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soelstress · 9 months ago

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Silent In the Library

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: While on a mission with Bucky, both of you get creative to avoid detection.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , explicit sex/smut, fingering , p in v sex , unprotected sex , sex in a library , some language

A/N 1 - This is my second submission for @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest. Thank you for doing this challenge, it's been fun playing around with the prompts.

A/N 2 - Prompts - Asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... of course I was given five so two stories it is 🙈 7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc) 14) Library sex for those dark academia vibes

A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - I think the photo was from the 'Fresh' Flaunt photoshoot but I saved it from Google

A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

Your limited sight in the dark night only heightened your other senses. Branches of the hedge dug into the skin of your back, scraping the exposed flesh. Warm pants tickled your ear. The smell of fresh greenery swirled with cologne, but the hand around your throat prevented you from inhaling. Your heart pounded and breaths became shorter, you couldn’t take much more.

“Come with me”.

You froze when he suddenly crumpled to the ground without a noise. Not daring to even breathe, your eyes darted around. A shift in the shadows caught your attention, moonlight softly reflecting off black and gold Vibranium to reveal the presence of your saviour. You took a deep breath in relief, the sudden rush of air triggering a coughing fit. “What took you so long?”

A scoff reached you long before the outline of your mission partner, barely visible in his dark attire. “Despite what Sam believes, I do not have ‘cyborg x-ray vision’. Took me awhile to dodge security AND find you. In a maze. That’s out of bounds. Couldn’t have made it any easier for me, could you?” He stopped near you, pausing as your coughing fit didn’t seem to be easing. “You ok?”

You raised your arms in an attempt to ease your spluttering. After a few moments, it slowed. “Unfortunately for you, yes”. You took a few slow breaths before turning to him. “Sorry for any extra paperwork, I’m sure you’d prefer that to having to deal with me”.

“I can handle paperwork. What I can’t handle is Sam complaining if something happens to you. I wanted to throw him off the plane because he grilled me for a bruise that you got. After our last mission. Tripping over thin air”. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the weight of his trademark scowl. Hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks from his words which unfortunately were true. “So can we please try to keep you in one piece to complete the mission and the journey home?”

Right. The mission. The one requiring you to break into the mansion of a former Hydra informant to retrieve a drive that contained information on old Hydra bases and activities. The one that Sam swore would be best to infiltrate on the night of a big party to avoid rousing suspicion. The one he insisted on pairing you and Bucky together. James Bucky Barnes - tonight’s savour, the reason you had previously tripped over thin air, and ultimately your unrequited crush. Part of you wanted to kill Sam who teased you mercilessly for your crush but the other part relished the chance to work closely with the sinfully sexy Super Soldier.

The pair of you had decided to attend the party separately, providing two opportunities to grab the drive, but also separate alibis if required. On arrival, you had started by trying to sneak upstairs to the library. But one lone security guard had thwarted your effort and then proceeded to follow you. In a desperate attempt you tried to escape him in the maze but he had cornered you. He had toyed with you, threatening to take you to the host when Bucky had stepped in.

A soft grunt interrupted your musings. Bucky had picked up the security guard and removed his phone. Walking a few strides to where two hedges met to form a corner, Bucky carefully launched the guard to land on top of the eight foot hedges so he was out of sight from anyone walking by. You couldn’t help chuckling at the sight. Together you both started to follow the path of the maze in a companionable silence. A few turns had been made and in the distance you could see pinpricks of light from the mansion. Bucky’s warm hand grabbed your wrist. “Someone’s coming” he murmured. You knew he’d be thinking about how to fight his way out as quietly as possible. But with one guard down already, you couldn’t risk attracting further attention. And only one of you had Super Soldier speed. An idea burst into your mind as you glanced around, seeing a small path in the hedge that led to a dead end after a few paces.

You turned and yanked him toward you. “What -“ his question was cut off when you pulled him into a fierce kiss. Bucky froze. You were certain he’d shorted circuited and that you would end up having to fight your way through. Pulling away, you made to turn and face the approaching threat but Bucky guided you backwards towards the small path. His left arm cushioned your back from the hedge, hand cupping the back of your head. His nose and lips drifted along your neck and collarbone, growling when your hands gripped the lapels of his jacket in an effort to pull him closer. Lost in a fog of desire, you felt your body trying to meld to his. His right hand gripped your waist, your leg starting to lift up to his waist in response when he froze again. “They’re gone”. Reality washed over you like a cold tidal wave, the heat of embarrassment soon fighting with the chill you’d felt a moment ago. Though you craved so badly to stay pressed to him, you knew that he didn’t feel the same as you. Besides which and most importantly, you had a job to do. Unclenching your fingers from his jacket, you tried to lower your leg discreetly and checked your appearance as a cover. Bucky unwound his arms from around you but didn’t step back. “What was that?”

Face burning, you sidestepped him with a shrug. “All your training and you don’t know how hard it is to run in heels, let alone fight”. As you walked, you could feel heat in your belly and slick pooling in your panties. Unbelievable. You’d acted like a horny teenager - sharing one kiss and then pressing against him as he held you. How the hell had you lost control like that? There were a few moments of your footsteps before you heard Bucky’s tread catch up. Tension was thick as you silently headed towards the mansion. Leaving the maze, you saw people making their way indoors.

You avoided looking at Bucky. “I’ll mingle”.

“I’ll hit the bar”.

Both of you separated at the bottom of the stairs, joining the crowds to drift inside. You began to work your way around the room, spending a few minutes in various conversations and contributing noises of agreement or amusement. It would be enough for the fellow guests to notice you in the moment but difficult to remember later while also giving you a good cover in case security was watching. After thirty minutes, you walked down the hallway that led to the ladies room on the next floor but also the main stairs that led to the library on the top floor.

“Sam’s gonna kill me, your back looks like you got in a fight with an alley cat”. The rough timbre rumbled in your ear.

Shrugging, you cautiously began to climb the stairs. “Some guys these days can’t manhandle a woman properly. It’s not the first time I’ve been roughed up”. Bucky fell silent as you moved towards the landing of the next floor. You hadn’t noticed the scratches on your back, Bucky must have effectively shielded your back when he pushed you into the hedge. You bit your lip to hold in a soft moan at the thought. From the way the way he’d handled you and the security guard in the maze, you knew that his version of roughing up would be very different.

“Hold up, doll. Security’s sweeping the stairs. Just lean over and wave like you’ve seen someone”. Doing as instructed, you leaned against the railing. Somehow your gaze landed on Bucky at the bar. A choked gasp escaped your mouth at the first clear sight of him. You knew he wore black from his camouflage trick in the maze. But this was something else. Dressed in a form fitting black suit with tousled hair and stubble dusting his cheeks, he had your heart and mind racing. “See something you like, toots?” Caught in a blue gaze, you blinked before waving. Bucky raised a crystal glass of amber liquid, the black jacket looking snug against his beefy arms and broad chest.

Taking that as a signal to start moving again, you quietly hurried back along the corridor. “Almost didn’t recognise you without that scowl Barnes. You actually look decent”.

A soft chuckle sounded through the comm, sounds of movement following. You figured Bucky had left the bar. “Well you clean up nicely too. Almost mistook you for a dame in that dress” he teased. As you crept up the final stairway, a mirror was placed opposite the steps and you took a moment to admire the dress you wore. A black velvet maxi dress that was strapless and had a slit up the left side hugged your body. Blushing slightly, you couldn’t help feeling pleased that he had noticed. Reaching the top of the stairs, you moved towards the correct door.

You glanced behind you before carefully opening the door to the library, slipping inside before you closed it and looked around. Two walls were lined with books, every floor to ceiling shelf filled carefully and pristinely kept. The door you had just walked through was also framed with shelves of books. A giant rustic stone fireplace dominated the fourth wall to your left, a roaring fire illuminating an abstract painting mounted above it. Chesterfield seats were scattered through out the room. A pleasant smell of old books and leather soothed your nerves and you found yourself relaxing. Approaching the fireplace to examine the painting closely, you were suddenly yanked backwards into the left corner of the room near the door. As you wriggled, you managed to elbow your assailant before being restrained. “Calm down toots! It’s me” Bucky grunted in your ear before letting you go.

“I thought men from the forties were gentlemen?” Grumbling, you turned and straightened your dress before looking at him to see him rubbing where you’d jabbed him. “Gotta say Barnes, grabbing a lady like that tarnishes your reputation as a charmer”.

Bucky smirked, his face half hidden in darkness. “Depends on your definition of lady, doll. Besides you’re the one who said about being poorly handled in the maze”. You flushed, earlier thoughts of him handling you resurfacing. “Anyway, come look at this”. He pointed towards the left side of the fireplace. On closer inspection you noticed that the fireplace was not built flush into the wall but instead the stone sides jutted a few feet into the room. Before you could ask if the old man needed his eyes checked, he gently took your elbow and led to you the right side of the fireplace. A little corner nook was formed where the fireplace wall met the bookshelf of the adjoining wall. Near the corner a bookshelf slightly wider than Bucky was built in. “There’s an electronic book safe a few shelves up”.

Glancing around, you saw a rolling ladder on a track. You made to move when Bucky beat you to wheeling it as close as possible, but there was a small gap between the shelf and the ladder. Frowning, you glanced at Bucky who nodded and moved to hold the ladder on one side. As you climbed carefully up the rungs, you heard him move to hold both sides to stop the ladder from rolling. Carefully opening the safe cover, you saw the electronic key pad with the spaces for a five digit number flashing. Looking at the buttons, you could see five buttons had been pressed more frequently than others. As the possibilities for the code ran through your head and you eliminated any as a birthday or memorable date, you thought about how the owner of this mansion had become involved, anything you could remember about his background - of course. You scoffed softly and entered the code. 4-9-3-7-2. The lock clicking open echoed in the quiet room. Shaking your head, you reached into the safe and pulled out a small drive the size of a quarter before sealing the safe and replacing the book cover. You began to descend the ladder, carefully feeling for each step before moving.

Reaching the last rung, you felt Bucky behind you. Inhaling deeply you slowly turned, using the rungs for support until you found yourself eye to eye with him. Without a word he took the drive from you and slipped it in his breast pocket. His flesh hand cupped your cheek. Blazing blue eyes searched your soul before his lips brushed over yours. Warmth rushed through every fibre of your body. As he pulled back slightly, you ached with want, with need. Lifting your right hand from the rung you caught his stubbled chin and pressed a kissed to the dimple before ghosting a kiss at each corner of his mouth. With a sharp inhale Bucky kissed you softly, almost reverently. He deliberately took his time, a sharp contrast to the fierce kiss in the maze. This was so much better than you had ever imagined, his lips firm and soft though roughened by the stubble peppering his face. You gasped when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking access to your mouth. Once granted his tongue carefully tasted and teased, licking along your teeth and sending shivers down your spine. His tongue brushed yours and you could taste the whiskey he had been nursing earlier. Your thighs pressed together at his luscious licks, imagining that wicked tongue somewhere else. The hand holding his chin moved to drift through his hair while the other arm wrapped around his thick frame. Chests pressed together your leg slowly slid up and wrapped around his waist, grinding against him as you captured and sensually suckled his tongue. With a groan Bucky lifted you off the ladder and held you close. Your other leg wrapped around him as you continue to rub against him.

Bucky’s lips moved to leave a wet trail on your face, neck and chest. His right hand moved down your dress and snuck in along the slit. Cerulean eyes widened when he found how wet you were for him.

“The maze” you whisper, answering his unasked question.

Nuzzling your neck, his fingers slid under the material and glided through your soaking folds. You bit back a moan when he brushed over your clit. One thick finger pushed inside you, causing you to arch into him. “Fuck… so tight, baby”. As he moaned in your ear, another finger entered you. His thumb brushed your clit as his fingers curled upward. “Squeezing me so tight… God you feel so good”. The only sound that you could hear was your panting and the sound of his fingers fucking you. A burning pressure began to build.

“Barnes” you whimpered, humping his hand frantically.

“That’s it sweet girl, cum for me”. Bucky’s smile widened as you clamped down on his fingers, his mouth swooping down over yours to catch any noise.

Using his Vibranium arm to lift you higher, Bucky’s flesh hand fumbled to undo the waistband of his trousers. The sound of a zipper opening reached your ears. Searching blindly your fingers grasped his hot velvet flesh and gently squeezed the tip.

“Been hard since I first saw you in this dress earlier today”. Your eyes widened at the understanding Bucky had wanted you before leaving for the mission. “I wanted to break the fingers of that asshole who dared to touch you”.

Longing flooded you at the dark threat. “Want you so much. Bucky… Please” you whimpered.

As he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds and over your clit his gaze burned into you, marking you. Lowering you slowly onto his cock, both of you groaned as the thick flesh stretched you deliciously. Once his groin met yours, you let out a small whine at being filled so deeply.

Before he could move the door to the room opened, chatter and light filling the quiet space. Bucky quietly pushed the ladder back toward its original position before pressing you against the fireplace wall, only the length of the fireplace wall and shadows caused by the fire hiding your presence from the newcomers. Bucky’s eyes never left yours but you could tell his attention was elsewhere. Annoyance swept through you at the second interruption of the night chased by desire. Right now, you didn’t care that your mission was to infiltrate the home of a Hydra agent to steal essential intelligence. Right now, all that mattered was that Bucky - the man who you’d wanted for so long - was here with you, inside you. These people could notice you at any moment, could catch Bucky balls deep inside you…

At the thought, your core clenched around him which caused Bucky to let out a muffled curse. His dark brow raised in silent query. You’d never felt so exposed, so reckless and you wanted him in it with you. Rocking your hips, you tried to start moving against him. Bucky’s hold on you tightened as he shifted. A whimper escaped you as he nudged your clit with his movements. His flesh hand covered your mouth, both of you straining to hear any hints that you had been detected. But the chatter carried on, ignorant to the raw exhibition only a few feet away.

Bucky placed a single finger against your lips in warning. You gently licked his finger before nipping the tip and sucking it into your mouth. Jaw dropping, he inhaled slowly before he began to move. Tongue swirling around the digit, your sucking matched the pace of his slow and steady thrusts. As his body temperature began to rise you were caught in a delightful concoction of senses - Bucky’s scent of sandalwood mixed with the smell of the library, drowning in the depths of his loving and lustful gaze, tasting the slight tang of your arousal on his finger and the feel of his body caging you as you clung tightly to Bucky, trying to pull him even closer. Cautiously he positioned you against the shelf, leaving you immobilised and unable to do anything except continue to take his measured movements. He began to roll his hips and pulled back before repeating the motion. As a wave of heat began to build, you could swear you felt his cock harden further. “Cum” he breathed in your ear. The dam broke and the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you. Feeling a cry rise in your throat you kissed Bucky desperately. With a gasp he twitched inside you, filling you as he rolled his hips to prolong the pleasure as long as possible.

Distantly, you heard the door open and close. Only the gentle crackling of the fire and soft panting filled the room now. Bucky lowered you till you stood on slightly wobbly legs and slowly pulled out of you. Removing a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully wiped between your legs before doing the same to himself. Eyes locked with yours, he tugged your underwear and dress back into place before tucking himself back into his pants, placing the folded handkerchief into his pants pocket. Leaning forward he caught your mouth in a soft tender kiss. “That should’ve been our first kiss” he murmured.

“So what happens now?” You hated to think that this had only happened because of the mission, that nothing had changed. When his fingers entwined with yours, you were surprised to see him smiling softly.

“Long term? I want to court you baby, for you to be my girl and me to be your guy. But now? We leave, head home and handover the drive”. A twinkle danced in his eye as his smile changed to a smirk. “And then I want to hear you all night. No interruptions. No being quiet.” His brow puckered in confusion when you giggled. “What?”

“Looks like we’ll both be giving Sam something to complain about”.

#smutty september fest 2024 #indulge with chuckles #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan characters

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softspiderling · 1 year ago

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illicit affairs - part three | r.c

summary:

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

OR; You and Rafe move in unfamiliar territory

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI! p in v, oral sex (female receiving)

word count: 2.4k

author's note: uhm.... this is basically just porn. yeah. also can't believe that the first time i post rafe smut is part of this series lmaoooo. happy reading, i hope you love it <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. three: "a dwindling mercurial high"

Pulling away for a second, Rafe tugged his shirt off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, before his hands were already back on you, helping you out of your top and letting it drop on the floor. Even though you just lost an item of clothing, you still felt so hot, and it didn’t help that Rafe’s eyes immediately zeroed in on your chest. But before either of you could get carried too far away, you stopped, heaving breaths.

“Wait.”

“What?” Rafe asked, fingers playing with the straps of your bra, eager to take it off.

“We’re not having sex on the couch.”

He sat back, as if just realizing you were still in the living room. “Right, shit. Sorry.”

Before you could ask what he was sorry for, he looped his arm around your waist, easily picking you up and if you weren’t already wet, your panties would be drenched by now. Your legs hooked around his side, as if you had done it a million times before, clinging to him as he carried you upstairs into his bedroom. Without much ado, he tossed you on the bed, and you yelped, glaring at him.

