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johnny-freaking-silverhand · 3 years

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Hospitality

Goro Takemura x V

Word Count: 1465

“Thank you again, V, for letting me stay at your apartment” Takemura thanked you once again as you both stepped into your apartment, the front door sliding shut behind you.

“No problem, it was starting to depress me, seeing you all dishevelled. And I’m dying, so that’s saying a lot” you teased playfully.

Sure, you really hadn’t cared about his situation in the beginning. You hadn’t understood why he helped you in the first place and you just wanted to distance yourself from Arasaka, but you had been spending some time with him recently and…well, he wasn’t awful. He had become a friend, you enjoyed having him around, and so helping each other out didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

“…I am sorry, I hope we find a way to fix this. For both of us” he sounded sincere, his opinion on you must have changed over your time working together as well.

“It’s alright. You just have to joke about these things, y’know?” you shrugged.

“That is an interesting way to look at it” Takemura nodded in understanding, or at least like he was trying to understand you.

“Anyway, you can use the shower, it’s just through there, and you can crash on the couch” you offered, gesturing towards the bathroom.

“You are very generous” he nodded again, clearly grateful for your hospitality.

“You’re welcome here anytime; you need a place to stay and you don’t seem like the type to make a mess” you assured him. If you can share a body with Johnny Silverhand, you can occasionally share an apartment with Goro Takemura, the latter seems less disruptive.

“Thank you” he thanked you one last time before heading towards the bathroom, his bag of belongings in his hand.

“Hold on” you called out to him, making him turn back to you. “Do you want me to grab a pizza or something?” you asked.

“A pizza? No…no” Takemura certainly didn’t sound pleased by the offer. “How about you let me cook?” he suggested.

“You want to cook?” you asked, squinting at him curiously.

“It’s the least I can do, since you are letting me use your apartment” it sounded like a kind offer, but you were still curious.

“Yeah, well, I guess you technically saved my life so let’s just say we’re even” you shrugged, letting him know that he didn’t need to do any more to earn your hospitality.

“…let me cook” he insisted, making you smirk a little in amusement.

“Alright, just say that you’re too good for pizza or street food and I’ll let you cook” you reasoned, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him.

“That’s not what I am suggesting…” Takemura unconvincingly defended himself.

“Just say it” you prompted.

“…please just let me cook” he sighed.

“Fine” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “But I can’t cook to save my life so I haven’t got anything. Give me a list and I’ll go grab what you need while you shower” you offered.

“Very well” Takemura agreed before sending you a list of items he would need. With that, you headed back out while he disappeared into your bathroom.

The shopping trip was relatively short, you managed to find everything he asked for, or at least a suitable substitute, and you were back home before you knew it. Stepping back into the apartment, you saw Takemura sitting on your couch, his damp hair tied up in his usual bun. You actually found yourself wondering what he would look like with his hair down…

“Got everything you needed, this better be good” you told him with a smile.

“It will be. I promise” Goro assured you, standing from the couch and walking up to you to collect his requested groceries.

As Takemura cooked in your little kitchenette, you watched on from the couch. It had been a while since anyone cooked in that kitchen, maybe you would warm things up from time to time, but that kitchen had never seen a proper meal be made.

Though, admittedly, your attention was more on the man than the cooking. Takemura was focused on the task at hand, the sleeves of his shirt folded up to his elbows, the top few buttons undone, and his still damp hair tied up in a bun. He seemed relaxed when he was cooking, which was nice to see.

You didn’t even notice at first when Johnny materialised beside you, until he spoke. “Stop giving the damn suit heart eyes, it’s embarrassing” he complained, groaning at you.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, obviously not speaking out loud but you did glance over at him. The Rockerboy was sitting on the other end of the couch, looking at you in a mix of annoyance and disappointment.

“You couldn’t be more obvious. All he has to do is look at you, and you go all mushy on the inside” Johnny scoffed.

“I do not” you protested.

“I feel everything you feel, remember?” he reminded you that you couldn’t really hide anything from him, annoyingly.

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the kitchenette.

“So, for my sake, don’t fuck him” he said bluntly.

“Johnny!” your eyes widened slightly as you looked back at him, but he just smirked before flickering out of sight. Bastard, couldn’t he leave you alone for five minutes?

It wasn’t too long before dinner was ready and you and Takemura were sitting together on the couch and eating.

“What do you think?” he eventually asked, seeing that you seemed to be enjoying the meal.

“Not bad” you hummed before taking another bite.

“Not bad?” he raised an eyebrow at you, clearly your answer wasn’t satisfying enough for him.

“Alright, fine, it’s really good” you confessed with a small laugh. “I didn’t know you could cook” you looked at him with a small smile.

“Well, why would you know that?” he asked.

“That’s fair” you chuckled. It wasn’t like you had known him for that long, and you certainly didn’t know him before the death of Arasaka. “I guess I just thought you would’ve had someone to cook for you when you worked for Arasaka” you admitted.

“I did at times, but I preferred to cook for myself during my free time” Takemura told you, and you found yourself interested in learning more about him.

“I can’t imagine you had much of that” you hummed.

“It was very rare. Protecting the head of Arasaka was a full time duty” he nodded, taking another bite of his food.

“And now you’re crashing on my couch. Our lives really just flipped upside down on the same day, didn’t they?” you asked with a small, humourless, laugh.

“I suppose they did” Takemura hummed before lifting his gaze from his food and looking at you. “So, it is good that we became friends. We can help each other” he gave you a small smile.

“The unlikeliest of friends” you chuckled. Never would you have thought you would befriend a loyal Arasaka bodyguard, or anyone on Arasaka’s paylist for that matter. But here you are.

“Very much so” there did seem to be a sense of light-heartedness between you both now, despite the difficult predicaments that you both found yourselves in.

“Well, I’ll drink to that” you flashed him a smile before leaning over to the coffee table, picking up your drink. “Cheers” you held up the glass.

“Cheers” Takemura repeated as he lifted up his own glass, letting you clink yours against his, before you both took a sip.

After eating, you and Takemura shared the task of washing up. You had offered to do it since he cooked but he insisted on it since he was you were letting him stay here, and so you both ended up doing it. All while Johnny sat beside the sink, giving a running commentary on your conversation with Goro. The talking brain parasite was working your last nerve, commenting on your friendship with a corpo reject, and repeatedly telling you how this was a date no matter how many times you denied it and explained the real situation to him.

By the time you were finished cleaning up, it was late, and you were both tired. So, you grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, letting him set up a makeshift bed on your couch. You got changed in the bathroom, since it was the only separate room in the apartment, before climbing into your bed and making yourself comfortable.

“Night, Goro” you spoke out into the dark, just about able to his figure laying on the couch that was positioned on the wall opposite your bed.

“Goodnight, V” he responded before you both tried to get some decent sleep.

PART 2

#goro takemura x reader #goro takemura x v #takemura x v #takemura x reader #goro takemura #cyberpunk 2077 #My writing

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

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Not a Summer Crush Part Seven

a/n: It's heeeeere! The night before my classes start for the fall. There's a timeskip from the previous part-- Caroline, Alex, and Casey have all been together for about a month and it's the transition between fall and summer. This one features fighting and humor and lots of Jack McCoy. Any and all feedback makes my world!

Part Seven

The weeks passed in late nights spent in the same office, in morning lattes and afternoon runs (that often ended in the kinds of showers that don’t save water, with the almost frantic pulling off of clingy clothing, with breathy “god yes”-es and rushing to the door when either of you heard Alex’s key in the lock). Jack McCoy noted with pride how efficient it appeared your bureau had become since the summer started.

It was important to maintain a good amount of discretion. As progressive as the world may be becoming, you knew that the DA’s office had to keep up appearances; that it wouldn’t be good for you, and Jack (and, by extension, you again) for the media to get wind of your relationship. Besides, you wanted to keep it personal, special.

But oh. The thrill of the honeymoon phase is so irresistible.

A Friday night, one where the air began to have the kind of bite that previewed the coming fall, found you and Alex together in a candlelit restaurant waiting for Casey to join you. You had some sense, choosing a place not normally frequented by the Hogan Place set, in the opposite direction from your apartment. You set your glass of wine beside Alex’s and took her hand in yours, above the table this time. You couldn't resist leaning in, kissing her softly.

“Caroline,” she said as you pulled away, smiling at you with the same look you’d first seen months ago, that you hadn’t known was what it was until you’d seen it over and over as she pulled you tighter into her arms.

“Alex,” you said, enticingly, all but batting your eyelashes. She ran her fingers along yours in apology. “I know,” you said, placing your hands back on the table, leaning back against the booth seat. “We could always meet Casey when she gets to your place,” you said, looking at your phone. “Except she’s almost here.”

Alex laughed lightly. “You’re insatiable,” she scolded you, teasingly. You shrugged, knowing it was accurate. “And I’m hungry.” She picked up her menu.

Across the room, around the corner, sitting at a single table, Jack McCoy returned his focus to his book, trying to convince himself he hadn’t seen what he thought he did.

---

Jack was on high alert at the office. He had been too far away, he couldn’t be sure. And it was such an out of the way place-- he went there when he didn’t want every law student and defense attorney on the island to vie for a piece of his ear. So it couldn’t’ve been them, Jack thought. Who am I kidding? That’s exactly the kind of place they’d go. After all-- Jack knew from affairs.

He wouldn’t have expected this of Alex Cabot, knowing how in love she and Casey were. Though, now he considered the possibility, the two of you seemed to gravitate towards one another in a characteristic way. He remembered seeing her hand linger on your shoulder a beat too long in the courthouse hallway.

Who knows, he’d always expected Mike and Connie would go for it one day, and they still hadn’t. When Erika Keller and Anna Mikhailova had filed their disclosure he could’ve sworn he’d needed to get his eyes checked, having heard the way the two of them could argue. Maybe he wasn’t the best judge of things. Because I’m looking for myself in other people. He leaned in his chair. He’d do the introspection later. For now, he’d do what he could to keep one of his bureau chiefs out of a public scandal. Besides, they were too far away. It could’ve been anybody’s curls bouncing in laughter, could’ve been anyone’s impeccable posture. He hoped.

He made a point that Monday around noon to personally stop by the junior office on your floor, but found only Nick Anderson (who, he remembered, he needed to talk to about a possible change of bureaus) with his head buried in a journal.

“Mr. McCoy,” he said as soon as he realized he wasn’t alone, snapping the book shut harder than he needed to. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Nick,” Jack said, a little disappointed that he’d roused the guy from what was clearly riveting reading. “I was just looking for Caroline.”

Anderson’s face fell. Evidently, he was used to that line of inquiry. Poor guy. McCoy remembered the days when he’d given the least helpful junior ADAs piles of nothing to keep them out of his hair. No obvious changes, Jack noticed as he looked around your side of the office. No notes or photos or out-of-the-ordinary gifts. Though, someone needs to show this woman the value of an organized space, he thought. It’d be hard to notice anything among the pile of papers.

“Mr. McCoy?” he heard Anderson say.

“Yeah?” he replied, somewhat irritated.

“Oh um,” he said, what little confidence he had faltering. “I just said she was in Ms. Cabot’s office, sir.”

Jack’s stomach dropped. That may as well be “step one” in the old Jack McCoy playbook, get her in your space as often as possible. Oh come on, Jack. She’s her boss. They’re probably going over witness statements. Right. And how many witness statements did Sally and I review together while I was still going home to Ellen? He swallowed. “Thank you. And you don’t need to ‘sir’ me anymore. You’ve earned your desk.”

“Yes s-- got it, Mr. McCoy.” Anderson returned to his book. Jack continued down the hall.

---

“You really think she’s being honest?” Alex’s question was audible through her slightly-open door.

“She’s our witness!” you said, matching her tone. Somehow, the mood in the office was light even in your disagreement.

“Witnesses lie,” Jack said, surprising the both of you as he nudged his way in the room.

“When it’s in their best interest,” you said, acknowledging him with a nod in his direction. Jack liked how you didn’t let etiquette get in the way of your arguments. “Alex,” you said, pointing your gaze at her. I know that look. “What good does it do her to lie about who she was with?”

Alex fired right back at you, not bringing McCoy into the conversation. “She avoids embarrassment? Guilt? Fear? I’m not putting her on the stand unless we can verify her testimony.”

“Then we’re looking at an acquittal,” you said dryly.

“Because I won’t suborn perjury? O ye of little faith,” Alex responded. Jack caught a playful lilt in her voice. He was liking this less and less with each piece of evidence he uncovered.

“Do you know for certain she’s lying?” Jack said, breaking the intensity in the room.

“No, but--” Alex said.

“Exactly--” you said at the same time.

“Are you certain she’s telling the truth?” He asked. “This is People v Buckman?” he clarified. Alex nodded. You pushed an offending curl out of your eyes. “I would probably put her on the stand,” you smirked, “and when defense -it’s Elsie Campbell, right?- I’d have no recourse when defense tears her story to pieces.” You shrugged, never minding being the first to concede defeat.

“I’ll see if Detective Rollins is up for a coffee break,” you said, grabbing your phone and attache, but, Jack noticed, leaving your cardigan hanging on the extra hook. “Sometimes I wish I’d stayed in California,” you said, “reciprocal discovery would be pretty sweet.”

“Ouch,” Alex said as you walked out of the office. You waved a hand over your shoulder.

“Did you need something, Jack?” Alex asked, glad she’d known him long enough to be casual.

“Nothing,” he lied, and when she looked puzzled, said, “I was actually checking on the Buckman case.”

“I’m in no need of supervision,” Alex said under her breath. “Anything else I can clarify for you?”

Tell me I’m wrong about this, he thought. “No,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve got it under control.”

---

Of course, if Jack McCoy had been a more athletically inclined man, he may have run into you and Casey in the park two days before the restaurant, cooling down from the 5 and a half miles you’d done. He may have seen you tug on the hem of Casey’s tank top, seen her whisper something in your ear that made you blush and laugh, he may have caught the split second her lips met your jawline, seen the two of you heading off for the subway together.

And if he’d seen that first he may have tried to convince himself that it was another red ponytail and another person’s graceful lines. That there were so many people who jogged in that park, that it couldn't have been you.

He would’ve made a point to stop by the juniors’ office, maybe earlier in the day. Nick Anderson would’ve told him you were in Casey’s office and his stomach would’ve dropped. That may as well be “step one” in the old Jack McCoy playbook, get her in your space as often as possible. Oh come on, Jack. She’s her boss. They’re probably preparing for an admissibility hearing. He’d remind himself to schedule a meeting with Anderson for the end of the week.

He’d continue down the hall to find you and Casey sitting together, wordlessly handing one another documents highlighted in different colors. He’d remember the last time he was that in sync with an assistant and an undeniable flutter of recognition would’ve hit him.

But he hadn’t been in the park.

---

Your phone buzzed on the counter. You dried your hands quickly on the dishtowel, you turned off the tap. In the living room, Ashley was gathering the toys and books scattered about. Ramin was late at the office.

1 new message from: Alex to: you, Casey:

Alex: I just had quite the meeting with Jack.

---

“You wanted to see me, Jack?” Alex said, entering his office after most of the lawyers had gone home or

retreated to their own offices for the night.

“Actually, I’d really rather I didn’t need to,” he said. Alex’s concern showed on her face.

“Is this about the Buckman case? I know it’s going to be extra time to look into her statement,

but I really think this could be a break in the case, if she’s telling the truth or lying, so I thought it was justified. I could probably still make the argument without her, but it feels worth it--”

“No, the case is fine. Besides, it’s your case. I-- Alex we need to talk about… it’s maybe a more personal issue,” Jack said, shifting his hands’ position on the desk in front of him.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Are you speaking as my boss or as my friend?” Jack melted, remembering that they were friends, and that he could approach the topic as a friend. Though, usually, he wouldn’t have to confront a friend about their romantic life. Or if he did, it wouldn’t have professional repercussions. Electoral repercussions, he heard a younger, more emotional version of himself say to Adam Schiff 20 years ago. Sorry, Adam.

“Both, I hope, now that you mention it.”

Alex paused a moment, considering what to say. She had an idea what Jack was getting at, but no idea how he had come to that conclusion. He probably has some kind of sixth sense, she thought. “Start as my boss.”

Jack took a deep breath. “OK. I’ll tell you something Adam Schiff told me when I was in your position,”

Alex felt the need to stop him, to find out exactly what he thought he knew. “Wait. Before you reprimand me. What position am I in? What do you think I’m doing?”

“Jesus, Alex. What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. She didn’t answer him. “You’re having an affair with Caroline Haley.” He wasn’t asking her a question, and the disappointment in his voice was wounding. Alex took a deep breath. “You’re not going to deny it?”

“What makes you think we’re having an affair?” She was determined to out-wit him, get him to show her all his evidence before letting go of anything he was unaware of. Under New York law it is the prosecution’s responsibility to disclose any exculpatory evidence, she thought. And a lawyer who represents herself still has a fool for a client.

Jack looked at her blankly. Was she really going to make him spell it out? Well, he’d missed presenting cases. “I’ve noticed that she spends a lot more time in your office than her own,” he started. Alex’s poker face remained unchanged. “Your conversational style is, quite, amiable, ah,”

She couldn’t suppress a smile, then, biting back a laugh. “My apologies,” she said. “All you have as proof of this alleged affair is friendly conversation and spending time together?”

Jack tried to play into her humor. “I’ll remind you Ms. Novak Cabot,” he said, using her married name to see if it got a reaction (no luck), “that adultery is still a class B misdemeanor in the state of New York.”

Alex snatched that opportunity. He opened the door, your honor. “And how many three-month stays do you owe the good people of New York, Mr. McCoy?” He looked caught-out. The upper hand was hers. “Are you sure you’re not just seeing your old habits?”

“You know, it’s funny you should say that. Because after this coming election, I was going to ask you to be my EADA. But you know I can’t do that if there is even the slightest appearance of impropriety.”

“So this is about election results? You and I both know my patience for politics is--”

“Limited, yes. But don’t tell me you’re not the slightest bit interested.”

