a future without him. She was always on the fence about kids, but he wanted them, she would give him them.Wiping the tears away, looking into Quinn’s eyes, ones she’s missed so dearly.

“I think I love you too.I’ve only said that to someone once before and my love was taken for granted, so it’s been hard for me to give it out. But Quinny, you’ve never given me a reason to not completely trust you, and I think that’s what I was scared of. But I love you, and I don’t think it will ever change either.”

Swiftly, Quinn brings the girl into a deep, and passionate kiss, one they put all of their love for each other into. Y/n bring her hands to the nape of Quinn’s neck, grabbing the hair in her fist, pulling slightly; eliciting a groan from the boy, while he brings his hands from her waist to her hips to her thighs, lifting her and taking her to the couch. His hands now at the hem of the woman’s shirt, beginning to lift it over her head, before Y/n interrupts and he stops instantly.

“Wait- I don’t want this to be like last time. I don’t want the miscommunication, and the friends-with-benefits thing. I want you. I want to be with you.” “Glad we’re on the same page then.” He says, leaning his head down to kiss the woman’s jaw, and down to the spot she loves on her neck.

“Quinny. So, what does that mean for us?” Quinn, now seeing this wasn’t going fast sits next to the girl, “Y/n. Will you be my girlfriend?” “How would that affect the team, and us playing together, what will people think? I mean- they’ll blame me, ‘first girl in the league, and she goes and dates her captain’ it will look bad. And-” “Y/n, stop thinking. Do you want to be my girlfriend, ‘cause I want to be your boyfriend. A lot.” “Of course! Of course I want to. But-” “Then why are we thinking about what other people will think?”

Quinn would never truly understand. No matter how hard he tries, no man will understand. What people will say. How they’ll think of every reason to hate her and add this to the list. But never will they hate Quinn for it, no. And she knows that Quinn is trying to help, saying not to care what other people think, but it’s hard when if she looks up her own name, everything that comes up is how ‘she doesn’t deserve to be in the league’ or that ‘she doesn’t work hard enough’ even though she is the first in the gym and the last to leave, she gets to the games first, always pushing herself but it was never good enough.

“People will hate me.”

“Y/n, you are the strongest person I know, if any of the guys got the amount of hate you do, they would have quit by now. You don’t let their words make you quit, you push yourself harder. I love you. And I don’t care what those people say, they’re just sexist bastards. You deserve to be happy, and I want to make you happy. Don’t let them take that away.”

That was what she needed to hear. She still had concerns of course, but her happiness will come first and they’ll cross the bridges as they come. Because Quinn was right. Letting those people stop her from living her life, only gave them what they wanted and her nothing. At that a large grin, from ear to ear, spreads on Y/n’s face.

“I love you.” “I love you too. How ‘bout I show you how much I love you?” “Please, Quinny.”

Their naked bodies were now tangled in the bed sheets, Y/n turned her head and gently placed her chin on Quinn’s bare and muscular chest. Just looking at him, his eyes staring into the ceiling gave the woman a chance to observe the changes in him, his new stubble length, and his hair styled differently. Still as handsome as ever.

“It’s rude to stare.” “You don’t know I’m staring, you can’t see me.” “There’s mirrors over there.”

Looking at where Quinn pointed with his chin, there were in fact the mirrors of his closet door that gave him a great few of her face, and their bodies intertwined.

“Fine. You caught me.” Y/n said, bringing a mischievous smirk to Quinn’s face, his hands now moving from the woman’s back to her sides, Quinn knowing that’s where she is ticklish. The woman squirming on top of him (for the second time today) now screaming out (for the second time today)

“Ahhh! Quinny! Ah stop! Wait, I have to talk- ah! Talk to you!”

His hands stopping, and coming to rub up and down on her sides, “‘Bout what?” Y/n can hear the mild concern in his voice and not wanting to worry him says a quick ‘nothing bad’ before sitting up and continuing her sentence, “I just want to talk so we’re on the same page about.. How this will affect the team and if we’ll tell them, and you’re the captain now so you have to put the team first and I never want to put you in that situation.”

“We’re not gonna affect the team.” “You don’t know that.” “Did it before?” “...That was different. And when we ended things it did.” “Well I don’t plan on ending things. Do you?” Y/n’s hands move to the sides of Quinn’s neck, tilting his head up to look at her, “I don’t plan on ending things.” “Good.” Quinn says, a smile on his face while leaning up to press a soft kiss on Y/n’s lips, then on her jaw before falling back against his pillows.

“Do you want to tell the guys?” “Not yet.” “Then let’s not worry about it. Just see how it goes before we tell them.” “Okay.” Leaning down, Y/n rests her head on Quinn’s bare chest once again, hearing his steady heartbeat and the warmness of his chest, warming her ear.

“And don’t give me special treatment in practice.” “I would never. If anything I would push you harder ‘cause I know that’s what works for you.” “Good.”

~taglist~

@books-hlmc

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x nhl player!reader #quinn hughes x player!reader #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine

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marvelettesassemblenow · 7 months

Text

Under my Umbrella

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female Reader

Summary: On your vacation in Edinburgh you spot a lonely man sitting in the rain on a bench. You decide to give him a hot beverage

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: none I think

A/N: This takes place before Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen as did certain things in IW because who knows me, knows I only write fluff. So Steve stays and gets his happy ending.

The sun had just been shining, but now the first drops of rain were landing on the fabric of your jacket. You struggled with the mechanism of your umbrella before you finally managed to open it and even more droplets had found their way onto your skin in the meantime.

When you were more secured under the protecting fabric, you continued walking towards the pavilion that was selling hot beverages. While you were waiting in line you spotted a man sitting on a bench. He was staring at the castle (as most of the people in Edinburgh were) and didn’t seem bothered by the changed weather. His baseball cap protected his face from the rain, but that was about it. He wasn’t even dressed like most of the tourists with rain jackets and walking boots.

“Don’t mind him, he’s been here for a few days now. He’s harmless,” the vendor ripped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was your turn to order. You ordered two hot beverages and struggled to hold the hot containers and the umbrella at the same time. You managed to arrive at the bench the man sat at with only one shoulder slightly more wet.

“Um hi, I thought you might want something to drink to warm you up. I’ve got tea or hot chocolate if you want.” Blue eyes started into yours and you almost let the paper cups slip. Wet pieces of hair came out under the cap, his beard also had some droplets of water in it, but his blue eyes were what caught your attention. “Don’t feel pressured, I just saw you sitting here in the rain and thought you’d might like something.”

“That was very thoughtful of you. I’d like the hot chocolate if that’s okay with you.” His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Of course, I offered, right?” You tried to hold out the right cup, but lost the grip on the umbrella you had with your arm.

“Let me,” he said and when he reached out to take the umbrella and hold it over your head he was very gentle.

“Would it be okay for me to sit here and drink my tea?” you asked and he nodded and told you to wait before you sat down. He took a t-shirt out of a backpack that you hadn’t spotted under his legs and swiped the bench dry with it. You offered to share the umbrella and the man agreed under the premise that he would hold it.

It was quiet for a while until he said: “Do you know that over two million people visit the castle every year?”

“Wow, that’s a lot. But I get it, I haven’t seen something like this before. And the people here are so nice!”

This was a start of a discussion for the two of you. He provided more facts about the city and you learned that he wasn’t originally form Edinburgh too. You talked for almost an hour and the cups were empty when you had to leave.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate and the companionship,” he said when you stood up and he got up with you – still holding the umbrella.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the nice conversation -” you stopped and noticed that you haven’t gotten his name.

“My name is Steve,” he provided.

“Farewell, Steve,” you said and took your umbrella. When you looked back you saw him sitting again in the rain and you weren’t sure if he really had a small smile on his lips or if it was your imagination.

The next day you found yourself back in princess street garden. There were a few reasons for that: 1. The castle was like a magnet, as you could see it from almost every point in town. 2. The garden was such a beautiful place! It was so green and clean, you felt relaxed walking through it. And the 3. reason was something that you had to admit was Steve. You just hoped to see him again.

Was he living there? The vendor had said he had been there for days, but he hadn't smelled or anything. On the other hand he had a backpack with clothes in it. Maybe he was an unfortunate traveler that had been stranded here? Maybe he wasn’t even there anymore and you had come for nothing. Well not nothing as you had clearly come for the view of the castle and the tea. Maybe you’d try the hot chocolate today as Steve had seemed to enjoy it.

And why on earth was your mind always going back to Steve? A guy you had talked to for not even an hour? And were your feet also carrying you faster when you saw the shade of a man with a baseball hat on a bench? You stopped by the pavilion again and ordered two hot chocolates this time.

