#Yes I just noticed the gear in the coffee cup | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blossomingmoonlight · 2 months

Text

Undercover

Well I've officially written my first one-shot, a smutty one nonetheless and I hope you like it. I noticed that there are like 0 fics/one shots of daddy Tim Bradford so I took it upon myself to write one.

summary: I used some of episode 7 season 4 where Tim goes undercover and uhm things happen between you.

Warnings: +18, MDNI, vaginal, creampie, handjob, making out, tim having a sir kink, tim being hot as fuck.

Words: 3.7K

tim bradford x fem!reader

It was the early morning of yet another exciting Monday on the job. Only this time you’re annoying yet hot training officer Tim Bradford wasn’t your training officer anymore. Finally you had freedom, even though it felt strange and almost sad even to not ride with him anymore it also felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were deep in thought making your to go-cup of iced coffee when a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Well good morning, you’re awake early.” Jackson grinned in the hall leading to his room. He had been your roommate for about 2 years now and after the academy, joining the LAPD out in the real world, called for a friend who knew what you went through. “Yes of course! It’s our first day of freedom. I’m planning on making it the best day ever so I’m going to be on time and prepared. I don’t want my first day to be a failure, I need to prove to Tim that I don’t need him anymore.” You responded to Jackson while pouring the hot coffee over to the to-go cup.

“You know you don’t need to prove yourself to Tim, he knows how good of a cop you’ve become. I mean I get it but still, today will be great. I just know it.” Jackson said as he walked up to you and gave an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “So no coffee for me?” He asked, pretending to look sad as he watched you add the ice. “Sorry, sorry I’ll make some for you too.” You laughed. When you finished up Jacksons coffee as well you two walked out to your car and headed to the station.

After changing into your uniform you headed into roll call while also pretending not to look for your ex-training officer. You took your seat, now in the second row, and talked excitedly to John about the next phase in your career. Some time passed and everyone had taken their seat, Tim as well, but you pretended not to notice his grumbley voice in the early morning. Something you came to appreciate over the years working with him. However you quickly shut up when sergeant Grey walked in. “Good morning everyone, let’s begin today with congratulations to our rookies who are now P2’s. Good job officer Nolan, West and (Y/L/N) it’s not every year that all the rookies pull through. However this new found freedom without your T.O’s does not mean that you’re off the hook, you’ll still be monitored only you now call your own shots. That would be all for this morning, good luck out there.” Grey finished and you smiled at Jackson and John who were both seated on either side of you.

When you walked out of roll call you caught a glimpse of Tim walking behind you and joining you at your side. “Just because you’re not my boot anymore doesn’t mean that you can slack off now, understood?” Tim lectured as he looked at you sternly. “Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded with a slight smile, you couldn’t help but think he needed to lecture you one last time before you went out on your own but just as you were about to point that out to him Jackson joined your “conversation”. “(Y/n) we should ride together today, already got it approved by Grey.” Jackson smiled. “That sounds great Jackson, let’s grab our gear.” Jackson agreed and you wished Tim good luck today as you headed to grab your gear. You and Jackson then set up the shop and left to go out on patrol. After a couple of calls that were fairly timid you drove yourself and Jackson to the food trucks nearby where your fellow officers were already enjoying a well deserved lunch. The day went on pretty swiftly with nothing major other than a robbery in a convenience store. When the suspect was processed you got called over by Lopez wanting to talk to you about a woman allegedly adding tiger blood in her skin care line and asking if you could join Tim in interrogating her as you were always good at getting a confession out of suspects and Tim could use a hand.

You accepted the challenge and headed over to the interrogation room where Tim and the woman would be. The door creaked as you opened it, Tim’s eyes on you as you entered the room and stood beside him. “I’m officer (Y/L/N), I will be asking you some questions, Mrs Carter is it?” You asked the older woman sitting opposite of Tim. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Officer Bradford is already questioning me.” Mrs Carter almost sneered, clearly she wasn’t happy with the situation. “Well Mrs Carter I am here to uh... learn, I haven’t been on the job long and need some experience, so I hope you won’t mind.” You quickly answered, glancing at Tim who was standing next to you, looking a bit annoyed. “I understand that you recently started your own skin care line?” You asked her while skimming through her file. “Yes we’re a small operation but we’re growing.” She smiled proudly. “We’re hoping to get a write up in Goop.” She continued. “I-I don’t know what that is.” Tim looked at you confused. “I’ll explain later.” You told him, putting the file down. “A friend of yours gave us your night cream, she claimed that it contains tigers blood, like, literally blood from an endangered animal.” You stated. “Firms the skin right up.” She smiled, as if this was completely normal. You almost gasped at her quick confession and looked surprised at Tim before you pointed out, “Participating in the endangered animal trade could land you in jail for up to five years.”

“You don’t understand the wellness game. It’s cutthroat. I need to stand out. How else am I gonna compete with Sloan and her vitamin business? I mean everybody knows that her B-12 rejuvenation pills are just benzos in fancy bottles.” She mused while crossing her arms. Tim gave you an astonished look, which you returned. “Um, she’s selling psychiatric drugs?” You asked the woman. “Oh, the whole ‘westside buffet.” Mrs Carter shrugged. “What’s Sloan’s last name?” Tim exhaled, knowing that this was going to be a dragging one. After some time you and Tim found the woman Mrs Carter had talked about and she was brought in the interrogation room where you two waited for her.

“Take off your sunglasses, ma’am.” Tim sighed at the woman with the big round sunglasses while she was crossing her arms. “Do I have to? These fluorescent lights give me vertigo.” She asked, annoyed. “Okay well that could be the least of your worries. We’ve been informed that you’re selling psychiatric drugs as a vitamin.” Tim continued. “Who said that?” The woman scoffed, now taking off her sunglasses. “Doesn’t matter.” Tim cut her off. “I’m helping people. What’s the problem?” She expressed. Tim rolled his eyes. “You can’t prescribe a controlled substance without a medical license.” You told her. “My husband is a doctor, it's the family prescription pad.” The woman said as if it was obvious. “Yeah that’s not a thing.” You objected, you could feel that Tim was over it. “Look I don’t think you’re hearing me, this makes you a drug dealer.” Tim explained, now getting more irritated. “And given the circumstances a pretty high level one. You could be looking at twenty years in prison.” He continued. “What?! No, no, no, no, no. This whole thing has gotten terribly out of hand. Who ratted me out anyway?” She stuttered. “It was Aston wasn’t it? She’s been trying to break me down ever since I stole her portrait painter. Like she needs to be hung on a wall. You want a real crime to chase? Aston’s trying to hire a hitman.” She claimed almost proudly. “Wh- What do you mean?” You asked her confused. “Her husband's worth more dead than alive, so she’s been on the dark web trying to hire someone to kill him.” She smiled. You and Tim both sighed and looked at each other, this was bigger than you thought. The both of you knew what you had to do, so with permission from Grey, Tim would go undercover as a hitman to try and get the woman to say word for word she wanted her husband dead.

After you got the equipment sorted in the van you waited for Tim to arrive in the parking lot with the Mercedes as the setup vehicle, while the van you were in was parked next to him. You heard a car arrive and opened the door of the van to greet Tim who was now parking the car. “Okay, oh... that’s your disguise?” You asked him smiling, he looked like a completely normal man, not at all like a criminal. “This is what real hitmen look like.” He scoffed as he now stood in front of you. “That is not the point. Come on, get in.” You said ushering him inside the back of the van. He sighs while stepping in the van, sitting down as you climbed in as well, closing the sliding door behind you before you took a seat close to him. “What I’m wearing is fine.” He claimed. “Okay, third rule of undercover work. Know your audience. You are not trying to fool another criminal. You’re trying to fool a woman who gets her ideas about crime from Lifetime movies. Put it on” You explained as you hold the black blazer out to him. “Fine.” He said as he almost ripped the blazer out of your hands. “Thank you.” He removed his open zip up hoodie and instead put the blazer on. “Oh my god.” He scoffed, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah, that’s much better.” You smiled. “I look like an idiot. I’d pull me over in a heartbeat.” Tim sighed. “Exactly, because you look the part.” You said while handing him the earpiece. “Alright mic me up, let’s get this over with.” Tim said as he raised his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You tried to play cool but couldn’t help taking a peek as you peeled the back of the sticker part of the mic off and reached over to stick it on Tim’s chest. “It's a little too high.” Tim said as you stuck the mic on him. “I know what I’m doing.” You said slightly annoyed. You checked the mic and waited for the woman as she should be at your location soon, so Tim moved over to the Mercedes, while you moved so you could listen in and record their conversation.

After some time the woman pulled into the parking lot and Tim stepped out of the car. She pulled up next to him, turned off the engine and rolled down her window. “You made sure you weren't followed?” Tim asked her as he leaned down near her window. “Yes. I drove around in circles for like half an hour.” She said with a smile on her lips. Tim then entered the car as you watched closely, the thought of his toned abs still in your mind. “So, how does this work?” The woman asked curiously. “Well, that's up to you. Your ad indicated you have a problem with your husband?” Tim started. “Yes. I need him to not be alive anymore.” She told him. “Hm, that’s not gonna be enough. We need her to spell it out.” You told Tim in his ear piece. “Do you want it to look like natural causes? A suicide? Homicide?” Tim continued. “Must be a lonely kind of life being a hitman.” She flirted. “It can be.” Tim tried to answer her neutrally. “So you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “Oh my god. She’s hitting on you.” You laughed in Tim’s earpiece. “No, not at the moment.” Tim confessed. “You see the thing is the fee varies depending on the method, so I need you to tell me what you want.” Tim tried to press on, only the woman seemed interested in something else. "Ooh. What I want changed a little when you got in the car.” She flirted while putting her hand on Tim’s that rested on his knee. “Wait, is she touching you? She’s touching you, isn’t she?” You laughed again through his ear piece, enjoying this a little too much while Tim is a bit stumped but stays in character. “Look I am down to do whatever you want.” Tim said. “Yeah you are.” You chuckled softly in the ear piece. “I just want the business out of the way first.” Tim continued. “So it’s 20.000 for a straight murder, 25 if you want it to look like suicide.” “Sexy, I’d pay you twice that to kill the bastard.” She said while leaning in a bit. “And the bastard is?” Tim smiled. “My husband obviously.” The woman smirked. “Yes, got her.” You said in Tim’s earpiece. “You know once he’s dead, I’ll be a very wealthy woman.” She smiled. “You’re under arrest.” Tim said while holding up his badge. Finally you got her, so you called for backup on the scene so the woman could be taken to the station in a police car. Tim walked back over to you, you still being in the back of the van. “Well great job we got her.” You smiled as you took off your headset and let Tim in the van. “She really was thirsty, my god.” He said while closing the sliding door behind him and getting in to remove the blazer. You sat across from him secretly watching, hoping to get another glance at his toned chest. Tim lifted his shirt to remove the mic and handed it to you.

“What is it?” He asked you, shit he caught you. “What- Nothing I- I just waited for you to hand me the mic!” You stammered out, a deep blush creeping on your skin and on the tips of your ears. “Really? You didn’t want a show?” Tim grinned, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “No I did not! What are you even talking about!” You scoffed now looking away from him, but still close enough for him to see your blushing features. “I saw you looking earlier, I don’t blame you.” He said looking you up and down. You were in your own clothes as you weren’t on patrol and you were wearing a white sundress with pretty blue flowers all over it. You looked down at your lap shyly. Then you felt Tim coming closer and he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “(Y/n) are you attracted to me?” He spoke softly, with his sultry voice. “What- no I wasn’t even- no I don’t- I don’t know... maybe?” You stuttered now your face was really burning, not only from the embarrassment that you were attracted to your superior officer but also from the touch of his fingers on your chin. “So you are.” Tim smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. You however still looked away from his piercing blue eyes, knowing that once you gave in, you couldn’t look away. “(Y/n) look at me.” Tim instructed, grasping your chin a bit harsher but not as to hurt you. You gave in and looked at him, at his handsome features, his stubble, his pretty eyes and his perfect hair. He was almost too much, and the smell of his delicious cologne wasn’t helping either.

