#today is my birthday actually so consider giving me a little kiss on the cheek | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daddy-dins-girl · 3 months

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Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday.

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

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

The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying.

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth.

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours.

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment.

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children.

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade.

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you.

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor.

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol.

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him.

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass.

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.”

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting.

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?”

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger.

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all.

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons.

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command.

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg.

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him.

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him.

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth.

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering.

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight.

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock.

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment.

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can.

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger.

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips.

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient.

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word.

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper.

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.”

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence.

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too.

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession.

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead.

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?”

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke.

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen.

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave.

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.”

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking.

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him.

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food.

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt.

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment.

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.”

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud.

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him.

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?”

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already.

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself.

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way.

#kishibe #kishibe csm #chainsaw man #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #kishibe x y/n #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #csm kishibe #kishibe brainrot #chainsaw man kishibe #dirty thirty

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 7 months

Note

HELLOOO! Hope you are doing well!

I just wanted to say that I really like your work and make a small request if you don't mind. My birthday is in a few days (October 20) and I wanted to know if you could write something about how Alec Hardy would treat you on your birthday?

Since that i really really like your fic about alec, thanks! <3

Thank You For Being a Friend

A/N: happy early birthday, love! Hope you enjoy this fluffy goodness, let me know your thoughts <3

Summary: DS Y/N Warner spends her birthday at work with her boss/partner DI Alec Hardy

Tags: fem!reader or fem!pronouns, fluff, established relationship, cussing/sexual inferences, just fluffy goodness

She'd sat in her car for a full 10 minutes, considering the merits of actually going into work. For one, it was her birthday and that could mean kind coworkers, an easy day, and loads of sweets. But, on the other hand, it was her birthday and that could mean everyone forgetting, giving her the shit end of the stick and being stuck in the office until at least 11pm. She glared at her mobile that still proudly declared that her boyfriend/boss DI Alec Hardy had not sent a Happy Birthday text. Or even a good morning text - though they weren't the sort of couple who did that anyway.

Y/N couldn't quite tell if he forgot or just wasn't a texter. Though she knew both could be true. She grumbled as she unbuckled, going inside like she knew she was going to anyway. The petty part of her knew she wasn't going to announce her birthday, they'd have to be the ones to remember.

The waiting had made her late, and Katie was not shy in saying so as she walked in and placed her stuff on her desk.

"You're late." The young officer said without bothering to look up from her papers.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "good observation."

"You're the Detective Sergeant, you shouldn't be late," Katie said, at least looking up this time through pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Alec came from his office, spectacles on his nose. He looked quite nice today, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into a neat pair of slacks. Even though he'd been more freshened in the past few years than his once more sickly ways, he hadn't looked that well in ages. Y/N found her brows shooting up in surprise.

"Lay off, Harford," Hardy grumbled without looking up, headed straight for the front of the office where he could delegate tasks for the day. The young officer's cheeks flushed though she maintained a calm expression as she gathered her notes to listen to her superior. Y/N tried to fight the little smile on her face.

"Few things for today, we've got a list of party goers from the Bakers this past weekend. Looks to be about 30." Alec Hardy went through each of the items for the day, a whole list of things that sounded boring and fascinating for the primary two cases and the smaller things. It came down to the final two, collecting witness statements or parking tickets. Y/N loathed parking duty more than anything. It was boring, tedious, and she quite fancied entirely useless to the whole of police work. But she hadn't heard Hardy call for her yet, and on days when it was something as simple as witness statements he'd shove the parking tickets to her. And on her bloody birthday, she groaned internally. "Warner, you're with me for the statements. Harford, parking tickets."

The DC's eyebrows shot up and she held back a very nasty scoff, "I've already got loads to do with the footprint of the thief!"

"And you'll find time for the tickets."

"You don't need two people for the statements," she argued.

"And I can always find another DC, can't I?" Alec finally said, removing his glasses to look Katie directly in the eyes. She cowered under him, though it was the reluctant sort of cower of someone who thought their opinion to be better. "Right, get to work."

People spread out quickly to do their tasks, Ellie popping by to press a quick kiss to Y/N on the cheek and murmur a happy birthday. They’d been friends long enough that Ellie knew Y/N didn’t want to make a big fuss over her birthday if nobody already knew. But she told her that she best have the best day and to cut Alec some slack, “he’s not great with the social stuff, but he cares.”

“I know, I know.”

Ellie grinned, “you have a great day and pop round mine after? Open a bottle of Chardonnay and watch Golden Girls?”

“Sounds amazing.”

"You ready, Warner?" Hardy asked as he left his office, hair just slightly mused and adorable glasses perched on the end of his nose. She smiled, he didn’t often wear those when he wasn’t reading. She loved them, but doubted he knew that.

"Yes, sir."

Ellie pinched Y/N’s elbow as she left to go to her desk for paperwork. DS Warner tried to stop the glee as she reached for her things to do witness statements with Alec. That was the sort of thing she enjoyed, actual footwork. An interrogation would have been nice but those didn't just get scheduled the way a nice ol' statement could've. She would take what she got, Alec telling the young DC to fuck off and to enjoy her time with him.

They walked dutifully down to her car, and to her surprise Alec plucked the keys from her hand and slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t drive often. Not that he couldn’t, or hated it, but because when his heart condition was flaring up and the bastard was too stubborn to get the pacemaker, she had become the accidental designated driver. So seeing him drive was out of the ordinary.

“You’re driving?” She asked as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

Alec scoffed, adjusting the heat so it was damn near freezing, “you act like I don’t have a license.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Shut it.” His arm came to rest on the back of her seat while he backed out, and she allowed herself to stare at him, just a little. He was her man, after all. She had a little right to do so.

They drive in companionable silence for just under thirty minutes as Alec pulled up to the home of one of the partygoers. This particular man, Teagan Garrett, was on the middle of their list. Just unnoticeable that he didn’t strike any alarm bells, but with no solid alibi at the time of the robbery. Which left them straight at the middle.

DS Warner enjoyed doing this, even if some found it tedious. She didn’t have to spend her day holed up in an office, wondering what the next move was and not knowing where her information was going. Whenever she was in the office, she felt it wasn’t accurately reaching the people on the ground, but that was another issue for another day. Today was her birthday, and she was going to spend it well.

And about 15 minutes later, she was spending it happily eating a Danish in the car as Alec drove to the next house. Garrett wasn’t suspicious at all, but he made a delightful cherry Danish that smeared red on her lips but she didn’t care. Y/N ate it happily and smiled out the window, watching the hills blend together.

Before they left the car for the next one, Alec touched her shoulder gently to get her attention.

“Darling, you’ve got…” he lifted a hand, cradling her jaw as he swiped at the cherry filling along the corner of her mouth. Then, without breaking eye contact through those spectacles, Alec popped his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean of the filling. Her mouth fell open in slight shock, feeling her body thrum under the energy of it. There was a look in his eyes, a quirk of his mouth, that seemed to suggest he knew exactly what he was doing. But he said nothing more as he gathered his belongings and left the car.

She blinked, took a deep breath and one last clench of her thighs before getting out of the car as well. Alec Hardy was already several steps ahead of her, a knowing smirk before putting on his disgruntled detective expression. Y/N didn’t know how to feel. On one hand she wanted to grab him by the back of his neck and force him to use that tongue elsewhere, and on the other she wanted to bash him with her purse for getting her so riled up before the next meeting.

If Y/N had paid much attention to Alec’s actions throughout the day, she would have noticed that he both treated her and teased her continuously. He’d give her a cuppa just the way she liked, then compliment her so blatantly before they had to leave she was bright red. It happened that way all day, and by 10am she’d even forgotten it was her birthday and that Alec had forgotten as well. It was just a bizarre day full of danishes and sexy eyes - though she certainly wasn’t complaining.

By 5pm, her feet were exhausting her. Ellie’s earlier invitation of opening a bottle of wine and watching Golden Girls until they pass out to the floor sounded like an amazing idea.

“D’you mind if we go to Miller’s? Got a packet to pick up.”

Her brows furrowed, “oh, um, yeah. I’ve actually meant to go there myself.”

He nodded this as good news, squeezed her thigh, then continued the drive. She looked out the window to avoid his confident smirk that he’d fired her up, knowing he had. It didn’t take long to reach Ellie’s, and Y/N noticed the lights in the Latimer home were off. She wondered where they were this time of day, it wasn’t like Beth to go out for dinner.

Alec parked and the two of them walked up to the house, his hand resting on the small of her back. She wanted to lean into his comforting touch.

“Have I told you yet you look good today?” Y/N mentioned softly to Alec, looking up at him.

He let out a small smile, “I should tell you that.”

“You already did.” She pointed out.

With a soft touch, Alec grabbed her waist and pulled her against him. All he did was press a soft kiss to her forehead, but it was enough to make her let out a sigh of relief. She wanted to use Alec as a personal comforter and sleep for the next decade.

Ellie swung the door wide open, smile bright and arms wide to scurry the couple in. Her and Alec disappeared into the dining room as Y/N shucked her shoes off.

“Ellie?” She called, not knowing where they’d gone. “Alec?”

“Dining room, darling!” Y/N walked on sore feet through the kitchen, prepared to badger Alec about why he’d run off the second the door opened. But she stopped, staring with wide eyes.

In front of her, Beth and Chloe Latimer, Ellie, and Alec all stood awkwardly around a table covered in her favorite things. A tastefully done dish lie in the center, the smell enough to make her mouth water. And a chilled Chardonnay already opened and poured into a glass in Alec’s proffered hand.

“Happy Birthday!” The girls all squealed out at once, causing Alec’s face to scrunch up in annoyance. The sight made you giggle.

Chloe Latimer went and grabbed Y/N’s hand, leading her to the head of table, “come, come, I’ll prepare a plate for you!”

“Oh my, thank you all so much. This is astounding!”

Ellie shot a pointed look towards DI Alec Hardy, who offered her the chilled glass of wine. He came close enough to whisper and said, “you didn’t think I forgot, didya?”

She flushed, feeling awful guilty now. It wasn’t that he was a bad partner, she’d never thought that. Their lives were beyond stressful, birthdays seemed superficial sometimes.

“You hate these kind of things.”

He cocked his head to the side, “you don’t.”

She set her glass down to grab his face, but he beat her to it, lips meeting hers with that unrestrained passion she found so pleasantly addictive. His beard scraped her skin but she’d found in recent months that she loved that feeling, and he knew it.

Y/N would have loved to carry this makeout session farther, but then she felt a chip thrown at her face by Chloe, and gingerly removed herself from Alec. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink. Beth and Ellie both waggled their eyebrows at her, then burst into laughing upon realizing they did it at the same time.

It was shaping up to be a rather lovely birthday after all.

#broadchurch s3 #broadchurch s2 #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy #i am in desperate need of a sad wet cat detective #wet cat yet he still looks so hot #this is for the girlies whose love language is gifts/acts of service #I see you #i’m happy the 12 of you who read broadchurch fics will enjoy this #binging broadchurch #broadchurch fanfiction #go feral go crazy write fanfic

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abiiors · 1 year

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For the birthday blurbs/concepts, it's your birthday (😉) George has planned the entire morning, he's going to make you breakfast and give you the big present he hid. But once he opens his eyes, falling on your cute face. He's admiring you, feeling so lucky...until he notices your red cheeks, your hips slowly moving, and when his name falls from your lips like a moan, he forgets his plans. George, the sweet and hot boyfriend he's, starts helping you...trying to give you the first present of the day: a mind-blowing orgasm.

oh my god this is so cute and so fucking HOT! FUCK, ANYWAY minors dni as always

i very much am of the opinion that george is someone who believes in making his feelings known through his actions. so of course he has to go all out and meticulously consider every last detail of your birthday plans. and it's not limited to only the day of, he made nail appointments for both of you the weekend before to get matching nails <3 and he has a pile of gifts hidden away; one for each year you've been alive because spoiling you is his favourite hobby. anyway he's awake half an hour before you usually wake up because he has a whole breakfast menu planned that includes all your favourites and he's just taking these last few moments to think of the entire day he has planned. he's so so excited to see your smile and how you would react to every little thing he has planned. so he's just about to get out of bed when he notices you shudder next to him. at first he freezes because he doesn't want you to wake up and spoil the surprise but then he notices the pink cheeks, the very faint sheen of sweat and another shudder that goes through you and he panics thinking you have a fever or something, about to check your forehead when he hears a faint moan that is certainly NOT a moan of illness followed by what sounds vaguely like his name and he has to actually sit back for a second to take in the scene. you have your hand between your thighs, grinding against it and the duvet very subtly, cheeks flushed, lips parted and back arched just so that he can see your nipples under the thin cotton t-shirt. and of course once he's done admiring the scene and getting his own filthy thoughts started (because you say his name again, louder this time), he is nothing is not hellbent on pleasing you today. breakfast in bed can wait, fuck it can certainly turn into a post-sex brunch in bed. right now, he just slides back in behind you, pressing himself against your ass (that you grind against almost instantly) and places his hand over yours that you've got trapped between your thighs.

'what do we have here love?' whispered right next to your ear in his very gravelly morning voice and he KNOWS it will wake you up because you stir next to him and push yourself into him even more. he has his large hand over yours, guiding it to where he knows he will find a damp spot. 'wanna tell me what's going on in that filthy mind of yours?' another whisper. another shiver that goes through you as you blink your eyes open. still only halfway between dream and reality, thoroughly enjoying how he makes you rub your hand against your core, how he presses lingering hot kisses on your jaw and then in an instant how he flips you on your back so he can get on top of you.

'george...' you breathe, still in the clutches of the fantastic dream, hand still half buried in your underwear, 'it was so real, it felt so...' another gasp as he trails those kisses down your chest, your stomach until he finally stops just above the band. 'tell me about it, tell me what you want,' all while he makes intense eye contact and holds your thighs to keep them parted. so you tell him all about it, every sentence punctuated with broken gasps and small moans as he drags your panties off you with his teeth. 'i could feel your mou---' but you never get to finish the thought because his mouth is on you at that exact moment turning that sentence into a strangled cry. your thighs clench around his head immediately, hands fisting into the sheets and toes curling as your back almost completely arches off the bed. he instantly takes advantage of this to press a hand flat on your stomach to hold you in place, keeps sucking on your clit and alternating it with kitten licks and just going for it along with the occasional teeth against your inner thigh until you are practically screaming his name loud enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood. and just as you are so close to losing your sanity entirely, there he is, pushing a finger in and hooking it at the last moment before he starts pumping it in and out. perfectly in sync with his mouth. the callouses on his fingers feel just the right amount of rough and at this point you have no idea if you're squeezing his head too hard with your thighs or what kind of sounds are coming out of your mouth because your eyes are rolled so far back in your head that you see stars right before he grazes his teeth against your clit and thrusts his fingers in deep.

he can tell you're about to cum just by how tightly you clench around him, body almost lifted off the bed, filthy obscene and wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you and even filthier sounds coming out of your mouth, he's convinced he's never seen a prettier sight. 'my beautiful darling,' he almost sighs against your skin, tasting as much of you as he can when you absolutely shatter against his tongue. shuddering breaths and heavy pants and the constant whimpers as your ride out your orgasm by grinding on his face some more which he's only happy to assist with until slowly your legs stop spasming (but still trembling). and that's when he pushes himself up to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your stomach, waiting for you to open your eyes and peppering your stomach and ribs with featherlight kisses.

'happy birthday, baby,' he smiles sweetly when you finally open your eyes, 'i hope i lived up to dream george,' he teases. and even though you've just been fucked to within an inch of your life, you still blush deeply once you remember what started this. his deep belly laugh sends tingles down your spine as you mumble a quick shy yes into the pillow and wait for him to give your birthday/good morning kiss <3

#MINORS DO NOT INTERACT #birthday asks #✉️#♧: george blurbs #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you

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starsofmilos · 1 year

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Use Your Fingers (Eddie Munson x reader)

Request: ooh could you write something with eddie trying to teach the reader guitar?

OOOOHH I love this idea! It sounds so cute! Also I have an announcement to make soon and I hope you guys enjoy this story! Also sorry but this is a small blurb! Kinda lol

Masterlist

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, fluff, mentions of rocky relationship with parent, Eddie is a simp

Eddie held very little things he considered actually valuable.

Growing up he didn’t have valuable things and when he got older and started making his own money he used it mostly for things he needed.

There was the occasion where he felt like he deserved a treat so whether it be a new guitar pick or a fast food burger.

Eddie Munson held very little things that he considered valuable and his guitar was one of them.

His sweetheart as he called her.

He never let anyone touch her. Not even his Uncle Wayne who had gifted him it on his thirteenth birthday.

No one touched his sweetheart. Not even you.

Yes you.

The love of his life and the person he swore he was gonna marry. You loved him just as much.

“Eddie!” You yelped as he threw you down on his bed jumping on top of you.

“Yes my love?” He kissed your cheek smiling as you giggled wiggling underneath him.

“Get off please?” He hummed as he laid his full weight on top of you.

“No. You are too comfy.” You leaned up kissing him softly.

“I love you..but I wanna go make us some mac and cheese.” Eddie sighed contemplating it before shaking his head blowing a raspberry into your cheek.

“No.”

“Eddie!” Wiggling underneath him, you huffed as he blew more raspberries in your cheek.

“I said no. Wanna hear it in Spanish? Noh.” You laughed as he nuzzled into your neck.

“I’ll take us to get food in a bit...” He grumbled out after you released a small sigh of defeat.