“I’d have to think about it, Jack,” she said honestly. It seemed to surprise him, which didn’t surprise her. He seemed to forget, often, that she’d arguably done much more important work (and he seemed to forget that Tracey Kibre had turned down the same position more than once, that some people enjoyed seeing their partners and the insides of their apartments every once in a while). “But that’s not why you wanted to talk to me, and you’ve yet to convince me that you have any idea about any affair.”

“Where were you last Friday evening?” Jack asked her, in full cross-examination confidence.

Alex flinched, her first misstep since she’d come in. She wasn’t going to out-right lie to him if disguising the truth would do. However he knew this (if he knew anything), she had no way of knowing how much he knew. “I had dinner with Caroline at a restaurant near her apartment in Brooklyn.”

“A working dinner?”

“I can’t be friends with my colleague?”

“Trilogy isn’t a particularly platonic place as far as I know,”

“You spied on me outside of work?”

“I happened to be there,” Jack said. Alex rolled her shoulders back, trying to let go of some of the anger she had at what felt like an invasion of her privacy, even if it had been public. “I saw her kiss you, Alex. I know.” Alex didn’t answer him. Jack, uncomfortable with the silence, said “I really do understand. I sympathize with what you’re going through, I know it isn’t easy.”

Her frustration gathered itself in her cold fingertips that she realized were gripping the arms of her chair, hard. “Actually, you don’t understand,” she said, quietly, as politely as she could. “You have an incomplete picture of the nature of our relationship.” Jack opened his mouth to argue. “I won’t say any more,” Alex said, certain, “except that Caroline has done absolutely nothing wrong, and if you go after her about any of this, you will have my resignation.” Jack nodded.

“You understand how something like this could look to the public? You understand that your position is at stake?”

“I understand.”

“I mean, just the power dynamic alone, disregarding the infidelity, and I hate to say it, but you know how rampant homophobia still is.” She clenched her jaw, but she didn’t look guilty.

“I know. Now, I’d like you to be my friend for a moment,” she said. “Please.”

He smiled weakly.

“As your friend, I’d tell you not to cheat on your wife,” Jack said. Alex looked serene.

“I won’t,” she said, rising from her seat. “Goodnight, Jack.” She left faster than he could return the sentiment. He’d hoped he had more comforting things to say. And he wanted to know what on earth she’d meant by “the nature” of their relationship. He trusted she’d take extra care now that she knew he knew. It was not going to be a fun secret to keep.

---

She didn’t tell you what the meeting was about, so you knew it couldn’t have gone well. Quite the meeting. You hoped it wasn’t what you thought it was. You said you’d be there soon. You moved through the apartment quickly, leaving the last of the dishes in the sink, snagging your keys off the hook, tossing them along with your phone into your backpack.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Ashley asked. You knew he’d been looking forward to catching up on episodes of The Bachelor, and you did hate to disappoint him. You looked up from tying your shoes.

“Alex and Casey’s,” you said. His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” He rolled his eyes. “What?” you asked. “You can watch without me, you know, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t care about the show,” he said, returning to his tidying.

You stood up, crossing your arms. “Something you want to say?” He shrugged.

“No, no. Go have fun,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a whole lot of fun,” you said, trying to keep the worry buried. “Alex texted, she said that Jack had called her into his office this evening over something.”

“That surprises you?” Ashley said, his voice high-pitched.

You looked at him with your eyes wide. “I’m sorry?” you said, resisting the urge to raise your voice.

“What did you think was going to happen, Caroline?” he said, with a patronizing look that made your stomach turn.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you said. Two could play at passive aggression.

Ashley laughed bitterly. “I mean, did you not think twice before risking your job, everything you’ve worked towards to be what, the third wheel in a relationship that existed far before you came across it?”

“Ashley,” you warned him.

“I thought you were trying to work on the self-sabotage, I mean, you’ve never even been in a relationship before,”

“That’s not exactly true,” you said. You were starting to feel nauseous. He knew you well enough to know that he was pushing right on all your insecurities.

“That lasted more than a couple months, then, which is hardly anything.”

“I think we’ve gone over that a couple times-- Just because you’re so morally invested in monogamy doesn’t mean it’s for everyone--”

“You really want to be the girl who sleeps with the boss? No, sorry, the girl who sleeps with both of the bosses?”

“It’s-- wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

It was quiet for a moment as the two of you dared the other person to talk first.

“I just don’t think you’re making the best decision,” he said.

“I thought you were happy for me,” you replied, and walked out the door.

---

You didn’t usually ride your bike after dark. It felt right, though, as you went, releasing your nervous (and sad, and angry) energy out through the pedals. Your arms came up in goosebumps, from the chill in the air or the trepidation in your spine. It started to rain.

---

You and Alex arrived almost simultaneously. She was accepting a cup of tea that Casey was offering her when you came in. You were a walking cliché with your hair stuck to the side of your face, shivering. “Hi,” you said, shakily. You hadn’t quite been crying. The insecure part of you felt small, out of place, intrusive: they had this cozy, tidy, warm apartment, mugs of hot tea in their hands; and you were shattering it with the chaos that followed in the wake of your personal life. You were being so selfish, so inconsiderate, bringing your own emotional baggage with you despite Alex being the one having a hard time. For a split second you thought about leaving with no explanation, dashing out almost as soon as you shut the door. Casey held up a mug for you. It was one of a matching set of three.

“Jack thinks we’re having an affair,” Alex said, matter-of-fact, as you slipped out of your shoes and made your way to the counter Casey was leaning against. Alex was pacing, slowly, how she often did when she was figuring something out. You took a sip of your tea, grateful for the warmth, then set it on the counter and rested your head on Casey’s shoulder. She jumped and you laughed, the relief spreading through you. She squirmed as you pressed closer, letting out a squeak at the feeling. You let her go, listening to the quiet creaking of the floor.

“Which us?” you asked, matching the seriousness of the subject again. “All of us?”

“Just you and I,” Alex said.

“How did he come to that conclusion?” Casey asked, knowing there were equal cases to be made for any combination.

Alex stopped moving, pushing herself up to sit on the counter opposite to you. “To begin, he was apparently at Trilogy last Friday night.” The goosebumps threatened to make a repeat appearance. This was your fault.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, your eyes lost in your teacup. “I was reckless.” Out of the corner of your eye, you felt Apollo the duck stare at you accusingly with the stone cold eyes he didn’t have.

“Don’t be sorry. I was there too,” Alex said, meeting your gaze as you looked up. “He didn’t stick around long enough to see Casey.”

“What did you end up telling him?” Casey asked, letting herself be the problem-solver for the night.

“Very little,” she said. “He doesn’t have the complete story. That he should hold off on any judgements unless and until he did.”

“Did it work?” you asked.

“Well enough, I think. You don’t need to worry about your job. I threatened him with my resignation if he said a word to you about it.” Your heart beat faster. Sacrifices for your sake, or the offer of them, made you uneasy.

“You don’t have to put your career on the line for me,” you said, the same shaky tone edging into your voice again. Alex blinked at you, like it was no big deal, like it was the obvious choice. Casey traced circles on your shoulder blade.

“Nobody’s career is at risk, Caroline,” Casey said. “Honestly, imagine the kind of headlines that would break if Jack McCoy fired someone for adultery.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Alex said, “Jack’s disapproval right now, or how he might react if we just told him what’s going on. He made it clear his objection had more to do with poll numbers than morality.” Ashley’s words echoed in your head. You really want to be the girl who sleeps with the boss-- both of the bosses? Your fear must have been more obvious than you intended. “What’s wrong?” Alex asked you.

You swallowed. “It’s nothing,” you said, stopping yourself from spilling every anxious thought that came to you. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine,” you said, a real smile making its way out of you. You held your hand out for Alex’s and squeezed. She slid off the counter, letting herself be pulled in, letting whatever you weren’t saying stay unsaid for that moment. She also jumped when she first felt your wet clothes against her skin.

“Now, let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” she said. Your mouth was open in amusement as she started off down the hall. You began to follow but Casey stopped you briefly, hooking her ring finger into your belt loop.

“Whatever he said, it isn’t true,” she said, starting to run her warm hands underneath your shirt.

“How did you,” you said, feeling seen. “I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Give me some credit,” she said then kissed you gently, her body warming yours. “I’m very perceptive.” She gripped the bunched-up body of your t-shirt and you slipped your head through the top. Casey placed her palms against your ribs, holding you steady.

“Thank you,” you said, deep and low, as you kissed her again. The two of you, now almost equally damp, joined Alex. Six hands moved slowly, purposefully. Nothing felt desperate, fleeting. Only warmth filled you.

---

taglist: (I'm tagging a couple of my moots who aren’t on the taglist, let me know if you’d prefer I didn’t!)

@addictedtodinosaurs @nocreditinthestraightworld @cmmndrwidw @hi-i-1 @lesbianologist @readerhermit @@alexlivdoncas @laezzzi @imaginaryoperagloves (thank you for your help!!) @swimmingstudentchaos891

#Alex cabot #casey novak #calex #casey x Alex #calex x eader #Alex cabot x reader #casey Novak x reader #not a summer crush #law & order: svu #svu #svu fanfic #jack mccoy #this was the most fun I’ve had with this fic since ch. 3 lmao #comment on ao3 if you love me #Oh emi never stop posting fics at 2 am #also: I kind of hate the last line of this so. Enjoy #this should be the second to last chapter I think?#The girls r fighting tho :( by which I mean ash and Caroline

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kimjihyun-archive · 3 years

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(it’s still me) I ask for 14 with jihyun please 🥳🥳 (I am prepared mentally to die)

desperation | jihyun kim

WARNINGS: mentions of rika, and stabbing, they’re in the hospital, she’s a lil angry for a moment, kissing??? idk

WORD COUNT: 1.8k (a doozy baybee)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i’m so sorry for this. i love writing soft v with all of my being, but i think there’s a point where the patience with him has to wear thin and he has to be told that this, though understandable, is wrong and he deserves to think better of himself.

She decides tonight, that she hates hospital rooms.

Whether it be the white walls, or the lingering scent of alcohol, or the way the machines whirl around his chest—it makes her sick—a night in the room feeling disturbingly like an eternity. She already can’t sleep—her eyes trained on each breath that spills from his lungs, something sinister in her telling her that it’ll be his last, but the stark white color that swallows the room makes it almost impossible.

Her fingers have been twisting his for almost an hour. She traces shapes into the back of his hand, haphazard polygons that follow the grooves of his knuckles. She doesn’t know if he can feel it, but, god, she can.

She can feel the way his hands have carried so much for him. Every callous, every freckle—every long day in the sun and prickling of evening air. Something lingers below his skin that she’s never felt in anyone before—perhaps she simply never wished to.

And she could kill him for this.

When she pleaded for freedom through hushed phone calls and he whispered words of escape, she never expected this. When he promised to take her away from that room in the middle of the mountains, to save her from his faults, she imagined being snatched away in the night—a quiet affair that could never be detected.

She should’ve known better than to think things could lean so far towards her way. She should’ve known that Rika, bathing in the light of the forest moon, silver knife in hand, would never let them go so easily. She should’ve known that escape could only lead to jagged scars, and rushed surgeries, and the plaguing smell of this room.

There’s a flash behind her eyes then, a bright red, the only one that could possibly counter the whites of his sheets. It’s the red that soaked through his jacket as she stumbled upon him in the grass. It’s the red that stained her fingers as he crumbled in her lap in the car. It’s the red that she clawed at under the soapy water of the dingy sink in the bathroom until her hands grew raw.

This room is too white, its floors too clean, his breaths too mechanically settled. It’s too calm and too quiet and everything in her head is screaming for him to wake up. She wants to shake him, to dig blunt nails into his shoulders until his eyes grow wide open—until she can spot the vibrant blues the flicker at his irises.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

And yet, V’s eyes remain closed—the lids are slotted so softly over what she yearns to see. The gentle mechanical hum that bellows from his chest is still there, as strong as it was a moment ago. The room remains still—no matter the efforts of her pounding skull, no matter how much she wills him to feel the aching breath of life, it’s quiet.

A part of her, some small, cynical part, wishes so badly hate him. He claimed to never be one for theatrics but this is the kind of dramatization that clings to her skull so tightly that it no longer feels real. And yet, this reality that sits in front of her is much too strong to deny.

She can’t verbalize how she wishes to hear his voice again. How she yearns for the smiles so small that she’d rarely catch them—his denial of meriting each one so clear. The words tug at her vocal cords but something halts them in her throat. Perhaps the worry that they’d fall upon deaf ears. Perhaps the fear of admitting them at all.

Instead, her fingers continue to run across his knuckles, each breath tangling in her mouth. Her eyelids fall heavy—not with exhaustion, but with a sudden, disgusting compliance to the room. She leans forward in her chair, her forehead resting against his arm with a delicacy she’s never quite felt before—with a need for something, anything, that resembles him when he’s alive and well.

Then, a groaning of the mattress.

She lingers for a moment, too afraid that the only sounds in front of her are a new gasp of the equipment, but when she opens her eyes and his expression is contorted, the air is knocked from her chest.

She doesn’t dare speak a word, the stirring presence of him enough to leave her body tingling and numb. His eyes are closed, but there’s a lively flutter behind them, one that seizes the will for life that she clung to so heavily earlier.

Her grasp on his arm tightens and the muscle sputters. It’s the most she’s seen from him since he was wheeled into the operating room and, surprisingly enough, it’s the most she needs for heat to bloom within her chest.

Her name is the first thing to consciously stumble from his lips, a morph of word that’s not quite right but not quite wrong either. It’s quiet and clumsy, but also the only thing she wishes to hear.

“V?” Her voice echos off of stark walls and slowly, his eyes open. They’re duller than she remembered—bloodshot and heavy with the tug of unconsciousness—but they still pool vibrant blues and soft cerulean together—an unmistakable liveliness deep beneath the surface.

“You’re okay,” he says.

Ease seems to settle within his shoulders at the sight of her and something within her aches to laugh. He’s worried about her—even in an entanglement of wires and tubes—but of course he is. He’s always worried about her.

“I am,” she replies through a chuckle. “But more importantly, so are you.” The machines still buzz in a way that tears at her ears, but there’s a smile stretching across his cheeks and an unmistakable warmth bellowing throughout her chest.

Her fingers halt in rubbing his hands, but with the most energy he can muster, he’s quick to snatch her wrist. The dead weight of his hand was comforting while the hum of machinery was the only hint of his liveliness, but it’s nothing compared to this. His fingertips are calloused, and yet so soft against her palms—the pads of his thumb tracing each line etched into her skin.

“I should call Jumin and let him know you’re awake,” she mutters. “He’s been pacing around here for hours, but I told him to go home and rest for a while. This room can drive you insane.”

His face seems to fall at the sound of that, but she keeps her gaze heavy on him in an attempt to make him feel a little less burdened.

No, no, this was easy—watching your body rise with breaths that were never your own. Please, don’t worry about me—or Jumin either. He’s fine too; he was only trying to call every doctor in the country if it meant keeping you alive.

She tries to shift from her chair then, but his grip tightens.

“Wait, can you—” There’s a desperation in his voice, one she hates that she recognizes. “Can you stay for a little while?”

The last time he spoke that way, he was curled into scratchy cotton sheets of the cabin, begging her to let him give himself to RIka.

“She’s not going to stop until she has me,” he’d pleaded.

“She’s not going to stop, period, V,” she’d retorted, lips drawn tightly into a frown.

She hates to say that she was right, but glancing at the bandages wound around his chest and that sorrowful gleam in his eyes, god, she was. She hopes he knows that too. That maybe the cotton-wound stitches and smell of rubbing alcohol are enough to show him that Rika craves so much more than revenge.

“Yeah, of course.” She settles back down into the chair, scooting it closer to the bed, the knowledge that one Jumin Han might very well kill her for making him wait dull in her mind.

V’s chest rattles and he sucks a breath through his nose, his thumbs making their up way up her wrist. Half of her wants to curse him for making her head spin at his touch, but the other half, the better half, leans into it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She laughs, a snide little sound that pours from her lips, and his mouth hangs open in curiosity.

“I just… I just wished you would’ve listened to me for a second.” Her voice is poison dripping off of her tongue, but the gentleness behind it is still so evident that she hates herself for it. She hates that she can’t stomach scolding him. She hates that she understands.

“I know, I know, I let you down and I let the RFA down and I should’ve handled it mysel—” The chair slides out under her, squealing against the tile, her fingers holding the side of his face and suddenly—

She kisses him.

Her lips find his with a heaviness that neither of them had expected. A passion she’d never felt before burns in the back of her throat, and though his skin is nearly frigid, her entire body grows warm.

His shoulders grow stiff, but he never pulls away, never hesitates to kiss her back. Something terribly needy grows between the two of them, but there’s an encasement of wires and tubes that halts her there, so she pulls back—breathing so intensely that the air burns into her lungs.

“V.” She doesn’t bother to move away, their faces so close that she can feel his breath dotting her neck. She can see that brilliant blue now—the one that she’d pleaded so intensely for. His eyes are blown wide, a redness blooming at his cheeks, but his irises are still speckled with striking cerulean—a contrast so disgustingly bright against the whites of the room. “Please.”

She doesn’t have to say any more before he nods, his lips falling shut. He gets it, god, she’s thankful that he gets it. The room still lingers with that recognizable hospital smell, leaving a pricking at the bottom of her stomach, but he’s here and he’s safe and she can feel the tingling of his lips on her own.

She hates hospital rooms.

She hates them when she pushes the chair back into place. She hates them when she dials Jumin’s number, and she hates them when she watches the guilt settle so deep into V’s chest that it burns. But he smiles at her, so kind, and bright, and sorrowful that she can’t find it in herself to leave him, no matter how much he urges her to.

So, she takes his hand and kisses his knuckles, and hopes to god that this last time she has to be here. Hopes to god that he, after everything, will remember the startling silver of Rika’s knife and the ache in his chest, and he’ll listen.

#jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #v x reader #jihyun kim x mc #v x mc #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fanfic #hunterelys

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jentrevellan · 3 years

Text

I'm so happy to finally share my fic for @dasmutquisition! I had so much fun with this one, it's unreal. I hope you enjoyed @sumiIong

Rating: Explicit

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins

Relationship: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)

Characters: Alistair (Dragon Age), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Teagan Guerrin

Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Making Love, trapped together (sort of), strong woman, anxious Alistair, generic Cousland, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, newlyweds, Morning Sex, D in the V, Porn With Plot, Dorks in Love

Language: English

Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition

Summary: Alistair and the Warden spend the first night not only as husband and wife but as King and Queen.