He looked directly in your eyes as well and leaned in closer, the tips of your nose touching, lips a breath apart. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and your breathing became heavier. After a moment he closed the gap between you and claimed your lips with his. His lips were even better than you could’ve ever imagined, soft and pillowy but slightly chapped as well, which for some reason made them even better. As you kissed him back you felt like your entire body was on fire, you moved your hands from his knees to his neck, holding on for dear life, feeling if you let go, you would lose him forever. He moved his right hand to your cheek while the other pulled you in his lap by your waist, now moving his right hand on your hips as well. The kiss got more heated and his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you let his tongue in and met his with yours. At that moment you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper between kisses. He softly groaned against your lips and his grip on your waist got tighter, he moved you to be right on his groin and gave your hips a squeeze as if asking you to start moving. And you did, you couldn’t not move, the moment was almost overwhelming as you started moving right on his hard on. Your underwear grew wet and you started moving feverishly against him, and then you moved right over his tip causing him to moan in your mouth. His hands moved from your hips to your ass and he started to move you harder against him, the movements alone could make you finish. The fabric of his jeans and the hardness of his erection hitting your clothed clit perfectly. But much to your disappointment he stopped you.

“Sweetheart if you want me to finish already you should continue.” He smiled against your lips. “Let me make you feel even better first.” He whispered as you feel his hands moving from your ass to the inside of your thigh, slowly creeping towards your covered clit and moving his thumb over your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp as he touched you, holding onto his biceps when he moved his fingers inside of your underwear. “Fuck you’re so wet for me. All because of me huh?” He murmured in your ear. He moved his fingers right over your clit, pressing a bit harder to see how you would react. You moaned at his touch. “Tim... please just- touch me, please.” You begged, already high off of his movements. “Maybe I won’t, maybe I like it when you beg for me.” He sighed against your ear, ever so slightly moving his middle finger over your clit. “Please just please touch me.” You continued to beg, needing any kind of release. “Please what sweetheart?” At his words you knew immediately what he wanted to hear, something that you realized he might have loved to hear you say for a long time. “Please touch me... sir.” You almost moaned in his ear. He groaned at this and started moving two fingers right over your wet clit. “Good girl, always knows how to address her superiors.” He breathed in your ear, you could feel him hardening under you even more. He then moved his two fingers inside you, your wet cunt almost sucking them in out of need.

As he fingered you the sound of your wet pussy, your moans and pleas and his heavy breathing could be heard vividly in the otherwise quiet van. “Yes, yes, please sir, please I’m so close.” You moaned in his ear, begging for release. At your words he sped up his fingers, curling them up and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, finally giving you mercy and letting you cum. “Good girl, that’s it. You gonna come for me sweetheart? You gonna cum on my fingers?” He ranted in your ear as the walls inside you contracted while you came, trying to not scream for the whole world to hear. “Oh my god, please I need you inside me Tim.” You begged him, wanting nothing more than to be filled by his big cock. “I’m on birthcontrol so just please fuck me already.” You pleaded, moving your hand to pull down the zipper of his pants and reaching inside his boxers, giving his cock relief. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He groaned against you. You removed his dick out of his pants and moved your hips right above him, sliding your soaked underwear to the side so you could slowly sink down on his aching cock. You both moaned at the feeling and you almost immediately started moving after you grew accustomed to his big size. Holding on to his neck you began moving up and down the noise of his snapping hips on yours and your moans filling the van. He then moved the top of your dress down causing your braless breasts to spill out, which Tim decided to knead. After a few moments he moved that same hand to your ass, under your dress and smacked it hard.

“Oh fuck... oh fuck, you feel so good sweetheart, keep moving just like that.” He grunted, completely enthralled by the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. “You feel so good sir, just- so- fucking- good.” You moaned as you started moving faster, feeling another orgasm approaching. Tim wanted to fuck you even harder and moved you to your seat so he could put your legs on his shoulders and fuck you deeper which had you screaming in seconds. “Fuck! Tim! Yes! Please, faster, harder please!” You screamed, holding your thighs against you chest so Tim could fuck you deeper. He did as you asked and moved faster and rougher against you, seeking his own high. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum for me?” Tim moaned, moving his thumb to your clit and rubbing it in sync with his movements which made you snap, an overwhelming orgasm overtook you as you moaned his name, walls contracting tightly around his cock. The tight feeling of your wet pussy around him caused him to cum as well, filling you completely with his seed as he moaned your name. After some seconds of calming down he moved to sit down next to you as you felt his cum dripping out of you

“Jesus Christ, we need to work together again huh.” Tim chuckled.

“Definitely” You sighed contently.

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

Well christ that took longer than I thought but I hope you liked it, let me know what I should write next!

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader smut #the rookie smut #tim bradford is hot #we need more tim bradford fics #tim bradford x fem reader smut #tim bradford x fem reader #i should go to bed #i should just shut up

375 notes · View notes

luci4theminorannoyance · 6 months

Note

Idk if you've done this but, the 141+Los Vaqueros reacting to US proposing to them

A/n: I haven’t done this yet! So tada :), gender neutral per usual

Alejandro:

-he wasn’t expecting it in the slightest, even when people tried to tell him beforehand he always thought they were just joking. His eyes went wide to see you down on one knee, right after a long night out for gods sake,

-decided to tease you, saying no before he saw you were being genuine, to which he said yes to with the brightest smile ever.

rudy:

-he had just gotten home, from a very very long mission. His clothes still caked in grime since he was to tired to change before you brought him a cup of coffee that he chugged

-he felt something cold and metal touch his tongue and stopped drinking, seeing the stunning ring placed in his coffee.

-“you do know I could have choked on this If I was too tired to notice it, no mi vida? And the answer is yes, as soon as I sleep enough to even physically be happy.”

ghost:

-he had been home for a couple of months, a comforting time for both of you to simply spend time together if anything. So when you asked him to go out to dinner, in public, somewhere fancy? he KNEW something was up.

-got dressed as quick as he could, a nervous smile showing from under the mask he wore off duty. He expected a new promotion, or something usual.

-eyes went like saucers when he saw the ring you slid onto his finge while eating. A subtle but meaningful proposal; in public but not making a crowd. He truly adored you for it. (And said yes)

Gaz:

-you and him never got any time to spend together with him away at base or on mission all the time

-that was until he fell out of a damn helicopter at least, which got him a month or two of leave just in case something was wrong that the medical staff didn’t catch

-you two took that opportunity as MUCH as you could. Cuddling, kissing, doing hobbies, and basically being attached at the hip

-seeing you get down on one knee while simply in your home, the safe place you two stay? His heart leaped to the point he just stood frozen for a second before saying yes in the most emotional voice possible

roach:

-he had just gotten back off the plane from a mission (and the hospital afterwards). his steps were slow as he found you in the crowd of airport goers before hugging you tightly with tears staining his mask.

-you and him held each other the whole way home in a taxi. It felt like hours to be honest.

-you couldn’t even get down at one knee since he wouldn’t let you go! So you simply held the ring out in the palm of your hand.

-he was tired. Wounded. In full mask and gear. And smiling like a fool.

price:

-he went completely silent. To be honest he didn’t think you would ever propose, let alone ON MSSION.

-he was in the middle of reloading his gun when you were fixing up a wound on your shoulder, you two a few rooms apart and talking through comms

-and then out of the blue, you ask the simple question of ‘captain, if I proposed right here right now would you say yes or no?’

-that made him go silent for a bit before muttering into his comm “oh for gods sake, you really chose the one mission were on together alone? But yes. Yes I’d marry you.”

soap:

-you and him were on a trip to Scotland, a trip he had been BEGGING you to go with him on for years.

-you two had done about anything you could think of there, and today you decided to go out on a hike

-at the very top you proposed to him in just as extravagant way as soap himself was. By pretending to fall off a ledge and sliding the ring on his finger while he pulled you up

-took him a good two minutes to notice because he was too worried about you.

123 notes · View notes

alisonwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

Polaroid ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~

Summary: You find a polaroid of yourself in Ghost's vest.

Author’s Note: This is a part two of When I Was Your Man. I just hardcore simp for this man.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: fluff, implied smut in the end

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Part One

The mission Ghost went to ended becoming bloodier than he thought. The enemy ended up having more people to the 141’s anticipation. Now, he was lying on a table with you fixing him up. Ghost was slightly thankful that it was you patching him up.

“Simon, don’t give up on me now okay?” You tell him.

“I’m fine,” Ghost mumbled as you took off some of his gear to get to his wounds quicker.

“Like hell you are. Just let me patch you up. Okay?” You said.

His okay came out more like a whisper.

“Don’t give up on me, Simon. We still need you,” you tell him.

Ghost fell unconscious from the large amount of blood loss. But you were the best medic there was. So you were able to get him back.

It took five hours to patch him up. You sat on a chair the moment you were finished with Ghost. You knew the other medics were fixing up the rest of the 141 and other task forces who were on the field.

You picked up some of Ghost’s gear off the ground to put it on the counter nearby. You noticed something fall from Ghost’s vest pocket making you bend over to pick it up. It was a small polaroid picture. But not just any picture. A picture of you when you and Ghost were in the woods one night. You can remember that night clearly.

“What do you want in the future?” You asked Ghost. You lied on a blanket as you stared up at the stars. Ghost sat next to you, on alert in case if any enemy came over to you both. However, you both were in a secure area. But Ghost still didn’t trust it.

You had asked him if he wanted to stay outside for a while due to the summer heat. The air conditioning had broken inside the base and you couldn’t stand the heat inside. It felt nicer outside than it was outside. Ghost said yes to coming with you, not only because it would just be you two alone, but because he wanted to protect you in case anything happened.

“Not much.”

“You don’t want to retire and start a family?” You asked him.

It was clear to everyone that you and Ghost liked each other. But you two were stubborn to admit it.

“I think I might die before I could retire,” Ghost said, puffing out his smoke from his cigarette. He offered it to you but you shook your head.

“I hope you don’t die,” you tell him.

“Why’s that?”

“I think you and I both know why,” you said as you stared at him. He looked back at you before getting rid of his cigarette. Ghost climbed on top of you, making you blush.

“You sure you want this?” Ghost asked you.

“With you? Yeah,” you smiled.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Do you trust me?” You asked him.

“Yeah.”

You smiled softly before closing your eyes. You couldn’t see Ghost lift his mask up to reveal his lips. But you did feel his lips press against yours, ever so gently. You smiled into the kiss as you kissed him back.

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your thoughts to look at the door. You saw your boyfriend, Will, walking over with a coffee cup.

Will was another fellow medic who was transferred over to your team a little after you and Ghost had broken up. He was everything you could ever want in a guy. He had liked you the moment he met you.

“Thought you might need this.”

“Thanks.”

“So this is the famous Lieutenant Ghost,” Will said as he looked over at the sleeping Lieutenant.

“Yeah.”

“I heard he’s scary as hell.”

“I’m sure hell is more scared of him than he is of it,” you tell Will.

“If you want, I can stay here while you get some food,” Will tells you.

“No it’s okay. I’m actually not that hungry right now,” you tell him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I’m going to grab something. Text me if you want anything.”

“I will. Thank you.”

When Ghost woke up, he saw you sleeping on a chair next to him. You weren’t in a comfortable position but you looked tired.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled as he tried to get up. You woke up from your nap to see Ghost trying to sit up from the table.

“Simon! Stop! You’re going to open your stitches like that!” You tell him as you stand up. Ghost lied back down as you lightly pushed him back down on the table.

“Am I dead?” Ghost asked you.

“No. But I thought I lost you,” you tell him.

“Y/n-”

“Let me check on your wounds really quick. Just stay still for me for now okay?” You asked.

“Fine.”

You checked on his wounds to make sure they didn’t open up again. Ghost stared at you as you inspected each one carefully. You changed a couple bandages to prevent any infections.

“How long was I asleep?” Ghost asked you.

“A while. But you’re fine now,” You tell him.

Silence fell between you two. Once you were done inspecting his wounds, you looked back at him.

“Simon.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you have this in your vest?” You asked as you held up the polaroid.

“You went through my vest?” Ghost asked. He hasn’t been nervous since dating you. But finding a polaroid of you, made him nervous once again. Maybe even more.

“No. It fell out.”

Ghost didn’t answer you as you handed the picture back to him.

“Simon, please be honest with me. Do you miss me?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that night. I should’ve ran after you,” Ghost told you.

“Simon-”

“I know you’re happy with your boyfriend now. And you deserve someone better than me. But I love you, Y/n. As selfish as it sounds, I want you back. I love you and I will always love you,” Ghost told you. You teared up at his confession.

“Hey, Y/n. I’m going to take over for you cause you need to go to lunch,” your coworker told you.

“Thanks,” you tell them before rushing out the room without another word to Ghost.

Ghost didn’t see you for the rest of the day. Or the next day. But your boyfriend came in to check on him for his wounds. You had given orders to make sure Ghost didn’t leave the room for another day.

“You’re dating Y/n right?” Ghost asked him.