“I’m trading a hot chocolate for a fun fact about the castle,” you said and held the cup in front of Steves face. This time you were sure there was a smile on his face as you saw it clearly.

“Above a door in the royal palace are the initials MAH engraved. They did this when Mary, queen of the Scots, gave birth to King James IV.”

“Definitely worth a cup of hot chocolate,” you held out the cup and he took it and patted the seat next to him. This time you didn’t have an excuse to sit as closely to him as it wasn’t raining. You were in the middle of a sip when a touch on your leg startled you. You looked over to Steve who pointed a finger towards the grass where a small squirrel was, before it continued its way towards the two of you. It nibbled shortly on your shoelaces before it decided it wasn’t a snack and went back to its next target.

“Did you see that?” you asked full of glee.

“I did!” he confirmed. It did seem like he just noticed that his hand was still slightly touching your leg and he removed it. “You want to take a walk with me?” he asked and you agreed.

Visiting Steve was like an unspoken rule. Just like you never asked why he was always sitting on that bench. Time with him flew and one hour turned into two. He made you laugh, he was very attentive and, on the day, when it rained again, he held the umbrella so you wouldn’t get wet while he had to duck his head.

“This is my last day here. I should be packing, but I rather saw you for the last time.” You couldn’t believe that you told him that. But there was nothing to lose, this was the last time you saw him.

“I think I have to stay a little longer, but at least I’ve got to know you.” You had reached the end of the park and looked at each. Steves skin was tinted red from the reflection of the umbrella and you had never seen someone more beautiful!

“I’ll miss our daily dates,” you almost whispered.

“I’ll miss you,” was Steves simple response. He bent forward and suddenly he pressed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first but then he put more pressure in it when you didn’t pull away. His hand was touching your face softly and his finger stroked your cheek when he put some distance between your faces.

“Stay safe, sunshine”

A few years later

“I can’t believe that we took the hard way. No one else here is out of breath!” you complained when you let yourself fall on the grass and watched the people walking the paved path while you and Steve had walked the hard way to the top of Arthurs seat to enjoy the view of Edinburgh.

“Have I told you that you look even more beautiful than the day I first saw you, sunshine?” Steve sat down so close to you, so he could put his arm behind you and you could lean against it.

“You tell me that every day,” you laughed and put your head on his shoulder.

“It’s the truth! When I saw you struggling holding all three items in your hand and the rain falling down your umbrella, a small slip of sun came through and illuminated you. I don’t call you sunshine for no reason.”

“You are a charmer. I can’t believe we’ve met that way!”

It had been two days after your farewell when you saw the news about Captain America destroying a train station in Edinburgh. It only took a few seconds of the footage until you realized that the homeless/ stranded man you had seen daily was actually Captain America who had been on the run. Months later there had been a letter in your postbox. It had been from Steve who figured out where you lived and wanted to give you the option if you wanted to see him or not.

Of course you had wanted to see him and after a lot of dates, that didn’t include a bench in the park, you moved in together and finally decided to visit the place again where it had all begun.

“It is a nice story. But I think we could leave out the part where you thought I was homeless,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to your side of the head. He was very affectionate since the two of you began dating and you were loving it. When the two of you met again in person, he had told you that he had been searching for Wanda. And while he had be sitting in the park, he had heard about all the stuff people said about the castle, so he could provide the facts he told you in exchange for the hot chocolate.

“I will never leave out that part. It is one of the best parts.” it was your favorite part because it made everyone laugh.

“My favorite part was meeting you,” he pulled you towards him until you both fell back onto the ground and kissed you. Never in your life would you have thought that you’d meet your future husband on your vacation. Not that Steve knew about your upcoming proposal. The only other person who knew was the vendor in princess street garden who would make sure that your bench wouldn’t be occupied tomorrow. But for now you would enjoy being in Steves arm.

Masterlist | Library Blog

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america oneshot #fluff #marvel fanfiction

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ohsohoney · 24 days

Text

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Eight

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: A real long one. Honestly don't know how I did it but it was one session and now I'm dead, hopefully it's good enough! Lots of cuteness though and another snippet with Danny! Be warned cake mix is too baking. So :)

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

“This is a bad idea, right?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Marsh.” I admonished, sighing as I rolled my head to the left to level him with a long look before my eyes eventually wandered back on over to the store’s front.

“What? You said it.” Marshall chuckled lowly, hands interlocked in his lap.

We were currently sat in the car park of a Trader Joe's, in a spot at a roundabout the midway mark. I hadn’t thought too much of the ask during my sudden excitement to roam around a grocery store I’d yet to see (What? I was showing my age. Bite me.). But it was now hitting me at full force.

“Why’d you say yes anyway?” I was quick to shoot back at him, voice a tad bit strained. I shook my head and eventually resolved into brushing the whole idea away, “Let’s just forget it.”

A scoff and Marshall was rolling his eyes at the notion, “We’re already here. No point in leavin’ now.”

“We didn’t think this through though. I mean, what if somebody spots us?” I pointed out, gaze already surveying the mostly empty parking lot for the next potential pap.

“You make it out like we’re about to case the joint,” Em snorted, earning a wry smile off of me in retort, a reaction I couldn’t quite help. “Said you wanted to bake a cake, so we gonna. ‘Cause I’ll let you know now, I ain’t got the shit to make this back at the house.”

I blew a soft breath from out of my nose, vaguely amused. “No shit.” I replied, unable to imagine the man in a frilly pink apron and covered in flour on a casual Tuesday afternoon. I ended up sighing again anyway, “You sure? I mean, I could just run in.”

Marshall was already shaking his head at me, “Nah, it’ll be fine. If you really that worried you can take my cap. Or think I got another hoodie in the trunk.”

Blinking, I was unable to say much else before Em was hopping out and rounding the car to pull apart the contents of his boot. He muttered away, mostly to himself, before he returned a couple of moments later, standing by the driver’s door with an oversized hoodie in his hand. He held it out towards me and I found myself taking it with a gentle smile in thanks.

It didn’t take long for me to tug the jumper on over my head, the hood messing up my hair and catching on the seat belt before I had the commonsense to just unbuckle the stupid thing. Marshall watched the struggle with a mirthful smirk, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the sunlight from where it rested against the edge of the door, until he eventually moved to close it, cropping up outside of the passenger’s side a second later. He tugged on the handle and I blinked over at him when a gust of wind washed over me.

I guessed I must have looked a tad bit pathetic as I turned in my seat to face him, legs moving to dangle out the side of the car, or at least it felt that way, what with how Marshall’s expression had since settled into something almost akin to fondness.

My nose wrinkled just as he let go of a soft laugh. It was a sound I found myself feeling a hint of pride about whenever I heard it, even if it meant that I was the victim of the current joke.

“Here, let me.” He spoke, already reaching out to fix my hood and to brush a tangled strand of hair behind my ear. If he heard the way my breath hitched at the sudden motion he didn’t mention it, but I witnessed how his keen eyes flickered back and forth between my own. “There. Screams incognito.”

Snorting at the heavy use of sarcasm, I smiled up at him, only to notice then how he’d crowded himself between my legs to help aid me. My stomach swooped at the realisation and I swallowed thickly, but before I could question the feeling, Marshall was stepping away again, sporting a wry grin of his own.

“Need my hat, Kim Possible? Or you good?”

Rolling my eyes, I shuffled further forward in my seat to jump out of the SUV, feet hitting the gravel with an audible scuff. “She doesn’t wear a hat and even if she did, I doubt it’d be Kangol.” I retorted, slipping by him to reach out and shut the door.

“Aye, what’s wrong with my cap?” Marshall prodded as the headlights flashed behind us to signal the car locking. I noticed how his brow had wrinkled at the slight when I looked over at him and so I nudged my shoulder with his as we walked across the lot.

“Nothing.” I claimed with a growing smile, reaching up to knock the brim of his hat just as we made it to the entrance. “Suits you.”

Marshall hummed a sound that was vaguely disbelieving, eyes lingering on me before he turned to pick up a basket. “Know what you need?”

“Sort of.” I replied distractedly, trying to take everything in. “This place is like every Hallmark movie I’ve ever seen come to life.”

“The fuck?”

Rolling my eyes, I just continued on, walking past Marshall, who’d since paused to shoot a bewildered glance my way, and towards a horde of fruit and veg stalls. “It’s just so fuckin’ American. Back home the closest place you’d get to this is a Big Tesco’s and even that’s like a standard food shop. This. It’s something straight out of one of them films.”

“It’s Trader Joe’s.” Marshall deadpanned, blinking back at me now with an expression that just had me cracking up.

“Stop making me feel dumb.” I rebuked lightly, head darting every which way as he slid on over to catch up to me before he then barrelled straight past. I let him lead, figuring he’d be better off knowing where everything could possibly be more than I ever would. “It’s just a big change, ‘s all.”

