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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days

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Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: explicit sexual content, canon-typical swearing, oral sex (female & male receiving), F/M/M/M/M, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), multiple creampie, multiple orgasms, group sex, praise, restraints/restraining

Word Count: 3.7k

A short dress is your idea of an invitation for a bit of fun.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

Under the shade of a tree, you inhale deeply, savoring the fresh spring air.

This is a party. A gathering. A break. A reward for a job well done.

But it’s not like you’re the one in the line of fire. That isn’t your job. Your one and only endeavor at work is making sure Kate Laswell has everything she needs while at the office. Field work is not your specialty, and you’re thankful for that.

You make phone calls. You bring Laswell her coffee. You keep her appointments and meetings. It’s office work. Clerical. But it keeps you safe, fed, and paid.

Amongst the crowd are familiar and unfamiliar faces. There has to be at least sixty people here in total, and yet the space doesn’t feel cramped. You were given an address, and this has to be someone’s backyard, but you couldn’t say who. And if anyone knows, they aren’t saying.

To your left is a large wood patio. It expands across almost the entirety of the back of the house. Most of it is covered by two connecting pergolas. Underneath the pergolas is a massive buffet and open bar. People loiter there, talking and laughing. The patio opens up to a large green space with a small pond and garden near the back fence. The majority of the space is open but there are a few tables and chairs set up. Music comes from speakers you can’t see, and lights line the fence.

It’s all very pleasant, but crowds are not your thing.

You scan the crowd but no one is looking in your direction. Bringing your plastic cup up to your lips, you scan the crowd one more time. Your gaze falls on Captain John Price. He’s having a conversation with someone you don’t recognize, and out of uniform, he’s even more handsome.

There is no silly, floppy hat or beanie. No windbreaker or boots. Price wears a button up shirt, the top two undone and slightly open with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He appears so casual and calm, a cool sexiness that instantly sparks heat low in your belly.

Your cup is almost to your lips, pausing as you gaze at him. In this moment—this fleeting second—Price’s gaze finds you. He winks. Smirks. Returns to the conversation.

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you nearly drench the front of your linen dress with red punch.

Glancing away, you only find the rest of Price’s team. Kyle Garrick, John MacTavish, and Simon Riley loiter near the deck. Kyle and Johnny talk, their faces animated and engaged. Simon stands with his arms crossed, but he’s not listening.

He’s staring at you, those dark eyes of his piercing you down to your marrow.

It’s silly, really, how all four of them make your stomach flip. How they each in turn seem to awaken something dark and primal in your blood.

While it doesn’t shame you in the least, you have flirted with all of them. It’s hard not to. Price is the one you see the most, and always makes an effort to stop by to see you if he has business with Laswell. Kyle, Johnny, and Simon all have to go out of their way to see you, but they do it. Often.

And it’s not just the flirting or sultry glances. You’ve allowed them each a touch or two. Of the four, you gave Johnny permission to kiss you. It was chaste. Quick. Nothing that curls the toes. But it turned his face beet-red.

But being with any of them is just a fantasy. It’s unprofessional. And you don’t need to know what Laswell might think of you for taking any further action with them.

Sighing, you turn away from Simon’s penetrating stare. You knock back the red punch, the alcohol in it hardly registering on your tongue. Removing yourself is the best solution. Perhaps you could hide in the bathroom for a bit. Splash some cold water on your face.

Depositing the empty plastic cup in the nearest trashcan, you head for the patio, passing the buffet and open bar, striding inside through the open kitchen doors. You nod in acknowledgement to a few people there, and they match it, but they immediately return to their conversations, not all that interested in your presence.

The nearest bathroom is just off the kitchen, but you want to hide. You aim for the hallway with the intent of entering the bathroom at the very end. No one is really using it, and it’s the perfect place to catch your breath.

As you reach out for the golden bathroom handle, a large hand shoots out, encasing your wrist, haling all movement. You turn sharply, ready to bite back at the man who decided it’s okay to touch you without your permission, only to freeze.

Your eyes widen as you realize who the hand belongs to.

“John,” you whisper. You didn’t even hear him approach. He completely snuck up on you.

“Where you off to?” he asks softly. He looks a little concerned, but there is something else under all of that.

While you want to answer his question, to give in a bit, you don’t enjoy being grabbed.

“Is that your business?” you reply, arching one eyebrow, chest heaving slightly as your heartrate quickens.

John’s head tilts slightly, his gaze assessing for a moment. The two of you are locked in, and you’re not sure if you’ve completely fumbled the exchange. John releases you from his stare but he doesn’t release your wrist.

Instead, he glances over his shoulder, and you follow the movement. Right there, in the hall, are three familiar people.

Kyle and Johnny casually lean against the wall while Ghost stands in the middle, watching the opening of the hallway.

You’re not frightened. Not afraid. If anything, you’re becoming slick between the thighs. There is a reason they’re here, and you want to explore what it is.

Price’s gaze returns to you and his gaze is soft. “Do you want it to be my business?”

You press in a bit, and Price’s mouth forms into a self-satisfied grin. “Does it include all four of you?” you counter.

“It can.”

His grip tightens slightly. The hold is almost desperately possessive.

What the hell. You should just do it. Have some fucking fun for once. If anything, this will be the one and only time. Get this ridiculous need out of your system all at once and be done with them.

“Then make it your business,” you murmur.

Price’s grip remains firm as he pulls you away from the bathroom door. He spins you around, his free hand reaching out to open the door that’s across the hall from the bathroom. You hear the creak of the hinges as it swings inward, and then you’re walking backward into the room, Price herding you along.

Behind him follows Kyle. And behind Kyle, Johnny. Then, finally, Simon. He’s the last to enter the room and the one that shuts the door, locking it without even glancing at it. He leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

Once the door is shut, you expect Price to release you. But he doesn’t. He keeps hold of your wrist, drawing you against him, pinning your arm to your chest. With his other hand, Price clasps your chin between thumb and forefinger, keeping your face pointed in his direction.

“You want to back out?” he asks. “Just say the word. We’ll stop.”

Do you want to stop? No. Your blood is buzzing, nearly burning beneath your skin. You want to see where this goes, and how much you can take before you’re unable to understand reality.

“Nervous, Captain?”

He laughs, throaty and low before his lips come dangerously close to yours. “No, love. I like that you’re willing to share.”

Someone shifts behind Price’s shoulder. Your gaze starts to drift but he jerks you back to attention.

“You’ve been teasing us with that dress,” murmurs Price.

Releasing your wrist, Price drops his hand to lightly tug on the skirt of the linen dress you wear.

It’s incredibly comfortable. The color an off-white. It stops at about mid-lower thigh, a bit above the knee. The top of the dress is solid fabric back and front except for the straps which are crisscrossed, leaving your shoulders and arms mostly bare.

“Didn’t do it on purpose,” you reply just as softly.

Price makes a sound in his throat that goes straight to your pussy. “Somehow I believe that,” he chuckles, fisting your dress even tighter. It only pulls you closer, and even like this, you feel his hardness.

You’re so focused on Price that when another pair of hands join his, you almost jump. Price eases his hold on you a bit, and your body twists in the direction of these new hands. It’s Johnny. He has one hand on the back of your neck while the other plays with the hem of your dress. It’s just a gentle toying, one you don’t entirely notice until his fingers are slipping under it, brushing against your bare thigh.

“You want this? All of us?” Johnny sounds skeptical.

Your lips part at his question, the very image of them taking you one after the other only making you slicker.

You nod, chest heaving. “Yes.”

Price’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, drawing your attention back to him. There is a pause—a second of breathing—and then he releases you. He walks backward toward the door as Simon moves away from it and Kyle closes in.

Johnny sidesteps, placing himself directly behind you. His hands slide over you, finding new homes. He wraps one around your waist, hand splaying wide over your pelvis. His other reaches down to dip beneath the hem of your dress just shy of your left leg.

You believe that Johnny is going to slide his hand between your clenched thighs. But he doesn’t. His arm hooks under your thigh, pressing up, lifting your foot from the floor. You’re forced to balance on your right foot. You instinctually reach up, grasping the back of Johnny’s neck.

But with Johnny’s support, you don’t topple over. His strength keeps you grounded.

With his hand on your pelvis, Johnny begins to bunch the fabric in his fist, lifting it away from your body. It is slow, almost agonizing in how all of their gazes are fixed on that one point.

You don’t need to see to know when you’re bare. You feel the air against you.

You are open for their inspection, and they do not appear disappointed. If anything, they’re fucking hungry.

“She’s wearing fucking nothing under there,” growls Simon, almost like he’s upset but doesn’t want to be.

“Teasing us on purpose,” says Price not to anyone in particular but to reiterate what he said early, that the dress is a tease, and this is just one more thing to add to it.

Simon moves, striding toward you like a predator. Slowly, his hand clasps the front of your neck, and you instinctually arch into Johnny. Kyle sinks to his knees before you.

“Gaz is gonna eat that pretty pussy,” murmurs Johnny in your ear. His breath is a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. “And then we’re all going to fuck you. One after the other. Fill you with our cum. You want that, love?”

You crave them like a nourishing meal. Accepting won’t hurt. It’ll only fill the gap, satiating the thirst that boils in your blood.

“Yes,” you affirm, putting all the control in their hands now.

“Good girl,” growls Simon, gently squeezing, those dark eyes of his locking in on your parted lips.

Kyle’s hands are on your thighs. They rotate. Squeeze. Slide toward your hip bone.

“Look at that,” he says, absently. Kyle’s fingers lightly brush over your sex. Then, he is parting you with two fingers, and in that glide, you can hear just how wet you are.

“Hardly touched you,” croons Kyle, his mouth dangerously close to what’s aching for him.

He leans in, and goes in for a taste. It’s tentative. Testing. Just a little touch of his tongue against flesh. But it’s enough for your pussy to clench, for you to whimper as if he’s completely pressed his mouth to you.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Johnny. He nuzzles your neck, gaze downward.

You’re watching too. Everyone is. There is no point in hiding anything. You are spread open.

Kyle’s tongue dips again, this time tracing a line between his two fingers. He starts at your entrance, teasing it before moving upward to circle your clit slowly. He is languid about it. Taking his time like there isn’t a party happening just outside the door.

“Oh, you’re sweet, love,” he murmurs before going in fully.

There is no tracing of his tongue. It is only steady strokes and gentle flicks against your clit. Kyle knows what he’s doing. He knows to stick to a specific pace. To not change course. He feasts until your legs shake and it is only Johnny’s strength keeping you aloft.

The clench comes, shuddering outward. Your breathing intensifies, becoming desperate gasps as Kyle continues to work your clit. Simon still holds onto the front of your throat, and he does not let go.

“Look at me,” croons Simon, tilting your head in his direction. “At me. My eyes.”

Johnny murmurs sweet nothings against your throat as he watches Kyle lick and then suck your clit into his mouth.

Your hips buck against Kyle’s mouth as your orgasm consumes, absorbing all your strength, turning your muscles into sticky goo.

There are lips pressing against your inner thigh, and then Kyle’s voice drifts up from between your legs. “She’s ready.”

“But we aren’t,” replies Simon.

Johnny guides your leg down until your foot is flat again. From there, he presses on your shoulders, and you automatically sink to your knees.

“Be good and suck Gaz’s cock,” commands Simon as his hand slides from the front to the back of your neck.

Johnny steps back, his presence evaporating as Kyle undoes the front of his jeans. You are hungry. Feral. Desperate. The moment Kyle’s cock his free from his jeans, you’re reaching for him, sucking him down.

Kyle groans loudly, head tilting back as you throat him to the root.

“Fucking beautiful,” comes Johnny’s voice somewhere behind and to the right of you.

Simon grunts in agreement, his hand still firmly planted on your neck. His fingers dig into your hair, and even though you have some control, Simon has the rest.

He keeps you on your knees and your head still as Kyle thrusts shallowly into your mouth. You are wet between your thighs, the skin there rubbing against itself. Your hands rise to grab the front of Kyle’s jeans, but Johnny tuts, grasping both arms and holding them behind you.

“Breathe through your nose. Good girl. Like that.” These praises are all Simon, and you desperately want to please him.

You’re nearly still as Kyle claims your throat. But he’s careful. Thoughtful. He’s fucking your mouth yet he knows your limit. When your throat contracts, wanting to gag, he retreats until you’ve caught your breath, only to return to his pace from before.

“Fuck,” he mutters, abruptly pulling out of your mouth. You cough, saliva and cum coating your lips and chin. “Bend her over the edge of the bed.”

Johnny releases your arms and Simon is the one that helps you to your feet.

“Look at me,” says Simon, drawing you attention to his face. “You good?”

This can all end if you want it to, but you don’t. You’re not full. Not whimpering. You want them inside.

“I’m good,” and your answer is a bit raspy.

Simon nods and then he’s turning you around, his hands pressing on your back until you’re completely bent.

The bed is a bit high, and you have to go up on your toes. Your hands dig into the comforter, but you don’t feel stable. Not really.

There are hands on your thighs. They drive upward, flipping your dress up to expose your ass to the room. One of those hands comes down on the right cheek. It isn’t hard, just enough to bounce it.

“Open for us,” says Simon. You wiggle your hips, sliding your feet outward slightly. “More, love. Yes. Perfect.”

Simon shifts partially into view, and then he’s grabbing your forearms, holding you down to the bed itself. You have no idea who is behind you, but you feel the head of their cock at your entrance.

There is no condom, and you do not give a fuck. You want to feel each of them in turn, to feel them fill you up, to fuck each other’s cum deeper into you.

The head presses in. Enters. And then you’re being filled, being fed more and more until you’re stuffed. You moan loudly.

“Taking me so well,” groans Johnny as you clamp around him. “Bloody hell you’re tight.”

Johnny squeezes your ass, guiding your hips up slightly as he starts to drive in. The angle is deep, and your feet slide against the floor. He isn’t soft, but he’s not rough either. Johnny is steady, rolling his hips deep enough to hit that sweet spot.

You are soft. Pliant. Smiling against the comforter as Johnny fucks you. His soft grunts become gentle groans. Then his hips stutter, thrust forward, creating a seal. You feel his release flood your pussy, and you purposefully tighten those muscles, encouraging him to stay inside.

And Johnny does, for a moment.

He lightly pats your ass before withdrawing. The loss of him is immediate, and yet there is another ready to take his place. Simon does not move from his spot. You turn your head and find Price still leaning against the door. There is an apparent bulge in the front of his pants.

It is Kyle that settles behind you, and like Johnny, he finds the same rhythm. While Johnny felt girthy, Kyle is absolute perfection. The stretch is good but not too tight, and even though every stroke is pointedly deep, there is nothing but pleasure.

Kyle’s hand slips between the bed and your body. He finds your clit. Toys with it. Plays. You’re still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, and the next one comes up suddenly. You cry out, squeezing on him as he finishes.

In that blissful state, you don’t notice Simon removing his hands from your forearms. It isn’t until he’s driving inside that you realize it, and you nearly come off the bed. Simon is absurdly large, and your back arches, fingers digging into the comforter as your groan into it.

Simon is not as gentle as them. He fucks their cum into you like he’s made to do so.

And Price is still off to the side. Still watching. Almost indifferent except for that outline in his pants.

Simon’s only tell is a low grunt before he too is finishing inside you.

You are overly stuffed. Full. Simon removes his cock from your pussy as their mixed cum begins to drip out onto your thighs.