“Actually we broke up. Just last night,” he told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright. I’m not mad at her. I’m just glad I was able to make her as happy as I could when we were together,” Will told him before replacing Ghost’s bandages.

When Ghost was able to sleep in his own bed in his room, he saw you sitting on his bed, waiting for him.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Ghost asked you.

“If I tell you that I want to start again with you, what would you say?” You asked nervously.

Ghost stared at you before closing the door behind him. He locked the door before walking over towards you. You stared up at him as he raised his hand to the end of his mask. He took it off, making your eyes widen a little. You never got to see his face. Mainly because Ghost was too afraid to show his true self to you.

“I would say that I want to do better for you if we start again. I was scared before. I don’t want to lose you because of me. I love you so much, y/n. To the point where it scares me because you’re the only person I know who has given me such a soft touch,” Ghost tells you. You teared up again before standing up.

“Simon.”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Ghost didn’t need to be told twice. He cupped your cheeks before leaning down to kiss you. You kissed him back as you placed your hands on top of his. Ghost pushed you back to the bed before climbing on top of you.

“Simon, you’re hurt,” you tell him.

“I don’t care. Let me feel you again,” Ghost told you before kissing you once more.

“Only if we can go gently for now,” you tell him, still worried about his wounds.

“Alright,” Ghost nodded before kissing you again.

–

You woke up in Simont’s arms as it was wrapped securely around your waist. You turned around to look at Simon as he began to wake up. It was no surprise that he was a light sleeper.

“Morning, love,” Simon said to you before kissing your lips.

“Morning. How’s your wounds?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Cause if you want to do this again, you need to let yourself heal,” you smile softly.

“Remember how you asked me what I wanted in the future?” Simon asked you.

“Yeah.”

“I have a different answer now.”

“And what do you want in the future?”

“You. Me. In a nice house where we can grow old,” Simon told you.

“Would you want kids?” You asked him.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have a great childhood and my father was shit,” Simon tells you.

“But you aren’t him. You’re better than him. Besides, I can imagine two kids with you,” you smiled at him.

“I promise to be better for you this time around.”

“I know. Just talk to me okay?”

“I will. And this time, I am not letting you go,” Simon tells you before kissing you once more.

“Good. I told Price that you need some healing before you guys can go back on the field. So you have about a few more days of healing before you can go back out there,” you tell him.

“I guess I can sleep in a little more. Stay with me?”

“For an hour. I need to get breakfast and I can get you some as well.”

“You can eat with me in here if you want.”

“I’ll take up on that offer. But for now, close your eyes,” you smiled before kissing his cheek.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty imagine #alisonwritesimagines

907 notes · View notes

moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

you’re a cowboy like me

Part 8 of ‘the sweetest con’

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

<- LAST PART

Recovering was a nightmare. I couldn’t be in the field for the case that came after we got home, and even worse, she had become ten times more caring and attentive.

“I brought tea,” she sang out.

She walked into my office for the sixth time that day, two cups of tea in her hands.

“Tea?”

“You don’t need coffee right now,” she stated, setting one mug in front of me as she sat.

I chuckled. “Okay, mom.”

“Ew,” she laughed. “Don’t call me that.”

“You’re the one treating me like a child,” I replied, sipping at the drink. “Is this chamomile?”

She smirked. “I thought maybe if you started getting sleepy you’d go home at an appropriate time.”

“You’re insane,” I laughed.

“You’re healing. Stop staying all hours of the night.”

“Either way, I’ll just be sitting around. What’s the harm in being productive?”

She quirked a brow, just staring at me for a moment. I sighed, setting down the mug, waiting for her reply with half a smirk on my face.

“Sitting down and relaxing is very different from sitting down and working,” she said, leaning back in the seat. “How about I come over and make you some dinner again?”

I swallowed. “This feels like a trap.”

“Maybe it is,” she smiled softly. “We still need to talk. But it might be a little better if you get a free meal out of it, huh?”

“I guess so,” I agreed with a smile. “I thought maybe if I really played up how bad the healing process was you’d forget about it.”

She scoffed out a laugh. “And you thought I was the ridiculous one.”

“Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Actually, I think I can.”

I laughed as she sat up straight again, leaning in closer.

“You’re not escaping this, Hotchner,” she said, hands folded on the desk.

I breathed out, watching her for a moment. She looked at me expectantly, but that little smile of hers never quite left.

“Alright. When do you want to leave?” I asked.

“When can you be ready? Mostly everyone is gone already anyways.”

“Five minutes?”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll go get my things.”

She stood, heading towards the door. Then, she turned back around.

“Maybe this time I’ll drive over separately. I think everyone knows too much already,” she said with a light laugh.

I furrowed my brow. “What exactly do they know?”

She paused for a moment. I could see the gears turning in her head as she looked out over the bullpen, then turned her focus back to me.

“That’s something we can discuss later,” she said, finally leaving.

I finished up my work, and before I knew it we were back in my kitchen. I just hoped this time would go over better than the last. It certainly couldn’t get much worse than her getting insulted for something she had no part in.

I sat at the counter with a glass of scotch, watching her hum to herself as she moved around my kitchen. She’d forced me to stay there no matter how many times I asked to help, and I must admit, I appreciated the view from where I was. She’d changed into more casual clothes on the way to my apartment, donning a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. I could hardly think of a time when she looked more radiant. It felt wholly domestic, especially as I wore a similar fashion. It didn’t happen often that I would dress down to that degree in front of the team, but if she was going to be cooking in my house again, I figured this was a good time. She smiled at me as she noticed I was watching her, then went right back to whatever she was working on at the stove.

“You seem a little distant, Hotchner,” she noted, her back still turned.

I downed the rest of the drink, then cleared my throat.

“Just thinking.”

She hummed. “Do you like cinnamon?”

“Yes.”

“I think this week I’ll bring you some pancakes, then,” she said, turning to face me. “I just realized I almost always bring you savory food when I cook. I love baking and making sweet treats, but I never give you any.”

“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?”

She laughed. “Only accidentally.”

“Well, I’d appreciate that,” I nodded.

She smiled, then turned around again. I watched her for a few minutes. She moved so fluidly, as if she’d been here doing these exact actions a hundred times before. There was a warmth growing steadily in my chest, and I knew it wasn’t just the alcohol kicking in.

I stood abruptly, moving carefully to stand next to her. She turned the heat of the stove off, making some quick comment about me having good timing. The second she looked at me with that little smile of hers, eyes sparkling in the dim kitchen lights, I couldn’t handle it anymore.

Everything that had happened seemed to pale now. This brief moment I spent looking at her felt like an eternity. Maybe because I knew things would have to change if I didn’t stop myself. Maybe because I’d been wanting it to change for so long, and it finally felt like the right moment for it to happen.

It all happened in slow motion, my body moving before I could catch up to it. I saw my hands reach for her, cradling her face. She looked at me the same as she always did, despite knowing what was going to happen. I realized she must have known the whole time. She was reading my mind from the start, regardless of my best efforts to hide it all. I moved in closer, closing the gap slowly, unable to take my eyes off of her. To my surprise, I didn’t have to go all the way: she leaned upwards before I could think, pressing her lips to mine. I let out a breath, my body relaxing as her arms circled around me.

“Hotch?” her voice called out.

I blinked, looking at her from across the kitchen, still sitting at the counter with an empty glass in my hands.

“I said it’s done,” she said with a smile, holding two plates in her hands.

“Right. Sorry,” I said, standing to take one of them.

I led her to the dining table, trying to shake off the daydream, but unable to stop thinking about it.

“What have you been thinking about?” she asked, sitting down.

“Not much,” I said quietly, not yet taking a seat. “Do you need a drink?”

“Please,” she nodded.

I went to the kitchen, getting out two glasses, but realizing too late I didn’t ask what she wanted.

“You’re being weird,” her voice noted from behind me.

I turned, seeing her in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, but there was still humor on her face.

“I am not,” I tried to defend.

She quirked a brow. “Right. Totally normal behavior right now.”

I chuckled, turning back to the empty glasses. She walked up next to me, sighing softly.

“Old fashioned?”

I nodded. “That’d be great.”

She smirked, getting the needed ingredients. I watched as she prepared the drinks quietly.

“Were you a bartender in a past life?” I asked, my arms crossing.

“Actually, I was a bartender for a few months in college.”

I chuckled. “Really?”

“Really,” she smiled, handing me a drink. “Try it.”

I took a sip, nodding with a raised brow.

“Good?” she asked.

“It is.”

We walked back to the dining room, eating without my mind wandering too far again. She laughed and told stories, and I listened with everything in me. It’s a wonder I ate at all. I could’ve sat there all night just watching her talk.

“You know, I love the team, but they are the nosiest people in the world,” she noted, picking at the last of what was on her plate.

“That they are,” I agreed.

“Even Spence and Rossi are in on it, now.”

“In on what, exactly?”

She snorted. “They’ve been watching our every move. To the point of giving me sideways glances if you look at me for a second too long.”

I laughed. “What?”

“They’re crazy, is what,” she said with a laugh. “How have you not noticed that?”

“I have, I just didn’t think it had gotten that bad.”

She smiled, then stood. “Let’s go sit down. These chairs are getting a little uncomfortable.”

I nodded. “Movie?”

“Maybe we can just see what’s on TV.”

“Okay.”

We sat, and quickly found reruns of a show we both enjoyed. It was quiet for a few minutes before she started looking at me.

“I can hear you thinking,” I noted.

“Because I am.”

“What about?” I asked, looking at her.

“Can we talk about why you’ve been so spacey lately?”

I sighed. “I’m just a little distracted.”

“Why?”

“That’s a hard question to answer.”

“Is it?”

I looked down. “We’re going to have to talk about everything now, aren’t we?”

“I’d appreciate it,” she admitted. “We can start off easy. Like, why didn’t you want me coming with that day? Why’d I have to stay at the precinct?”

I leaned into the couch, getting more comfortable for what was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. She mirrored my actions, facing me fully with her feet pulled underneath her on the couch.

“I was afraid that something would happen to you. I had a bad feeling, and didn’t want to be worried about feeling like I needed to protect you.”

“Why would you be worried? That’s never been a problem before.”

“It actually has been,” I admitted to her. “I just hid it much better on those occasions.”

She sat in thought for a moment. “What changed?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Okay, then let’s talk about what you’ve been thinking about that gets you borderline dissociative.”

I chuckled. “Has it been that bad?”

“Yes,” she said with wide eyes, almost laughing. “You never act like that. It kind of freaks me out when it happens.”

“A lot has been on my mind.”

“I’m aware. But why has it gotten to be such a distraction?”

I knew the answer, I just didn’t know how to say it. She stared at me expectantly, but I could only stare back, trying to formulate an answer. She furrowed her brow.

“Okay, easier question: What had you like that today in the kitchen?”

I chuckled. “That’s actually more difficult to answer.”

“Just tell me,” she said, almost whining.

I swallowed. “You want the truth?”

“I will literally beg for it.”

“Alright,” I started, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping me. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “You were— I was distracted because of you.”

She looked delightfully confused. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I smiled again. “I feel like you already know where this is going. But, to be honest, I was thinking about you. That’s what had me out of my head.”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be talking about it.”

“Fine. You have suspicions, then, but want them confirmed.”

She tried hiding a smile. “Okay, profiler.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” she nodded.

“How long have you known?”

She sighed. “I started thinking something was up a few months ago. I can’t pinpoint it, but hearing what you said after Haley came the one day… It definitely made me think a little harder about it.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. She was angry, and that wasn’t your fault.”

“But I’m sorry if what I said made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t.”

I sat for a moment, not yet responding. She took that as a cue to keep talking.

“It kind of made me start thinking about my own actions, and why I was treating you the way I was. It started off because I saw that everyone kind of lifted each other up on the team, but you were almost always doing the work without anyone helping you in return,” she paused for a second, then scooted a little closer. “I think it morphed into something different more recently. I didn’t just want to make sure you were taken care of anymore. That was still very important, but honestly, I miss being around you if I didn’t visit a couple times a day.“

“You do?”

“Yeah. I never get sick of hanging out with you.”

I took in a breath. “Every time I’ve spaced out recently is because of you. You’re always on my mind, and the more I try to fight it, the worse it gets. You’ll walk into a room and it’s everything in me not to let all of my focus stay on you.”

“Oh.”

“It honestly never was a problem when I was married. But the moment I realized you still cared for me when I was broken down, I think that’s when I couldn’t pretend you weren’t one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Hotch—“

“Every time I’m with you, especially when we can really be alone like this, I just don’t want it to end. I know the team talks about things and they like to speculate for fun, but they’re right to assume that I have a soft spot for you…”

“Aaron.”