“Is this how you treat all the girls?”

Rafe grinned at you, kneeling on the bed and tugging your shorts and panties down in one go, thumb stroking your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” he promised, and before you could say anything, his face was already between your legs, tongue delving between your folds.

“Fuuuuck.”

Your hands dove into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he ate you out, the pad of his thumb pressing onto your bundle of nerves like there was no tomorrow. God, you really missed this, missed some good oral sex, because for some reason, your exes either refused to go down on you or were terrible at it. But Rafe? Rafe was excellent. And you weren’t surprised.

Lips parted, to let out small, breathy moans, which turned into a groan when Rafe slowly pushed a finger into you.

“Shit, give a girl a warning,” you gasped out, your hips arching from the bed, but Rafe pushed it back down easily with one hand, grinning up at you.

“I did. Told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asked, lazily pumping his finger in and out and if you weren’t rolling your eyes out of pleasure, you’d be rolling them out of annoyance. Beads of sweat were rolling down your temple as Rafe added a second finger, your toes curling as he added a third. It didn’t take long for you to feel the warm, familiar sensation of an orgasm building in your stomach and let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to look at you, eyebrow raised.

“I’m so close Rafe,” you whined, voice breathless.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me?”

“Just shut up and put your mouth to better use!” You huffed, pushing his head down towards your cunt. You could feel him chuckling against your skin, but he obeyed your orders anyways. He brought his mouth down, sucking on your clit, his fingers never stopped moving. You let out a gasp, feelings the knot uncoiling, so close.

“Yes, so close,” you moaned, hands dropping on the mattress, fingers curling around the bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed when your orgasm finally washed over you, Rafe’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“Fuck that was hot,” he muttered, licking his fingers clean like he just finished the meal of his life. You let your head fall back on the pillow, letting out a breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Did I wear you out already?” Rafe asked, leaning up to place a rather soft kiss on your lips. You huffed, kissing him back before pulling away, peeking an eye open at him.

“Don’t ruin it by opening your mouth.”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth quirked up, and he pushed your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you always this mean to guys you have sex with?” The way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up, despite the fact that he was just between your legs.

“No. Just you.”

Rafe opted against replying, only grinning, leaning up to reach behind your back to finally unclasp your bra, which you gladly let fall off your shoulders. He didn’t waste any time to put his mouth on one of your tits, his hand on the other, kneading it gently, his fingers rolling your nipple, while his tongue laved around the other, until it turned into a stiff peak.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to show me your tits,” he said, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your chest. You let out a breathy moan, giving him a look.

“Why the fuck would I have shown you my tits?”

“Why not?”

You pushed him on the forehead gently, so he’d fall back on his back, a crease forming on his forehead, and you could tell he was not done playing with your tits, but this was your turn. Now it was you who was getting between his legs, pulling his shorts down, hand immediately palming his erection through his boxers. “Can I blow you?”

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, Precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

Slowly, you tugged his boxers off, not quite sure what to expect. Your jaw did drop when you saw his cock sprang free, bouncing off his abdomen.

“Shit.”

You didn’t have to look at Rafe to know he had a shit eating grin on his face, he was your best friend after all. You knew him like the backside of your hand.

“Do you have a condom?”

“In the top drawer, can’t miss it,” Rafe said and you leaned over the bed to open the drawer. “The XXL ones.”

“Oh my god, literally shut up,” you groaned, fishing a red foiled packet out of the drawer, shutting it close again. Settling back between his legs, you were about to open the foil, when you noticed the look on his face.

“What?”

Rafe only shrugged, running a hand through his hair and you gave him a look.

“Rafe, what?”

“You’re gonna yell at me.”

You followed his eyesight to the condom, before you realized what he didn’t want to say. “You want to do it without a condom?”

He shrugged again.

“Rafe, you have sex with like ten girls a week.”

“Are you slut shaming me right now, Precious?” Rafe asked with a snort. “I never fuck anyone without a condom and you know I get tested regularly. And I trust you. You’re on the pill, right?”

You shifted on your knees, contemplating his suggestion. You usually had sex without condoms becuase you liked it better that way, but you were afraid that one less layer between you and Rafe would change even more between the two of you. And yes, you realized how stupid it sounded.

Rafe interpreted your silence as turning his suggestion down, wrapping his hand around your thigh. “’s fine. Let’s use a condom.”

“No, I’m good. I was just thinking,” you assured him, tossing the packaged condom on the drawer. “I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

You tried to ignore how concerned Rafe was looking and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Yes.”

“Shit okay,” Rafe groaned, bucking his lips a little. You gave his cock a few good pumps, anticipation building in you, before you crawled over him until you were hovering just over the tip. Rafe’s hands found their place on your waist and you felt him squeezing you as you slowly lowered yourself on his cock, the both of you moaning out.

“Fuck.”

You gave yourself a second to adjust, mostly due to his sheer size, but also because you felt like you had to take a second. This was Rafe. Your best friend. For some reason, you thought this had to feel weird, but all you could think about was how right it felt.

“You good?” Rafe asked, his voice tight.

You exhaled, nodding, before started to move up and down on his cock, movement fluid from your slick and his precum, your hands leaning on his chest.

“Shit, Precious.”

Your cheeks flamed, hearing the familiar nickname being used in such an unfamiliar setting with Rafe. Terrified that you were wearing your emotions on your face, you leaned further forward so he couldn’t see your face, while simultaneously giving yourself more space to move. Soon, the bedroom filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, coupled with both your and Rafe’s moans, as the two of you found your rhythm.

Rafe was right, the sex with him was amazing, because of the two of you just worked. He knew just the right moment to snap up his hips to hit the right spot as you rode him, knew how to guide your waist on his cock and when your hips started to stutter, Rafe didn’t hesitate to flip you over, laying you on your back.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you protested breathlessly, hair fanning around his pillow. Rafe scoffed, lining up his cock, sliding in, before he pounded into you, holding into the headboard as it kept banging against the wall. Gasping, your eyes rolled back, as Rafe kept fucking into you, your eyes fluttering open when you noticed him getting closer to you, his breath hot on your face as he panted.

“You were saying?”

“Shut up,” you moaned, pulling him down to kiss him, bringing his body closer, his movements never stopping. Slowly, you could feel another orgasm build up, your toes curling. It must have shown on your face, because Rafe pinched your nipple, his cock driving in and out of you.

“You close?”

Nodding, you let out a soft moan, arching your back a little, yearning for your orgasm, even though you had just cum not that long ago,

“M’too,” he groaned, his hips stuttering. He reached down, applying pressure in circular motions against your bud with his finger, keeping fucking into you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you whined, nails digging into his shoulders, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Rafe!”

“Can I?” he breathed out, his face contorting, and you only nodded, muttering a soft yes, before he finished inside of you, and when you felt his warm come spurt into, you reached your peak, your breath stuttering out as you came, body arching off of the mattress, before you slumped back down, exhausted. Carefully, Rafe pulled out, flopping down on the bed next to you, catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face, glancing over to you. “Wait, let me grab a towel.”

You didn’t even have any energy to protest as Rafe got up to pad to the bathroom. Your eyes were shut as you recovered from your orgasm, before realization suddenly hit you.

You just had sex with Rafe.

Your best friend, Rafe.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your hands all over your face. It wasn’t like you regretted it per se, you just wasn’t sure if this was the smartest move to do.

It didn’t take long for Rafe to return, having put on some boxers somewhere on the way to the bathroom. He knelt down on the bed, careful to wipe the cum off of you, and you winced when he brushed over your still sensitive cunt.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. And he wasn’t lying. His hands were gentle as they moved over your lower body, applying soft pressure with the wet cloth where it was needed to clean you off.

“Who knew you were so gentle with your sex partners,” you teased, leaning on your elbows to watch him. Rafe’s cheeks tinged pink and he tossed the dirty towel into the hamper after he was done.

“Shut up.”

He reached over to the side to hand you his shirt, and you pulled it over your head, glancing around, eyes squinted.

“Where did you toss my panties?”

“Uh…” Rafe looked around, before pausing, picking up your panties from the floor at the end of the bed. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you snorted, putting your panties back on, before you got off the bed. Rafe watched with careful eyes, scratching his head.

“You’re seriously not still going home, are you Precious?”

“Rafe,” you sighed, giving him a look. “I need to pee.”

“Right, sorry.”

You shook your head in amusement, before making your way to the bathroom, the nickname ringing in your head. As you did your business on the toilet - since you did not want to end up with an UTI - you wondered if you could get Rafe to stop calling you Precious during sex. It just felt weird, like a permanent reminder that you were still just his best friend.

With the difference that you were having sex now, that is.

Flushing the toilet, you went to the sink, washing your hands and frowned at your reflection in the mirror, before calling out his name.

“Hey, can you maybe not call me Precious while we’re fucking?”

He didn’t say anything and you weren’t sure if he fell asleep, so you tiptoed into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway when you saw him look at you with an odd look on his face, halfway tucked into bed.

“Why?”

You shrugged with your shoulders, feeling like he was staring you down, so you crawled under the blankets on the left side of the bed.

This? This felt like familiar territory. You had spent countless nights sleeping in the same bed as Rafe. But everything before that? Terribly unfamiliar.

“I don’t know, it’s weird.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure Precious,” he said, leaning over to the nightstand to shut the light off, basking you in darkness.

“Whatever you want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outer banks #obx

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wordsofelie · 5 months ago

Text

🔭mercury

part of my observatory event, requested by @liquidcatt <3

sugawara koushi x f!reader

summary: you always seem to run into sugawara koushi—your frustratingly charming, unfairly cute neighbour—at the worst times. (but maybe that’s for the best).

content warnings: time skip setting, manga spoilers, a bit of swearing, a lot of fluff

words count: 1.2k

You think the universe is against you.

One moment, you’re carrying a heavy box filled with newly delivered supplies for your office, the next, you’re tipping backwards and losing your balance. There’s a flurry of movement, a surprised gasp—not yours—and then you’re landing on something much softer than the cold, hard ground.

Or, rather, someone.

“Wow,” a voice hisses beneath you. “I wasn’t expecting to be crushed to death today, but I guess there are worse ways to die.”

Your brain short-circuits. Because under you—chest heaving, silver hair slightly tousled, brown eyes gleaming despite having just been nearly flattened—is none other than Sugawara Koushi.

Your neighbour.

The same one you keep running into at the most inconvenient times (when you’re out of toilet paper at the konbini, when you’re all sick with a red nose and dark circles under your eyes at the pharmacy, or when you’re dressed in your least cute pyjamas to pick up your takeout food in the lift). The same one who always greets you with a smile so bright it makes your mind dizzy. The same one who is currently lying beneath you on the ground, blinking up at you like he finds this entire thing oddly hilarious.

You scramble off him, mortified. “Oh my god-I’m so sorry-”

He sits up, rearranging his shirt, still grinning. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I always wanted to know what it felt like to be tackled by someone other than a ten-year-old.”

Right. The kids. Sugawara is a primary school teacher, which explains his infinite patience. And, apparently, his ability to bounce back from near-death experiences with nothing but a smile and a joke.

You shake your hands in panic. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m great,” he says, stretching his arms behind his head and getting up. “Although, I think this makes us even.”

“Even?”

He nods and grins even more. “For the time I nearly ran you over with my bike.”

You groan. “I told you that was my fault.”

“I still think about it at night,” he says. “The look of pure horror on your face…”

You roll your eyes, but your heart does something stupidly pleasant in your chest. He’s easy to talk to. Too easy.

“Well-um,” you play with your fingers. “I’ll go now.”

You turn to your door, your skin still warm from him. He’s about to leave as you start patting your pocket, then looking in your bag, and in your pocket again seeking your keys-

Your keys.

Your keys, which had been in your hand a few hours ago. Your fucking keys, which are now nowhere to be found.

“Oh no.” You look around the ground, then groan. “Oh no, no, no.”

Sugawara turns, facing you again, and tilts his head. “That’s a lot of ‘oh no’s. Should I be worried?”

“I left my keys inside the office,” you whine.

“That’s rough, buddy.”

“Is that how you talk to your students?”

He chuckles. “Sorry, sorry force of habit. Do you want me to go with you?”

You sigh. “No, it’s fine. My boss probably left by now. I’ll figure something out.”

He gives you a long and considering look before sighing. You know it’s not out of annoyance, but more out of sympathy.

His smile shifts slightly—no more teasing grin, but a soft, almost delicate smile. “You can stay at my place, at least until you – figure something out.”

You feel the heat rising in your neck. Somehow, it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

This is ridiculous. This is absurd.

But if you’re being completely rational, what else can you do? Wait outside (it’s mid-January)? Go to your boss’s place (you have no idea where he lives)?

“Sure,” your voice wavers a little and you clear your throat. “Thank you very much.”

He helps you lift the cardboard that was still on the ground and leads you to his place. Two doors away.

It’s warm inside—which doesn't surprise you. The house isn't as tidy and organised as you'd imagined. There are still unwashed dishes in the kitchen, piles of drawings on the table and coloured pens on the floor.

“Welcome.”

You say nothing back and just look around. He hands you a cup of steaming tea, you hadn't even heard him turn on the kettle.

“Sorry for the mess. I didn’t plan on inviting anyone over tonight.”

“And I didn’t plan on falling on you.”

“And I swear I didn’t plan on almost running you over with my bike last time," he says, sipping his tea. "Unless you find that romantic, in which case I can do it aga-”

“Finish that sentence, and I’m the one who’s gonna run over you.”

Sugawara laughs, bright and clear. “Seems like we always bump into each other in dangerous situations. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

“Oh yeah? And what is it saying?”

He grins. “That you should let me take you on a date.”

There’s electricity running through your whole body.

Sugawara Koushi—your frustratingly charming, unfairly cute neighbour—is asking you out.

“Wait. What? How does that have anything to do with us bumping into each other in dangerous situations?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, maybe that was just an excuse. I just wanted to take you on a date. I must sound so lame, right now.”

You stare at him. He looks nervous, you probably do too.

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, and run away and panic, you chuckle, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll go on a date with you. But only for safety measures.”

The man exhales sharply, as if he's been holding his breath for too long.

And then he smiles.

At this moment, you’re convinced Sugawara’s smile is more radiant than a thousand suns. He closes his eyes and you instantly miss their chocolate shade. Deep down, you think you’ll miss them even if he blinks.

“Great! How’s Saturday?”

“Saturday works.”

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

You’re about to say more but your phone rings in your pocket, you check it.

“It’s my boss, he has my keys, he’s waiting at the station.”

He takes the cup from your hand, your fingers brush. “Be careful then. And text me when you’re back home, I’ll bring your box.”

You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and thank him.

Once you’re outside you can’t stop smiling.

When you go to bed that night, you think the universe isn’t against you anymore.

Or maybe, just maybe, it had been working in your favour all along.

a/n: that was the first work for the event and i loooved writing for suga!! i should do it more often haha

i hope you enjoyed this story <3

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saiyanprincessswanie · 9 months ago

Text

Lovestruck

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 1026

Summary: Steve has been holding in his feelings for a while now and finally decides he is ready to express them.

Warnings: Soft smut, unprotected sex, kissing, hand job, oral (fem), Steve with a beard (yes it’s a warning), using “accidental I love you’s during sex & sleepy domestic sex prompts.”

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

A/N 3: This is for @mercurial-chuckles for their Smutty September Fest.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. It has been stolen if you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Steve was usually up at the break of dawn to get his morning run done. He decides to stay in bed this morning as he holds your naked form close to his chest. Your soft snores fill his ears as he lightly chuckles to himself. His hand caresses your arm as he takes in your soft scent of vanilla and lilac. The scent soothes him as he relaxes in bed with you, contemplating how to express his new emotion, love. He has known for months that he loves you but has never expressed it because he was afraid it was too soon in your relationship. When was the right time to express it? As you try to cuddle closer he determines that today would be it.

He moves his head to the side and kisses your forehead gently. You let out a soft whine and start to stir from your sleep. Your hand lightly drags across his stomach causing him to groan from his cock growing hard. Only your gentle touch could make him feel this turned on and needy for more. His lips kiss you again and he feels you start to stretch your limbs. Your right hand disappears under the blankets and softly strokes his length. Your lips kiss his chest as your hand strokes Steve up and down, drawing out his quiet groans.

“Good morning, Steve,” you sleepily whisper as you slowly stroke his cock the way he likes.

“Mor-morning love. Fuck, don’t stop.” Steve lets out a deep groan as your hand tightens around him as you work his cock faster.