Notes: Thank you @curiousthimble for being my beta!

Read on Ao3

Doin' the Fondue

The great hall in Denerim Castle was loud and filled to the rafters with people. Nobles, elves, dwarves and peasants alike were squeezed in, all clamouring to see the newly married couple. Up on the dais, overlooking the crowd that was slowly getting rowdier and rowdier with the ale and wine that continued to flow, Alistair - now King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden - slouched in his throne and took a gulp of wine.

He was terrified.

Oh, the ceremony had been a delight, and he had adored proclaiming his love in front of the Maker and the witnesses in the Chantry. But as soon as he had stepped into the hall for their wedding feast, his gut started churning. Because he knew what must come next after the merriment had ended.

He glanced at his wife beside him. His wife! Despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool at the thought of his Grey Warden companion, Lady Cousland, now being his wife. It didn’t seem wholly real. Indeed, most of his life the past year hadn’t seemed real. So much had changed, and now he was married.

Alistair took another sip of wine from his goblet and his new wife glanced at him, a small frown on her brow. She already knows me so well, he thought. No one else would be able to tell that anything was amiss, but she had always seen straight through him and knew when even the smallest thing was bothering him. One of the many traits he loved about her. Although it did mean that it was impossible to keep any sort of secret from her. Even the good kind of secrets.

As he picked at his food, his new wife and Queen accepted many gracious gifts from guests. All curtsied or bowed and she was most eloquent in her response. Truly, she was more prepared for this life as a monarch than him. Her noble upbringing was a far cry from how he was raised. But wherever his trepidation lay about ruling, he knew that with this woman beside him as his Queen, that he could do anything.

She laughed heartily at a joke Teagan was telling her, and he watched as she wiped away a tear. Alistair glowered at his uncle and reached out for his wife’s hand. She turned to him, a wide smile on her face, her cheeks flushed and her lips rosy from the wine.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

He nodded his head to Teagan. “Just wondering what was so funny…?”

She blushed prettily, and a jealous hand gripped his gut. He would not easily forget his uncle’s flirtations when he had first met them in Redcliffe, and ever since, a fit of strange jealousy and need to claim her as he always came about when he was in the presence of both her and Tegan.

Waving a jewelled hand, she shook her head. “It was nothing. Rather crude, actually, so I told him off for lowering the tone of our conversation at our wedding feast,” she replied, taking a sip of wine. “Now what’s the matter with you?”

“Me?” he repeated. “Nothing. Nothing is the matter with me at all. Absolutely nought.”

“Alistair,” she said seriously, leaning in close. Her tone made him want to listen, but her golden gown with its tight bodice had pressed her breasts pleasantly together and were well within his eye line that he couldn’t help but glance down. A treacherous blaze of desire coursed through him, and with her puckered lips, her brow furrowed in concern, he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and -

A chill went through him. He wanted her, oh yes, most desperately, but Tegan caught his eye and winked, and a shudder of repulsion went through him as he turned his head to see half of the court watching their interaction. He pulled away from his wife abruptly and reached for his goblet of wine, again and took a huge mouthful.

Ever the gracious lady, his wife smiled faintly and pretended that nothing had happened. But the look she quietly gave him as he peered at her over the rim of his goblet made his gut clench with guilt. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and he felt rotten about being the cause.

The dinner continued and as the servants were generous with topping up his wine, Alistair kept emptying his goblet. His wife, on the other hand, declined and stuck to watery lemonade and with dread, he realised that she was not drinking the same as him because it was expected that she needed to stay sober to conceive.

It was like a weight was pressing down on his chest, and he struggled to breathe, and it was getting worse as the evening wore on. Soon he stopped eating and drinking and just watched everybody that approached the dais to offer their congratulations or present gifts to the newlyweds. One item that was given to the new Queen was a selection of herbs which, as the kindly elderly noble had explained “would help the womb quicken”. Alistair had almost retched at her words, and instead began a small coughing fit, which required his wife to smack him firmly on the back a few times harder than she would’ve done normally.

At one point, a small child approached, dressed in a simple cotton tunic, as white as a cloud. Her hair was braided down her back and entwined with flowers. She stood before the queen who rose from her throne and leant over the table to adjust a flower in the girl’s hair. Alistair watched as his wife’s face lit up with warmth as she listened and spoke to the child. He wanted to give that to her. But… but…

“Let us bed them!” Tegan suddenly announced, and there was a scramble as the court got to their feet hurriedly, to be one of the select few to follow them to their chambers. The women reached the queen and she shot Alistair one swift look of alarm before resigning herself to their insistent tugs as they all but pushed her out of the room. Alistair followed with a group of noblemen, including his uncle.

“I bet you’re looking forward to this, m'boy,” Tegan grinned, falling into step beside Alistair, as they made their way through the halls of the castle.

“I don't know what you mean,” he replied flatly, his face feeling warm not just from the wine.

Tegan clapped him on the back. “You are one lucky man, my boy,” he said with a sigh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so quiet in all the time I’ve known you. Your mind has been elsewhere this evening - and I’m not the only one to notice.”

Dread tugged at him as he climbed the stairs. “Yes, you’re right and I’m sorry, but-”

“Sorry!” Tegan repeated with a snort. “You’ve no need to be sorry. Most men are as quiet as a mouse in anticipation of their wedding night. And one can’t certainly blame you: your wife is simply lovely.”

“Yes, thank you, Tegan,” Alistair ground out, shrugging his shoulder lose of his grip. But rather than be offended, the man laughed and Alistair clenched his fists. Never before had he been so tempted to knock his uncle around the head.

They arrived at his chamber door and inside more nobles awaited eagerly. The king’s bed had been arranged neatly, but there was no expectation for him to sleep there tonight. Instead, he eyed the connecting door where he knew his wife would be waiting for him, surrounded by the noblewomen.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked, looking around the room, but the men just laughed, and chatted, some making obscene gestures. He grimaced, hating the sheer manliness in the room. His manservant came forward to help him undress from his finery and removed his crown. Once he had been disrobed save for his smalls, he threw on his white cotton nightshirt and ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow.

There was a faint knock at the connecting door, and one of the servants hurried forward and exchanged whispers with the servant on the other side. Alistair paced anxiously and took a very keen interest in a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. The men around him were talking about absolute filth, and he squeezed his eye tight shut, in the vain hope that his ears would squeeze shut too.

Finally, the connecting door swung open and the servant stood aside. Alistair was rooted to the spot, fear coursing through him. Are these people… going to watch ? He thought with horror.

He was quite content with where he was until Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. “Nervous?” he said with a wink.

“Yes. No! I mean, no !” he said hurriedly, his face burning.

“There’s nothing to be scared about. She’s going to be a wonderful wife to you in so many ways…”

“Shut up,” Alistair groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. Honestly, he was this close to hurling Tegan out the window.

But before he could entertain that thought further, the men in his room were pressing him through the door and - oh Maker no - were also following him. He entered the queen's bed-chamber to find a gaggle of ladies with rosy cheeks flutter their lashes and lick their lips seductively at the men. But Alistair was anything but aroused when he finally turned to the large, four-poster bed, to see his wife and queen.

She was a perfect painting of innocence and virginity in crisp white sheets with a matching white nightdress. Her hair had been unbound and combed neatly and she sat as still as a statue, her back and posture absolutely perfect for a queen. The covers were pulled up to her lap, and her hands rested delicately entwined: her sparkling wedding ring the only jewellery that remained.

He refused to meet her eyes as he slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. He pulled the covers down amidst the chatting of the court and when he finally sat beside her, a good arms-length away from her, the court finally - finally - turned to leave. Several clapped, the women exchanged knowing looks with the queen, who smiled politely in return, and the men, now incredibly drunk, ambled from the room, wishing Alastair luck and reminding him of how lucky he was.

Finally, blessedly, the last person left the room and closed the door with a gentle click .

☆☆☆☆☆

To the new queen’s dismay, the first thing her new husband did as soon as the door had shut, was leap out of the bed as if he had been scalded. She frowned as he strode towards the door, and for an awful moment, she thought he was going to leave. But no: he reached to a small side table and found a key and locked the big oak door to her chambers, followed by locking the conjoining door from the king’s bedroom.

Still not saying anything, Alistar strode around the room, pulling open curtains and wardrobes, trunks and cabinets.

“What in the world are you doing?” she finally asked, her patience running thin. The man had barely spoken to her since their vows in the Chantry in the morning, and now he was examining every nook and cranny of her chambers?

He paused by her bookshelf and flicked her a glance over his shoulder. “Checking,” he replied, before shifting a few books.

“Whatever for?”

He sighed in exasperation. “To make sure that we are alone! Andraste’s arse, I thought they were going to stay at one point and watch to make sure we… we… erm…” he coughed and busied himself by peering under a chaise lounge.

She got out of bed and dropped to her hands and knees and looked under the bed. Thankfully, there was no one there, but she had to admit that the same fear had crossed her mind. Even though she knew that wasn’t the common practice, sometimes nobility did take things a bit too literally…

“We’re safe,” she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.”There’s no spy, no peephole, no nothing but us.”

Alistair finally stopped his fidgeting and turned to her from across the room. For the first time in a long time, they were utterly alone. Normally, they would’ve fallen into each other’s arms by now, but something was stopping her, and she could tell that something was also stopping him. They stood on opposite sides of her room, the bed imposing and glaring at them, whilst the distance between them felt as vast a chasm. And that was something neither of them had experienced before.

“Everything is different now, isn’t it?” she said quietly, looking down at her hands clasped before her.

Alistair also seemed to be studying his fingernails. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

She played with the hem of her pure white night-dress and frowned. Conversation with her now-husband had never been this stilted. So she switched tactic to one he would hopefully relax with: humour.

“You know, for a good ten minutes, I honestly thought they were all going to stay and watch,” she said with a wry smile. She knew they wouldn't - being brought up as a noble lady had earnt her some education in these things - but Alistair needed not to know that. For it worked:

“Maker! You did too?” he exclaimed, letting out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t think they would, but I began to doubt myself.”

She took a step towards him. “Hence your paranoia about spies?”

He nodded. “Yes, hence the… paranoia ,” he rolled his eyes at her choice of words, but there was a smirk on his lips, which made her heart soar.

The man she knew was peeking through, so she took another step closer. “It’s an archaic tradition anyway,” she said. “I know for a fact that they do not practice it in Orlais.”

Alistair snorted. “Perhaps the only redeeming factor of the Orlesians.”

“Hmm, that and the cheese,” she smiled and finally, finally , her new husband met her eyes.

They both burst into laughter and she saw his shoulders sag. She bit her lip and placed a hand on his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don't want to,” she said earnestly.

His face reddened. “But I do! I do want to! With you, that is! I just… it’s just…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he sought out the right words.

“The pressure of it all?” she supplied.

“Yes!” he gasped, relieved. “To know that we cannot come together unless it’s for a purpose. That purpose,” he mumbled, pointing to her stomach.

He was going inside himself again, so she took his hands in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Think of it this way… it’s for the good of the country that you fuck me senseless any time of day and night.”

Alistair spluttered at her bluntness but she just laughed as she slipped her hands from his and moved past him. There was a small table laden with food - to help keep up their energy for their excursions, no doubt - so she helped herself to a goblet of wine and poured one for her new husband. “You’re probably one of the only men in the world who can use that excuse,” she smiled, popping a grape in her mouth.

“You…” he grinned, walking over and taking the other goblet from her hand. “You are a minx.”

She pretended to be shocked. “You’ve only just realised? And here I thought you only married me because you knew I was.”

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled him to her, kissing the top of her head. “One of many, many many reasons,” he replied.

They stood content in silence, their thoughts elsewhere when she finally spoke again. “I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything we’re expected to do tonight.”

He gulped but nodded. “I… I know. And I appreciate that, but please don’t think it’s because I don’t want... need you,” he said quietly, his grip on her tightening.

“It’s not like we’ve not done it before,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “Even if this gown pretends to be evidence to the contrary.”

“Yes, and we have done it, many, many times…”

“And we will many more,” she confirmed, popping another grape in her mouth, the sweetness washing over her tongue. She turned to him: “but not tonight.”

“Thank the Maker I married you,” he murmured, downing the rest of his wine.

“But I do have a wicked idea…”

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

“We should take all of this food and eat it… in bed.”

He laughed, so genuine and delightful that her gut warmed pleasantly. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, his other hand grabbing the cheese board and marched over to the bed. He threw her down, and she tried to not be too aroused by the action, but her pert nipples through her night-dress gave her away. Determined to make sure Alistair was as happy as could be, she reached forward and pulled him onto the bed and instead of kissing him, grabbed a handful of cheese and squashed it into his mouth.

The King of Ferelden snorted with laughter as he tried to eat the cheese, before doing the same back at his new queen. He pecked her on the nose and rose to collect more food and wine, and soon they were sitting leaning against the headboard, a delectable spread of food between them. And they gorged.

☆☆☆☆☆

The sun peered through the lattice windows of the queen’s chamber. The light was white and bright and brought Alistair blinking out of his deep slumber, momentarily confused at his location. He looked up at the canopy above him and duly noted the olive green drapes of the Queen’s bed. He’d never slept in here and was momentarily disoriented until he remembered the day before.

In his arms, still and sound asleep, was his wife. Her hair was splayed on the pillow and tickled his nose. He couldn’t see her face, but today it felt more real: this woman who had become his friend and companion, lover and hero of Ferelden, was now his wife… his queen . He gently propped himself onto his elbow, so as not to wake her, and gazed down at her face, noting the way the sunlight accentuated her high cheekbones. This wonderful, beautiful and exquisite woman is my wife , he thought with quiet awe. His chest flipped with uncontained joy and gone was the trepidation of the night before.

He studied her face as she slept, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sighed contently in her sleep. He lay back down and pulled her close to him, tightening his grip on her, and burying his face in her neck, inhaling her intoxicatingly sweet scent. The silk nightdress was so smooth and thin, and his hands couldn’t help but wander up and down, his fingers gently brushing the material over her skin, like water. Without realising it, he found himself rutting against her arse, which was tucked up cosily to his groin. He tried to still himself, she's still asleep ! But his wandering hands could not be stopped as one slowly crept up her torso and cupped a breast. The shift was so thin, that he felt her nipple harden with the barest of touches and that’s when he realised that her hips were moving too.

He pushed himself up to an elbow again, and her eyes, dark and hooded with desire stared back at him. Her lips parted with a hitched breath and he flicked her nipple with his thumb. Moving his hand downwards, he swallowed her breathy moan as his fingers teased the hem of her smalls, mouth crashing down on hers in simple, uncontained desire.

They had not so much as kissed since they had said their wedding vows in the Chantry, he realised. And as his tongue licked her upper lip, he swore to himself that he would never leave it so long to kiss her again. Her mouth opened with a sigh and their tongues danced as he continued to rut, and she squirmed against him as his hand finally slipped into her smalls in search of her bud.

He stifled a groan as he found her hand already there, gently touching herself. His fingers joined hers whilst they moved their hips and she guided him with her hand. He slipped a digit inside of her and she gasped, squirming against his erection, straining against his smalls, and he pictured feeling her growing wetness around his cock. With impatience, he slid her nightdress up so she was exposed and he pulled his cock out and rubbed it blissfully between her cheeks. Her soft skin was as smooth as silk as he rocked his hips, gaining pleasant friction with her arse.

“More…” she whispered, as her fingers joined his, pumping inside her. And with his control waning, he obliged eagerly.

Alistair rolled her onto her back and pulled her hands over her head as he pinned her down. Her legs fell open for him, and as much as he wanted - no needed - to be inside her, Alistair knew what his lady wife needed more was to be spoiled. If it were up to him, the king would love to stay buried between his wife’s legs for the rest of his days, as her taste was so sweet. He trailed kisses down her neck, and her hips lifted up to meet his, and his resolve almost broke as her core was teased against his cock. But being a Warden had one excellent perk: incomparable stamina.

He continued down, kissing her heaving breasts as they rose and fell erratically with her breathing. Playing with one in his hand, he took her other nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, her perfect bud hard and round in his mouth. With his hand, he squeezed her other one tight, and had her gasping: but he was nowhere near done. He let go of her breast in his mouth with a pop and glanced up at her to see her mouth open and delicious, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. He grinned and kissed her stomach, then pulled back and positioned himself on his elbows, taking in the sight of her splayed out on the bed, rosy cheeks and breathy moans all for him. He pressed his lips to her knee, then with each kiss, his stubble tickled the inside of her thigh as he moved up her legs, finally reaching that gloriously warm and wet apex in between that was just begging for him to taste.

Desire surged through him and without wasting any more time, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and licked her dripping wet folds. She cried out in pleasure as he rolled his tongue over her, and her fingers grabbed his head, nails digging into his scalp as he worked his mouth. She tasted as good as she smelt, and her hips rose up to meet his mouth, jittering as she climbed higher to her peak. He wanted to spoil her because she deserved it and more. So he reached up with one hand and squeezed a breast and flicked a nipple again, loving the way her hips bucked in response. Her nails dug deeper into his scalp and raked his chestnut hair as his other hand kneaded her arse, lifting her up so he had the best angle to eat her out.

He teased and tortured her with his mouth, and finally sucked on her clit.

“Ah...ah...Alist-ah!” she cried out, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. He tasted her orgasm on his tongue and without missing a beat, rose and positioned himself at her entrance. Her eyes flicked open to look at him as she felt him move, and a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her exquisite mouth. That was all he needed.

So tormentingly slowly, Alistair finally entered her, the warmth and wetness so indescribably perfect that he couldn’t help but let out a moan. He fit her perfectly and when sheathed completely, he paused and stared into her eyes. Her breathing was still fast from her orgasm and he captured her mouth with his, letting her taste herself. Then he rolled his hips and started to slowly make love to her, not once tearing his gaze from her face. He noticed every single expression that flickered before him as he thrust and teased: a hand on her hip and another once more on her breasts.