“Dave has been giving me looks, and I try acting like he’s off base, but he couldn’t be more right. And I know that getting involved with me would probably do you more harm than good. It’s selfish for me to want you in any capacity, but it’s hard not to think about you all the time and wonder what would happen if—“

She moved in closer as I spoke, and in my rambling I hadn’t noticed; until her hand was on my neck and her lips were pressed to mine, effectively shutting me up. I reacted quickly, kissing her back with everything in me. I hoped to show her through actions rather than incoherent babbling how much I wanted to be with her. It must have worked.

She smiled into the kiss, triggering me to do the same, then briefly pulled away.

“I love hearing you talk, but now really isn’t the time,” she mumbled against my lips.

“Understood,” I agreed.

She kissed me again, deepening it almost immediately. We stayed that way for far too long, and it was still over way too soon.

She ran a hand through my hair, pressing one more soft peck to my lips.

“In the kitchen, I was daydreaming about kissing you,” I said, the words tumbling from me almost involuntarily.

“Did it live up to your daydream?” she asked with a smile, not hiding the adoration in her eyes as she gazed at me.

“So much better.”

NEXT PART ->

—————

the sweetest con taglist:

@evee87 @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @rousethemouse @lalalove-56

aaron hotchner taglist:

@mrs-ssa-hotch @hyunjaebaby @ssamorganhotchner @criminalskies @simp4olderm3n

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x you #the sweetest con

147 notes · View notes

straightupsickfics · 6 months

Note

A soft fall prompt for ineffable husbands: Rain 🌧️ / Leaves 🍁 / Warm drinks ☕️. Any combination of these would be so cute, ty friend 🤎

some soft, soggy angel for you <3

****

"Angel, you're soaked," Crowley frowns as Aziraphale comes hurrying back into the bookshop, hair and coat dripping with rain. He's carrying two to-go cups with him, courtesy of the cafe across the street, and he's shivering enough that they're trembling somewhat ominously in his grip.

Aziraphale lifts his eyebrows in surprise, as though he hadn't even noticed. Probably hadn't, actually, too excited about whatever new treat he'd clearly just discovered.

"Just a little," Aziraphale tells him. "Look! Peppermint! That's for me. Black coffee for you. I'd have gotten you something more festive but I know—"

Crowley reaches out and takes both cups from the angel just in time for a sneeze to shiver through him, quick and damp and followed by a handful of sniffles.

"hh'Eishh'oo! Oh, excuse me, snf!"

"You were already under the weather, angel, you should've told me you wanted something—" Crowley starts.

"Oh, don't, it's quite alright my dear, it's just a chill. Even humans don't actually get sick from the rain, you know that's just an old myth."

Crowley's frown intensifies for a moment, but then he exhales, relaxing. There's really no point in arguing; Aziraphale's back now and what's done is done.

"Well, at least let me help you out of those wet things," Crowley offers. "M'sure you don't want to drag wet leaves through your shop," he adds, gesturing to his shoes when he can see Aziraphale gearing up to tell him it's not necessary.

Crowley sets the cups down on the small wooden table beside Aziraphale's overstuffed armchair, then turns back to where Aziraphale is rubbing at his nose. He's still shivering, and the desire to miracle him right back to health is almost overwhelming. It doesn't work like that, though. Unfortunately even angels have to recover the old fashioned way.

"Here," Crowley says, reaching gently around and helping Aziraphale out of his wet coat. His shirt is a little damp, too, and he runs his arms down the length of the angel's arms and chest, warming him through with his touch.

"Oh! Well, that is very nice," Aziraphale admits, cheeks turning pink from warmth or affection or both, and something inside Crowley goes warm, too, at being able to help him like this.

Aziraphale sits on his chair and lets Crowley help him take his shoes off, adding another little flourish of warmth through his socks for good measure. He might not be able to make him feel better, but he can make whatever fall cold Aziraphale has more bearable, anyway.

"h'Ushh'iew!"

Crowley drops a kiss to his nose in place of a bless you, which earns him a fond little smile. "You know, I think I am a little cold, now that I think about it." Aziraphale says, smiling pointedly up at Crowley.

"Mm?"

"Perhaps you should..." Aziraphale gives him another little look and Crowley rolls his eyes, but does what he knows Aziraphale wants and curls himself up just so on his lap.

"You know you can use your words, Angel, you certainly know more than enough of them," he teases, nuzzling into Aziraphale's hair. "Warm enough now?"

"Yes, well. This worked out as intended, I think," Aziraphale says with a congested little sigh. "Here, now, at least try this, it's delightful..."

Crowley accepts the coffee cup, taking a small, quick sip. He's not sure if angels and demons can share germs, but he figures they're well past that now, anyway.

"I'll let you enjoy that," Crowley says, making a face. "I'm good for now."

"Mm, me, too," Aziraphale agrees, letting his head rest against Crowley's shoulder, his eyes falling shut for a long minute. He probably won't sleep, Crowley knows, but they're both more than content to spend the rest of the afternoon just like this, curled up together while the rain falls steadily outside.

#softersteve #good//omens #my fic

31 notes · View notes

thewaywardbirdsnest · 1 year

Text

Forgetting Something?

It was one of those mornings where Zoro’s brain felt like sludge, moving through his routine in a haze of mechanical movements because he was far too sleepy for anything more than bare minimum effort. The timing of his alarm could not have been worse - he had been dreaming deeply (of what? He had no clue) and the abrasive beeping had dragged him out of it. He was definitely going to need to stop for coffee on his way to class.

As he opened the front door to leave, a familiar voice caught his attention: “Hey, moss-for-brains, you forgetting something?”

Zoro turned around to find Sanji peeking out from the kitchen with a smug smirk on his face. Ah, right, how could he forget to kiss his boyfriend goodbye? With a soft, sleepy smile, he doubled back. He reached up to cup Sanji’s cheek and leaned in to peck him on the lips.

Sanji’s cheeks went pink, mouth agape and eyes wide.

“I… uhm… I m-meant these,” he stammered, holding up Zoro’s keys.

Why did he look so embarrassed?

The gears in Zoro’s head started to come unstuck and clicked once, twice, three times.

Oh, shit.

So, that’s what he had been dreaming about.

In the waking world, Sanji was not, in fact, his boyfriend. He was his pain-in-the-ass roommate who, yes, Zoro had a massive crush on but, no, did not reciprocate it (well, at least as far as Zoro could tell). Zoro felt heat creep up his face and his mouth go dry. When he replayed this scene later in his head, he imagined he must have looked like some sort of tropical fish, bright red and mouth opening and closing uselessly as he floundered for words.

“Uh… I… I’msorrythanksbye!”

He plucked the keys out of Sanji’s hand and hightailed it out the door.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything in class that day. All three lectures went in one ear and out the other. He didn’t know if he was upset or relieved that Sanji didn’t text or call. Was he going to have to move out? Christ, could he even afford that right now?

Unfortunately, the will of the universe seemed to be conspiring against him because he has a paper due tomorrow and his laptop was in his room. He’ll just have to cross his fingers and hope Sanji had gone out or is in his room. As he approaches the landing of their floor, Zoro smells baked goods. Oh, this is not good. Sanji was stress-baking.

When he enters their apartment, he spies a couple cooling racks set up on their coffee table. Sanji has already covered every surface in the kitchen - counters, the table, the collapsible baker’s rack he had bought for these occasions. This was bad.

He would have to pass the kitchen in order to get to his room. Maybe if he was quick enough, Sanji wouldn’t even notice him.

Okay, 3… 2…

And then Sanji steps out of the kitchen.

Well, so much for that plan.

“Oh, uh… hey,” Sanji says, not meeting Zoro’s eye.

“Hi,” Zoro replies. He’s suddenly not sure what to do with his hands, for some reason. He settles on shoving them in his pockets.

There’s an awkward silence before Sanji blurts out: “I made the matcha cookies you like!”

Zoro’s face flushes and he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Oh! Uhm… thanks!”

Silence again.

“I’m gonna…” Zoro awkwardly points over Sanji’s shoulder towards their rooms. “I have a paper to write.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.”

Sanji shuffles out of his way, back into the kitchen.

This is awful.

Zoro stalks down the hall to his room. He tries to focus on his paper, but mostly he just stares blankly at his laptop screen, trying to think of what he should do about this mess. Luffy would probably let him sleep on his couch for as long as he wanted to, right?

He’s dragged out of his head when there’s a knock on his door. Well, there’s only one person that could be. He steels himself and gets up to answer it.

Sanji’s apron is covered in flour. He’s got a smudge of chocolate on his cheek (Zoro tries really hard not to think about how cute that is). By Sanji’s own standards he’s a bit of a mess right now.

“I want a do-over,” he demands.

What?

“A… do-over?” Zoro echoes.

“Yeah,” Sanji insists. “I want a better kiss than that pathetic little peck from this morning.”

Zoro’s head is swimming. He can’t mean that, can he?

“So?” Sanji goads him, leaning in to the idea so he doesn’t lose his nerve. “Earth to mosshead!”

Zoro shakes himself out of his stupor. As hard as this is to believe, he is not going to miss out on this. Nervously, he steps forward and lifts one hand to caress Sanji’s jaw while the other comes to rest on Sanji’s hip.

The kiss that Sanji will come to tell everyone was their “real first kiss ‘cause that first one was bullshit” is soft, a little tentative, warm, and tastes like sugar and spices from all the baked goods Sanji had been sampling that day. When they part, Zoro gives Sanji a lopsided grin and asks, “Better, curly?”

“Yeah,” Sanji replies, a little breathless.

“Sanji, I—“

“You’ve got a paper to write, yeah?” Sanji interrupts him. “You should finish it. I’ll clean up, get dinner started. And then we can, uh… we can talk. About this. Okay?”

“Okay,” Zoro agrees. Sanji leans in for one more kiss before turning to head back to the kitchen.

Zoro has never written a paper so fast in his entire academic career.

#zosan #sanzo #prompt fic #prompt generator #accidental first kiss #and they were roommates #college au #stress baking #fluff #bird's twitter threadfic archive

185 notes · View notes

havin-fun-imagining-twd · 1 year

Text

A measure of reverence, Pt. 1

Please accept my genuine apologies for the month long delay again, slowpokes. I do have the next two stories after this typed out, which amazes even me :D

When - the morning of the season 2 Chupacabra episode whooo. For the Slowpoke Series, the morning after A mighty good team.

What - the group is gearing up for another day of searching. There’s caffeine, chattering about an iconic early 2000s TV show, Daryl cracking funnies (”What are you brayin’ at, jackass?”), and Shane’s gradual descent. And you finally primp your eyebrows

Relationships - slow burn Daryl x You at the friendship level growing stronger every day, platonic Glenn, and more.

Perspective - You 2nd, Him (Daryl POV) 3rd

Pronouns? - she/her for convenience

TWs? - some language

Is it super long? - nope, about 3,500 words

Is it boring? - at times, y’all, you know how it is. This one was kept lighter because the next two are a bit darker

Are there plot references to other stories? - aw yeah, here’s a link to the Masterlist, slowpoke

Are there lame screenshots from the episode? - naturally, and word-for-word dialogue!

(never wanted to do a bleach wash for a fictional character’s costume so badly)

................................

Early-morning

................................

your morning

“Your mama said yes?” you check with Jimmy again.

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s smart, he knows the area.” Glenn sounds unsure of himself when he next volunteers, “And hey, after we get back, I can help you with…stuff. What, um, what stuff around the farm needs doing? I grew up helping my parents in the garden?”

While those two talk about that, you see that Lori is up and dressed and already hanging laundry to dry. She didn’t really sleep in as much as she probably needed to, but you call “Good mornin’!” just the same and go over to help her.

Dude, you’ve been buzzing around since 6am. The migraine that hit you last night you were able to pretty much do away with after taking the prescription Glenn found—but you woke up early to desperately use the toilet (not even in the RV, you’d used a quickly dug hole by the treeline behind some brush and trees. Blame the magnesium and charcoal).

Anyhoo, you made the coffee today while still half-asleep, and dude, one cup of coffee usually doesn’t perk you up so much!

You’d set up a jar of sun tea for Carol, did laundry, spent some time with Carl, chatted with Maggie and Patricia, survived the lengthy discussion between Rick and Hershel about Carl’s transfusion this afternoon during which Rick still didn’t confront you about how Carl getting shot was your fault and you really wish someone would just out and say it and get it over with, then you opened up + fed + watered the chickens before collecting the eggs for the Greenes, sacrificed a t-shirt to be made into fabric strips for the search party today, primped your eyebrows (finally), made your hair look passable, and wiped down with baby wipes in your tent by way of showering, AND learned some shoulder/neck PT exercises from Jimmy, it was great! You’ve barely even fallen into an inner spiral about the Shane/Lori/Rick/baby situation and about poor Sophia all morning!