Steve’s hand moves to your breasts and lightly rolls your nipple between his fingers. You end up gasping out from the pleasure it brings you. He is trying his best to focus on you and not what that hand of yours is doing. If you keep stroking him the way you are, Steve knows he will cum before he even gets started. He gently rolls you to your back, your hand letting go of him, while he moves down your body kissing his way to where your pussy is. He softly pushes your legs apart and licks a stripe up your pussy then tenderly kisses your clit. You try to close your thighs around his head but his hands keep you wide open. Steve starts to eat you like a man starved. His tongue dives between your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit and all you can do is moan while he takes you apart.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair as you feel his beard giving you the best burn while he takes you higher and higher. The knot in your stomach starts to form as you moan his name over and over again until finally, you fall off that ledge. Your arousal soaks his beard and all he can do is groan against you. Steve finally slows down as you start to twitch from being overstimulated. He makes his way back up your body, licking your arousal from his face. Steve situates himself between your legs as you stare up at him sleepily. He leans down and kisses your lips, his tongue and yours caressing one another in a dance for dominance. Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock rubs against your wet pussy. Together you grind against one another until finally Steve’s tip catches on your entrance. Pulling slightly back from the kiss Steve smiles down at you.

“God, I love you, sweetheart. With all my heart and everything that I am. There’s no one else I want to spend my life with.”

Your eyes shine bright up at his blue ones. Did you hear him right in your sleepy state? Did he just confess his love?

“Did you just say you loved me?” You asked.

He smiles down at you. “I did. I know it took some time but I mean it. I’m so in love with you, sweetheart.”

Your lips crashed against his again as tears welled up in your eyes. “I love you too, Stevie. Make love to me.”

With your answer, Steve pushes his cock into your wet pussy. The feel of his long, thick cock stretching you always takes your breath away. As he bottoms out you moan his name. Pulling his hips back to retreat to just the tip he gives you a hard thrust. Together you both make love to one another. Every thrust, every roll of your hips has you both groaning into the heavens above. There was no rush, just two bodies becoming one in the moment.

Steve kisses your neck and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear.

Your fingers scratch down his back as he finds that special spot inside you. It nearly has you choking on a gasp and Steve knows you are close by your walls clenching around his manhood.

“I love you too, Stevie,” you gasp out your reply.

Steve speeds up his thrusts, skin starting to slap against skin, as he pounds into you. You can do nothing but hold on to him, your heels digging into his back as he takes you apart again. The knot forming in your stomach instantly breaks like a dam and you cum hard for him. Thrusting faster into you Steve chases his end and cums deep inside you.

You both lay all tangled up together in bed and chuckle.

“I can’t believe you said you loved me finally during sex Steve.”

He blushes at you, trying to hide his face in your neck. “I meant what I said. I love you so much that I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night telling you how much I love you.”

“I want that too Steve. How about we get cleaned up and make breakfast.”

“I would love that sweetheart. But first I’m going to take you in the shower again. I want to hear how much you love me while I take you apart.”

You squealed in delight as Steve chased you into the shower. It would be an amazing day now that you know how he felt.

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#saiyanprincessswanie #missy writes #smutty september fest 2024 #indulge with chuckles #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers drabble #lovestruck

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 1 month ago

Text

aww, don’t cry my love! the first half is angsty but i promise you, the fluff will fluff! honestly, i wasn’t going to start it there, but i feel like this will totally pay off when we come full circle (i hope lol).

i love you so very much, and there is no pressure or rush to read <3 thank you for being a part of my cheer squad, i appreciate the hell out of you!! 💖

BLOSSOM & BLOOM (1/12).

PAIRING — steve rogers x florist f!reader

CONTENTS — fake dating; fluff; mild angst; mild language; some spoilers for thor: love and thunder??; tw: mentions of minor character death and funerals; non-linear storytelling; and a friendly reminder that this story is not at all canon compliant.

CHAPTER SUMMARY — On the anniversary of the day you met, bonds of friendship are strengthened in the fires of romantic adversity.

WORD COUNT — 5.3k

NOTES — i honestly wasn’t gonna post this yet, but i feel like it’s been so long since i posted the masterlist and i was also stressing over how many rewrites this chapter has undergone. so, i’m posting to prevent myself from overthinking this any further. i hope you enjoy; it’s also better if you don’t look up the redacted flower meanings bc i will reveal them later <3

✩ series masterlist ✩ library blog

[1/12] The Proposal: ↳ an Avengers Tower gathering.

BLOSSOM & BLOOM, Rooftop Greenhouse E 40th St / Lexington Ave — present day

Everything feels like a hollow version of itself tonight.

No matter what kind of day you’d been having, the greenhouse is where you go to unwind, to lift your spirits. The flowers around you seem to droop, however, mirroring your mood as you push around a half-melted pint of Ben & Jerry’s in its carton.

Strawberry cheesecake, non-dairy—because if your dumb, lactose intolerant ass is going to finish the entire thing anyway, you’d rather not add gastrointestinal distress to your growing list of problems.

You sit among the lush greenery, the stars blinking lazily at you in the inky black sky beyond the glass walls of your personal conservatory, but you pay little attention.

Notifications ping your phone, lying face down on a workbench that’s littered with incomplete bouquets and a few other lone blossoms. You don’t bother flipping it over, don’t have the courage to check whether it’s from one of them.

Instead, every so often you put down the ice cream to pick up some stray lily or solitary rose, trying to bundle them together into something presentable. Nothing turns out the way you want, and so you ultimately give up.

You try to summon the enthusiasm, grasping the handles of your gardening shears and moving the delicate, fern-like foliage of a nearby aquilegia plant out of the way so you can snip off the finished flowers.

It does little to cheer you up this time, the spent blossoms falling onto the table, all shrivelled up like your heart.

“So stupid,” you whisper, not really sure whether you mean yourself or someone else. In reality though, you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.

The abandoned flowers sit accusingly before you, and you know you should care more. About the plants, the shop, the emails containing special orders for all sort of special occasions—all the things that used to bring you joy, enough that you made it your life’s work.

But you’ve spent your entire life trying to make everybody else happy, surely you were allowed to take just a few hours in the night for yourself?

Violet is at your parents’ house in Chelsea, your shop is closed for the day, and there are no more personal events in your calendar to worry about. You might not get a chance like this again.

So, you stare up into the sky and try not to think about all the reasons why the things you used to love are making you miserable now. Maybe they remind you that caring hurts, and lord knows you’ve had enough of that to last a while.

Still, your heart rewinds, showing you memories of all those staged dates. With hindsight, it was such a terrible idea, because you already loved him then.

But at the time? It was so tempting, so deliciously sweet, because you already loved him then.

You let yourself remember that very first night, sitting next to him on a bar stool in the party room at the Avengers Tower. You turned in the seat just enough so that your knees were knocking against his, bodies angled towards each other.

Even now, you can’t get it out of your head. The way he smiled, contagious. The way his eyes crinkled so warmly at the corners, devastating.

Your own laughter felt real and genuine in a way you hadn’t done in the longest time, and looking back, maybe that was the point when you stopped being able to tell where the pretending ended and the truth began.

Your time together began to blend. Holding hands because someone from the team might be watching, and then not letting go because—well, you couldn't speak for him, but you didn’t want to.

Murmured sweet nothings exaggerated for an audience of spies and superheroes turned into long, serious talks about nothing… and then about everything.

What seemed so straightforward at first became a maze of feelings you thought you’d been prepared to navigate, but your traitorous heart constantly turned corners you weren’t expecting.

You think of how you’ve actually fallen asleep playing his voice in your head, replaying moments that should have felt hollow and empty—but because he was the one with you, they didn’t.

And then it all came crashing down. You had known it would, quite spectacularly in fact, but you didn’t think it would happen like this.

You’d stood among the pews next to him in that church, watching as friends and loved ones paid their respects to the late Jane Foster, wondering what kind of fraud you were.

“I’m grateful you’re here, my friends,” Thor had given you a small smile, his eyes shining with sadness, your throat threatening to close up when his large hand landed heavy and warm on your shoulder, “I cannot tell you what it means.”

You remember Wanda, her expression a portrait of loss and sorrow even as Vision stood so close, their shoulders bumped. You knew who she was thinking about, a brother lost in battle. She’d confided in you about Pietro before, especially after you shared that you’d lost a brother of your own.

Tony shushed a fussy newborn Morgan, rocking her in his arms as Pepper rummaged through her purse for a packet of tissues, her eyes red and her nose running. He then handed you the tiny little bundle of joy, the baby nestling comfortably in the crook of your elbow, as Tony turned to help his wife.

Bruce was in the front row next to Thor when he returned from greeting guests, shoulders hunched and his hands clasped together in his lap like he didn’t know what to do or say. Bruce was a quiet man, but every now and then he reached out to pat his friend on the back, as though he remembered a conversation he had with you about showing affection if he couldn’t speak it.

Natasha and Yelena reached for each other, their hands coming together in the row in front of you. The sisters leaned against one another, their eyes downcast as Dr. Foster’s casket was covered in white flowers and carried out of the church. As they turned to watch the procession, their eyes met yours and they smiled. They reached for you with their free hands, and you met them halfway, your fingers trembling.

And the reality of the charade began to sink in.

You’d forgotten what it was like, having friends. Good ones. After your brother and sister-in-law passed, devastating your family and fracturing it seemingly beyond repair, your priorities shifted dramatically.

The shop used to be number one, and then your pitiful personal life. But now you’ve adopted your brother’s orphaned child, who needs you more than ever, even if parenthood was never a choice you would’ve made before everything changed.

As a result, your social life (and your love life, for that matter) fell to the wayside. Your parents, although you knew they meant well, kept insisting that you couldn’t do this alone.

Maybe it would be better if your niece went to live with them instead, they’d suggested. Or at least, it would assuage their fears if you’d just settled down with someone.

You acknowledged that being a single parent would be hard, but there must have been a reason your brother, with whom you weren’t particularly close, decided to leave Violet in your care. Your mom and dad weren’t necessarily bad parents, but they weren’t always the most nurturing or supportive.

Did you want that for Violet? After all, your parents didn’t seem to understand that what you needed wasn’t a spouse or unsolicited opinions about what you could or couldn’t do.

What you need is for them to see your grief, to acknowledge that you are trying, and to tell you that is enough.

And the Avengers, who started out as Steve’s friends, had eventually become yours too. When did it become so easy to visit the Tower for a chat with any one of them, so reassuring to see all those familiar faces at whatever event Steve led you into, and so instinctual to pick up the phone at any given time when you were bored and needed someone to talk to?

Unlike your family, they never judged—well, maybe a tiny bit—but they nevertheless welcomed you into their little group like you were always a part of them. Never mind that there was nothing particularly super about you, a civilian who just so happened to cross paths with them years ago.

All you did was grow flowers, but somehow they made it feel like you might as well be sprouting magic from your fingertips.

The initial lie began so innocently, but it threatens to choke you now. The more you got to know them, the more they accepted you, the more your discomfort grew.

You were being surrounded by sincerity, and it only served to make your own deception seem more glaring and cruel by the minute.

And so you ran.

Steve had reached for you, because of course he would. You remember the tug of his hand when you tried to pull away, the warmth of his grasp not matching the cold truth you were always too afraid to face: the two of you were never really together, no matter how real it might have felt.

You close your eyes, trying to shut out the replay of events but the images persist. That final day, him watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite read as you retreated.

“I don’t know how to be what you need anymore,” you’d said, holding back tears because you had no right to cry. You were the one bailing on him, after all. Steve hadn’t done anything wrong.

Was that anger you saw in his face? No, not anger. Hurt? Disappointment? You wish you knew. You wish you could have stayed.

Will you ever see him again?

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly and trying to squeeze out the doubt that’s settled there like an unwelcome guest. You did the right thing, you tell yourself, even if it doesn’t feel like it—even if it feels like it might shred your heart to pieces.

Even so, your fingers itch to send him a message. Just one. Something to make sure he’s okay… or maybe you just want to make sure you haven’t been erased—some assurance that, even though the relationship wasn’t real, not all of it was a total sham.

Eventually, it gets so late that even inside the greenhouse gets a little chilly. You have to get up early to pick up Violet from your parents’ house in Chelsea, and then prepare yourself for the inevitable verbal smack-down waiting for you there when they realize you and Steve have “broken up”.

With a sigh, you gather the now empty ice cream carton, along with the trimmings and loose petals you picked off the flower stems earlier. You begin heading down the six flights of stairs, past your second floor apartment, and back into the shop to throw away the trash.

Blossom & Bloom is dark and still, the sign of the door flipped over to announce that you’re closed, but a flash of movement outside catches your attention. You freeze, watching as a tall shadow drifts across the front window, checking the time to see it’s well past midnight. Who on earth would come by now?

The shadow crosses again, deliberate, not the random movement of a passerby. Your stomach flips as the motion sensor lights above the door flick on, revealing a familiar silhouette framed by the light of a nearby street lamp.

It can’t be him, standing there looking like he’s just stepped off a vintage war poster. It’s too soon. And it’s also too late.

Nonetheless, you’re propelled towards the door by a mixture of fear and longing. He raises a hand as if to knock, only stopping when he sees you through the glass. Slowly, you unlock and open the door.

“It’s late,” you murmur, even though those are a far cry from the words you’ve longed to tell him. Still, you keep your tone firm and even, as if you weren’t just drowning your sorrows in the most cliched way possible.

You hide partially behind the door, as though it might protect you from… you don’t know what. Steve would never do anything to hurt you, not knowingly anyway.

And you’re not his “girlfriend” anymore—you never were, you correct mentally—so then why is he looking at you like that?

“You’ve been trying to tell me something,” Steve says, sounding slightly out of breath. He doesn't seem angry, hurt, or disappointed at all. In fact, he looks almost… happy.

Your face heats as you turn away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying,” he breathes, like he’s still catching his breath, sounding suspiciously like he ran all the way here from the Tower. “Your heart rate just sped up.”

“What?” You whirl around with wide eyes, incredulous. “Well, stop listening!”

“No,” he grins, cheeky, as though the last two weeks of silence haven’t happened. Like you didn’t run out of Dr. Foster’s funeral and left him high and dry, no doubt fumbling for explanations to his very confused team.

You look straight up into his eyes, searching for signs that this might be an illusion, a delusion, but all you can see is true blue.

It’s such a rarity in your world, the one of flowers, but even though you know this well, you find yourself searching for signs of it ever since you met him. Signs of Steve—reassuring, steadfast, and more beautiful than anything that’s ever bloomed between these walls.

More than the tiny, almost microscopic petals of the brunnera plants that blossom just after winter’s final frost. More than the dreamy delphinium spires that sway in the humid breeze at the height of summer. More than the lobelia hummingbird havens that grow in full splendour during the spring and fall.

Those cerulean orbs soften the longer you hesitate. Despite how you’d left things, Steve smiles so kindly, so gently, it makes you ache.

Hope. Sweet, treacherous hope swells in your chest, because he takes another step forward. He gathers your hands in his, impossibly slow, characteristically tender, and closes the gap just enough to press his forehead to yours.

You swallow a gasp and close your eyes, afraid he’ll see right through you, that he might find the love you’ve been too scared to speak but have been written all over your face all this time.

“I… I can’t…”

And because it’s Steve, he makes it all better with just a few choice words: “What if I promise to say it back?”

Your eyes snap open, and that little seedling—the one that had been planted between you the day you met all those years ago, the one that had been biding its time, just waiting for the perfect conditions before it could sprout—suddenly chooses that moment to spring out of the earth and bloom in full colour.

Steve seems to sense the change. He takes a breath.

And you, a leap of faith.

❀ Aquilegia┆columbine┆lion’s herb SYMBOLIZES: courage.

THE AVENGERS TOWER, Party Hall 200 Park Ave, NY — May 4, 20XX

Steve normally looks forward to a quiet night with the team.

It’s nice just being with friends, the responsibilities of his shield forgotten upstairs in his room, and to put down the weight of the world that rests on his shoulders—albeit temporarily.

Lately, however, he’s been going around with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He pauses before turning corners now, carefully poking his head out first to check if the coast is clear, avoiding the members of his team like they’re the plague.

Because Romanoff seems to have a never ending list of people she thinks he should ask out on a date, Tony will not stop mentioning some former client from his time at Stark Industries, and Sam keeps going on about a girl from the VA who’d be “perfect” for him.

And unfortunately, Steve seems to be running out of excuses now that the ones he’s already given them—he’s not ready; Avenging is a full-time job; or, honestly, dating is just the last thing on his mind right now—don’t seem to be good enough anymore.

If their Captain wouldn’t go out and get a damn life, then they’d get one for him.

Steve takes a deep, stabilizing breath before stepping into the party hall, dreading all the dodging he’s going to have to do tonight. If only they’d focus that energy into keeping the Tower neat and organized, he’d have a much easier time.

Well, at least the place looks nice at the moment.

Because Tony never misses an opportunity to throw a party (and spend some hard earned dough), the Tower is decorated to the nines. There’s a champagne tower in the corner, a full spread of hors d’oeuvres laid out on tables lined with cloths that probably cost more than the average rent, and the floors are so shiny Steve can see his own reflection in the tiles.

The opulence of the room makes it hard to believe that just a handful of years ago, Loki and his alien army had nearly destroyed the city. There are no signs of that destruction now, even though at the time the damage had seemed so insurmountable.