She wrapped her legs around him and he plunged unbelievably deeper inside of her, making them gasp and moan in unison as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. As they moved, the pleasure and pressure mounted, but Alistair had much more control than a boy still wet behind the ears - he wanted to give her so much more before he -

“Ah!” he gasped, as she took him by surprise. She had crossed her ankles behind his back and with her strong legs, twisted so that he was forced to roll and let her sit on top of him. Incredibly, they did not lose touch, and the angle was different but just as pleasurable. She smirked down at him as she pressed her hands to his chest and began to slowly roll her hips, her breasts rising and falling beautifully as she took him. Alistair was entranced as he watched his love move quicker with a growing need and he held her hips tightly to control her pace. But she didn’t need any assistance, as she moved faster and faster, his thrusts coming up to meet hers, flesh slapping flesh. Her moans crescendoed, and the erotic sight before him of his wife move above him with a wonton need to claim her pleasure...well he could feel his control slipping. He wanted to spill himself inside of her, and see his seed drip down her legs…

“Fuck!” she cried, reaching her second orgasm, as Alistair dug his fingers into her thighs to stop himself from joining her peak of pleasure. She fell back and Alistair seized his moment to regain control and topped her again.

Fully sheathed once more, he deliberately moved slowly, as he knew that if he picked up the pace then he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But she caught his eye and licked her lips.

“Please, Alistair,” she panted, her hands digging into his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Mmmm?” he replied, biting her earlobe and slipping out of her, making her whimper.

“What do you want?” he teased, stroking himself as she looked up at him with uncloaked desire.

“It’s more than what I want ...it’s what I need ,” she whispered, sitting up to meet her lips with his, her hand trailing down his chest and abdomen, making his muscles tense in anticipation.

They kissed delicately, fervently, noses touching, breath mingling. “And what do you need?”

She pulled away and lay back down on the bed, her legs falling open. She traced one finger down the length of her, and his eyes followed.

“Take me, my king,” she begged, touching herself in front of him.

Almost roughly, because he couldn't bear to not be in her again, he flipped her over, brought her to her knees and lined himself up to her entrance. He kissed her salty back, sleek with sweat and breathed in her ear. “As my queen commands.”

He thrusted inside, and she took all of him. She threw her head back and he grabbed her neck, pulling her up to him for a searing kiss, their tongues dancing as he thrusted fiercely, the globe of her ass bouncing against his abdomen. She moaned in his mouth as she touched herself; legs shaking as he pounded into her over and over; sweat mingling, with moans loud and needy, filling the chamber. He pumped with such animalistic need and she cried in pleasure and she gripped the bedsheets for support as he took her, unrelenting in his passion.

With a shaking arm, he reached around and touched her pearl and she cried out, her orgasm sudden and huge.

“Fill me!” she pleaded as she continued to come.

He snapped and finally, wonderfully, he reached his peak too and exploded inside of her, his vision blurred and black at the edges, as he emptied his seed inside of her - for the first time. And Maker, did it feel incredible to finish like this; in a union of bodies so perfect and natural.

Alistair, as breathless as if he had just swam the length of the Waking Sea, collapsed on top of her, laughing with joy.

“I...I love...you,” he panted, their legs entwined and he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began.

They stayed like that for some time, and Alistair was tempted to fall asleep just like this, but she wiggled underneath him.

“Mmmm, as much as I love you inside of me,” she murmured;” you are crushing me somewhat.”

He reluctantly slipped out of her, trailing kisses all down her back and arse, making her hairs stand on end and her toes curl. He gathered her into his arms, the sheets around them a total mess, but he was loath to care as she lightly ran her fingers over him. His limbs felt like jelly, all loose and relaxed.

“Hey, Alistair?”

“Hmm?” he replied, barely opening his eyes.

“There’s some cheese leftover from last night.”

He sat up suddenly and looked over to where she pointed.

“Cheese for breakfast?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Cheese for breakfast,” she confirmed.

fin

#dasmutquisition2021 #jen writes #my writing #alistair theirin #queen cousland #alistair x cousland #wedding night #lemon #lemony goodness #shameless smut #smut #dragon age #dragon age origins #da: origins #da fanfic

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sugaxela · 4 years

Text

AN ACCIDENTAL FIC REC LIST

So.. I’m a lurker who reads a lot of fics and I get annoyed when I can’t relocate my fave ones. I started making this list of my faves mostly for myself but then figured I’d share it...

I’m Yoongi biased and gravitate towards angst fics so it’s mostly that but there’s fics for every member tossed in here. Some of these are pretty popular so you might have seen a few.

Also, I realized I need to read more Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok fics so if you have recommendations let me know!

Once again it’s a LOT of angst so I would just like to say... CRYING IS GOOD FOR U.

***

KSJ

Start Anew - @gukyi

Seokjin x Reader. Angst. Summary: it’s been five years since you left your hometown, vowing never to return, but a simple invitation to a christmas party and a yearning to know whether or not you’re truly over the heartbreak you left behind has you wondering if, maybe, the christmas spirit and promise of a new beginning can change your mind.

No Limit - @sailorbellewrites

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff. Summary: you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

Lovely Little Mess - @guksheart

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff, smut. Summary: telling seokjin of your pregnancy should not be so daunting, but you hide it as long as you can—at least until you are sitting with him in a bathtub and the secret comes spilling out.

No Parking - @jungshookz

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff. Summary: “to the asswipe who owns this mini cooper - do you know how to read signs? this is a no-parking zone. no. parking. zone. that means you are not allowed to park in this zone. DO NOT park here.” (also I made up the title bc it doesn’t have one)

MYG

Seasons Change - @taetaesbaebaepsae

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

I’ll Float Away - @ppersonna

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: years after the breakup, yoongi, a successful award-winning rapper with an unhealthy addiction, finds your wedding invite on Facebook.

Memory Lane - @hayjeon

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff. Summary: grumpy husband yoongi au aka lots of fluff (mentions of sex)

Do It Again - @kimnjss

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: months after deciding to end their three year long relationship, a sex tape hits the internet. fans go wild speculating that rap star, min yoongi and aspiring model, yn are the stars. old feelings arise as the couple try to figure out a way out of this.

Cuddles and Kittycats - @dinoyoongi

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff, angst. Summary: After a night of drinking, you go to Yoongi’s dorm for some quality cuddles. Unfortunately, you’ve forgotten that you are currently giving him the silent treatment.

Overstayed Welcome - @kkaep-jjjang

Yoongi x Reader - Fluff, smut. Summary: Y/N decides to get over her crush by getting under someone else. Sounds fool proof right? Wrong.

Ghosted - @bloomsuga

Yoongi x Reader. SM AU. Summary: your new roommate is everything you could ask for: quiet, never makes messes, a killer dry sense of humor... and oh yeah—he’s dead.

Wildest Moments - @joonbird

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: “Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.”

Romance is Dead - @dinoyoongi

Yoongi x Reader. Angst, fluff. Summary: You try to surprise Yoongi with a night full of romance but he manages to ruin all of your plans.

Fools Rush In - @sailorbellewrites

Yoongi x Reader. Drabble series. Summary: min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.

Pretend - @gimmesumsuga

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?”

Aquiver - @floralseokjin

Yoongi x Reader. Idol AU. Summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

Hidden Stars - @jungblue

Yoongi x Reader, Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated.

Talk To Me - @btsrpp

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff, angstyish. No summary. But it involves a silent treatment.

No Title - @jungxk

Yoongi x Widow!Reader. Angst. No summary.

JHS

Hobi’s Girl - @v-hope

Hoseok x Reader. SM Au. Summary: after attending a bts concert and very clearly catching one of the members’ attention, you can’t help but get flooded with hate comments once people find your twitter account. who would’ve thought that would be the reason jung hoseok would find his concert girl, too.

Bloom - @jungxk

Hoseok x Reader. Smut. Summary: you’ve always had a crush on hobi and he’s always handled that gently. what he can’t handle is you now, nine years later.

Blue Side - @minyoongone

Hoseok x Reader. SM AU. Summary: when you get a text from a heartbroken boy who you mistake for your ex

KNJ

Confirm or Deny - @dinoyoongi

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

You’ve Got That - @mikrksmos

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

Duck and Cover - @versigny

Namjoon x Reader. Fluff. Summary: There were two things you never dreamed would become your biggest worries with your new job: Kim Namjoon, and that god damn camera.

Inked - @1997jk

Namjoon x Reader. heavy angst, slow burn, soulmate au. (no summary).

Try Me - @jjkfire

Namjoon x Reader. Fluff. Summary: You wanted nothing more than to leave behind your old self when you graduated from high school and moved on to college to play rugby but when you see your high school classmate, resident fuckboy and captain, Kim Namjoon, at the rugby department orientation, you feel like everything might fall apart.

Stitches - @glassbangtan

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: People always said getting married at a young age was a mistake - could they have been right?

All In - @kookiesjoonies

Namjoon x Reader. SM AU. Summary: you aren’t usually one to give out your number to strangers (let alone customers), but after you start talking to Namjoon and getting to know him, you decide that there’s no way you’re going to let him leave without it. however, he fails to mention that he’s one of the most popular rappers in South Korea. and it just so happens that one of your best friends ends up with an extra ticket to one of his shows.

PJM

Come Home to Me Darling - @roses-ruby

Jimin x Reader. Angst. Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

Attention and Care - @your-daily-biaswrecking

Jimin x Reader. Fluff, angstish. Summary: Jimin must be the only person in the world who complains about his girlfriend not complaining... When Amy doesn't pester him to come home early (like the rest of the members) he starts thinking she might not care for him as much.

Daisies - @silverlightqueen

Jimin x Reader. SM AU. Summary: You’ve had a long-running feud with fellow idol Park Jimin, saving all the anger and bitterness for the yearly award shows and shooting each other a few dirty looks, not bowing when you walk past each other, or just generally throwing shade. After one particularly obvious encounter between the two of you, the fans start to notice, just in time for The Rose Tour!

Doubt - @heartkook

Jimin x Reader. Fluff, angst. Summary: Jimin gets jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, and needs reassuring that he’s the only one you love.

KTH

Of Lace and Lust - @hobidreams

Taehyung x Reader. Smut. Summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

Queen Cobra - @fantasybangtan

Taehyung x Reader. Gang AU. Summary: when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

See You - @gimmesumsuga

Taehyung x Reader. Smut. Summary: The one where Taehyung notices you at a concert, and can't help but want to see you again.

Who Cares? - @floralseokjin

Taehyung x OC. Angst. Summary: what happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…?

Color of Your Shirt - @firebettercallnct

Taehyung x Reader. SM AU. Summary: when you're close to your soulmate your shirt changes to their favorite color. yn hates taehyung's favorite color.

JJK

Comfort Inn Ending - @joonbird

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: “It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is, until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired, and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.”

After I Left You - @latetaektalk

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: “when you decided to meet up with taehyung for dinner to reconnect, you didn’t expect to see jungkook, your ex, on a date with his current girlfriend and not to mention, end up fake dating taehyung.”

Rattled - @gukslut

Jungkook x Reader. Genre: Single dad AU, Angst, Healing, E2L, F2L, Smut. (no summary)

Risk It - @kookiesjoonies

Jungkook x Reader. Sm Au. Summary: a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Damn the Delivery Boy - @deerguk

Jungkook x Reader. Fluff. Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

One Thing Right - @hobios

Jungkook x Reader. Angst, fluff. Summary: desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits. the only problem is it’s illegal. and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.

Hidden Stars - @jungblue

Jungkook x Reader, Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated.

Tamped - @chimoona

Jungkook x Reader. Smut, fluff. Summary: You and your business partner/best friend Jin have struggled to find good help to run your coffee shop. Employee after employee, it just never worked out. However, Jungkook is determined to impress and deliver. He wants this more than ever, and it always feels good to want something. To need, well, that’s even better.

Strawberry Kisses - @kimnjss

Jungkook x Reader. SM AU. Summary: an online dating app pairs him with the perfect girl. the two quickly start falling for each other and when things are getting good, he finds out she’s his best friend’s little sister.

Crush - @jungxk

Jungkook x Reader. Fluff, light angst. No summary, amnesiac jk.

Look Alive - @jamaisjoons

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

***

I got a lot of these from some fic rec master lists.

Here’s a namjoon angst master list by @bts-ficrecs

Also this bts fic rec list by @platinumjeon

An infidelity list by @hellreads

Fic-Recs by @joonapeach

Top fics compilation by @xjoonchildx

There’s more but I’ll add those when I find them, and I’ll either update this list or make a new one when I have enough new fics.

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writersofdestiel · 3 years

Photo

Recently, we did a little reboot of our Weekly Words. You will find the details on our Discord Server. Meanwhile, we rounded up all the amazing fics that were created for Weekly Words in the year and a half since the challenge was created.

Time Flies by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: time flies

It's been ten years since Cas went to fight Heaven's war. Today, he's coming back. (Rated T, 0.5k)

Ash by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: rise from the ashes

Dean's shoulders tremble as they watch the flames devour everything he and Cas have built together. (Rated T, 1.1k)

Fate by @galaxystiel, prompt: rise from the ashes

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Dean tugged Castiel towards the storefront. “Don’t you want to find out who your soulmate is? Who you’re fated to be with?” (Rated T, 1.3k)

Equals by @galaxystiel, prompt: white wings

Castiel has one shot, and if it involves punching Crowley in the face? All the better. (Rated T, 1.3k)

Naps for Dogs and Men by @envydean, prompt: white wings

The golden retriever has been coming to Castiel's house for several weeks, taking a nap and then going back on his way and Castiel finally sends a note to his owner. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Runs in the Family by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: white wings

Dean's new boyfriend, Cas, has been wary about him meeting his child, Claire. Dean gets it, they've only been seeing each other for a few weeks. What Dean doesn't know is that Cas might have more reasons for worry than just a premature attachment. (Rated G, 1.4k)

The End and the Beginning by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: shooting star

There is only one way for Cas to escape The Empty's reach. (Rated T, 1.0k)

What Do You Wish For? by @envydean, prompt: shooting star

Dean, Cas, and their senior high school friends are on their annual camping trip. The sun has set and Cas wants some space to reset himself after a lot of socialising and Dean joins him. (Rated E, 1.5k)

Fearful by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: maze

It comes for children, it feeds on their fears. Dean and Cas arrive to end its reign of terror. (Rated T, 1.4k)

All Those Summer Nights by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: tell me more

It was the best summer of Dean's life - spent on relaxing, parties and fun. And most importantly, spent with a blue-eyed boy he met one day on a beach. But the summer's over now, the school year begins, and Dean's left with the memories of his first summer love. (Rated T, 1.4k)

Tell Me More by @thunderthighsmish, prompt: tell me more

“Good night, Dean. I’ll see you in 2 days. Be a good boy for me?” “I will,” Dean promised. “I love you.” (Rated E, 0.8k)

For Better Or Worse by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: through the fire

When they first meet, Cas saves Dean from school bullies. Over the years, their friendship only grows stronger. (Rated T, 1.4k)

Missing Piece by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: missing piece

Castiel and his garrison are given the assignment to rescue the Righteous Man from Hell. (Rated T, 0.8k)

Look What The Cas Dragged In by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: flowing teardrops

There’s a guest in the bunker. Dean’s nose is not a fan. (Rated G, 1.0k)

Teardrops For You by @envydean, prompt: flowing teardrops

The accident killed her and left Dean alive and emotionally broken. He's a disgrace. His best friend is dead and he can't even cry for her. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Christmas Sweaters In June by @envydean, prompt: ugly sweater

“Love,” Cas says suddenly in his ear. It makes Dean’s heart jump and his lungs constrict. “Wha-what?” Dean stutters, head turning to Cas whose eyes are still fixated on the screen. “L-O-V-E. Love, it’s the one you’re missing from this round.” Dean looks back down at his screen and sees Cas’ finger linking the letters together. “Oh,” Dean breathes. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Will You Bee my Valentine? by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: ugly sweater

Dean's tradition on Valentine's Day was always to go out and look for someone to spend the night, but this year he decided to stay home, which was his best decision. (Rated G, 1.1k)

I've Never Wished for Anything more than You by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: i wish

Dean has lost many people before—it’s practically a normal thing in his line of work—but none of them hurt as much as Castiel’s death. Especially because Dean is sure there’s no possible way for the angel to come back again. Or so he thought. (Rated G, 3.0k)

A Drive Under the Moonlight by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: moonlight

Dean has had a lot of fights with Sam—growing up so close together can do that—but sometimes he just can’t stand being near his brother, so he just takes Baby for a drive until his head gets clear. (Rated G, 2.5k)

Cas Loves Emoticons, Burgers, and Dean by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: emoji

Cas has always known that his husband can be a real pain most of the times, but he brings burgers so Cas always forgives him. (Rated G, 1.1k)

Dean + Alcohol = Loose Lips by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: too many beers

Dean has done some pretty stupid things while being drunk—there are some he would even rather not think about. But when he wakes up that morning, he’s pretty sure that what he did last night will be on his Top 3: after almost a decade of hiding his feelings from Cas, he just practically wrote them on a brick and threw it on his best friend’s face—or maybe that would’ve been a little more subtle than what he did. (Rated T, 4.3k)

Intoxicated by @envydean, prompt: too many beers

Cas finds Dean drunk in the fourth bar he searches after Dean sends some worrying texts to him. Dean has surpassed his flirty, chatty self and fallen headfirst into feeling utter desolation. It leaves Castiel to pick up the pieces. (Rated T, 1.4k)

The Case of the Missing Paper by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: origami

Dean has always been sure the bunker is haunted, even when everything pointed to the fact that it’s not. But when all of the paper in the bunker starts to go missing, Dean starts to think that maybe he’s right or there’s someone messing with him. (Rated G, 3.6k)

A Lost Teddy Bear and a New Found Love by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: stuffed animal

Dean has always been very responsible, especially when he needs to take care of his niece, Mary. But when they can't find her stuffed animal (a Stitch that's a few years younger than Sam), Dean starts to panic, not knowing what to do. Good thing the hot neighbor comes to save the day. (Rated G, 4.7k)

Meeting Emma by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: stuffed animal

Dean’s pacing the hospital corridor like some nervous expecting father. After all, that’s who he is right now. And the daughter he didn’t know he had will be here any moment. (Rated G, 1.9k)

Ambiguitatis Error Est by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: i miss how you were here

Dean's pulling away from his close-knit friend group and Castiel is determined to find out why. If he finds some other things out along the way, he won't complain. (Rated G, 1.6k)

Up On The Rooftop Greenhouse by @envydean, prompt: fighting destiny

Michael Shurley is Dean Winchester's true mate. Except, Dean has been in love and dating the Winchester house gardener, Castiel Novak, for nearly three years and Dean doesn't want that to stop. He needs to find a way out of the impending wedding before it's too late, especially when Michael shows his true colours. (Rated T, 5.0k)

With Eyes Wide Open by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: insomnia

Insomnia wasn’t one of Castiel’s favourite parts about humanity, but he loved what he could do in that free time—which, most of the time, involved Dean. (Rated G, 0.9k)

Cheer-Up Food by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: baking

Cas and Sam decide to make a pie for a grumpy Dean. (Rated G, 1.4k)

If Castiel Was A Cake by @envydean, prompt: baking

Castiel comes home to a stressed Dean baking a lot of cakes. So, he decides that a gathering of friends is the best way to keep Dean's mind off everything and it comes with a bonus extra Castiel has been waiting on for years. (Rated T, 2.0k)

As Many Kisses As You Want by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: kiss me

Dean gets really hurt in a hunt and Castiel has no idea what he's supposed to do. He really doesn't. (Rated T, 4.4k)

Kiss Me by @peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim), prompt: kiss me

Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake. Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this. (Rated T, 4.2k)

The Dare On Your Lips by @envydean, prompt: kiss me

Dean Winchester has had the biggest crush on Castiel, but believes that Castiel isn't interested. Then on one drunken night, Dean is dared to kiss Castiel. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Not According To Plan by @peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim), prompt: proposal gone wrong

A fire truck, a smoky kitchen and an unexpected surprise are awaiting Dean after coming back home from work. (Rated G, 1.7k)

Proposal Gone... Right? by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: proposal gone wrong

Dean's been planning this proposal for a long time, but on the day he's actually supposed to propose, nothing seems to go his way. Will he actually manage to propose without everything falling apart? (Rated G, 1.1k)

#fic collection #writersofdestiel #destiel fanfic #destiel #event: weekly words

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sanjisock · 3 years

Text

puddles

ao3

i. arlong park

It does not take long for Sanji to learn that Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves.