You think Price will come. That he will take Simon’s place. Instead, you’re being moved, flipped onto your back. Your legs are brought up, and then Johnny is back, sliding home again. Simon stands to the right of him. He reaches out, runs his hand over your stomach before delving down to find your clit.

Simon circles it as Johnny’s cock pistons in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours sharply with each thrust. It isn’t long before the muscles in your body seize and then relax. Johnny doesn’t find his end until Simon has you clenching a second time.

Johnny steps back, a pleased grin on his face as he stuffs himself back into his pants. Your legs are weak noodles and you’re thankful for the bed beneath you.

Price pushes off from the door. He walks casually, his hands slowly undoing and then removing his belt. You push up onto your elbows, adjusting. Price observes you. His gaze is on your face and then it drops to your pussy.

Reaching out, Price runs his fingers through the mess between your legs.

“Mind if I add to that?” he asks, gaze returning to your face.

You smile and spread your legs wider.

“Good fucking girl,” he croons.

Price grasps your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed. Shoving his pants down enough to free his cock, he rubs the head over the mess, coating himself in it.

He lines himself up, and then buries himself to the hilt. Your fingers dig into the bed and then reach for him. Price adjusts his grip on your thighs, pressing them up a bit and toward your chest.

You are at his mercy as he drives into you. The only sounds in the room are your breathy moans and the obscene wetness that is your pussy.

All those flirty invitations and teasing smiles has led to this. And you don’t entirely mind if this is all it is. That the five of you are just working it all out of your systems. You’re completely satisfied.

As Price’s thrusts becoming erratic, he lets go of your thigh only to grasp your throat. He leans forward as he brings you up off the bed. You are scrunched, and when his lips meet yours, you come undone just as he does.

You hang. Suspended. And then you’re melting into the soft comforter.

Someone is cleaning you up, wiping away the excess mess. And then you’re brought to your feet. Everything is unsteady as you focus on who it is holding you.

“Good? Or you need a minute?” Price’s palm runs over your hair, smoothing it.

“I need a minute,” you murmur, because it’s true.

Kyle, Johnny, and Simon all start to file out. With the balaclava you can’t discern Simon’s expression. But Kyle is smug. Content. Johnny is almost sheepish, his cheeks slightly flushed as they leave.

It is over. Done.

Price runs his thumb over your bottom lip. “If you ever want this again, you know where to find me.”

He leans forward as if to kiss you but instead brushes his lips against the curve of your cheek. He gives your hand a squeeze. A silent goodbye.

Then he too is gone. The door shut.

You place your hand over your chest and laugh as a trail of cum slips down the inside of your thigh.

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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Like I Can (Part 3)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

(All’s well that ends well❣️ Enjoy!)

You’d been on edge all day.

Having slept terribly the night before, you’d woken up early and giving up on the idea of going back to sleep had ended up at a sunrise yoga class, hoping that some movement would help you clear your mind. By the end of the hour you were even more frustrated than you were before you arrived, the poses feeling unnaturally forced instead of flowing seamlessly as they usually did.

So much for some goddamn inner peace.

Work was even worse. You had arrived to find that the espresso machine was broken. And whoever made a pot on the ancient drip machine, that was undoubtedly pulled out of a dingy storage closet somewhere, clearly hated everyone else since it tasted like tar. You could barely focus enough to clear out your inbox, when your work nemesis started breathing down your neck about a proposal that wasn’t due for another two weeks.

Time was dragging on. And every time you looked at the clock thinking it had been at least an hour since you’d last checked, were continually shocked to see that barely fifteen minutes had passed by. Thankfully it was Friday, so your boss didn’t care when you called it a day and left at lunch. It was better for everyone this way.

You had tried painting your nails, but didn’t have the patience to let them dry and smudged them trying to open a package of crackers. Ignoring the crumbs that got everywhere as you ate them while working the cotton pad over the remnants of your pretty pink polish. Your new favorite show didn’t hold your attention like it usually did and you found yourself mindlessly scrolling on your phone, missing most of the plot you’d had to restart it. Twice.

Not even the scenic drive along the coast to the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date at had done anything to alleviate your nerves.

You had been surprised at the choice of location when you had received the text message with the information about this particular date. As much as you enjoyed going to the Hard Deck, you were very much looking forward to drinking something other than a beer. Sure, Penny could make a mean spicy margarita, but sometimes an overpriced aesthetically pleasing cocktail just hit the spot better than anything else.

But most of all, you were thankful for a change of pace and the privacy this offered you. You had never been one for the spotlight, and dating on display had left you feeling drained.

You’re sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker dining chair on the outdoor patio of the new trendy fusion restaurant you’ve been dying to come to. From your spot tucked away in the corner you can see the ocean waves rolling in and back out again. The golden rays already promising a stunning sunset later in the evening.

The foliage of the giant potted monsteras and birds of paradise made the terrace feel like a lush oasis, and contrasted stylishly against the large painted terracotta tiles on the ground. The pergola that covered it was dotted wisteria amongst the other climbing greenery, and numerous oversized hanging rattan sconces. The dainty lights woven throughout reflecting off the wine glasses on the table.

This was exactly what you needed. Too bad you couldn’t let yourself enjoy it, the twisted knots in the pit of your stomach had served a constant reminder of your nerves all day.

You had used this date as an excuse to finally buy the deep green floral dress you’d had your eye on for ages. The gentle drape of the neck was subtly sophisticated, while the high slit on the side added some serious sex appeal.

There was nothing wrong with a little retail therapy you had told yourself as you’d swiped your credit card. If you looked good, maybe it would help you to feel good.

In all honesty, it probably had a little too much sex appeal since you couldn’t stop fidgeting in your chair trying to get the silky dress cover up more of your thigh that was currently displayed rather provocatively. It felt like the more you tried to get it to lay right the more of your leg was exposed.

It probably didn’t help that you couldn’t stop the restless bouncing of your leg. You weren’t usually an antsy person, leg bouncing had always been more of Rooster’s anxious habit than yours.

Maybe you’ll feel less exposed once you draped the linen napkin across your lap. You’re tempted to do it now, but you don’t want to disturb the artfully laid out tablescape before your date has arrived.

It had been three weeks of back to back truly terrible dates. You could see the finish line now, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t wearing on you. It had sounded like fun in theory, but now you weren’t so sure you would said yes again if you were offered a do-over.

You were tired.

Tired of going through the motions with men who could hardly be bothered to do the bare minimum. Tired of trying to sell the best version of yourself. Tired of putting on a show when all you wanted to find was an easy kind of love.

And this particular date had you more on edge and anxious than any of the other ones you’d gone on.

Even if you were pressed, you could not remember a single thing about the guy Payback had set you up with on your most recent blind date.

That evening you hadn’t even bothered trying to put together a cute outfit for the meeting. Instead, the only real effort you’d opted to put in was painting your lips a bright red as an attempt to psych yourself up for it. You didn’t usually wear such a bold color, but when you did it never failed to make you feel more brilliant.

And while you couldn’t remember anything about your date, what you did vividly remember was the fight you got into with Rooster that night.

You had been coming back from the restroom and on your way back to your date when you had bumped into him rounding the corner.

“Sorry, that was my fault,” he’d said as he reached out to steady you with hand going to your waist, dropping it once he realized it was you. “Oh, hey.”

Glancing over to your date who seemed absorbed in some game he was playing on his phone, you figured he wouldn’t miss you if you spent a few extra minutes away to catch up with Rooster.

He had been acting really distant lately, taking a couple days to respond to texts rather than a couple of hours like it usually took him. Natasha had told you about the rigorous training they were being put though, and you had assumed it probably had something to do with that. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between you two.

Rooster was already pulling away from you and taking a step towards the bar when you reached out grabbing his wrist to keep him with you. Looking around for a quiet place to talk, you’d heard him sigh behind you, but still held on to him as you made your way to one of the high-top tables in the corner by the empty stage.

You’d stopped and let go as you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you with an expression that landed somewhere between expectant and exasperated. The cuffs of his shirt straining around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well?” he grunted out.

Was he mad at you? You couldn’t think of any recent arguments you’d had recently that would explain the harsh tone he was using with you.

“Is everything ok? I feel like you’ve been really off lately. You know I’m always here for you, right?” Your hand was already reaching out to touch him, but you resisted the urge not wanting to further agitate him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised you even have time to talk to me with all these washouts you’ve been wasting your time on. You’re the one with the busy social calendar, not me.” He was looking over the top of your head avoiding your gaze now, the bitterness in his voice had stunned you.

“Seriously? What is the matter with you?”

He’d never been so intentionally callous with you before and it hurt.

“Listen, if there is an issue me dating the people your friends have been setting me up with, you need to let me know,” you’d said pointing a firm finger at him, your anger rising. “This was supposed to be a fun no pressure situation, but I don’t want to be in the middle of this if things are getting heated between you guys. It’s not worth it to me. But you don’t get to ignore me for days and then claim that I’m the one avoiding you.”

He made a noise of frustration as he dragged both hands through his curls. You could see the flex of his jaw as he’d clenched his teeth together.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he ducked down to that his eyes were level with your, and you could see the remorse in them. “You’re right, that was shitty of me to take it out on you. I’m just… tired.”

You’d simply nodded at him, feeling like you weren’t on the same page as him didn’t sit well with you. “Phoenix told me about your new training program, it seems intense,” your voice sounded small even to your own ears.

“Yeah, the training,” he’d sighed out pausing for a moment as he weighed his words, rubbing at his chest, “It’s taking a toll on me, but that’s my problem. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

“Are we good?” you searched his eyes, your friendship with him was so important to you.

“You and me? We’re good, kid. Always.” He’d reached out and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to where the group was gathered together pretending like they weren’t just watching your argument play out.

Needless to say, your head was somewhere elsewhere entirely as you made your way back to your date. You’d felt bad being so distracted, but your mind just kept playing the argument on repeat. It was like your brain was trying to pull apart every little word to decode something that you didn’t think was there.

After Payback’s friend had left, you rejoined everyone else around the pool table. You couldn’t tell if the mood was off or if it was just you reading into things, since they hadn’t been prodding you with questions like they usually did.

Natasha was in the middle of giving you a glowing review of the man she had been bragging about since she first offered to set you up, when Rooster came to sit with you both.

“He’s just your type. He’s an engineer, so he’s smart. He’s got that whole glasses wearing and floppy hair thing going for him. And he’s funny. Rumor has it that he talked back to his Rear Admiral one time and got away with it because the guy had found him amusing. I fully expect you to name one of your future children with him after me.”

Rooster had surprised the pair of you when he stood up so violently that he almost knocked over the beers on the table.

“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Nat had exclaimed as you both worked to rescue the teetering bottles from becoming casualties from his sudden movement.

You had no idea what he was going to say as an explanation for why he’d jumped out of his seat the way he did, but what he ended up unexpectedly announcing instead of answering Nat’s question had sent you into a tailspin.

So now here you are in a restaurant you’d be dying to go to, fidgety and anxious in a probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative dress for a first date with the guy who Rooster was willing to break his long-standing rules for to set you up with.

To say you were feeling the pressure was an understatement. No one knew you like Rooster did. He’d seen you at your best and at your worst. He wouldn’t just pick any random guy he knew, he would be picking the one who he thought would be the best for you.

The thought should be comforting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.

You pick up your phone again and double check the time in the text that Rooster had sent you with all the details for your date with his friend.

It was either that do that again or moving the ever-so-slightly crooked gold salad fork back into place.

You’re about to open Instagram for the third time since you sat down, turning when you hear a throat clear purposely behind you.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

For Rooster, when you’d first agreed to participate in the bet with his friends those dates started off as annoying inconveniences. Just inconsequential disruptions that got in the way of his time with you.

You were his best friend and at his bar, yet he felt like he’d hardly seen you these past couple of weeks- or at least not as much as he would have liked.

Sure, he got some time with you here and there at the end of the night like when you had late night tacos on the beach. Or when he’d taught you his favorite pool trick, well more like attempted to teach you, he loved how stunningly bad you were at the game. But he felt like he was competing with these idiots his friends had picked out for your time and your attention.

He wasn’t used to sharing you. In the past, if you had a date that conflicted with something spontaneous he wanted to do or something that the group had planned together, more often than not he could get you to move it or cancel completely.

He’d never been above a little bribery to get his way, he knew what you liked.

You going on dates wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing them paraded in front of him was a different story. And he was getting really tired of watching you from across the bar while feeling like you were out of reach.

The more of them you went on, and the more he heard Natasha crowing about having the perfect man for you the more agitated he felt. The worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach got.

The evening of date for Payback’s pick, they’d all seen you walk in through the doors of the Hard Deck wearing that shade of red lipstick. You’d wore it so well. His friends had immediately started speculating about what it meant. Phoenix had called them all idiots, and while he couldn’t claim to know anything about make-up and those things, he did know you didn’t just wear that color for no reason.

He had vague memories of his mom putting the color on when they’d go greet his dad, at least he like to think those were his memories. Or maybe they were just something he’d created in his head from all the time he had spent looking at old photos of his mom and dad together, her smile always outlined in the color. His favorite was the one where his dad’s cheeks were covered in bright red lipstick kisses as he smiled indulgently down at his mom while a young Bradley was propped on her hip clutching his prized F-14 Tomcat. He had that one framed on the end table next to his couch.

And seeing that color on you for a date with this random guy had rattled him.

He’d felt so terrible later that evening when he took those feelings out on you. Hating himself as he lashed out at you. Hating himself as he saw your face fall and the hurt in your eyes. Hating himself for being the person who made you feel bad.

And the crux of it all was that you weren’t wrong, he had been deliberately distant by being slow to reply and ignoring texts from you. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped by creating some space that it would help him to try and get his head back on straight.

He’d let you assume that he was tired from the new training program they were being put through. What he didn’t tell you was that he was already outperforming everyone on the team, and that he hadn’t had to do any extra push-ups in a week and a half.

He was tired because he hadn’t been sleeping, and he couldn’t sleep because every time he tried to close his eyes all he could see was you on these dates. Replaying them in his mind’s eye wondering what the outcome would have been had they not gone so terribly wrong each time.

The what-ifs swarming around his brain day and night like agitated hornets.

While he had been quick to apologize for being a dick, the sharp pain that settled behind his sternum wouldn’t subside no matter how much he had tried to rub it away.

He didn’t know what was more unbearable, the idea of losing you to a chance encounter of circumstance. Some meet cute courtesy of the universe that he couldn’t see coming until it was too late, when it’s already too far out of his hands and out of his control. To see you grinning that smile so bright, the one so wide it made your dimples appear, as you introduced that guy to him.

Or sitting here night after night analyzing every little thing as you date the people some of his closest friends had picked out for you. Watching and hoping that these dates would just be funny stories you told on drunken nights out rather than the story told at your wedding about the night that everything changed when you met your person. Of having to be happy for you even as you pull away from him.

His ears were ringing and he’d felt his stomach drop.

He could see it now, a day when your life ran parallel to his rather than entwined as he was used to. Of you with a partner. With children. Of him as ‘Uncle’ Rooster, demoted to the rank of ‘longtime friend of the family’ rather than a core member of it.

The thought of it making him feel sick.

All evening he had been moving around like a ghost completely lost to the thoughts in his head, but now it felt like he’d been shocked by a live wire. He’d pretty much jumped out of the chair he had just settled in, almost knocking the beers in front of him off the table completely.