“Okay..” You wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a deep kiss. Eddie’s breath hitched as you wrapped your legs around him keeping him on you.

“Fuck if you keep kissing me like this I’m never gonna move.” You smiled running your hand through your hair. Eddie groaned giving you a small playful glare.

“I’ll stop then..” You whispered against his lips. Eddie shook his head smiling back.

“I never said stop..” You rolled your eyes pushing him off of you. He groaned grabbing your waist to pull you back to him.

You laughed before catching his guitar in your eyesight. “Your sweetheart is looking especially nice today.”

“I know you are.” He sat up as you gave him a blank stare.

“I meant your guitar.”

“Oh..well you’re both my sweethearts so..” You chuckled lightly leaning into him. It was quiet for a small moment as you gazed at his guitar.

“You know it’s kinda funny sometimes when I was younger I wanted to play the guitar..”

Eddie’s head snapped to you within seconds. You could’ve swore you heard it crack. “You did?”

“Yeah..My dad didn’t let me said it was a ‘boys’ instrument so I played the piano instead. More feminine like.” Eddie was a bit taken aback by your words.

He knew your relationship with your father was rocky, but he never expected that. “You do play beautifully, but you would’ve been killer on guitar.”

“Yeah..well it is in the past-”

“Not necessarily. Would you still wanna learn?”

“Well yeah, but I don’t know anyone who could teach me-” Eddie kissed you softly cutting you off.

“Wait right here.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion before gasping softly seeing Eddie sit next to you with his guitar in his hand.

“No..Eddie I can’t.”

“Oh come on! Look this is my most prized possession and I wanna teach you how to play.”

“That’s why! I’m pretty sure you love that thing more than me! I can’t possibly-”

“Uh yeah you can. Look maybe I do love this more than you, but I trust you and I’m gonna be right here. So here grab it.” He teased placing it in your hands.

You took it a bit shakily as Eddie moved behind you looking over your shoulders.

“Relax..Gotta have steady hands..” He whispered in your ear positioning your fingers.

“Alright when you play you need to know your cords so we’ll go over some this is a d cord..and this one is a..so play a first then d..”

You nodded strumming as he instructed you too. “So A and D..Now I’m gonna show you G..”

Hissing a bit from your fingers strumming Eddie pulled back cursing under his breath. “Sorry I forgot to give you a guitar pick. Here..”

He reached over to his bedside handing you his favorite one. “Alright now this is G..so play A/D then G/D..”

“Wait these cords sound familiar..and I know for sure this isn’t your type of music.” Eddie shrugged trying not to make it a big deal.

He may have spent the last month teaching himself your favorite songs so he could play them for you as a surprise.

Eddie had it bad for you.

“So maybe I learned a few of your favorites-”

“Eddie Munson learned some tears for fears for little ole me?” Eddie felt his chest tighten a bit seeing the lovestruck look on your face.

“You should by now I’d do anything for you now come on play the cords.” You laughed as he kissed your cheek using his hands to guide your fingers.

“This is my favorite song too..Everybody wants to rule the world..”

“I know it is and might I say you are a natural at this already. Gotta say pretty metal of you to learn this quickly.”

“I’ve learned two cords besides I don’t think the music you’re teaching me is considered metal.”

“Well probably not, but you’re pretty metal and cool and smart and beautiful-”

“Shut up Eddie.” You grew flustered as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Fine, but practice those cords.” Sighing you listened to him playing the cords for a good ten minutes.

“Okay safe to say you got those down. That’s basically the beginning. We gotta move onto the chorus, but I know my girl is hungry so how about you sleep over and we continue?”

“Damn if you’re trying to get laid tonight you’re succeeding.”

“I am?” Eddie raised an eyebrow as he moved taking the guitar from you. You nodded looking in amazement as he hung up his ‘sweetheart.’

“Yes you are.” Eddie gripped your chin giving you a soft kiss before sighing.

“Yeah too bad we’re gonna play guitar tonight. Even worse for me though cause seeing you playing guitar is already doing things to me.”

Pouting up at him you laughed as he kissed you again lifting you off the bed to drag you out. “Do you think you could teach me some Cyndi Lauper?”

“Oh for sure..Let me learn it first then I’ll teach you it.”

“Can I listen in?” You gave him a small hopeful look. Eddie grinned nodding as he opened his van door for you.

“Of course you can. I’d love nothing more than my two sweethearts together.”

You held his hand as he drove you both off into the night ranting about what songs you wanted to learn and how excited you were.

Eddie didn’t hold much he considered valuable and for sure it would stay his own secret, but you were the most valuable thing in his entire life.

He’d let you play his guitar and even better teach you how to play so long as you kept smiling at him like the way you were right now.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

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imaginecolby · 2 months

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Friends with Benefits || Part Ten - The First Part of Forever

"are you busy?" colby text you one afternoon.

"not at the moment. i just left for my lunch break." you replied. as soon as it was marked read, he was calling you on facetime. "hi baby." you said with a smile when you answered.

"we miss you." he pouted, panning the camera to show lucas asleep on his chest. it was monday morning, and you had to go back to work after taking a few days off to spend with your boys.

"oh, stop. i will literally quit my job right now and come home." you joked.

"that's fine. daddy can support us, and you can be a stay at home mom." colby teased.

"you joke, as if i haven't heavily considered that." you laughed. truthfully, you loved your job, and the people you worked with, so you wouldn't actually ever leave. but you missed your boys so much every day, that it took all you had in you to not drop everything and rush home.

the first few years of parenthood had been better than you expected them. lucas was such a great kid, and already so incredibly smart. you just celebrated his fourth birthday, and you couldn't believe how fast he was growing up, but you loved getting to watch him grow every day.

you talked with colby throughout your entire lunch break, and a little bit after you got back to work. the rest of the day went by so slow, and all you wanted was to get home. once you left work, you drove home as fast you could. you let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the driveway, glad to finally be home. you gathered your bags and went inside, kicking your shoes off by the door.

"mommy!" a tiny voice cheered as you walked into the kitchen.

"hello my baby!" you cheered as lucas jumped into your arms. you held him tight and pressed a kiss to his cheeks. "i missed you today." you said, kissing him again.

"me and daddy missed you too." he said softly. just then, colby came into the kitchen, saying hello and giving you a quick kiss.

"it's true." he laughed, moving to sit at the island. "lucas, you wanna tell mommy what happened today?" colby asked him. lucas turned his attention to you, giving a big smile. what was once a large toothy grin now had a noticable gap in the front. you felt your eyes widen, gasping loudly.

"i lost a tooth!" he cheered, kicking in your arms.

"your first tooth!" you cheered along with him. "make sure you put it under your pillow tonight so the tooth fairy can find it." you said, kissing his cheek again. he squirmed out of your arms and you heard him run off to his room. you turned to colby as a pout pulled on your lip. "his first tooth." you whined.

"i know." he said, pulling you into his lap. "fell out literally as soon as you and i hung up earlier." he laughed.

"i can't believe i missed it." you sighed. you draped your arm around colby's neck, leaning into his chest. you felt the stress from your day finally melt away, finding solace and comfort in colby's arms. you both sat there quietly, enjoying the peace, until lucas came running back into the kitchen.

"daddy, i'm hungry." he pouted, leaning into colby's side.

"i know, bud. our pizza should be here soon." colby said to him.

"okay!" he said before wandering off. you heard him turn on the tv in the living room, laughing as the theme song played to his favorite cartoon. you stood from colby's lap and he shortly followed suit, rising from his chair.

"i'm gonna go change before dinner gets here." you said, pressing a kiss to his lips before grabbing your things and heading upstairs. you changed into some lounge clothes and met the boys in the dining room where colby was making everyone plates. you sat down at the table as colby placed a plate in front of you. the three of you enjoyed your meal, making conversation.

after dinner, the three of you lounged in the living room, lucas' cartoon still playing on the tv. you and colby were snuggled up on the couch, and lucas was on the floor, playing with some his toys. you watched him with stars in your eyes, still beside yourself that this was your kid, and that he was growing up so fast.

you loved him with your whole heart, and would do anything to protect him from whatever bad things were thrown his way. you had a good feeling that he was going to grow up to be wonderful young man, and you couldn't wait to experience it all.

after a while, lucas was done playing, and had crawled onto the couch, nuzzling himself in between you and colby. he quickly fell asleep, breathing quietly beneath you. after a while, you moved slowly to carry him up to bed, being extra careful as to not wake him up. you laid him in his bed and tucked him in, wishing him a good night. you stood there watching him sleep before colby's voice sounded in your ear, scaring you.

"so, how much is the tooth fairy gonna leave him?" he asked, pulling wad of cash out of his pocket. "all i have is twenties."

"cole, we are not giving our four-year-old a twenty dollar bill for a single tooth."

"ooh, not the real first name. that hurts." he laughed, placing his hand over his heart, feining offense. you rolled your eyes and walked off to your bedroom.

"he can have one dollar." you asserted, grabbing some change from your dresser. you went back to lucas' room, carefully removing the tooth from underneath his pillow and placing the stack of quarters on his nightstand.

"i can't believe he's already lost his first tooth." you pouted again, suddenly feeling the tears well in your eyes.

"i feel like this is all happening so fast, but i can't wait to continue to watch him grow. he's gonna have so many incredible experiences, and i can't wat for us to be there to see them all." colby said as you walked back down to your bedroom. you stood at the foot of your bed, stumbling a bit as colby suddenly pulled you into his arms. he kissed you softly, and held you tight.

"i love you." you said, kissing him again.

"i love you more." he said, lips barely moving from yours. you quickly deepened the kiss, as colby's arms wrapped tighter around your waist. he lifted you slightly off the ground, and you followed his cue, wrapping your legs around him.

he carried you the few steps to the edge of the bed, laying you down beneath him. his lips pressed along the inches of your skin, down your neck, across your chest, in between your breasts, and down your stomach.

"let's make another one." he said out of breath, before pressing his lips met yours again. you pulled his face away and locked eyes with him, smiling wide before nodding.

"lock the door." you smirked.

“mmm, yes ma’am.” he said, his lips brushing yours as he moved to the bedroom door, quickly flipping the lock.

sex with colby never failed to satisfy you, and knowing that you had him all to yourself made it all the more perfect. after you finished that night, you cuddled for a bit, the two of you laying in a perfect silence as you both drifted off to sleep.

this was your forever; it was by no means perfect, but it was exactly what you wanted. your wonderful husband, your wonderful son, and your wonderful life. it was perfect to you, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagines #fwb

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pridewon · 2 years

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@soverina said: she sneaks up behind him with a ‘ boo ! ’, playfully bringing lithe arms around waist through laughter. after one final squeeze, the woman releases him with a step back — the widest of grins adorning features, “ hello, birthday boy !! ” she flashes him two gift bags hanging from her wrists, offering them eagerly, “ one is from wakatoshi and the other is from myself; since he had to go back to Poland, he’s tasked me the favor of giving this to you.” a glint of fondness coats stare, “ I have to thank you, by the way… if it hadn’t been you who ultimately convinced me to go to that volleyball event, i would have never run into wakatoshi and we would have never worked things out. ” not that peach wanted to make today about her and wakatoshi; today was goshiki’s day — but she swears she has a point to this speech. “ i’ve always viewed you as the little brother i never had, and that’s probably why I was always so protective of you, ” even if it drove some of the team crazy. “ but it seems that sometimes you’re more like a big brother who looks out for me, too; you’ve really grown into a man I’m proud to call my friend. ” from the tips of her toes, the doctor guides him down to place a chase kiss to his cheek, “ and an incredible volleyball player who showed that even when the odds feel against you, you can still beat them. “ she reaches up an ruffles his hair with a snicker, “ okay, let’s go; I’m treating you to a birthday lunch. “ / for precious baby eagle chick ;u;

Goshiki prides himself on his growth and evolution - both as a young adult and a volleyball player. It seems like yesterday, that he was the greenhorn of Shirtorizawa’s prestigious team; teased and sometimes babied by teammates that looked like titans to his young and awe-struck eyes. He used to crumble under pressure - now he boasts about being able to take it head on, like a real ace, and can actually back it up. He used to have to fight back wells of tears whenever his coach would yell at him and break his impressionable spirits; now he claims loud and clear that he can, in fact, take criticism, and that he doesn’t cry anymore. Ha.

The factor he conveniently forgets is that -- criticism was never the only thing that triggered the waterworks.

Goshiki would love to say he can be stoic and strong in the face of heartfelt moments, but... the truth? The truth is that the years may go by in the blink of an eye, and he still finds, time and time again, that he is, in fact, easily moved and easily thrown back into his emotional nature... and there are few people in this world who manage to flip that switch as easily as his former manager.

Dumbfounded, Goshiki listens to her birthday speech; he goes to protest that he didn’t do anything, that he was happy everything worked out between her and Ushijima-san but... something in her gratitude squashes the words at the back of his throat; and dark grey eyes, earnest as always, widen and stare while jaw snaps shut under the onslaught of affection ad validation and...

I’m proud to call you my friend.

... see, Tsutomu talks big, but at the end of the day? He knows of his own shortcomings.

He knows in that formative year they shared, he was never the most mature, the strongest, the most impassive guy there was - he knows he relied on Peach much more than he ever admitted, that he leaned on her support, drank her encouragements like water in a desert; that her compliments fueled not just his pride but any shred of self-confidence he may have had (and it wasn’t much, at the time, actually - or at least, it was fragile as glass).

Tsutomu never considered leaving the team. But... without her - he doesn’t even dare thinking whether he would have been able to remain on the starting roster, or if he would have let the pressure crush him.

Without her, he wouldn’t be where he is today... and pride and gratitude and admiration and affection burst a whole hole full of butterflies open in his chest.

Goshiki bows for her to reach his hair and kiss his cheek; and to hide the stupid tears rolling down his cheeks - dammit, how can he still be a crybaby at his age??

“Thank you, Boletusella-senpai.” Oh, of course his voice cracks and gives him away immediately. He may never really get to feel like a big brother, but -- of course he’ll look out for her, always, in whatever small, inconsequential ways he can; and he hopes that next year too, seeing her happy and smiling will be his actual birthday gift.

#soverina #(goshiki; interactions)#i have one whole baby eagle chick for peach u.u #THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE BDAY ASK IT WAS SO CUTE I CRIED AND SO DID HE #goshiki a whole baby who just wants to see the people he loves happy and healthy and thriving thank you very much

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

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I could do a scenario where reader loves to mess with megumi's hair, but suddenly she stops because she thinks she's bothering him.

The first time you notice how soft his hair is was when you were returning to school after a long mission.

You were riding in a car with the entire first-year gang. Nobara sat in the front seat next to Ijichi while you were placed in the back between Yuji and Megumi. The ride back was a long one. After an exhausting day of exorcising curses, you were all tired. Nobara and Yuji ended up falling asleep minutes into the ride, leaving Megumi to watch the sights passing through the window and you shyly trying to make conversation with him.

It's hard considering the strong crush you have on your fellow classmate. He was intelligent, kinder than he really let on, and fairly mature (at least compared to the people you’re usually around). His good looks were the cherry on top of the entire package. Everyone knew Megumi was a pretty boy and often teased him about it. He had fair skin, long, thick eyelashes, and your favorite being his dark hair. It looked so soft whenever your teacher would pat his head, flattening out the black tresses and ruffling them, much to Megumi’s chagrin. But you really wished you could feel as well.

You were the type of person to show your fondness for others through touch. Some people liked it, and some didn’t. For example, Yuji normally had no problem with you touching him, even welcomed it. You weren’t brave enough to ask someone like Megumi for the same sort of relationship, so you kept your hand to yourself when it came to him. At least until Megumi fell asleep, leaning against the car door for support. It’s then you saw your chance and carefully reached to touch one of the longer spikes.

The little black point wavered at your poking, lightly curling around your index finger as you swirled it around. You giggled to yourself about it. It’s thicker and fluffier than you imagined and also incredibly soft, proving Kugisaki’s theory about a ton of hairspray wrong.

Suddenly, a bump in the road cut your touching short, and you quickly jumped away when Megumi’s eyes began to flutter open.

Suspicious, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said calmly despite your heart thumping under his gaze, but he dropped his interrogation as you all pulled into the school’s parking lot.

That was three months ago.

Now, the two of you were dating, and you saw that as permission to continue your physical intimacy with your more introverted boyfriend.

“Good morning, guys,” you greet your classmates and teacher with a wave, saving your happier actions for Megumi as your hand immediately goes towards his head to ruffle his hair. You pull your hand away but not before letting your fingers clasp your favorite cowlick. Giving a gentle tug, you let it bounce back into place with a smile.

Megumi groans softly, his mouth pursed into a slight frown as he goes to fix his hair back into its normal disarray.

Gojo claps, bringing your attention towards him. “Well now that everyone’s here, let’s go shopping.”

With that, the five of you head to the shopping district despite the heat bearing down on the city. You spend about an hour walking around before deciding to take a break so Nobara and Gojo can catch their breath in the shade while you return some clothes you bought a few weeks earlier across the street. Megumi and Yuji go to buy all five of you drinks, but it isn’t long before you hear Yuji yelling from outside the store.

“Sensei! Kugisaki! Fushiguro is getting hit on! We have to protect (L/Name)’s relationship!”

Before you could even stop them, they’re already up and running in Fushiguro’s direction. Sighing, you grab your card from the store owner and run to catch up with your group.