Blossom & Bloom, the flower shop just a few blocks away, is looking brand new as well. The cartoonish Steve-shaped holes in the wall and broken glass window have long since been repaired and perfectly replaced—once again courtesy of Tony’s more than sizable bank account.

It just goes to show how far one can go, and how quickly, with the right amount of green. And he’s not talking about the Hulk.

Although, maybe the Hulk too. Tony has definitely threatened to release the big guy if contractors didn’t cooperate.

Speaking of the flower shop, Steve sighs with relief when he sees you by the refreshment table. He bypasses the team, giving them a casual wave as he approaches your side, the only person in the room who won’t give him a hard time for being, as Sam likes to put it, “single as fuck”.

“Jesus,” he breathes when he’s finally in the safe zone, “did Tony leave any flowers for the rest of New York?”

“I think he plans to buy them all eventually,” you laugh, piling food high onto your plate, while Steve nods at the abundant bouquets scattered around the room. “Though, I’m definitely not going to complain about the business.”

“Sorry, that’s not what I mean. They’re nice,” Steve says, leaning over to admire the brilliant red-orange blossoms that bleed into a bright yellow at their centres. They smell faintly of liquorice, perfectly arranged among clusters of glossy green leaves. “What are they?”

“Rosa foetida,” you pronounce in Latin with a flourish of your hand, the fork you’re holding almost stabbing him in the eye. God, you are such a nerd, and yet Steve can’t help but smile. “The Austrian copper rose. Aren’t they stunning?”

Steve doesn’t say anything back, just plucks a mini quiche off your plate and shoves it nervously into his mouth. You look up when you get silence in return, rolling your eyes when you see him engaged in a staring contest, the usual battle of wits, with Natasha and Sam.

Poor guy. Doesn’t he know he doesn’t stand a chance?

“Still avoiding the others, then?” You ask, and he mutters back something unintelligent with his mouth full. “You know, the solution is very simple, Rogers.”

“An’ wha’s that?” Steve mumbles, somehow managing not to spray you with crumbs in the process.

“Get yourself a girlfriend,” you say matter-of-factly, and you hear him scoff. “Sorry, or a boyfriend. I don’t actually know what you’re into.”

“Like it’s that simple,” he says after he swallows.

”Okay, first, I want it noted for the record that you didn’t deny the boyfriend thing,” you grin triumphantly and he rolls his eyes, signalling for the bartender and quietly ordering a glass of whiskey for himself and a Diet Coke for you.

The life he leads isn’t an easy one, even before he spent the better part of a century frozen at the bottom of the ocean—before the war, even.

A frail, sickly boy spending most of his nights in bed, battling scarlet fever or painful stomach ulcers, didn’t exactly scream relationship material. People rarely even looked at him back then, and when they did, it was almost always platonic… or simply because they wanted to impress his best friend.

And then seventy years later, a hyper focused super soldier with little else on his mind but the next mission, the next global threat, or the next existential crisis that would always take precedence over date night or meeting the parents, didn’t sound much better either.

“And second, when you look like that,” you gesture to his entire body with a pair of mini tongs, smirking when Steve averts his eyes shyly, his cheeks reddening, “it kind of is that simple.”

Fine, he will admit it, the effects of the serum certainly gets him noticed. As inexperienced as he is, Steve isn’t completely oblivious. He has no problem turning heads now, you’re right, and he’d be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t enjoy some of the attention.

Still, anyone of substance, any person he could ever see himself really falling for, would want more than he would ever dare to offer.

“And you’re sweet or whatever, I guess that’s always a bonus,” you add teasingly before taking a big gulp of your soda. “Anyone with half a brain would jump at the chance to date you, so what’s the problem?”

The problem is, he can’t promise he won’t ever need to leave at the drop of a hat. He can’t even promise that he’ll always have the chance to call or get in touch first, or that he would come back from every single mission safe and sound.

“Just doesn’t seem fair, is all,” Steve shrugs after explaining, “especially not to someone I’m supposed to care about.”

“Wow,” you smile at him and Steve bristles. Not because he’s uncomfortable, per se, but because there’s something different about that smile in particular.

Every now and then, you get this strange look on your face, something unfathomable and unreadable, missing all the usual playfulness and slight sarcasm. The most preposterous idea pops into his head sometimes, that maybe you only ever wear that look around him.

But just as quickly as it happens, the moment is over and you revert back to your usual self, “you’re such a sap.”

“Shut up,” Steve rolls his eyes again, knowing how much you enjoy poking fun, so he doesn’t take the comment personally. “So, how’d it go with your parents?”

“Ugh,” you wince, the memory evidently not so pleasant, “don’t remind me.”

“They’re still giving you a hard time, huh?” Steve asks as the both of you head over to the bar to sit, you awkwardly balancing your mountain of food as you go.

“Evidently, Violet needs a father,” you scoff, changing your voice to mimic who he assumes is your mother. You shake your head before speaking normally again, “never mind how often I try to remind them she already has one.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve frowns, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass. You don’t talk about your late brother very often and he doesn’t ask, knowing it’s a bit of a sore subject. By now, he’s heard more than a handful of times that your parents keep insisting you find someone to settle down with, even though you’ve made it perfectly clear that’s not a priority.

“It’s whatever,” you shrug, casually dismissing the matter with a wave of your hand. Steve can tell that isn’t the case, judging from the way you heave the biggest sigh, your food untouched for now, “it’s fine.”

“I think you’re doing great,” Steve says, and he’s not just saying it. Not everyone is capable of stepping up the way you did, adopting your orphaned niece and deciding to raise her on your own. “Violet’s a good kid, and she’s lucky to have you.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your annoyance melting away to be replaced with a small, affectionate smile, “I’m the lucky one, though.”

“How come you didn’t just bring her along?” Steve asks, already missing ten-year-old Violet’s youthful enthusiasm and charm, even if she does occasionally make him feel like a recently-excavated dinosaur.

“It’s apparently uncool to be hanging out with her aunt now,” you joke, although he can see the slight twinge of angst in your eyes, “besides, she lost all interest in attending when I told her Thor wouldn’t be here.”

“Hurtful,” he jokes, pretending to sulk into his glass. You pat his shoulder in a placating gesture, and when he looks up he sees the rest of the Avengers huddled together. He’s sure they’re scheming right now, coming up with all sorts of ways to get him out of the Tower and lure him into an unsuspecting date.

He doesn’t know why it came to him right then, but the idea hits him like a freight train. The rational part of his brain tells him to shut the hell up, because it’s a terrible idea and you’d probably smack him for even suggesting it.

The other side, the seldom seen irrational Steve—although, was it particularly rational to lie his way into the army, take an experimental super serum, punch his way through WWII, and then crash land a plane into the Arctic?— is blurting it before he can stop himself.

Because if his friends are going to scheme anyway, why not play at their game and scheme right back?

“You could do it,” he says. “Be my girlfriend.”

Your fork pauses in mid-air above your plate, and you look at him like he’s just sprouted a second head.

“Not like that,” he rushes to explain. Your features twist into one of mock offence, and he quickly backpedals, “No, that’s not what I mean—listen, you’re great, I just—hear me out, okay?”

All he needs is a date to a handful of special occasions dotting his calendar over the next few months, just long enough to convince his well-intentioned but annoying as hell friends that he is, in fact, doing just fine in the dating department.

And it somewhat makes sense! Because you and him have been friends for ages now—how many years has it been?—and Steve wouldn’t decide to date just anybody at this point. He does spend a lot of time at your shop, with Violet, and it’s not strange for any one of them to see you around the Tower making a delivery or stopping by for a visit.

When the time comes, the two of you would “break up” amicably and go back to being just friends—no harm, no foul. He would feign just enough disappointment that the team would be too sympathetic, too sorry to see you go, that they would hopefully stop pestering him about his love life for the foreseeable future.

If nothing else, it would buy him at least a few months of peace, and god knows he could use some of that.

“What do you think?” Steve asks, hopeful. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, looking even more puzzled.

“I think you’ve gone crazy, Steven,” you mutter, while he tuts and bats your hand away, “did you get hit in the head on your last mission?”

“Think about it, it’s a win-win for both of us,” and even though you’re still hesitant, Steve can see the wheels starting to spin in your head. “You help me get these jackasses off my back—”

“Steve—” you admonish.

“—and I’ll help you ward off your parents for a little bit,” he continues, undeterred. And the plus side? Steve does genuinely enjoy your company, even if you can be such a smartass sometimes.

He recalls the day you met, during the Battle of New York, and maybe it wasn’t exactly one for the storybooks, but the both of you have come such a long way since then.

Most importantly, you deserve better than having to rush into a relationship with some random guy you’d meet on a dating app—which is the direction you’re headed if your parents have anything to say about it.

And because you’re friends now, and because Steve knows you’re much sweeter and more agreeable when you aren’t faced with the mortal peril of an alien invasion, your shoulders are already slumping in resignation. You wouldn’t turn him away in his hour of need, he knows, not when he’s come to you so many times to vent about his nosy teammates.

“Just for a few months?” You ask slowly, already starting to come around, just as tempted by the idea of silence. And your parents wouldn’t have anything to complain about if you’re dating Captain America.

Well, maybe his dangerous job, but you take some, you lose some.

“That’s it,” he promises.

“And we don’t involve Violet in this,” you point a finger at him and he’s already nodding. Lying to his friends is one thing, but lying to your niece is a whole other. He wouldn’t ever ask that of you anyway. “As far as she’ll ever know, we’re just friends.”

“Of course, we’ll come up with something,” he readily agrees, because of all people, his team knows how complicated the superhero dating life can be, even without kids involved.

Steve prepared to shake your hand to seal the deal, but stops short just in case anyone’s watching.

“Might as well start selling it, Cap,” you say with a sigh, grabbing his hand anyway and lacing your fingers between his, much more intimately than he’d intended. You lift your fork with your other hand, feeding him a bite from your plate.

Steve has no choice but to open his mouth and accept the stuffed mushroom, feeling warm all of a sudden even though he’s not wearing a jacket and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. It’s made worse when he hears the surprised squawks of his friends from across the room.

“Hang on a minute.” Surprisingly, Bruce is the one who starts.

“Hey, what the hell?” Tony mutters, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“When did that happen?” Sam demands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh my god, is that why he’s always at the flower shop?” Pepper watches with wide eyes, lowering her champagne flute with interest.

“So, he was working up the guts to ask her out this entire time?” Clint snickers, and even though it’s not true, Steve blushes like it is.

The only one who’s silent is Natasha, her eyes seeming to glow despite the dim lighting. Steve is determined not to look at her, lest he gives himself away. He keeps his eyes squarely on you, trying to stay centred.

“My god, we really need to work on your poker face,” you tell him, throwing your head back and laughing at the sight of his pink cheeks. “Is this how you always react to holding hands?”

“Shut up,” he manages between a tightly clenched jaw, his blood rushing all the way up to the tips of his ears. You continue giggling into your plate of food before Steve finally gives in to your infectious laughter, a small smile tugging at his own lips.

It will be fine, he tells himself. This is you, after all, his best and only friend outside the Avengers; your friendship is strong enough to survive whatever comes at you. Besides, he’ll do his absolute damnedest to make sure you, and Violet for that matter, emerge from this unscathed.

That’s right, he repeats as he silently promises to protect you, whether it’s from aliens, his friends, or even himself.

Nothing could possibly go wrong.

❀ Rosa foetida┆Austrian copper rose SYMBOLIZES: friendship; █████████.

to be continued.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers, and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

#reblogging hours #blossom & bloom #steve rogers x f!reader #mercurial-chuckles <3 #grace 🩵

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foodiegoogie · 4 days ago

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no one else, only you

lily evans x fem!reader | 2.75k

summary: you're a hundred percent gay for your best friend, lily evans. but you're also living in the 1980's—in conservative london, england, no less. where could pride fit in that? cw/tags: angst w/ fluff undertones, coming out scene, internalized homophobia, freddie mercury reference (may he rip 🤍) if i missed anything else, plz let me know! tnx <3 note: this one's for all my lesbian/gaylicious/bisexy/closeted girlies out there <3 you are so loved and seen by people like me. happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈

based off of annabelle by annika bennett ₊˚⊹♡

It’s a wonder, isn’t it? How one person could share their life with another person for as long as they both live—or, at least, ‘til death do they part, anyway.

You’d argue that it wouldn’t be a wonder to think about that, no. You’d tell people with that mindset to get their heads out of the clouds, and face the facts: ‘til death do you part, so what’s the point? In a society with so many rules, standards, and reputations to uphold, how does one even come to life-altering decisions such as marriage? It feels… impossible.

Impossible, well—for you, it would seem. For others, like most of your friends, it’s annoyingly possible. James Potter is a rake, if the line of girls appearing in his flat on a nightly basis is to tell that. Sirius Black could get away with being straight with his looks, but you know him better than that. Remus Lupin is… private, but not secretive when it comes to your friend group. And Peter Pettigrew… Well, bless his soul, the boy tries his best.

Lily Evans, though? You couldn’t quite pinpoint what her deal is; and that’s saying a lot, considering how close the two of you are.

So, what exactly is her deal… with you?

Especially now, while you and Lily are sharing a bottle of wine in the warm ambience of her kitchen. You came over with this elaborate plan of how you could finally get over yourself and confess your feelings. But Lily—bless her heart—was so happy to see you, that things had started to take a little detour from your initial plan of action.

“—then I said, ‘No, Marls, don’t do it!’” Lily chuckles as she combs her fingers through her hair, ridding it of tangled knots.

“But then she—” The redhead chuckles again, interrupting herself before continuing, “she actually—”

“Does it?” You finish for her with a smile, sensing familiar butterflies in your stomach whenever you’re looking at Lily.

“Yeah!” She giggles, it’s music to your ears, and nearly spills her wine as she wobbles on her feet.

You think it’s a grand opportunity, considering how she’s only had at least half of the wine in her glass. Still sober enough to be serious for an important conversation, and still tipsy enough to forget said conversation the day after.

“Anyway,” Lily starts again, sobering herself up despite the flush in her cheeks, “moving forward—”

“Hey, Lils—”

You lunge as she nearly trips over herself while literally moving forward, catching her by the arms. You give her a squeeze to help ground herself, trying not to think about the warmth between your skinship.

As soon as Lily registers your hands gripping her steady, she frowns at them.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked.

How hypocritical of you, Evans, you thought to yourself.

“Oh, I’m quite dandy right now, actually. It’s you that’s not okay,” You tell her with gentle sarcasm in your voice. With an arm around her shoulders and a hand in the crook of her elbow, you guide her towards the living room.

Eventually, you make it to the worn brown couch that looks cozier than ever in the warm lighting of the lamp, standing in the corner. You make sure Lily makes a soft landing on the cushions, giving her a throw pillow when she barely reaches for one, before you sit right down beside her.

It’s a couch that fits four people, at most. But you’d think two people were sitting on either side of the couch while you and Lily sat tight and cozy in the middle. You can’t stop thinking about the warmth she’s radiating since you got here.

You don’t realize you’re watching Lily with a weighted, concerned gaze until she’s smiling at you again, all amused and whimsical-looking.

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

You sigh in fond exasperation, joining her in her lax position as you lean back on the couch.

“What look, Lils?”

She frowns and forms that adorable knot between her brows. “You know—that look!”

“I can’t really know that look if I can’t see myself doing it now, can I?”

“Oh… you’re right. Sorry.”

She sounds truly crestfallen when the word slips out of her mouth, and you feel achy about it. Heartache-y. Perhaps you should get a move on with ‘the plan.’

“S’alright, Lils. No biggie.”

But Lily’s still tipsy. You can tell that by how slowly she’s blinking, how her lips are pouted, and how she’s staring off into the distance like there’s something to be found there.

Neither of you talk after a while. The silence, though, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more than that. It feels charged. Heavy. Pregnant.

The silence feels like it’s… waiting for itself to be broken—and Lily beats you to it.

“I really am glad you’re here, you know,” She opens up, voice a bit deeper and words a lot clearer than before. Still staring off into the distance but, nonetheless, you know she’s really starting to sober up now.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she continues.

There’s really no other way to go about it—that one’s totally your fault. What with an existential crisis about yourself, your country, your actual and romantic feelings for Lily, and so on—you had to step away from it all, if not completely, then at least for a while.

That had completely slipped out of your mind for a long, long while.

You chuckle slightly, albeit a little sheepish. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a while either.”

Then, silence. A few seconds pass because you let them, and it feels like you should speak next. So, you start with a deep breath, “I—”

“—missed you.”

It’s barely heard, but you can’t miss it. Not when Lily’s right beside you when she says it. Her breath brushes your ear, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your breath hitches because it was exactly what you were going to say.

“I missed you,” Lily repeats herself, almost like her prior statement was just a slip of the tongue. Something that was just pure instinct, and not fully thought through. “Still miss you, actually.”

She sighs, forlorn, then shifts on her spot to face you completely like she’s about to drop something big and important.

But you take the risk before you lose the chance to say what you’ve been meaning to say since you came over.