He watches in fascination as Zoro faces Mihawk without a single moment’s of hesitation — cut in half, bleeding all over the deck, but his sword stays true still. Zoro dreams, not of being a great swordsman, but of being the greatest; either you are, or you are not.

Sanji can understand that. It is not quite different from his own, if you look at it in the right ways — you either believe in the All Blue, or you don’t. It either exists, or it doesn’t. You can’t bargain with faith.

But Sanji isn’t the same kid with the iron mask all those years ago who had nothing to lose; he has Zeff now, and a debt as heavy as a lost limb that he could never even begin to repay. He knows how much a dream can cost. He knows how much love — true love, the kind with complete and utter devotion — can cost.

Cocoyashi Village is in celebration, and Sanji finds himself tucked into a corner of the party together with Zoro, somehow untouched by the cacophony. They’re still sizing each other up, barely knowing one another past a fight and a promise to a captain. But Zoro has trusted him easily in that very fight, and right now there’s a spark in the air between them, something not entirely different from attraction .

Zoro takes a large gulp from his bottle and gestures back at the ship. “You coming?”

This could be something , Sanji thinks. Wants to try, if he’s being honest.

But Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves — he is not a man who tries . If Sanji takes the leap, this is it — they either are, or they aren’t. And if they aren’t — Sanji isn’t sure a crew as small and as tight-knitted as the Straw Hats can handle a break up, especially so early on in their journey.

(Sanji isn’t sure a heart as weak as his can handle a break up).

“I’ll catch up later,” he shrugs, scrambling for an excuse. He suddenly feels like he’s ten again, terrified and running away. “Been wanting to check out this one recipe from that guy over there.”

“If you say so,” Zoro takes the dismissal in stride, and dumps the empty sake bottle into a barrel as he stands up to leave.

Sanji watches him disappear into the night.

ii. enies lobby

The Mosshead has been giving him the nastiest look ever since the ship sailed away from Water Seven, so Sanji isn’t particularly surprised when Zoro stops him on his track on the way to Usopp’s workshop.

Zoro eyes the colorful drink on the tray in Sanji’s hand like it’s challenged him into a duel, before finally grunting, “you need to stop treating Usopp like that.”

Sanji’s eyes unwittingly follow Zoro’s gaze on the drink he made for Usopp — it has five colors, three different fruits, and a whip cream on top. Entirely too flashy for the male crewmembers, usually reserved for important occasions. Sanji feigns obliviousness, still. “Like what?”

“Like he’s going to break anytime soon,” Zoro says.

“You mean nicely ?” Sanji snarls back. “Like a normal human being? Not everyone is like you, Marimo. Some people have emotions. ”

“It’s insulting , is what it is,” Zoro retorts, his whole body leaning into Sanji’s personal space, like a challenge. “There’s never a need for you to coddle him. Usopp made his decisions as a man back then, and he had to learn the consequences for it — ”

“And he has learned , Zoro,” Sanji cuts in, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, the fight leaving his body in a snap. He sighs. “Look — I get that it’s your thing, protecting our pride as a crew and all. I was on your side, remember? But it’s all in the past, and Usopp’s got your message, loud and clear.”

Sanji thinks of a little boy with the iron mask, who were forced to learn all his lessons the hard way; and what comes out next is, “I’m the cook of this ship. Let me feed him.”

Let me take care of him , he doesn’t say, but it means pretty much the same thing.

There must’ve been something in his voice, because Zoro seems taken aback; all the tension bleeds out from his shoulders, and he’s now looking at Sanji with an unreadable expression.

There’s a moment of silence, stretched long enough to the point of awkwardness, before Zoro says, “ — didn’t mean to. I mean — quite a lot of shit went down, just didn’t wanna see you — don’t overexert yourself.”

Sanji blinks. “What are you saying .”

“All this talk about taking care of people,” Zoro says, hand rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of — what? Embarrassment ? “Why wouldn’t you let me —”

Zoro pauses there, sentence trailing off into nothing; but Sanji has always been good at reading Zoro, and he hears the words anyway.

Why wouldn’t you let me take care of you .

Sanji thinks of the party in Cocoyashi, and then hundreds of moments after that — quiet moments in the galley when Zoro helped him wash up the dishes, playful banters that Zoro could only keep up with. Countless enemies they fight side by side, together, the way he feels his heart beat in sync with Zoro’s from across the battlefield.

“Cook —” Zoro puts his hand on Sanji’s shoulder then, and the touch burns , like an electric shock; it jolts Sanji back from his thoughts, a reminder of the reality between them, the way they would fight as hard as they love, and what would that leave him, in the aftermath?

“Let me go ,” Sanji says before he can stop himself, and practically runs to Usopp’s workshop.

iii. thriller bark

“You’re a dumbass ,” Sanji says.

“Hn,” Zoro says, not arguing for once.

“I’ve always known you have moss for brains,” Sanji continues, fully aware he’s rambling but unable to stop himself, “but who would’ve thought you’d be this dumb. What kind of complete and utter idiot would be so fucking reckless against a warlord for the second time in his life.”

Zoro hums noncommittally.

Sanji tightens the bandage across his torso with a little more force than necessary.

Zoro makes a pained grunt, and Sanji winces at the sound; they’ve roughhoused each other countless of times before, but this is the first time Zoro can’t take something Sanji dished. It shouldn’t be surprising though, not after the wounds he has taken from Bartholomew Kuma —

“You need to learn to pick your battles,” Sanji rambles on, because he’s suddenly hit with the realization that if he stops talking he might actually cry . “Or at least employ some strategies. Ever heard of those? That’s what people with brains usually do when they fight instead of simply waving some pointy sticks against the enemy. Raise your hand a bit —” he moves to the wound on Zoro’s arm, taking greater care to make sure he’s as gentle as possible, a silent apology for the earlier mishap. “Right there. Yeah. Anyways, I was saying —”

“Sanji,” Zoro says, and Sanji stops.

It’s so unfamiliar — the way Sanji’s name rolls off Zoro’s tongue, shaped by his deep voice. It sends a shiver down his spine, Sanji’s heart suddenly rattling against his ribcage.

When he looks up, Zoro is staring back at him with half-lidded eyes, something other than pain marring his gaze.

Longing .

Sanji feels his throat dry all of a sudden.

“Sanji,” Zoro says, voice low and rasp, but steady. And then: “stay.”

Sanji drops the bandages in his hands. He can’t do this — not when he’s staring at the very reminder of what it would cost . The idea of losing Zoro, as a nakama , has already torn him from the inside; he can’t imagine what it’s like to see Zoro’s lifeless body on the infirmary bed, as a lover.

He remembers standing in front of her mother’s grave, feeling like he’s coming apart at the seams, and wanting to tear up the stitches; wishing he could just unravel after so much hurt .

“Zoro,” he says, feeling like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, “I — I can’t —”

But when he dares himself to finally meet Zoro’s eyes, the Swordsman has lost consciousness again.

Sanji flees the infirmary.

iv. zou

He flips BIg Mom’s invitation to the tea party over and over again, staring at the words etched on the paper.

Groom: Third Son of the Vinsmokes, Sanji.

The words settle unpleasantly in his gut, and he swallows, trying to calm himself down. He’s no longer the same weak kid with the iron mask; he’s now a Straw Hat, and he’s going to settle his issues with his pathetic excuse of a family once and for all.

That’s all.

...so why does it feel like this isn’t going to end well with Zoro?

Thoughts of the Shitty Swordsman appear in his mind, unbidden. A scowl, definitely — maybe a few scathing words to accompany the look. Something about Sanji and his self-sacrificial tendencies — as if Zoro has any right to lecture anyone about that — or maybe some diatribe about trusting the crew to take care of one of their own.

Which is not what this is about, at all. Of course Sanji trusts everyone in the crew — trusts Luffy to be able to take care of himself. But this is his problem, and he’s the only one responsible to fix it. There’s no need to trouble everyone with a little family problems.

(So why does it still feel like he’s running away?)

v. whole cake island

“First of all, the captain of my own ship came all this way to track me down,” he says, raising a finger for emphasis, “only for me to insult and hurt him to the best of my ability despite no resistance from him whatsoever. That means I cannot go back to your ship right now.”

Run , he remembers being ten, hearing Reiju’s voice through the prison bars. There is no turning back. Your mistakes are final.

“Second of all,” he continues, “the shitty geezer who saved my life and the home where I was raised are being held hostage in case I don’t play along. That means I cannot escape from this wedding.”

Run , he remembers thinking every time he catches sight of Zeff’s leg. This is the cost of your dream. This is the cost of your love.

“Third of all,” he says, voice rising even higher, “the evil family to which I’m related to is walking into Big Mom’s trap, and they’ll all be slaughtered in a matter of hours. They’re scum of the earth to whom I owe nothing but my hatred but I cannot bring myself to abandon them to their fate and run away!”

Run , he tells himself. Your love worths nothing. You are not worth anyone’s love.

“For these three reason,” he says, eyes avoiding Luffy’s. “I cannot return with the rest of you.”

There’s a bright sunburst of pain against his cheek, and the momentum of the punch throws him against a tree bark, shattering under the impact.

“Tell me how you really feel ,” Luffy yells. “What do you want, Sanji?”

For the first time in his life, Sanji stops running.

(i. wano)

Sanji didn’t notice at first, with all the flurry and chaos of the fight against Kaido; but once things have settled down, it occurs to him that Wano is a spring island.

The air is tinged with the kind of heat that barely tips over to unpleasant, uncomfortable without the unbearable fever of summer. Even the nights are wearily humid, which is why he decided to stray away from the celebration feast into the forest, and finds Zoro training alone, swinging his new sword against the wind.

They have not had a moment to themselves ever since — ever since . All of their conversations have mostly been in the heat of the battle, and Sanji isn’t quite sure if they simply did not have the time, or if Zoro has been avoiding him.

It doesn’t matter — here they are, gravitating towards each other still. As if fate herself has weaved a path for them, time and again.

He thinks he can still hear Luffy asking, in the rain: what do you want, Sanji?

“Zoro,” he says, and faces him, head on. “I am in love with you.”

He thinks Zoro would’ve been surprised, once upon a time; maybe if Sanji dared to say it under the Alabasta moonlight, or bathed by the campfire light in the Sky Islands; but now, it feels superfluous, almost redundant. It is no longer the truth that matters between them.

Zoro finally turns to meet his eyes, and sheathes his sword into its scabbard. “What do you want, Cook?”

The same question, again. He’s been running away for so long, he’s forgotten what truly matters, before the risks and the tragedies and the costs . What he truly wants .

The answer to that has always been simple.

“I want us, Zoro. Together. In whichever way you’ll have me.”

Zoro walks up and stops, right in front of Sanji. “You have me ,” he says. “You’ve always had me. It’s you who’s always —” Zoro pauses, gritting his teeth, frustration written all over his face.

“I know,” Sanji says, heartbeat rising up his throat, his ears, his mouth. “Zoro, I —”

“I need to know ,” Zoro says, hand a hair’s breadth away from Sanji’s own, but not quite touching. “I need to know if you will keep running away from me or not.”

Sanji takes the offered hand and closes the distance between them.

It is a short kiss at first, only a cling of lips — and then he feels Zoro’s free hand drifting up to cradle his face as Zoro leans in for another kiss, and another, little dips of kisses, as if Zoro needed the constant reassurance that Sanji is here, with him. And Sanji can give him that, owe him that much — he breathes into the kiss, chases Zoro’s lips and mouths at the curve of his smile.

“This is it, right?” Zoro says when they part, forehead still pressed against one another’s. “Because this is it for me, Cook.”

Sanji thinks of Zoro, who doesn’t do things in halves. Either they are, or they aren’t. And for once he realizes — not the fear or the risk, but how much of an honor it is, to be loved by this man. Entirely and all-consuming.

“This is it,” he tells Zoro, and squeezes Zoro’s hand. “No more running away.”

#opfanfic #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece

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bluebellhairpin · 4 years

Text

Of Droids and Children

Poe Dameron X Single-Mother!Reader

A/N: I was listening to ‘I’ve Been Waiting for You’ from Mamma Mia 2 and it gave me baby fever; this is me trying to vent it out (also in a way that helps push out some content, yay!). - Nemo

Warning(s): Pregnancy mentions (Like, a paragraph-full). Character Death.

Summary: After losing love twice, you thought you might not get it back. Moving to a new Resistance base with your daughter proves you wrong.

Masterlist

[ Gif was found on Pinterest. Credit to it’s maker! ]

You’d known love before you met Poe. You’d known it three times, and all but one had left you.

The first was your family.

Your older siblings were taken away to the First Order, you parent’s had only enough time to hide you before the troopers came and took the others away. The troopers soon after came and killed your parents. You never understood why, and you’ve spent the rest of your life wondering. Naturally you still love them, but you miss them even more.

The second was your husband.

He was nothing short of an angel. He taught you so much, and many times had your life been saved by his perfect timing. It was a love built on years of respect, admiration, and late-night conversations. But like all of the best people in the Resistance, he was taken from the fight in one of the most noble ways to go. But he didn’t leave you alone.

The third was your daughter.

Vega was a miracle, and just like her father she was the one thing that gave you hope beyond measure. Despite carrying her on your own - truly on your own - that only seemed to make you love her more. Even now, five years later and the war raging like it never had before, she was still the light that kept the darkness of the galaxy at bay.

The love you felt with Poe wasn’t like that of Vega’s father. Sure, your realization came about as slowly, but really you’d had it since you first saw him with Vega.

___________

Vega had run off, and you being distracted with the mechanics of a newly damaged ship didn’t truly notice until you saw her (h/c) hair disappear around a corner.

Having only relocated to the base on Ajan Kloss, you ran after her right away. Back on your old base you were fine with her wandering off - she knew exactly how to get back, and everyone knew her - but here it was a little different.

“Vega!” you called, rounding another corner to find still no daughter. “Oh jeez, where the hell did she go?” you mumbled to yourself, your hands resting on your hips as you turned on the spot a few times before taking off in a new direction.

“Hey, hey lady, ma’am!” You turned back around, coming face to face with a man you’d seen across rooms - at the best of times - Poe Dameron. “Have you seen a droid? About yay high and so round. White. Orange details and an antenna that sticks up about an inch or so.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Um, on that topic - kind of - have you seen a child anywhere? Looks like me but smaller?”

You were both useless to each other.

A high pitched and childlike squeal of laughter came from your left, and you looked towards the end of the hallway to see Vega run past, followed by a small white and orange droid.

“Vega! -”

“- BB-8!” Both you and Poe shouted, then went running, chasing after the child and the droid, and you wondered how a five-year-old could run so fast.

Eventually you overtook the droid - BB-8 - and scooped a giggling and puffed Vega into your arms.

“I thought I told you to stay close, V.” you lightly scolded, and Vega looked over your shoulder with a light smile.

“Beebs wanted to play.” she said. You turned around to see Poe standing with BB at his feet. If droid faces could show emotions, you were sure BB’s face would match Poe’s wide and innocent smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back, even if Poe’s grin was directed right at the girl in your arms and not you.

__________

You only kept running into Poe and his droid more after that.

It became a common occurrence for both you and Poe to lose your respective small beings, only to find them together later on. Everyone in the base no longer questioned two adults running after a droid, of which was chasing a small - and always giggling - child. In fact most people found it rather homely, while others just paid no mind at all.

Such an event happened daily, and by the time a month was up, the act gained some new participants.

Over the course of trying to find his droid, Poe often sought the help of the Ex-Trooper, Finn. You did much the same when finding your daughter, except recruited the local Wookie, Chewie, instead.

It became quite the show, and some even stopped to watch your little parade pass by.

___________

“Rose, come here!” Rey called back, standing at her desk as the sound of yells and giggles came closer, “They’re coming around again!”