When you arrive, Kugisaki and Itadori are already clinging to him and ranting something about being in love with him before Gojo saunters up in his best casual wear to challenge them. You have to stifle back a laugh as he goes on about music practice and homewrecking before the event ends with Megumi smacking Yuji in the head as Nobara and Gojo stalk off, defeated.

Hearing your laughter, Yuji cowers behind you with tearful chibi eyes. “Do you see that, (Name)? Fushiguro is so mean. I was only trying to help him and that's the treatment I get .”

“You didn’t help at all. You were nothing short of embarrassing.”

You giggle at the two before reaching out to your silently fuming boyfriend. “No need to be so grumpy, Megumi-kun, or did Gojo give you too much violin homework,” you sing out teasingly, earning a growl about how it isn’t funny as you playfully scramble his hairstyle.

“And that! Will you stop with that?” Megumi demands and forcefully shoves your hand away. “It’s so annoying. You don’t see me petting you all day like some damn pet.”

“Oh,” you say, stepping back from him in your shock. This is the first time Megumi has brought up how you chose to dote on him. Yes, he’d quietly grumble about it from time to time like most things, but he never yelled at you about how you chose to display your affection. You guess you never really realized how much it truly bothered him. Biting back the hurt in your voice, you apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Megumi grunts softly in response, and Yuji decides it’s probably best to ask Gojo to take you all home for today.

It isn’t long after that Megumi begins to notice your interactions with him starting to change. He apologized for yelling at you soon after the event, but you were still much less touchy with him even after accepting his apology.

Normally, you’d grab onto his hand without so much as asking or surprise him with kisses on his cheek. Now, you only hold his pinky from time to time and only if he asks. You also stop your go-to of rubbing his head when you’d greet him or playing with the ends of his hair when you were bored.

Megumi thought maybe something was bothering you, but then he noticed how you’d still laugh and joke around with Yuji and Nobara, your hand gripping onto their shoulder when they’d tell an extra funny joke or affectionately patting them on the back. That wasn’t the worst though. The worst was when you’d absentmindedly sweep Yuji’s hair back into place when it got messy from training. The jealousy it sparked in Megumi was the last straw that makes him decide to ask you what was wrong.

You’re surprised when he tugs on your sleeve, interrupting your conversation with Itadori and Kugisaki. “Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure,” you say, nodding off to Itadori and Kugisaki before following Megumi to the waterspouts outside. You both sat together on the brick square surrounding the structure. It’s a few quiet seconds of you staring at Megumi as he folds his hands in front of him and lazily taps his foot. Dark blue eyes stare at you before dropping back to the ground.

“Are you still mad at me for yelling at you the other week?”

You shake your head. “I told you it’s fine. I’m not mad at you about that.”

“Then, it’s something else,” he decides, and he desperately tries to rack his brain for what else he could have possibly done wrong, “I’m sure I didn’t forget your birthday or anything. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

Gasping, you deny his claim, “Of course I like you, why would you think I don’t?”

“Because you’re not so friendly with me anymore like the way you are with the others, so either you’re upset with me, or you don’t have the same feelings for me as you do with them.”

“It’s neither of those things. With Yuji and Nobara, they’re both sociable people, but you aren’t like them. You don’t like all that kind of stuff, and I don’t want to annoy you by doing things you don’t like.”

Megumi scowls at your confession, sighing because he remembers exactly why you must be talking like this so suddenly. He specifically called your touches annoying, and he inwardly curses at himself for it. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t like it…” he begins unsurely then pauses.

“Then, what?”

Megumi groans softly, an embarrassed heat starting to build in his cheeks as he quietly croaks out, “Feels good.”

“What’s that?” you ask, scooting closer so you can hear him better.

Megumi blushes lightly and cranks his head to look away from your cutely confused blinking. “It feels good when you do it,” he repeats robotically.

“When I do what?”

“When you play with my hair,” he hesitantly explains in more detail, “When Gojo does it, it’s aggravating, but I don't mind so much with you.”

Hesitantly, you ask, “So is it okay if I do it now?”

Megumi nods. “If you want.”

Cautiously, you lift your hand, pulling back in doubt a few times before ultimately sliding your fingers through his hair and rubbing. Megumi groans softly at your touch, and you realize that all those rushed noises of aggravation were actually him moaning from how light and comforting your touch was. You move your hand forward and backward some more, massaging his head until his head starts nodding and his eyes flutter a bit.

You giggle at him. “Are you falling asleep? You’re such a kid.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You laugh louder as he scoffs to hide his embarrassment.

“In that case, you can sleepover with me tonight, and we can do this if you want,” you offer sweetly, and Megumi glances at you, thinking it over. As your smile grows and your hand hits that sweet spot right at the nape of his neck, he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of falling asleep with you playing with his hair.

“I’d like that.”

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #look at me finally writing something sfw for him #i have like 5 wips that all revolve around this boy

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foxy-eva · 2 years

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26 Things | The Last Desire (Ch.4)

Previous Chapter

Series Summary: This is a 4-part series about Spencer Reid helping Reader check off everything left on her bucket list.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Summary (Chapter 4): Reader wasn’t completely honest about how many things were actually left on her list, but when Spencer finds out about the last aspiration, he couldn’t be happier.

Content Warnings (Chapter 4): (NSFW, 18+, minors DNI) mentions of aviophobia (fear of flying), mild dom/sub undertones (they switch), facesitting, handjob, fingering, blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Author’s note: This starts with 3.5k words of smut and I’m not sorry about it. They just wanted to keep going and who am I to stop them? Anyway, here’s the last chapter of my first series and I am so excited for it! I hope you enjoyed this little project. Let me know your thoughts!

Word count: 5.2k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Chapter 4 - The Last Desire

Shortly after we arrived in our hotel room I realized that I had learned three new things about my girlfriend in the last couple of hours.

It was the weekend before her birthday when I knocked on her door to surprise her with a weekend trip to Chicago. She was expecting us to go out to have a Chicago-style pizza at a restaurant in D.C., which would have been the next best thing to her goal to actually eat said food item in the city of its origin. However, I wasn’t satisfied with only giving her the next best thing. She thought I was joking when I told her to pack her bags because we had a plane to catch. It took her a couple of minutes to wrap her head around the fact that I had thought about everything, including a cat-sitter for Luna. My friend Penelope was very excited when I had told her about my plans and instantly agreed to take care of my girlfriend’s cat.

Even though I had planned everything in detail when it came to our trip, I wasn’t aware of one particular thing: my girlfriend has a fear of flying. That was the first of the three things I had learned about her today. I had already noticed her getting nervous when we drove to the airport, but she only told me about it when we were about to board the plane. She held my hand in a tight grip for the whole duration of the flight while I reassured her that we would be fine. She was uncommonly quiet for hours and I felt really bad for making her feel this way. I was so used to flying that I hadn’t even considered that this could be an issue.

“I am really sorry, I didn’t intend on making you feel this way,“ I told her when we finally got off the plane and I noticed her breathing rate getting back to normal.

She smiled at me when she said, “It’s okay Spencer. I know you meant well and you couldn’t have known about this. I just like to mentally prepare myself before getting on a plane. Your surprise really caught me off guard.” She kissed my cheek and leaned over to my ear before she whispered, “I know you will make up for it later.“ She winked at me when she pulled back again and I gave her a confused look, not really understanding her statement.

When we waited in the hotel lobby to get the key card for our room she seemed to have long forgotten her negative emotions from earlier. She was excited and cheerful to be here with me and had already thanked me 11 times for taking her to Chicago. I was really relieved then and didn’t dare to let go of her hand. Right after entering the elevator she smirked at me and said, “You know, hotel rooms always make me feel extra frisky.“ She backed me up against the wall, knocking the air out of my lungs and started to kiss me passionately until we reached the floor of our hotel room. Even then she wouldn’t immediately let go of me, I needed to gently push her away to be able to withdraw from her and leave the elevator. She ran over to our room and waited for me, instantly grabbing me by my shirt once I was in reach. She undid the first button before I could even hold the key card to the lock.

It was like she was leaving me clues to come to a conclusion about her plans. I only ever knew for sure what she was meaning to tell me when we entered our room and she had her hands all over me, kissing me with a fervor I hadn’t expected. That was the moment I realized the second of the three things I had learned about her today: she had a thing for hotel rooms. She seemed to be impatient to get us out of our clothes and was quick to undress the both of us. Her touches were getting more and more demanding every second passing and I had a hard time keeping up with the pace of her actions. This urgency was impossible to ignore. I was more than happy to follow her lead and felt my heart-rate accelerate when she told me to lay down on my back in the middle of the bed. She slowed down then, taking her time to get on the bed with me. She let her eyes wander over my body, smirking when they landed on my crotch. I felt heat rising up to my cheeks when she straddled my lap, grinding her core against my hardening length and leaning down to bite my lip. When I lifted my arms to touch her, she wrapped her hands around my wrists and put them back down on the mattress while smirking at me.

The way she quickly established dominance in our encounter led me to the third realization I had about her today: she was craving to be in control right now, which might have had something to do with the fact that she had spent two hours anxious on a plane because of me. I couldn’t complain though, I was ready to give into whatever she was longing for. Our dynamics in the bedroom tended to switch quite often but I had never experienced her as that determined before. It was exciting to say the least. She let go of my wrists and sat up to look at me. I wasn’t sure what she wanted and stared at her with raised eyebrows, waiting for her next move.

“So here’s the deal: you are going to make me come at least twice, one time for every hour I had to be on that plane,“ she explained.

We had gotten to know each other’s needs over the last few weeks and I had memorized her body’s reaction to each of my touches. I was keen on doing as she said, but when I reached out to put my hands on her breasts, she pinned my wrists back down again.

“No, not like that,“ she shook her head.

“Okay? How do you want it?“ I was genuinely wondering.

What she did next I had not expected. She moved up along my body, positioning her hips right above my face, one leg on each side of my head. I could feel the heat radiating from her core while she was hovering over me. I couldn’t move my eyes from in between her legs, she was already glistening and looking so ready to be tasted. I lifted my head to be able to reach her, but she grabbed my hair and yanked my head back down, making me whine in protest.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm but you need to listen to me before you get going. If you’re getting uncomfortable or you want to stop, I need you to tap my thigh twice. Do you understand?“

I looked up at her then, nodding and mumbling, “Yes, ma’am,“ right before wrapping my arms around her thighs to pull her down. I let my tongue glide through her folds and she instantly started to rock her hips against my mouth. I had a feeling that she had been getting herself worked up about her plans all the way from the airport to our hotel room because I didn’t have another explanation as to why she was already so wet. She kept one of her hands in my hair and grabbed the headboard of the bed with the other one for balance. I flicked my tongue over her clit and elicited a whimper from her throat. I could feel the muscles in her thighs twitch when I closed my mouth around the pearl of her core and started sucking gently. The heady flavor of her excitement clouded my mind, bringing out my most basic instincts.

“Fuck, Spencer, you’re doing so good,“ she praised me and I hummed in delight.

She ground her hips against my face at an accelerated pace and I could feel her arousal covering my chin. The way she was basically dripping on my skin made me feral and I pressed myself further into her, pleasuring her devotedly and relentlessly. She let out a sigh and tugged on my hair, encouraging me to keep going.

“When…when I saw your pretty face for the first time...,“ her sentence was interrupted by a loud moan ripping through her, followed by a curse. She continued shortly after, chuckling, “...I knew I had to sit on it someday.“

I was honestly surprised she was still able to form a coherent sentence since I knew she wasn’t far away from reaching her climax. After sleeping with her every few days in the past four weeks I knew all the indications of her impending orgasm. Her breathing got heavier when she tensed her thighs around my head while I started to suck more harshly. I tried to keep her steady with my arms around her thighs when she started to tremble. She was moving her hips in small circles, using my mouth to get all the friction she was yearning for. She finally reached her high with a whimper, her legs shaking and her hips rocking erratically. I helped her through her ecstasy, moving my tongue flat through her folds in consistent motions. She lifted her hips slightly to stop the stimulation while she leaned her forehead against the headboard, her chest heaving. She took a minute to even out her breathing and I took this opportunity to stare at her in awe. I had already been convinced that she would look incredible from any angle and I was right when I let my eyes roam over her body from my current position.

I let my hands glide over the soft skin of her thighs and hips in an attempt to ground her after her climax. I was about to remind her of her demand since I was still owing her another orgasm but she sank down on my face once more before I could say anything. I was excited to flick my tongue over the crest of her heat again when she flinched away from me and hissed, “Be gentle!“

I wasn’t aware of how sensitive she still was and adjusted my motions on the instant. I was eager to please her and gave her slow and delicate licks until she started to grind against me once more. She was still so wet, her arousal now being spread over the lower half of my face. I dared to close my lips around her clit again, sucking tentatively until whimpers and sighs were rolling from her mouth. She was quick to come undone a second time when I let my tongue flick over her swollen bundle of nerves. She groaned when she fell over the edge, reveling in the sensation of pure ecstasy and riding it out by moving her core over my face.

When she came down again, she moved away from my head and laid down beside me, curling her body into my side. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and wrapped my arm around her to keep her close. She propped herself up on one elbow to smile at me with weary eyes before she kissed me gently. I felt her fingertips dance over my body, brushing over my nipple, circling my belly button and wandering further down until they found my erection. She wrapped her hand around it and moved it up and down my length slowly. I couldn’t help but sigh into our kiss which made her tighten her grip. She let her thumb glide over the tip, spreading the natural lubrication that had gathered there. The taste of the remains of her arousal were still on my tongue when I deepened the kiss, willing to share it with her. I felt a moan escape my mouth when I involuntarily bucked my hips up into her hand. In that moment I wanted her more than anything. She pulled away from my lips to look at me, her pupils dilated, her desire clearly visible in her look.

“Could you take over? I need to feel you inside of me but I’m already a little exhausted,“ she purred.

“Are you telling me that you want me to be in control again?“ I teased.

She knew exactly that I was incapable of denying her anything when she begged for it, which is why she looked at me with a pout and cooed, “Yes, please.“

I sat up and told her to turn around to lie on her front and she instantly complied. I kneeled behind her and lifted her hips up to grant me better access. I gripped my cock and gave myself a few strokes before letting the tip glide through her wetness. She tilted her hips in an attempt to let me enter her, but I took a few more seconds to coat myself with her arousal. She didn’t expect it when I finally pressed into her, squirming underneath me while moaning out my name. Her body welcomed my intrusion enthusiastically, her walls clenching around my cock while still letting me glide into her without any resistance. I took a second to enjoy the feeling of being fully inside her before I started to move. Gripping her hips hard, I thrusted into her while letting my fingertips sink into her soft flesh. I wasn’t sure if I might leave her skin bruised, it wouldn’t be the first time anyway. I was more than okay to let the whole world know that she was mine and I knew she felt the same way.

She was praising me with her moans while I moved at an relentless pace. She tried to move her hips with me but couldn’t keep up, already being weary from the pleasure she received earlier. I leaned over her and caged her head with a hand on each side of it. She tilted her hips to adjust the angle and panted against the pillow. She let her hand glide over to mine, intertwining her fingers with mine. I slowed down to kiss her flushed cheek.

“Please don’t stop, I’m so close,“ she whimpered.

“You really love it when I fuck you like that, huh? Here you go, take it,“ I demanded while speeding up my movements again.

Being unified with her meant so much more to me than just the satisfaction of a primal need. It felt as if every fibre of me was connecting with her, our bodies building an alliance to guide both of us into pure bliss. Her body started to quiver and I felt her walls flutter around me when she came for a third time that evening. I only dared to slow down when I felt her relax again, a smile prominent on her face.

“Could you turn around again, please? I would like to look at you when I finish,“ I whispered into her ear before slipping out of her.

“Such a romantic,“ she giggled while lying on her back and spreading her legs for me.

I let my eyes wander over her body while not being able to fully fathom the fact that such an amazing woman as her would want to be with me. She was lying there splayed out and ready for me to do anything I wished with her. She reached out her hands and wrapped them around my waist, pulling me on top of her. I propped myself up on one forearm and reached between our bodies to let myself enter her once more. She hooked her legs around my hips, fully clinging onto me when I started to move again. She was looking at me with so much adoration, it made my heart swell. We moved slowly and in synch with each other, her core feeling tight and wet around my length. My face was hovering over hers and she giggled when one of my curls tickled her forehead. She brought both of her hands up to my face, putting one of them on my cheek and moving my hair back with the other one. I leaned into her touch and smiled at her before leaning down to put my lips on hers.

She ground her hips against me in tandem with my movements and I couldn’t shake the thought that it was her body’s way of demanding everything I had to offer. As if she was longing to be filled by my warmth and I was eager to fulfill her every wish. I was getting close when I started to kiss her more frantically, thrusting into her deep and hard. She pulled me even tighter into her embrace and I couldn’t stop the groans escaping my lips, chiming in to the symphony of the sounds of our joined bodies moving against each other. She moaned with me when I finally found my release, her body rocking against me, happily accepting everything I could give. I collapsed onto her then, burying my face in the crook of her neck, panting against her skin. She held me close while I tried to even out my breathing and my mind started to wander.

I felt the urge to tell her how I felt about her in that exact moment, but I was able to hold back for a little while longer. I was scared she wouldn’t appreciate a post-coital love confession and I wasn’t keen on ruining everything just yet. She inhaled and opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something but then decided against it. I lifted my head to look at her and for a split second I thought that maybe she wanted to say what I had been holding back for weeks now. She didn’t though, instead suggesting for us to go to the bathroom to clean up.