“I have to tell you something,” You blurt out as Lily takes a sharp breath. She blinks, then nods for you to continue. With a deep breath, you do. “I…”

How do you start coming out to your best friend?

How do you say ‘I miss you’ in a non-homosexual way to the girl you’re totally homosexual for? Just to prepare Lily for the eventual truth bomb, of course.

You think Lily catches the gulp you take and the fidgeting you do with your fingers, because she prompts, “You what, Y/N?” in that soft, sweet voice of hers.

You don’t even know why you’re so scared. This is the Lily Evans—kind-hearted to a fault, and the personified antonym of judgmental. She’s fearless for herself, and for her friends. Most of all, you know that she loves you. That goes without saying, yes. But you’re not sure it’s in the way that your heart has always wanted since the day you met her.

“I—” You exhale, trying to get over your ridiculous thoughts. “I missed you, too.”

Lily sighs like it’s a relief that you told her that. “Was that so hard to tell me? Here I was, expecting something else to come out of your mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what, then?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t have to be specific, really. Maybe something that goes like ‘I just found out that my great gran disowned me?’”

A chuckle bubbles up unexpectedly from your throat, and Lily joins you in your amusement. The tense air disperses for a while as you share the laughter, but then you let out a small, happy sigh.

“Seriously, though. I do need to tell you something. Not just—” You shake your head, “not just ‘I miss you.’”

“Okay, er—” Lily straightens her posture, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “—go ahead. Tell me.”

“Right, so…” You take another deep breath because this is the moment: the make-or-break moment of your friendship with Lily. “...you know how there’s been rumours about Freddie Mercury going around? About his… health and—sexuality…?”

“Yeah, heard about it on the news,” The redhead replied. “What about them?”

“Well… you see…” You turn your head down, picking at your fingernails. “I’m kind of going through the same thing?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily coos, arms instantly coming round you, squeezing you tight. You return her embrace with equal, grateful measure. It was a hug you probably needed. “I’m sorry you’re going through that. I had no idea.”

You think the conversation’s getting off on a good note, so far. So, you continue, chuckling sheepishly. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy to say or go through, not exactly.

“But… that’s not all that there is, really.”

“Oh? Then what else is there to say?”

“I don’t have rumors going ‘round about me. Not like Freddie Mercury,” A weak attempt at lightening up the situation, but you coax a small smile out of Lily. “But the sexuality bit… that one’s true.”

There’s silence after that. You’re waiting and watching for Lily’s reaction. Anything that would signal you to back out of this conversation altogether or continue. But she’s just as serious as she was earlier when the topic about Freddie Mercury opened in the first place. You take it as a sign to go on.

Besides, you’ve come here with a clear objective, right? The worst that could happen was… your potential rejection, and the possibility that Lily might find you repulsive after and kick you out of her flat.

You decide to take that risk with the thought that we, human beings, only live once. If you couldn’t confess to Lily now, then when will you ever?

“The truth is, Lils, I’m saying all this because…” You give out a small huff of courage. “I like girls.”

Expecting silence to take over again, you get brave to glance at Lily, who’s now smiling at you with so much pride, it feels just slightly overwhelming.

“Y/N,” She starts, taking your hands in both of hers, thumbs sweeping over your knuckles. “I’m really glad you decided to tell me this, I—”

“I like you, too.”

Lily freezes upon hearing you say that, so you’re frozen, too. Perhaps it was because of the way she took your hands and held it in hers, so warm and welcoming. Not an ounce of roughness despite the rough texture of her hard-working hands. Not a hint of carelessness despite the gentle manner she holds your hands with.

“I meant to say—” You sigh, frustrated with yourself for being so unclear. “I like girls, and I like you, Lils. As… as more than just my best friend. So much more than that.”

It comes as a surprise to you that she’s still holding your hands despite the truth bomb you’d just dropped on her all of a sudden. But, if anything, you’re grateful that she hasn’t found you so repulsive to flinch away from you. Well, not yet at least.

“Is that…” Lily finally speaks, sounding slightly out of breath. You’re hoping it’s not because she’s about to cry and disown you as her friend. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” You answer with a reluctant smile, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry, so you rush to say, “I know that might throw you off, Lils, but it’s been true for so long that I—”

Lily thumbs away the tear slipping down your cheek—the tear you didn’t even realize was there in the first place. That action alone prompts a sob out of you. Whether that was a sob of relief, forgiveness for yourself, or fear, however—you couldn’t decide.

“It’s okay,” She whispers to you, tucking a hair strand behind your ear. Her hand lingers near your cheek. “Just breathe, yeah? Breathe, darling.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting more tears rain down on your face. Lily frees her hands to press them against your cheeks, grounding you with pressure alone. She guides you through one, two, three deep breaths, until the last exhale finally eases your nerves and rapid heartbeat.

“M’sorry, sorry…” You sniffle, shaking your head as your hands rise to pry Lily’s off of your face, already more than grateful for her kindness, but she just presses them closer (if that was even possible).

“No, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright?” There’s more hair falling around your face, so she tucks the strands behind both your ears. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

“No, you don’t understand,” You rush to say, trying to sober up as you blink rapidly. “I’m— I’m not normal—”

“And who is, these days, anyway?” Lily stresses, “Listen to me, alright? Listen to me very carefully, because I know how stubborn you are, especially when you’re trying to get the last word in. Okay?”

“Okay,” You murmur weakly.

“The world isn’t kind to anyone, we both know that,” Her hands leave your face—your flushed cheeks contrasting against the sudden cold. But then she holds your hands tightly as she says, “But I am, and we both know that, don’t we?”

You nod your head in reply.

Lily nods back, satisfied with your response. “So, all I can tell you now is thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this, and for being honest with me. I accept—”

You’re crying again before she gets to go through with her sentence, but it doesn’t faze Lily in the slightest. In fact, she tilts your head back up with a finger, and wipes away your tears. When your sobs get quiet and shoulders stop shaking, she continues.

“I accept who you are—that never really changed since high school, Y/N. Even when I wasn’t aware of this about you. Really, I— it’s more than that, actually. I feel…” Horrified? Disgusted? Fascinated like I’m some alien or species of some kind—

“...I feel the same way about you.”

You must be so out of it already that you might have misheard Lily telling you that she feels the same way about you. Internally, you curse your mind for playing cruel tricks on your senses.

But you still feel the warmth of her hands pressed to your cheeks, the fabric of her dress brushing against your knees, the weight of this entire moment— it’s all still so present, and so vivid, they couldn’t possibly be just a figment of your imagination.

“You do?” You ask her.

Lily nods, smiling in that bedazzling way she always does. Her eyes are all watery now, too. “I do, yeah. I really, really do.”

A wet chuckle slips past your lips, and this time around, you initiate the skinship— leaning forth to press your forehead against hers, closing your eyes.

“That’s a relief,” You whisper with a smile. “There was no one else, Lils. Just you. Only you.”

You hear Lily sigh, then, her breath brushing against your lips. The tips of your noses bump into each other. It all feels like the right moment to get rid of the space between you and finally learn how it feels like to kiss a girl— your dream girl since high school.

But neither of you closes the space nor asks for it to happen. You just sit there— enjoying each other’s company, and the relief that you both don’t feel the need to hide behind ‘just friends’ anymore.

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saturneras · 2 months ago

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Private Eyes IV

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It is the station's annual open house. Naturally everyone is eager to have a good time and raise some money for our girls and boys in blue. Even the mayor is making his way down to join for the afternoon auction. So when Lori asks you to help out, you, the good sport that you are, don't hesitate to pitch in. You're sure the chief won't mind. Especially since him and you have been on such good terms since Tommy's BBQ. What could possibly change that?

Note: Jesus has resurrected and so have I. You waited, so now you shall receive.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

"Really, it is just one afternoon, nothing extravagant. Just coffee," Lori says and her nervous gaze tries to focus on your face. It has been a hectic day to say the least. The guy who was supposed to auction off a tarot reading apparently lost his psychic abilities and has fallen through. So now Lori needs another act for the whole spiel.

"I told you, I can totally wing it," you say. "I'll just get one of those card decks and talk a lot about mercury in retrograde."

She shakes her head. "Zain is a medium, love. You cannot just wing that. You are born with these abilities." It feels like Lori has taken this thing very seriously and probably was the one usually bidding for a precious hour with Zain.

"Didn't he quit because he lost his abilities?"

"He goes through phases," she explains. "He told me that I would meet my second husband in a WholeFoods near the spices and I always feel a particular sensation whenever I pass that special aisle."

"Oh," you say. "And did you? Meet him, I mean?"

"Oh honey, no. I am still in my first marriage," she replies. "But please don't try to read cards. Just give them some minor, non liable, legal advice or whatever they feel like talking about, yes?"

You shrug. "Sure, I can do that."

She presses her palms together and gives a little bow. "Thank you."

You mirror her gesture and grin. "My pleasure, Lori."

A couple of hours later, you're standing next to Daniel and his friend Mark talking about spear fishing and you wonder how on earth you got into this conversation.

"It is so thrilling, I am telling you," Daniel says and leans over to you. "You totally need to come the next time we head out."

"Thanks," you say. "I'll totally think about it."

The station is filled with an incredible amount of people you didn't even know could fit inside. It is packed. Everyone is talking, drinking and eating little sliders and sweets that one of the officer's sons made for the day. You haven't seen the chief at all. Not that you were looking for him. That would be weird. You definitely weren't. You're just concerned that the person in charge of this station hasn't deemed it appropriate to grace ya'll with his presence.

"Have you seen the chief?" You ask Daniel, who shakes his head.

"He's probably outside with the mayor. He usually only comes in for the auction," he explains.

Lori's voice resounds from the back of the room, calling everyone to the little makeshift stage. You huddle next to Daniel, trying to get a good spot, but get pushed a little to the back by some very eager elderly ladies. The first item for auction is a mug with the police station's logo on it. So we're starting quite low. The second one is a basketball signed by the high school team. Both items get auctioned off to the two older ladies in front of you, who, for whatever reason, are having the time of their lives.

"Do you have your eyes set on a prize?"

You could point out that voice that trails down your neck from anywhere. The low rumble against your right ear and the hot breath against your skin. You don't turn your head, just lean back slightly, checking how much space he has left between you two. By the feel of his chest grazing your back, not much.

"Maybe," you say. "But there's lots of competition." You subtly point to the two women in front of you.

The chief chuckles almost inaudibly and leans forward ever so slightly. You can feel the buttons of his shirt press into your shoulder blades. If you weren't surrounding by a crowd of people, all pushing against each other, this might be outrageous.

"Nothing you can't handle, I assume," he says.

"They seem very determined to me," you reply.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be afraid of two senior citizens," he says.

"Clearly you have no idea what damage two women over 70 can do."

"Maybe I just have a lot of faith in you?"

You turn your head and meet his eyes. The brown is warm and inviting, nothing like before. Golden specks dart inside of them, showing off their dance. His hair is combed back, but his beard isn't trimmed, making him look rakish. He isn't wearing his usual white button down, but a flannel and a jacket you've seen him wear a couple of times.

"Maybe you should talk to a priest about that," you say.

"Nothing I haven't considered before," he replies and a small tug appears at the corner of his mouth. The seconds pass like the lazy ticking of a clock. If you weren't a reasonable women you would almost say it's hypnotising having him looking at you like that.

"Hi," the chief says softly, holding your gaze.

"You're late," you reply.

"Briefing with the mayor," he says and cocks his head.

"Do you have your eyes on anything particular?" You ask him.

His brows furrow. "I need you to specify that question for me, Darlin."

You roll your eyes and sigh.

"Are you bidding on anything today?" You say.

He shakes his head and is about to say something when you hear your name called from the back. You turn your head and Lori is standing on the little stage, waving eagerly. Everyone has turned to face you.

"Oh god," you say and immediately moving forward a bit, putting some distance between you and the chief.

"What in Jesus name-," Joel whispers and then Daniel is there to grab your hand and pull you towards the back of the room. In a matter of seconds you're being pushed up on a couple of boxes next to Lori, who is beaming at you.

"This is our lovely new assistant for the summer. She's a big lawyer from the city and has kindly offered to pitch in for the sake of the station." Her exaggerated introduction gets a round of applause.

Your eyes search for familiar ones and once found can only spot Joel's face of disbelief. This turned out to be weirder than you thought it would be.

"We're auctioning off a special dinner with her. She's kindly offered to also help with some of your legal questions, but we all know that spending an evening with this lovely lady should be enough of a prize as is. The first bid is 50$," Lori shouts.

Your head snaps to the side. "You said coffee, Lori."

You try to keep your voice down, but can't help hide your surprise.

Lori pats your arm and whispers, "Sorry dear, you're a lovely girl, but nobody is going to spend 50$ on coffee and we really needed to make up for Zain's part."

You look at her, stunned.

"You'll be fine," she says and turns back to the crowd. "Can I hear 50$?"

There is a stretch of silence that feels like two hours and then all of a sudden near where Joel is standing, Tommy raises his hand and shouts. "Here for 50$".

You mouth a silent thank you towards him. He gives you a thumbs up and you're almost relaxing, when another hand goes up further back near the door.

"60$!" A guy in a polo shirt with the most severe sunburn on his face shouts from the side.

Oh Lord. This is going to be a tough one. You try to search for Joel's face and maybe telepathically tell him to step the fuck up, but his face has morphed back into his usual stern expression, giving away nothing.

Tommy raises his hand again and goes for 80$, but the guy matches him at 100$. The man looks at you with a grin that is definitely giving creep vibes. When you're about to convince yourself that he's probably just a normal guy, he actually licks his lips while making full eye contact. Hell nah. You're about to abort this mission, when someone shouts from the back of the room.

"500$!"

The whole crowd gasps in unison.

"Do we hear 510$?" Lori shouts and after a couple of seconds of silence she claps. "The mayor has just donated 500$ to the station!"

The whole crowd cheers. The mayor? What on earth is happening here. People are still cheering, when Lori guides you off the stage into Daniel's arms.

"Did you just see that?" He shouts and pats you on your shoulder.

"I literally was standing up there."

He shakes his head. "Wow, that is so cool. To be able to spend a whole evening with the mayor. You're so lucky, he is the coolest guy ever."

Daniel apparently has a crush you didn't know about.

"What makes him so cool?" You ask and Daniel starts rambling on about how he has worked his way up all on his own bla bla bla - you get the gist. From what you're hearing is that the mayor is literally just a guy.

"Sounds like a real shooting star," you say, sarcastically.

"Please, only my mother calls me that," someone says from behind you. You turn around and there he is - the famously cool mayor.

You didn't expect him to be so.. young? He looks about mid 30s, with a neatly ironed blue button down on and some dark blue slacks. Without a tie and his sleeves rolled up, he looks not much older than Casey or Daniel. His hair is so dark, it makes the green in his eyes even more striking. You can tell from the way it is styled into a perfect side swoop that he probably spends more time in front of a mirror than at work. He is, besides the dramatic hairdo, uncomfortably good looking. And then he smiles only to reveal a set of perfectly straight white politician teeth.

You can't help but smile back. "Your mother sounds like a real supporter."

"You can never outgrow your parents, can you?" He says and offers his hand. "I don't think we have been introduced yet."

You shake your head and take his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Oh, let's leave the formalities to the rest of them, shall we? I'm Sebastian."

You say your name and let go of his hand. "You didn't have to do that by the way."

"Do what?" He raises his eyebrows.

"The bid," you say. "That's a lot of money you spent there."

He shrugs. "It's just money."

"Bold thing to say in this economy," you say and he smiles.

"You don't think an evening with you is worth at least 500$?"

"I might think so, but you have no idea who I am, maybe I am unbearable and only like to talk about particular species of tropical insects?"

Sebastian laughs. "And maybe the possibility of getting to know that about you among other things is worth much more to me than 500$ in my pocket."

That shuts you up and Daniel elbows you in the side. "See, I told you he is cool. So suave."

"You should start putting him on your payroll," you say pointing at Daniel. "He's really been advertising your role."

"Has he now?" Sebastian raises his eyebrows. "And here I was thinking I wasn't the station's favourite."

Daniel scoffs. "Of course not, I've been rooting for you for years now. I actually think what you did for our town has been incredibly necessary."

"I'm glad you think so," Sebastian says, running a hand through his hair.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Daniel says. "Would you like a tour of the station?"

Sebastian grins. "Sure, I'd love to. Would you like to join us?"

He turns to you, expectantly.

"Sure," you say and follow them through the crowd. Daniel first shows the archives and the offices as well as the staff kitchen. You make your way down to the basement, which harbours the equipment closets and the shooting practice range.

"I don't think I've ever been down here before," you say.

"That's because it's usually only open for officers," Daniel says and opens the door to the range. "But today I'll make an exception."

You follow the men into the room. It is quite dark and even once Daniel turns on the lights, it doesn't really get any brighter. There are three stalls next to each other, with a long table about hip high. In the back you can see the practice papers showing prints resembling figures and large crosshairs.