His cheek twitched with the beginnings of a smirk. “Everything's a big change with you.”

I poked his side in retaliation, pleased when he bristled but didn’t comment further on it. “Where do you reckon cake mix would be then?” I wondered out loud, peering around the aisle we were headed down. Honestly, cereals galore. Captain Crunch, Coco Pops, Cinnamon Toast Crunch… And those were just the C’s. Hang on a second, Eggo’s?

“Cake mix?” Em questioned me, flicking a raised brow my way and tugging me from my observations, “Bitch, I thought you was bakin’.”

Snorting, I couldn’t do much other than shrug. “It is baking!” I attempted to defend, but he was having none of it, shaking his head mockingly back at me. “Just the easier version?” I attempted to argue sheepishly.

I was rewarded with a soft tut, but Marshall did in fact then tilt his head over towards the right to signal where he figured the box mixes might be, “Cheat.”

Giving into the childish urge, I poked my tongue out at him and dipped around the next corner, smiling at the way his low humoured huff followed after me. It was only when I saw an all too extensive stock of baking goods parked up ahead that I quickened my pace, leaving him to trail behind.

“What do you reckon then, red velvet or vanilla? You sort of seem like a vanilla guy.” I commented when he finally caught up, gaze flitting between the two cake mixes I’d since picked up off the shelf before my eyes then darted over to meet his teasingly as he approached.

He kissed his teeth and batted the box of vanilla I held away from his view, rolling his eyes even though we both could see that he was trying to withhold another grin. I allowed the motion. “You don’t know me at all.” Marshall scoffed, getting in my space once more today to make a grab for a box sitting on the shelf just above my head. “All about the chocolate, sweetheart.”

Biting my tongue, I worked hard to keep my face from giving way to how the proximity seemed to make my skin prickle. His eyes found mine though as he held the winning mix up between the two of us. I swiped it from his hold, scanning over the necessary ingredients to keep myself from focusing too much on– whatever it was I was feeling. “Hm, only need to add eggs and milk. Could deck this out though.”

“Whatchu thinkin’?” Em asked me in that way he usually did, like he was genuinely invested in everything I had to say. He’d propped his forearm up on the shelf as he waited for me to weigh in and my stare tracked its way up from the back of the box to roam over the steady way he was now watching me. I reached up to tuck another fallen strand of hair behind my ear, the hood making the typically effortless action that much harder.

“A shit ton of chocolate?” I proposed with a raised brow.

“That mean you gone put my kid to sleep then?” He said, then snickered at my sudden change in expression, the corner of his lip tugging upwards. “Z will be bouncin’ off the walls.”

“It’ll be portioned!” I rebuted in the face of his amusement, quick to fall back on all my so-called years of parenting, “She’ll be fine!”

Marshall snorted in retort but appeared to relent, pinching the cake mix from my hand and throwing it into the basket haphazardly, “I’ll be sure to bring this moment back up when I’m right.” He added before he took off, probably in search of the confectionary aisle.

But see, since knowing the man, I’d long since come to realise that he had a big enough sweet tooth that could rival that of my own, meaning that all this posturing back and forth about decking out the cake was just a facade of sorts, him attempting to put my neck on the line for when the fallout eventually happened. I couldn't bring myself to mind though, not when he was wearing that stupid smug smile and not even when he ended up tossing a majority of the chocolate we’d collected into the basket.

I ended up grinning all the way back to the car.

“See! It was well worth it now, don’t you reckon?” I said with a sardonic smile, covered in cake mix, egg and frosting, my dirtied hands settled on my hips as I stared down at the hazardous cake we’d gone and created.

My head tilted just so, allowing myself to look at it from a normal perspective seeing as it had somehow managed to slant far left whilst it’d been baking in the oven. But I blamed Em for that one, the idiot having set the temperature up way too high.

“What, so we can cover up the monstrosity?” Marshall shot back at me from where he was stood by the kitchen sink, washing his hands free of all the frosting he’d been licking from the bowl moments before I’d stolen it out from under him. “Yeah, but you know what they say, a pig in lipstick is still a pig.”

Haughtily, I spun around on my heel just enough for my hip to press against the counter and for my eyes to hone in on him. I smirked, “Saying’s actually, a hog in armour is still but a hog.”

“Same fuckin’ thing.” Marshall admonished in a grunt, flicking his sopping wet hands out at me when he pulled away from the sink in search of something to dry them with. I tensed at the attack, feeling the splatter hit me before I peered down to spot a couple soup duds clinging to my arm and the collar of my top. He just chuckled, greatly amused.

“Dick.” I huffed and picked up an M&M from the bowl I’d just poured the bag into to toss back at him in retaliation.

Irritatingly, Marshall managed to snap the treat up out of the air with ease, pushing the blue ball forward on his tongue to flash it tauntingly between his teeth before he finally chewed on it. The crunch resonated in the quiet hum of the house. “You were sayin’?”

I narrowed my eyes, “Show off.”

But all that did was earn me another light laugh, Em sliding on closer to pinch a few more from the same bowl. “I’m just that good.” He retorted egotistically, before he turned to level me with the last M&M he held, titling his chin ever so slightly to goad me into trying to catch one myself.

Relenting to the fight all too easily, I braced myself in a steady stance and waited. When he tossed it, I managed to extend my neck near enough that I was close to capturing the colourful sweet, but just not close enough, my nose scrunched in annoyance when it bounced off the side of my cheek and onto the counter with a clatter. “Fuck.” I sighed, but not one to be outdone I looked towards him again, “Again.”

He raised a single brow at the demand but followed, picking up another handful and smiling as he prepared to pelt them my way one by one. It was something we continued on with for a short while, tossing the things back and forth between us as we tallied up a score, he was winning of course, but surprisingly I wasn’t too far behind, which actually eased the loss a fair bit.

We were actually at it long enough that we’d begun to squabble, calling one another a cheat, aiming for anything other than our mouths, even going as far as to switch up tactics by propping ourselves up on counters and barstools to annoy the other, before then crouching down as low as we could on Marshall’s tiled floors. It was there that we were eventually found.

Marshall spotted her first, arm already propped up before him and preparing to aim when his eyes shifted over to the left and caught sight of something standing in the kitchen doorway. His grin wobbled in further amusement, most likely due to the face I’d gone and pulled when I followed his line of sight, still stuck in my current position; squatting by the backdoor.

We were trying for a record, okay?

“Hey creep, what’s with the face?” Marshall greeted, his laughter carrying throughout the room when he finally tossed the chocolate treat my way only for it to actually make it into my mouth this time around, hitting the roof and sending my startled frown into a gasping smile.

Rosie was stood there, just off to the side by the counter now, seemingly content to simply watch us with a soft, goading smile on her face, her school bag settled by her feet. She shrugged, glancing over at her dad whilst I bounced on back to where I’d left Em to guard our semi-completed cake. “Nice to come home to noise, is all.”

The tip of Marshall’s nose did something odd then, a reaction to the words that went unnoticed by the girl, but he continued on smiling, dropping the few remaining M&M’s he held back into the packet we’d opened once the bowl had run dry.

“Didn’t hear you come in.” He mentioned as he rounded the counter to pull his daughter into a hug, steering her away from the onslaught of chocolate that littered the side when Rosie attempted to make a grab for the nearest share-pack of Hershey’s Kisses. “Nuh-uh. Dinner first, kid, then we can talk about you gettin’ a slice of our masterpiece.”

“Masterpiece?” Rosie’s eyes widened as she gifted the two of us a disbelieving snort, gaze jumping back between her dad and me, I narrowed my eyes playfully in retort whilst Marshall settled for poking her dimpled cheek. “It looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

“Hey!” I chided, just as Marshall responded with, “What we were aimin’ for.”

The pair of us shared a mirthful look before we both started cracking up, Rosie merely shook her head at our antics but it was with the distraction that she finally managed to grab a wrapped Kiss. My eyes widened at the flash of silver I caught sight of just as she darted around the island to escape Em’s outstretched arms when he caught on too, crowding into my side when he shot her a long look, obviously hoping to put her off eating the treat. But it was already unwrapped and on her tongue before I could even blink back down at her.

I snorted, forever amused by the duo’s antics, and ran a hand over the girl’s plaited scalp. “Snooze you lose, Mathers.” I said encouragingly with a lazy shrug.

Z grinned at the show of support and sent a smug look back at her father, baring her chocolate covered teeth to him. Marshall leant forward so that his palms could press against the countertop and levelled the two of us with another long look, only this one was out of exasperation.