She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and I kneeled in front of her, wiping away my essence dripping from her core with a damp towel. When I was done I showered the insides of her thighs with little kisses, making her giggle and shying away from my touch. She let her hand run through my hair before she started speaking, “I really appreciate you taking me to Chicago. Thank you, really. You know I didn’t mean it when I said you had to make up for making me sit on a plane, right?”

“I know. But even if you did mean it, I was really happy to be of service,” I teased while placing a kiss on the apex of her thigh. She gently pushed my head away, got up and stepped into the shower, turning on the water.

“Now come here, I want to help you clean up too,” she said and I did as suggested.

We stood together under the shower head, letting the warm water run over our skin while our hands got busy caressing each other's bodies again. I leaned down so our mouths could share tender touches. She smiled against my lips and pulled away to smirk at me.

“You know, the last time we took a shower together I felt dirtier afterwards than before,” she laughed.

The memory of what she was hinting at travelled through my body like lighting, leaving an electrified sensation in every cell. My recollection of her on her knees in the shower, looking up at me doe-eyed with my cock in her mouth was clear as day. I could still feel her hair entangled in my fingers as I gripped it harshly to push her down my length until her throat was refusing any further intrusion. I snapped back into the present when I sensed her body lowering onto the tile floor the same way she did that day. I grabbed her arms to stop her before her knees made contact with the ground, getting her back into a standing position.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can go again just yet,” I let her know while spinning her around to press my front into her back.

I let my hands roam over the curves of her body, brushing over her nipples, squeezing her breasts before coming to a halt just under her belly button. She leaned her head back onto my shoulder, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. I lowered my face to her ear and whispered, “However, I’d be glad to help you out.”

She contemplated my offer for a second before nodding. I let one of my hands glide between her legs while the other one stayed on her tummy, securing her position to keep her body close to me. She moved one of her legs slightly to the side to grant me better access. My fingers parted her folds, exploring the way she would react to my touch. She let out a tiny whimper when I tentatively pressed on her clit and started to move in small circles. She was sensitive and swollen from our earlier activities and I tried my best not to overstimulate her. Her breathing got heavier as I continued my motions, wetness quickly pooling at her entrance again. When I dipped one finger into her, her knees bent and I had to hold tighter onto her to keep her upright. I added another digit and started to slowly thrust into her while pressing the heel of my palm against her bundle of nerves. She clenched around me, surprising me with how quickly she started to tremble under my ministrations. It didn’t take long for a moan to escape her lips right before I felt her walls pulsating against my fingers. She came down with a sigh as I held onto her until she took my hand to remove it from her core.

“I think you should take me on weekend-trips more often,” she giggled before proceeding with the shower.

I took the shampoo and dispensed it in her hair, massaging her scalp when I told her, “Oh I definitely will.”

We got ready to go out right after our shower since I had made dinner reservations at the restaurant with the presumed best deep dish pizza in Chicago. Even though I told her that this place was not particularly fancy, she still insisted on wearing a dress I had never seen on her. It was hugging her figure in all the right places and I couldn’t keep my hands off her when she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror to do her make-up. I let my palms glide over the soft fabric, making her twitch when I brushed over her sides.

“Stop it, Spencer. I’m really trying not to smudge mascara all over my face,” she laughed.

“I can’t help it when you’re looking like that! This dress just looks so beautiful on you and you know that purple is my favorite color. How am I supposed to hold back?” I whined.

“I just got dressed and I won’t take it off anytime soon, I’m sorry,” she explained while leaning over the sink to get a closer look at her eyelashes.

I grabbed the hem of the dress and brought the fabric up over her hips in one swift motion, pressing the growing bulge in my pants against her backside. I met her baffled look in the mirror, smirking at her. She had to put one of her hands down on the sink to not fall over when I leaned over her body and chuckled, “There is no need to take it off, you know.” She moved her body into a standing position, pushing me back again and implicitly declining my proposal. I let go of her instantly, not wanting to pressure her into doing anything she wasn’t up to. “Maybe after dinner,” she suggested before continuing with her make-up.

When we made it to our table at the restaurant, we had to laugh about being dramatically overdressed. Even though I am not the most confident person when it comes to my own looks, I still told her that we were the hottest couple in here just to make her laugh some more.

“It’s a good thing you brought the purple tie with you, it matches my dress perfectly,” she remarked before taking a look at the menu.

When we placed our orders she was a little disappointed that I did not plan on eating pizza myself. I just didn’t want to ruin the rest of our night by being bothered by my sensitivity to dairy. When the waiter brought the food to our table, she squeaked in excitement and took a couple of photos with her phone to document this moment. I watched her intently when she took the first bite.

“And?” I wanted to know.

“You know… It’s fine I guess?” she answered while shrugging.

I laughed at her statement and told her that she might have just offended an entire city. When we were done with dinner we ordered another round of drinks and I finally managed to ask her what I had been wondering for weeks now.

“So now that you are done with everything I would really like to know about the other things on your bucket list.”

She took a piece of paper out of her purse, unfolded it and held it in front of her face, not allowing me to take a glimpse at it. She cleared her throat in an overly-dramatic manner before she started to speak.

“Okay so you know about the first one, it’s dancing in the rain. It’s followed by two of the more explicit things: having a one-night-stand and being able to have multiple orgasms,” she paused to smirk at me before continuing, “I got those two done before turning 21 if you’re wondering. Next we have: getting a tattoo, watching all of the Star Wars movies, writing at least 30 poems and attending a poetry slam.”

“Not so fast,” I interrupted her. I knew about her tattoo - a tiny cloverleaf behind her ear - but I had never heard about her poetry which is why I asked, “You write poems?”

“Not anymore. They were really bad and I embarrassed myself at that poetry slam when I was in college,” she explained.

“I bet that’s not true. I would like to read them sometime,” I sincerely told her.

“Give me four more drinks and I will write a shitty poem for you if you want me to,” she laughed before continuing with her list. I knew it was a joke but I would have loved nothing more than being the person she wrote poetry for.

“The next thing is a little vague and I don’t want to elaborate further: forgiving your mother. Then we have getting a cat - you have met Luna - and watching a sunset and staying up long enough to watch the sunrise the next morning. Number 11 - having sex in public,” she paused to look up from her list and wink at me, “you were there for that one.”

I felt my cheeks flush and needed to clear my throat before I told her, “Yes, I remember.”

She continued, “Going on a yoga retreat - which I hated by the way. Yoga is not for me, I am not that flexible.”

“Well…,” I wanted to insinuate something but before I could she kicked my shin under the table and kept reading. “Number 13: petting an alpaca. Those animals are just the cutest and fluffiest things anyone can imagine,” she paused to smile at me.

“Do you remember when I told you about my alternative universe where I am a cowboy?” I was wondering. She giggled and nodded. “If I ever end up buying a farm, I will get you an entire alpaca flock if you want.” She laughed and I am sure she thought I was joking but that’s exactly what I would have done without hesitation if she ever asked me to. Anything to make her happy.

“Maybe one day,” she said and I noticed a sparkle in her eyes. “So the next one on here you know as well, just like number 21.”

“Skinny dipping and seeing a shooting star, yes,” I agreed.

“Okay, then we have watching an opera and eating a deep dish pizza in Chicago - check!” She took a pencil out of her purse and put the list down for a moment to cross it off. Instead of taking a glimpse at the paper I decided to study her facial expressions. She smiled brightly and I could clearly see the excitement in her look.

“Number 17: working as an extra in a movie,” she went on.

“You did? That’s impressive!” I was honestly surprised.

“I know, right? You’re basically dating a celebrity. I mean it was a short film my college roommate made for one of her classes but it still counts!”

Her statement made both of us laugh. She took a sip from her drink before focussing back on the paper in her hands.

“So then we have attending a pride march, dyeing your hair, knitting a sweater and being able to change a car tire. My dad taught me that one.”

“What about the knitted sweater?” I wanted to know.

“It was for my friend’s 2-year-old daughter. I don’t think I have the patience nor the talent to actually knit one for an adult. Still counts though!” She paused to look for a sign of approval in my face and I nodded. “When I went to China to visit my cousin who did a semester abroad there I was able to cross off number 23: Going to a country you need a visa for. I basically spent a day on a plane and it was the worst experience of my life. Anyway, the next thing is donating blood and last but not least we have making it through a day without electricity. Camping in the woods, also an experience I never want to relive,” she laughed.

I was confused and raised my eyebrows at her. She knew how my mind worked so there was no way she wasn’t aware that I would notice. She met my eyes when she lowered the list and shrugged.

“That’s only 25 things,” I remarked.

“Yeah I know. I haven’t been completely honest with you when I told you that there was only one thing left. There was actually still something missing but I didn’t want to freak you out,” she explained.

I reached over the table to touch her arm when I told her, “I am not that easy to freak out, actually.”

She shook her head and said, “I wasn’t sure about telling you this the last time we talked about my list. I could have easily checked off the last thing on here in the past four weeks. It just felt weird not talking to you about it first.”

She smiled at me, put her list on the table and took the pencil again. I was still very confused about what she was talking about until I followed the movement of her pencil with my eyes. My heart skipped a beat right before accelerating, heat rising to my cheeks.

There it was, written down in her unique handwriting and being crossed off right this second.

Taglist: @spencers-dria

26. Falling in love

Let me know if you want to be added

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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outerbankies · 3 years

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new light part 11: just one night — rafe cameron

new light masterlist

summary: rafe finally gives his father the ultimatum he’s been sitting on for months; you immediately, if unknowingly, show him that it was one hundred percent worth it.

pairing: rafe x reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, suggestive content/very VERY light smut not sure if u can even call it that but minors dni thanks

a/n: holy shit hiiiii!!! thanks for waiting on this one, and thanks to my moots who talked it through with me <3 alright, there will officially be 12 parts of new light, followed by an epilogue. so just one more after this! buckle up, enjoy, come talk to me afterrr

my writing

but if you give me just one night

Rafe gets one more kiss on the cheek from you before you leave him for the night. He’s walking you to your front door like he normally would, making sure you and your dog get inside safely, not turning and walking back to his truck until he hears you deadbolt the door. It’s the same but so different—nostalgic but still new again at the same time. It’s almost like the beginning of your relationship when you were getting to know each other all over again, becoming used to each other in a different way.

And it’s this weird place in between being back to what you once were, and hopefully carving out another new part of this relationship. Rafe couldn’t explain it if he tried—you had barely assured him at all verbally, but he almost feels like laughing once he gets back inside his truck, cheeks flushed from the cold and from you, smiling the whole way home, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he just breathes.

He realizes halfway home he has to circle back to the grocery store, where he’d completely abandoned his original plans once he ran into you, and you both literally dropped everything. He’s thankful for the sweatshirt and hat combination he’s sporting, not keen to interact with anyone he’d recognize that might ask him why he’s smiling the way he is.

“Sorry Wheez,” he apologizes upon his arrival at home, ruffling his youngest sister’s hair as he greets her in the kitchen. He tosses the box of hot chocolate packets she’d requested onto the counter, leaning up against it. “Got a little caught up.”

She looks up from her phone, considering him skeptically. “For over an hour?”

Rafe just shrugs. “Busy. It’s Thanksgiving this week, y’know. Lot of people buying a lot of food and… whatever.”

“Okay. Whatever. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Rafe nods absent-mindedly, mind already miles away from the kitchen in which he stood.

The adrenaline of seeing you, getting to touch you and hold you again, was quickly shedding off of him in waves, shattering, cracking, and peeling until he’s barely anything more than an anxious mess with nothing to do but wait for you to be ready. Which he could do, he reminds himself.

“I’ll have one too, sweetie.”

His father’s voice immediately sets Rafe’s spine straight as a board, thoughts of you clearing and eyes shifting to the man standing in the entryway of the kitchen. Rafe doesn’t say anything in greeting, just nodding before glancing to the other end of the kitchen, ready to make his exit if—when—he needs to.

“Okay, so three mugs,” Wheezie murmurs, busying herself with pulling things out of the cabinets.

Things were always tense between Rafe and his dad, he can’t remember one moment recently where they hadn’t been—actually. But ever since his birthday, things had only been worse. You hung up on him and his hands shook with his next moves, typing in his dad’s contact to have the conversation he should’ve demanded months ago.

“Rafe, did you check in with Ezra like I asked?” Ward asks, the smile reserved for his sisters slipping off of his face in an instant once he addresses his son.

“Yes, sir. We wrapped up today for the holiday weekend.”

“You’re not working at all tomorrow?” Ward asks, looking surprised.

“No,” Rafe says, eyebrows furrowed, nerves coming to the surface. “Ezra said he cleared it with you, that the financial team was done today, ’til next Monday.”

“Huh,” Ward says in consideration. “Alright. If you feel like you’ve earned that.”

Rafe can feel Wheezie looking at the two of them, knows she’s picked up on the tone shift just like he has. Rafe almost sighs, concedes to logging some hours tomorrow. But then he thinks about you, what he told you, promised you. And himself. “I do. My department’s off tomorrow, dad. So I am too.”

But as much as he hates it sometimes, Rafe is his father’s son, because Ward doesn’t back down either. “Let me guess. Big plans with Y/n? Kelce’s dad told me about his uh—party?”

“It’s a bar crawl.”

“You’re taking Y/n to the bars?” he asks, sounding as if he’s barely holding back a laugh. Rafe doesn’t feel the same inclination to throw something at him like he would have a few months ago whenever his dad so much as mentioned your name, but it’s not exactly a terrible thing that there’s nothing within his immediate reach right now.

“Dad,” he warns, shooting him a look.

“Just seems a bit… beneath her.”

Rafe immediately heads for the doorway in which his father came, not stopping to look for confirmation. “I’ll meet you out on the deck.”

His father gives him about five minutes to pace the deck in contemplation, before appearing with a freshly poured finger of whiskey, one hand tucked into his pocket and an exasperated look on his face. “What now?”

“What now—dad,” Rafe starts, doing his best not to slip into son mode. He knows his father will be more receptive if Rafe treats this like business. He briefly contemplates an alternate reality, where he’s actively seeking out his father for advice on how to treat you right, not working overtime to protect you from him instead. But that’s a false reality his father had been chipping away at for years, until it was staring Rafe in the face over the summer. “I thought we understood each other, when we talked on my birthday?”

“Your birthday?” Ward asks, swirling his glass. “Ah, you mean when you called me after I sent you a nice bottle of champagne to berate me for looking out for you?”

“Look—looking out for me?”

“I’m just trying to get you to be realistic about this girl, son. She’s distracting you, and she doesn’t care how hard you work—”

“No. Stop,” Rafe says, willing his voice not to waver from the sheer frustration thrumming under his skin. “I told you to back off of her.”

“Huh,” Ward says, glint in his eye. “And yet I can’t seem to figure out why. Because it seems to be the consensus around town that you two aren’t really an item anymore.”

Rafe doesn’t let himself freeze, show any sign of trepidation or give any indication that he’d been caught out. He knew this was a possibility, your hometown was way too small sometimes. This self-preserving lie he’d kept up for so long—half out of his own assuredness you’d somehow find your way back to him, half out of the fear of the told-you-so look on his dad’s face, the one he’s getting right now—he knew it’d only stick for so long before he was found out. He feels his jaw twitch, but that’s all he gives before clearing his throat. “Yeah, well. Check your sources, then—just dropped her off.”

His father’s eyebrows unceremoniously shoot into his hairline, and Rafe feels the slightest sense of victory. “Really?”

“Really. But you know what? That wouldn’t even matter, dad,” he says. “I don’t care what happens—you can’t talk about her like that. Not in front of anyone, and not in front of me.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, son,” Ward says around a chuckle, bringing his drink to his lips again.

And then there’s this ugly, dark pit that had been settled in Rafe’s stomach since his sophomore year of college, when his father made him come home to work for him for the first time. And not just the minor tasks he’d been picking up since he was fifteen, or the ride alongs to construction sites he’d always loved as a kid. The first time he’d really had to work for his dad, be his son and his employee simultaneously. The first glimpse into what he’d always thought would be the rest of his life—what he’d warned you about that night on your roof when he asked you to be his. And he’d pushed the feeling about it down for as long as he could, ignoring the anxiety it’d cause him, the pure exhaustion and anguish it often left him with to work for his father.

Until he couldn’t anymore, on the night John B had pulled him aside at that stupid party to ask about you and Ward. When things had already been off between you two for weeks, and he could come up with no good reason as to why. Then you’d looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes, wobbling lips and shaking voice repeating the words his father said to you. Everything clicked into place when he realized you’d internalized it, had been carrying those words around in your heart and in your head for weeks until you weren’t looking at Rafe the same way anymore, the way he’d finally gotten you to see him after all these years.

This is the first time he’s going to ever verbalize it, but this feeling had been pressing down on Rafe for years.

“You’re right,” Rafe says. “I can’t. All I can do is make it clear to you that this is a deal-breaker for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, “She’s here to stay, alright? And I refuse to put her through the wringer with you. She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s so fucking good for me, and just so much more than think you she is—she’s the love of my life, dad. And I can’t be involved in the business like this if it’s hurting her. I actually won’t.”

“Won’t what?” Ward asks, looking thoroughly confused at this point.

“Work for you, dad,” Rafe finally admits, wishing he’d grabbed a whiskey too at this point. “She’s—Dad, that girl is everything to me, she always has been.”

“You’d quit the business for her?”