Rose came up behind her, watching as Vega came around a corner and into the hanger below, soon followed by BB-8. You came in after, almost neck-to-neck with Poe, while Finn was behind you both. Chewie didn’t seem to put in much effort, despite your constant telling him;

“Your legs are so long, can’t you run any faster!”

And that only seemed to amuse him, so he slowed down even more, trailing behind everyone at a much more languid pace.

“That’s their second time around the base?” Rose asked, only really wanting to clarify what Rey said earlier.

“Uh huh.” Rey nodded, tapping one of her books in her hand. “I think Vega and BB are using their smaller stature to their advantage.” Rose gasped dramatically.

“Short cuts?” Rey hummed, and the two women shared a look. “We’re not going to tell their humans, are we?”

“Nope!” Rey laughed.

__________

Eventually, after another half-lap of the base, you caught what you were chasing, and Finn and Chewie were realised from their roles as finders to go back to their jobs.

You turned to Poe, already having had another talk with Vega about wandering off without permission - even if she was supervised by a very trustworthy droid - with her hand in yours.

“Food?” you asked Poe, offering for him to join you for your post-chase ritual of raiding the local pantry for some snacks.

Poe nodded, and Vega bounced forward to take his hand in her free one as you started your much more pleasant journey in search of edibles.

__________

“You know, if I didn’t think any better, I’d start to wonder if they do it on purpose.”

Poe had settled at your side, the both of you had taken up watching Vega play with whatever gadgets BB would pull out.

“Of course they chase each other around on purpose Poe, that’s their game.” You said, taking another bite out of some sort of bread that was stuffed full of herbs.

“No,” Poe groaned, nudging your shoulder with his, “I mean roping us into it too. We never would’ve met if they didn’t run around and have us chasing them.”

Your chewing ceased for a moment, then started up again.

“You think they’d do that?” you asked, looking over at BB as he pulled out his lighter, looked over at you, and then promptly put it away. “They probably would.” you said, answering yourself as you spared a glance back at Poe.

Poe was already looking at you - cliche as ever - and nodded.

“They definitely would.”

__________

Poe Dameron Taglist: @p3nny4urth0ught5 @m1rkw00dpr1ncess

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron oneshot #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #dad poe dameron x reader #dad poe

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dawnhardn · 3 years

Text

INTRODUCING... DAWN HARDIN

stitch by stitch, i tear apart if brokenness is a form of art i must be a poster child prodigy

Name: Dawn Hardin

Gender: cis woman

Age: forty-four

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 5'4

Home District: capitol

Status: stylist

TW FOR FULL BIO: infertility, loss of body autonomy, hospital mention, mention of bugs.

i. of growing up

The mystery that has plagued her entire life is this: Dawn doesn't know her beginning. She knows all about the day she was adopted, oh, that's the part her parents boast about; her entire childhood, all she heard about was how she was saved. Only a toddler when she was plucked from District Nine, with nothing but scraps for clothes and a small pendant on a necklace with Nine's symbol, she doesn't remember much. She doesn't know where her story begins, nothing before that fateful day when she stumbled into her new parents' arms, kicking and crying, a child begging to be loved. Sometimes, when it's really quiet at night, she thinks she can still hear the wheat rustling with the gentle wind.

They were fine folk, her parents, but they had a hard time differentiating between love and possession. She grew up having everything she could ever want when it came to money; the prettiest dresses, the accessories, the hairs, the coolest toys and all the books her arms could carry. And they gave her attention, too. They gave her tenderness, sometimes. They loved her, but in their own way. She always needed to prove herself to them, she was always scrambling for their acceptance. She was their shiny trophy, the poor girl who had to be grateful to be living such a luxurious life, the lucky one, out of so many other less fortunate orphans. They never let her forget that, and despite loving them, too, she was always aching for something more.

When she's young and they push her to work in the Games, she obliges, like she always does. The yearly horror show often makes her avert her eyes from the television, sure, but she can pull her lips back and offer a smile and lie her way through this. Styling was the easiest option to stay far enough away from the carnage, and although it protected her from having to consider some of the more dreadful aspects of the Game, it didn't keep her from mourning every single loss. Every kid that wore her creations was held so dearly to her heart, even when she was just starting. The motherly instinct she felt towards them was something she couldn't hold it in if she tried. The pain of loss never gets easier to face, no matter how much the pile of bodies under her grows.

ii. of loving

She grew up thinking love was a fighting game, one step out of line and you lost it. She thought love meant buying shiny things, and parading around parties, and choking back tears. She had partners in her teenage years, silly flings here and there that never went anywhere, and she thought that was it. Love wasn't unconditional, love wasn't for everyone.

Like a moth who couldn't find a flame, by her young adult years Dawn had accepted that she was destined to flap her wings around the darkness aimlessly until she tired herself out. And despite all this emptiness, she still carried her heart in her sleeve, a safety hazard as much as it was her biggest strength. Her hands always ready to help someone in need, she was always scrambling to give out the kind of unconditional love she never got from her parents, an empty cup pouring itself to fill others.

Then, she met Aeron. He was kind, and gentle, and he might as well be the Sun itself for the way he warmed up every room he walked into. The connection between them felt immediate, something sharp and undeniable, like the stars had always known their names. Dawn feels as if she can breathe for the first time in years.

She was born to be a mother, she knows this now. She'd grown up mothering every living thing that passed her way, and for a while there, she thought that would be enough; taking care of tributes, taking care of friends, taking care of fleeting lovers. But once she meets Aeron, she realizes the itch runs much deeper. It's a consuming desire, electric all through her body, how badly she wants to have children running around their house. Little ones to climb up the tree in their backyard, and draw on walls, and fill up the house with laughter. Aeron wants to be a father, too. Everything works out perfectly in her life, until it doesn't.

iii. of fighting

She can't dedicate herself to a family while she's still overworked by the Capitol, so when she puts in the request to retire, it's only because it feels fitting. She has an excuse to be let go, and they have an excuse to find a better stylist to put in her place. Someone more passionate, someone with more drive. She's already twenty-eight, she's sure there are handfuls of much younger, much more talented people out there they can choose from.

They don't let her retire. While at first, she thought she was offering them a perfectly balanced way out, now she realizes she was begging. And they hadn't obliged. She'll never forget the way Aeron's face fell when she told him the news, and the way he'd marched out of their house the very next morning, to fight for their future. To fight for her.

The next day, when she comes back home, exhausted and longing for her partner, she notices his coat isn't hanging by the door. There aren't any pots on the stovetop with dinner ready, waiting for her. There aren't extra shoes by the door, no notes on the fridge. She rushes to their bedroom to find none of his clothes in their closet, his toothbrush, his medicine, everything he ever touched, gone. Wiped from existence. She would've thought herself completely insane if it wasn't for the ring still on her finger, his initials written into it.

That's the message they send, to warn her never to stand up again. They send silence. No matter how many times she asks, they never tell her what they did to him. She can be on her knees, she can be pulling her hair out; she has barged into offices screaming until she had to be dragged away by security, and they still never give her anything. Nothing except a few more threats to remind her of the leash they have around her neck. They tug, and she follows.

iv. of giving up

There's no way around it, she knows, and once she understands that, something in her dies. She settles for the reality of never having her loved one back, and it kills her, too. If before she was a searching moth, now she has been caught by the capitol, her delicate wings pinned to an exhibitional board and drying out.

She continues working for them, and with every passing year, she's less and less inspired. The critics drive into her, looking to sink their teeth into easy prey, reminding her she's doing a terrible job any chance that they can. These jabs never work their way under her skin, because there's a state of numbness after she accepts the loss of Aeron in her life. Her dreams, her love, her everything, gone so quickly, ripped from her arms without notice. She has no hopes of him even being alive.

There's numbness, and it's almost uneventful because of it. She feels like she's barely living anymore, simply surviving to get by, pushing one foot after the other to keep moving. There's a spark of wrath somewhere, a flicker of red in the darkness of her chest that leaps around every once in a while, but her own dullness doesn't let it thrive. Another year passes, another Games she works on. That year, when she's sending her kids off to battle, her vision fails her.

She can't remember collapsing, but it must've been what happened. One minute she's within the Game headquarters feeling dizzy, the next minute she's waking up in a doctor's office. Her body shakes with shivers, her hands are as pale as the gown they have her wearing. The staff looks at her with pity, their eyes avoiding hers like they're hiding something. They speak in terms she's never heard of, and they're not direct when she demands to know what happened, but the gist of it is this -- there's more pain for her to carry in her life. She's been poisoned -- they don't tell her how --, and the substance has rotten her insides. She's pushed out of the hospital with the diagnosis of a lifetime of migraines, occasional shaky hands, and the inability to ever have children. That's when she understands the message they're sending.

And she feeds the spark in her chest until it turns into a forest fire.

v. of loving ii

When she loves these kids, now, it's almost out of spite. That's the one thing the Capitol can't take from her, the one thing they've tried beating out of her when they killed her spirits. They almost succeeded, too. They made her feel weak, hopeless, nothing more than an undead carcass dragging herself around without a goal. She won't let them do it, ever again.

So she loves the kids. She doesn't turn away from the screens anymore, she feels every splatter of blood, she cries for every death. She loves them endlessly, and without reservation, and without fear. She offers warm arms they can run into, and a shoulder to cry on, and a caring hand to push their hairs back. If the Capitol wants to kill her for this, then so be it.

She'll accept death knowing she went down with a goddamn fight.

#intro ;;#could not resist the urge to pick this dumb gif #tl;dr she's the local mom with a sad backstory!!!#still working on sliding into everyones dms pls hold!!

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

The Press Tour

New York City, the final stop.

Part I Part II

Warnings: Full smut ahead, but wow is it soft

After looking in the mirror one more time, I sent up a silent prayer to the god who hated me so much, just in case they wanted to make amends, for tonight to go off without a hitch.

This was it, the final stop: New York City.

I knew the boys were tired, but they had done so well, and there had been no more disasters like the one in Italy. In fact, they hadn’t made a single demand of me since that calamitous side trip.

Although, not everything about it was a disaster.

There was this thing now between Rami and me. It was something palpable that had been birthed after our shared bed in that dilapidated motel room. I found myself thinking about him all the time, and I knew he was thinking about me, too.

Our conversations had become more natural, more intimate, and we often found ourselves taking our meals together, whether it be in a little place out of the way in the city we were in or in one of our hotel rooms at some ungodly hour when humans weren’t meant to be doing anything other than sleeping, watching the local news on TV in a language neither of us knew.

And now, as I looked at myself in the mirror, instead of a face full of pure elation, I was haunted by eyes that were trying to suppress a niggling dread. The tour had done just what I’d hoped it would do; it made me a success, and I already had to hire two assistants to help me work on the next press tour bookings.

As of midnight tonight, the Bohemian Rhapsody press tour was officially done.

Tomorrow, Rami Malek, soon-to-be global film star, would be on his way to LA to seek a few days solace with his family after spending so long on the road.

And I would be flying to London by the week’s end to start a new press junket.

Normally, I spent the main events in the wings, dressed head to toe in black, trying my best not to be seen as I worked.

But tonight was a celebration, of the film and of the boys, and a personal celebration of my success. I had chosen a blue, deep v-neck dress that was definitely a stand-out piece. I let hair and makeup have a go at me, although I skipped the heavy red-carpet makeup in favor a more natural look.

I knew I looked lovely.

With one final smoothing of my gown, I grabbed my clutch and headed down to meet the team in the lobby.

As soon as the boys noticed me, I was greeted with a chorus of catcalls that made me roll my eyes and wave at them to stop it. I didn’t need that kind of attention when the Brian May and the Roger Taylor were laughing with their wives and friends a few feet away at the bar. It was surreal to even believe that I was breathing the same air as them.

Besides, all that mattered was the way Rami was looking at me, almost as if he were seeing me for the first time after a long separation, even though we had all sat up in the hotel lobby, late into the night drinking, laughing, and celebrating.

I did my rounds, making sure everything was on schedule, but I could feel his eyes on me and every time I looked in his direction, he was watching me.

After answering a few last-minute questions, I made my way over to the boys, and they began again with the low whistles and praises.

“That’s embarrassing,” I hissed. “I am—and have been—an attractive woman this entire press tour. Show a little skin and you can’t handle it!”

Rami smiled and once again, he stepped in to save a sinking ship.

“It’s not what you’re wearing. You’re glowing, Y/N. Pride? I mean look at this! You did it,” he said, his voice lowering and very obviously filled with pride for my work.

“Rami’s right,” Gwilym added. “We owe you a great big thank you—for getting the film this level of exposure and for keeping us sane along the way.”

“Mmm, sane is a pretty subjective term,” Joe said, drawing chuckles out of us before he looked at me and spoke a very genuine thank you.

I felt myself tear up, so I leaned in and gave Joe a quick hug before rushing off to get everyone properly queued for the red carpet.

* * * * *

Tucked away in a dark corner of the after party, I typed up an answer to an email that just couldn’t wait until the morning.

I sucked in a breath when Rami appeared at my elbow, offering me a glass of champagne.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, his beautiful eyes sparkling.

I took the champagne, grateful for his attentiveness.

“Wait—” he interrupted, his fingers brushing the back of my wrist before the glass reached my lips. “A toast?”

I smiled, nodding for him to continue.

“To us.”

“Alright,” I said slowly, my grin barely faltering as I echoed, “To us,” and raised my glass to my lips.

Our eyes never left one another’s as we drank that first sip of our toast, but our stolen moment was short lived as another throng of people spotted Rami and engaged him in conversation.

With a last, lingering glance, I slipped away.

* * * * *

It was almost 2 am when I slid my key into the lock of my door and cursed as it blinked red. I slid it again, and cursed again.

“Third time’s a charm,” rumbled a familiar, deep voice close enough to my ear to make my arms break out in goosebumps.

“Rami,” I whispered as my eyes slipped shut for a moment, my hand trembling as the card hovered just before the magnetic strip.

His lips pressed quickly against my bare shoulder.

“I know what’s at stake, Y/N. Fate brought us closer together once. Let it decide again. If it turns green, we spend the night together.”

I took a deep breath, shakily exhaling as I said, “You do it—I . . . I can’t.”

In one smooth motion, as if he already knew our fate, he plucked the keycard from my fingers and swiped it through the lock, both of us watching as it blinked green.

My head tried to whip in his direction, but he was already pushing me through the door as he leaned into the handle. As soon as the door clicked behind us, Rami pinned me against the wall and kissed me.

We had come so close that night in the motel and had I known that it would be anything, anything like this, I would’ve just done it—I would have kissed him and then let him fuck me and I would have taken Joe and Gwil’s tormenting with absolute glee.

Rami’s lips molded themselves over mine in that first brutal press that marked him as claiming me. He exhaled into the kiss then began moving his mouth, working mine open until he could slide his tongue between my lips. The feeling of his tongue swirling with mine sent a flood of arousal to my core and a rush of blood to my ears.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe so I pushed him back, just to look in his eyes.

His polychromatic eyes looked dark blue in the dim light of the lamp I had forgotten I had left on. They were alert, despite the exhaustion of the evening, and they flicked between mine, trying to read whether I wanted him to continue or to stop.

Before he could speak, I reached out and grasped his face in my hands, running my thumbs over the smooth skin of his cheeks before I let them fall to ghost over his jaw. His eyes slipped shut and his lips stayed parted as I slid my hands down his neck and to the shoulders of his grey and black-striped suit. I slipped my fingers underneath the jacket and grasped his shoulders, pushing the material down his arms.

He opened his eyes as he wriggled free, and this time, he encircled my waist and pulled me to his body. He stepped into the hug and squeezed me tight, and I thought again about how he had looked at me tonight.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran one hand through his hair, the side of my face pressed tightly against his as we both just stood there, inhaling the presence of the other, cementing this fantasy into a reality.

“Unzip me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rami made a noise, deep in his chest, and his fingers immediately went to the back of my dress.

I clung to him as he slid the zipper lower, his fingers very purposefully trailing along each newly exposed expanse of skin.

My dress hadn’t allowed for a bra so the first barrier he encountered was the top of my matching, lace panties.

I stepped out of his embrace and moved farther into the room, facing away from him as I raised one foot up to slip off one of my heels, then the other; I worked myself the rest of the way out of my dress, finally letting it pool at my bare feet.

I could feel his eyes on me as I listened to him open the clasp on his watch, the sound of it dropping onto the desk so alluring that it made me shiver. Next went his cufflinks, and then he kicked off his shoes, and I waited, only turning my head when I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Do you know how many times I’ve gone to sleep thinking about your beautiful back? The way your soft skin felt under my fingers? The way all that tension loosened as I worked over your muscles?

“Do you know how often I’ve thought about this freckle?” he asked, his lips kissing my shoulder blade. “Or this one right here?”

I shivered as he kissed near the middle of my back.

“Or how often I’ve imagined running my hands over the gorgeous curves of your waist . . . like this,” he breathed as he touched me, pulling a sigh of contentment from my throat.

“Rami. I—”

“Shhh . . . let me take care of you.”

His touch. His voice. His praise. It was all so much better than anything I had built up in my mind.

I turned to face him, and his eyes ran greedily over my body.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

I smiled at his words and moved forward, wanting him to at least match me in my state of undress.

I worked the buttons on the front of his shirt and pulled the tails from his pants before pushing the fabric off of his body, just like his jacket. I took a moment to run my hands over his olive skin, scratching lightly at his well-groomed chest hair.

I reached up and wrapped my hand around the side of his neck, pushing his chin up with my thumb. I kissed down his neck, before licking back up to his jaw and pressing a kiss near his ear.

“Such a pretty face,” I said, pulling a crooked grin from him as I stepped back, my hands already on his belt.

I worked his trousers open and off without ceremony, and as soon as he was free of everything but his grey boxer-briefs, he pulled our bodies together, our torsos connecting for the first time as he kissed me, deeply and purposefully.

He hoisted me up, tripping over our clothes, and he clumsily deposited me on the bed while he tumbled in painfully on top of me.

“When you replay tonight, leave that part on the editing room floor,” he said, both of us softly laughing.