“I want in, I’ll do it,” he’d blurted out, interrupting the conversations that had continued on around him while he had been spiraling. “This whole thing has been a complete shit show. I can’t watch this anymore. I know a guy, I’ll set it up. I’m in.”

His hands were sweating as he hoped no one would call his bluff. He’d made it a point to actively avoid looking at you. You had such an uncanny way of reading him.

“I don’t know, Bradshaw. You’re a little late to the game, aren’t you? I’ve been saving the best for last, and I’m ready to collect my winnings.” He’d expected some shit from Hangman, but he never would have guessed it’d come from Phoenix.

Feeling his anger flare up, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a $100 bill from his worn leather wallet, double the original entry fee. He slapped it down on the table, leaving no room for any further discussion, “I’m the one setting her up for the next date.”

He’d caught a look between Hangman and Phoenix, but he couldn’t be bothered to read into it as he tried to keep his temper in check.

He wouldn’t lose you. Not to someone who didn’t deserve you, especially when he already knew the person who could make you happy.

“Alrighty,” Jake had drawled out, as he pocked the bill. “Looks like we have another player. I look forward to taking your money.”

He’d extended his hand out and they’d all shook on it, reaching Phoenix last her grip firm and her smile sharp. And that was that.

Now he was here at the new popular restaurant he’d heard you talking about a few weeks ago, his feet cemented to the tiles beneath him just gazing at you.

He could tell from where he was standing behind you that you were nervous by the way you were opening and closing apps without truly looking at anything. He knew it was a habit of yours when you were feeling anxious, something for your hands to do as you tried to distract yourself.

He had sweet talked the hostess over the phone into reserving the best spot on the outdoor terrace, and you looked so beautiful sitting there wearing his new favorite color. Your hair is held back by a delicate golden clip on one side leaving the line of your neck exposed, the sea breeze picking up a few wisps. It makes his teeth ache with want.

He knew you were gorgeous, he’d stared down enough men at the Hard Deck to know that others thought so too. However, he’d never let himself sit with those thoughts for too long, not trusting himself to keep his mind from wandering.

You were his best friend.

And best friends don’t think about how the other would look so perfect in their bed, that pretty green dress forgotten on the floor.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look under his arm.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look with his ring on your finger.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you are for him.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect he is for you.

Him.

It was a good thing he didn’t want to just be your best friend anymore.

He’d already done too much thinking, done too much waiting. He wasn’t going to miss his moment.

Taking one more deep breath, he made his way to you.

“Rooster? What are you doing here?” He was the last person you’d expected to see when you turned your head to see who had been trying to get your attention, “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Did he get emergency orders? Did your date get in an accident?

Your anxiousness was quickly morphing into panic, you’re already half way out of your seat when he puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb stroking the skin there reassuringly.

He is standing there looking completely at ease, as if he belonged there, “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl.”

And there it was again, you hadn’t been sure if your ears were playing tricks on you the first time he’d said it. That simple term of endearment silencing the alarm bells that were going off in your head, the edges of the lush restaurant softening around everything except him.

“Your mom always called me that,” you say softly.

You cherished all the memories you had with Carole, the woman who had been such a significant figure in your life for so long. You knew your mom still sent Rooster a cake every year to celebrate her birthday from whatever bakery was closest to wherever he was stationed.

“I know, I remember,” his voice so warm and deep, “She loved you.”

He says it so simply, so sincerely. As if his presence here hasn’t just completely untethered you and sent you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.

The writhing snake that had made a home all day in the pit of your stomach finally disappeared, only to be replaced with the fluttering of wings that you were desperately trying to ignore.

You’d been so shocked when Rooster had exclaimed that he was going to set you up with someone, your mind had been whirling so much at the time you could barely focus on anything that had been said in the aftermath of his announcement. Maybe you had missed some caveat he’d come up with for his participation in the bet? That could make sense, considering how adamant he had always been in the past about never getting involved in your love life.

He was standing there looking so good in his best short-sleeved button up shirt, the one that was scattered with vibrant palm leaves that fit snugly against his body. And wearing the white slacks that usually had you looking anywhere else in the room to avoid acknowledging the way they clung to your best friend’s thighs and ass. If only he knew how weak they made you.

There just has to be a logical reason for why he’s here, but the soft smile on his face was rendering your brain uncooperative.

You were getting tired of feeling like you were missing something that should be so obvious, “My date is supposed to be here soon, are you going to hover in the back like you have been at the Hard Deck? Or are you just planning on pulling up a chair and third wheeling up close and personal?”

“Why would I need an extra chair,” he asks as he pulls it out and eases his large frame down onto the wicker seat, “When mine’s already free?”

You move to open your mouth when the waitress arrives, asking if you had your drink orders selected.

“I’ll do the Bourbon Sidecar. You feelin’ like a gin, sweet girl?” You just nodded at him mutely, still desperately trying to catch up. “And the Clover Club for her, please.”

It’s what you were planning on ordering to calm your first date jitters before had Rooster arrived and sent you into a complete tailspin. He hadn’t even looked at the thick textured cardstock of the drink menus that were strategically placed just to the right of the golden soup spoons on the artfully laid out table.

The butterflies were threatening to break free from the tightly locked cage you had attempted to shove them in.

The waitress took down the drinks, and you watched her as she crossed the patio pausing to tap away on the screen of their POS, trying to give yourself a few more moments to collect your thoughts.

“Bradley. I don’t understand, what’s going on?” He’s sitting there looking so secure, so steadfast, so sure.

His cheek ticks up, “I like it when you call me Bradley. Why did you stop calling me that when you moved out here?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Why did you stop calling me Bradley when you moved out here?” he asks again, leaning in. How does he expect you to answer a question, when your mind is going 1,190 miles an hour?

“I don’t know,” you start with a halfhearted shrug. “You’ve made a name for yourself in the Navy, you are ‘Rooster’ to everyone here.” You open your mouth to say more, before closing it quickly.

“There’s more going on in that head,” you feel his foot reach out tapping against yours under the table, before leaving it there a steady presence. “Tell me.”

You know you can tell him anything, but this feels different.

The intensity of his stare has you fighting the flush you feel spreading across your cheeks.

It wasn’t something that you’d ever given much thought to before, but you know if you answer truthfully now that he’s asked you it’s going to leave you feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been with him.

You sit up more fully in your chair deciding to be brave, “I mean, we haven’t really truly been in the same place since we were teens, and things are so different now. It was easier to start calling you ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ like everyone else, because it didn’t make me feel like I was piece from a different puzzle trying to force myself into a new picture. I wanted to fit into the life that you’ve built here, to feel like I still have a place with you as you are now.”

You’re actively fighting to keep your eyes on his. It would be so easy to look away or to laugh off your confession, but for whatever reason, you don’t want to take the easy out.

“I never knew you felt like that, but I wish I had,” the look in his eyes is softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him before. “I like being Bradley to you, I want to be Bradley to you. You aren’t just a piece to me, you’re the whole picture. You’ve always had a place here, exactly as you are you are now.”

It’s never been like this between the two of you. It feels like you both are saying too much and not enough all at the same time. As much as you find yourself wanting to sink into these intoxicating yet unfamiliar feelings, you know you’re still holding yourself back.

God, he is so handsome. You had been right, the sunset that was just starting was stunning, but the way golden beams were hitting the lightened strands of his curls was spectacular.

You’re almost too afraid to ask, but it’s unbearable not knowing, “Why are you here right now, Bradley?”

Of course, the waitress chooses that moment to return with the drinks.

She sets them down in front of you, the skewered raspberries sitting daintily on the side of your glass are suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. You vaguely hear him saying you both need more time and that he’ll flag her down when you’re ready to order.

He waits for her to leave to attend to her other tables before turning his heady gaze on you once again.

“I thought I’ve been making my intentions pretty clear here, sweet girl.”

He takes a sip of his Sidecar before continuing, the slight bounce of his leg the only thing giving him away that he might not be as self-assured as you’d originally thought, “I’m here for our date.”

There’s no hope of containing the butterflies now. You’re a lost cause.

“Bradley.” You can only imagine the emotions he is reading on your face. It would absolutely break your heart if this was some kind of bad joke.

“He’ll never love you like I can.”

“What?” you ask sounding every bit as dazed as you feel.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says shaking his head slightly, huffing out a little laugh at himself, “I got ahead of myself.”

You watch as he resituates himself in the chair, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks before restarting.

“Watching you on those dates has been hell, I don’t want to be jealous of some guy you gave a second glance. I don’t want hold back, not when we can be so much more,” he reaches across the table, taking your hand between his two large ones, “I thought having you as a friend was enough for me, but how am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that I could be the one who makes you happy and then do nothing about it? That I’m the only one who can love you the way you deserve to be loved?”

You’ve always known he’s cared for you, that was unquestionable, but to be loved by Bradley Bradshaw? It was something you’d never let yourself imagine, let alone dared to hope to for. It had been kinder to spare yourself from the heartache that came with hope. But now? With him sitting right here in front of you saying you could have him like this?

Was this how he felt flying in his F-18 every day?

He gets up and rounds the table coming to your side, hooking an ankle around the tapered leg of your chair pulling you out a bit. You’re suddenly very thankful for the probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative for a first date dress you purchased when you see the way his rich brown eyes turn molten as he gets a glimpse of your exposed thigh.

He settles into a crouch before you, his warm hands seeking out both of yours, “You don’t need Phoenix or anyone else to set you up, because he’ll never love you like I can. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me be it for you, sweet girl.”

The man in front of you is everything you could have ever possibly wanted for yourself. And to be the one who could get to keep him forever? There’s no doubt in your mind, it’s worth everything.

You’re sure you will have to have a more serious conversation about what this means for the two of you, but that can wait for another time when he’s not in front of you with his eyes so earnest. So hopeful. To another time when he’s not wearing his heart on his sleeve as he patiently waits for any kind of response from you.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now.

So easy to learn what that mustache would feel like against your skin.

To learn how his lips and tongue would feel against your own.

To learn how his mouth would move with yours.

But what’s a couple more hours when you’ve had years to build up to it.

“Well then, Lieutenant. I guess you better show me how it’s done,” you bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking along his cheekbone. “But I’m warning you now, I fully intended to give you as good as I get.”

Being on the receiving end of a Rooster smile was something special, but it had nothing on the beaming grin that Bradley Bradshaw is giving you now.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” he says as he lands a lingering kiss on your cheek before standing and pushing your chair back in for you. “You’ve always known how to keep me on my toes.”

He returns back to his surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker chair, stretching his leg to rest it against yours. When the waitress comes back you both end up picking your meals at random, having been too absorbed with each other to actually bother reading the menu.

You’d barely eaten all day because of the knots in your stomach, and now you were starving. Thankfully, Bradley at least had the commonsense to ask the waitress to pick her favorite dish as a third entrée “for the table”.

It feels the same in many ways, he knows what to say to make you laugh and what to bring up to get you fired up. And you know what questions to ask to keep him talking and how to push his buttons just right.

But it’s also different when he doesn’t bother to hide his knowing smirk every time he catches you looking at his lips. And it’s even better when you don’t bother trying to hide yours when you catch him doing the same.

Afterwards, he takes your hand in his as you slowly make your way to the parking lot, his fingers lacing between your own. He surprises you when he leans against the Bronco, murmuring something about not wanting to let your pretty dress get dirty. His long legs extended wide as an invitation for you to come stand between them, his strong hands stroking the silky material of your dress on your hips as you step closer.

You’ve been ignoring the pull low in your stomach all evening, the tension between you two the most luscious feeling you’ve ever experienced. The combination of his heat, his woodsy smell, the headiness of his gaze on you almost too overwhelming.

Almost.

Your hands settle on his broad chest, playing with the button of his shirt now a bit nervous. Your faces closer than you’ve ever allowed them to be before. If what you’re hearing is the sound of the waves or the roaring of the blood in your ears, you couldn’t say.

You know he is waiting for you to make the first move. You see the moment when he’s about to say something, knowing him the words would be wonderfully reassuring and perfectly Bradley.

Why would you want to talk when his mouth was already waiting like a question. Why would you want to talk when you could learn what it’s like kiss him instead?

So you do.

When your lips meet his for the first time it feels like the sweetest kind of devotion.

bradleybradleybradley

His mustache scratching satisfyingly at the skin of your upper lip. His mouth tasting like the Sidecars he sipped on throughout the night and something that was just fundamentally Bradley.

Your hand moves on its own to stroke the side of his neck, your fingers seeking out the line of the longest scar that adorns his skin there from that night all those years ago.

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as he licks his lips before bringing his face down to yours again. Your other hand tightly clutching his shirt in anticipation.

He’s always been so in tune with you, so when he tilts your head just right before leaning into the kiss it feels like a homecoming.

thisthisthis

One of Bradley’s hands makes its way up your back, pressing you closer to him as the other bands more securely around your waist. And when his tongue skims your lower lip, you sigh into his waiting mouth thankful for his strong grasp on you.

Nothing your mind could have imagined would have ever come close to the perfection that is Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth moving against yours. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.

When he pulls away, you’re both over fighting back the smiles that feel like have been permanently fixed on your faces all evening.

“I’m don’t want to call it a night yet,” he tells you, as he brushes the hair back from your face. His smile turning playful, “What do you say, kid? Wanna go get some milkshakes?”

“Depends,” you reply cheekily, “Can I drink it in the Bronco?”

Wrapping both arms around his neck you draw him back in towards you again.

“Anything you want, sweet girl,” he promises against your lips.

The next night at the Hard Deck, you entered the bar with Bradley’s arm draped your shoulders.

His team whooping loudly when you pull him in for a kiss as he handed you a Blue Moon. They’d declared the drinks were on Bradley that night as they’d swarmed you both in celebration. Maverick pulls you aside to give you a warm hug, whispering “I knew you’d get here” in your ear before releasing you.

Now that you had let yourselves cross that line from friends to more, the pair of you are entirely too aware of the other. Never content to be too far away from the other. Your eyes like magnets, each seeking out the other to find them already looking back.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he has his hands on your waist. Nothing neighborly in the way his hands rub your shoulders. Nothing platonic in the way he rests one hand on the back of your neck, his thumb making teasing circles.

And there’s nothing friendly about the way you run your hands through his curls when he’s at the piano. Nothing neighborly in the way you slide your hand into his back pocket. Nothing platonic in the way you rest your hand on his chest, your finger tracing the line of his collarbone.

It has always been so easy with him, even as you explore in this new area of your relationship.

You’d been orbiting around each other all night, when Jake yelled out to heckle you both about indecent exposure, threatening to call his cop friend if Bradley didn’t “get his ass over to the pool table in the next thirty seconds.”

He’d peppered your face with kisses before you’d shooed him away, laughing when you realized he had swiped your beer and had taken it with him.

“So you and Bradshaw,” Natasha states as she settles down next to you.

That makes you smile.

“Yeah, me and Bradley.”

How could you have possibly thought you’d want anyone else other than him? You were a goner from the moment you’d turned and saw him standing there at the restaurant. Your golden boy.

You turn towards her, putting a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a fair shot at the bet. I really do appreciate the effort you all went through. I mean, Bradley would have had it in the bag anyways. But still–”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves a hand, cutting you off, “We had a team meeting and changed the rules of the bet anyways. I still won, so it’s all good.” Her smile was nothing less than mischievous.