“If I had to put distance between the two of us, I would. And that’s the only way I can think to do it.” Rafe has to take a long breath to quell the tightness in his throat, staring up at the sky and blinking rapidly a few times before speaking again. “Not like there’s much else to our relationship.”

“Rafe, bud—”

“I love her, dad. And if you can’t respect that—well, I guess I should polish up my cover letter, shouldn’t I?”

Rafe swears he sees hurt flash across his father’s face, but it’s hardly an emotion he’s ever seen in him before, so he can’t be sure. And he’s straightening himself out and taking another pull of whiskey, steeling himself before Rafe can even get a read anyways. “Okay. And where will you go?”

“I have options,” Rafe says. This wasn’t how he expected this to go at all, and maybe the slightest glimmer of hope you’d given him at the pool, the tiniest way you’d let your guard down—just like he’d seen you do the first time at the start of the summer—maybe that’s what gives him the push. He thinks about the internships he’d withheld from his dad over the past few years, the resume he’d built, contacts in a network he’d made all on his own. Because maybe in the back of his mind he’d always known it’d end like this. Fuck, he’d even finally accept Beau’s LinkedIn request if he had to—because he knew he deserved better than this, and so did you. “Plenty.”

“This is exactly what I was afraid of, Rafe,” Ward sighs, pinching his brow in anguish. If Rafe hadn’t spent years and years trying to prove himself to this man, only to be met with empty praises or unimpressed write-offs, he might have it in him to be affected by the disappointment. “She’s pulling you away.”

“No,” Rafe says, voice raising in anger. “No, that was all you. Okay? Maybe she gave me a reason. But it’s always been like this between us—you can’t even try to deny that.”

Ward sighs again, polishing off the rest of his glass. “She must be some girl, Rafe.”

Rafe grunts in frustration. “Dad—don’t you like, with Rose? Wouldn’t you protect her from anything you had to?”

“Your little high school sweetheart is hardly comparable to my wife—your stepmother.”

“Maybe to you. But shouldn’t the fact I’m willing to go to these lengths… that should tell you something, dad. And if it doesn’t, I’m not sure what else we have to talk about.”

Rafe leaves his dad’s frozen figure on the deck then, waving his little sister off when she asks about the hot cocoa and taking the stairs to his room two steps at a time, trying not to think about what he just did.

—

mccall: ok everyone is wondering so i’m just gonna ask. have you talked to redacted

davis: i think what this bitch MEANT to ask was how are u doing bb!? how’s home!!!

delilah: no but like… wren is asking too

y/n: he just dropped me off

The group FaceTime call commences in seconds, much to your chagrin—although what could you have expected at this point? Your friends had absorbed Rafe into their orbit within minutes of meeting him, even if it took McCall a few shots to warm up, she came around too once she got to know him. Just how everyone always did around him.

“Hey,” Delilah says, her voice breaking through the mess of log-on sounds and cut off conversations first. She gives you a sympathetic smile. “How are you, Y/n/n?”

“No, don’t answer that yet,” McCall says, voice cutting through before she’s turning back to someone off-screen. “Give me a sec. Mom, it’s my friends. Ex-boyfriend stuff, very important.”

Wren peeks into Delilah’s frame then, readjusting his hair and then waving at the camera. “Hey, Y/n. What’s going on down south?”

You’re rushing to shut your door, glaring at Dylan’s disappointed look aimed at you from across the hall, turning on your fairy lights. “Not much, um. Kinda late here.”

“Okay, I’m here,” Davis announces, his line finally connecting too. “What did I miss?”

“No—wait,” McCall urges. “Cyrus, get the fuck out or I swear—okay. Okay, I’m ready. What did he do?”

“Who? Hometown?” Wren pipes up. “Y’all back together?”

“Oh my god, Wren,” Delilah sighs, giving you an apologetic look. “Babe, please go refill our drinks, yeah? I’ll catch you up after.”

“But—”

“Please.”

“Okay,” Davis starts, blotting a serum into his face once Wren walks off. “Everyone should just shut the fuck up. Let her speak, then we judge later. You saw Rafe?”

“Yeah, on accident,” you emphasize, looking at McCall’s little FaceTime square, her unimpressed expression doing nothing to put you at ease. “I swear, we just ran into each other. There aren't many places to be on this island, alright?”

“Okay, and then what? Wait—did you guys hook up? Did you yell at him, or—”

“McCall,” Davis warns, eyes straying away from his mirror to shoot her a look through the phone.

Delilah is the first one to pick up on your distress, shushing the others. “Hey, so what happened? Was it good?”

“We didn’t—we just talked,” you say. A smile pulls on your lips despite yourself. “Actually, it was nice. He took me to the pool.”

“Ah, good one,” Wren says, appearing in the frame once again, head burrowing into Delilah’s shoulder after he presses a kiss to her head.

“Not gonna lie, have to agree with Wren here,” Davis concedes, hand over his mouth as he grins. “That’s cute.”

“No, stop, you’re all way too romantic. It’s literally so fucking hard being the only earth sign in this friend group,” McCall sighs. “Focus, Y/n. What did he say?”

“Oh, god,” you sigh, falling back onto your bed finally. “Like—everything. We talked about everything. And I didn’t just—guys, you know I wouldn’t just let him off.”

“McCall made sure of that,” Davis grumbles.

“Excuse you.”

“Excuse you, I live there too. I had to listen to every single lecture,” Davis says, readjusting his skincare headband. “Every fucking one.”

You’d tuned the lectures out at a certain point, exchanging listening to McCall’s opinions about the terrors of long-distance and hometown boyfriends for your own fantasies about you and Rafe getting back together. You loved her, and she meant well—but she was scarred, and it definitely affected her judgment. Against her will, too, because you knew she liked Rafe deep down. Very deep down, in a place usually only unearthed by alcohol. “Alright. Guys, I appreciated this Socratic seminar. I think I’m just gonna sleep on it.”

“No, wait—we could put it to a vote,” Delilah says. “Two votes for Rafe.”

She doesn’t even glance at Wren when she says it, who just nods his head and brings his beer to his lips all the same.

“You guys,” you groan. “Come on.”

“Do I get a vote?”

“No, McCall. Because we all know what it is and you still won’t win,” Davis says.

“Alright, go easy on her guys. Make good choices. Good night, Y/n/n,” Wren says, making the decision for everyone else to leave you alone. He ducks out of the frame again after a wave.

“I’ll be off too, my sweet. You got this,” Delilah says, waving. “Text us!”

When it’s just your roommates left, an awkward silence drags until Davis clears his throat. “McCall, hang up.”

“What!” she squawks, mouth falling open in indignation. “I’m being helpful.”

“Nope.”

“Y/n,” she tries, directing her words toward you now. “You know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, and thank you, really,” you say. “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“Ugh, fine. Bye uglies,” she says, resigned as she hangs up.

“Talk to me,” Davis says when the two of you are finally, blessedly alone. “What are we thinking?”

You suck in a breath before you unload. “Davis, it was… like. I literally had to physically make myself walk away before I just jumped all over him, or—”

“Okay, that’s not necessarily bad, Y/n.”

“I know, it just means I trust him,” you admit, because it’s true. “I don’t know, though. It was weird—I just felt like I needed to give myself some time?”

Davis nods, squinting in consideration. “I think it’s good that you’re thinking it through. Your man is nothing if not charming—”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m kidding,” Davis concedes. “But also not. The pool? Come on. But look, he’s great, Y/n—you know I like him for you. And if you trust him, then I trust you. Even so, there’s still nothing wrong with taking some time. Maybe a few weeks while you guys finish out the semester?”

“Weeks?” you squeak, head rearing back from the screen.

“Okay, sorry,” he laughs. “Alright. What about at least a few days? After the holiday.”

“Days… plural. Yeah,” you nod, convincing yourself. “I guess I can think about that.”

“You don’t have to take any more time than you need to, you know that, right?” he says, voice softer. “You’re not an emotional thinker, Y/n. Trust your judgment.”

“I know,” you breathe, thinking of the way you’d felt seeing him. Everything had felt like it clicked into place immediately, but you had made him prove it to you anyways. And he had, ten times over. “I know.”

“But hey, what about the other stuff?”

“What do you mean?”

“You had some regrets too, didn’t you? I know you were beating yourself up over the thing with his dad. And the baby. Maybe you’ll feel better about all this if you tell him about that?” Davis says, lighting a candle in frame.

“Yeah, we talked about that too,” you confirm, nodding your head. “I think we’re okay there. He’s shit at accepting apologies, but—”

“Of course he is, he’s a man.”

“But, I think I got my point across. I hope I did.”

“Then what, my dear,” Davis says dramatically, finally finishing up his routine and giving you his full attention. “Are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” you groan.

“You’ll know when you’re done waiting,” he assures you. “It’ll feel right.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Davis sighs, smiling softly at you. “You’re not going to sleep at all tonight, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you agree. “I just wanna see him.”

“Go see him tomorrow,” Davis says.

You just look at him, smiling slightly. “I think I’ll be able to wait that long.”

“Bitch, you don’t even have to do that!” Davis says, clapping his hands. “There are no rules here—chug some chard and show up on his doorstep right now. It’ll be dramatic, and so, so romantic.”

You let yourself briefly consider it, shaking yourself out of it immediately after. “No, I—no. I’m too nervous. What am I even gonna say?”

“Okay, let me get some wine and then you can practice on me tonight. Grab a notepad.”

—

You’ve been sitting on the back deck since sunrise—maybe even a little before. It’s all a blur at this point, the sleep you got and didn’t get, the numerous scenarios you talked through with Davis until you couldn’t stand it anymore, the physical ache your body feels knowing Rafe is within your reach just down the road, all you wanted since August, and you’re not even being held by him.

The skyline of the town you grew up in, beautiful and familiar as it is, isn’t enough to distract you from your thoughts; if you overthought it, if you’re making him wait too long, if the way you feel like Rafe’s an ocean whose tide has always been pulling you in should scare you. Or if you should just run into it, arms and heart open, let him crash over you in waves.

“You’re up early,” your dad says from behind you, two mugs of coffee in hand. You shake your head and smile as you accept one from him, shaky hands settling around the warm ceramic as you bring it to rest in your lap.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I know,” your dad chuckles. “Heard you stomping around all night. Thought Rafe might have been scaling the wall again.”

“That was one time,” you say around a smile. Rafe still has no idea your dad knew he was sneaking into the house all summer, and couldn’t care less considering he liked Rafe and you were both grown. Your dad had texted you the security camera footage the very next morning: ‘Might wanna tell your boyfriend if he isn’t going to hide his gigantic truck down the block anymore, he may as well start using the front door, too.’ You never shared it with Rafe because you knew he’d quite literally never come over again, and you were a teeny bit selfish.

Your heart sinks a little at the specific memory, Rafe showing up in the middle of the night. So worried about you—seeking your reassurances when you were the one that had been holding back. The first time your relationship was tested, and all it took to iron it out was you being openly vulnerable with your feelings for him.

You have to sideline the memory to give your dad your full attention—or as much of it as you can muster. “But I did see him yesterday, at the store.”

Your dad looks over from where he’d settled into a deck chair next to you. “Did you? That explains the stomping. And the fact that you came home with nothing.”

Your cheeks heat up, realizing for the first time he was right. You might have bid Rafe a good night quick enough that your family (sans Dylan, who texted you immediately to ask if that was Rafe’s truck he heard outside) didn’t see him on the porch, but you guess your dad was more attentive than you thought. “Yeah.”

“What’d you think? Need me to straighten him out for you?”

You roll your eyes, finally bringing your coffee up for a sip. You figure you can’t get any more nerve-y at this point, and you could use the extra energy as you tried to plan the rest of your day. “No, dad. It’s not like that.”

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” he says, a hand patting your forearm gingerly where it rests on the chair arm. “I know it’s not.”

“He’s not—he loves me, dad. I know he does,” you sigh, eyes welling up. “I don’t know why I’m holding back.”

“You’re protecting yourself. Maybe a little too much.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking over at him. “Is that bad?”

“Not all the time,” he says, drinking his own coffee. “I’d rather you be too careful than not enough.”

Too careful. It’s something that you’d always been in so many different ways, but especially when it came to boys and love—when it came to Rafe Cameron.

It started with completely ignoring him whenever you couldn’t hide your feelings around him as a young teenager, no longer talking whenever he’d join a group, sitting as far away from him as possible in whatever classes you shared—even though you’d somehow always get paired up anyways. And it evolved into this practiced indifference that came across as disinterest once you two got older, once Rafe seemed to discover girls and you boys, but never each other. Even though you always knew. Even though you couldn’t help the times you slipped up around him, looked at him too long or pushed a “just friends” boundary too far, and could now look back and recognize the moments when he couldn’t either. These random moments of longing that never amounted to anything, and then you ran far, far away from him.

But the distance and the lessened communication that came with college did nothing to help you shake him. Just like Rafe, you were always prying for information from your friends, or seeking him out at house parties during spring breaks, even if just to exchange greetings and a quick hug. It was just years of hiding, pining, running—until you couldn’t run anymore, until you didn’t want to.

And you realize, you still don’t. And you’ll never want to again.

“Okay,” you say, standing abruptly, handing your coffee off to your dad. He smiles up at you. “I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is this you’re going?” your mom says, making her way out to the patio as well, looking far too put together for this early in the morning. “Will you be back by lunch? You said you’d be home to help before tomorrow, remember? Speaking of—did you invite Rafe?”

“I’m going to see him,” you say, barely paying attention to your mom’s rambles until you hear his name. “Right now, actually.”

“Y/n,” your mother says, sounding slightly scandalized, taking in your attire. “Well not like that you’re not. At least run a brush through your hair, or put on a dress, sweetie—”

But you don’t care, can barely hear her, your messy hair and old embroidered college sweatshirt a mere afterthought as you made your way back into the house in search of your car keys.

“Relax, honey,” you hear your dad reassure her. “Rafe won’t care.”

—

If you could focus on anything besides how nervous you were, you might be the slightest bit regretful you hadn’t taken your mom’s advice. It was a rough night, and you could see it in your face as you sat parked outside of Tannyhill, the driving visor in your Range Rover flipped down so you could take in your appearance. Your best bet is to at least throw on some backup perfume and cherry chapstick from your center console, which you still don’t even do, forcing yourself out of the car as soon as you clock only Sarah and Rafe’s cars parked in the driveway. You really didn’t mind seeing Rose most of the time, but seeing Ward’s SUV in the driveway on the rare occasions Rafe would invite you over to Tannyhill was always enough to put you on edge, so you’re thankful when they’re nowhere to be found even at the early hour.

It’s not until you’re walking up the path to the front door that it dawns on you your realization moment had come nearly at the crack of dawn, the sun higher in the sky at this point but still low enough to paint it hues of pink and blue.

“Y/n?”

Your second thoughts about the early hour dispel at the sound of Sarah’s voice, and you’re waving at her lamely as she looks at you in disbelief. Ah, so Rafe had told her. “Hey, Sarah.”

“Uh, hey,” she says, breaking into a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Rafe’s home, right?”

“Yeah, he’s home. Think he’s swimming though,” she says, making your eyes widen. “Don’t worry, inside. And Wheezie went to work with Rose.”

“Ah,” you say, nodding in understanding. You rock back onto the balls of your feet a bit awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you. “So, uh—how’s school? Did you end up rushing?”

“No,” she says, smiling. “My friend, Kie—she has this whole thing. Apparently sororities can be, like, wildly unethical?”

You nod, feeling yourself relax a little at the menial conversation. Sarah had always been great at talking your ear off whenever you came around, not that you minded. You always saw the effort Rafe put into connecting with Dylan, and you had no problem doing the same. “Well, I hope you’re still having fun.”

“Yeah,” she says, adjusting her bag in her arms, still smiling at you. “Are you here to like, talk to him… or—”

Sarah’s mischievous prying is thankfully cut off when the crunch of gravel distracts you both, signaling another vehicle pulling up in the driveway—the most disgusting brown van you’ve ever seen in your life.

Your unlikely partner in crime is waving from the driver’s seat to Sarah. But then John B sees you and he just points, a huge smile on his face. You have to refrain from laughing in disbelief, just smiling and pointing right back at him before you finally turn and make your way inside the house, patting a confused Sarah on the shoulder as you pass her by. “Have fun!”

The house is practically dead silent when you enter, the echo of the sound of the door clicking shut bouncing off of the walls.

The drive here and the walk-up was all fueled by pure adrenaline, surprise, fumes, sleep deprivation—who knows. Pretty much anything but the courage you actually needed.

Now you stand in Rafe’s foyer, only your insecurities standing between you and what you wanted. You blackout on the walk down the hall to the Camerons’ indoor pool—hardly the Olympic size Rafe was used to at Kildare Academy, but he said it did the job. If he wasn’t swimming in it during off-season, he was sneaking you and a group of friends in when his dad was out of town in high school—more often than not ignoring anyone else in the vicinity while he hovered around you.

But with so much time spent away you realize you no longer immediately associate Rafe’s home with the high school days—those memories replaced by the last summer you spent here. Intimidating dinners with his family, the random glass of wine with Rose every now and then, hangs with Kelce and Topper in the pool house, the times you’d crouched over the dining room table to help Wheezie with her practice SAT essays.

Rafe sneaking you upstairs to his room whenever he could, leading you out to the Druthers with a smile on his face, or the two of you quietly slipping down to the cellar near the basement to grab a bottle of wine before you went to sit on the porch swing and watch the sunset together. This version of Rafe that used to seem new, but was in actuality all too familiar.