Rosie and I shared a glance of anticipation before we both turned back to face him with a matching set of innocent smiles, Rosie doing a much better job than me seeing as she could work that whole doe eyed perspective. Em heaved a hefty sigh. “Dinner, then cake. Cool?”

The girl beamed and was quick to nod her assent, squeezing my waist in what must have been a delayed embrace of hello, or maybe thanks, before she took a moment to assess our handy work. The cake was sparsely decorated, topped with a plethora of icing, at Marshall’s demand, and scattered with pieces of chocolate that we’d managed to stick on during our M&M disaster. I grimaced a tad whilst Em just looked on in pride.

“This is what you did whilst I was at school?” Z asked, dipping down to get a closer look at the disaster we dubbed a cake. Her expression truly was hilarious when she slowly stood again to dart a quizzical look between us.

“What d’you mean ‘this’?” Marshall answered her, raising a brow high enough to rival his daughter's own. “This is where hard work gets you.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, only adding fuel to the fire with my next comment, “Besides, we made it just for you. Don’t you like it?” I asked teasingly, batting my eyes over at her in hopes to see her crumble just a tad.

Rosie looked back at the sad excuse of a cake and didn’t falter, “Cake is cake. But next time you guys should probably wait for me.”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re such a chef.” Marshall smirked, having moved to join us on the other side of the island to allow his eyes to roam over the tilting structure, he shucked Z’s chin in addition which only earnt him a prod to his bicep.

“A baker, actually.” Rosie corrected with a smile, ever so pleased with herself.

“Oo,” Em dragged out, taking a stripe of frosting off the cake’s side just so that he could wipe it across the tip of the kid’s nose. “She’s a smartass, too.”

Rosie’s eyes widened in alarm to the smear and her jaw dropped as she gasped, not having anticipated the move. “Dollar!” She exclaimed in turn, wiping the chocolate off her nose before smearing it down her dad’s front.

With a roll of his eyes, Marshall huffed but it was more of a chuckle than an actual sigh as he looked back up from his ruined tee. “Touche.” They shared a laugh as Em went to grab a kitchen towel to wipe his hands clean with, “Go ‘n grab my wallet.” He told her and I watched on as Z did exactly that, swiping a green bill from its contents so that she could go and stuff it in the jar.

I shook my head ever so at the dynamic they made, continuing to smile as Marshall dropped the tissue he’d just been using into the bin before he made a grab for his daughter, causing her to jump and laugh as they tumbled about the kitchen together. I was perfectly content to watch on, slowly packing away the ingredients we had yet to use whilst wiping down the sides, the pair of them eased up after a minute or two, making their way back to the island, Marshall still defending our chocolate monstrosity.

“It’ll taste good, so who cares what it looks like?”

“Most people, Dad.” Rosie countered with a sly smile as she settled onto a barstool, handing over a frosting covered spoon that had apparently strayed during our decorating. I smiled softly in thanks, grabbing the other utensils that littered the space and crossing the floor to wash up.

“I got that.” Marshall assured me, hip checking my side before I could even reach for the dish soap.

My forehead wrinkled, “I don’t mind.”

He smiled in return, already moving to further roll up his sleeves, “I know, but I got it.”

I let it go, knowing when to pick and choose my fights with him now, and instead wandered back to see if I could make the cake work, picking up a couple of Whoppers that were supposedly meant to be the equivalent of a Maltesers, but I just couldn’t taste it.

“Can I help?” Rosie asked after a moment, capturing my attention when she sidled up to join me.

“‘Course,” I replied easily, already handing over the bag, “I think if we just cover it with as much chocolate as we can it’ll look…”

“Better than it does?” Z finished for me, her giggles spilling from her lips seamlessly whilst she began to dot Whoppers around the rim of the highest tier.

“Hey, it’s not that bad.” I tried, nudging her elbow with mine, but ended up chuckling too. “It was your dad’s fault anyway, all my previous cakes have turned out perfect.”

“I can still hear you.” Marshall’s voice cut in from behind us, garnering our focus for a split second before I waved him off.

“Yeah, yeah. Just letting Z here know I’m not to blame.” I told him, scattering the remaining M&M’s we had to spare over the top, managing to cover up some of the frosting we’d gone and butchered with a colourful swirl. Rosie snickered, having since switched up with her choice of chocolate so that she could place a few Kisses to the lower layers.

“I was just followin’ your instructions.” Em argued with me, the huff that followed was evident.

“Not well!”

A giggle had me smiling down at Rosie, who was happy enough to let her gaze drift between the two of us. “I bet it still tastes good.” She interrupted, trying to soothe her father’s bruised ego probably. But it was sweet enough to have me agreeing.

“Yeah, I mean who doesn't like chocolate?”

–

Dinner was apparently a Mathers Household classic. Spagbol. Or well just spaghetti to these lot. Something I hadn’t been able to let slide what with me being a fan. Though Marshall seemed amused rather than put off by my attempts at rapping the opening to Lose Yourself whilst he’d cooked, something which earnt me points with Rosie seeing as she could spit it far better than the composer himself.

It was sort of strange to be a witness to him doing such a mundane task like cooking though, but I enjoyed it all the same, watching him talk with Rosie about school as he drained the pasta and added a couple of herbs to the ground mince. An odd sense of privilege came with the slight peak into his daily life, figuring that most would have just expected him to have a live-in chef or a plethora of meals waiting to be reheated in his fridge. But no, Marshall appeared to actually enjoy the activity, enjoy the hush of music that played overhead whilst the steam from a boiling pot simmered under his steady hand, enjoy how slowly the process came together so that he could boss Rosie and I into setting the table when the food was almost ready.

Rosie had led me into the dining room they used, a room more intimate than the larger one the man had shown me during his grand tour, obviously used for when he had more than just one person over. As I set down a couple placemats, I guessed it was a room that only he and Rosie typically got use out of, the table circular and just large enough so that you had your own space but could easily be roped into another’s. It reminded me of the one we’d had as a kid, wooden, small and quaint, but that had been before one of mum’s boyfriends had fallen through it.

“You okay?” Rosie’s questioning broke me from my thoughts and I looked up to find her settling a fork down onto the mat opposite.

I blinked and then smiled, feeling how easy the gesture came to me. “Just lost in thought.”

She smiled too, hers crinkling the corners of her eyes as she finished setting up by dropping the last spoon down. “It’s nice having you here, you know. Sometimes it’s quiet just me and Dad, even when Ayla comes over.” She remarked, mentioning her older sister with the kind of sincerity that you only really held for your siblings, “You make him laugh, too. Like a lot.”

Blowing out a soft breath that sounded more like a chuckle, I reached out to fix a placemat that was a tad bit crooked, finding it simpler to focus on the small task rather than what the meaning behind Rosie’s words might possibly mean. “He makes me laugh too.” I replied and shot her a slight grin, it was then that Marshall emerged carrying two plates.

“And voila.” The man said as he set the dishes down, butchering the French word enough to have me hiding an indulgent smile.

“Smells good.” I commented, watching as a plethora of steam erupted up off the mountain shaped plate of spaghetti.

Em flashed me a bright grin, an actual one with teeth that had my mind short circuiting for a split second before he was speaking again, “Lemme grab the last one. You want some drinks?”

Rosie, who had already settled into the seat she’d been standing behind, nodded eagerly in answer, “Soda?” When she received a single brow in retort, she giggled and relented, “Juice, please.”

Smiling at the exchange, I was only caught a little off guard when I looked back at Marshall to find him waiting on my own reply, I silently scrambled for an answer, “Um, just water, please.” I said and he gave a dip of his chin to show he’d heard before he turned to head back to the kitchen. “Want help?” I called out, just managing to catch him before he slipped past the hall.

He looked ready to wave the offer off, before he thought about it. Three drinks and a single plate was easy work for a girl who’d worked a majority of her teens in pub restaurants and the like, but Marshall seemed to realise the slight struggle he might face. “Sure.”

As easy as that. Or so it only appeared, because from the expression that clouded Rosie’s face when I glanced back over to shoot her a quick smile, the exchange seemed to have perplexed her ever so.

Em had already continued on his route to the kitchen when I looked back to him, hoping to catch something in his answer to the face she’d pulled, but it seemed he hadn't been witness to it at all. “You okay?” I found myself asking, mimicking Z’s earlier question.

She looked a little startled when her eyes flew up to find mine, before she blinked and blew out a gentle laugh. “Didn’t think he’d go down without a fight.”

And oh. I had to chuckle a little at that too, having seen the way he’d been so prepared to deny the help just before he’d nodded. It made me wonder how much she’d bared witness to throughout the years. Em was strong, yes, but he also had a stubborn streak a mile long.

“What can I say, Z?” I sighed dramatically as I headed towards the door, “I just have a way with people.”