"Nice plays you got," Sebastian says and steps up to one of the stalls. "How often of you get to practice down here?"

"Whenever I want," Daniel says. "The chief doesn't really use it."

"He doesn't need to practice?" Sebastian asks.

Daniel shrugs. "I don't think he likes it much."

Sebastian hums.

"Do you want to try it out?" Daniel asks you both, grinning.

Sebastian takes a step forward. "You think that's fine with your boss?"

Daniel nods eagerly. "Told you he's never down here and I don't really care what he thinks."

You frown. "Okay Brutus, calm yourself down."

Sebastian laughs and Daniel opens up one of the closets, which, as you now see, are stacked with firearms.

"Funny," Daniel mumbles and takes a gun out of the cabinet. "Which one do you want, sir?"

"He'll have mine pointed at him if he takes one step toward the one you're holding right now," the chief says from behind you.

He's leaning against the door, arms crossed, lethal stare ready to kill. Fuck. His hair is a little dishevelled like he has run his hand through it quite a few times and the top of his shirt is unbuttoned one button too far. He breathes a bit too heavily for having just waltzed in the door.

You and Daniel both take a step back away from him.

Daniel almost trips as he staggers back. "Sir, I was just-

"Put the gun down, Riley," Joel says calmly.

"I'm sorry, Chief, I was just-"

"Get out," Joel barks and takes a couple steps into the room to open up the doorway he was blocking.

"I am so sorry, I really didn't mea-" Daniel starts again and Joel just stares at him. He cocks his head and like a bad behaving child, Daniel puts the gun back into the cabinet, struts out of the room and almost runs up the stairs.

"Now to you," Joel says a after a second and his eyes land on Sebastian, who has taken a seat on one of the tables, seemingly enjoying the show. He does not look at you once.

"You're gonna tell me off too, Joel?" Sebastian smiles mockingly.

"You should go back upstairs and do your job," Joel replies.

"And what might that be, huh?"

"Shaking hands, making empty promises, kissing ass," the chief answers. "You know, whatever you're good at."

Sebastian's grin fades quickly. "Bold statement coming from a person that's serving my office."

Joel's expression stays blank. "Bold statement coming from the only man in this room who's not armed."

He uncrosses his arms, to reveal the gun strapped to his shoulder holster. "Or are you hiding something under that hair of yours?"

"Are you threatening me now?" Sebastian says nonchalantly, but moves off the table to stand.

"I am giving you an order," Joel says.

"It's cute that you think I take orders from you, Miller."

"Let's see how cute you think being escorted from the station for trespassing is then."

"Daniel let us in here. That is not trespassing or do you need to refresh your police academy education?"

"Do you see Daniel anywhere here?" Joel asks and looks around him. "I sure as hell don't."

He takes a step toward Sebastian. "This is a secure room, only to be entered by people who are employed at this station. As the operating chief of police it is in my power to enforce these regulations and to remove any threat to this station and its employees. I repeatedly told you to vacate the premises. If you do not follow this order I will personally make sure you get a personal tour of one of our holding cells for the night, how does that sound, Mr. Mayor?"

Sebastian looks at you.

"Don't look at her, look at me," Joel growls.

"You should know when to stay in your lane, Miller."

"If you think I am above carrying you out of this station then you think entirely too highly of me," he replies and after a moment steps out of the mayor's way. "It was a pleasure having you, please come again."

Sebastian hisses the most subtle fuck you, you've ever heard and gets out of the room. Right as he passes you buy, he turns to you.

"If you ever want to work for someone sane, you give me a call," he says and then smiles mischievously. "I'll call you about that dinner."

The mayor steps out of the room and walks slowly up the stairs.

The silence he leaves is deafening.

"Close the door," Joel says slowly.

You do as he says. The heavy metal door closes with a loud thud and you turn back around toward him. He is leaning against the table Sebastian was just sitting on, staring back at you.

"Listen-" you start, but he raises his hand to stop you.

"Do I look like I want to hear your explanation?" He says, sternly.

He's looked at you angrily before, but never like this. His features have hardened into the mask you've gotten to know better over the last few weeks. The mask that has only slipped for a couple of moments here and there. Moments that make their way to the forefront of your mind whenever you're all by yourself, whenever your eyes close, you're trying to focus or falling asleep. Moments that feel so fleeting that remembering them feels like trying to trap a hummingbird with your bear hands. You drop your gaze.

"Two things," he says slowly, ripping you out of your thoughts. "One, you will not be going to that dinner and two, you will start listening to what I say or you're out." The chief holds up two fingers in front of him.

"You can't tell me not to go," you say. "I'm not your property."

"That's right," he says. "Much worse. You're my employee."

"Which means you should actually do as I say," Joel leans forward and almost growls when he says, "If you go to that dinner, you're done here."

"That's blackmail," you whisper.

"That's an order," he insists.

"I don't take orders from you," you snap and Joel lowers his head, threateningly.

"Did you not just see what happened to the last guy that tried that shit with me?"

You shrug. "Did you not understand the first time I told you that?"

"You will be taking a lot more than just orders from me, if you keep up this tone, Darlin."

"Is this the part where you tell me off like the boys or do I get the usual "I'm the chief of police and what I say goes"- speech?" You say. "Or does that come later?"

Joel exhales sharply. "Why were you down here with them?"

"Were you looking for me?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"Daniel asked if he could show Sebastian around and he asked if I wanted to join and I said sure," you reply.

"It's Sebastian now, is it?" He spits out the name like its some fruit gone bad.

"That was how he introduced himself to me," you say.

Joel nods slowly. "And you thought it would be a good idea to shoot some guns with Sebastian, huh?"

"Daniel said it would be fine, if we wanted to try it out," you argue.

"Christ," Joel says and rubs a hand over his forehead, freeing a lock that falls into his face.

"I didn't think it would be a that big of a deal," you say.

"You didn't think that's for sure," Joel snaps.

"I wasn't going to do it alone, Daniel was here," you reply, getting annoyed.

"Daniel had to take his shooting tests three times. He needs regular training to keep up with the rest. Did he tell you that as well?" Joel barks. "Did he also tell you that almost 30,000 people hurt themselves each year due to accidental firearm injuries? People get killed by not thinking."

You cross your arms. "I am around guns here all day. Maybe if someone would show me how to properly use one, I wouldn't be the liability I apparently am!"

Joel shakes his head. "You might work here, but you still are a civilian. Not a police officer."

"Daniel would have shown me," you say. Joel cocks his head to the side.

"Daniel would do a lot of things if you let him," Joel says, his eyes darkening.

You raise your eyebrows. "Does that make you angry, sir?"

He scoffs. "If you're asking if Riley makes my life harder the answer is yes."

"But does it bother you?"

"You should know that it takes more than that puppy to make me angry," Joel mutters.

"So it's me," you say. "I make you angry."

"You get on my nerves, there is a difference."

"Maybe if you stop treating me like an incapable child and more like a person with a functioning brain it might stop," you say.

"Maybe if you start acting like a person with a functioning brain I might start treating you like one," Joel replies.

"Then show me how to shoot and I won't need to rely on Daniel to protect me if I get into trouble," you say.

"Let me make a couple of things clear to you right now," he says. The strand of his hair is dangling into his right eye, making you slightly loose your focus. "First of all, you will not ever rely on Riley to protect you and second, as long as you are working here at this station, you will not ever get into anything that even resembles the kind of trouble you are talking about. Because I will make sure that that stays as far away from you as possible."

"So other trouble is allowed?"

He frowns, his eyes widening for a split second. "What kind?"

"What do you think?" You say and Joel huffs out a breath.

"Don't even st-"

"The kind that might come from me asking you to show me how to use a gun?"

Joel groans and pushes himself off the table. "Jesus Christ, fine!"

He walks toward the closets on the side of the room and he grabs a gun from the shelf. A couple of clicking sounds resound and then he turns back to you.

"Stand in front of the table," he says.

You grin and step up to the shooting stall, facing the paper figures in the back. You feel him even before you hear him coming up behind you. His breath blows against your neck and you can't help but think if this is another moment that is going to bite into your brain later and never let go.

"That is the safety," he says, pointing to a little lever on the gun, he's holding out in front of you. "You release it, the gun is hot, you close it, it won't fire."

Joel lifts his hand and holds the gun up to you. "Take it."

You wrap your fingers around it, slowly. It is heavier than you thought it was going to be. The cold metal a weird feeling on your skin.

"Lift it up and aim," he says and you follow his instruction.

He leans back a little. "Spread your legs for me," he says.

"Sorry?"

"Your stance needs to be wider," he says, tapping your outer thigh. The slight touch of his fingers feels like they're burning a hole through your pants right down to your skin, leaving a mark. When you keep looking at him, he adds, "Eyes on the target."

You move your legs to a wider stance.

"Shoulders back," he says and you pull back your shoulders, only to have them press into his chest. The materials of your shirts audibly scrunching against each other.

If you were concentrating on anything but the feel of his chest against your back, you might have noticed his breathing getting heavier. But when he lifts his arms and wraps his hands around yours, holding the gun steady in your hand, you finally loose all focus, wondering if this actually was the stupidest idea ever.

"Lock your arms," Joel utters. "Whenever you draw a gun, you should always have your body in this position to protect your shoulders from the recoil and to have a secure shot."

You nod, trying to concentrate on anything else than the sensation of his belt against your back. Christ, it's like you've never been close to a man before. But now you're close enough to sense his smell and you kind of don't want to move away, ever.

"Once you're ready to shoot, you take a deep breath in," he says and you inhale, shakily. "Take a deep breath out." You slowly exhale.

"And shoot," he says.

You pull the trigger and the sound that comes from the gun is nothing but a click. You pull the trigger again, but the only thing that resounds is the clicking sound of an empty gun.

"What?" You say and turn your head to find Joel grinning.

"You didn't give me a real gun?"

"Oh, it is a real gun," he says. "Just not loaded."

"Are you serious?" You say.

"You didn't actually think I would let you shoot a gun, did you? Are you out of your goddamn mind?" He says, stepping back, making room for you to turn around.

"I can't believe you," you exclaim and let the gun fall onto the table.

"This ain't some movie bullshit, Darlin. You can actually hurt yourself and I am not putting you in a position where you are able to do that."

"How could I possibly hurt myself when you're literally standing right behind me?"

"You don't need to fire a gun to know how to handle one," he says.

"So you just wanted a little feel up close behind me, did ya?" You hiss and cock your head. "Maybe you should have bid at the auction so you could have gotten your money's worth. But no, Sebastian got there first, too bad."

Joel slams his hand on the wall next to your head, separating the shooting stalls. "If you think even for a second I'm gonna take that guy's money and let you go to that dinner, you're dead wrong, Sweetheart."

"Don't Sweetheart me, Miller," you say. "And it is not up to you whether or not I go. At least it's not that creepy fucking dude in the polo."

"Oh", Joel raises his hands mockingly. "The mayor to the rescue."

You narrow your eyes. "Did it even for a second occur to you that you could have been the one bidding on that stupid dinner to save me from going out with that weird dude?"

"It did not, no."

"Wow," you say. "Thanks for that. I'm auctioned off like some fucking horse and you did not bother to think about helping me. Real nice, Miller."

Joel sighs. "I am not allowed to bid at the auction. None of the staff is. And I am your superior. I can't bid on an evening alone with you. That would be highly inappropriate."

"Right," you say, crossing your arms. "Because that's the one thing to happen now that would be inappropriate. Sure."

He rolls his eyes. "And if I had known that you were up there, I wouldn't have allowed it in the first place."

"Allowed it?" You say. "Who are you? My school principle?"

"Why on earth did you even agree?" He asks and ignores my jab.

"I agreed to a coffee. Lori said it would just be a cup of coffee."

"Christ," Joel groans. "Does no one ever run anything by me at this fucking station anymore?"

"That feels like a you-problem to me."

"Thanks for the input," he says sarcastically and you silently stare at each other. The golden specks in his eyes have been replaced by a stern darkness. His face has hardened again, leaving no room for any funny business.

"And unlike the mayor I do not need to pay 500 bucks to spend some alone time with you," Joel says. "I just wait until the next time you stumble into my bathroom in a bikini."

You inhale sharply. "That was an accident!"

"Okay," he says. "Then I'll just show you how to really shoot. Turn around again for me, honey, so I can get a good feel, huh?"

"You're such an asshole, Miller," you hiss and raise your hand to push against his chest, but he grabs your wrist before you can hit him. With one quick tug he pulls you tightly against him and turns your arm around your back. One step forward and he has you trapped between his body and the shooting table. You're breathing heavily and he's close enough for you two see a single bead of sweat trickle down his neck over his tan skin into the front of his button down.

You lift your chin in a challenge. "You can just tell me if you want to take me to dinner. No need to get all riled up."

"Imma take you to a lot of places," he says, his southern drawl slipping through, "dinner won't be one of 'em."

You laugh. "Uhh, I'm shaking in my boots."

"You so desperately want to be taught a fucking lesson, don't you?" He hisses and his eyebrows narrow, his grip fastening.

"And you so desperately want to teach me one, don't you, Mr. Miller?"

He lifts his free hand, placing it on top of the table, pushing you to lean back onto it. For the first time your bodies are consciously fully pressed against each other and almost as if it is a reflex, you slowly open up your legs for him. Joel's head snaps down to your hips, his eyes widening. You think he's about to say something but his lips just part slightly as he moves to step in-between your legs. He's towering over you, still holding on to the wrist that's pinned to your back. This cannot be good. Your mind goes completely blank as his eyes trail up from your hips over your body and fasten on yours. They're like a gloomy dark sky harbouring the promise of a storm.

"What did I tell you about calling me Mr. Miller?"

"Last time I checked, I'm not wearing a bikini and this isn't your house," you whisper.

"Exactly," Joel says, "so it's Chief for you."

"Does that only apply when you're between my legs or also when you need to scratch that power itch again?"

Within the blink of an eye he lets go of your hand and pushes himself away from you. "Who says these are two separate things, Darlin?"

You sit up, scrutinising him.

Joel narrows his eyes. "Now get out, before I change my mind about that lesson."

You push yourself off the table. ""Look who's talking now."

"You need me to spell it out for ya?" He says and walks toward the door, opening it, motioning for you to get out.

"Thanks for the instructions, Chief," you say sarcastically as you make your way out of the room. "Really helpful. Especially the practical part."

His fingers imperceptibly brush against your lower back as you pass him by the door. "For the rest of the day," he starts and lowers his gaze to yours. His eyes giving him away for the quickest second. "Be a good girl now, will ya."

You step out of the room and turn for the stairs. One last glance over your shoulder. "Yes, sir."

Making your way up the stairs, you don't need to look back to know why Mr. Miller is leaning against the door, his gaze following your figure moving away - his sharp intake of a breath tells you all you need to know.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedrohub #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x female reader #fanfiction

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 13 days ago

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you are so cute and i love you for this 🥰🫶🏻

Thinking of you all amazing people. Sending hugs and kisses and a man of your choice to chase away any Monday blues! ✨️

@anika-ann @stellar-solar-flare @steviebbboi @writing-for-marvel @saiyanprincessswanie @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @late-to-the-party-81 @tripletstephaniescp @yenzys-lucky-charm @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @bigtreefest @elixirfromthestars @jobean12-blog @flowersforbucky @bitchy-bi-trash @bcksbarnes @vunblr @ronearoundblindly @buckyys-babydoll @gremlin-girly @navybrat817 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @themaradwrites @buckets-and-trees @societyfolklore @sunday-bug @artficlly @azriona @watermeezer @buckybarnesfic @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @zaraomarrogers @thevillainswhore @soelstress @eloquentlytired @sosa2imagines @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @nekoannie-chan @lokischambermaid @veltana @krirebr @iwudbutnah @missvelvetsstuff @sarahowritesostucky @thiquefunlover63 @skaye44 @buckybarnes82 @ramp-it-up @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers and to all of you who I missed 'coz of the tag limits, and to everyone who's seeing this. Lots of love to you 💞😘✨

Just some random GIFs added as flair 🤭😆

#mutuals <3 #mercurial-chuckles <3 #grace 🩵

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wlntrsldler · 1 year ago

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poisoned mercury | everybody talks

a/n: don't love this chapter. definitely a filler, but the next chapter is much more fun!

iii. everybody talks by neon trees

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tagged chrisr0driguez, travisstoll, and connorstoll.

lukecastell4n: little break but we'll be back so soon poisonedmercury

poisonedmercuryfan: new music????????

castell4nsgf: omg im excited

stollsluvr: ME TOO

chrisr0driguez: we miss you guys already!

lukecastell4n: fr, we miss seeing your beautiful faces on tour :(

travisstoll: working hard

lukecastell4n: hardly working 🥱

connorstoll: give me my guitar back

lukecastell4n: no

“mornin’ five star,” luke tossed you one of your probiotic drinks from the fridge as you entered the kitchen.

you caught it seamlessly, mumbling a quick thank you. it wasn’t even seven am, but the two of you were already awake. it became a routine since it seemed like you both had the same idea. your coach told you that you needed to workout, even though you were on probation, in the off-chance that you’ll be allowed to play again when the season starts. you figured that the campers would be enjoying their vacations and sleeping in so you’d have the community gym to yourself. unfortunately for you, luke castellan was an early bird.

your gym schedules synced up and you often found yourself having to make small talk with him in the kitchen while you filled up your water bottle before you ditched him to head to the gym. he would trail a respectable distance behind you, giving you your space, as he walked to the gym. the two of you did your separate workouts, sneaking glances at one another because it was a little awkward that you lived together, went to the gym at the same time, but didn’t talk to each other.

it wasn’t for a lack of trying on luke’s part. he’d tried to talk to you a few times, but it seemed to not be a good idea to start a conversation before you had your morning coffee. it was funny for the first few days, but he was afraid that it would quickly cross the boundary of being quirky and cute to being straight-up annoying. he lived with you and he showed mercy to the rest of your cabinmates by not pushing your buttons. too much.

he still occasionally indulged in bickering with you, which seemed to be all of your conversations. you always found something new to argue with him about. your dad was right about you being hard-headed and stubborn, but for some reason, luke didn’t mind. his days at camp were fun, at least, as fun as a summer camp could be, and your interactions kept him on his toes. the usual schedule of meals, rehearsals, and attempts to write new songs, became repetitive after a few days, but with you in his face, ready to argue at any moment, it felt like there was something to look forward to.

you took the foil off your drink, downing it in one go. you tossed it in the recycling bin before turning to him, “do you go to the gym at this hour to spite me?”

luke chuckled, cracking open a red bull, “the word doesn’t revolve around you, you know?”