You roll your neck and take one last shaky breath before you’re sliding the door to the pool room open.

He’s sitting on the side of the pool when you enter, chest heaving like he’d just finished a few laps, looking down at where his legs rest in the water. His hair is a wet mess, his goggles pulled up to his forehead. Rafe must not hear the door, because he makes no immediate move, stuck staring into the turquoise water until you clear your throat.

“Y/n/n?”

You’re both frozen for a second, until you speak again, realizing he was waiting for you to respond. “Rafe, hi.”

“W-what are you doing here?” he asks, his facial features slipping into worry once he assesses yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you—” you gesture wildly to where he’s still in the pool.

“Yeah,” he says, lifting himself over the edge. He grabs a towel resting over one of the chairs, running it quickly over his body and his hair, and part of you is just a little angry he’s shirtless and dripping wet while you’re trying to have this conversation with him—a conversation that requires judgment and focus. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking. A lot,” you start. “Since last night. I really didn’t sleep that much.”

“Okay,” he nods, hands on his hips. He runs the towel over his hair again, gesturing to one of the chaise lounges as he nears you. “Do you… wanna sit?”

You shake your head firmly. “No.”

He sighs, shoulders deflating. His hair is stuck up every which way, goggle impressions encircling his eyes. You know he only swims nowadays when he’s stressed. “Okay. Whenever you wanna—you look… you’re scaring me, sweetheart.“

“No,” you say, hopefully stopping that thought before he can even think it, shaking your hands out. “No, don’t be scared. I’m just, like, really trying to hype myself up a bit here.”

“No?” he asks, stepping closer to you. “Y/n, I know you needed time. And I don’t mind, I was even thinking… if you need it, we could wait ‘til the holidays? And then we can talk again. I mean, I’ll still be… yours and everything—“

You shake your head again. No more time, no more waiting.

“No, no more time. I don’t want any more time, Rafe. I want…” you trail off, a hand coming to cradle the side of his face, your thumb swiping under his eye and your other fingers tangled into his wet hair. Rafe holds his breath, eyes never straying from your own as you search his entire face. “I want you. Now. We’ve already waited so long, and—I love you, Rafe. And I knew you were struggling a-and I didn’t say anything because I was scared, and I didn’t want you to know that I knew you were freaking out—and I should’ve just fucking told you about the baby as soon as I found out—”

Rafe grabs your hand where it’s on his face, squeezing it lightly. “Y/n/n, hey. No that’s okay, really—”

“No, it’s not, Rafe. Because I was worried just like you were, and I wanted to keep all of the hard stuff away because finally letting myself fall in love with you was just like—it was so easy, Rafe. Like I always thought it would be since I was a kid. But I wasn’t ready for the hard parts,” you say, breathing heavily at this point, trying to ground yourself through your touch on his face. “I thought it’d be easier to just not deal with it, but then not having you—after I finally got you. That was the actual hard part.”

Rafe just nods. “I know.”

“So it’s gonna be hard sometimes, yeah? But we have to figure it out,” you say. “I wanna figure it out with you. Everything with your dad, and where we end up, all of it.”

“I know, me too.”

“But you have to—Rafe,” you say, your voice breaking. You can finally say it, what you bit back at the airport, what some part of you had always known. “You have to know you’re it for me, right? Like there’s nothing—there’s nobody else better for me, that can give me more or be what you think I need, there’s nobody, baby—it’s just you.”

“It’s me?”

“It’s you,” you breathe. “So you don’t get to just freak out and break up with me.”

“Fuck—I know, never. I mean it.”

“You know?”

“I know.”

“So, can you—”

“Gonna kiss you now, Y/l/n.”

And Rafe’s glancing between your eyes and your lips several times, then finally bringing you into the kiss you’d been aching for for weeks, neither of you paying any mind to the way his hair is dripping water onto your forehead, his wet swim trunks leaving a watermark on your sweatshirt and jeans where he has your hips pulled flush into his, one hand on your back and the other immediately in your hair. He pulls back after a while, practically gasping. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” you say, arms around his neck as you tug him back down. “Missed you.”

“Missed you. More,” he claims, pulling back long enough to look into your eyes. “And I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“No more secrets, for real this time,” he says, a hand under your chin. He kisses you when you nod. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

“And Rafe, with your dad… I just really want you to be happy, okay?” you say, pulling back to stare into his eyes. “I don’t care if he doesn’t like us together. Figure it out however you need to, and I’ll be there for you.”

Rafe sighs, eyes slipping shut as he thinks for a second. “I know. I’m figuring that one out, Y/n/n. It’s not going to be easy, but… think I have my priorities in order now.”

“Me too,” you smile, so happy that your breakup is already something you’re talking about in past tense. You bite your lip, eyes flicking across his face before you venture on. “I want you to know that I haven’t watered your plant once, by the way. And it’s still alive and kicking.”

Rafe grins at that, all attempts to keep you dry completely gone as he finally pushes you back into the main part of the house, hands firm on your hips. “Well, I didn’t even open that essay you edited. Found an old draft and just turned it in. B minus.”

“Rafe, I would’ve gotten you an A,” you say, reaching up and kissing just his bottom lip. You swipe your thumb over it, grin matching his.

“I will buy you a new plant,” he says, hand sliding into the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, still attempting to kiss you, talk to you, and lead you through Tannyhill simultaneously. “Promise. And you should also know you and those stupid jeans ruined my favorite movie franchise for me.”

You laugh out loud at that, fading into giggles as Rafe pecks your cheeks and chin where you’re pressed up against the stair banister, making his way down your neck before he has to pull himself back. “Yeah? Haven’t been able to listen to that indie band you hate in weeks, Cameron.”

“Okay, I’m not apologizing for that one,” Rafe laughs, the sound resonating in your chest. “I did you a favor. Also, I kept finding your hair everywhere.”

“Mm, wait—kinda love that one,” you preen, a hand scratching lightly at his scalp. “Still mine?”

“Still yours. Always been yours, baby,” Rafe says, glint in his eye when he pulls back again. “You didn’t correct that waiter at dinner, in California, did you Y/n Cameron?”

You have to push him off of you just long enough to actually make it inside of his bedroom—which he obviously makes harder than it needs to be. And then it’s water dripping all over the floor, your shoes being kicked off, a flurry of your bodies trying to reconnect in every single way as your voices did the same.

“I know. And I kept your shirt after you left,” you practically whine, still flustered from his last confession, letting him strip you of your sweatshirt as he presses kisses down your neck.

“Knew it was missing. I thought you might have added it to the collection,” Rafe laughs, walking you back toward his unmade bed easily. Your skin sings at the familiar brush of his cotton sheets. “That has to be at least five at this point.”

You just look up at him where he’s still standing over you, smirk on your lips. “Well. Six, if you count high school.”

“Mine,” Rafe breathes, practically melting down into you, lips pressing into every accessible part of your skin, two fingers tugging one of your bra straps down and to the side when he runs out of room. “Always been mine, too, yeah?”

“Yes, Rafe, fuck,” you keen, feeling his hand finally slip to the button of your jeans. He pauses his work on your neck, leaning back to gauge a reaction from you before he continues.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nod, nerves on fire as he finally drags your jeans down your legs, dropping them to the floor underneath him. It’s barely 7AM, you got here maybe ten minutes ago, and you know you must look a disheveled and over-tired mess by the time Rafe has you nearly bare and back in his bed again.

But your boy just looks down at you in wonder, one hand holding himself up as the other tries to find a place to settle on your body, finally resting on the side of your face, thumbing at your bottom lip. He leans down for a searing kiss, basically just two smiles pressing together when the lust momentarily wears off and you’re both just grinning idiots; Rafe pulls back just far enough to whisper something against your lips.

“Hi again, dream girl.”

—

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Seven minutes of truth and dare

Summary> You and Pietro have been friends since elementary school. On his 18th birthday, you try to socialize with his twin sister, Wanda Maximoff, who never seemed to like you very much.

Warnings> (implied) Enemies to Lovers/ Fluff and Smut/ Vaginal Fingering/ Boys Kissing/ Girls Kissing/ Underage Drinking/ 18+/ implicit sex/ swearing

Words> 3734k (Oneshot)

Read on AO3

It took little time to get to Maximoff's house, considering that you had to walk to the residence, since your ride - Natasha Romanoff, best friend, currently on the run together with her boyfriend Bruce Banner - just stood up to you. You were lucky to live only a few blocks away.

The noise of the party could already be heard from around the corner, and you wondered how long it would take for one of the neighbors to call the police. At least it was the weekend, and you remembered that Pietro had commented that the Parkers would be traveling on their honeymoon, being the only neighbors of the house. Pietro was always lucky for things like this.

When you finally arrived at the house, the sound of some electronic music was much louder. You greeted a few people with a nod, the vast majority classmates, who were actually more Pietro's friends than yours, and then you went inside.

The Maximoff residence was very nice, but at this moment it was full of teenagers drinking and dancing, many glasses and bottles lying on the floor.

Looking for Pietro, you found him upside down, drinking directly from a beer tank that was set up in the outside yard past the kitchen. You frowned slightly, hoping your friend didn't have an alcoholic coma, as you walked up to the group of teenagers who cheered and encouraged the challenge.

When he finished, the two boys holding him by the ankles helped him to balance again, laughing and patting Pietro on the back. Your friend staggered a bit, but then he saw you, flashing a smile before hugging you.

- You stink, birthday boy. - You teased, and Pietro just rolled his eyes humorously.

- You took your time. - He remarks as you release from your embrace. You shrug.

- You know this isn't my thing. - You remark, referring to the party. Pietro smiles.

- Yes, yes. But I'm glad you're here. - He replies and then takes your hands, lifting them a little and looking down your entire body. - And look at you, you even dressed up to come! Are you trying to have sex with someone?

You laughed, letting go of Pietro's hands to push him gently, which made Pietro laugh too. Soon you were surrounded by other friends, but not being very good with crowds, you said you were going to get something to drink before you left.

In the kitchen, you tried to find something that didn't have alcohol in it. You ended up grabbing one of the bottles of soda from the refrigerator, hoping that none of the Maximoffs would mind.

Someone changed the music and turned up the sound, so you heard the excited shouts of several people, who began to move into the room and dance around each other. You laughed at the image, walking upstairs.

A few people were scattered on this floor, mostly trying to smoke pot in hiding, or to have some privacy from the noise. A few others were just making out in the corners. You walked to Pietro's room, checking his present in your pocket.

He would be too busy being the popular extrovert he was tonight, so you thought it best to leave the small gift you bought for him on his bedside table, he could appreciate the gift when the party was over.

You closed the door on your way out, and frowned as you looked down the hall, a couple of strangers kissed passionately while one of the boys groped the walls for somewhere to go, you watched as he found one of the unlocked doors and went inside. You sighed, hesitating to make a move. You knew very well that this was Wanda's room. You figured that no one would want to know that strangers were screwing in their bed.

Hurrying inside, you opened the door.

- Sorry, boys, this one's off limits. - You warned them as you entered, noting that they were already almost naked. Grabbing the fallen clothes from around the room, they looked at you angrily, but then left the room.

You shifted the weight of your feet, realizing where you were at last. Looking around, you bit your lower lip as you observed how everything was just so Wanda.

The color of the walls, the sheets, even the way she organized the books and records. You ran your finger between the shelves on the wall, smiling at the collection of music she had in vinyl record format. And then you looked at the collection of dvds, compilations of old American sitcoms.

You walked over to the study table, a picture of Wanda and Pietro as children caught your eye. It was Halloween, and they were dressed up adorably, Wanda as a witch, with horns and a red cape, and Pietro as a superhero. You put the photo back, running your fingers through Wanda's notes displayed in the notebooks she left open on the table. On the few occasions you saw her at school during the past year, she was studying. Pietro had commented that she was going to apply to the best colleges in the country.

- What are you doing here? - A female voice sounded behind you, and you stumbled with fright, turning around quickly.

- God, Wanda, you scared the hell out of me. - You grumbled, but she continued with a look of mixed annoyance and curiosity. You looked away before speaking. - Sorry for snooping. I just came here to keep some boys from having sex in your bed.

Wanda blinked with confusion, but her expression softened. You noticed how beautiful she looked, and scolded yourself for thinking that the next second.

- Oh right. Thanks, I guess.

You nodded slightly, not being used to being alone with her.

- I didn't know you liked sitcons. - The words escape your anxious brain, and Wanda blinks in confusion. You thought she would throw you out of the room right away, but she just smiles, shrugging.

- You never asked. - She says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

- Yeah, I didn't know you wanted me to ask. - You retort, your voice coming out almost in a whisper. Wanda looks away, twiddling her fingers.

You were silent for a moment, and Wanda looked like she was about to say something, but then the door opened again, and you raised your eyebrows as you watched two girls snuggled up to each other and stumbled into the room, unaware of your presence. Wanda made an impatient expression.

- Get out, now! - she warns, and the girls part in shock. You raise your eyebrows as you realize that you knew them.

- Damn, we didn't know it was taken. - Carol grumbled, and when she looked at you her expression changed from embarrassment to happiness. - Y/N! I didn't know you were coming.

You nodded at her clumsily, and she just smiled, apologizing again as she dragged Maria out of the room, closing the door. You didn't even want to think about what you two were going to do.

- Maybe you should lock the door. - You said, and Wanda looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a tone of surprise and malice in her gaze. You blushed as you realized what your speech implied. - I-I mean when we get out of here.

Wanda laughed, and you tried to cope with the butterflies in your stomach that seeing her laugh gave you.

- I think I will stick around here anyway. - She comments after a moment, sitting up in bed. - Parties aren't really my thing.

- Yeah, I know how it is. - You add, a little awkwardly. - I only agreed to come because Pietro really wanted me to.

- You stopped coming here at home. - Wanda says with an expression you don't understand, it was as if she wanted to read you. - Are you two all right?

You look at her with mild surprise, not really expecting her to have noticed you anyway.

- Me and Pietro? Yes, we're fine! - you affirm, putting your hands in your pockets. - I guess the exams have been keeping me busy. And well, Pietro has lots of friends now, it's not like I'm missed that much.

You looked at the floor, not noticing Wanda's frown. You didn't want to think too much about Pietro replacing you, not today.

- I don't think that's true. - Wanda says after a moment. - Pietro likes you very much.

Wanda's tone is almost hurt. At first you thought that maybe she was thinking that Pietro enjoyed your company more than hers, which was absolutely ridiculous, but then you understood the tone of the insinuation, and laughed lightly, attracting the other girl's attention.

- You know we're just friends, right? - You start to explain, the idea of dating Pietro is so absurd that your voice comes out in a tone of debauchery and humor. - He has never looked at me like that! And I always thought he was like a little brother.

You laugh at the possibility, but Wanda looks at you intently.

- Would I be like your little sister too? - She replies in a low tone, and you feel your smile drop and look away, completely embarrassed.

- No. - You deny it, a little breathlessly. - I don't see you as a sister.

- And how do you see me?

Feeling your heart race, you force yourself to look up, looking at Wanda. She has a glint in her eyes that makes you want to kiss her.

Before you can answer, the door opens again, and Pietro stumbles inside.

- Great, I found you two! - He looked drunk. - We're going to play seven minutes in heaven, come on, come on!

Giving you two absolutely no chance to respond, he pushed you through the house, leading you to the basement, where your group of friends were waiting for you.

- Hey guys. - You greeted awkwardly seeing everyone standing there.

- No fucking way you two are at a party together! - joked Tony Stark, smiling at you. Despite the teasing, the others were genuinely happy with your company. - And they're still going to play with us? This is legendary.

- Why don't you just fuck off, Stark? - retorted Wanda as she entered. You knew they didn't get along very well, but Tony just shrugged, laughing at the other girl's aggressiveness.

- Come on, guys, do the circle! - asked Steve, who was already sitting in one of the armchairs. He put a bottle in the middle of the group. - Are you sure you want seven minutes?

- We start with truth and dare, Rogers. - said Tony as he sat down next to Thor, one of Pietro's soccer teammates.

- All right, all right, let's just play this game once and for all, - said Pietro impatiently. When everyone was sitting in a circle, Steve touched the bottle, smiling at the group.

Turning the bottle, everyone looked forward in anticipation. The tip stopped at Sam, one of his closest friends, who seemed confident to respond to anything.

- Truth or dare, Wilson? - Steve asked.

- I'll go for truth.

- Boring. - Grumbled Tony, but Steve just laughed, and assumed a thoughtful expression.

- Who was the last person you kissed?

Sam bowed his head, a smile on his lips. You frowned, he was not the type to be shy. Tony noticed as well and assumed a curious posture, looking at Sam intently.

- The last person I kissed... - Sam began, pausing, as if wondering if he was really going to say it - Was Bucky.

The whole group exclaimed in surprise, and Tony burst out laughing. You looked at Bucky, who just seemed too embarrassed to respond to the jokes.

- Okay, let's pretend this isn't the biggest sex scandal in school, and move on. - Pietro said in an amused tone. Sam laughed at his comments, and turned the bottle, which stopped at Thor.

- Dare. - Said the blond man without even waiting for Sam to ask. Sam laughed and thought for a few seconds before saying:

- Okay, everyone will need to put their cell phones on speaker for this one. - Sam said and nodded, waiting for everyone to obey. The group laughed, but followed his lead. - Well, my challenge is very simple. Send a message to the person you want to make out with from here. Everyone will know who.

- You are terrible, Wilson. - Thor commented, ignoring the sighs of excitement that the group shared.