Her cheeky grin was the last thing I saw before I was padding around the corner and then into the kitchen, finding Em stood by the counter with a bowl of grated cheese and the drinks we’d asked for already waiting to be picked up again.

I snorted softly at the picture he painted, a handful of the shredded cheese halfway to his mouth and face only a tad bit surprised. He flipped me off as I came around to take hold of the drinks, only furthering my amusement.

“I mean, what an appetiser.” I teased, the words followed by a bout of giggles when he flicked the remnants at me. Thankfully though, most of the cheese only made it about halfway over the countertop, causing my grin to widen that much more.

Marshall went to pick up another load and so I squeaked, grabbing the drinks and darting back out of the room before he could toss it at me.

I was chuckling away to myself by the time I made it back to the table, Rosie having already started in on her dinner, the dead giveaway being the slight red smear of sauce that stained her lower lip even as she pretended that she’d just been waiting patiently for us to return.

I wiped the corner of my own mouth after settling down her juice in an attempt to warn her and watched as her eyes widened before she cleared the smear away with the back of her hand, the action seemingly saving her from another one of Em’s disapproving looks because not a second Marshall reappeared.

Taking to my seat in an attempt to hide my slight smile, I thanked him for the food, to which the man merely rolled his eyes, ignoring the gratitude altogether. I bit down on my smirk and instead opted for shaking my head as I picked up my fork.

The food was honest to God some of the best I’d had in a long while, whether it was down to it having been ages since someone had cooked a proper homemade meal for me or just him having mastered the art of the dish, I didn’t know. But I made sure to tell him.

Never in all my life would I have expected to have been a witness, let alone the cause of the light flush that coloured the tips of his ears. But it was impossibly endearing, so much so that I refrained from playfully mocking him for it. Rosie though, had no such qualms. “You look a little red, Dad. You gettin’ sick?”

If Marshall could have he would have scowled at the ask, but this was his baby and so I knew that the smile he gifted her as he turned was levelled with a strained edge. “Fine.”

I snorted quietly, but from the way the flush dropped to the back of Em’s neck it seemed he’d heard it all the same.

Cake followed dinner, as promised. And to my surprise it hadn’t tasted half bad. The chocolate frosting wasn’t all it was cut out to be, not much of a shock seeing as I was alright with it in small doses but even my cupcakes lost their tops nine times out of ten, so Em was gifted the majority of it, something he seemed both pleased and a little guilty about, probably down to the excess amount of sugar. Still he worked his way through it, the three of us talking about Rosie’s day and then our own, leaving out the more exciting details as to not make her feel left out, before we all started packing away.

“Told you so.” Em commented when we’d loaded the dishwasher and wiped the sides free of cheese, his gaze was trained on his daughter, who appeared to be talking a mile a minute about the movie her and her friends had watched at their last sleepover whilst bouncing from foot to foot.

Ah, the inevitable sugar rush. I turned my face away to hide my growing smile before I lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “It’ll die down soon enough, might even make it easier for her to fall asleep.” I murmured, passing him a tea towel that he used to dry his hands.

With a grunt that was more an amused hum, Marshall paused by the counter and waited for Rosie to take a breath before he cut in, “You got homework?”

The girl seemed to think about it, eyes flitting to the ceiling as though she could see the inside of her brain and was set about working her way through a catalogue there, before dropping her gaze back to him and shaking her head. “No, but I did promise Sara I’d call her tonight.” At her father’s expecting look, she tacked on, “If you said it was okay, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Marshall blew out a soft chuckle, lips quirking ever so before he waved the kid off, tossing the tea towel over his shoulder. “Go on, just not too late, yeah?”

“Promise!” She grinned, darting around the kitchen to knock into his side, arms encasing his torso in a brief hug before she jumped to do the same to me. I barely had time to wrap my arms back around her before she was darting away again, this time headed for the stairs after stealing yet another Hershey’s Kiss from the last of the cake we’d yet to hide away.

“Z!” Was the only scold she heard before she was gone from sight, leaving only a trail of laughter behind her.

I snorted too, shaking my head mirthfully whilst I worked my way around the kitchen counter to place a cover over the cake slices and putting them up out of reach.

“Kid’s gonna be the death of me.” Marshall added in a low sigh, still staring off after his daughter before he cracked a soft smile, eyes then flitting over to meet mine. “Best pray the sugar wears off quick.”

I widened my eyes in jest to his warning, but paid it no real mind, knowing he was only being stupid. “Dinner really was good, you know.” I mentioned it again, mainly just to see if I could provoke the same flush from earlier, but also so he knew I meant it. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”

To my pleasure the tiniest hue could be made out from across the island, but Marshall hid it all too easily with a calculated tilt of his head. He shrugged softly when he answered me, “Know how it is, sort of had to provide for myself for a long while. Mom wasn’t always around when I was a kid, Nate grew up and relied on me most nights, then when I was out in LA tryna make it big, was skimming money off the top of the odd jobs I worked jus’ so I could eat and send some back home.” He levelled me with another look then, palms coming to rest on the countertop, “Sort of enjoyed it, I guess. After a while, just helped me escape.”

I nodded slowly in understanding. Before I could say anything though, the silence the kitchen had gotten swept up in was quickly broken by the sound of my phone.

Jumping at the ring, I blinked out of the dazed staring match I hadn't even realised I’d been a part of with Em before looking around to try and spot the last place I’d left it. Marshall picked it up and handed it over with a sly smirk, having caught on to my short term memory.

“Thanks.” I breathed out in appreciation and then looked down to see who it was that was calling, my grin grew. “It’s Danny.” I let slip to Marshall before hurrying to pick up the call, “Hey stranger!” I greeted the second the line connected, surprised to note that the signal wasn’t as shitty as it usually was.

“Oh, it’s you.” Came my brother’s short reply as though he hadn’t expected exactly that, his face cropping into view from where he perched on a lower bunk, all tanned from the Cyprus sun.

I let my eyes fall into a narrowed glare, “Know you’ve always been short of two brain cells, but who did you really expect to fuckin’ see when callin’ me?”

Danny’s smirk came into full focus before he was grinning away, stare jumping away from the camera for a brief moment before it darted back. “Love you, too.” He chided halfheartedly and with a slight tut, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his knees whilst I moved to settle my phone down onto the kitchen counter, “Just figured I’d give you a bell whilst I had some time, that so hard to believe?”

Even when rolling my eyes, I couldn't dampen my smile. “Yeah, it is.” I chuckled, taking in the background and anything else I could, “You at camp?”

He hummed around a nod, looking off to the side probably to get a feel for what I was seeing. “Told you, din’t I? At a base here for a couple weeks, doin’ some more trainin’ for the deployment followin’ my leave.”

“Well, you mentioned the first half.” I acknowledged, but wasn’t surprised. Danny always tended to stick to the most basic of explanations, such as the time he’d gone away with his mates to a festival for a weekend and said he was on his way back– failed to mention that it was a days fucking trip though.

The twat just waved me off, “Exactly. Anyway, what you up to, where you at?” He came in a little closer then to the screen as though he was attempting to look behind my head. “Not still in New York are ya? Thought you’d want shot of ‘em by now, all them Americans.”

Snorting and casting a chance glance up, I found Marshall by the sink, rinsing the few glasses we’d used earlier, he shot an unimpressed brow my way. “Not in New York, no. But still in The States, with said Americans.” I answered him, shaking my head at the way his lips pursed in a low hum, “So be careful, there are big ears listening in.” I also remarked, thinking back to Drew’s nickname for Em.

“Aye.” The man mentioned then warned, having since finished by the sink so that he could now point a warning finger my way, I rolled my eyes but my smirk was far too playful.

Danny’s voice dragged back my attention to how he had since crowded in closer in an stupid attempt to see through the screen and into the kitchen. “Oi, who’s that? Don’t tell me I was spot on with the mystery man, El! Shit!”

The reminder of Dan’s earlier words the night before I’d met Em had me flushing slightly and immediately my traitorous gaze shifted over towards the man himself, who seemed far too amused as he slid on closer. “Fuck off, Danny.”

The twat only laughed though, all too happy with my reaction it seemed. “Ah, come on! Lemme meet him, just wanna say ‘ello!”

I pressed my lips together to keep the biting words which lined my tongue from springing forth, could always trust your own flesh and blood to turn on you at the drop of a hat. The traitor. “Fuck off.” I repeated, but my words lacked any real heat when Marshall rocked into the side of me to catch a quick peek of Danny’s glinting eyes.

My brother paused as he took in the sudden newcomer and his face was a right picture when he started to stumble over his next sentence, “Ah– right, hang on. Fuckin’ what?”