Trotting over to Lori, you place your mug (it’s Jacqui’s old mug, actually) on the ground and start to help hang the damp, cleaned clothes. “How’d you sleep?”

Something about the way she says it seems hint that she feels guilty for not waking up early. “Slept like a log, if you can believe it. I didn’t even feel Rick get up.”

“Good.” You shake out and flatten Dale’s cargo pants to get some of the wrinkles out before hanging them.

“Was that your doing, then?”

“Might could’ve told him to sleep in with you last night.”

She takes a slow breath, then pastes on a smile and is most likely trying to sound normal when she asks, “Next time, wake me, especially on laundry day. How are you, is your dizziness gone, honey?”

“All gone.” But ouch, you lift your injured shoulder a little too high while hanging the pants.

She notices and lightly tuts. “Let me hang them, you can hand me the clothespins.” While fixing the line, she makes sure, “Last night, Patricia mentioned checking your stitches. Did you see her?”

“Saw her this morning when I was talking with Maggie. My stitches are doing great, gonna have ’em for another week or so. Why did you have on that frowny face as I walked over here, Lore?” You glance down at her belly then back to her eyes.

With a subtle shake of her head, she hangs up another shirt. “It’s nothing, it was…” she peeks over at you. “Carol just called me our ‘unofficial first lady.’ At first I thought it was funny, but...” That pasted-on cheerful expression falls away to reveal a sort of nervous look. “I-I don’t know why—was that just her saying that, you think?” Her tone of voice suggests that she hopes it’s only Carol who thought so.

However, you shrug very unhelpfully. “Rick is kinda the group’s head, I guess. How’d it come up?”

“She wants to cook dinner for the Greene’s.” She pauses, frowns, and becomes visibly uncomfortable. “But she thought the offer would sound better coming from me. I should’ve told her that was just Ed’s voice in her head, but I was too…I-I didn’t know what to respond so I just kept hanging laundry.”

At least her brows smooth out when she adds, “Dale’s boxers, of all things.”

That got you giggling. “On that topic, I don’t know how y’all got all the bloodstains out of all these. You’d never know.”

The clothes T-Dog had been wearing when his arm got sliced open + the clothing you, Rick, and Carl had been wearing when Carl was shot = clean as if nothing at all happened. Even the clothes the Greene’s lent you that you wore for two and a half days straight (and got egg and blood stains on) look fresh.

You crouch down to grab your coffee and cannot help but remember the phrase Daryl used last night regarding your ‘mother-henning’ as you check, “Did you eat enough breakfast, Lore? That way your vitamins will absor—shoot, we have to get vitamins.”

“I had some water when I woke up.”

“Oh, that’ll keep you going.”

She bumps you with her hips, entertained enough to smile a little.

“Wanna use Jacqui’s mug after I’m finished?” you offer, holding it up. The handle had broken during the rush to leave the CDC, but Lori glued it after. “Have a sip, it’s nice and strong. A little bit is okay, right?”

Nodding, she takes it and her eyes turned glassy. “I miss her.”

Which is why you aren’t expecting the sudden grin after she drinks some. “Honey, this is espresso.”

...........................

his morning

He’d woken up early and taken out the original map to bring to his tent so he could fix all the grids. When his stomach started yelling at him for breakfast, he brought the map back to the campsite and downed a can of beans while working. He even put timeframes down, it was a productive-ass early morning. And that’s with his slight headache after getting slightly drunk last night.

It was Y/N who actually, um…she noticed he wasn’t feeling too hot and went and brought him some painkillers. After poking fun about his breakfast choice, obviously.

Speak of, she’s on her way over with a mug of coffee.

“Good morning, troublemaker,” Dale calls to her. He’s holding this real teeny mug (teacup? fancy shot glass?). “It’s nice to be using Irma’s demitasse this morning.”

Not knowing what that means, Daryl watches as Y/N twists her mouth playfully while chirping back, “G’morning, Dale.”

“You’re definitely feelin’ better,” Daryl muses when she reaches him.

“Miles better from last night. Good stuff is gonna happen today.” She holds out her mug for some reas—oh, the coffee is for him?

Again, he has to quickly pause and digest what it feels like for somebody to give a damn, then has to shove back the assumption that there’s some hidden angle behind it.

Except, when he goes to grab it, it’s barely full (?).

Carol’s voice pops in from his right, and he hasn’t ever heard her sound so teasing before. Never heard her make much noise at all. “Was the espresso accidental, pookie?”

Ha, ‘pookie.’

“Might could’ve been?” Y/N admits with a groan. “Yo, feel my pulse, it’s goin’ haywire.”

That explained why there wasn’t much coffee in the cup, he guesses. Intending to check over the map again, he’s next aware of Y/N snickering to Carol, “Ohh-ho, can that be his nickname?” with her thumb pointed at him.

What does she mean about a nickname? Best ignore that.

...wait, did she mean ‘pookie?’

His ears perk up again upon hearing Y/N happily announcing, “Nah, I slept off the migraine like almost completely!”

That makes him stop nit-picking the grid boundaries and look up at her. “Last night?” Is she even okay to go out today?

Y/N gives a little bow and takes a sip from her water bottle. “Like two hours after falling asleep I woke up ’cause I was getting one, so I took one of the pills Glenn found at the drug store and,” she pauses and turns around. “Glenn, air high-five!” she calls over, and he and she do a little clapping motion from a few yards away. And yeah, she winces because she used her bad shoulder.

Turning back with a shrug, she finishes, “But yeah, I simply went back to sleep, woke up feelin’ pretty good. I th-think having all those other painkillers already in my system helped,” she adds as Carol walks back to, uh, he didn’t know, someplace, wherever she came from. “How’s your hangover, any better? Stomach ain’t queasy?”

“I didn’t drink enough to get hungover, m’fine,” he grumbles. “You, uh, doing okay with what you got goin’ on?”

“Same as yesterday.” She starts concentrating on the new grid lines and appears to be silently mouthing directions while pointing out the path they’d taken yesterday. It’s like she’s studying for a test.

Then a dumb thing happens: when he goes to wipe his nose on his shirt, he smells tuna fish.

Cigarettes he knows he smells like, and BO, obviously, everyone’s sweaty as hell these days, but tuna? He’s gotta draw a damn line somewhere.

When he asks Y/N about it, she’s too absorbed in the grid to give a helpful answer. “I never really mind how you smell, to be honest. Ain’t there a thing to do with gene compatibility and that or some such?”

She doesn’t really mind how I…and what was that about jeans?

Lifting up his shirt again to sniff it then fast as he can, yanking it down where it rode up in the back so his scars won’t be on display, he asks more plainly, “I don’t smell like fish?”

“Oh, that, yeah.” She nods, taking another sip of water. “You had tuna with your breakfast again, right?”

He shakes his head and stands there dumbfounded, trying to figure out how it was possible that he smells like fish (and why he cares).

Rick comes over to study the grid, positioning himself next to Y/N with a “Good morning, weirdo. Daryl, how’s things?”

Then, Daryl remembers how he’d tossed that can of tuna he’d had for breakfast yesterday into his tent. When he took off his overshirt last night, he must’ve flung it right onto the can.

Maybe he should clean up in there…

…Either way, he’s jogging over to change.

.................................

You

“Colored strips to mark the boundaries and searched areas, that’s clever,” Rick mumbles. “Hey Dar—wait, where’d he g—” He looks up and all around. “Y/N, where’s Daryl? I was about to ask him a question.”

“Grabbin’ a fresh shirt.”

He nods and points to a spot on the map. “Do you know what this here is?”

“A high ridge. He wants to get to the top ’cause it’ll show a lot of the search area.”

“Then it looks like you and he are set to head this way after searching this stretch right here?”

“Mr. Greene said most of the houses there were cleared of any sick ones—um, walkers,” you share, massaging the side of your neck the migraine hit last night. “Our hope is Sophia found a safe place to hole up there, it’s right off the trail.”

On her way back to finish helping T-Dog cut the fabric strips for the search grids, Andrea briefly comes over and stands beside you to get a look at the new plans.

Rick’s doing The Squint at you. “Are you okay to join us today? How’s your head? I know Shane doesn’t…” he gestures at you leaves it at that.

Yeah, you know what Shane doesn’t want and what he thinks about the whole thing.

You assure Rick, “My head’s pretty good, all told,” and leave it at that.

“And the rest of you?” he presses, maintaining the squint.

Andrea raises her brows and has your back when she says, “She's able to decide for herself,” as she turns back to rejoin T-Dog, who, as you now see, is inclining his ear to listen in.

“Are your energy levels even any good after givin’ almost three pints two days ago?” you more remind Rick than ask.

He glances behind at the T-Dog and Andrea. Why’s he about to smile? “Well, after about a coffee mug’s worth of espresso,” he chuckles, “I’d say so.”

Ah, another accidental victim. You’re grateful no one in the group has heart issues (and that some of them recognized the mistake by the taste. You and Rick did not have that skill).

“Sorry, Ricky,” you say through an awkward smile.

But it’s cool, he’s still grinning about something. He looks at Andrea and T-Dog again. “When I mentioned how Shane doesn’t feel comfortable with her searching today, she licked the ridge of her teeth just like he does when he’s mad.”

“You’d think they was raised in the same house,” T-Dog dryly comments.

A dumb thing happens: the comment doesn’t hit you like you expect it to. You should have giggled and forgotten about it.

And you like being compared to your siblings, you love them. You loved it when your foster siblings started adopting mannerisms like you guys.

But hearing that silly, little, meaningless observation comparing you and Shane, it hit different…

Stop being an idiot about it. Stupid girl. Shane is a good man, you know that. Give him a damn break.

Rick looks more serious when he murmurs, “Speak of, let me go get him. Just need to go over a few things. Be ready in a few.”

.................................

Him

He had to take a dump first, so he’s only just now grabbing a different shirt. He figured he’d just yank his clean one from the clothesline.

“I can give you one of Shane’s ribbed tanks if you want,” he then hears Y/N offer.

He looks over to where she’s walking with two bundles of strips, one white, one yellow.

Then he looks down at his tank top. Is it that bad?

Whatever, he’s gonna put something on over it, anyway. “It’ll get just as mucked up as this one.” Speaking of, he grabs his shirt off the clothesline and starts to unbutton it.

This look passes over her face as she peeks at his tank top for a stretch longer than he would think was normal. “That was Merle’s,” she figures out.

How, he has no idea.

“You’ve always worn the ones with the thick straps that go up higher, your brother tended to wear the more wife-beater type—sorry! The kind with thinner straps. Ma hated the nickname for those types of tanks.” She follows this up with an apologetic mention of, “They called them ‘wife-beaters’ in The OC, so it’s on my mind,” as if whatever that was made sense to him.

“...That a movie?”

“A TV show. Oh, Glenn!” she suddenly calls over to him.

One of their little exchanges starts. Daryl forgets to put on his shirt because truth be told, it’s kinda easy to get kinda sucked in when those two start, even though those two can jabber on about literally damn nothing.

She stretches her arm carefully. “Your middle sister made you watch The OC with her, right?” she asks Glenn.

“She and I did, yeah. Appa, too, but it was more of a hate-watch thing. Kinda weird they only ever had one Asian on the show, dude, like, Orange County’s got a huge Asian population. We’re like 1 in 6.”

Y/N looks at Daryl in expectation of him being surprised, too, then back at Glenn. “For real?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s crazy.” She flops the bundle of fabric strips from one hand to another. Glenn starts to sword fight it or whatever with the other bundle of strips.

“Oh right, sorry—anyways,” Y/N starts up again, “Maggie and I got to talkin’ about the show over breakfast. We both decided it stopped existing five minutes before the third season ended but we both love that Kirsten and Sandy had another baby in the season four.”

“Oh, and the thing with Kirsten’s alcoholism? And the way Ryan—”

However Glenn was gonna end that sentence gets cut off by Rick as he and Shane stride over to the map laid out on the hood of Carol’s old Jeep station wagon.

“Good mornin’, guys. Let get going. We got a lot of ground to cover.”

Daryl jogs over with his shirt. It’s hot as hell outside, he’s already sweating like a pig in a bacon factory.

He ends up next to T-Dog, Rick in the middle, Andrea beside him, Y/N, then Shane.

“All right, everyone’s getting new search grids today,” Rick starts. “If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might’ve gone further East than we’ve been so far.”