It took a moment for Thor to pick up his cell phone, and type something. He took a sip of his beer before pressing enter, and the next second, Valkyrie's cell phone rang.

- This is not at all surprising, actually. - Steve joked, making everyone laugh.

Valkyrie gave Thor a surprised and mischievous look, but said nothing. Thor looked slightly flushed.

- If you guys are lucky, you can win seven minutes. - Sam teased.

Thor laughed but said nothing. He stepped forward to spin the bottle. Tony let out a pleased exclamation when he saw the bottle stop on him.

- Fuck, finally! - He said, and raised his hand to interrupt Thor, who was probably about to ask the choice. - No need, darling. Of course I want a dare, this game is no fun without it.

- Fine, Stark. - Thor laughed. - Since you love to show off, I dare you to give Rogers a lap dance.

The group burst into laughter, but Steve seemed considerably anxious. Tony laughed, a little awkwardly, and then stood up.

Thor was quick to get some music playing, and everyone was quiet in anticipation. When Tony started to perform, you blinked awkwardly. You had no desire to see Anthony Stark do a lap dance on someone's lap. You pulled your cell phone out of your pocket checking for messages, and smiled when you saw that there was a message from Nat, just a picture of her and Bruce, smoking together in what you thought looked like the Skateboard Court near the school.

The group laughed again, and you lifted your head to see that Tony was riding on Steve's lap, with his shirt off. Steve was very red.

- Okay guys, I think that's good enough! - Thor laughed, and Tony stood up. The group laughed at the visible erections on both of them, before continuing the game.

- Can you keep up, Stark? - Thor sneered, pointing at Tony's pants. He gave a lopsided smile, and pointed a middle finger at Thor before picking up the bottle.

You felt your stomach flip with nervousness when the bottle stopped on you.

- Well, well, this should be interesting. - said Tony looking at you mischievously. - Tell me, kitten, truth or dare?

You considered your options for a few seconds. If you asked for truth, Tony would not only tease you, but also find a way to make you confess something embarrassing. At least with dare, it would be quick and without much impact on your post-party life.

- Dare. - You say simply, and Tony looks surprised.

- It's been a night of surprises. - he scoffed. - And I think it's time for us to start the seven minutes in heaven.

- Damn it, Tony. - You mumble clumsily. Tony laughs and then flashes you a smile of fake kindness.

- I'll be nice to you. The bottle will choose your partner. - He says, and you cover your face with both hands for a moment before grabbing the bottle.

- I hate you, - you mutter to Tony before swirling the bottle around. With luck it would stop at one of your friends, and you would spend seven minutes talking.

- No fucking way! - shouted Tony excitedly as the bottle stopped at Wanda. You felt your stomach drop. - I always knew you'd end up with a Maximoff, I never thought it would be with the most gothic of them.

The group laughed, but you were feeling extremely anxious. You felt your legs tremble slightly when Tony pulled you off the couch, seeing your lack of reaction. You tried to smile, but it must have come out as a grimace, since Tony laughed.

- Remember girls, no cheating. - he warned, opening the closet door. You went in first, and then Tony closed the door when Wanda came in.

The closet was completely dark, and you could only distinguish Wanda's silhouette by squinting your eyes. You leaned your body against the wall, your breaths were the only sounds in the room, since the noise of the party was muffled.

- That's awkward. - You said trying to ease your nerves.

- Why is it awkward? - Wanda replied. The closet was small, and looking at the floor, you noticed that your shoes were only inches from touching.

- I don't know, I guess I never thought I'd be in a closet with you. - you confess humorously. But with Wanda's lack of response, you bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say next.

- Who did you think you would be stuck with? - She says after a moment, sounding as if she is trying to prolong the subject.

- I don't know. - You say, looking at your shoes again. You think you're imagining that the distance between you has decreased. - I don't really think about being stuck in closets.

Wanda laughs at your statement, and you feel your heart race at the sound. You count twelve seconds in silence before she speaks again.

- I never understood why we didn't become friends. - Wanda confesses, and you look up at her silhouette.

Because I've been a gay disaster in your presence since I met you. You think, but think it best to just shrug. Then you remember that she can't see the gesture, and try to think of something to say.

- Different political views. - You joke, and Wanda giggles.

- I like your humor. - She says next, and you feel your cheeks heat up, and look down, only to see Wanda's shoes signaling that she has taken a step toward you. You press your back against the wall, watching her move closer in the dark. - And honestly, I've always liked you a lot.

- W-what? - You ask breathlessly, feeling Wanda's presence right in front of you, your noses touching.

- I always noticed you, you know. - She says, drawing her face closer to your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair. You were thankful that there was a wall behind you, serving as a support. - I would see you around the house. Playing in my yard. And the jokes at the dinner table. Always so quiet and shy at school, so behaved and obedient. - Wanda whispered, and then she brought her mouth close to his ear. - Tell me, did you notice me too?

- Yes. - You confess breathlessly. And ignoring the uneven beating of your own heart, you continue. - I have always noticed you. Ever since middle school, when you started wearing leather boots, and painting your fingernails. Or when I was at your swimming pool and you sat quietly with a book. I noticed you.

Wanda lets out a sigh, bringing your foreheads together.

- Tell me to stop if you don't want this. - She whispered against your lips. You would have laughed if you weren't so anxious.

You didn't answer, and wanting her to know how much you wanted her, you moved forward, pressing your lips together in a tender kiss.

Wanda took a step back in surprise, separating your mouths. You were about to apologize, thinking that maybe you had got it all wrong, but the next second she moved against you, her hands on your neck as your mouths joined in a firm, passionate kiss.

Bringing your hands to her waist, you pressed her against your body, and you gasped against each other's mouths. Wanda asked for passage with her tongue running over your lower lip, and you opened your mouth, gasping as you felt your tongues come together.

Kissing like this for a moment was enough to warm your whole body, a familiar discomfort forming below your belly. Having Wanda moaning against your mouth was not helping.

You slowed the kiss, stroking her tongue with yours slowly. Wanda pressed herself against you, one knee coming up between your legs. With the new friction, you felt your body tremble in anticipation, delighting in pleasure.

You were startled when you heard a noise, someone must have knocked something over outside the closet. And then you remembered that you were in a closet, with your best friend's sister, who was in the next room with six other people, with no idea that you were about to fuck Wanda.

You began to slow the kiss until you separated the two of you. Your chests were rising out of rhythm as you were breathing heavily

- We only have seven minutes. - You whispered out of breath, feeling Wanda nod her head slightly as you stood there with your foreheads pressed together.

- We can go to my room. - She spoke in the same tone. You nodded in agreement, beginning to miss the taste of Wanda in your mouth.

- Should we wait until the party is over?

Wanda let out a breathless giggle.

- Tell me. - She whispered, and removed her hands from your neck. With one hand she lifted her skirt, while with the other she took your hand from her waist and guided it down between her legs. You trembled as you touched her, pushing the fabric of her panties aside to feel her wet pussy. - Do you think I can wait?

- Fuck, Wanda. - You spoke breathlessly, and felt her moan as your finger moved against her clitoris. She squeezed your shoulder, closing her eyes. - You're so wet. So fucking wet for me.

You began to move your finger, penetrating her shallowly. Wanda buried her head in your neck, moaning against your skin.

It takes all your mental and physical control, but you withdraw your finger from inside her, while with the hand that was still on her waist you move up and down her back, stroking to calm her down.

- I want to feel you in my mouth. - You whisper to her. - I want you to come for me with your legs spread wide open on your bed.

Wanda nods against your neck, trembling slightly. And then the door opens. You barely catch Tony's joke, feeling disconnected from everything that isn't Wanda.

And before you can say anything, Wanda grabs your hand, pulling you out.

- Where do you think you're going? - You hear someone shout, but neither of you even bother to answer.

You can't help but smile when you reach the second floor, and Wanda pushes you into the room, locking the door as she brings your mouths together.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda imagines #high school au #marvel imagines #oneshot #wanda x reader #wandaxreader

1K notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

hwayoung’s two now and y/n’s allowed to be emotional about it, okay?

➺ genre; ceo!yoongiverse!! a little bit of yoongi and y/n being mushy for each other!! fluff!! cutest drabble for the cutest girl!! jungkook and jimin bickering like an old married couple as per usual!!

➺ wordcount; 3.2k

➺ p.s. this drabble is approximately five months overdue and it’s basically been collecting dust in my drafts so i figured i’d finally release it into the wild since it’s mother’s day today and i thought it’d be nice to read something sweet on this special day!!!! happy mother’s day!!! give ur mom a big ol hug and a kiss on the cheek :-) and if u don’t celebrate mother’s day that’s okay you can still read this for a small boost of serotonin wahoo :D

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“i’d just like to inform you that if it wasn’t for the fact that today is hwayoung’s birthday, the idea of having cake as part of breakfast would definitely be off the table.” yoongi pauses before turning his head to look at you pointedly, “in fact, it wouldn’t even had made it to the table in the first place.”

“trust me, you’ve made that clear multiple times-” you roll your eyes playfully before offering yoongi a half-hearted shrug, “it’s not a big deal! we’ll just give her a tiny little chunk that’ll fit in her tiny little hand and then we’ll save the rest for later!”

“yeah, right-” yoongi snorts, making his way over to you to hand you a balloon, “you’re probably going to sneak an entire slice of cake into her mouth while i’m not watching-” he teases, digging his fingers into your sides playfully before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest, “you think you’re so sneaky-”

“hey-!” you giggle, squirming in his grip when you feel him starting to nip at the side of your neck, “this is not a very productive use of our time, boss-”

“hey, you two! are you just going to stand there making out all day or are you actually going to help me with the decorations?”

both you and yoongi peer over the edge to see jimin standing by the bottom of the spiral staircase looking very unimpressed and you flash him a sheepish smile

“we’re not making out-”

“yeah, well you might as well be-”

“we’re helping! we’re almost done tying balloons to the banisters-” you argue, holding the balloon in your hand up before flopping it around enthusiastically, “we-” you jolt when you accidentally let go of it, watching with wide eyes as it rockets around the ceiling before poot-poot-pooting pathetically and landing on the ground by jimin’s feet

whoops

“…yes, that’s very helpful, thank you.” jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head as he bends down to pick up the sad, spitty balloon up off the ground with a grimace, “when you’re done, come down and help me because this balloon arch isn’t going to make itself! chop-chop, people-” he claps his hands together as he wanders back to the living room to the half-constructed balloon arch

“you know, you’d think that hwayoung was his daughter-” yoongi murmurs lowly, twisting his neck to give your cheek a quick kiss before pulling away

“mm, tell me about i-”

“she’s mine when the two of you drop dead!”

you jump in surprise at the sound of jimin’s voice snapping at you from below and you and yoongi exchange glances before bursting into quiet giggles

“i feel like i should be more concerned that jimin seems to be very eagerly waiting for our deaths.” you joke, reaching for the bag of balloons and pulling out a handful of them

as much as you love your daughter you weren’t planning on having a super big birthday party for her just because..,., well, she’s probably not going to remember most of it considering she’s two and also it’s just the five of you celebrating at home, so you thought that a cake and a bunch of presents would be good enough of a celebration

of course, when you told jimin about these plans he looked like he was ready to bury you alive which is why he insisted that he’d take care of the food and the drinks and basically the entirety of hwayoung’s birthday party and told you that all you and yoongi had to do was sit back, relax, blow up a couple of balloons and also choose a cute birthday outfit for hwayoung

(jimin actually ended up taking over that part as well. he bought her a new birthday dress and a brand new pair of shoes to go with it.)

“everyone can relax! the star of the show has now arrived!”

the sound of the front door slamming shut suddenly shatters the silence and you smile lightly when you see jungkook sauntering in as if he owns the place

“good morning, kook.” you hum, jungkook looking up at you before offering you a lopsided grin, “actually, the star of the show is still fast asleep in her room.”

“oh, right-” jungkook snorts, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist, “i mean, yeah, of course this is hwayoung’s special day- but check it out! i picked up her birthday cake and brought it back here and i didn’t accidentally ruin it somehow!” he raises the big blue box in his hand with a beam, “i’m incredible!”

“that thing looks huge, jungkook!” you frown lightly, “i told you not to go crazy-”

“please tell me you didn’t max out my credit card buying a giant cake for hwayoung.” yoongi chimes in, leaning over and folding his arms atop the banister, “i hope you realise it’s just going to be the three of you having to eat it all-”

“it’s hwayoung’s birthday, i had to splurge! you know that ‘everything is cake’ trend? i ordered a custom cake and asked them to make it look like a giant cookie! but i also ordered a dozen chocolate chip cookies just in case she’s not into the cake.” jungkook smiles proudly before pausing, “…of course, knowing hwayoung, she’s going to love the cookies and the cake, so i’m not too worried. i’m going to see if i can shove these into the fridge-”

“what’s wrong?” yoongi nudges your side to get you to look at him, “you look like you’re thinking, which is never really a good thing-”

“hwayoung’s two now.” you blink twice before turning to look at yoongi, “she’s two.”

“yes. you’re very good at keeping track of our daughter’s age.” yoongi coos, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, “good job, baby.”

“two years old!” you gasp, turning around to lean back against the railing before shaking your head, “my god, she’s aged.”

“oh my god, you’re right. the ripe old age of two.” yoongi teases before gasping dramatically and reaching over to grip onto your forearm, “soon, we’ll be thinking about what elementary school to send her off to... and then the next thing you know, we’ll be helping her look for her own apartment when she’s off at university... and then you’ll be going wedding dress shopping with h-”

“stOP stop stop stop-” you wave your hands before covering them over your ears, yoongi laughing lightly when you frown at him, “i don’t want her to turn two! because that means she’s going to turn three… and then she’s going to turn four… and then five, six, seven, eight-” you pause and your eyes suddenly widen in horror, “she’s going to be a sixteen year old one day- what if she turns into a bratty sixteen year old?? because i was a really bratty sixteen year old and i don’t want her to turn out like me! do you know how hard it’s going to be if she turns into me? i used to sneak home at four in the morning-”

“let’s keep in mind that hwayoung is also my daughter and i was not a bratty sixteen year old,” yoongi interrupts calmly before giving your arm a reassuring squeeze, “she’s gonna be fine! and you turned out great, so give yourself a little bit of credit-”

“i just want her to stay two forever.” you pout, crossing your arms stubbornly as you look down the hallway towards her room, “is that too much to ask for??”

“when the terrible twos hit, i guarantee you’re probably going to feel a little different.” yoongi teases, pushing himself up off the banister before gesturing for you to go and join jimin and jungkook downstairs, “why don’t you help jimin out with the balloon arch while i go and wake our little miss two year old up?”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

yoongi presses his lips together tightly as he twists the doorknob, being careful not to make too loud of a sound to accidentally shock hwayoung awake

the last thing he wants is for to burst into tears at the start of her special day

he peers into the bedroom, smiling fondly when he sees a little lump under the covers shuffling a little

a chubby sock-clad foot pokes out for a second before it disappears again

“이게 누굴까요? [hm… who’s that]?” yoongi asks quietly, the lump suddenly freezing in place, “드디어 일어나셨네요… [i think someone’s finally awake…]”

he tilts his head when a messy head of hair pops out from under the covers, the corners of hwayoung’s mouth immediately lifting in a bright smile when she spots him, “우리 공주 좋은 아침입니다! [oh! good morning, miss min!]”

he lets himself into the room and reaches over to click the white noise machine off before starting to quietly pad his way over to her, his heart melting in his chest when her mouth opens up in a quiet little yawn

“잘 주무떠뜹니까… [gub moming…]” hwayoung murmurs, eyelids fluttering slightly as yoongi reaches down to push some of her hair out of her face

“잘 잤어? [hi, baby… did you sleep well?]” yoongi asks, leaning down to scoop her up, “우리 화영이 생일 축하해… 밑에서 다 기다리고 있어... [happy birthday, my darling… we’re all waiting for you downstairs...]” he whispers, rubbing circles into her warm back when she immediately clings to him, “머리에 물 좀 묻히고 내려갈까? 머리가 아주 산발이네. [why don’t we freshen up a little, hm? the birthday girl can’t take pictures with a bird’s nest on her head.]”

“딴바. [birb’s ness.]”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“i hope she likes the present i got for her.” jungkook mutters, his foot tapping anxiously against the ground as he looks up towards the top of the stairs in anticipation of hwayoung’s arrival, “i mean, if she doesn’t like it, there’s a receipt in the box so i can return it and get something else for her… but i really hope she likes it.”

“jungkook, she’s two. i gave her a wooden spoon to play with the other day and she was ecstatic.” you snort, peeling an eye open to look at him from where you’re lying on the couch before shutting it again, “i’m sure she’ll love whatever you got for her.”

“what’s the matter with you?” jimin hums, glancing at you for a second before focusing his attention back on sticking the bright pink ‘2’ candle onto the cake, “you look a little out of it today.”

“gee, thanks.” you snort, blindly grabbing one of the throw pillows before hugging it to your chest, “no, i’m fine, i just- i was feeling a little mopey this morning about hwa turning two and now i’m just thinking about how time has just flown by…”

“mm. it seems like it was only yesterday that i was holding your hair back while you violently puked your guts out into the toilet bowl.” jimin jokes, holding a hand to his chest before spinning around to face you and jungkook, “ah… fond memories that i’ll look back on for the rest of my life.”

“you know, i should’ve told yoongi i was pregnant in another way.” you suddenly change the subject, propping yourself up onto your elbows with a frown, “all i did was give him a tiny cookie. how lame is that?!”