Unable to help myself, I laughed freely, feeling a little euphoric now that I was no longer on the end of all his ribbing. Em seemed to get a kick out of it too, even now that he was no longer in view he was still close by, smirking at both Danny and I’s reactions.

“Elia!” Danny called hotly, eyes wide as they flickered all over my face as if he hoped to find some sort of answer there, “Tell me that wasn’t who I thought it was.”

Snorting, I gifted him a smug smile, “Can’t do that, sorry.”

“Lia.” Danny practically hissed, before pulling out the face he knew I hated, one which he’d mastered decades ago and had since taught Lottie, seeing as it was the kind that always had me feeling guilty or had the two of them forcing my hand. “Come on, you know you can tell me anythin’.”

I flipped him off, scoffing at the attempt to butter me up but even so, I still felt my walls crumble. “Ugh, you’re such a prick, Danny.” I blew out, eyes straying away from the screen and over to where Marshall still stood, looking back at me, “Do you mind?”

With a smile that I couldn't quite place the emotion behind, Em rolled his eyes at the ask and slid back into view, close enough now that his entire side pressed against mine. I chewed on my lower lip as I watched my brother observe Marshall whilst slowly losing his mind.

“Jesus Christ, man. Shit.” Were the first few words he spouted, a hand coming up to rake across his face whilst Em shook a tad with a light chortle, “I mean, fuck.” Danny continued once his arm had fallen away, attempting to take in the scene again before his stare dragged back to me, “I know you’re in with these lot, El. But shit– Eminem? How the fuck does that even happen?”

I had to laugh at that, knowing full well how he was feeling.

“I mean, come on! Mate! It’s an honour, I swear.” Danny started to fangirl, jaw still agape and eyes almost starstruck.

“Good to meet you, man.” Marshall said in his usual voice, not the one reversed for the public, for interviews and the like, but the one he used with Rosie, with Soup and Drew, with me. I was immensely thankful for it. “Heard a lot about you.”

Danny seemed to remember himself at that, sitting back a bit in his bunk, dog tags rattling with the motion, as he dragged out a long breath. “Only good things I hope.” He chuckled in that charming way of his, the type that used to get him free sweets down at the local shops and have the old ladies outside the cafe swooning.

“Nah, I let him in on that laundrette heist you committed when you were fifteen and told him ‘bout the times you wet the bed.” I interrupted, smirking when Dan’s eyes cut to me.

“You know that weren’t me, it was Danny Evans.” Danny sniped back far too quickly, “How many times do I gotta tell you?”

I chuckled around a small a-huh, “Sure, Dan. How’d you barrel into the pub the same night and piss away a load of ten pences on the fruit machines then?”

He sniffed, feigning ignorance as he glanced away, “No idea what you’re on about.”

Shaking my head, I found Em watching me with a smile of his own.

“So you ain’t gone deny pissin’ the bed then?” Marshall wondered out loud, chin coming to rest on the fist of his hand.

Startled, Danny’s head shot back round to the camera, he raised a finger at Marshall, “It’s slander, is what it is.” He told the man, “Always been jealous of me, she has. Me bein’ the fitter one of course.”

“Ha. Hilarious.” I deadpanned, but allowed a small smile to creep through when Em’s knee knocked into mine. “What you been up to anyway, arsehole?”

“Fuck me and all my shit, question still stands, Li.” Danny was hasty to retreat back to his previous ask, “How’d you two meet?”

Thankfully Em was the one to answer him. “I reached out.” He told him, gaze straying over towards me as he carried on, “Listened to her stuff for a while before I saw that video your sister posted online, figured it was a shot in the dark.”

“One which worked out,” I teased, before I shook my head over towards Danny, who appeared to be watching the pair of us with a dopey grin, “Acting as though I didn’t shit myself the second I found out it was him.”

Marshall snorted beside me, probably remembering the conversation, the way I’d stressed over sudocrem spots and my sound system, whilst he'd been perfectly content.

“Nah, I can imagine.” Danny laughed in ridicule, knowing how much of a fan I’d been growing up, “Failed to fuckin’ mention it though, din’t you?”

The way he’d levelled me with a look, which spoke more words than said, had me shifting somewhat sheepishly. “It was new!” I exclaimed, “Didn’t know how it would all work out. No one but Mila knows where I am, well Lotts too– sort of, I know she’d kill me if she knew knew.”

Smiling at that, Danny’s chuckles dimmed into a low titter before his eyes wandered back on over to Marshall, “Take good care of her for me, yeah? She acts tough but she’s soft as.”

I scoffed lightly, already prepping to roll my eyes when Marshall’s reply caught me a tad off guard. “I’ve realised.” He said gently, giving me a quirked smile when he caught me watching, “But no, she’s in good hands here. Me and my daughter are enjoying havin’ her here.”

My heart warmed at his words, the smile which overwhelmed my face too sappy even for my own liking. I made a vague sniff, pressing further into the man’s side as I hung my head to hide my reaction. Em didn’t falter, in fact he pressed closer too.

“Good to hear it.” Danny’s voice came through before there was a rather loud crash on the other side of the call, one which had Danny’s head shooting up, his eyes widening a fraction before a rowdy figure flew into him, knocking my brother sideways.

I shared a startled look with Em, completely confused, but noted the way Marshall backed away ever so at the new figure who’d come and intervened. A few more blokes fanned in and around the background, though those seemed to be preoccupied, not even paying Danny and his fellow soldier anymind, as though it was all normal.

“Er?” I heard myself say and it was after Danny had managed to shove the man off him with a breathless laugh, attempting to right himself once more, that I caught sight of the slight amusement which shone in Marshall’s eyes.

“Fuckin’ lump, I told you to stop doin’ that.” My brother exclaimed, and where I’d expected him to sound a bit miffed by the sudden attack, I was surprised to hear real affection there.

“But, my darlin’, I missed ya!” Came a bright Irish lilt just as a plethora of fawn coloured curls spilled over the bunk’s bedsheets before following his body back up into a standard sitting position. His grin was overwhelmingly white and almost large enough to hide his green eyes from view.

There was a bit more roughhousing as Danny shoved his army mate away when the kid started making kissy faces at him. “Piss off, you twat. I’m on the phone.”

It was that which had the other lad pausing in his messing, his head rolling over to the left where he found Dan’s phone, as well as me, I supposed. I waved, still a little surprised by the whole ordeal. “Hiya?”

“Fuck me.” The Irish man murmured lowly, eyes wide enough for me to see just how light his green eyes actually were, before he shuffled forward to flash a charming grin my way, “Aye, you’re lovely, have we met before? You look awfully familiar, mhuirnín.”

I had zero idea how to answer that, though I wasn't confused enough not to recognise the sweet name he’d used for me there. “Uh.”

“Leave it out, Lynch.” Danny huffed, swatting the other soldier who was still geared up in his tactical vest. “That’s my sister, you dickhead.”

“Wha?” Was the reply Danny received, before his mate turned back to the camera with another endearing grin, “I’m Tadhg, darlin’.” He introduced, name sounding more like Taig. “But I swear I weren’t lyin’ when I reckoned ye looked familiar. We din’t mess ‘round behind a Spoons on me last leave, did we?”

His brash words and assumption startled a loud laugh out of me, one which had Em’s brow furrowing slightly and Danny’s face falling into a scowl. “No we did not, you little shit.” I said, my head shaking at the cheek of it even as he continued grinning cheekily.

“Lynch, I’m warnin’ you.” Came my brother’s low mutter as he yanked his mate back away from the camera, Tadhg didn’t seem to mind the manhandling much.

“I’m just introducin’ meself, Danny boy!”

“Well don’t, she’s taken.” Danny retorted, confusing me a tad, yet I didn’t deny it, rolling my eyes at my brother's obvious displeasure.

My stare wandered over to Em, who was fiddling with his thumbs, he looked up at me as though sensing my gaze, I smiled. The gesture grew when it was returned.

“El. El– aye, Lia!” Dan’s voice rang through, I snapped my attention back towards him but it was almost as though he hadn't expected his shout to draw in one of the lot behind him–

“Oh shit, is that Elia?”

It was sheer impulse, the way my head turned towards Marshall at the unexpectedness of hearing my name. Em seemed to sense my sudden dismay because he was plastered back to my side in a second, arm coming to wrap around my waist. The touch settled the anxious response that had been drilled into me and I was a tad bit thankful for the fact that he was only portionally in the frame when I looked back to my brother.

A third guy seemed to have joined our Facetime call, his eyes as dark as his braided hair and caught on me from where he’d come to kneel on the bunk behind both Danny and Tadhg. “Shit, it is!” His voice was layered in a thick Mancunian accent, one which reminded me of a friend I had back home, “How’d you know Elia, pal?”