As Daryl finally puts on his shirt, the teenage boy appears from out of nowhere. “I’d like to help,” he pipes in. “I know the area pretty well and stuff…”

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Rick asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, um—he said I should ask you.”

Unless he was just nervous, what that Jimmy kid just said was either a lie or a white lie. But, Rick doesn’t argue.

For a cop, that guy’s a little too trusting. “All right, then. Thanks.”

Daryl catches Y/N’s frown as she looks at him, then at Jimmy, then at Rick with her brows all low, unconvinced. It looks like she’s about to wave Jimmy closer when her brother interrupts.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me.”

Not even looking at her directly, Daryl sees his friend’s muscles tense up, he can tell even from his spot across from her.

“Give this a measure of reverence, Shane,” she hushes. She’s trying not to react too strong.

“I’m bein’ upfront about the situation, Y/N,” Shane insists. Then to everyone there, he goes on to declare, “Daryl brought her back there just yesterday, she wasn’t convinced. Anybody could’ve been holed up in that farmhouse.”

The way his friend hunched when her brother mouthed off made a big part of him want to mouth off right back. But Andrea, classy as hell, steps in without missing a damn beat. “Anybody includes Sophia, right?”

She was so casual about it that it pretty much made it seem like she was brushing off a bug from her shirt. That chick is good, shit.

..................................

You

Andrea must’ve been such a good attorney, good Moses. You’ve never seen her feathers ruffled, like, ever, she lets it all just roll off. How is she so calm? Because while you were fixing to pounce, probably very obviously, she slid a hand around your waist and smoothly (so smoothly!) pointed out to Shane, “Anybody includes Sophia, right?”

It’s either the jitters from the caffeine or your damned hot head, because you’re just—you’re ready to start clawing at the man who’s overtaking your brother, because why would he have said that out loud? To all them? You’re fucking mortified.

That wasn’t Shane, it wasn’t Shane! Why is he being like this? And why can’t he button his stupid shirt all the way, huh?

Dale is coming out of the RV and gives you a look as if asking ‘what happened?’ so, you imagine taking the stupid tea kettle off the stupid burner to calm down.

No one else seems to be as agitated as you, not even Daryl, which is a huge relief.

Echoing Andrea, he’s as nonchalant as they come when he scratches his nose and reminds everyone, “Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yea-high.”

To which Andrea is quick to reinforce, “Good lead,” along with Rick when he agrees, “Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again.”

“No ‘maybe’ about it,” he grunts. “We’re gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird’s eye view of the whole grid.” Except, Daryl hadn’t mentioned anything about a horse before, neither yesterday nor today.

First of all, he can ride a horse? Hot. Second…who did he ask for permission about borrowing one? He briefly catches your confused stare as he points to the spot on the map. “If she’s up there, we’ll spot her.”

T-Dog’s been nodding away at all of this, impressed. “Good idea,” he tells Daryl. But then his brows lift and his lips pout a little in the way that happens before he cracks a joke. Lo and behold: “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there, too.”

The tension in your body from a few moments ago goes *poof* as you grin.

“Chupacabra?” Rick repeats, again sporting The Squint.

“You never heard this?” Dale, now next to Daryl and across from you, hoists the gun bag on the hood and begins handing them out while staring into space and narrating. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole things reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra.”

Sweet little Jimmy finally relaxes and lets out a quiet giggle while Rick’s squint turns into a mild smirk.

Unfortunately for sweet little Jimmy, Daryl grates at him, “What are you brayin’ at, jackass?”

Okay, you’re sorry, but even though it wasn’t appropriate of him to react that way to an innocent giggle, that comeback was really quick and you’re snorting. Still, poor kid. You switch places with Andrea to be next to Jimmy and make a point to openly laugh at the conversation.

Rick is stuck in squint-mode, isn’t he? “You believe in a blood-sucking dog?”

And Daryl is quick on the draw. “You believe in dead people walkin’ around?”

Yet again, you’re somehow the only one who finds this funny (Glenn, dude. Where are you?).

Next thing you see is Jimmy casually reaching for a long gun.

Rick and you both stop his arm, and T-Dog cautions, “Hold on there, kid.”

“Hey, hey. You ever fire one before?” Rick challenges.

“If I’m going out, I want one.”

Daryl shoulders his crossbow and tosses out, “Yeah, and people in hell want slurpees.”

You’re the only one laughing, again. Rough crowd today.

“Jimmy, yesterday I got ‘quit cluckin’ like a mother hen’ from him, don’t even worry about it,” you share. “You mentioned you did skeet shooting with your dad before, right? So you’ve fired a shotgun, then?”

“Once or—I mean, yeah.”

That means he has no idea, never mind.

Shane speaks up and sounds much more like himself when he does. “Why don’t you come train tomorrow? If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

“Not to brag, but he’s a really good one, too,” you definitely brag.

Jimmy, overwhelmed at all the attention from grown-up strangers, nods slightly.

Andrea (so smoothyl!) tactfully and kindly solves the problem. “For now, he can come with us.”

“He’s yours to babysit then,” is Shane’s brusque surrender, and he waves Jimmy over with his hunting tomahawk.

Andrea, of course, doesn’t pay this any mind and goes to arm herself with her pistol. You try to follow suit by not staring daggers at your brother.

Instead, you finally let everyone know, “Glenn is going with him, y’all. I don’t know where he ran off to, but these are theirs.” You hold up the yellow fabric strips, then look at Jimmy. “Glenn’s smart and fast, you’ll be in great hands with him,” you say out loud, then whisper in his ear, “I know you asked your mama, but you gotta ask Mr. Greene, too, okay?” Back to a normal volume, you wish him and those around the station wagon, "Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

You’ve just started to jog off to join Daryl and start today’s search when Shane stops you and pulls you in for a hug. He kisses your head. “Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

.................................

the official teeny tiny taglist

@its-freaking-bats @spenciepoo338 @whistlesalot

109 notes · View notes

prettytoxix · 2 years

Text

A Sick Day ☕️

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: y/n has a fever before school and Steve forced her to stay home and takes care of her all day.

Content: fluff, just fluff, being take care of while sick

A/n: I thought this was kind of a cute idea, I just love the idea of someone taking care of you while you’re sick, ya know?. It’s always so comforting so I figured why not Steve?

Word count: 955

I get into Steve’s car like I do every morning. He picks me up everyday on the way to school. I actually find it kind of adorable. I jump inside and give him a quick kiss before buckling up. Steve looks at me with anxious eyes. Something seems wrong.

“Whoa, y/n, you’re not looking too hot this morning.” He observes.

“What? What do you mean?”

Steve takes the back of his hand and places it gently onto my forehead. He holds it there for a moment and then moves his hand to my cheeks then doing the same on my neck. His hands are soft but feel slightly calloused in some areas.

“You’re burning up. You’re definitely not going to school today.” He turns the engine off and leans back in his chair thinking. Moving his hands through his hair while the gears in his head spin. Steve unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting you back inside. You have a fever and your skin is a freaky pale color.” He insists.

“Steve, I’m fine. I mean a feel a little sick but nothing I can’t handle.” I inform him.

“Y/n, you need to rest. You’re sick.”

“Fine.” I say stubbornly because I know he won’t give it up. I unbuckle and grab my stuff from the back as I head back inside my house. My parents already left for work so I’ll have the house to myself. Steve follows me inside and closes the door behind him. “Are you staying?” I ask, hoping his answer is yes.

“Of course I’m staying. Somebody has to make sure you’re taking it easy today.” He flashes me a big smile and walks into the kitchen. He finds a suitable mug only after inspecting each one. The mug gets filled with water and gets placed into the microwave to heat up. Steve goes to the cupboard that holds all of my different types of teas and grabs chamomile tea bag with some honey.

While Steve is doing that I figured I might as well get comfortable so I go upstairs to my bedroom and change back into pajamas. I put my backpack away because out of sight out of mind. I get my favorite blanket, a blanket that Steve actually bought me for my birthday several months ago. It’s soft and warm, which is perfect for a sick day. I make my way back downstairs and see that the cup of tea is placed on the coffee table. Steve is stuffing a VHS tape into my VCR. He notices me walk down the stairs and he moves back onto the couch with the remote in hand.

“I made you some tea.” He said, motioning towards the cup in front of him.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I tell him kindly.

“Y/n, stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.” He opens his arms and gives me a big grin welcoming me to come sit close to him. I grab a pillow setting it on his lap so I can rest my head against it and get comfortable.

“Before you get too comfy,” he remembers, “let me grab you a cold wash cloth.”

He comes back quickly with the cold wash cloth in hand. He sits down and allows me to rest my head back into his lap. He places the wash cloth against my forehead delicately and specifically. He rests his hand on my back and rubs circles as I become entranced into the TV. The movie he decided to put on was The Empire Strikes Back.

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled outwardly.

“Yes.” I tell him sarcastically. I move closer to him and he fills my hand with his own.

We sit for the rest of the day on the couch. Steve doesn’t let me move an inch once I’ve laid down. The wash cloth get changed every 30 minutes or so and every time the movie ends Steve gets up immediately to change it.

Later in the day he insists that I need to eat something so he makes me some soup and brings it out to me.

“Aren’t you going to eat some?” I ask when I notice he only brings one bowl out.

“No, it’s all for you. I suspect you’ll want some more and I didn’t want to deprive you of your soup needs.” He jokes.

“So chivalrous of you!”

I finish my soup in minutes and Steve takes the bowl from my hands. I can hear him washing it before placing it in the sink.

“Y/n, it’s already 8 o clock!” He calls out from the kitchen.

“Really?” Thats unbelievable for some reason. It feels like the day just started. “Do you think you could stay over tonight?”

He comes around the corner and back into the living room. “Of course I can, let’s go on up to your bedroom alright?”

I stand up, wrapping myself in my blanket and heading upstairs. Steve and I lay down In my bed. He grabs the book on my nightstand and starts to read it out loud to me.

“Franny. Though brilliantly sunny, Saturday morning was overcoat weather again, not just topcoat weather, as it had been all week and as everyone had hoped it would stay for the big weekend- the weekend of the Yale game…” Steve reads.

I’m asleep by the first chapter. Steve puts the book down once I’m asleep and falls asleep himself. Our bodies gently entangled between each other.

#stranger things steve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #steve Harrington blurb #stranger things imagines #stranger things one shot #steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington x y/n #joe keery #steve Harrington fanfiction #st imagine #stranger things fanfiction

266 notes · View notes

cyb3rscoups · 1 year

Text

Pretty Woman AU (Part 6)

Long time no see 🫡

Full Collection also if you haven’t check out my ‘The Glory AU’ featuring our favorite couple

“I’m Shuri.” The girl stuck her hand out for Okoye to take. She glanced back at Attuma, too nose deep in files and a cup of coffee to notice the interaction.

“Okoye.” She chuckled, taking her hand hesitantly and flinching as Shuri shook it wildly.

“You must be quite the woman to thaw that asshole’s heart.” Shuri muttered, gesturing to the boss behind them as he worked.

Attuma tsked from his desk but said nothing as he let them talk.

“I don’t know about that.” Okoye’s cheeks flushed at the compliment as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

“Come on, girl. Don't be coy. How’d you do it?” Shuri pulled her in a bit too close with a mischievous smirk accessory to her glimmering eyes.

The question made Okoye tense. They still hadn’t talked about what to say when some one inquired about their relationship. Words ran like chickens with their heads cut off as she tried to settle on something between, "I make him cum like three times a night," and "I'm not quite sure honestly."

Attuma glanced up, noting the uneasiness in Okoye’s form and cleared his throat harshly. “Thank you Shuri. I don’t pay you to mingle with my girlfriend.”

“Right. Well, nice to meet you anyways, Okoye. Should I order lunch for you two?” Shuri rolled her eyes, releasing Okoye’s hand.

“No. We'll be off soon.” He glared at the girl and scoffed her vivacious personality as she left, making sure to turn the lock on her way out.

Okoye let out a breath of relief and stumbled into the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. “She is overwhelming isn’t she?”

“She does good work.” He shrugged as he watched her catch her breath from the overstimulating interaction.

A comfortable silence settled into the room as Attuma scribbled across some papers, marking notes and suggestions in some spaces.

His jaw clenched in focus as his body stayed tensed forward in the chair. A big contradiction to Okoye’s slouching form in the chair.

“So..girlfriend?” Her lips tugged to a smirk as she toyed with the name plate on his desk.

“Yes. Girlfriend.”

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet.”

She could see the gears turn and creak in his brain as the furrow in his brows deepened. “I have to ask you? At this point in our relationship? Seriously?”