“to be fair, you didn’t know how he was going to react, so maybe it was a good thing you went for something so simple!” jimin shrugs, making his way over to you before sticking his hand out for you to take, “c’mon, miss mopey. hwayoung probably doesn’t want to see you throwing yourself a pity party on her special day when she comes down here.”

»»————-　🍰　————-««

“-화영이가 엄마한테가서 이쁜짓 해주는 거 어떨까? [-now, mama is feeling very emotional today, so i think it’d be a really good idea to act extra cute, okay?]” yoongi whispers to hwayoung, planting a quick kiss on her cheek while slowly making his way down the stairs, “of course, that probably isn’t going to be a problem for you, seeing that you’re adorable 24/7-”

“i adowbo.” hwayoung murmurs, leaning down and squishing her cheek against yoongi’s shoulder, “졸려. [i seepy.]”

“졸리다고? [sleepy?]” yoongi pauses on the steps, reaching up to adjust one of her pigtails with a smile, “이거 큰일났네, 졸리면 어떡해! [you can’t be sleepy for your morning conference. look alive!]”

“is that the sleepy little birthday girl?”

yoongi looks down to see you waiting eagerly at the bottom of the stairs, your hands clasped together and your eyes glued on hwayoung, “good morning!”

“mama!” hwayoung immediately twists around in yoongi’s arms at the sound of your voice, reaching out for you with a teethy grin as soon as yoongi gets close enough to you

“oh, happy birthday, my sweet little baby!“ you coo as you take her into your arms, squishing multiple kisses to her chubby cheek as you hold her close, “happy happy birthday, my beautiful girl…”

“ahppa bouday!” hwayoung giggles, little hands patting against your face

she leans in and smushes her nose against yours before giving you a drooly kiss on the cheek and you can’t help but laugh at how affectionate she’s being with you

see??

you want to keep her like this forever and it sucks to think about the fact that one day you’re going to set her down on the ground after carrying her and you’ll never pick her up again because she won’t need you to pick her up again

:-(

“oh…” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your nose prickle and your eyes starting to get a little tingly, “i love you so much…”

you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before hwayoung’s suddenly being plucked from your arms, both jimin and jungkook immediately starting to fawn over her as per usual

“우리 화영이, 공주님이 따로 없네! [look at how beautiful you are in your dress!]” jimin exclaims animatedly, hwayoung clapping her hands together in response

her dress is sage green and gingham and it even came with matching ribbons for her hair and you have to admit that jimin made a pretty good choice with this birthday outfit

you probably would’ve stuck her in a pair of overalls or something

“see, what’d i say?” jimin smiles proudly, smoothing down the back of hwayoung’s dress before looking over at jungkook, “i told you the sage green was cuter- 아니 빨간 걸 왜 입혀 뭐 애를 도마로 만들 생각이니- [the red one that you wanted to go with would’ve made her look like a picnic blanket-]”

“아니 도마라니! [red gingham is classy!]” jungkook argues, trailing behind jimin while making faces at hwayoung to get her to laugh, “입혀보지도 않고- [you didn’t even give it a chance-]”

“난 그딴 거 염두에 두지 않는다 정국아- [i don’t need to give tacky garbage a chance, jungkook-]”

“hey, are you okay?” yoongi gives you a quick hug and kiss on the side of your head when he suddenly notices a tear running down your cheek, “she’s just turning two, y/n... she’s not moving out of the country-”

“i know, i know-“ you sniffle, reaching up to quickly wipe at your tears before chuckling, “i guess i’m just feeling extra emotional today-”

“c’mon, parents!” jimin calls out for you two while setting hwayoung down in her high chair, “the candle is melting and this cake is too expensive to get any wax dripped on it-”

“gookee!” hwayoung points to the cake and claps her hands as she bounces up and down on her seat, “gookee, mama!”

“yeah! cookie!” you mimic enthusiastically, smiling widely when she suddenly lets out a high-pitched squeal of excitement, her nose scrunching particularly cutely, “i’m glad to see that you inherited my love for cookies and not appa’s love for muesli.”

yoongi immediately scoffs and reaches down to give your bum a quick swat

“i know she’s saying cookie, but i’m just going to go ahead and say that she’s actually saying the name of her favourite uncle-” jungkook sighs, reaching down to pinch hwayoung’s cheek, “화영이는 꾹이 삼촌 제일 좋아하- [uncle gookee is your forever favourite-]”

“어 응 뉘에- [yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night-]” jimin snorts, shoving the camera into his hands as the four of you stand in front of hwayoung, “okay, don’t touch the cake yet! let’s get some pretty pictures of the birthday girl first!”

“hwa, look into the camera!” jungkook coos, snapping his fingers to get her to look up at him, “그래 삼촌 한 번만 봐 봐- [look at uncle goo- yeah, there we go-]”

you watch hwayoung fondly as she continues to ham it up for the camera, her little legs kicking in anticipation under the tray

“good girl, you’re being so patient.” you hum before reaching over to pluck a cookie from the open box, “ooh, i’ve been dying to sink my teeth into one of these-”

“i had one earlier, they’re pretty good!” jimin nods, brushing past jungkook to get to you, “the bakery i ordered them from has, like five out of five stars one google review- hey, what’s that face for?”

“eugh- do the cookies taste a little funky to you?” you face screws up as you swallow the bite before holding the cookie up to take a closer look at it, “it’s just chocolate chip, right?”

“yeah- hold on, lemme try-” jimin frowns, reaching over to steal your cookie before taking a bite of it and chewing thoughtfully

“maybe you just got a weird one?” yoongi suggests, peering into the box with a frown, “all cookies taste funky to me, so my opinion probably isn’t valid here-”

“it’s fine, i’ll try another one later-” you dust your fingers off before perking up and clapping your hands together, “hey, should yoongi and i hop in for some pictures before hwa completely destroys the entire cake?”

“yeah, it… might be a little too late for that.” jungkook clears his throat and the three of you look over to see hwayoung’s tubby arms shoved elbow deep into the cake, “i gave her the green light to go ahead and eat. she just looked so sad and hungry, i’m sorry!”

hwayoung cackles in glee as she continues slapping her hand against the cake, her grubby little hands now sticky and her new dress stained with globs of frosting chocolate

“oh my god.” you stifle a laugh and reach up to cover your mouth so that you don’t burst out laughing at the fact that both jimin and yoongi look absolutely appalled

“i spent, like, ten minutes doing her hair-” yoongi whines, gently nudging you aside so he can hurry over to hwayoung and try to salvage the neat little pigtails he spent forever working on, “and now there’s frosting everywhere!”

“that dress was expensive, jungkook!” jimin snaps, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was about to burst into tears, “and i didn’t even get any nice pictures with her before she- come on, man-”

“i’m sorry!”

“ahppy bodday!” hwayoung shrieks in delight and flings her arms up, chunks of cake and specks of frosting flicking out from her hands, “i adowbo!”

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svnflowervol666 · 3 years

Note

hey! can you write one where harry invites y/n and his band mates out for drinks and they try to hand her a drink but she reveals she previously by saying like “you can’t drink when your pregnant” ...

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I combined this one with a request for where Harry constantly refers to Y/N as his “ex-girlfriend,” because they’re engaged now. ((Super cute. Super corny. Makes my heart mush. Anyway.)) Kinda short but still sweet. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Take care and TPWK.

“There she is!”

His voice is drowned out by clanking glasses and the heavy bass of whatever rock song was playing through the shitty speakers in the corner of the room, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. Followed by his “greeting” were the shouts and howls of the rest of the bunch, most of them raising their glass in honor of her (late) arrival.

“My ex-girlfriend!”

Harry, despite his inebriated state, smiled widely and welcomed her as protectively as he always had in the past few weeks - relieving her person of any bags or extra weight, this time being her coat and purse which he hung on the brass hooks underneath the bar table, and inspecting her facial expression for any signs of discontent or worry. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when he kicked his “dad-mode,” tendencies into overdrive, but it certainly began on that rainy, Thursday night in their shared bathroom as they sat against the wall of the bathtub with four positive pregnancy tests in both of their hands.

“Really wish you’d stop calling me that, Har,” she sneered as he helped her shake her arms loose from her coat.

“One of these days you’re gonna cause a scene.”

“'S true, though,” the drunken boy giggled.

“You’re not m’ girlfriend anymore. You’re my fiance.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at his antics, intending to pull him in for a quick hug and kiss when her attention was drawn away from her curly-headed brunette and towards the man of the hour.

“Y/N!”

“Hello, birthday boy,” her voice was mellow against the drunken slur that had started to take over her friend, Mitch’s.

“‘S not very nice of you to be late to my party,” he slurred as he pulled her in rather harshly for a bone-crushing hug.

“Sorry, got caught up with some work stuff,” Y/N managed to get out through a chuckle in between Mitch’s squeezing.

She saw Harry stiffen out of the corner of her eye, like he was torn between yelling something akin to, “Take it easy on her, mate. She’s pregnant for christ’s sake,” or letting the interaction play out. He knew he wasn’t allowed to do the former, as they’d agreed to wait until they could have all of their friends and family over at the same time to tell them the good great news, so Harry opted to let Mitch hug her extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic worries that he’d crush her fragile frame or hurt the baby in some way. She made sure to send a reassuring smile Harry’s way when Mitch let her go from his grasp.

Short and sweet was her greeting to Sarah, both of them opting to kiss one another on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” her voice was quiet amongst the chatter of the bar, almost sounding like a whisper.

Y/N felt the heat climbing to her cheeks as she let Sarah take her hand in hers to examine the ring on her fourth finger. The band was gold and slim, adorned with a dainty yet sizeable single diamond in the very center.

“So pretty,” she gushed, admiring the way the gem flittered, even in the dim, tungsten-glow of the bar.

Y/N muttered a quiet “thank you,” before making her away back to the other side of the table where Harry was waiting for her with an outstretched arm, yearning to get back to what they had been doing before Y/N had to make her rounds.

As he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, Y/N caught wind of the tequila on his breath. She tasted it too, when she pecked his lips quickly and - oh god, did she taste stout as well? Maybe she’d end up taking care of him later tonight when his head was stuck in the toilet, but that seemed plenty fair considering how often Harry had been doing the same exact thing for her here lately.

“Yeh alright? Had me all worried when ya said you’d be late,” Harry’s question was asked lowly so that only she could hear.

Harry had been with Mitch and Sarah all day celebrating, hence this was the first time he’d seen Y/N since this morning when he kissed her and sent her off to work.

Y/N nodded and smiled, though her face led Harry to believe differently.

“Got sick when I got home from the office. Just took me a little bit longer to get out the door,” she shrugged, insinuating that it wasn’t a big deal, but that she wasn’t feeling one hundred percent ready-to-party either.

“Baby,” Harry half-scolded her, feeling a good portion of his buzz leave his body when Y/N mentioned that she hadn’t felt well.

“Why didn’t yeh just tell me you were sick? Coulda came home and sat with you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to ditch your best friend’s birthday dinner just because I was throwing up for the fifteenth time this week,” she was stern in her words and made it clear that she was fine.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

Harry’s jaw softened at her proclamation, the muscles in his torso easing up from their tense position.

“Oi! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!” Mitch shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple whilst they talked about their sweet little secret that they were dying to tell everyone about.

“You,” Mitch pointed his finger towards Y/N’s head.

“Shots. Now,” he gestured to the bartender making drinks on the opposite end of where their table was.

Both Y/N and Harry chuckled nervously, unsure of how to work around the fact that Y/N couldn’t drink without spilling the beans.

“Think I need to get some food in my stomach before I do that. Why don’t you take Harry,” Y/N urged Harry forward by his shoulder and prayed it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Mitch glared.

“It’ll just make it hard for you to catch up later then!”

He grabbed Harry by the bicep and cleared through the crowd of people in order to get his liquor he was so keen about.

The conversation with Sarah was light, mostly about what all they’d done today and bets on if Mitch would end up needing to be babied for the rest of the night. Y/N successfully dodged Sarah’s questions about the wedding and how planning was going along, chalking it up to busy work schedules and failing to come to an agreement on a venue and date.

“Harry’s dead set on a summer wedding, but I’m fighting for a winter date,” she dismissed through a nervous chuckle when the reality was that they were unsure how to navigate planning a wedding around the arrival of their baby to make any more decisions.

It seemed like ages passed before the two men returned. Y/N was picking at the fries and sipping on the ginger ale Harry had ordered her before she’d gotten there but was interrupted when Harry and Mitch came barrelling back to the table.

He was drunk. Quite drunk. And Y/N knew that because his body felt even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he’d left. She imagined they definitely had more than once shot at the bar, but she didn’t have much time to ponder that before she felt his hands snake around her waist and rest on her hips. She reciprocated his touch, looping her arms around his shoulders and laying her head against his chest.

“Love you,” Harry muttered into the soft spot between her jaw and ear, then his hands wormed their way under her shirt to rest on the underside of her tummy.

“Love you too,” he said again.

She could feel him smile against her skin as he cradled her almost non-existent baby bump from underneath her oversized sweater. Harry was the only one who saw her regularly enough to notice the minute changes her body had been going through. To everyone else, she still looked like plain, old Y/N.

“We love you more, but if you don’t stop canoodling me in the middle of this bar,” Y/N began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly in his ear, “Everyone’s going to find out and you won’t get to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks now.”

Harry sighed, knowing she was right, and loosened his hold on her tummy and opting to sling an arm over her shoulder to at least keep her close instead.

“I know what you’re up to,” Mitch glared at the two of them from across the table.

This gained the attention of not only Y/N and Harry but Sarah as well. Everyone turned to look at Mitch, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“And what would that be, Mitchy?” Y/N toyed.

A pout formed on his face, arms quickly crossed his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave me all alone on my birthday.”

“Guess I’m not even here then. I’m a hallucination,” Sarah baited with a roll of her eyes.

“We’re not trying t’ leave ya, mate. Promise,” Harry stuck his pinky out across the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Are too.”

Mitch’s drunken rambles were beginning to sound quite childish now and became more amusing by the second.

“Are not, honey bun,” Y/N requited.

“Liars. Both of you.”

Mitch launched a bunched up straw wrapper in Harry’s direction that bounced off of his most prominent curl and landed somewhere near his feet.

“Where would we even go, hmm?” Harry taunted, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was leaned against the table.

“What could we possibly planned tha’ would be better than spending time with you lot on your birthday?”

They watched as Mitch’s remaining sobriety fought hard for an answer, but ultimately giving into his drunkness and murmuring, “Don’t know! Probably going off to screw each other or something!”

The table burst into laughter, and Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest out of embarrassment.

“Wouldn’t surprise me actually,” Sarah quipped before taking a huge sip of her cocktail.

“Look. Here’s the deal,” Mitch tried his best in his drunken stupor to be serious.

“Prove to me that you’re not gonna leave me and take another shot.”

“Fine,” Harry shrugged.

“Let’s go back t’ the bar then.”

He started to pull Mitch along but was stopped suddenly.

“No,” Mitch was quick to intervene.

“Y/N too. If you both drink, you can’t drive home and leave me,” he said proudly as if his idea was the smartest thing he’d ever come up with.

She knew it was only Mitch being sloppy drunk and acting like the idiot he always was, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel her palms begin to sweat. They couldn’t tell Mitch the real reason why she couldn’t drink with the group tonight, so she was quickly wracking her brain for another excuse now that she’d filled her belly with french fries since giving her last one.

But there was no need to think any further, as Harry stepped in for her.

“She can’t do tha’, mate. Now, c’mon. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Sarah needs another drink as well, hmm?”

Harry pinched his nose in annoyance. He was trying his hardest to keep this all under wraps, but Mitch was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her keeper? Telling her what she can and can’t do?” Mitch yelled.

“No, you nunce. She can’t drink because yeh can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Fuck.

Harry clapped his hand over his mouth before he finished his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. Wasn’t even sure if he was thinking at all, to be completely honest. He silently prayed that neither Mitch nor Sarah heard him, but he quickly realized that was untrue when they both stared between him and Y/N with wide eyes.

“Y/N L/N. Are you pregnant?” Sarah was the first to speak up.

Y/N felt like she was stuck in place, only able to look at Harry with a racing chest and her mouth agape.

“I, um, I - yes?” It came out as more of a question due to her state of shock.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Holy shit,” Harry exclaimed as he went back to Y/N’s side to console her.

He was spiraling in fear that Y/N was angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol making him think so.

“You’re having a baby?” Mitch’s voice was unusually quiet for how loudly he had been yelling just moments ago.

“Yeah. We are,” she was laughing nervously as she spoke.

“Sorry that Harry ruined the surprise. We wanted to have a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag for you guys.”

She rubbed Harry’s back with her palm, a silent reassurance for Harry that she wasn’t upset with him. Mitch and Sarah, however, they couldn’t read.

Mitch said nothing, only leaving his position beside Sarah to go stand in between Y/N and Harry. He looked at them both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only added to their discomfort.

In a split second, he had his arms around both of them, hugging them tightly.

“Holy shit! This is the best birthday present ever. Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah. What the fuck?!” he was rambling now, beaming from ear to ear as he ran over to pull Sarah, who was also losing her shit, just in her own seat and not on top of Harry and Y/N, into the group hug.

Their eyes caught each other in the midst of the friend-sandwich they were being forced to be a part of. A smile and knowing look were exchanged between them and they knew, despite it not coming out in the most fashionable way, their precious little bub would be surrounded by people that loved them dearly.

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