“No,” I said, still smiling as I situated myself underneath of him. “That was almost as romantic as you untying my shit-covered shoelaces.”

Rami laughed again, his eyes crinkling in the corners and his teeth flashing; god, he was beautiful when he was happy.

“That made the final cut, huh--Ohhh,” Rami breathed out as I cut him off by rocking into his hard cock.

“Ohhh,” I echoed, smiling up at him before pulling him into another kiss.

Rami broke this kiss to begin working his way down my body, moving slowly to learn what I liked, and by the time his lips were kissing along the edge of my panties, I needed him desperately.

He worked my underwear off my legs and tossed them over his shoulder; he grasped my knees and slid his hands up, gently pushing apart my thighs, moaning when he saw that I was glistening.

“So wet,” he murmured, unable to tear his gaze away.

“I need you, Rami—we’ve waited long enough.”

He looked up at my words, then slid off the bed so he could take his underwear off. I barely had time to appreciate his cock before he was between my legs again, his tip sliding teasingly through my wetness.

“Uh, should we . . .”

“I’m good if you’re good—there’s no one else, Y/N,” he said with seriousness.

I nodded and pulled him onto me. He rotated a bit to the side to grasp his cock so he could slide into me, shallowly thrusting until he pushed all the way in and we both moaned.

“Feels better than I ever imagined,” he said before kissing me as he began to move.

“So much better,” I agreed, shifting my hips so he could thrust even deeper.

We built to a rhythm, Rami eventually shifting back onto his haunches so he could pull my body against his hips and thrust deep enough to make me feel lost to pleasure. I reached up to grasp the slats of the headboard and Rami leaned forward to run his hands over my breasts, pulling lightly on my nipples and making me gasp. He trailed his hands back down my body and at this angle, he was perfectly able to work my clit. He settled his hand on my mound and used his thumb to start applying pressure, asking me what I liked.

I directed him until I could no longer form any word other than “yes.”

His thrusts became erratic as he built up my pleasure, and he stilled as I came, watching me as I cried out, moaning, “Rami Rami Rami Rami.”

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he started to move again, and this time, he was moaning with every thrust at how tight and hot I was after my orgasm.

“Come, Rami. I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” I murmured, sitting up on my elbows as I met his thrusts, my own breath still coming in pants.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands anchoring my hips as he pistoned into me until he bit his lip and threw back his head as he came, looking just as beautiful as I had imagined he would.

I felt his cum splash inside of me, so hot and so much of it, and I shivered with pleasure as he lowered his head, an indentation on his lower lip where he had bitten down almost hard enough to draw blood.

Instead of pulling out, he settled on top of me, pushing himself still deeper inside. He held himself up, just enough not to hurt me but not so far as to have a gap between us. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest and I reached up to settle my fingers over his flushed skin.

“I can’t wait to wake up in the morning and do this again,” Rami said, sleep evident as his cock finally softened enough to slide out of me, both of us shifting our hips at the loss of contact.

“Should we, though? Maybe this is better as—”

“If you say that was a one-off, I will walk out of here, naked as the day I was born, bring the guys into this room, along with half of the rest of the tour managers, maybe even Bri and Rog if I run into them along the way, to explain to you what a dumbass idea that really is.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, sighing, “This is going to be so hard. You’re going to LA. I’m going to London—”

“We will figure it out,” Rami said, tucking his arms under me as he rolled onto his back and took me with him, pulling me on top of his body.

I chuckled and shivered at the cool air.

“Cold up there? If you agree to date me, I’ll let you pull up the covers.”

“Rami!” I said swatting at him as I tried to reach for the comforter.

“Nope. Date me.”

I laughed as he squeezed me, his face splitting into a grin as he knew I was trapped.

“Be serious!”

“I’ve never been more serious. You can’t tell me that wasn’t special—you literally cannot tell me that something hasn’t been working to push us together during this tour? How many mudslides could have possibly happened at that exact moment in that exact location at the exact time we all lost service for our cells? Hmm?”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“I already couldn’t stop thinking about you before that trip—fuck, that’s why we went on the trip. Now, imagine how much I thought about us after sharing a bed with you?”

I didn’t know what else to say so I kissed him. I kissed him because he was right. I kissed him because I was half in love with him already. I kissed him because I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. And I kissed him because no matter what tomorrow brought, I wanted to know that he would be there for it.

“Is that a yes?” Rami said smiling, knowing damned well it was a yes.

“Yes,” I said with an exaggerated huff.

“Good because I’m freezing!” he said, finally releasing me so he could reach down to pull the covers over us.

I shook my head and settled on to my side, waiting for him to wrap his arm around me, just like he did in Italy.

Rami shifted closer, his lips pressing kisses into my back as his arm finally wound around my waist.

“Better not hog the covers this time,” Rami said, his voice husky with impending sleep.

I snuggled back into him, smiling as I fell asleep, no longer needing to rely only on the memory of Rami’s arms around me as we shared a bed.

Tags: @ramimedley @clumsybookworm18 @r-ahh-mi @aboutthatmelancholystorm @alottanothing @sherlollydramoine @txmel @diasimar @hah0106 @flipper-kisses@rami-malek-trash @ramisgirl512 @dancing-disco-deacy @just-a-queen-bee @eightiesriot @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r @breadnbutternips

#rami malek #Rami Malek x reader #female reader #very very small guest starring roles for #Joe Mazzello #Gwilym Lee #Rami Malek smut #fluffy smut #bed sharing au #bed sharing #bohemian rhapsody #borhap fic

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softdadcarlos · 4 years

Text

Sweet Night

Masterlist

Fandom: Resident Evil/Biohazard

Pairing: Jill/Carlos

AU: Family Life

Summary: When they’ve finally physically recovered from the RC incident, Jill and Carlos are still finding it hard to sleep at night.

Warning: THIS IS SMUT

Requested by @theescapingspectre and @runyoubastards as I combined two requests into one as they fit well :) Which means this fic is also inspired by Sweet Night by Kim Taehyung (V from BTS).

Carlos sighed as he looked at the empty side of the bed, unable to fall asleep. No matter how much work he did in the garden to cultivate his crops or tended to his chickens, he couldn’t sleep unless Jill was next to him. And at that moment, she was in her office, doing what she had been doing for the last two months - trying to figure out who hired Nicholai and tracking the movements of Umbrella. And as much as he didn’t want to get in her way because her mission was important to the both of them, he had seen the exhaustion in her eyes earlier in the day. He turned over and spotted the time. 3 A.M. He should bring her to bed.

He pushed himself out of bed and padded down the hall to Jill’s office. Whenever he looked in, he always wondered if that was the state lived in before the incident of Raccoon City. She had told him about Arkley Mansion, her suspension and her independent investigation into Umbrella. It put their initial meeting into perspective and why she was wary at first. Handwritten notes and photographs sent to her by Chris were pinned up on the walls, documents were strewn across her desk and there she was, fast asleep next to a nearly clean plate of what he had made for dinner. He smiled, at least she was eating, although he did miss her at dinner. It was unusual for him to have to eat alone, it was only when she felt like she had found a lead that she would seclude herself.

Gently, he shook her awake “Jill, amor, you’re gonna have a bad back sleeping like that.”

She grumbled and blinked up at him, “What time is it?”

“It’s just past three in the morning.”

“Oh… It’s only been 10 minutes, shouldn’t be that bad.”

Carlos was so endeared he couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on her lips, feeling her smile against him before he leant back, “Come to bed.”

“Still can’t sleep without me?” Jill asked, her brows drawing in concern.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I know you want to find who was responsible-”

“Don’t apologize. Come on, let’s get you some sleep.”

Jill got out of her seat and held out her hand for him to take, which he did gladly. He pulled her into him, arms wrapping around her waist as his forehead came to rest against hers.

“You work so hard, I wish I could be of more help. But I really don’t think I could stomach seeing any more death.”

Her hands came up to cradle his face, going up on her toes to give him a quick peck, “I know. Going from FARC to U.B.C.S. You’ve seen more than your fair share. I do this so that you won’t have to see those kinds of horrors again. So no one else has to go through what we did.”

In that moment, Carlos couldn’t help but blurt out the feeling that has been on the tip of his tongue since they fought Nicholai on that rooftop, “Te amo.”

A shy smile graced Jill’s lips, “Je t’aime aussi.”

He pulled her impossibly closer, closing the gap between them. This kiss was full of pent up emotion, pushing aside their exhaustion with the relief that came from feelings being realised. Jill’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she met his passion head-on, only breaking away to breathe just to pull him in again. His hands drifted down to her thighs, lifting her up. God, he was glad he had set up a home gym. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he broke the kiss to walk the two of them to the master bedroom. Jill littered his neck with pecks and nips that were bound to leave little marks.

Upon reaching the bed, he set her down and tilted her head so that he could look directly into her eyes, “If this is heading where I think it is, I need to know that this is what you want.”

Jill rolled her eyes at him, “Carlos, you made it clear back in that hotel that the only thing stopping you was my injuries. I’m all healed up now.”

If Carlos had been any other man he might not have understood the implicit meaning behind her words. But Carlos was not any other man. In the couple of months he had known and been living with Jill, he’d come to understand that she tended to leave things unsaid. And this moment, what she had done was given him the consent he was looking for.

He wasted no time in pulling his shirt off and although Jill had seen him shirtless plenty of times before, she could feel heat fill her cheeks. Jill’s hands grabbed the hem of her tshirt, fighting with herself internally before finally tugging it up and over her head. Her torso was laid bare to Carlos’ eyes as she didn’t bother with a bra most days, rarely ever leaving the house so she could stay under the radar. Carlos could tell she was self-conscious by how one of her hands covered the scar on her arm. The one left from Nemesis infecting her. He sat on the bed next to her, moving her on to his lap as he started placing gentle kisses on every scar he could see. In his eyes, they were beautiful.

Each mark a badge of her efforts to try and do what’s right. The scars on her left arm were from when she fought that beast on top of a car park to draw it away from civilians. Burn marks on her shoulders from where she had to explode a canister to escape it with the vaccine to save the city. And although both ended in failure, he didn’t blame her because she had tried so hard and it was ultimately Umbrella at fault for her failing.

His hands gingerly traced her ribs as if they were still broken. He could feel the uneven diverts, evidence of the trauma they received. They brushed the underside of her breasts, making her squirm slightly above him.

He stopped and pulled back to look up at her, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jill assured, her hands coming up to rest on his, encouraging them to continue their journey up to her breasts.

Carlos’ breath caught in his throat, his brain short-circuiting for a second at the feel of them in his palms, warm and soft. “Can I…?”

Jill stifled a laugh, “You don’t have to ask Carlos.”

He frowned up at her, “Yes I do. I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I trust you,” She said, biting her lip as she watched him.

Carlos gulped, licking his lips as he leant forward to take one of her nipples into his mouth, giving it a quick light bite before laving it with his tongue. Jill moan above him, her hands winding into his hair, not pulling or tugging just holding him as he kissed across her chest to do the same to her other breast, his beard scratchy against her delicate skin. She squeaked when he rolled so she was underneath him, he kissed his way down her stomach, hands working on undoing and pushing down her pants and underwear. With those successfully out the way, he sat up on his knees, taking all of her in.

“Eres hermosa,” He breathed out, almost unable to believe this was actually happening.

His hands skimmed traced a path from the tops of her thighs to under her knees, lifting them to expose more of her to his greedy eyes as he made space for himself between them again.

She was already wet and squirming with impatience, “Are you going to do anything or are you just going to sit and stare?”

At her demand, he trailed kisses down her inner thigh until he reached the apex. This was it. This was really happening. Their relationship was about to take that step. He propped one of her legs up on his shoulder before reaching for her hips, pulling her closer. She could feel his breath on her as he inched closer and then a moan was torn out of her as his tongue swipe up her, tasting her.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands as he ate her out with fervour, one clutching at the sheets beneath her while the other reached down and tugged him deeper into her as she grinded against his mouth. Carlos groaned with each tug, out of pain or pleasure Jill didn’t know, nor did she have the wits about her to care. A coil started to form in her stomach when he focused on her clit, licking, sucking and nipping at it in ways that made her almost delirious. She pushed his hair out his face so she could watch him more clearly and felt her heart stop when his eyes met her. Dark, or most black, with lust and entirely focused on her. To her dismay he moved away, trailing more kisses back up her body. Although that dismay didn’t last long as he thrust two fingers in her, making her cry out.

“Fuck!” It had been a while since she’d last had sex with someone, let alone had the privacy to masturbate so it was a bit of a stretch for her.

His thumb started rubbing tight circles on her clit, distracting her from the discomfort as he finally reached his destination, sucking hickeys onto her neck. Jill was withering and moaning beneath him as he bought her closer to climax, a third finger slipping in to help prepare her for what was to come.

“It’s okay supercop, you can cum. I’ve got you.” Carlos whispered into her ear, feeling her walls flutter and tense around his fingers.

The coil in her belly snapped, sending her over the edge as she came over his fingers with a cry.

Carlos pecked her on the cheek before getting up, “We don’t have any condoms and you’re not on any birth control as far as I know… Is it still okay?”

It took a minute for Jill to get her thoughts together as she laid there panting, “Yeah… it’s okay. Just make sure to pull out.”

Carlos sighed in relief because honestly, he didn’t know what he would’ve done if she had said no. He undid his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. Jill sucked in a breath, how was someone allowed to look so handsome while naked. It seemed almost unfair to her. He climbed back onto the bed, situating himself in his previous position, lining himself up with her centre.

“Don’t you want me to… repay the favour?” Jill asked, making him laugh.

“Maybe another day. Today, let me spoil you because I honestly don’t think I’d last long if you blew me.”

And with that, he slowly pushed into her, keeping careful watch of her face for any signs of discomfort, pausing whenever he felt like she needed a breather. But eventually, he was finally, finally, all the way in. Both of them panting and trying to catch their breath as if they had just gone for a run. His head rested on hers, a hand cupping her cheek as he leant down and kissed her, soft and tender.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move.”

Jill nodded, shifting slightly beneath him, making him groan. She thrust up against him testingly, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as she wantonly keened at the feel of him stretching her out, brushing against her g-spot.

“Move, please move!”

Carlos didn’t need any further command, quick to start a steady rhythm, hand moving to grasp her shoulder. Jill clung to him, her body moving in tandem with his, meeting him thrust for thrust. Each time hitting that spot inside her, a new coil formed in the pit of her belly. The hand on her shoulder moved down to her breast, toying with her nipple. She couldn’t help the moans pouring out of her, lost in the delicious pleasure he gave her. She was rapidly approaching her climax again, sensitive from having already cum once earlier.

“Carlos, please! Please!” she begged not entirely sure what for.

But Carlos seemed to understand, neglecting her breast to lavish her clit with attention. Rubbing it in figures of eight until, eventually, he pinched it, throwing her into ecstasy as she came around him yet again, clinging to his back as she whined out his name.

“Shit shit shit. Voy a acabar!” Carlos could feel his own end approaching, desperately thrusting a few more before pulling out, spilling himself onto her stomach. “Holy shit that was close. I’m not ready to be a dad,” He heaved, chest rising and falling as he tried to fill his lungs.

Jill wasn’t fairing much better, her breathing rapid as she huffed a dry laugh, “Don’t jinx yourself. Could you get me a towel because no offence, this feels disgusting.”

Carlos snorted at her remark, “Give me un momento supercop, just… gotta get my shit together because damn I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

When they finally caught their breath, Carlos headed to the bathroom, wetting a flannel to clean himself up first then heading back into the bedroom to wipe Jill down. He quickly chucked the flannel in their laundry hamper before getting under the covers with Jill, pulling her into his arms as exhaustion finally claimed him. That night neither of them had nightmares.

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I love hearing from you guys! Please tell me what parts you liked!

I do take requests! If you have any feel free to ask for one! But before requesting one please look at my to do list to see if someone has already asked for what you had in mind :) I’m also on twitter @mxbelmounte.

#carlos x jill #jill x carlos #valeveira #resident evil #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #boop

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akeshuu · 4 years

Text

The World Rests, The Heart Doesn’t

Read in on AO3

Fandom: Mystic Messenger Words: 2604 Pairing: 707/MC, but they’re not together really Spoilers for Seven’s route and After Endings ~It is a weird AU where MC resets consciously, Seven was her first love and remembers and the other “routes” were always only platonic~ Now please enjoy this as my first entry to the fandom and the first fic I’ve written in months!!!

Love is a nightmare.

Love is waking up at night in a cold bed. Realizing you’re alone once more.

Love is pain. It’s longing. It is looking at your phone and seeing her name. It is the wish to simply chat with her, joke around, be free… And then the realization that she doesn’t know, doesn’t remember, doesn’t care.

Love is trying to catch her gaze, but seeing her smile for one of your friends instead.

Love is losing your heart, because you can’t control it. It belongs to you.

Love is death, because she unknowingly smashes your heart over and over again.

“I beg thee, God Seven-Oh-Seven, help me escape the fires of this hell!” MC sang overly dramatic and draped her arm over his shoulders, the movement so casual and familiar. His golden eyes searched for hers, but they were closed as she gave him a big smile. Seven’s heart skipped a beat, but it wasn’t out of happiness.

Her smile seemed so fake. All of them did in this timeline.

What was going on inside of her head?

“I somehow find it heart to believe you really need my help. But don’t worry, my Six-Oh-Six! I, the Defender of Justice, will do anything you need!”

“Heh, thanks, but I don’t really need justice right now. I need an escape from Jumin nyan-nyan and Zen’s tears.”

Fair enough. Their second party together had ended half an hour ago, but the RFA had to stay afterwards and clean up. Needless to say, they had yet to even start doing so. Inviting a cat-girl fan club turned out to be a huge mistake (In Seven’s defense, he had offered it as a joke and never expected her to approve… he should have known better), for Jumin had somehow gotten his hands on fake cat ears, tail and paw-gloves and was currently teasing Zen. This Jumin was a rare sight to behold and usually Seven would be enjoying herself, secretly documenting the whole night on his phone and joining in on the fun. But now, he felt too out of place.

“Okay, my beautiful princess, what do you want to do then?” He asked.

“How do you feel about a night walk?”

“And ditch them all here before we’ve even started cleaning?” This didn’t really sound like her.