“Wait, what?”

“We could all see from Rooster’s reaction during that disaster of a first date with all the dogs that he was completely hung up on you. We didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out, so we decided to adjust the terms a bit to help him out,” she laughs at your clearly baffled expression. “We reached out to the cringiest people we knew and set you up with them instead. And then took bets on how long it would take Rooster to get his head out of his ass and go get his girl.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” The revelation has you bursting out in laughter.

“Yep, well except for Bob. His date was a genuine accident, bless him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bother reaching out to anyone. I was betting on Rooster getting it together before I needed to step in,” she explains while wearing the most self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Of course Natasha Trace had bet on him. On you.

You couldn’t wait to tell Bradley how you had both been so absolutely played by his team.

You loved these people. You loved your life here in San Diego.

“I’d apologize for putting you through all that, but it looks like it worked out well in the end,” she says knowingly nodding her head towards him.

You’re fully watching him now as he bends over the pool table looking amused at something that Hangman says.

Bradley looks up catching your eye and shoots a wink in your direction, a grin taking over his whole face. You already know you’re wearing a matching one.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Thank you so much for all the love on this one! I’ve loved sharing this journey with you all! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone!

If you want to know what happens next for these two you can check out my masterlist!

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) as always for being the ultimate hype girl!

Taglist:

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lawrenceleemagnuson · 9 months

Text

Henri Martin (France 1860-1943) La Pergola nord-ouest au Parc de Marquayrol (c. 1925) oil on canvas 76.4 x 92.3 cm

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hellishjoel · 11 months

Text

blue collar man

4.1k / joel miller x f!reader

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Summary: Your boyfriend Joel is up to his ears busy with his contracting business. Tired and sore, he comes home to learn you’ve made the rest of the night all about him.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: Fluff, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, fluffy fluff fluff because blue collar man Joel Miller deserves it! He’s running a biz-ness!

A/N: based on this lovely request! I hope I could bring your request to life, I breezed through it so fast because I love him, he’s baby.

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him. “Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

Joel had found a lot of success with Miller Contracting over the summer months. Business was booming and his early mornings until late nights were dedicated to working on multiple projects to get things done on time for his clients. Joel worked on referrals mostly, so when he finished a client’s remodeled hill country home in late winter, the client had raved over Joel’s professionalism and hard work to their friends and now he had a list of upcoming projects.

Truthfully, you didn’t know much about contractors until you started dating Joel. You quickly began to understand the vastness of his duties. One day he could be working on home renovation projects where he was doing demolition like removing the walls or floors, electrical and plumbing work, flooring installation, even down to the last coat of paint.

Other opportunities were commercial like on a small office building downtown where he did site preparation, set the foundation, worked on the beams and columns, all the way up to finishing the roof. Whatever he couldn’t do himself that was a bit more specialized, he hired subcontractors to work on like heating, ventilation, and air conditioning.

What he hated the most was landscaping projects. He’d have to do the design layout of a large backyard garden and plant trees and flowers or work on seeding grass if it was a particularly hot Texas summer. Then he would add irrigation systems like sprinklers, pathways for people to walk on, pergolas for outdoor hosting, finishing it off with pretty and unique outdoor light fixtures. God forbid the client wanted a pond.

“Do you know how annoying koi fish are? They just… stare at ya while you’re tryin’ to work.”

You had grown to love the handy man that Joel was. Before you were moved in to his place, your shitty little apartment needed so much love that your asshole landlord never took the time to come and fix. But Joel would. That was his form of romance. He didn’t bring you flowers or chocolates on the first dates. Joel was replacing your leaky shower head and tightening your jiggly door knobs. He also managed to match the paint color on your walls so he could cover up the scrapes he made after he railed you into your mattress so hard that the frame made a few chips.

You were so happy to see his business getting the high recognition it deserved, however, Joel was taking quite the beating from it. You could tell by the way he slinked back into the house at the end of the night, his frame hunched over and walking with a slight limp.

He was sore, muscles aching and knees screaming at him. His joints were swollen by the end of the day and his sweaty, sticky skin ached for a refreshing shower.

The hardest part was always trying to shut off his mind when he got home. He was already thinking about the next day. What didn’t get done on time, what shipments of supplies were expected, how the delays would set the project back. He needed a break.

“Can’t take time off right now, baby. I’ve got deadlines to meet.”

There was this one specific project that was giving him hell. He called it the Astor because it was on Astor street. Every night this week he had come home beyond late because of the problems with the Astor. First it was that the project was exceeding the client’s budget, so they were giving him grief about that. Then it was labor shortage stuff, not being able to get people out there which then in turn caused timeline delays. With the client out of the country most of the time, Joel was receiving little to no communication from the owner. He was fighting permit and regulatory issues with the city, every day it was something new that caused a headache behind his eyes.

His dedication was admirable, but you knew that him being so physically and mentally clouded wasn’t good for him or for Miller Contracting.

You didn’t know shit about contracting, but you did know Joel.

You had texted him earlier in the day to drop whatever he was working on no later than 5 o’clock in the evening. You never did that, never told him to leave work early. But the last thing he wanted was for him to come home and have you upset with him. That was worse than any project issue.

Tonight would be about Joel. Anything you could do to make the stress melt away, you would try.

Joel pushed open the front door once home, a heavy sigh leaving him as he closed the door back in place and set his lunch box and keys down on the entry table.

“Joel?” Your voice echoed from the kitchen.

“Hi, baby.” His voice was low from the lack of energy.

Joel slowly moved down on one knee, a heavy breath exiting through clench teeth as his kneecaps throbbed while he untied one boot, then the other. They were covered in dust even down to the creases, steel toe covers making his feet sore.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked as you grabbed a dish towel to wipe your hands with before tossing it on the counter, greeting him halfway as he made his way through the living room.

You were up on your tippy toes for a kiss, not wanting him to have to bend over and exert himself. He hated when you treated him like an old man, but with this job, you always teased him that it was coming sooner rather than later.

He kept his hands to himself, knowing they were a bit greasy and sweaty. His overgrown beard hairs tickled your face as you peppered him with a few extra kisses, one of his eyebrows playfully raising.

“Was fine. Did you see what I texted you?” He asked as he looked down at you, watching as your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, helping lift it off his head.

“Mhm. The HVAC guys didn’t show up until noon even though you scheduled them for nine in the morning. Did you see I texted you back? Five hours ago.” Your teasing tone made him crack a smile.

Joel was bad at texting. Typical guy thing, typical older guy thing. He said he wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for work and if Sarah didn’t insist on how texting was the new way of communication. Even though you texted him ten minutes after his initial one, his phone was already back in his pocket and he had long forgotten about your conversation as he returned to his work day.

His response came out in a chortle, a heavy breath through his nose since he was too tired to chuckle.

“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to complain, I guess.” He said as he watched you fiddle with his Miller Contracting shirt that had a worn in hole by the neckline. He went to reach for it, wanting to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, but you were quick to hold it to your chest.

“I’ve got it.” You said as you went to give him a soft kiss to the open plane of his chest, smiling at the salt and pepper chest hair he was sporting. It looked so good on him. You walked off to the bedroom and did it yourself, grabbing him a fresh shirt for the rest of the evening, a pair of boxers, and his worn dark plaid pajama pants he liked.

Joel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. A heavenly smell was drawing him into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him. You had green beans in a frying pan and a gravy softly bubbling in a sauce pan. Then in a skillet was the most perfect looking chicken fried steak, the coating coming to the perfect crisp. He pulled the oven handle open just an inch to see golden biscuits rising.

“I put clean clothes on the counter in the bathroom, go shower, handsome.” You said before returning to the kitchen, frowning as he found his dinner before you had a chance to plate it.

“Joel.” You playfully scolded, pinching at his hip. “You’re ruining your own surprise.” You teased as you shooed him out of the kitchen, hearing an audible grumble in his stomach. It made you sport a proud grin. It was his favorite meal, said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking growing up with Tommy.

“I’m making mashed potatoes, too.” You said as you drained the water the potatoes were soaking in, putting them in a new bowl and getting out some milk and butter.

“You’re makin’ me hungry.” He hummed with a small, tired smile as his hands came up loosely on your hips.

His hands on you instantly made you grin, gently shaking your head at him as his head came to rest by your own.

“You’re distractin’ me.” His low voice carrying the weight of his day.

“No, you’re distracting me.” You made clear as your elbow playfully dug into the core of his stomach.

“Go shower, please. You smell like drywall dust… and paint.”

He rolled his eyes with his smile still lingering.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” He said as his lips dropped down to place a sweet kiss of sincerity at the base of your neck, a shiver rolling up you as you let out a huff and returned your focus to your five-star meal.

You heard the water hit against the shower wall and his small radio crackled to life, finalizing the last touches to Joel’s favorite dinner.

Joel came back to the living room in the clothes you had set out for him, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. God, he looked so good.

“Here.” You handed him his plate, seeing his lips part in excitement. His stomach let out an audible rumble. He probably didn’t have a spare minute to eat his lunch today, poor thing.

The two of you settled on the couch, Joel expecting you to turn on one of your shows since a new episode came out today.

“Do you uhm.. Maybe wanna watch one of those movies where they’re flying the jet planes? You said you wanted to show me it a while ago.” You offered, glancing over to see him already inhaling his food with the fork scraping across the plate to not let a single bit of gravy escape him. But your offer made him pause.

“You wanna watch Top Gun? You hate Tom Cruise.”

“Well, yeah, he seems kind of like a douchebag, but it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed on you as he thought about your offer but ultimately shook his head, shrugged, and kept eating.

“‘t’s fine, you can put somethin’ on.” He said as he stabbed a green bean, smeared some mashed potatoes on it before putting it past his lips.

You took a deep breath and issued him the remote control.

“You pick something tonight, honey. It’s your night.”

That caught Joel’s attention. His head whipped a little to fast towards you, his thick eyebrows furling at the concept.

“‘t’s not my night. It’s a Thursday.”

The look you gave him set him straight.

“Okay, okay.. It’s my night.” He declared in playful defense, taking in a deep breath through his nose and opted for some old Western show he liked. You didn’t care much for it, but Joel did.

Once you two finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table and discarded, your head was on his shoudler and your hand ran slow, soothing circles over his chest. You could feel him breathing deeply, relaxing with you.

You asked him questions about the main characters, showing genuine interest. Even going as far as to add a dramatic gasp when a shot was fired from a cowboy’s revolver which made him let out a hearty laugh.

“You’re so full of it.”

He was talking with a huge grin, you could hear it in how he spoke, and it warmed your heart.

Towards the end of your night, your hands were in yellow dish gloves as you washed your plates from dinner, sliding the clean ones between the dividers of your drying rack.

Joel slipped his strong arms low around your waist, his burly shoulders pressing into your own as you nearly toppled over with his presence

“Thanks for dinner tonight. Hit the spot.” He said as he kissed your cheek then on a spot where your jawline met your neck, right by your ear. His beard hairs tickled. You could feel that they were freshly trimmed now, he probably felt a lot better.

“Night’s not over yet.” You hummed, a playful smile on your lips that he was quick to take notice of.

“Oh?” His voice dropped an octave, rolling your eyes a bit as you dug your elbow into his stomach for the second time tonight to put some space between you.

“Okay, cowboy. Relax. How about you go to the bedroom and take your shirt off. I’ll be there in a sec.” Your choice of words were still leading him in a different direction, you almost felt bad. But it was funny watching him get worked up.

After finishing the dishes and blowing out the eucalyptus scented candles, you peaked into your bedroom. Joel was still cautiously removing his shirt, moving slow as to not disturb his aching muscles. You hated seeing him come home every night like this, as if his body had just been in a fight and taken a brutal beating.

Joel undid the clasp of his watch, the band and watch face dirty and making digging a bruise into his wrist, but it told the time. He felt better after his shower, having made it a steamy one to relax the stinging in his upper neck and shoulders as well as his lower back.

His belly was good and full, happy to have something homemade rather than a quick pizza in the oven or just a cold bottle of beer before bed.

You were taking care of him tonight. Not that you didn’t every other night. He was actually giving you the time to take proper care of him. It felt off at first, taking on all the attention he usually reserved for you after long days. But maybe it’s what he needed.

His head turned as he felt a warm pair of arms circle just above his plaid pajama pants, your soft fingers undoing the knot he had tied in the front of them.

“I would’a taken my pants off for ya if you’d just ask.” His tone taunting, stepping out of the soft material before spinning in your arms and attempting to scoop you into him.

“Lay back, goofball.” You said with that gleaming smile of yours. Made his stomach twist. Whatever you had planned, you obviously wanted the lead on.

He did as instructed, happily falling into the comfort of the mattress with ease.

“Close your eyes, please.” Your voice was sweet like honey. He’d follow it into the shadows, into hell, more likely into heaven since it’s where Joel thought you belonged.

He could already fall asleep, though it was no later than eight. He felt the bed dip first at his legs, your body shifting up to sit by his hip. His hand naturally felt out for you, his warm palm holding you at the curve of your lower back.

When Joel was given the okay to open his eyes again, he was surprised to see a few candles lit around the room, the golden glow adding a bit of ambiance.

He watched as you squirted a few pumps of a lotion in your hands, circling it up in your palms to make it a little warm before you started to lather it into his calves.

The sensation made his breath hitch. You were giving him a massage? He sat up on his elbows and watched the white-ish cream get all wrapped up in his dark leg hair.

“Darlin’-”

“Shh.”

He tightened his lips, feeling a bit futile all of a sudden. There was a pause before he spoke again.

“Don’t have to do this for me.” He insisted, his eyes on yours, but you were focused on adding subtle pressure to his calf muscles.

“Know I don’t have to. I want to. Lay back down.”

You wanted to. You wanted to take time out of your evening and bathe him in attention. You had cooked one of his favorite meals, and to perfection he might add. You also let him watch a show he wanted to watch, something he knew you didn’t have a taste for. But you were intrigued anyway, to show you cared.

He was so comfortable and at ease, the problems of today didn’t seem to matter much anymore when you were here to greet him so lovingly.

Your fingers kneaded gently into his skin, Joel’s eyes dipping closed as he began to sink deeper into the mattress. Of course he couldn’t just do nothing. He had his warm palm splayed on your back where the shirt you were wearing was riding up a little bit. You smiled at the gesture. No matter how much effort you tried to dedicate to Joel, he was still showing his care even when he was dead exhausted.

You worked the lotion up into his thighs, the slight tug on his hairs making his face crinkle a little. You dared not to get too high, again, not to give him the wrong idea of where the massage was heading. It was okay to be just attentive to his needs for tonight. You could relax him in other more sensual ways another time. He needed something a little deeper.

You leaned down and peppered sweet kisses up his torso and over those salt and pepper chest hairs you admire so much, stopping just at his lips with a small smile.

“So handsome.” You praised in a whisper, kissing him with a grin on your lips.

He hummed softly and moved his hand to gently cup the back of your head, keeping your kind presence in his proximity just a moment longer.

“I’m getting too old for you.” He whispered back in a teasing tone, making you bubble up a laugh in your shared space.

“You’ve always been too old for me.” Your thumb gently glided over his chin and admired a small white patch just at the base where his neck sloped down. “But I’ve never minded. Because you’re a good man. A hard working, blue collar man. It’s very sexy.” You teased with a smile, happy to see one blossom on his lips as well.