“Elia?” Tadhg wondered, eyes flitting across my face before a sheen of recognition settled in there, “Fuck, I just asked Elia if we shagged behind a Spoons.”

“You did what?” The Manc spluttered slightly, his eyes alarmed.

I bit my tongue to keep from chuckling at that, but Em had no such qualms, apparently having picked up on a bit of slang whilst he’d been in the UK, that or just having been ‘round me far too long.

“Idiots.” Danny sighed, giving Tadhg one last final shove before he let his shoulders drop and glanced over at me, “Sorry, El. I wouldn’t have called if I’dve known this lot would come bargin’ in.”

“You’re alright.” I told Danny genuinely, I’d take any sort of interruption if it meant I got to talk to him for a little while. “It’s nice to meet your mates though, you lads doin’ alright over there?”

“All good, Els.” Danny assured me, but it was short lived because Tadhg was turning to grace the third soldier with a perplexed look.

“How’d you know who she was anyway, Sully?”

Sully, the dark eyed lad with the Manc accent, shrugged as he looked back down at his friend, “Mate, she’s been like my crush for years. Had a poster of her on me wall when I were back home.”

My eyebrows raised at the admission (I mean how old was this kid? Fresh out of school?) and it was then that Marshall chose that exact moment to clear his throat. I shot him a knowing look, one which he returned with a rueful smile.

The three lads turned to us at that exact moment, Tadhg laughing at the sudden sheepishness Sully’s smile took on, whilst Danny just heaved another prolonged sigh.

“Fuck, that’s well awkward.” Sully noted, only furthering said awkwardness.

Marshall looked over to me, that smile still as present as ever, “Didn’t know you had posters.”

“Me neither.” I snorted quietly in return, leaning into him until our moment was cut short.

“What the fuck, Danny!”

Both Marshall and I’s head spun around to see what had happened, only to realise that it had been us. We were what had happened.

“What the fuck, man?” Tadhg said after a long moment had passed. Too long.

I cringed a tad, expecting to have Marshall move away now that he’d been spotted too, having leaned too far into the camera’s view when his head had ducked down to join mine. But he didn’t, move that is. Didn’t shy away at all. In fact, he nodded to the duo in a small hello. “Sup.”

Tadhg and Sully’s eyes were boring into us now, utterly stunned, which would have been funny if it wasn’t for the shock of it all. Danny sat off to one side with his face buried in his hands before he slowly lifted his head, showing off an all too apologetic smile.

I waved him away before he could open his massive gob to say something as stupid as sorry, it wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t like we’d really discussed anything, about his army friends knowing who I was and certainly not about them meeting Marshall, who Danny himself had only just realised was said ‘mystery man’.

“Alright, clear out.” Danny ended up saying instead, shooing his pals off his bunk.

Seemed that the pair weren’t all that easily led though. “Oi, whaddya mean? Let us meet the famous people!” Tadhg hassled, shoving back on the hand Danny was trying to push him away with.

“Yeah, man! I mean, fuckin’ hell, Eminem was the last person I figured I’d be meetin’ today, lads.” Sully added as he rocked further into the little space that sat between Tadhg and Danny, elbows coming up to rest on either man’s shoulder.

“He’ll be the last person you’ll ever meet if you two don’t piss off.” Danny huffed, swatting Sully’s hand off.

“Ooo, tetchy!” Sully laughed, prodding Danny further by deeming it alright to hang over his shoulder instead now, Tadhg’s face being squished against his torso. “Heya, mate! Your last album? Fuckin’ fire, fella!”

Surprisingly, Em seemed to snort at the kid’s words and had since settled into the fact that he was now wholeheartedly a part of this conversation. “Appreciate it, man.”

I watched on as Sully continued to rant about all the emotions he’d felt whilst listening to the LP and was warmed by the way Marshall answered each of his and Tadhg’s questions with a genuine acknowledgement, delving when and where he could. Danny appeared to watch it all too, observing how his mates fawned over Marshall and even me at times, though Tadhg’s, I figured, was more down to the fact that he was a massive flirt, having picked up on him even trying his luck with Marshall, much to the man’s obliviousness.

A while must have passed before Danny finally cut in, giving Marshall a small reprieve, “Alright, as enlightening as this has been,” He mentioned, eyes flitting over to Tadhg, who simply winked at him in return, “I wanna talk to my sister for a bit.”

“Awh, mate! We’re soldiers, this is like our make a wish or summat!” Tadhg almost whined, Sully and Danny snorting at his huffy behaviour as though it was typical, but the pair did eventually make a move to leave, Sully giving us a big thumbs up and a toothy grin whilst Tadhg shot us a joint wink. “Here if you ever need a rebound!”

Danny kicked his arse with the side of his boot as the man dipped out of view, though we heard the hearty laugh that followed in the Irish boy’s wake. He was shaking his head ever so when he glanced back at Em and I, “Sorry ‘bout them. Army life makes meetin’ normal people that more exciting, you know?”

I huffed a quiet chuckle whilst Marshall gifted Danny an easy but tired grin, he rapped the counter as he pushed to stand back to his full height. “I’ma go check on Z,” He mentioned to me before turning back to face Danny again, “Was good meetin’ you, man. Have to do this again sometime, for real.”

Knowing my brother like I did, I could see the slight ripple of surprise that echoed through his reaction to that statement, but on the surface he just dropped his chin and gave Em a sporting grin in turn. “‘Course, mate. Lookin’ forward to it.”

Just before he could slip away, Marshall lingered a second longer, hand squeezing my waist where it had failed to fall away in all the time we’d spent speaking and his smile widening just a fraction for me to see. “I’ll come find you in a bit.” I promised, he dipped his head and I listened as he padded out of the kitchen and over to the stairs.

Danny was the one to break the quiet we settled into. “He’s nice.”

I peered back at him to find him wearing a genuine smile, not a trace of animosity to be found in his voice. My grin was small, an attempt to hide the fondness I knew he’d find there. “Yeah, he is.”

Shaking his head around a knowing smile, Danny took his phone into his hand, “I was so right about there being a mystery man.”

Scoffing at the words, I cut my eyes at him but still looked back over my shoulder to make sure that Em hadn’t heard, even though it was impossible that he had, he was upstairs with Z.

“Shut up, idiot.” I told him, slipping over to the backdoor and into the cool air the garden offered. I’d only been out there the once but it was just as lovely as the house’s front driveway, though a lot larger. “It isn’t like that.”

Danny hummed, unconvinced. “Sure it ain’t. Remember though, I know you.”

“And what’s that meant to mean?”

He laughed giddily in reply, “You’re smitten!”

“Fuck off.” I huffed, looking away.

He wasn’t having any of it though. “You fuckin’ are! Know it too.” He continued to chuckle, all smuglike, “Deny it all you want if that’s what makes you happy though.”

I rolled my eyes, “It really isn’t like that, Dan. He’s– well, he’s him.”

“You’ve always been a right idiot, you know that?” Danny fired back, voice a little heated though his sigh told me that he wasn’t willing to expand on his statement, “What you been up to anyway? Seen his Porsche yet or is that reserved for red carpets?”

“You’re such a prat.”

Danny grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

Blowing out a breath, I resolved to let the argument go. “It’s been good here, nice. It’s so different from London. I mean, I’ve seen so much already. Even had a fuckin’ rap battle with this friend of Em’s.”

Danny looked like he didn’t believe me.

“I swear it, Dan!” I laughed in defence, pressing my knuckles into my mouth to keep from being too loud.

“Come off it, you?” He asked, though there was a slight note of awe there.

“Me.” I retorted with a great big old smile, “It was so surreal, like I don’t know how it even happened.”

Danny started chuckling and he shook his head at me in utter disbelief, “Only you, I swear. Wish I could’ve been there.”

“Me too.”

A wave of quiet passed between us.

“I’m glad you’re havin’ a good time.” Danny finally murmured, looking at me with those eyes that so often reminded me of Lotts, of Mum. “If anyone deserves a bit of happiness, it’s you.”

My eyes flickered between his, a tad bit teary after hearing that, and so I sniffed and looked away in hopes to cover it up. “Hush up.”

Danny’s chuckles resonated even through the phone, bouncing around me and filling my chest with a sense of nostalgia. “Okay, only if you let me know when it happens.”

Brow furrowing, I looked to him with a question, “When what happens?”

All I received was a gentle smile, “You’ll know.”

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daisygirlwrites · 2 years

Text

First Look (König x fem! Reader)

Summary: The 141 Task Force team up with KorTac for a huge operation. A certain Sargent and Austrian catch each others' eye.