“I do feel bad about Jaehee,” MC admitted “but they’ll manage without us. Come!”

She took his hands without waiting for a response and pretty much dragged him towards the exit.

The night breeze was cool against his skin. It was a beautiful clear night and he cursed the city for its lights. The stars were probably fascinating view from the mountain. He wanted to see them.

Despite for MC’s previous excitement, they walked side by side in silence. She had put one of her hands in her pocket of her jacket, but the other somehow refused to let go of his.

Seven wanted to ask her a question or break a joke. He longed to hear her voice, but couldn’t bring himself to break the silence.

It felt warm and welcoming. Her soft breathing eased his nerves. It was familiar.

And he hated it.

For things were different this time. She wasn’t his. He wondered if she ever had been. That time seemed as nothing more than a faraway memory at this point. He still treasured those little quiet moments, had gotten used to being with her.

He had no right to feel this way. Being by her side, holding her hand, and letting their hearts beat to the same rhythm, as if trying to become one… He didn’t deserve any of it.

“Luciel” she rarely called him by that name. He hated the sound of it on her lips. “If you had the choice to save your friends but hurt the one you care about the most or make that one happy and let the others on their own… Which would you choose?”

Her voice sounded so weak and quiet. Why?

“I’m a god, remember? Of course I can save everyone and still be charming as hell while doing it!” He lifted his arm, striking an unconvincing superhero pose.

“Please, just answer.”

What? No retorts? No joke? Not their usual goofing around?

Seven sighed.

“I probably would chose protecting that one person I love the most.” Saeran’s face popped into his head. Every time they had gone back to that day, the first thing he would do was figure out how to get ahold of his brother. He would always find him and just as he was about to find a way to get him out of that hell, they would go back in time again. But every time when he did it, he was prepared to leave the RFA behind to safe Saeran. It was no question that he would chose Saeran over any other person. Perhaps even over MC.

And that was exactly one of the reasons he was so worried this time. Because… it was different. Not only had it passed three whole months and MC hadn’t fallen in love with anyone, but Seven couldn’t find Saeran no matter how hard he tried. He had already gone to Mint Eye, found his way into the building, spied for a total of four days without being noticed… And nothing. He saw Rika, she was there and out of her mind. But the hacker’s room was empty the whole time and everyone kept gossiping that Rika’s favorite puppet Ray had suddenly ran away. That must’ve been Saeran, he realized. But where had he gone?

MC breathed slowly in, then out. The sound brought him back to reality.

“Do you-“ she nervously switched her weigh from one leg to the other- “Do you think I made the right choice then?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, although he already had a suspicion. However, it was too good to be true.

“I sometimes feel as if what I did was wrong, although I doubt that I would’ve changed anything if I had the chance. Still, I need to tell you that I’m sorry, Saeyoung,” her shoulders trembled as a sob escaped her lips. Seven could do nothing but stare in disbelief. “I’m sorry for leaving you all that time ago.”

She remembered. She remembered all of it!

But then…

“Why did you leave me then? And-“ whether it was sadness, anger or jealousy that creeped its way into his voice at that moment, he couldn’t say- “how could you fall in love with everyone if you remembered all the times before?”

“I didn’t fall in love with them. I don’t know what it was like from your eyes, but nothing really happened between me and any of the RFA members. I just wanted to help them heal after all the pain that… Rika left behind.” Seven had a suspicion that “Rika” wasn’t what MC wanted to call her at first. “And besides that, they weren’t the reason I decided to go back in time again the first time. I never expected you to remember, though.”

It took a second for Seven to realize what she was telling him. So MC somehow had the power to go back in time? And she had never actually been together with anyone but him. That didn’t sound right, because she had looked so happy with everyone else… And yet, no matter how hard he tried, Seven couldn’t recall one time when she had kissed anyone else or stolen loving glances while she thought the others weren’t looking. She had wanted to help them heal and had succeeded. Now, even though none of them showed any indication of remembering the other timelines, they all seemed peaceful somehow. As if they subconsciously knew of their time together and had faced their fears and insecurities.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Seven asked.

“Because,” MC offered a sad smile, “I have no intention of ever going back again.”

“You said your reason at first wasn’t to help our friends. And there were two times different than the others… Two times were you never joined us. Are those things related?”

She seemed to shudder at whatever memory that question recalled. Then she nodded and breathed in. She was reading herself to respond, Seven realized.

“I loved you more than I had ever loved anyone, you know. But once I met your brother, I knew that there would always be someone more important to you than me. And honestly, I was okay with that.” Her eyes glittered with the memories of other times. “But months went by and he never got better. He only got worse, actually. I knew he loved you, but too much things had happened too fast. Losing Rika and then finding out that everything he believed in was a total lie, knowing that he was used, drugged and abused… And on top of that, the guilt of murdering V… It was too much for Saeran to bear he wasn’t able to heal from that. I knew that you would never be really happy this way, either. So I decided to give him another shot in life. The first time I “reset”, I declined joining the RFA and instead let him take me to Mint Eye. I had in mind to slowly reveal the truth to him. I wanted to make him trust me enough to agree meeting you and help him find his way. I wanted him to find out who he was on his own and finally come to terms with his past… But turns out he remembered, just like you did.” She gulped and stopped. It took a minute or two before she could speak again. “He wasn’t happy at all that “Saeyoung’s dog had come to ruin his life once more” and-and that was it.”

Seven knew there was more to it, but he also knew he shouldn’t pry more. It was obvious by the way her body tensed or how her gaze seemed unable to focus.

“But last time, I finally managed to talk to him! It was mainly pure luck that I bumped into Ray instead of Saeran,” she mumbled the last few words. Seven wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, so he made a mental note to ask later what exactly the deal with Ray and Saeran was.

“But I somehow managed to talk to him and get him to trust me. He turned out to be such an incredible person beneath all of that and he was actually the one who made me reset again. Wait, I want to show you something.”

She then took her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it with a few movements. Only when she let go of his hand to do so, did he realize that their arms had been linked during the whole conversation.

He was confused. The conversation had brought a new weight with it, one that was threating to beat him to the ground and make him fall, fall, fall. He felt angry and betrayed. When she had left him for the first time, it felt as if he was being left all alone. He felt unworthy of love and utterly useless, but at least he thought that she didn’t remember. Knowing she hadn’t left him on purpose gave him at least a drop of hope that he was still worthy of living and perhaps even worthy of her, if she went to all the trouble of really getting to know him again.

Now he knew better. Knowing she had indeed left him by choice broke him. But at the same time, she had done this for him and their friends, and for his brother. She had suffered as well, but for his sake. And realizing that she hadn’t let go of his hand during her confession brought a warm feeling to his heart that he had deemed long lost.

“Here,” she said and handed him her phone.

It was a private message in the RFA messenger, but with Unknown. His heart clenched at that.

“Please, read it,” MC said.

And so he did.

Unknown: I hacked the messenger, so here you go. Welcome to the RFA… again.

Now go get your man

And now that that’s done…

I’m leaving Mint Eye

Just as I promised.

MC…

Please don’t tell him yet. I’m still not ready to see him. But someday I will.

Thank you.

“But I still don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me about all that when you joined us this time, three months ago? Or why are you telling me about Saeran, when he asked you not to?”

MC kicked a stone with the point of her shoe and watched it as it rolled down the pavement and on the street. She waiter for it to stop before speaking up.

“Perhaps it was selfish of me,” she explained, “but I was scared that you would get mad and never forgive me for consciously leaving you and prying into your and your brother’s lives when I had no right to. I avoided the truth in fear of you leaving me, which is kind of hypocritical considering the way I disappeared, but… I hoped that you wouldn’t be that disappointed in me if I reconnected you with Saeran right after that.”

Seven blinked in confusion. Before he could gather his thoughts to ask any of the questions he wanted, she put a finger to his lips and shook her head.

“Don’t ask any questions yet,” she almost begged, “Just wait with me in silence for a few minutes.”

At first he thought of ignoring her plea and ask her what was on his mind anyway. He wanted to know how she really felt towards him. He wondered why she was so scared when she had done all of this to help his brother and let them rebuild their family again. He longed to know what was going on with Saeran and what she had meant with that last bit.

But in the end he nodded and kept slowly walking at her side, their shoulders accidentally brushing against each other’s.

There was a motorcycle on the street, coming from in front of them. Seven paid it little to no attention. It was nothing out of the ordinary, after all. But MC’s eyes were glued to it and the moment it stopped right beside them (How the hell didn’t the driver fly out of his seat after stopping so suddenly from that speed?) did Seven realize why exactly that was.

“Hello, brother,” Saeran took off his helmet and offered a smile.

Saeyoung had a lot to figure out. He had to get to know Saeran and learn how to be a brother again. He had to figure out some things on his own, before offering himself to MC once more. There were many things left to learn, but at least he had already found out how to be Saeyoung again.

He was slowly learning one thing: the meaning of love.

For love is no pain and suffering. No nightmare.

Love is a dream. Love is a promise. Love is the goal of making someone happy, even if it means losing yourself.

Love is the gift of a warm smile, reserved only for you.

Love is the affection of your brother, even when hid behind salty remarks and grumpy sighs.

It is waking up and realizing that you’re not alone in the world.

Love is family.

If there is something Saeyoung knows that Seven never would, it is the meaning love.

#rosi writes #mystic messenger #mm #mysme #mysmes #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #seven #luciel choi #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #saeran choi #rfa #au #reset theory #mint eye

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just-another-obsessed-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Lover (2019) Sentence Prompts

feel free to change pronouns and other specific details

How many days did I spend thinking ‘bout how you did me wrong?

Lived in the shade you were throwing ‘til all of my sunshine was gone

I couldn’t get away from you

In my feelings more than Drake

Your name on my lips, tongue-tied

Free rent, living in my mind

But then something happened one magical night

I forgot that you existed

I thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t

It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference

Got out some popcorn as soon as my rep started going down

Laughed on the schoolyard as soon as I tripped up and hit the ground

I would’ve stuck around for you, would’ve fought the whole town

Would’ve been right there, front row, even if nobody came to your show

But you showed who you are

Sent me a clear message

Taught me some hard lessons, I just forget what they were

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price

You know that I bought it

I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

It’s new, the shape of your body

It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got

It’s a cruel summer

It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em

No rules in breakable heaven

Hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine

We say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times

We’re not trying

Cut the headlights

Summer’s a knife

I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

I’m drunk in the back of the car

I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, “I’m fine,” but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer

Just to seal my fate

I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil

We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

This is our place, we make the rules

There’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close?

Take me out and take me home

You’re my lover

We could let our friends crash in the living room

I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true

You’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

At every table, I’ll save you a seat

I would be complex

I would be cool

They’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to

That would be okay for me to do

Every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you

I’d be a fearless leader, I’d be an alpha type

When everyone believes you, what’s that like?

I’m so sick of running as fast as I can

I’d get there quicker if I was a man

I’m so sick of them coming at me again

If I was a man

I’d be the man

I hustled, put in the work

Shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve

And they would toast to me

What’s it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models?

It’s all good if you’re bad and it’s okay if you’re mad

I’d be a bitch, not a baller

They paint me out to be bad

It’s okay that I’m mad

I’m ready for combat

I don’t want that, but what if I do?

Cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold on to you

I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay?

I search for your dark side

What if I’m alright right here?

I cut off my nose just to spite my face

I hate my reflection for years and years

I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

All of my heroes die all alone

They see right through me

Can you see right through me?

I see right through me

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men, couldn’t put me together again

All of my enemies started out friends

His footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can’t stop

His hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans

It’s like I’m seventeen, nobody understands

He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue

Wanna see what’s under that attitude

I want you, bless my soul

I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

I’ll make myself at home and he’ll want me to stay

He’d better lock it down or I won’t stick around

Good ones never wait

He’s so obsessed with me and, boy, I understand

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We could follow the sparks

I’ll drive

Where we gonna go?

You know I adore you

I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen

I’m lost in the lights

Ripped up my prom dress

Running through rose thorns

I saw the scoreboard and ran for my life

No cameras catch my pageant smile

I counted days, I counted miles

It’s you and me, that’s my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, “She’s a bad, bad girl”

The whole school is rolling fake dice

You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

We’re so sad, we paint the town blue

Voted most likely to run away with you

My team is losing, battered and bruising

I see the high fives between the bad guys

You are the only one who seems to care

The damsels are depressed

Boys will be boys, then where are the wise me?

Darling, I’m scared

No cameras catch my muffled cries

I don’t really wanna fight, ‘cause nobody’s gonna win

I think you should come home

I’ll never let you go, ‘cause I know this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win

She’s a bad, bad girl

High, like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

I’ve read all of the books beside your bed

Cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life

I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

You’re the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

In the icy outdoor pool, when you jumped in first, I went in too

I’m with you even if it makes blue

Takes me back to the color that we painted your brother’s wall

Without all the exes, fights, and flaws

We wouldn’t be standing here so tall

I want to drive away with you

I want your complications too

I want your dreary Mondays

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

I rent a place on Cornelia Street

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

That’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend

I get mystified by how this city screams your name

I’m so terrified of it you ever walk away

Jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours

Memorize the creaks in the floor

Back when we were card sharks

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street, before you even knew I was gone

You called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I

You hold my hand on the street

Walk me back to that apartment years ago

We were just inside barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings that became my religion

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

Flashbacks waking me up

I get drunk but it’s not enough

The morning comes and you’re not my baby

I look through the windows of this love even though we boarded them up

Chandelier’s still flickering here

I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

I dress to kill my time

I take the long way home

I ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright, they say, “I don’t know”

What once was ours is no one’s now

The only thing we share is this small town

It was a great love, one for the ages

If the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?

My heart, my hips, my body, my love

Tryna find a part of me that you didn’t touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug

Now I’m searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united we stand

Our country, guess it was a lawless land

Quiet my fears with a touch of your hand

Paper cut stings from out paper-thin plans

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust

Tryna find a part of me you didn’t take up

Gave you so much, but it wasn’t enough

But I’ll be alright, it’s just a thousand cuts

I love my hometown as much as Motown

Something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives

You know I love a London boy

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you

I guess all the rumors are true

Boy, I fancy you

Now I love high tea

You can find me in the pub

We are watching rugby with his school friends

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride

Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

God, I love the English

Doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Stick with me, I’m your queen

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair

I didn’t tell you I was scared

That was the first time we were there

Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you

Desperate people find faith

Now I pray to Jesus too

Soon you’ll get better

You’ll get better soon ‘cause you have to

I know delusion when I see it in the mirror

You like the nicer nurses

You make the best of a bad deal

I just pretend it isn’t real

I’ll paint the kitchen neon

I’ll brighten up the sky

I know I’ll never get it, there’s not a day that I won’t try

I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to?

What am I supposed to do if there’s no you?

This won’t go back to normal, if it ever was

It’s been years of hoping

I keep saying it because I have to

You’ll get better

We were crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I’d die for you?

We were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us

Remember how I’d fly to you?

I can’t talk to you when you’re like this

Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town

I’m New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

The road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith

We might just get away with it

Religion’s in your lips

Even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship

The altar is my hips

We’d still worship this love

I know heaven’s a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey

Hell is when I fight with you

We can patch it up good

Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness

Got the wine for you

You can’t talk to me when I’m like this

Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you

You’re the West Village

You still do it for me, babe

You are somebody that I don’t know

Taking shots at me like it’s Patrón

Damn, it’s 7 AM

Say it in the street, that’s a knock-out

Say it in a Tweet, that’s a cop-out

I ain’t tryna mess with your self-expression

I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing ‘bout somebody else is no fun

Snakes and stones never broke my bones

You need to calm down

You’re being too loud

Can you just not step on my gown?

You’re coming at my friends like a missile

Why are you mad when you could be glad?

Sunshine on the street at the parade

You would rather be in the dark ages

Making that sign must’ve taken all night

You just need to take several seats

Try to restore the peace

Control your urges to scream about all the people you hate

Shade never made anybody less gay

We see you over there on the internet

Comparing all the girls who are killing it

We figured you out

We all know now we all got crowns

I blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry ‘til it blows up, ‘til there’s no us

Why’d I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face and I’m to blame

It’s all me in my head

I’m the one who burned us down

It’s not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

I don’t wanna do this to you

I don’t wanna lose this with you

It’s all me, just don’t go

Meet me in the afterglow

It’s so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens

Tell me that you’re still mine

Tell me that we’ll be just fine even when I lose my mind

Tell me that it’s not my fault

Tell me that I’m all you want even when I break my heart

I promise that you’ll never find another like me

I know that I’m a handful

I know I never think before I jump

You’re the kind of guy the ladies want

There’s a lot of cool chicks out there

I know that I went psycho on the phone

I never leave well enough alone

Trouble’s gonna follow where I go

One of these things is not like the others

When it comes to a lover

I’m the only one of me

Baby, that’s the fun of me

You’re the only one of you

Baby, that’s the fun of you

I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me

I know I tend to make it about me

I know you never get just what you see

I will never bore you, baby

There’s a lot of lame guys out there

We had that fight out in the rain

You ran after me and called my name

I never wanna see you walk away

Living in winter, I am your summer

Hey kids, spelling is fun!

There ain’t no I in “team”, but you know there is a “me”

You can’t spell “awesome” without “me”

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

“Wanna hang out?” Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note, sleeping in tents

It’s nice to have a friend

Light pink sky, up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

20 questions, we tell the truth

You’ve been stressed out lately, yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you “Babe”

Have my back every day

Stay in bed the whole weekend

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven

I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

Now I see daylight

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

I became the butt of the joke

I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked

Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke

Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down

Maybe I’ve stormed out of every single room in this town

Threw out our cloaks and our daggers

Because it’s morning now

It’s brighter now

I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me, intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white (but it’s golden)

I can still see it all in my head

Back and forth from New York, sneaking in your bed

I once believed love would be burning red

It’s golden like daylight

You gotta step into the daylight and let it go

I wanna be defined by the things that I love

Not the things I hate

Not the things I’m afraid of

The things that haunt me in the middle of the might

You are what you love

#rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence structure #rp prompts #lover #taylor swift #ts #my posts

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