“Thanks for treatin’ me so good tonight. This week’s been…” he let the sentence die before shaking his head.

“I know, Joel.” You said with a small nod before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips again before sitting up straight.

“Wanna roll over and I’ll do your shoulders?”

He let out a breathless laugh as he looked up at you. “Please.” Like you had to ask.

He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but boy, maybe he should start asking for it.

Joel moved to lay on his belly, letting out a short groan in the process that made your chest flutter.

You let out a short huff before you straddled his back, topping yourself right on his butt after getting a short groan from Joel for being on his tailbone.

More lotion was squirted into your hands before you started to apply it across the landscape of his back.

“We should do a skincare night.” You said, feeling his body shudder at the cold lotion.

“Uh what?” Joel’s voice muffled against the comforter, his head to one side so he could see you just out of his peripheral.

“You know what skincare is, you see me do it every night.”

“I don’t know what the he-ll you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He said, his words stuttering as you pushed particularly harder in his lower back. Jeez, it was knot after knot under your fingertips.

“Ugh, Joel!” You whined as your motions paused.

Joel had a habit of doing this. Declaring he had no idea what it was that you were talking about, making you tirelessly explain for several minutes, before he goes ‘Oh, why didn’t you just say that? I know what that is.” It made you roll your eyes each and every time.

“You’re handsome, but you don’t listen.” You hummed out before cupping your hands at his shoulders and doing circles with good pressure, your upper body weight being put into his stern muscles.

“All I heard you say is that I’m handsome.” He moaned into the sheets, a blush creeping on your cheeks at his comment, but also his heavenly moan.

“It’s.. where you apply skincare to your face. You know, using a cleanser, applying an exfoliator, moisturizer..”

This was when Joel started muffling random nonsense into the sheets and you playfully pushed into his crying shoulders harder until he let out another long groan of discomfort.

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re talkin’ about. Skincare. I don’t need it.”

You tutted, shaking your head as you held in a laugh.

“Everyone needs it. Every. One.” You said as you leaned down and kissed the back of his head where his curls were starting to form.

“Especially you, Joel! Your pores are so big, you’ve got dust and dirt getting all in there. And it’s been so hot outside, your skin’s drying up. Gotta take care of your skin baby.”

“Why? So I’ll look young agian?” He teased as he reached a hand back and squeezed your hip as well as he could from his position.

“Because it’s good for you. Makes me feel good after a really long day.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a throat hum leaving his lips. “Thought I made you feel good after a really long day.”

A huff left your lips as you were back to doing circles into his shoulder with your thumbs. “Shut up.”

The last of the lotion had sunk into his skin, the massage hopefully healing more than just his dry skin.

Night’s like this with Joel were rare, but exceptionally special. He had energy to talk to you about everything under the sun, something you didn’t expect to transpire with your age difference at first. You discussed your mutual plans for the weekend, a barbeque at Tommy’s house. Joel was insisting on you wearing your new bikini, green to match his beautiful eyes. He could be such a horn dog.

He wanted to stay up as long as he could, but the long day he endured couldn’t help but put weight on his eyelids. His words turned to mumbles, his arms snaking around your waist in his silent gesture to fall asleep with you.

You shook your head with a small, tired smile, your hands planting themselves on his forearms to put a stop to his motions.

“Turn around.” You whispered, the notion making his tired eyes pop open with a “huh?” leaving his parted lips.

“You heard me, old man. Turn around.” You said as your hand roamed over his warm hip.

Joel assumed you didn’t want to cuddle tonight, maybe he was too warm for your taste despite the fan running above the both of you.

Joel’s chest tightened as he felt your warm body return right behind him, a bashful grin on his face.

“Are you tryna big spoon me?” His southern accent was dripping heavier than usual with the tiredness stringed in it.

The question erupted a giggle from you, Joel feeling you kiss over his taut shoulder blade.

“I don’t know how well I can big spoon you.. You’re so long.” Your arm tightened around Joel’s waist anway, his big hand finding yours as your fingers interlocked. He felt grateful in this moment, albeit a bit shy about the position. He was used to being the big spoon, it was different for him to be on the receiving end. But it was warm and settling, he couldn’t deny that.

“So I’m uh.. I’m like the ladle to your big spoon?” Joel asked. He could feel your grin on his back, your legs tangling with his own.

“Yes… you’re the ladle, but even the ladle needs a big spoon.” Joel’s blinks slowed until his eyes were closed, heavy with sleep.

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him.

“Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #fluff fic #joel miller one shot fluff

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boujiestpoet · 1 month

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Amore e Gelato LH44 (sneak peak)

Summary: Two young, old lovers, now adults, meet in the narrow streets of Florence, Tuscany.

Pairing: (Lewis Hamilton x black!oc)

Warning: Possible cringe from authors writing

Faceclaim: Deborah Ayorinde

THIS IS A REMINDER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION I DON'T KNOW NONE OF THIS PEOPLE, AND THIS WORK DO NOT REPRESENT WHO THEY ARE IN REAL LIFE

Amidst the ethereal charm of Florence, Italy, where art and music intertwined, a serendipitous encounter unfolded. Lewis Hamilton, the renowned Formula One legend, was invited to the prestigious Grand Teatro della Pergola

When a familiar melody caught his ear, his heart skipped a beat.

Emerging from the stage was a figure whose voice had once captivated his soul: Sharon Madden, the opera singer who had been his lover years ago.

Well is time to use my Italian citizenship for good

#black!reader #f1 smau #f1 x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #black!oc #f1 x reader

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stiles-o-dylan24 · 27 days

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It's Always Been You Bonus Scene 1 - Wolfsbane Hallucination

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24 Pairing: Stiles x Addy McCall Word Count: 3.1k Requested: Can you maybe write something about Addy telling Stiles what she saw during the hallucinations in season 2 at Lydia's party and having a Staddy fluffy moment? I don't remember but I think after that moment it never brought up again and kinda always wanted to see how Stiles would react, if it's okay for you of course! And obv if you want to write it take your time, don't rush it! 💕 A/N: Here you go sweets, it's been forever and a day but hopefully you're still around and you enjoy this! I'm putting this as taking place at the end of season 4 so you have an idea of the timeline of everything! Any other deleted/bonus scenes you guys want please don't hesitate to send them in bc I'm fully on my IABY bullshit while I edit the whole series to be ready for binding. Love you all!🩵 IABY PLAYLIST || <<PREV || MASTERLIST || NEXT>> ||

Another day another Lydia birthday party is in full swing– which is already a better turnout than the impromptu lake house party a couple of months ago.

That night we found the deadpool list and now we’re back from Mexico and Lydia promised a gathering to make us celebrate the fact that we’re all alive.

Stiles and I are in the backyard and he’s leaning back against one of the beams attached to the overhead pergola while I lean my back against his chest. He’s got his arms wrapped around my shoulders and my hands are gently gripping onto his forearms.

The party is more so taking place inside since it was raining earlier– which is how Stiles got me to come outside with him. I’ve got the smell of rain, the pergola fairy lights and best of all my Stiles… so I’m pretty happy right now.

Stiles is silent though and I could think he was just enjoying the quiet with me while the thumping bass of the party sounds in the house behind us, if it weren’t for the noise he just made. The noise is one he makes when he’s thinking about something that’s bothering him and once that noise is followed by him kissing my temple and squeezing his arms around me a little more… I know it’s something about me.

I move my thumbs against his forearms a little, leaning my head back against his shoulder as I ask him “What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing” Stiles replies too quickly and I throw him a look “Come on, at least lie better than that”

“I can’t lie to you” Stiles chuckles softly and I nod once, turning in his arms to face him while I smile brightly at him “I know.” I set my hands on his chest and slowly slide them up to wrap my arms behind his neck, asking him “So then tell me what’s on your mind”

Stiles makes a noise and takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he sets his hands on my hips and pulls me a little closer “Do yo– do you remember Lydia’s birthday party?”

“This one?” I laugh softly and he throws me a look “Obviously you remember this one or we have bigger problems right now concerning your memory, cutie.”

I snort and smile at him “Alright so not this one– which leaves last year because we’ve only been to two of her parties”

“Right,” he clears his throat, nodding his head ever so slightly and connecting his eyes with mine “So last year when we were all kinda…” he trails off and I nod once, my stomach dropping as I stand up a little more “Oh… umm yeah, the night of the wolfsbane” I smile softly at him, instantly hit with what I saw and really hoping he doesn't ask me about it.

“The hallucinations, yeah” Stiles clarifies and I nod slowly, trying to smile like it’s no big deal while also imploring “What’s making you think about that night?”

Stiles doesn’t answer right away, just moves his thumbs against my sides as he moves his eyes between mine. He licks his lips quickly and tilts his head a little to the side “Well I was just thinking back… and I– well you never said what you saw that night… when I asked you what you hallucinated, you told me it didn’t matter, remember?”

“Because it didn’t” I say gently, smiling to soften the blow of my deflection, however, he just narrows his eyes in thought at me “Right but it does matter. What we all saw was something that we were deep down afraid of actually happening or being true so I’m just curious I guess… why do you say it doesn’t matter?”

“Sty, come on” I breathe out, looking around the backyard for an escape plan. I feel him keep his hold on me so I don’t step away from him as he asks me in a soft whisper “Was it your dad? I mean from how he was when we were kids?”

I look back at him, breathing in deeply and slowly releasing it as I barely shake my head and answer him softly, “No, it wasn’t about him.”

“Ok then what was it?” he questions gently, looking at me with so much love in his eyes. I can tell how much this means to him but I can’t shake the nerves and embarrassment of actually telling him what happened in my mind. I mean he saw his dad blaming him for his mom’s death and Scott saw Jacksanima hooking up with Allison on the stairs and I what? Had a phenomenal kiss and then ultimate whiplash as he said it would never be right? No way I can share that with the person I’m now dating.

“Why are you remembering that night in particular right now?” I ask and he shrugs, looking around the backyard “We were standing basically right here with Scott that night. You looked…” he trails off, shaking his head and breathing out a soft huff before he connects his eyes with mine “Fuck, Adds, you looked gorgeous in that maroon lace dress and your black leather jacket.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” I say softly, my heart doing that little flutter thing that only Stiles can make happen and he makes a noise “Uh yeah I remember with vivid clarity the moment I walked into your house and I saw you. You made me stop breathing and I’m pretty sure I passed out because I think Scott hit my shoulder and said something but I couldn’t hear him and next thing I knew I was driving us to the party.”

I chuckle softly, knowing my eyes are sparkling as I look up at him and he continues “I mean you always look amazing, Adds– but something about you looking all sexy badass that night…” he trails off, breathing in deeply as his fingers dig into my sides a little more and he pulls me against him “Yeah, I almost blurted out that I was in love with you.”

“You did not” I chuckle softly and he makes a face like I could not be more wrong, “Uh yeah I did, ask Scott– the way he looked at me was the only thing that made me not because it wasn’t the right time. I also wasn’t aware he knew at the time but either way we were drinking and that wouldn’t have been the right time– right?”

“No it wouldn’t have been the right time” I agree with him, scrunching my nose up a little as I continue “Especially since you’re right we were drinking and I fully thought you were going to say Lydia’s name and I drank even more because I couldn’t handle hearing your declaration of love about her again at that moment.”

Stiles snorts and looks up to the covered lighted up pergola above us, breathing out “Of course you thought that” he shakes his head and looks at me again “So you were drinking because of me being a dumbass–”

“No, I was drinking because Lydia was being mind controlled by Peter and was sweetly forcing us all to drink spiked wolfsbane punch” I interrupt and he narrows his eyes at me “That may be why you took the first drink but I was the reason you drank more” I make a noise to argue, however, he just grips onto me a little more and doesn’t let me say another word as he rushes out “Which means you hallucinated what you did because of me which means you should tell me what you saw that night.”

“Why is this so important to you right now?” I ask, trying not to be defensive but I can’t help it when I’m just flooded with the memories of that night. “I mean,” I clear my throat and soften my voice, because even through the embarrassment taking hold on me I do know he’s just being his amazingly sweet self, “Why is it all of a sudden bothering you enough to want to know now?”

“It’s always bothered me, Adds,” he answers without missing a beat, his eyes so sincere I melt against him a little more while he continues “I’ve always wanted to know– since it happened to you.” His thumbs brush against my sides again, succeeding in lifting up my shirt so he’s touching my skin “The look on your face that night when I found you again has been burned in my brain. All I wanted to do was hug you and comfort you but you wouldn’t let me– I mean, you wouldn’t even look at me. Then fucking Matt almost drowned and we figured out he was the– you know, then the night and following days got crazy but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be there for you. Now I feel like I'm allowed to be there for you and comfort you even when you tell me nothing is bothering you– I’m allowed to be there for you in ways I wasn’t before and dammit woman, I want you to just let me.”

I chuckle and kiss him softly, “Okay” I murmur against his lips and he repeats “Okay? Like okay okay?”

I nod and pull back just enough to narrow my eyes playfully at him “Yes– okay as in I’ll tell you but after I do you have to drop it because half the reason I didn’t want to say anything was because I was embarrassed”

“Embarrassed?” Stiles scrunches his face up adorably and I throw him a look “Yes… now promise.”

“I promise after you tell me I will drop it” he repeats and I nod once “Thank you.”

Stiles kisses me quickly and says “Now tell me what you saw and were embarrassed about” he smiles wide “Please”

“Jesus you’re persistent” I grumble and he winks, his hands gripping onto me a little more “It’s why you love me”

I playfully glare at him, murmuring quietly “Yeah, yeah, yeah” and he gets impatient “Come on, tell me already”

“Oh for fucks sake” I throw him a look, and he smiles even wider at me. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves before I rip off the bandaid and rush out quickly “I hallucinated that you kissed me.”

Stiles’ brows raise instantly with my words “I kissed you–” he licks his lips quickly “You hallucinated that I kissed you?” he repeats, a bright cocky smile starting to come over his features and I grimace since I have to tell him the next part “Well that’s not all so don’t get too cocky.”

“Oh my god was it a bad kiss?” he draws his brows in on his own embarrassed grimace “It was wasn’t it? Is that why you waited so long to actually kiss me?”

“Nope– it was a good” I release a shaky breath “A really good kiss actually.”

“Oh really?” he says, cocky smile back on his face and I narrow my eyes at him “Stop it”

“Sorry” he murmurs, half smiling as pulls me more against his chest “Tell me how it played out then.”

I look up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and I breathe out nervously, shaking my head as I look away and focus on his chest “Well I was walking through the living room and you stalked towards me through the crowd of people with these deliberate I’d burn the world down for you steps until you set your hands on my hips and backed me against the wall… then you kissed me” I breathe in deeply, not really wanting to keep going “But then you…” I trail off quietly and Stiles’ voice is softer, more gentle as he asks even more quietly “Then what happened?”

I squeeze my eyes closed and grimace “Just as quickly as you kissed me you stopped and when I opened my eyes, you were looking at me but the look on your face… it was like you–” I clear my throat, my voice barely above a whisper as I tell him “It was like you just made the biggest mistake of your life”

“Adds–” he tries but I shake my head and look at him sadly before I drop my eyes again and look at my hands on his chest “Then you said ‘You’re not her and that this isn’t right’ you dropped your hands from my sides and you stepped back throwing in the next gut punch of ‘This will never be right’ before you walked into the crowd of people in front of us. I went to follow you but then it was like I was thrown back into this reality and the music was suddenly blaring again and everyone was dancing not even paying attention to me.”