“i know that,” you rolled your eyes, “but you can go to the gym any time in the day and you choose to go at the ass crack of dawn. why?”

“it’s peaceful,” he shrugged, “the machines are empty and i don’t have to wait. it’s nice.”

“that’s why i go this early.”

“see,” he smiled, tilting his head. “great minds think alike.”

you grimaced at his comparison, scrunching your face up. the sun was beginning to rise causing an orange glow to cast on your face. despite waking up so early and sleeping so late– he’d heard you come in with clarisse at 3 am this morning after a late-night smoke session, luke couldn’t see a trace of tiredness on your features. luke envied you. he definitely did not look that good after 3 hours of sleep.

you fixed the zipper of your sweater, adjusting the bottom of it to better fit your hips. you were wearing a tight-fitting workout outfit, black nike pros, and the usual vans you wore when you worked out. your hair was in a high ponytail keeping it out of your face, which was a good thing. he’d seen how intense your workouts were and you definitely didn’t need to have your hair in your face while you leg pressed 275.

“i just feel like i see you everywhere,” you commented, “and everyone just wants to talk about you.”

luke’s eyes twinkled, “what do they say?”

“luke castellan is so talented, luke castellan is so hot, blah, blah, blah,” you imitated the words you’d heard from other campers, sighing in discontent. “like shut up already. i thought that it would die down after the first day of you guys being here, but it’s been a week and it’s the same thing.”

luke followed you out the cabin door, walking beside you for the first time since you both started going to the gym at the same time, “well, do you agree with them?”

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. your eyes raked over his face and his body, contemplating. you weren’t blind. you understood why people said what they said about him. luke castellan was attractive with his curls and toned arms and his stupid full lips, which seemed to always be in a smirk, but the hype was too much. and poisoned mercury’s music was good– great even, but you needed to hear something other than how muscular luke castellan was or how his scar made him look rugged or how his voice sounded like angels singing. you were at your breaking point.

luke stood there, rocking back and forth on his toes and the balls of his feet, patiently waiting until you made up your mind. your lips formed a tight line, “i don’t see it.”

“fuck, five star,” luke scoffed, unable to stop the smile on his face. he shook his head, curls bouncing around, “you sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“don’t need to fuel your ego any more than everyone else does,” you replied, continuing your walk to the gym.

you didn’t seem to mind that luke continued to walk beside you, which was progress, in luke’s mind. his bandmates have been on his ass about trying to be friends with you since the rest of them developed friendships with you and clarisse over the week they’d been here.

he’d seen you on the couch with chris watching tiktok videos on how to properly take care of his curls a few times. (luke was not stealing some of the curl cream that chris bought per your recommendation. his curls just suddenly became a lot more defined recently.) he watched you play darts with travis at the activities center and argued with him about why he didn’t need to buy a dart set for the cabin. (he agreed with you there. there was an incident in atlanta where connor was sent to the er because travis managed to lodge a dart in connor’s calf after losing a game.) he once saw you, clarisse, and connor return from a swim in the lake in the middle of the night when he stayed up trying to write a song. (the song remains unfinished on his notepad, tucked safely away on his bedside table. he had no inspiration to write any music at the moment.)

again, it wasn’t for his lack of trying. you just didn’t seem interested in forming a relationship with him outside of being roommates. it was getting to him. just a little bit. he found himself thinking of you a lot. the boys started to comment on how he hadn’t gotten with anyone at camp yet, despite getting numerous offers from older campers and head counselors alike, but luke shrugged it off and said that he didn’t want to start drama so early on in the summer. it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. for some reason, he just couldn’t get you out of his head.

“i can’t control what people say,” luke said after a moment. “i’m sure it must be so annoying to hear about how great i am.”

“you are so full of yourself,” you groaned, shooting daggers in his direction. this made him laugh. “you know what you can control, though?”

“what?”

“the mess you make in the cabin,” you replied, “seriously, you guys have been here a week and the cabin already looks like a fucking frat house.”

luke thought about the state of the common area. you were right. the cabin was a mess, empty cans everywhere, crumbs on every surface, and wires from the playstation scattered across the living room floor. the boys weren’t the neatest, they were teenagers after all, and luke had to clean up after them more times than he could count. having his mom on tour meant that he often got stuck with clean-up duty.

“hey, don’t blame me,” he raised his hands up in defense. “i recycle.”

“aren’t you a model citizen?” you remarked sarcastically, opening the door to the gym. you pursed your lips, staring at luke. “yeah, i still don’t get it.”

luke snorted, smiling at you, “have a good workout, five star. looking forward to walking home in silence with you.”

when you didn’t say anything else, but threw up the middle finger as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but stare at your figure before you disappeared from his view. what a way to start his day.

–

“hi, luke,” two girls called as they passed by the boys, waving flirtily at the lead singer.

luke sent them a smile back, tossing a wink to them that made them giggle as they walked away. it was a miracle that there were no news leaks about where they were. luke’s mom was happy that this arrangement was working out.

travis swung an arm around luke, “c’mon castellan, save some girls for the rest of us.”

luke pushed his arm off, laughing, “trav, didn’t you literally go home with a girl on our first night here?”

“ah, yes, stacy,” travis sighed, dreamily, smirking to himself as he recalled his first night at camp. he shook his head, facing luke again, “but seriously, castellan, ten girls have said hi to you since we left dinner and you’re flirting with them but not doing anything about it.”

“i promised my mom i’d be good this summer,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his front pockets as he led the boys into the cabin. “and i told you guys, it’s too early to start shit. we got the whole summer. spread out your escapades, stoll.”

luke thought that being back at camp half blood would bring back some terrible memories, especially his last summer there. it was the summer right after his dad left and luke was miserable. he was a moody 8-year-old who yelled at everybody who tried to be his friend, which resulted in him being alone all summer. he sat in the back of the room during music lessons, refused to participate in the end-of-summer performance, and on many nights, cried himself to sleep because he missed his dad. he felt pathetic.

but so far, surprisingly, camp was actually nice. at his core, luke was a music fanatic, so it was energizing for him to get to talk about his music and his journey to stardom. his favorite interaction so far was with two, younger boys, who enthusiastically approached him and said that they were learning how to play guitar and sing because they looked up to the band. it was a little concerning at first, given that the band’s reputation wasn’t necessarily kid-appropriate, but he appreciated the sentiment. grover and percy walked away grinning from ear to ear when luke made them promise that they’d stop by again soon to show him their progress.

luke sat on the bar chair, watching as connor and chris turned on the playstation, mumbling about a rematch on 2k to prove that one was better than the other. many things changed in all of their lives, but some things stayed the same. they were still just four best friends; the difference was, now, they got to travel the world together doing what they loved.

chris and luke met in their freshman english class. chris let it slip that he was learning how to play bass because his mom warned him that if he broke another bone trying to skateboard, he’d have to walk to the hospital himself. she was joking, of course, but chris figured that after two years of failed attempts at learning how to skate, he should hang it up.

he decided to try his hand at music and the bass became his new hyperfixation. they started writing music in luke’s old bedroom in connecticut shortly after. for years, the songs were just for them. they recorded it on shitty equipment and used garageband to fill in the instrumentals until they met the stolls. the stolls, luke’s neighbors who moved into town when luke was 16, heard them trying to figure out a hook for a song they were writing and offered some help. travis, with connor behind him, introduced themselves and the rest is history.

poisoned mercury was born. travis convinced the other three that their music was good, that they should go out and play at local cafes and bars. at 16, luke became the front man of poisoned mercury. the song the four of them wrote together on their first day as a band, became the lead single of their debut album. kilby girl spent thirteen weeks on billboard top 50 and in less than a year and a half, the boys had a record deal with olympus records and they were heading off to start the north american leg of their world tour.

you walked into the cabin with clarisse, laughing as she explained the incident that caused her to have glitter all over her face and her hair. one of her campers was having trouble opening the glitter jar and when she came over to help, the top popped off and glitter sprayed all over her.

“i feel glitter everywhere,” she shuddered, “i need a shower before we help out with concert prep.”

you looked around the cabin, grimacing, “it smells like boy in here.”

“it’s our bachelor pad,” travis called out from the kitchen. he walked out into the living room with a fresh hot pocket in his hand, eyes widening at the sight of clarisse, “woah, what happened to you?”

“arts and crafts day,” clarisse cringed, falling into the couch cushions. “i’m gonna be covered in glitter for days.”

“hey, watch out,” connor paused the game he was playing with chris, shoving clarisse slightly. “you’re gonna get glitter everywhere.”

“ah, yes, because having glitter is going to ruin the aesthetic of empty cans and half-eaten chip bags?” clarisse cocked an eyebrow, pointing at the mess the boys made. you and her were engaged in a passionate rant about how much it sucked living with teenage boys before your arrival to the cabin.

“we’ll clean up,” chris rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly glancing at clarisse. you had a feeling that cleaning was the last thing on their agenda.

you sat on the bar stool across from luke, “i didn’t expect to live in the mojo dojo casa house this summer.”

“the what?”

“from barbie,” you replied, “when the kens take over barbieland?”

luke shook his head, “haven’t seen it.”

of course, he hasn’t seen it. clarisse and the boys fell into a conversation about how she accidentally got glitter bombed. luke watched you as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, occasionally letting a chuckle leave your lips when you found something funny. he felt a little creepy staring at you like this, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

the sun was shining behind you, a soft glow framing your face and it made your brown eyes look like pools of honey. your nose piercing was iridescent under the light, which made luke’s eyebrows raise in surprise. he thought it was just plain silver, but when you tilted your head in certain directions, he could see sparkles of purple and pink. your long hair was thrown messily over your shoulders, a few tangles here and there, and the god-awful, orange camp half blood shirt you wore actually suited you. luke was a firm believer that nobody looked good in orange until he saw you in it.

“you’re staring,” you mumbled, looking up at him. “don’t tell me i have glitter on my face now too.”

luke cleared his throat, playing with the chain around his neck, “yeah, like a tiny speck on your cheek.”

you groaned, rubbing the right side of your face, “is it gone?”

you didn’t actually have any glitter on your face, but luke figured it would be less awkward to say that you did instead of telling you that he was staring just to stare. he nodded, “you got it.”

“thanks, i cannot deal with glitter,” you got up, walking over to the group. “hey, we can use some help with prep for next week’s concert if you guys are free.”

“we’re not doing anything, right?” connor looked around. travis and chris shook their heads. “what about you, castellan?”

“nah, i can’t,” luke said, “promised mom i’d try to write at least one song this summer and i’ve been in a rut so i think i’ll try to do that. you guys have fun though.”

“perfect,” you smiled, “we can leave after clar gets out the shower.”

they sent you a thumbs-up before you walked into your room. clarisse disappeared into the bathroom shortly after. luke took clarisse’s spot once you both left. he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, leaning back on his seat. he waited patiently for the sound of the showers to turn on before he spoke, “she’s hot.”

“yeah, she is,” chris said, hitting play on their game.

“don’t even think about it, castellan. when i said start a relationship with her, this is not what i meant,” connor remarked, shaking his head, “we are not gonna fuck up our relationship with mr. d because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“oh, you’re talking about y/n?” the three boys stared at chris, who sunk into his seat, blushing furiously. luke narrowed his eyes at chris, a playful smile on his lips. he’ll have to ask him about that later.

travis blinked, bringing his attention to his brother, “s’not like castellan has a chance anyway.”

luke’s head snapped to travis, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean she’s out of your league, big guy,” travis shrugged.

“well, yeah,” luke rubbed his jaw. he wasn’t that dumb to believe that you were in his league. you were lightyears ahead of him. he’d been rejected before, of course he had, but not since poisoned mercury got big– again, really bad for his ego – but he’d never been counted out before he even threw his hat in the ring.

“i’m with trav on this one, luke. don’t fuck it up.”

luke stared at his friends in disbelief, “can’t y’all have a little faith in me?”

“no,” they said in unison.

“fuck you guys,” luke flipped them off, ignoring their snickers. “i’m going for a smoke.”

he really needed to get you out of his head.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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silverflqmes · 9 months ago

Note

your writing is my everything omg...you say you're quite new to the ff7 fandom, but you're so insane at writing the characters, its amazing. AHEM ANYWAYS <3 I was wondering if you could write some sephiroth x reader (who's love language is physical touch, and is quite energetic, and loud. However, more soft-spoken and gentle with him.) Knocking on his door at 3am only to find him awake, and it turns in to a cuddling session 💗

໒⦂ 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐓��𝐍𝐈𝐍.

notes. anskwjsdj anon, that’s so sweet to hear🥺 i swear i’m new, really!😭 i got into it back in february so it hasn’t been very long.. but i appreciate your words, they’re very reassuring since i doubt my portrayals a lot :’) i hope this post is to your liking!<3

genre. fluff + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

shinra was ever quiet into the late evening as you tiptoed down the corridor of suites, careful not to stumble or make a ruckus. after all, normal people were asleep around this hour, even if you weren’t one of them.

but.. neither was your boyfriend, apparently, and you were about to make that his problem.

reaching the end of the hall, a soft breath spilled from your lips as you raised your fist to gently knock, grinning brightly. “sephirothhh.. it’s meeeee, your beloved y/n!” you sang as quiet as can be, suppressing a giggle before adding in a whispered yell, “open up before i freeze my ass off!”

it was a known fact that he, like his other peers, was graced with enhanced senses. which included hearing — among many other qualities to detect your presence, of course.

that being said, sephiroth had to be aware of your arrival, and by the pattern of footfalls echoing behind the door, it seemed he was!

liquid mercury framing a pale, ethereal face emerged through the crack of the doorframe, lips pulled into the tiniest of smiles. “apologies, i wasn’t aware i would be receiving company at this hour.” he finally spoke, sidestepping as an unvoiced invitation. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your lovely presence?”

with a quick kiss to his cheek, you threw your arms around him after twisting the lock, humming softly. “well, i must confess that i was suffering of boredom, lingering caffeine and a horrid lack of sephitonin.. so i decided to do something about that!”

a soft peck was placed on the flat of your temple in return, a noise of amusement following. “sephitonin, you say? and a lack of it? my, that sounds terrible, it simply won’t do.” sephiroth murmured back, cradling your body close to his by the hips. “what is your solution, if i might inquire?” there were several things that came to mind, but somehow you always had a way of going beyond his assumptions.

this was no exception. “a kiss for every minute that we have been apart sounds promising.. or a cuddle session until dawn, that sounds very appealing too.. then again, a goodnight’s rest on your thighs sounds lovely as well.. is ‘all the above’ an option here?”

a chuckle tumbled from his rosewood appendages, eyes crinkling at the corners. “hm.. just for you,” he paused, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “i’d be willing to allow all of your suggestions. however, dawn is not far off.” the general warned, tracing his thumb over your warm skin. “we’d better get started.”

leaning into his cold, yet soothing hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch for only a moment before letting out a tiny gasp. “you are so right. i should have infiltrated your apartment much sooner.” you concluded, pulling away to slip your fingers through the crevices of his pale ones. “it seems we have four hours at best and many, many kisses in dire need of compensation.. think you can handle this job, SOLDIER?”

though he knew the answer already, sephiroth fed into the silly act and made a contemplative sound, tapping a finger on his chin. “it will be a great feat, but i would not be a SOLDIER first if i could not accomplish this for my beloved.” he answered finally, smiling at the way you beamed up at him. did you always have to be so adorable?