Okoye rolled her eyes at his confusion. After all, he did promise her the fairytale life. She believed this came with it. She wanted it more than ever.

“You don’t want me as your girlfriend?” She pouted.

“Do I want you as my girlfriend? Okoye, I want to you to marry me.” He scoffed, finally lifting his head to look at her face. That beautiful face, one that held a new level of astonishment he hadn't seen before.

“S-seriously?”

“One day, yes.” He suddenly felt shy under her as she went through her array of thoughts and emotions. Had he said too much?

“Ask me.” Okay, maybe not.

“Excuse you?”

“You dumbass! Ask me to marry you!” Okoye hopped up from her seat and scurried around his desk, setting his papers to the side so she could sit on the glossy wood.

“Baby. Think rationally right now.” Attuma leaned back in his chair with a blush across his tanned cheeks.

“I am. I love you. You love me..right?” Okoye swung her feet and her heels flew off with a clatter to the floor.

“Yes. More than anything.”

“Then ask me to marry you.” She said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. Maybe in her head it was.

“Okoye-“ The woman in question leaned forward, dragging his chair til he sat flush between her thighs. She rested the appendages on his shoulders.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

Attuma could feel the cloud of uncertainty hover over him as she looked at him as if he was all she wanted. And if she kept it up, he might just marry her tomorrow. “Come on! Let’s put some time between us before we jump like that. We’ve only known each other 3 weeks.”

“Pussy. My parents got married after 3 days.” She giggled at the story and Attuma rolled his eyes.

“They were wasted and fucked over the head in Vegas.”

That didn’t snub her desire at all. “Attuma. Ask me to marry you.”

He braced his hands to her thighs, bringing them up and trailing them with soft kisses. “I love you. You know this. But we need time. So, for now, will you be my girlfriend?”

“I want to be your wife.”

“And we will get there, Okoye. Right now is not the time and you know it.”

Okoye crossed her arms as she looked down at the pleading man. One day, she thought. But for now, “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Wonderful. Should we seal it with a date tonight?”

“Where to?” She perked in curiosity.

“Ever been to the opera?”

———

“You look beautiful.”

“Easy for you to say..You won’t be bald.” Okoye went for her wig as it laid idle on the sink.

Attuma caught her wandering hand, bringing it to his lips with a smile. “You look beautiful. And anybody that says otherwise can answer to me.”

“Thank you.” She blushed as he kissed down her wrists to her fingertips. “You know this’ll be my first time not covering it up in public.”

“And for that, I have a gift.”

“Attuma, you’ve given me enough.”

“Hardly.”

He broke away from her and went into the closet. He dug around before pulling out a slender velvet box and bringing it back to her. “It was delivered today. Had to get you out the house so you wouldn’t open it.”

Okoye gasped. No wonder he was so insistent on her accompanying him to work. All that ramble about not wanting to be apart made sense now.

“Can I open it now?”

“It is yours isn’t it.”

“Yeah…guess it is.” She smiled as she carefully took the box and opened it. Inside was a necklace more glamorous than anything she’d ever seen. Diamonds encrusted and covered the chain, making it glimmer in the simple bathroom light. “Oh my…”

“Don’t ask how much it cost. Just know it was enough to see that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one where you think you’re gonna cry from being so fucking happy.”

Okoye nodded, tears brimming her lash line as he took the necklace from the box and began to fix it around her neck. "I am crying." She tilted her head up and dropped the box to fan her eyes as the water threatened to fall tremendously.

"Oh Okoye. Maybe we should stay in tonight." His eyes glossed over with a look she knew too well.

"No! We can sex it up later but I am too dressed up for it to go to waste like this." She pried his hands from her body and grabbed her clutch, promptly exiting the bathroom before he had a chance to seduce her further.

The car ride was long. Okoye even had time for a quick nap on Attuma's shoulder before they arrived. She was woken up when he nudged her forward until her body jerked up suddenly.

She smacked his arm as he chuckled at her before stepping out of the car and holding his hand out for her to take.

"Wait...I'm not ready."

"Okoye. I will not let anyone say or do anything to you that you don't feel comfortable with. Do you understand me?"

Okoye shook her head as her leg began to shake and her hands were not able to relax. Attuma slid back into the car, cradling her cheeks and planting a kiss to her lips. Her body went lax as she allowed herself to feel nothing but him and his lips against hers.

Slowly, he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers in replacement.

"It's gonna be okay. I won't leave your side and when you're ready to go home, I want you to squeeze my hand as hard as you can. Okay?"

"Okay." Her voice came out shaky and kind of weak as she tried to reassure herself in her head as much as he had out loud.

Attuma stepped out the car again, stretching his hand out for her to hold. Okoye took a deep breath as she met him and stepped out of the vehicle herself. "Good." He praised her as she adjusted her dress. "You look amazing. The show is going to be amazing, we are going to have a nice time, we will mingle and we will get the fuck out of here so fast-"

Okoye laughed at his rant, squeezing his hand lightly. "Nervous?" She teased.

"Me? No. You know who should be nervous? Everybody in that goddamn theater. They'll have the limited opportunity to breathe the same air as the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth. They should be bowing at your feet at this moment, incompetent assholes they are." He smirked as she continued to laugh at his nonsense.

"Shut up! Oh my god!"

"No. I will never shut up about you. You'd have to kill me before I ever shut up about you."

Okoye's laughter left a smile on her face as Attuma looked down at her in nothing short of pure admiration and love. He was in love and he wouldn't deny it or deprive the fact from anyone who wanted to know.

"Okoye..will you marry me?"

@theeblackmedusa @tvreadsandsleep @pilesofpillows @xblackreader @mamajankyy @dontruinmymorning @attoye

#alex livinalli #attuma #attoye #attuma x okoye #attoye fanfic #black panther #wakanda forever #danai gurira #mcu okoye #okoye x attuma #attoye fluff #pretty woman #alternate universe

41 notes · View notes

novankenn · 5 months

Text

Chp 5 - King of Kings

Jaune and his sisters talked late into the night, so late in fact that Jaune missed his whole morning of scheduled classes. His body felt lethagic as he stepped on the bullhead, a cup of coffee in his hand.

But the venting talk had been worth it. Jaune even as tired as he was, felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Still in his street clothes, and sipping his coffee he wandered late into Combat Class.

Goodwitch: Mr Arc... you're late, and I understand from your other professors that you have missed... skipped all your morning classes. I would love to hear your explanation.

Jaune: I had a personal issue to resolve. I'm sorry for not making arrangements... I'll make up the missed courses.

Goodwitch: I see. Yes you will be making up the courses, and you can do so while you serve a detention.

Jaune: Yes, Professor Goodwitch.

Goodwitch: And seeing as you are late... I have no doubt you'd be willing to participate in the opening spar?

Jaune: yes, professor.

Goodwitch: Get ready. Mr Winchester... front and center. (Noticed that Jaune just goes to set his coffee down before stepping into the sparing ring.) Mr Arc... are you not...

Jaune: Might as well get it over with, no sense wasting time getting geared up.

Goodwitch: This is highly unusual Mr Arc.

Jaune: It's fine. I'm ready.

Cardin: Giving up already? I hope you're not just going to step out of bounds... that would be a waste of my and everyone else's time.

Goodwitch: Mr Winchester please keep your comments to yourself. Mr Arc if you do throw this spar you will receive a reprimand in addition to additional detention time.

Jaune: I'm not going to throw the match. Arc's word.

Goodwitch: I see, but I must ask again. Will you not be getting changed? I do advise that you do.

Jaune: Nah, I'm good.

Goodwitch: Very well... combatants ready?

Jaune and Cardin just nod as Professor Goodwitch looks at each of them. The class grew silent, after having been filled with a tidal wave of hushed whispers.

Goodwitch: begin! (Buzzer sounds)

Cardin and Jaune circle, both keeping their distance from the other. Cardin lazily bouncing Executioner against his palm as Jaune just kept shifting his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, and back again.

Having enough of this stalemate Cardin charged with his weapon chamber for a chest high side arm strike. Much to everyone's surprise, especially Pyrrha's Jaune waited until almost the last second to dive roll under the strike. he regained his feet just as Cardin was twisting about, his mace again chambered for a side arm swing.

Goodwitch: The winner... by... by Ring Out... Jaune Arc.

The class was on their feet in surprise. Everyone KNEW that aura could help prevent damage, but it was often overlooked that impacts to the body still did things... like a very stiff and hard blow to the head even through aura could disorientate you. Jaune had just given a perfect demonstration of that fact.

Jaune: May I be excused?

Goodwitch: Why?

Jaune: My personal issue took a long time to resolve, and I would rather not get more detetion time due to falling asleep in your class.

Goodwitch: Very well. You are excused... don't make a habit of this.

Jaune: Yes professor.

Goodwitch, And Mr Arc...

Jaune: Yes.

Goodwitch: That was a rather unorthodox way to win, and would not serve you well in when facing grimm or another combatant in a none tournament setting... the showboating was also unnessecary...but none the less. Congratulations.

Jaune: Thank you professor.g

As Jaune left Cardin was sitting up and shaking the cobwebs out of his head. Yang had a massive grin on her face, she totally knew the move Jaune had used, and her grin grew even larger when she heard Nora chuckling.

A few seats down Pyrrha was troubled, and upset. She had been ready to speak with Jaune calmly about what she had said, and to explain her position as his training partner more eloquently... but seeing him just toss aside weeks of work... made her a little irritated.

--== Table of Contents ==--

#jaune arc #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #professional wrestling #Jaune is part of a wrestling dynasty #been wanting to write/share this forever #the Arc family is THE Valean pro-wrestling family #Youtube

15 notes · View notes

edupunkn00b · 9 months

Text

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 21: I'm Coming Clean

Prev - I'm Coming Clean - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

I can't stay this way, but I pray that nothing changes Like I'm stuck between the gears of a broken machine I'm on fire and I'm frozen stiff Down to the wire, wondering if Today's the day I'm coming clean

'Cause I've got dreams that might not come to any kind of fruition I've got cracks in my façade I might fall between I've got pictures in the dresser drawer I whisper through the bedroom door Today's the day I'm coming clean -I'm Coming Clean by Ezra Furman

WC: 4013 - Rated: T - CW: none -

The next morning, Roman woke to bird song, a muted chorus of robins and starlings and chickadees all greeting the sun. Soft, golden light spilled through the gaps along the curtain’s edge. Sprawled on Logan's bed, Roman was warm and comfortable. Well, mostly comfortable. His stomach growled, a not-so-quiet nudge that perhaps it was actually hunger that woke him and not the birds outside.

He’d burrowed under the covers in his sleep and when he pushed them back and peered over the fluffy comforter, he saw Logan, sleeping curled around a pillow in the chair he’d set up by his bedside. A sunbeam landed just behind the chair, lighting him in an ethereal glow his technical director would be jealous of.

Logan's face was soft in sleep, the near-everpresent tension gone from between his eyebrows, his jaw. He’d removed his glasses and his lids were smooth, eyes darting back and forth in a dream. Mouth relaxed, his lips looked even fuller, an almost smile curving up one side.

He was gorgeous.

Moving carefully, Roman wiggled his way out from under the covers and confirmed that, yes, he was, in fact, proudly wearing bright white boxers festooned in multicolored hearts. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched Logan sleep for just long enough to start to feel creepy. Finally, he stood and tried to remember where he’d noticed his jeans last night. It was cool in the room and Logan only had a small throw blanket stretched over him, so Roman tucked the comforter around him before he went to dress and wash his face.

He’d seen Logan make coffee often enough to know how he liked it. After the way he’d cared for him—clearly all night judging by the shadows under his eyes, the very least Roman could was make sure that when he did wake up, there was a fresh cup waiting for him.

Roman gathered the dishes and an empty Gatorade bottle from the nightstand and pocketed his—charged—phone. Logan sighed in his sleep, soft and contented. He was sorely tempted to press just one tiny kiss into his hair but he satisfied himself with a quiet whisper. “See you when you wake, Lo.”

He crept downstairs and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, then pulled out his phone to check in with his brother.

Good morning!

Re replied almost immediately.

heeey! back from the dead! how you feeling? did he take good care of you in your time of need? 😈

It wasn’t like that

like what? *blink blink blink*

Re…

aw, i’m fucking with you. i’m sure he was a perfect little repressed gentleman.

Mr. Sweet n Sour Sauce, everyone. He’s here all night.

just sayin’… da nile’s not just a river in egypt

Turning off my phone now…

nah, don’t be like that. seriously, he called three times, worried as fuck. then it was like it was christmas day when your fever broke.