It’s silent after I finish telling him what happened and I want to disappear with explaining everything that I still unfortunately remember. Stiles takes a few more silent seconds before he murmurs “Hey” and I make a little noise to acknowledge him and he chuckles softly “Come on baby, show me your blues”

The corners of my mouth lift a little as I silently curse him for somehow always getting me to listen to him and I slowly look up at him. When my eyes connect with his I don’t see anything but reassurance and love looking right back at me “You do realize that you never have to worry about what was said being true right? You have and will always be the only her in my mind– there will never be anyone else”

I smile softly with his words, nodding a little and he squeezes me to him a little more “You could have told me what happened that night”

Shaking my head I scoff lightheartedly “Sty, come on there’s absolutely no way I could have told you”

“Yes you could have!” He insists, chuckling a little “Then I could have told you that you were crazy–”

I snort and level him with a look “Yes brilliant idea to tell the girl who just hallucinated her first kiss with the guy she’s in love with that she’s crazy.”

“Okay we all were hallucinating that night” he tries to reassure me and I narrow my eyes thoughtfully at him “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better”

Stiles laughs softly, clearing his face of any humor as he gets a little more serious “Adds, if you told me that night what happened I would have told you right then that I was in love with you and only you”

I make a noise and ramble lightly “Well I wouldn’t have ever explained what happened that night because I thought you were in love with Lydia, so that just screams awkward trying to have you comfort me and my feelings when you love someone else but don’t want to hurt me and those feelings that just got dumped on you.”

He just blinks a few times and groans frustratedly, resting his forehead against mine “I can’t believe I was so stupid as to ever say something in your vicinity that would ever make you think you weren’t the only girl for me.”

I chuckle and move my nose along his “Yes, well… even Sherlock has his off days” I say gently and he connects his eyes with mine, breathing out a soft little chuckle.

He moves his eyes between mine before he lifts his head off mine and smiles like he just got a great idea “C’mere” he mumbles, reaching up and grabbing one of my hands in his before he starts walking me across the patio “Where are we going?” I ask, quickly moving my feet to keep up with him.

“Just follow me, babe” he says over his shoulder, keeping his hand tightly around mine as we walk into the living room. I flinch back a little from the loud music and talking noise, staying right behind him as he guides us through the crowd.

He walks past everyone that’s standing around talking and dancing on and near the staircase before he leads us over to Lydia’s dad’s old office. Figuring Lydia would have locked these doors I draw my brows together curiously as he opens one of the french doors and leads us inside.

I walk further into the office towards the bookcase on the far wall and I turn around to look at him as he closes and locks the door. I raise a brow and look from the lock and up to connect my gaze with his “What exactly are we doing in here?”

Stiles just keeps his gaze locked on mine as he murmurs simply “This” and recreates the I’d burn the world down for you steps I told him about and quickly stalks towards me. I make a little noise when he sets his hands on my hips and presses me back against the bookshelf, smiling in his adorably sexy way before he kisses me.

Yeah I may have thought the hallucination was a good kiss but I didn’t know any better because kissing the real thing is unlike anything I could have imagined. I set my hands on his sides, feeling him lift one hand to cradle the side of my face in his palm as he pulls me impossibly closer and moves his lips against mine.

I can’t even help the whimper that I make as I kiss him back, my hands gripping his shirt at his sides. Stiles responds with his own soft moan at my response and uses his hand to gently tilt my head and deepen the kiss.

He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on mine, gazing into my eyes as he moves his thumb against my cheek “Nothing has or will ever feel as right as this does, Adds. You are it for me and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how true that is so you will never question it, okay?”

“Yup” I sigh dreamily, wrapping my arms around his middle and licking my lips quickly as I smile softly up at him “I understand you loud and clear.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping to my lips as he licks his own and murmurs “Good” before he gives me another earth shattering kiss.

IABY PLAYLIST || <<PREV || MASTERLIST || NEXT>> ||

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Always love to hear your lovely people’s thoughts & if you’re not comfortable with that a like/reblog gives me just as much life! Please let know what you thought I'm so sorry to any and everyone who would not wished to be tagged anymore. Wasn't really sure how to tag this so just figured the last like I had for IABY and the IABY movie coming up would be ok. But please let me know if you would prefer to not be tagged in any IABY stuff in the future!

IABY Taglist: @lettersofwrittencollective • @brien-odylan @softpeteparker • @biles-bilinski-24 • @thatsuperherosidekick • @tothestarsandreams • @puppershnupps • @stilessarcasmqueen • @fandom-princess-forevermore • @glittercoveredsouls • @hueycat2004 • @fortunatelydelicateearthquake • @thehall0wqueeen • @kateeee0817 • @anoddsightcomeoutatnight • @marauderskeeper • @shantayok • @peachyinparis • @emichelle • @humbledarkness • @24-stilinski • @all-will-be-well-love • @screamxqueenx94 • @genius2050 • @soccersarah07 • @vikshee • @slothcat67 • @stilinski-fucking-obrien • @lemmereaditall • @redsalv20 • @the-winchester-girl02 • @missdicaprio • @awkwarddoctor • @cutiepiemimi13 • @thejourneyneverendsx • @xceafh • @michellebarista • @wandascarlett • @musicxlover97 • @fan-girl-97 • @theholydestiny • @nalu-ismyjam • @piccasoe • @bilesxbilinskixlahey • @nikki1dxx • @screaminggoatsposts • @kiwihoee • @teen--marvel @hogwartsstar • @sheerfreesia007 • @kmc1989 •

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is property of @stiles-o-dylan24. These characters, with the exception of Addy McCall(homegirl was all me), aren’t mine but this fanfiction is. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 14 May 2024

#it's always been you #Stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski x addy mccall #staddy #IABY #IABY bonus scene

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pergoletentex · 2 months

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#pergolatente #pergola tente #pergolax #pergola x

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pergolatentex · 4 months

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#Pergola Tente X #Pergola Tente #Pergole Tente X #PergolaTenteci #Pergola Tenteci #PergolaTenteX #PergolaX #PergoleX #Pergolacı #Pergoleci #By PergolaTente #By Pergola Tente

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callsigndragon · 1 year

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A little bit of courage | Bradley Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: all the fluffs

if you want to be tagged on everything tgm or on everthing rooster related, let me know down below in the comments! (with some love, very much appreciated! ❤️)

“Can you say that again? I want to check that I didn’t hear you wrong,” you say, feeling a ton of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. And not the good ones.

Rooster chuckles, taking one hand from the wheel to grab yours. “I said,” he kisses your knuckles and keeps looking ahead, “that I want you to meet my family.”

“Oh, yeah. I heard you right.”

“Are you scared?” Rooster asks, stopping the car at a red light and looking at you.

“Scared of meeting the people you work with, and not only that but also Maverick, who is not only your boss but also the closest thing to a father you have?” You look at him with wide eyes and a trembling smile, giving away your true feelings. “How could I be scared?”

“Honey, you know Phoenix and Hangman already.”

“But I haven’t met all of them at the same time!” You reply, covering your face. “Okay, just tell me when, so I can get mentally prepared for it.”

Bradley doesn’t respond for a few seconds before turning to the right and parking the car in front of a two-story light blue house. There are a few other cars and some bikes parked in the front, and you can hear animated conversation in the backyard. “...now?”

“Bradley Bradshaw, you have the worst timing in the history of timings.” You groan, looking at your brand new dress that he bought for you. “So that’s why you bought me this? So I didn’t get angry?”

Bradley pouts, looking like a child who has lost his favorite toy. “Are you angry?”

“I should.” You reply with a stern tone.

“But you aren’t, right?” He leans closer to you, pecking you on the cheek. “Right?”

“Don’t think kisses will fix this.” You scoff, grabbing your bag.

“Well, it depends on where I kiss you. I'll show you tonight."

You feel your face burn at the teasing tone on his voice, and the silent promise of fun activities that might take place tonight. “Let’s get inside before you start something here.”

Bradley gets out of the car, adjusting his clothes. Yellow Hawaiian shirt over a white t-shirt, and jeans. “You’re way too loud for that, baby girl.”

“Bradley!”

"Come on, everybody is waiting." He says, placing his hand on your lower back and leading you to the backyard.

Bradley's family is sitting under the brown cedar outdoor pergola, talking and laughing as the day fades and the San Diego sky darkens. Phoenix and Hangman, the only two faces you can recognize, are talking with a blonde man with glasses. They seem to be sharing something from the past with the other man, because she keeps shaking her head every time Jake speaks, as if he weren't telling the story as it really was.

There are more men and two other women, one of them seems pretty young. The blonde girl turns in your direction when he sees Bradley walking towards them, and when her face lits up, you know that she must be Amelia. Bradley talks a lot about her.

“Roos!”

“You need to stop growing up, look at you!” He gets closer to her, hugging her tightly and messing with her hair.

“Hey! Don’t do that.” She whines, fixing her hair with her fingers, before turning to you. “You’re y/n! Bradley talks a lot about you.”

Bradley’s ears turn red, and he clears his throat. “I don’t talk a lot. Just the normal amount.”

“Puh-lease, Bradshaw. You literally spent three hours talking about how marvelous she is, how beautiful she is, how she is the most-”

Bradley covers her mouth with his hand before she can keep embarrassing him. “It’s all lies.”

You nod, tightening your lips in a thin line to not smile. “Sure, all lies.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest.” He grabs your hand and walks you up to his family. “Hey, where’s Mav?”

“He’s with Mickey at the BBQ.” A woman with long, dark hair says, getting up from her seat. She’s Amelia’s mom, Penny. “And you, my dear, you must be the girl that has Bradley wrapped up around her finger.”

You chuckle, looking at your boyfriend. “I think it’s the other way around, ma’am.”

You spend the next few minutes getting introduced to the other aviators and learning their names, their call signs, and the stories behind them. It feels like you're part of the family already.

Maverick walks out of the BBQ station, Mickey close behind him, and places large amounts of meat on the dinner table set under the patio lights suspended from the big porch's ceiling. You don’t know who is behind the decoration, but they know how to create a cozy, inviting ambience.

“Hey, Mav! Want you to meet someone.” Bradley speaks when the whole group reunites around the dinner table.

“Oh, you’re y/n? And here I am, all greasy and sweaty.” Mav chuckles, offering you his hand.

“That’s like your everyday outfit.” Penny chimes in, making the rest laugh.

“Ignore my wife, please. She’s on a crusade to make me look like an idiot.” Maverick explains, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t need any help with that, honey!”

“I’m Pete Mitchell, but everyone calls me Maverick. Or just Mav.” He shakes your hand, chuckling at the fit of giggles around the room after her last dig against him.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

The night goes on smoothly. Small conversations over the most delicious food, laughs, jokes, happy memories, and sad ones are shared... When Rooster told you about his family and how none of them were blood related to him, you were a bit skeptical about it. But seeing the way they talk and share stories, how they always have each other’s backs, how they make plans for the near future and for the distant future, knowing that no matter what life has in store for them, they will be there, makes you realize that this found family is in no way inferior to any other one.

If any, it puts many families to shame.

“He loves you.” Maverick says, sitting next to you once dinner is over, and everyone is scattered around the backyard, some of them even playing a game called, dogfight football. You’ve never heard of that before.

“You think?” You ask him, playing with the edge of your dress. You haven’t said that yet. Not because you don’t feel it. You love him, and you’re sure of that.

But somehow... it never seemed the right moment.

“I know. I’ve known him all his life. He has it written on his forehead.” He chuckles, watching Bob fall to the ground trying to catch the ball.

“I don’t know, Mav… We’ve been together for a while now, but… Maybe he’s not ready for a-”

Mav raises a hand, stopping your train of thought. “He has lost every single member of his real family over the years, and for a while, he was alone. I wasn’t the godfather he needed, and I almost destroyed his career.”

“What did you do?”

“I pulled his application from the Naval Academy,” Maverick admits, feeling horrible.

“Oh god… Why would you do that?”

He sighs, weighing his options. “His mother asked me to. He doesn’t know.”

The news come as a shock. Why would he tell you this? He just met you! And now, you have that feeling of knowing a secret that you shouldn’t.

“Mav… why are you telling me this?” You ask, wanting to know why he is trusting you with such information.

“Because I want you to know that the other important woman in his life, his own mother, didn’t think he was prepared for being a fighter pilot.” Mav explains, watching Rooster and Hangman run around the backyard. “People have been underestimating him all his life. They thought he wasn’t prepared for the Navy, they thought he wasn’t prepared for the uranium mission…”

“Uranium mission?”

“That’s classified.” He grabs your hands, squeezing them a bit. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you may think that he’s not ready for a serious relationship, but he brought you here, with his family. He is ready.”

You stop for a second, thinking about the implications of his words. He really did that.

“He has brought you here, wanting to show you the family he has. The family that he wants you to be part of.” He insists, turning his head to look at all the members of this small but lovely family.

“I’m not an aviator, Mav. I don’t fit in”

Mav shakes his head. “Nobody wants you to fit. You’re different, and different doesn’t mean bad. It means that you have other specialties, and that we can learn a lot from you.”

“I don’t have a lot to teach y’all.” You chuckle, looking at your hands.

“I think you do. Bradley says that you encouraged him a lot on this last mission.”

You smile, remembering Bradley sitting down on the kitchen table, looking at the report in his hands, wondering if he was able to pull it off, or if he was going to burn in. “He can do whatever he wants. He’s more capable than he thinks.”

Maverick nods, kissing your hands before getting up. “And that’s why you’re here, love. To remind him that he can do whatever he sets his mind on. Even when the rest of the world tells him he can’t.”

When Maverick walks away, you stay there for a while, thinking of everything he has said. Maybe he really is prepared for that serious relationship you crave. Maybe he just needs a bit of encouragement.

“Honey, are you okay?” Bradley’s voice startles you, making him snort when you jump on the bench you have been sitting for a while. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I was just… thinking.”

Bradley sits with you, removing his shirt and putting it over your shoulders. “About what?”

“About how much I love you, how proud I am of you, and how glad I am to finally have met your family. Nat and I are going shopping together next week.”

Rooster smirks, liking his lips, while an airy laugh leaves his body. “You realized what you’ve just said?”

You nod, kissing the corner of his lips. “Want me to say it again?”

He shakes his head, grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, and lifts your head so he can look you in the eyes. “I love you too, y/n.”

He leans in, kissing you softly and lovingly, and he’s worried that you can hear his loud heartbeat.

“So you only needed a bit of courage, huh?” You joke, placing your head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“Nevermind.”

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@xoxabs88xox

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ghulehunknown · 5 months

Text

A Rainy Winter - Rain Ghoul x GN Reader

NSFW/MDNI

Summary: You find Rain by himself during the Ministry holiday party and decide to join him.

CW/Tags: shy Rain, mutual masturbation, public masturbation, fingering, semi-public blowjob

Word Count: 2.9K

Author’s Note: gender neutral terms used for the reader - core, front, nethers, entrance

You slid past the partygoers out the back doors leading to the patio, which was entirely empty except for Rain. He was sitting on the back steps under the pergola, silently watching the snow fall and melt once it hit the pavement. Well, it was really more like slushy rain. He had his head in his hands, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. The heaters were on but it was still chilly out, which meant it was the perfect place for an introvert to hide.