“great! then it’s settled,” you giggled, tugging him forward. “to the bedroom we go!”

and to the bedroom you both went, laughter echoing all the way to the threshold where you fell back onto the collection of pillows with a bright grin.

the feline eyed male was quick to fill the spot beside you, pulling your body into the shape of his own as his nose buried into the crook of your neck.

kisses were peppered in his wake, snickers eliciting from your lips at the moonlight colored strands brushing over the curve of your cheek. it was utter bliss, being in his arms as you were, the signature rose and vanilla clinging to the air surrounding you both. somehow it was more prominent than normal; perhaps he had washed his hair after arriving home. either way, the scent put you at complete ease, as always.

“comfortable?” velvet cut through the silence, a gentle murmur against your ear.

you couldn’t help your giddiness at his affections, smiling like a teenager in love as you nuzzled against him. “incredibly, i’m about to have the best sleep ever.”

bemused, sephiroth shifted to tuck your head underneath his chin, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “truly? well, i’m happy that i can provide you with such. i’ll certainly be sleeping nicely tonight as well.” a slumber devoid of the usual nightmares? with his beloved? he’d take it any day, no matter the timeframe in which you ask.

“good,” you muttered back, pressing your lips to his collarbone as your legs tangled with his own. “i want you to rest well too, i know it’s been harder as of late.. so i, y’know, wanna accommodate as best as i can.”

for a moment he fell quiet, though his arms- they spoke volumes of gratitude when they tightened just slightly around your form.

eventually, he found his voice again. “thank you, my love.”

notes. kinda short but i offer you a dose of sephitonin🤲 i’ve been adjusting to uni life so i haven’t been able to get to requests but i will do my best to gradually put out! just bear with me until then pls!🥺🫶

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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wchswift · 5 months ago

Text

ଓ Soundtrack of Us

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: basically a drabble about you and dean having different tastes in rock but still enjoying it together.

Word count: 778

a/n: I've been a bit inactive and busy because of work and life in general, so I haven't been able to write as much 😭 but I had this self-indulgent idea and I decided to write it :3 (and just a note: I know dean and his "restricted" taste for hair metal is more exclusive to the early seasons and you see his musical taste expand over time, but I wrote this with s1 dean in mind so... sorry if this is kind of out of character)

Dean’s hand rested easy on the steering wheel, his other arm stretched over the back of the seat. His fingers brushed your shoulder now and then, not like he was trying, but like he couldn’t help it. The Impala purred beneath you like a contented lion, the rumble vibrating through the soles of your boots.

Outside, the road stretched long and dark, a canvas painted in streaks of asphalt and moonlight. Inside, the car was alive with the unmistakable riff of AC/DC’s Back in Black.

“You seriously don’t get tired of this song?” you teased, shooting him a side glance.

Dean smirked, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of the dash. “Tired? Sweetheart, this is a classic. It’s practically a religious experience.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s good, I’ll give you that. But, you know, there’s more to rock than screaming guitars and pounding drums.”

“Oh, here we go,” Dean groaned playfully, leaning back in his seat. “Let me guess, you’re about to hit me with Livin’ on a Prayer again.”

You laughed, the sound bright and warm in the intimate space of the car. You rummaged through your bag, fishing out your MP3 player. “Don’t knock it! Bon Jovi knew how to tell a story. And don’t even get me started on Queen. Freddie Mercury was a genius.”

Dean grunted, mock-offended. “Yeah, yeah. Freddie was great. I can't exactly disagree... but where’s the grit? The soul? The blood, sweat, and beers?” He gestured to the stereo. “Metallica, Black Sabbath—they’re the heartbeat of rock.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, scrolling through your playlist. “I like some grit. But music doesn’t always have to be about rebellion and rage. Sometimes, it’s about finding beauty in the chaos.”

Dean shot you a look, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Beauty in chaos, huh? That’s pretty deep for a Bon Jovi fan.”

You lightly punched his arm, and he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Watch it, Winchester,” you warned, but there was no heat in your words.

As the AC/DC track came to an end, you grabbed his box of tapes under the dash rifling through them until you found some of your additions.

The familiar opening chords of Somebody to Love filled the Impala, and you turned the volume up. Dean groaned dramatically.

“Oh, come on,” he protested. “Not this one!”

“Yes, this one!” you countered, swaying in your seat to the rhythm. “Admit it, you love it.”

“Do not.”

“Do too,” you shot back, grinning as you sang along with Freddie’s soaring vocals, tapping his knee in time with the beat. “Just give it a chance.”

Dean’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. He failed miserably. “Fine,” he relented, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in an almost reluctant rhythm. “It’s not the worst.”

You gasped in mock horror. “Not the worst? Dean Winchester, you’re practically a fan.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he said, but the affection in his tone was unmistakable.

The song swelled, filling the car with its operatic grandeur, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t just music anymore; it was a bridge between your two worlds, a shared heartbeat in the quiet night.

As the final notes faded, Dean reached over and took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” he murmured, his voice soft.

You grinned, leaning into him. “And yet, you keep me around.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to yours, warm and unguarded. “Damn right, I do.”

For the rest of the drive, the two of you traded songs—Metallica melting into The Smiths, Bon Jovi tangling with Led Zeppelin. By the time you pulled into the motel parking lot, the playlist had turned into something uniquely yours, a messy, beautiful mashup of everything you both loved.

Dean turned off the engine, and for a moment, the world went quiet. He leaned back in his seat and looked over at you, his face softer than you’d seen it all day.

“Guess it doesn’t matter what we listen to,” he said quietly. “As long as it’s with you.”

You felt something catch in your chest, something warm and good. Leaning across the seat, you kissed him, your hand brushing against the back of his neck. “Same here, Dean. Same here.”

He smiled against your lips, the kind of smile that didn’t need words.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester drabble #dean winchester #dean supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester 🪽#dean winchester x fem reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x y/n

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soelstress · 8 months ago

Text

Going For The Gold

Pairing: Lance Tucker x female!reader

Summary: You show the God of Gymnastics what going the distance really means.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (m & f receiving)

A/N 1 - This is my second submission for @mercurial-chuckles Smutber Fest. Thank you for extending the smut fest & apologies this is a few days late!

A/N 2 - Prompts - Once again I asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... and of course I was given five yet again so two stories it is 🙈 The prompts this time are mirror sex & marathon sex

A/N 3 - GIF from Hyperfixations Galore via Google Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

“Hey there gorgeous”. You prayed it was a mistake - that the greeting was not aimed at you. Or better yet, the annoyingly familiar voice did not belong to who you suspected. Surely fate was not that cruel. “I thought I recognised those pretty lips”.

Yep, fate was that cruel. A big patriotic mass plopped into the chair beside yours, ordering tequila. Subtly, you gave him a once over. Lance Tucker hadn’t changed in the year since you’d last met. Still proudly flaunting his Team USA coaching gear, his body appeared to be as toned as ever. For a moment, your gaze lingered on his face. For goodness sake couldn’t he have gotten wrinkles or something, anything to make him a little less appealing? Sonofabitch - he had eye crinkles, looking dignified as he flashed a smile at the bartender. Lusciously thick brown hair, twinkly blue eyes and pouty pink lips that were sinful with a sweet smile. Until he either smirked or opened his mouth... then you wanted to smack him. “Fuck me”. Shit, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Gladly. My room or yours?” Lance smirked, popping a toothpick into his mouth. Your hand twitched as his lips curled. “Seriously though. What brings you here?”

Leaning back, you took a sip of your drink and watched as he leaned toward you. “Here on business. I go where I’m needed”. He nodded, remembering that you never stayed in one place too long due to your job. “What about you? Last I’d heard you ditched Amherst and flew to sunny LA with Maggie to keep rolling in those gold medals but then your star pupil became your baby mama”.

Lance's smirk faded and he leaned back into his seat, reaching for one of his tequila shots. “The baby wasn’t mine”. He eyed the golden liquid before knocking it back. “She’d been seeing someone before we flew out to LA. She only screwed me to try and claim the kid was mine. Her guy wasn’t too happy about that and told me everything. I reported that she was pregnant, she got kicked off the team and I had to deal with the fallout”.

Your stomach swooped in sympathy. Lance was a Grade A prick and the cockiest asshole you’d ever met - called himself the God of Gymnastics, poached his rivals gold winning protégé and slept with said rival to sabotage her relationship - all in the name of revenge for her bronze medal overshadowing his silver and gold performances years prior. But no one deserved to be lied to like that, especially about a child he believed was his. “I’m sorry, Lance”.

Lance chuckled mirthlessly, reaching for his second shot. “Bet Greggory will laugh her ass off when you tell her ‘Fucker Tucker’ got fucked himself”.

You shook your head. “I haven’t seen Hope since you two hooked up a year ago. My family were the ones who told me what you were up to these days”.

Lance cocked his head. “A year ago? Wait, that’s when we hooked up as well”. You nodded, not expanding further. Frowning, he turned to face you. “Hey, you’re not mad about that are you? We didn’t have an arrangement-“

Sighing heavily, you took a bigger swig of your drink before fully facing him. “No, I’m not mad that you hooked up with Hope the night after me”. You were telling the truth, you weren’t mad about that. Lance was right - the two of you had no relationship, that last hook up was your first time sleeping together. You had slept with him the first night, but work had prevented you meeting up the next night. You had been on your way to ask Lance if he wanted to hook up again on the third day, but instead you overheard him complaining that Hope had been a bad lay and gone on in vivid detail to describe what had happened between them the night prior which had sounded very similar to your night with him. Though apparently the increased number of positions Hope used hadn’t impressed Lance in the slightest. Shaking your head, you saw Lance had leaned closer and placed his hand over yours. “Seriously Lance, I’m not mad about it”.

Gently, Lance caught your chin and looked at you. Not knowing what he was looking for, you kept his gaze until the smirk teased his mouth again. “Good. I’m glad”. His thumb brushed your lip, eyes darkening when it popped open. “So… back to my question… your room or mine?”

A big part of you knew this was a mistake. Though it was clear no strings attached was what Lance was offering, no good could come of it. But on the other hand, part of you wanted to see if it would be like your last hook up.

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It was. Exactly the same. Within seconds of entering his room, both of you were naked. You weren’t a gymnast let alone an athlete, barely managing to squeeze a basic fitness routine in your schedule but that didn’t matter to Lance. Just like before he was contorting into various positions, more focused on Olympic gymnastics rather than mattress gymnastics. He’d been at it for a while, changing positions every time you started to settle into a rhythm. Neither of you had cum yet. “Yeah. Yeah. Fuck” he groaned, now shifting to press you against the wall. “Fuckin… God of Gymnastics”. His thrusts began to speed up.

Something inside you snapped. There was no way you’d let him use the same routine with you now that he’d used on you AND Hope last year. And there was not a snowball's chance in Hell you were being left high and dry like before. You were going to make this God pray to you. Shifting, you moved so his cock slipped out when he pulled back. Lance moved on instinct, trying to sink back into you. He froze when your hand gripped his cock tightly. Panting heavily, his eyes never left yours as you began to stroke him. “Last time, we agreed on hot marathon sex. You’ve got stamina, Tucker”. His smirk vanished at your next words. “But you and I have very different opinions about marathon sex. You’re more focused on the positions than the pleasure. So now… I’m gonna coach you”.

You led him, literally by the balls, to the bathroom and started up the walk in shower. Once the water was warm you grabbed the body wash and began to work him over, petting and caressing every line, curve and hollow. A pleased sound escaped you when he reciprocated. He was trying to urge you along by focusing specifically on your breasts, but since he’d skipped the foreplay both times you decided a little retribution was in order. Your hands slid down and he grinned lazily as you slowly began to stroke his cock, giving him a soapy slippery handjob. Once the suds had been rinsed and you saw Lance was close to the edge, you gripped the base of him. His blue eyes burned with lust and confusion. You carefully sank to your knees. Licking your lips, you offered a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Lance whined softly, hips jutting for more attention. Smiling, you placed wet kisses and licks up and down his shaft watching as the thick flesh seemed to follow your mouth, almost enchanting him like a snake charmer. Eyes locked with his, you slowly began to suck him into your mouth. “Oh fuck!” Lance threw his head back, one arm splaying on the wall to keep his balance while the other tangled into your hair. You slowly continued to suck him in, almost with your nose to the base when his grip tightened and he tried to tug. Your nails dug into his thick thighs and when his gaze landed on you he could see the warning flash in your eyes. His whines cut off when you resumed the tortuous pace, bringing him to the edge twice before stopping. “Fuck… gorgeous… please…” Lance moaned loudly, the noises echoing off the wall and giving you a high that you were making him react this way. Looking up, you gently pushed him back against the chilled wall at the same time you sucked firmly. “FUCK!” Lance cried out, gripping your hair tightly but not pulling as he came in your mouth. Swallowing his spend, you stood and walked out of the shower, grabbing a towel to briskly rub down. Dazedly, Lance followed your example.

It took him a few seconds but he then moved, caging you against the wall of the shower. The cold was a sharp contrast to your heated body but it felt amazing when Lance pressed his body to yours. His fingers glided over your nipples, down your belly and to the heat between your legs. He teased your entrance before sliding one thick finger in, cursing softly. “So damn snug. God…” He hissed when he slipped in another finger. As he rubbed deep within you he felt your walls begin to tremble. “C’mon gorgeous. Give it to me”. With a moan you tipped into your orgasm, not noticing that Lance dropped to his knees and lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. He stared at your dripping heat, licking his lips. “S’pretty” he murmured, tongue darting out when you clenched around nothing. “I can’t… I gotta” he mumbled before his tongue made a thick long stripe into your folds. “God… you’re liquid gold, gorgeous”. He dove back in with an enthusiasm that surprised you, sounds of satisfaction spilling from him. His nose nudged your clit as he eagerly lapped away. You whimpered when his tongue speared into you. Grabbing his hair you pulled him closer and cried out at his happy moan, the vibrations almost pushing you over the edge. Lance gave a few soft licks to your clit before suckling gently. A long whine echoed in the bathroom as you peaked again.

Looking down, you saw a tiny smirk grace Lance's glistening lips and the ache to take him down a peg resurfaced. Once he stood, you pressed up against him and kissed fiercely. Both of you moaned at the taste of the other’s juices. Jumping up, you wrapped your legs around his waist, one of his arms underneath to support you while the other pulled you tight against him. “Window” you murmured. His brows shot up to his hairline but he carried you through before carefully setting you down. Turning you pressed away from the glass, arching your back as Lance slowly thrust himself inside you. One hand held you close while the other roamed your body - squeezed your boobs, brushed your clit. A few more circuits had you nearly seeing stars and Lance was also heaven bound before you pulled him tight against you to stop him moving.

”No! Please gorgeous… ” he pleaded, desperately trying to somehow find that delicious friction. “No… beautiful… please baby”.

“Look, Tucker. Look at yourself”. Glancing up, Lance saw himself in the window reflection. His blue eyes glistened with tears at being denied, his face flushed with desire and his lips swollen from being nibbled and kissed. He whined, wanting so desperately to find his release. “You wanna cum?”

”Yes. Please gorgeous… baby. Please” he whispered.

”Show me what you got”.

Bracing his hand against the glass, Lance encouraged you to arch your back more and began to thrust slowly and deeply within you. Feeling his heavy balls start to tighten, he sped up slightly. “No… c’mon gorgeous… need to feel you… please… please baby”. Desperately he sucked at your neck at the same time he tweaked your nipple. Your walls began to quake and his cock jerked within you. Lance whined. “Fuck… feels so good. You feel so good…”

As he continued to thrust, you noticed that his whines were growing higher. Mind whirring, you encouraged him to gently pull out. His movements halted and you glanced down to see his cock was still hard. “Feel good, baby?” Almost shyly, he nodded. “Think you can do one more?” Head cocked, Lance looked adorably innocent for a moment. He nodded again. “Then lay down on the bed”.

Without hesitating Lance laid down, eyes sparkling as you followed. Carefully, you sat on top of him and slowly guided his length into you. You moaned loudly but still heard his whine. “Shit… s’too much baby… I can’t…”

”Yeah you can”. You gently ran your hands all over his body, kissing and sucking his neck, jaw and lips. “C’mon… c’mon Coach”. At your soft coo, Lance began to buck up into you, hands gripping your waist tightly and keeping you attached to him. “Yes… oh God… Lance!” You cried out as stars exploded in front of you.

Lance silently screamed as you milked him again, the pleasure almost painful. Once both your highs had ended, he held you close. Chest heaving, he saw you tracing figures on his skin. “So… how’d I do in marathon sex Coach?” he murmured.

”Silver”. Shocked, his eyes darted to you. “Your initial efforts were half assed at best though your performance did improve”. Lance's lip trembled. “But then again you know practice makes perfect…”. As you smirked, you felt a gentle nudge against your inner thigh. “Ready to go for gold?”

#indulge with chuckles #smutty september fest 2024 #sebastian stan characters #lance tucker #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you

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