Warnings: None

Paring(s): König x fem! Reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader (Platonic) , John "Soap" Mactavish x Reader (Platonic), slight! ghostsoap (if you really squint)

Word Count: 1,930

Note: No use of (Y/N), use of (L/N)

a/n: hey hey! i'm so excited for you all to read this! also, if it seems "unfinished" it kind of is! it was getting a little long and i decided to make the next one kind of a standalone, but you can consider this "part 1". anyways, thank you so much for reading and i would love to hear any feedback!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @imalovernotahater , @cutiecusp , @neon-lights-27

gif credit: @bloodlst

It was going to be a long assignment. Multiple missions under one huge operation; rescuing government officials and journalists, all spread out in different locations. Some of those who were higher profiled already had ransoms, so finding them wasn’t so difficult. But for the rest, that was a different story. And with how time sensitive this mission was, the higher ups from NATO thought it would be best to get other companies involved. The 141 Task Force wasn’t too keen on working with another PMC, considering the last time it happened, the whole thing ended up in flames. But since it was direct orders by NATO themselves, they aired their grievances amongst each other.

You weren’t there for the first introductions with the KorTac team, helping out Laswell for a bit instead. However, you did manage to sneak into the meeting room undetected, stepping in place besides Ghost. You watched your captain and another man with a nice beard talk quietly to each other, laptop open in front of them. The rest of your team file in, as well as KorTac’s. You took a quick look at each member but it was the last person that caught your eye.

König developed a six sense of knowing he was being looked at. It started during his last year of grade school and stuck with him since. And right now, he can feel a set of eyes on him, but he couldn’t figure out who. Leaning against the back wall of the meeting room, he takes a scan of his surroundings. Horangi, Hutch and Roze are sitting in front of him, looking at files while Aksel stands with Task Force 141’s captain, both hunching over a laptop. To his left side, towards the front of the room, there are two men in a conversation. One had a mohawk and talked in a heavy Scottish accent while the other was sporting a baseball cap, listening on. Then there was Ghost. The one person he’d actively avoid making eye contact with. Hearing the stories and meeting the man himself were very different experiences.

The Austrian was sure it was him. However, he failed to notice the short figure next to the lieutenant, though to be fair, you are five foot four. And with the all black outfit that you had, save for the red tinted ballistic goggles, it was like you were Ghost’s shadow.

On the other hand though, you noticed him immediately, watching the man having to duck under the door. Even when he was trying to blend into his surroundings, his tall frame made him stand out. You didn’t mean to stare for so long but every time you tear your gaze from him, like a magnet, it’d come right back. It was frustrating, feeling like a high schooler again but you kept looking at him.

Ghost glanced down at you, noticing your eyes fixating on something. Or someone, he thinks to himself as he follows your eye line, which is on the tallest person in the room. His gaze shifts back to you and then to König, repeating a couple more times just to make sure that you were clearly checking him out. Slightly leaning down, enough for you to hear him whisper, “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Snapping out of your trance, you glared up to your lieutenant. Even with the skull balaclava covering his features, there was no doubt he was sporting a shit eating grin. Without a second of hesitation, you jam your elbow, hitting the area below his ribs. This, of course, has little effect on the man and honestly, made him amused instead of annoyed.

This interaction didn’t go unnoticed to König, now realizing that there was another person in the room. With how close you were standing together and the almost matching outfit with Ghost, it dawned on König that you were the Sargent that he hasn’t been introduced to. He’s heard about you as well, people saying that you were another legend in the making by being mentored by Ghost himself. However, he didn’t anticipate how small you were compared to the others.

He also thought you’re very brave. Or insane, König hasn’t made up his mind yet. To elbow a superior was out of the question. To do that to someone like Ghost was a death sentence in his book and yet, König watched him do nothing.

His train of thought were interrupted when the door slams open. “Let’s get this started,” Laswell announces as she walks in. He look back towards you, just in time to see you whip your head to the front of the room, your braid hitting Ghost's arm in the process.

You paid attention during the briefing but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being stared at. It was probably Ghost, though when you flick you eyes up at him, he was focused on the screen in front. That means it was the tall guy that you were shamelessly checking out earlier. Karma came back to bite your ass.

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

And it did once more! After the brief was done, Price asked if anyone had questions. Ghost looked at you, and you swore you saw a glint of mischief before he turns back at the captain. "Price, I want the big guy with Crash and I."

Price raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t question it, giving the lieutenant a nod before dismissing everyone to gear up. You basically had to jog to catch up to Ghost, harshly whispering to him, “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He doesn’t take a glance at you but he does respond with, “Did you hear that he took down twelve AQ soldiers by himself?” Your jaw falls upon hearing this yet you don’t say anything and shake your head no in response instead.

“I have my reason for things, Rook, not just to mess with you. Remember that,” he takes a glance at you, bringing his hand up on your head, giving it a small pat before he leaves.

It didn't take you long to gear up. Stepping outside, the only noise you heard was the plane starting up. No one else was there yet and honestly, you preferred some quiet time. The calm before the storm. You give yourself another pat down, making sure you had everything you needed and adjusting the straps on your vest.

Being lost in thought, you almost missed the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning your head, you expected to see your skeleton partner, but you were met with a sniper hood instead.

“Oh! Um, hello,” you gave him a small wave. Oh lord, why are you so awkward, you’re a grown woman for goodness sake, you curse to yourself. Glad you had your mask on, your cheeks were on fire. And he was much taller up close, having to crane your neck up to make eye contact with him. You noticed that he doesn’t meet your eyes, shifting every so often. Arms behind his back, he rocks on the heel of his boots.

After a couple seconds of this, he pauses and gives you a nod. “You must be Sargent (L/N), it’s good to finally meet you,” König held out his hand, which you took, giving him a firm handshake. He tries to ignore how small your hand feels. “Everyone calls me König.”

“Call me Crash then.”

“Crash? That’s an interesting name.” “König is too. What are you the king of?” This made the Austrian blush and more intrigued by you.

“You know German?” “Just enough to order a drink,” you answered him honestly. You were feeling bold, heart beating fast, the next words tumbling out quicker than your brain could process, “Maybe I can buy you one if the mission goes well.” You’re screaming at yourself at this point. Flirting with the new guy?! That was against your rules. Oh god, Ghost is gonna roast you when he finds out about this.

Before König could respond, a certain Scotsman smacks the back of your vest, startling you. “Did I hear ya talkin ‘bout drinks? Count me in!” You shoot him a glare, trying to convey that he interrupted something but Soap ignores it, giving the tall man a wink.

Ghost was the next person to join the group outside, slightly confused on why you were trying to kill Soap with your stare, but he understands that Johnny is Johnny. He walks up to you, “You good there Rook?’

“Not to be dramatic, but I wanna die.” You answer him.

“Same here, you ain’t special.”

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

Ghost sat in-between you and König during the plane ride. You didn't know if you were jealous or thankful for that. Probably the later, especially with the what you consider one of the worst introductions you've experienced.

You didn't know anything about the man. Hell, you don't even know his real name and here you are, flirting without reason. Or maybe not, you did kind of expect him to be dark and brooding but your first official interaction, you notice how nervous he was. How he wouldn't look at you in the eye at first but even with the sniper hood covering his face, you saw a slight crinkle around his eyes, as if he were smiling. Never said a word before or during the meeting, however, when you spoke to him, you didn't think his voice would come out softly. His appearance and actions were a juxtaposition, and that drew you in more.

The stories he was told about you had one main thing; you were like Ghost. You had the skills, efficiency and that you were the protégée to the man himself. But they fail to mention how short you were or how confident you stand or how easy it is talking to you. The 141 Task Force gave him the same welcome along with the rest of his teammates, however, you surprise him in many ways. You said hello first and even knew some German. Did you flirt with him or were you just being nice? He kind of wish for the first option. What if she thinks you're too weird? How would she react when she sees my face? What if I'm not what she's expecting?

"Get ready, we're dropping in ten!" Price shouts over his shoulder. This causes the both of you to snap out of your thoughts. Those can wait, they have a job to do.

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

The mission went off without a hitch. Besides a few scratches here and there, the team managed to secure and rescue three government officials.

You've taken a few hard hits but it was nothing you couldn't manage. The rest of the team weren't in bad shape either. In fact, most of them were in a good mood, considering how well the mission went and there were no casualties.

Getting off the plane, Soap jogged up to you, telling you to change into your civies. "Gotta celebrate the new team and a successful operation, don't cha think, Lassie?" And with that, you watch him run in front of you, throwing his arm over your lieutenant's shoulders and hearing Ghost quietly tell him to "Fuck off." This caused you to giggle, taking in the happy moment, something rare in your line of work.

König was behind you, staring again. Listening to you giggle was like a breath of fresh air. How you manage to do such an content action after being in battle just an hour ago, it amazed him.

#daisygirlwrites #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #könig modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john price

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