“I brought you some banoffee pie,” you said, sitting down beside him, poking at the pie with the fork to get the biggest first piece that would fit on it.

His eyes illuminated in the Christmas lights that were decorating the trellis of the pergola. “Banoffee? That’s my f- ”

“Favorite, I know.” You already had a forkful, ready to press to his lips.

He looked at your hand, hovering close to his face, then flicked his eyes back at you.

“Open,” you whispered with a smile.

His lips parted and you slid the dessert into his mouth, watching his lips close around the fork as you pulled it out slowly. “Mmm,” he let out, though probably louder than he intended because he immediately covered his mouth. “It’s so good,” he continued, muffled.

“Aww Rainy, didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?”

He snickered as he chewed, then happily swallowed and cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

You smiled warmly. “So, why are you out here? It’s fucking freezing.”

“I just…had enough of the mingling for now.”

“Do you want me to leave? I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No! No, it’s not that. I…I like one-on-one company. I just had to get out of there and think.”

“Okay. I can sit here and think with you,” you said, setting the pie down between you and leaning back, propping yourself up with your hands behind you. He took the fork in his hand and gathered another bite, slowly savoring it and going “mmm” again. He set the fork back down on the plate before leaning back on his hands, mirroring you.

As he chewed and you sat in comfortable silence, he inched his hand closer to yours, finally intertwining his pinky finger with yours.

You looked at him and smiled. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, and you thought you could see him blushing. You watched the snowfall for another few moments, the Christmas music and party conversations behind you in the ballroom barely even registering in this moment between you.

“Tour was really…” he started hesitantly, then reached for another bite of pie to break up the awkwardness of what he was about to say. He continued with his mouth full. “…rough.”

“What do you mean? Tour went great! You were amazing, Rain - I really mean that.”

“Yeah but almost two years away on and off…it’s been really tough. I feel like I hardly slept. Copia kept us on a really strict schedule and I never even knew what timezone I was in.”

You nodded. “When he’s in project mode, yes, he can be quite tough, I agree. But I thought you liked it? All the attention, the adoring fans, the parties. You were eating that shit up, I saw you. You’re quite popular online, you know.” You bumped shoulders with him.

He smiled and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, yeah I did. I mean I do, I love what I do. But I dunno about being ��popular,’ I mean we all know everyone is there for Papa. I mean - I get it, that’s how it should be…”

“Some of them are there for you, Rainy.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees.

“It’s true!” you exclaimed, leaning forward and turning to him. “All those girls in the front row, screaming ‘Rain! Rain! Kiss me in the Rain!’”

He laughed and shook his head, running his hands through his shoulder length brown hair. As he tousled his waves, you scooched closer to him.

You continued to mimic the fans. “‘Make it Rain!’ Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t like it, not even just a little?”

He smiled widely, like he seemed to be hiding something. He covered his blushing cheeks with his hands.

“You liked the attention! I knew it! I heard some girl flashed her tits at you.”

“She was wearing a bra underneath. So it doesn’t count,” he clarified.

“No, that counts! Bet you wished she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, mm?”

He paused before admitting, “Yeah well maybe I saw it anyway.”

You gasped. “Shut up! No you didn’t.”

He pursed his lips and looked ahead.

“Rain,” you persisted, a little too eagerly. “Did you fuck a fan?”

He continued pursing his lips silently, but you could see a smile creep across his lips as his cheeks rose towards his eyes, crinkled closed in amusement.

“Damn I didn’t even know you had game like that!” you teased, bumping his shoulder again.

His mouth opened in surprise as he looked at you in disbelief. “Fuck off, I do too have game!” He playfully shoved his fist into your shoulder.

“Where’d it happen then, hmm?”

“In France.”

“Oh yeah, those dirty French girls. Sure.”

“Yeah, well I did!” he said.

“What was her name?”

“Don’t remember, because there were three of them.”

“She had three names?” you asked with one eyebrow raised.

“No, there were three girls! So I had a French orgy with some girls - I mean chicks - I mean women,” he stammered.

“‘Three French chicks?’” you repeated, laughing. “Enough bullshit, Rain.”

“All right, fine. It was one and I saw her back at the tour buses and she gave me a blowie.”

You nodded, impressed. “Did she swallow?”

“Okay so maybe it was a handjob.”

“So she jerked you off in your pants?”

“Er - yeah,” he said, scratching his head.

“My friend, I think you had a wet dream, not a sexual encounter.”

He rolled his eyes and continued looking out into the garden.

“Maybe next tour you’ll go all the way, Rainy.”

“Yeah…I don’t even know if that’s what I want. The tour, I mean. I just need to think…”

“Well, I don’t think there will be another tour for a while. Haven’t you seen Copia, or have you been avoiding him for two months straight? He’s exhausted. He’s not the same young man he was…”

He sighed. “Yeah.” There was a slight concerned tone to his voice.

“Oh my god it’s not like Copia’s going to die or anything! Primo performed well into his…I dunno, hundreds?”

You both burst out laughing. How old was that fucking man anyway? Your laughter died down a bit and you sat together in each other’s company.

You could hear Wham!’s “Last Christmas” playing in the room behind you. You both looked behind you through the glass doors and could see a very intoxicated Copia, donning a sparkly green jacket, riling up the crowd, asking if anyone wanted to sing karaoke with him. “Awwww, come on!” he taunted a few siblings before turning to Phantom, who was dressed like one of Santa’s elves. “Phantom? Ehhh?” Everybody in the room cheered as Phantom took the mic from Papa.

“Huh. Copia’s annual terrorizing continues,” said Rain. “Found a new victim.”

“He’s not a bad boss, you know,” you said, both of you turning back around to face the garden.

“Nahhh, he’s all right. In the grand scheme of things.”

You muttered an approving “mmm” and nodded as he took another bite of pie and shoved the plate aside, empty except for the crust and some whipped cream. You noticed a bit of cream clung to his lips. You reached up to his face, your eyes meeting his as you brushed it off his lip. He gently licked it off your thumb. He pursed his lips immediately, as if questioning that move.

Suddenly you became very aware of your own heartbeat in your chest. You gazed into his brown eyes, the multicolored holiday lights reflecting in his irises.

He eyed the mistletoe hanging from the beam above you. Of course the Ministry liked hanging the plant anywhere they could this time of year. Would it really be a church of sin without a little encouragement from the boss? But this one had actually grown on the beams over your head, you just noticed. So perhaps more fate than planned.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly. He tucked a strand of hair behind his pointy ear and looked at you with his chin dipped down, so innocently. So purely. You wanted to corrupt him.

“You don’t need mistletoe for that,” you said, tilting your head to the side, watching him tilt the opposite way.

He leaned in to kiss you, the small hairs above his upper lip tickling you. He tasted of caramel and vanilla, remnants of the pie still in his mouth. He slid one hand into your hair as he slipped his tongue past your lips. Mmm, he tasted so good. He held onto your face with both hands as he continued to explore your mouth, alternating teasing his tongue along your lips and sucking your bottom lip, then pulling on it with his teeth.

You tried to smile and pull away as he did this, and he exhaled sharply, laughing at you. He released your bottom lip from his teeth and kissed you again.

Feeling the heat build up between your legs, you reached down to his front, past the waistband of his jeans, feeling around for his cock.

“Mmn!” he exclaimed, pulling away. “What the fuck! People will see!” He looked around wildly and back at the door into the Ministry, only a few feet away.

“It’s okay Rainy, they’re all too drunk and focused on the party to notice anything out here. Plus it’s dark out here and they can’t see us.”

“But I can see them, and it feels I dunno…”

“I promise they can’t see out the window when it’s this dark; they’re basically only seeing their reflections.” You kissed him, then sensed his hesitancy. “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

He paused. “You sure they can’t see us?”

“Positive.”

He kissed you for a few seconds before breaking away. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Pretty much?”

“Come on, live on the edge a little.”

He nodded and dove back into your lips, dancing his against yours and holding onto your waist. Clearly he was horny enough to not really give that much of a fuck.

“This okay?” you asked, reaching down his pants again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said breathlessly in between kisses.

You found his throbbing cock quickly, untucking it from the folds of his clothes. He moaned under his breath as you took it in your hands, stroking him gently.

He hastily unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down halfway over his hips, freeing himself partly. The head of his cock was pink and flushed, but the rest was a light gray color, matching his skin tone. You wrapped your hand around his member - already mostly hard, stroking him up and down. You felt him get harder until he was rock solid in your palm.

His eyes fluttered closed and he propped himself up on his hand, running the other through your hair. “Fuuuck,” he whispered as you twisted your hand up and down his shaft, rubbing the head with your thumb on the upstroke. “Just like that, yeah. Fuck, you do it so good.”

You moved closer to him, straddling his lap and kissing him. He sat up straighter, one hand still in your hair while kissing your lips, his other hand slipping inside your pants to your core. He began to stroke your front as well. You sighed - finally getting some relief to the tingling running through your nethers.

“Fuck, already so ready for me?” he said, smiling. You smiled back and your foreheads touched tenderly for a moment as both your hands worked feverishly between one another’s legs. You both moaned and breathed heavily.

His hand retreated from your pants, leaving you bucking your hips at the loss of sensation. He brought it up to his mouth and spit on it, then slid it back down towards your entrance, pushing two fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried, reaching up to grab onto the small horns on either side of his temple, using them to situate yourself as you began to grind against his lap, making sure to brush along his cock to stimulate him. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, wiggling them inside in a wave motion, driving you over the edge.

“You’re so tight,” he remarked with a grin. “Just like I knew you would be.”

“Fucking hell,” you breathed. “What, were you betting on it or something?”

“Only in my mind. I knew you’d be tight, and well, I was right.”

You laughed at his stupid little rhyme. If he could make you laugh and cum in the same night, you’d be impressed - and, oh fuck! - he just might.

“Fuck - Rain - oh fuck!” you cried out, his fingers pumping in and out of you surprisingly well in the confines of your clothes. You bucked your hips against him a final few times, riding the wave of your orgasm. You fell against his chest, breathing heavily.

“Feel good?” he said, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you breathed in your post-orgasm bliss. You held him close for a few minutes before looking at him again. “I can give you what you wanted to get in France.”

“Ahh, not here,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Not this again, you just made me cum on the patio! No one cares.”

“No, it’s…it’s cold and, he tends to shrink when…” he said with a grimace.

“I’ll warm you up, then,” you said, taking him by the hand and leading him through another door of the Ministry.

“Where are we - ? Hey, wait! No, stop, that’s where the people are!” he protested, yanking on your arm.

“Come on, trust me!” You ran past the doors leading to the party, catching glimpses of a drunk and stumbling Copia with his arm around a Sister of Sin, and off to the side door.

You pulled him inside, into a dark hallway that ran perpendicular to the main party hallway area and pushed him into an alcove that had a large floor-to-ceiling length window looking out into the garden. From this angle with the lack of interior lighting, you could clearly see onto the patio where the two of you just were. If anyone had been here in the shadows, they would’ve seen everything.

You backed him up against the wall, kissing him on the mouth and reaching for his cock again, fumbling with his pants.

“Mmn!” he mumbled, then broke away to look around. “Anyone could walk by when they leave the party!”

“I doubt it,” you assured him. “They’ll use the main hall. They’d have to be peering in every alcove to find us. You’ll just have to be reeeally, really quiet. Think you can manage that?”

He nodded.

“Good,” you continued. “Now take your clothes off.”

He slipped his sweater over his head as you yanked his pants off and tore off his boots.

His skin was soft and supple around his chest and abdomen. He was slender but still carried some cushion in his torso. God, he looked delicious. And the way the moonlight hit his profile, he looked like one of those marble sculptures you’d find in a Parisian museum.

You knelt down before him and finally got a good look at his cock, or at least the shape of it in the dark. Illuminated by the light outside, it cast a very long shadow against the wall.

You took it in your hand as it hung from his body, and it felt heavier in your hand now that he was standing. You nuzzled your face into his crotch, met with a thick mat of hair - so he liked to go au naturale, then.

You licked up and down his entire length as you stroked him. His breath caught in his throat and came out in a hiss. He was much longer and thicker than you would’ve thought from just looking at his lanky body. You kissed his hips, in the little dimples where they met his abdomen, then ghosted your breath again over his cock before taking him inside your mouth.

He cursed under his breath as you bobbed your head up and down, letting him go deeper and deeper. He ran his fingers through your hair, gently guiding you along his shaft.

“Mmmbedderana fwenjorjee?” you muttered against his crotch, mouth full of him.

“Aww, didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” he teased while twirling your hair around his index finger.

You rolled your eyes at him and continued to pleasure him, twisting your hand along his member as you moved him in and out of your mouth.

“Ah - Lucifer fu - ungffff -”

You giggled around him, the humming from your throat sending him over the edge as he pumped his hips into your face. He clung to the wall behind you, steadying himself with both hands. Warm, salty cum shot down your throat, spilling out and dribbling down your chin.

You stood up and wiped the cum off your chin with the back of your hand. You held him close, cradling his body in your arms, leaning in for a kiss.

“Better than a French orgy,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

#ghost band fanfic #the band ghost #ghost band smut #rain ghoul #rain x reader #rain X gender neutral #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band ghouls #nameless ghouls #ghoul smut #rain ghost #rain ghoul x reader

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flowersandbigteeth · 5 months

Text

Meeting your Changeling BF: pt 7

More fussy changeling, Clark ^_^ and secrets 🤫

General Plot: You and Clark embark on a mission

Word Count: 3.5k

Changeling (Clark) x f flower nymph reader

Previous parts and more nsfw monsters here

TW: Yandere behavior, Mention of Murder, light mind control, nsfw smut, bossy dommy Clark, degradation kink, oral sex, p in v sex

You woke to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold.

“Clark?” you called, but the house was silent.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you drew your brow. It was midmorning. Clark must have let you sleep in so you wouldn’t return to your lessons. He is rather naughty, hm? you thought, pushing yourself out of bed.

There was a knock on the door and you had to scramble down the stairs to open it. Ayla was on the other side looking amused and holding a stack of books under her arm.

“Ah, so he didn’t tie you to the bed as Hassan bet,” she said. “He’s out ten gold coins.”

She pushed past you into the living room, looking around.

“How nice,” she said. “He really fixed this place up, it used to be a dump.”

“I can’t believe he did that,” you huffed, annoyed. “Give me a moment, I’ve just woken up.”

“Take your time,” she said, waving at you as she plopped down on one of the couches. Embarrassed you brushed your teeth and got changed as quickly as you could, before bounding back downstairs.

Ayla put her arms behind her head and smiled at you.

“Shall we work in the garden today? It’s nice outside,” she said, standing and stretching her wings lazily.

“Isn’t always the same weather in Leotolas?” you asked and she chuckled, holding the door open for you.

Though the garden beds were all empty there was a nice iron table with some chairs and a small pergola for shade. She passed you a book and you opened it to the page from the day before. You started to practice with each letter. Some were sticking. There were a few that were easy to recognize, but others that looked so foreign they were hard to wrap your mind around. About two hours in, you realize Ayla was watching you, a faint smile on her lips.

“Is everything okay?” you asked and she nodded.

“You’re very pretty,” she commented. “I understand Clark’s obsession with you.”

Your cheeks burned at the compliment.

“Um…thank you,” you muttered, fingering one of the pages of the book nervously.

“Sometimes it bothers me that I look just like the other (Y/N),” you admitted. “I worry he sees her and not me.” Ayla looked thoughtful.

“My understanding is Clark’s relationship with the old (Y/N) was…complicated,” she said. “I’m sure yours is very different.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

“Would you like to take a break and work on flowering your garden?” she asked. “I have some suggestions on what you should grow. There are plants that would be useful to you as a nymph.”

She pulled a book from under the others. It was thin and looked more like a diary than the heavy, leather bound tombs.

“I obtained this from a nymph long ago, before I became a senior mage,” she said, passing it to you. “It’s her garden plan…well loosely…nymphs don’t exactly have organized plots or anything. I thought you could make some use of it.”

You accepted the book, flipping through the pages. You couldn’t read all of the words, but there were lots of pictures. Different plants organized next to others for reasons you couldn’t yet decipher. There were many detailed drawings of stems, leaves, and flowers. Much like how you’d felt in the mage’s garden the day before, you had a vague idea of each plant’s use as you looked at them and glancing around at the bare garden, you somehow instinctively knew what neede shade or more sun.

Holding the book open, you wandered the space, while Ayla watched, deciding where everything should go.

“I don’t have any seeds,” you murmured over your shoulder, but Ayla only snorted.

“You are the seed,” she laughed. “Go ahead and try one.”

You flipped to a few pages with trees, deciding as the anchors of the garden, they should be planted first. You chose a miniature one that resembled a lilac in the color and shape of its blooms. Placing your hand on the ground, you closed your eyes.

Hello again, the whisperer murmured, more coy this time, I thought you didn’t want to grow?

Her tinkling voice giggled in her head.

I don’t want to make the world wild, you corrected and you heard her huff in your head.

I wont help you, traitor, she snapped.

Really? You questioned. You don’t want to grow? Not even a little tree?

You felt the whisperer shift in your head, it was as almost as if her essence were circling you, trying to get the measure of you. She zapped you between the eyes with a sharp pain, but this time you were used to it.

One tree might become more, you said, trying to entice her.

You gasped as she forced a flood of energy at you in a rush, but you tried to act like a funnel as Ayla had said, pushing back…only letting a little leak out. It hurt. It was really very painful trying to hold her back, but before your eyes the tree sprouted. Branches split and leaves unfurled.

That’s enough, you barked at her, but she pushed and pushed.

You let out a moan, trying to hold her back, but no matter how she hurt you…you realized you were in control. It was painful, yes, but she couldn’t outwill you if you didn’t let her.

Spoiled, traitorous nymph, she spat, retreating in a huff.

You were left with a bubbling well of magic that she hadn’t bothered taking with her and quickly slid your fingers through the dirt to channel it into a few other small bushes and patches of herbs.

“Very good,” Ayla said, appearing beside you.

You plopped on the ground a bit of sweat on your brow.

“It’s not easy,” you said, catching your breath.

“No magic is easy,” she said, producing a ball of black fire and rolling it over her knuckles. “In time it becomes instinctual, but we all pay a price for power.”

“Can I learn mage magic?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yes, but I think you ought to get comfortable with your own magic first,” she said. “Giving the whisperer access to the powers of mages is…dubious.”

You nodded, as that made sense. You felt comfortable that you could hold her back, but if you were some reason distracted or your emotions high…you could easily lose control.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Clark shouted, appearing in the doorway, glaring at the two of you.

Ayla smirked.

“Giving your wife her lessons,” she laughed innocently. “What are you doing here?”

He marched across the patio, putting his body between you and her.

“I came home to have lunch with my wife,” he snapped, then turned to you. “How could you betray me like this?”

Your eyebrows popped up.

“Betray you?” you hissed. “You let me sleep in so that Ayla had to come find me in my pajamas! You did this!”

He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You needed to rest,” he pouted, his eyes falling on the tree you’d grown. “Is she making you do magic again? You know what happened last time! You’ll hurt yourself!”

You waved his concern away, standing.

“I’m just fine,” you said. “The more I practice the less it hurts.”

“I don’t approve,” he snarled, stomping his foot. “As your husband I’m putting a stop to this right now.”

Ayla laughed out loud.

“You may very well need her magic on your mission,” she pointed out.

“What mission?” he barked back.

She looked down at him, towering over his six and a half feet by four inches or so.

“The one you’re being sent on,” she said. “I’m tired of your stomping and crying. It’s not befitting a sergeant mage. Take your wife and go burn off some energy in Darkbell. There’s a wraith haunting the town that may need to be excorcised. Gather information and report back. If we determine an excorcistion is necessary you’ll complete it.”

His mouth fell open and he looked horrified.

“But Darkbell is dangerous enough without a wraith!” he gasped. “I’m not taking (Y/N) there!”

She smiled, showing her own sharp teeth.

“Ah, so you’ll leave her here with me? Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll make sure she gets fed and tucked in at night.”

Her eyes twinkled at him.

“I’ll do every little thing you do to her,” she said, bending down to look him in the eyes. “So you won’t have to worry about her being properly cared for.”

Clark waved his arms.

“Absolutely not,” he said, turning to you. “We’ll get our things packed and leave in the morning. You must follow my instructions to the letter!”

Ayla stretched her wings again.

“I’m going to head back to the Chamber,” she said, thumbing the books sitting on the table. “Be sure to take your books so you can practice on the journey.”

You nodded, a little excited to be sent on a mission. Seeing more of this world was something you looked forward to.

The minute the door shut behind her, Clark turned on you.

“What were you doing with her?” he asked, his eyes full of accusation.

“Learning my letters and blooming flowers, that’s all,” you said. “I thought you wanted me to fill the garden.”

He crossed his arms, tapping his foot.

“Not with her,” he pouted.

You gave him an indulgent frown and stuck your bottom lip out.

“It’s a pity you’re cross with me,” you sighed. “After all that hard work in the heat I was hoping you’d help me bathe…but I suppose you don’t even want me in your sight since I’m such a terrible wife. My head hurts a little bit, but I guess I’ll just have to take care of it all by myself. It’s what I deserve after all. I can’t even heat water…I’ll have to be naked in a cold bath…Maybe I’ll catch a cold with all of the icy water dripping off of me. It serves me right.”

You started towards the french doors and suddenly were held aloft as he swept you up in his arms.

“Of course you need me to bath you,” he growled. “You’re absolutely helpless without me and you smell of that shameless harpy! You know her kind are infested with lice, don't you? Don't let her hug you or you'll be crawling with vermin!"

You leaned your head into his chest as he stomped up to the second floor. You tried not to appear too smug as he filled the bath and undressed you and then himself. He picked you up again, climbing in and setting you between his long legs.

You felt him mouth the scar that had formed where he'd bitten you, reminding himself you were his. You wore his mark.

Minding the delicate flowers that wound through your hair, he carefully scrubbed your scalp, dousing you with warm water to rinse the soap away, then meticulously cleaned every inch of your body, muttering to himself about lice and harpy down. When he was mostly done, you leaned back into his chest, sighing as you skipped your fingers across the water he kept nice and warm with his magic. His large hands circled the expanse of skin just under your breasts.

“Mmm, your body is perfect,” he hummed, slipping down your stomach. “You’re so soft. No wonder she wants you.”

You clucked.

“Ayla doesn’t want me,” you said, softly. “She wants you to be happy...and I think she enjoys getting a rise out of you.”

He let out a grumbly growl, squeezing your hips and pulling you into the hardening shaft poking your back.

“In any case you’re mine,” he hissed, slipping two fingers between your lower folds.

You let out a gasp in surprise. A hand cupped your breast, pinching and tugging your nipple.

“I’ll fuck you on the garden table if I catch her hovering over you again,” he said, licking your neck, while he circled your clit and rolled your nipple between his fingers. “So she knows who you belong to.”

“Oh,” you whimpered.

His fingers left your nipple, sliding into your hair to jerk your head back against his chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his tone carrying a touch of cruelty. “Do you want her to see your drooling, crying face while I stuff you full of my cock? Hear you begging me? You turn into a pathetic little cum slut when I’m filling you up.”

“Mmm,” you mewled, his grasp loosening on your hair and slipping down your back.

Two fingers dove between your cheeks and you heard his give you a half hysterical chuckle as he circled your back hole before pressing inside.

“Ahhh,” you groaned, his other fingers still toying with your little pearl of nerves.

“I’ll fuck you here so she knows what an insolent whore you are,” he murmured as he thrust his fingers in and out.

His teeth scraped your bite mark as he played with your body, listening to your gasps and mewls in the quiet room.

“Every one of your holes…every inch of your body belongs to me,” he hummed into your skin. “If you keep behaving badly I’ll be forced to strip you and punish you until you learn. I’m not above disciplining you with an audience if that’s what it takes.”

He pushed you forward so that you were braced against the opposite lip of the tub, your ass exposed to him. You felt his eyes on you, as he examined the arch of your spine and the round curve of your bottom. Fingers slipped out of you and you yelped as a hand came down on your ass.

“Apologize to me for being an impudent whore,” he demanded.

“But I didn’t…” you gasped and another slap made your skin burn.

“Don’t speak unless it’s to admit your sins,” he barked. “You were showing off to Ayla! The only one you need to impress is me!”

He popped your bottom again, this time rubbing the burn away with his big hand. You felt him spread your cheeks and heard him spit on your puckered hole before he stuffed his fingers back in.

“Aggn!” you choked, in a delirious place between pleasure and pain as he thrust in and out of you.

“If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like a filthy whore,” he said, his voice amused. “Maybe I should send you to her office with your face covered in cum.”

“No, no!” you pleaded. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry Clark! I didn’t mean it.”

You heard him laugh.

“Good girl,” he hummed, lowering his body over you to nibble your earlobe. “I’m very forgiving…of you and you alone.”

A hand cradled your breast, teasing your nipple, while you felt his sharp teeth just barely pricking your neck. His mouth in his true form was so wide he could have killed you with one bite. The awareness of that fact made your breath skip. He dragged his long tongue down your spine until it was lapping at your pussy and back hole, soothing it from his rough treatment. His fingers dissappeared and you felt the smooth head of his cock replace his tongue on your cunt. He pinched and rolled your clit between the pads of his fingers. You moaned and begged, your mind a haze.

“Mmm, that’s it my needy little plaything,” he jeered. “Beg me. Beg me for what you know only I can give you.”

“Please Clark!” you pleaded. “Please. Please!”

He slammed his cock into you, jerking your body forward. His claws pressed into one hip as he held you where he wanted you to drive himself into you over and over. You drooled and sobbed as he hit the most sensitive spot inside of you like a jackhammer.

You heard his bestial grunts behind you.

“You were made just for me,” he gritted out. “Your tight cunt is perfect. You’re my sweet little wife.”

Your channel spasmed around his cock, milking him as he thrust you over the edge muttering praises. Howling his name you came all over his cock.

“Fuck,” Clark barked in suprise at your sudden tightness, a clawed hand wrapping around your hair and snapping you to his chest while he let himself explode inside of you.

His head drooped over your shoulder and you felt his hot breath brush your skin. The heavy weight of his hands moved affectionately over your body, gently cupping your breasts, then your stomach, then your hips.

“I hate pulling out of you,” he whined, dissapointed he couldn’t keep you plastered to him forever. “I want to be inside your warm little cunt always.”

All you could was whimper and pant for a moment while Clark reluctantly detached from you. He gently cleaned you up a bit before setting you on your feet on the fluffy rug beside the tub. Wrapping a towel around you and then his waist he gave you a warm look, brushing your damp hair behind your ear.

“Sit down,” he hummed pointing to a little stool and you followed his directions, happy to be off your tired legs.

He took his time carefully detangling and styling your hair. When he was pleased you looked like he wanted he carried you downstairs to make you dinner.

—

The next morning the two of you rose before dawn to set out towards Darkbell. The road to that part of Ilirion was rough and mountainous, so you couldn't take a carriage and expect to get there with any haste. Since you also had no idea how to ride a horse, Clark was happy to tuck you in front of him for the journey.

He'd dressed you in your warm coat and gloves but your nose still stung from the cold.

"What's Darkbell like?" you asked as the two of you loped along the rocky path.

"It's a night elf city," he explained. "Built into a mountain. It's actually a bit pretty, lots of crystals cut from the mountain and glowing fungus."

"Oh," you said, trying to imagine it.

"If only the residents were warm," he sighed. "They don't particularly like outsiders, we'll only be tolerated because they need our help. And if the Mage’s Chamber refuses to help them…we’ll have a very cold farewell.”

You gasped.

“Is it dangerous?” you asked and he laughed.

“Everywhere in this realm short of Leotolas is dangerous,” he said cheerfully. “It’s only a matter of flavor. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

As you entered the mountains, snow clouds darkened the sky making the path murky and full of shadows.

“I think someone is coming,” you said, squinting into the dim light.

Ahead of you there was a bluish glow.

“Some traveler, I’m sure,” he said, more interested in squeezing whatever of your flesh he could get his hands on.

The light came closer and closer until it was clear it was a lamp hanging on a rod, weilded by a hunched man. He looked like he was barely making it on the steep terrain. His drooping shoulders were draped in a heavy, but tattered fur.

“Travelers!” he called at you, “Can I beg your help?”

“Just ignore him,” Clark huffed. “Some vagrant probably kicked out of Darkbell.”

You pouted, digging in your jacket for the small coin purse Clark had given you before you left.

“Don’t be like that Clark,” you huffed. “He looks like an old man and it’s freezing out here!”

“What’s wrong?” you called to the man, “We only have one horse, but we’ll help if we can!”

The man lifted his head to reveal a wrinkled face, the skin like dark leather.

“Kind of you miss,” he said. “I only need a few coins for a night at an inn when I reach the base of the mountains. I can tell your fortune for a trade.”

You shook your head.

“You don’t need to bother yourself,” you assured him, digging out a handful of money. “A few coins isn’t much to ask.”

Before Clark could stop you, you were climbing down from the horse to offer him the money.

“(Y/N)!” Clark barked. “He could be dangerous!”

“You’re not dangerous, are you?” you asked the man offering him the gold.

When your hands touched you were surprised they were very warm.

“Such a kind creature,” he said, smiling revealing rotted teeth as he accepted your gift.

Close up his eyes glowed a bright green. You found yourself a little entranced by them. He pulled you closer till your faces almost touched.

“Since you are so kind, I will share a secret,” he narrowed his eyes on Clark before he whispered in your ear. “One cannot perform a soul swap on themselves.”

You jerked back, confused how he would know that that bit of information would be relevant to you.

“I’d keep that to yourself,” he chuckled and let you go, continuing down the mountain.

You stood numb in the snow, staring for a moment. Could that be true? He was just a random man, but why would he say such a thing?

“Are you okay?” Clark asked, appearing beside you. “He didn’t say something rude, did he?”

You blinked at him before pulling yourself out of your daze.

“Nothing…” you murmured. “Just…just nonsense. We should keep going.”

He helped you back on the horse, kissing your cheek.

“You shouldn’t engage strangers like that,” he huffed. “Your kindness could get you hurt.”

“I’ll..I’ll remember that,” you said.

The rest of the trip your mind churned. If the other (Y/N) didn’t do the soul swap…who did? And another question crossed your mind. You’d asked the other (Y/N) about it directly and she’d avoided the question. Why was she covering for whoever did it? She should be furious, right? Calling them out? You wish you knew how to contact her again to get some answers, but you were at a loss.

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