He’s sweet.

i can see that. don’t fuck it up

Roman rolled his eyes and tapped at the screen but Re continued before he could finish his retort.

oh, and jannie says to tell him, ‘that’s not what he meant by celebrating but at least he got part of it right’

Smiling despite himself, Roman shook his head, unsure which of the dynamic duo was more cryptic. Those two were made for each other.

I’ll be home tonight, maybe even this afternoon. I don’t know what plans I’ve already disrupted for him.

you really so blind? his only plans are YOU, ro bro

When he didn’t respond, bubbles popped and stopped repeatedly, Re writing and re-writing some message. Finally, he asked,

what’s stopping you from making your move? he’s obvs crazy about you

It was difficult to tell just how seriously he should take his brother’s assertions. It didn’t feel like teasing and Re knew, really knew how much Logan meant to him. His brother was an ass, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t lie to him about something so important.

It was even more difficult to convince his heart that Logan’s actions over the last day and a half weren’t more than the care of a truly altruistic person. Logan was a good man. He would do what he’d done for anyone… Wouldn’t he?

He wanted to ask how his brother could be so sure. Roman had been wrong so many times before. He’d fallen hard, taken in by charm or misattributing basic lust and desire for something… deeper. Logan wasn’t the type to take advantage of someone, let alone go through some sort of farce of denial of his sexuality. But…

But what if… what if the problem wasn’t with the men Roman was falling for, but with him?

Re sent a single question mark and Roman finished his message, dodging the real question sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

He’s asleep right now. I’ll text you if anything changes, okay?

okay thanks ro. kiss the nerd for me

Roman pocketed his phone, the dream-memory of Logan’s soft skin against his lips fresh and strong. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel it, the warmth, the way his muscles flexed just under his skin. Shaking away the ghostly sensation and the longing that came with it, he picked up the coffee pot and filled it with water.

“Ro!” Patton’s surprised voice bubbled from the hall. “You’re up!” he cheered and threw his arms around him in a hug.

“Thirty-six hours is probably long enough to sleep,” he laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hey, I wanted to make your dad some coffee and breakfast. Would you like to help?”

“Yeah!” Patton grinned and pointed up at the top shelf of the cabinet above the coffee maker. “Use the brown bag. It’s stronger, but it’s his favorite.”

Face buried in his pillow, Logan groaned and stretched as he woke, eyes snapping open when his book thudded to the floor. The sound was muffled by the comforter gathered around him. The comforter that had been tucked around Roman. He sat up. “Ro?”

His bed was empty, the blanket completely wrapped him instead. Craning his neck, he checked the ensuite, but the door was open, the light off. Roman’s jeans were gone from where he’d hung them on the back of the door and the nightstand had been cleared. Yawning, he stood, only slightly stiff from spending the night mostly upright. Watching Roman sleep so peacefully, seeing with his own eyes that he was well, or at least on the mend, had made it easier to set aside his worry and finally drift off for a bit of rest for himself.

After checking his phone—no messages from either Remus or Roman—he made the bed, then hurried to change and brush his teeth. He hoped Roman hadn’t already left. It had been easy to behave as though, here, in his room, Roman was already home. Home with him. He knew he’d need to return to reality eventually. Logan just hoped he hadn’t already missed him, that Roman would’ve said goodbye before leaving.

As soon as he opened his bedroom door, Roman’s booming laughter danced up the stairs and his cold, quiet fear dissolved. A chuckle spilled from his own lips, the mere sound of Roman’s jovial voice enough to make him want to join in. He skipped down the stairs, real laughter bursting out when he entered the kitchen to the sight of all four boys huddled around the table and engaged in a friendly—if loud—debate over the best flavors of jelly.

“Apple jelly?” Virgil’s nose scrunched even as he laughed.

“Hey,” Emile shook his head. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted apple Hamentashen.”

“Oh, are those the ones your dad made last year?” Remy grinned. “Mmm, Em’s right. I thought I didn’t like apples until I had those. You gotta try it, Virge.”

The homey scents of fresh coffee and toast and, of course, jam filled the air and Logan stood to the side, watching the conversation. He was caught, though, when Roman turned and asked Patton how he liked his eggs.

“Good morning, everyone!” Waving at his sons and his future son-in-law, he entered the kitchen to a small chorus of greetings. Roman stood in the middle of the kitchen, sleeves pushed up and once again wearing Logan’s apron. “Good morning, Lo. There’s coffee on,” he smiled. “Can I pour you a cup?”

Logan stepped closer. Bright sunlight streaming in from the kitchen window gleamed against the shiny stovetop and the coffee maker, bouncing up and turning Roman’s hair into a halo of almost red curls. The boys chattered, now debating whether Hamentashen were cookies or tartlets, and he kissed the top of Patton’s head when he gave him a quick hug on his way to the fridge.

Their happy voices faded into the background as he met Roman’s eyes. “How—how are you feeling? Shouldn’t I be getting you coffee? Or at least some juice? You must be starving.”

“Patton made sure I ate something before we started all this. I’m really feeling much better, thanks to you. See?” Roman reached for his hand and pressed it to his forehead. His skin was warm, but no longer hot, no longer that frightening feverish heat. Just… wonderfully warm.

He smiled when Roman blushed—actually blushed. He was beautiful when he blushed, soft pink painted over the apples of his cheeks, darkening his lips and spreading down his neck. “You took excellent care of me. I’m certain you lost more than a little sleep, though.” Roman bit his lower lip, holding up a cup. His favorite cup. Logan drew close and inhaled deeply. His favorite brew. “Though, it makes a nice excuse to wake you with a cup of coffee,” he grinned.

Logan had had this dream before. While tonight there was no glint of gold on either of their hands, with the perfect sunlight, the perfectly chaotic and peaceful morning with the boys, and the literal man of his dreams offering him his favorite coffee, this could be nothing but a dream.

He nodded and stepped closer. “You’re always a wonderful way to wake up, Old Heart,” he murmured and closed the distance between them. Both arms draped over Roman's shoulders, Logan smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. Roman’s surprised little noise turned into a happy hum and, laughing, Patton took the cup still in his hand and set it on the table.

Hands now free, Roman wrapped one arm around his back and the other cradled the back of his head. He drew him even closer, gently deepening their kiss.

It was like nothing in any other dream before. A soft need that matched his own drove Roman’s kiss, heat and warmth and softness pouring from him, even as he pulled him close, fingers curled through his hair. Logan melted against him, captivated in a way he’d never felt before, not in his dreams and not in his waking life.

“Alright, alright,” Virgil laughed. “Get a room already.”

Patton giggled. “Oh, leave them alone and eat your toast. Look how happy they are.”

“Jacinta’s so gonna say ‘I told you so,” Emile murmured.

Logan broke away, eyes wide. The butter in the pan sizzled and popped, starting to brown, and Remy hurried over to lower the heat. “W—wait…” He patted the top of his own head and felt his bedraggled hair and smelled the faint smoke from the butter as he struggled to catch his breath. “This… this isn’t a dream,” he whispered.

A broad grin spread across Roman’s face. “Do you frequently kiss me good morning in your dreams?” He murmured close to his ear, low voice rumbling through his chest. When Logan didn’t answer, he pulled back and searched his eyes. “Unless… it was a mistake?”

Logan looked up, Roman’s brilliant green eyes soft with concern. And more than a little pain. “Not a mistake,” he whispered in a rush. “But maybe…” His eyes darted to the table where the boys were studiously spreading more jam on their toast. “Maybe something we should talk about?”

He looked toward the hall. “Perhaps we can go for a walk?”

Smiling, Remy revealed just how much they could hear from the table and picked up the spatula. “Breakfast will be ready for you both when you get back.”

They gathered their shoes and jackets silently, each wrapped in a bubble of their own thoughts. Guilt for kissing Roman without consent clashed with wild, desperate hope, his heart pounding to a rhythm of ‘he kissed you back, he kissed you back, he kissed you back.’

Words tangled in Logan’s throat, unable to push out even an apology. They stepped outside, each braced for the same chill the previous days had held, but the sun shone brightly, and the air was fresh and unseasonably warm.

He pointed to the park across the street. “There’s a quiet spot there by the pond, if… if you’d like….”

“That sounds perfect,” Roman smiled and offered his hand. When Logan hesitated, though, he lowered it, smile faltering.

Logan took a deep breath and risked it, lacing their fingers together before crossing the quiet street and heading into the park. The return of Roman’s smile told him it had been the right thing to do.

Dried leaves crunched underfoot, the gentle earthy scent following them down the path. “I’m so sorry I kissed you without asking,” Logan began. “I…” His throat tightened, but he pushed forward. “It’s not an excuse, just an explanation. I… I have had… many dreams like that,” he admitted in a tiny whisper, eyes down on the ground. “Where we… we're—we’re together and… I—I’m sorry.”

“Lo…” Roman stopped walking and tilted up his chin. “Is that why you’re so upset? You thought I was… bothered by our kiss?”

“That’s…” He nodded. There was so much more. “That’s part of it.”

“I liked our kiss,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“Oh.” Logan looked up into his eyes. Roman meant it.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure where your feelings were. This…" He smiled gently, thumb brushing over the edge of his jaw. "Something between us would be… new for you. I never would want to push you or make you… uncomfortable in any way.” Suddenly Roman looked nervous. “I… How…” He took a deep breath, like he was bracing himself for bad news. “How do you feel about it? Is it… Is kissing me something only for your dreams?”

Roman’s hand on his jaw was gentle and warm and Logan wanted nothing more than to throw himself into his arms. To forget why it would be wrong to take advantage of Roman’s kindness, to chase this feeling and…

“I liked our kiss, too,” he whispered, head screaming at his heart, but once the words slipped out, more followed. “I—I want more, I want all the things I dream about with you, I…” He clamped his mouth shut. No. He can’t ask for this.

Roman’s eyes grew guarded but he didn’t let go of his chin, or his hand. Not yet at least. His smile shrank, though, and his shoulders curled in as a familiar expression flashed over his face.

It took Logan a moment to recognize that the look in Roman's eyes was the same he’d had when talking about Devin. “Are we…" Roman swallowed hard, a tremor in his lips. "In your dreams are we only physical?”

“I…” Logan shook his head, the words sticking in his throat.

Confess! There’s no going back now. You can’t leave him thinking you just have dirty dreams about him.

“No.” Logan blinked back tears and tightened his grip on Roman’s hand, looking down at the way their fingers intertwined, the same way his mind wove their lives together in his sleep. “I… I get to love you in my dreams. We’re together, married sometimes,… usually,” he admitted after a moment. “And… and we dance and play or we wake up together or sometimes we’re…” He nodded, cheeks burning. “Sometimes we’re intimate.” Logan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Lo…” When he didn’t look up, Roman raised his chin until their eyes met. “Lo that’s beautiful. Why would you be sorry about that? Do you…” Sudden hurt washed over his face. “Do you… wish you didn’t feel that way? Not when you’re awake, at least? Do you… do you not really want that with me? ”

“Of course I want that with you.” He shook his head, staring back into Roman’s eyes. How to make him understand? “Ro, you’re incredible. Brilliant and creative, funny and so, so kind. You’re wonderful and… And you deserve so much more than… me.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard, determined to get through this. And with any luck at all, figure out a way to hold on to their friendship when he was done.

“I’m damaged. Scarred. Here…” He released Roman’s hand and held up the shameful scars on his left hand, including the newest from clumsily dropping a knife when he’d been startled by the damn doorbell. “And here.” He touched his chest, his traitorous heart pounding under his ribs. “I’m broken beyond repair.”

Roman smiled, tears in his eyes, and cradled Logan’s cheek with one hand, slowly shaking his head. “Lo, you are beautiful.” He covered his hand, tapping to the beat of his heart. “You're beautiful here.” Wrapping strong, warm fingers around Logan’s, he gently pulled his hand away from his chest and lifted it to his own lips, and kissed his scarred palm. “You're beautiful here.”

The hand on Logan's cheek shifted, tilting up his chin and brushing a thumb over his lips. “And you're beautiful here,” he whispered, once again closing the distance between them. Roman’s breath warmed his face, and he smelled like vanilla and coffee and strawberry jam. He smelled like home.

“Lo, I love you.”

“After everything you’ve seen?” He couldn’t hold back his tears, those soft, sweet words ripped right from his dreams just too much to hear. “I’m a mess, I jump at slamming doors, I work too much, I drop everything when one of the boys calls…” Roman chuckled and moved closer. “Why are you laughing?”

“You haven’t listed a single reason to love you any less,” he smiled, hand sliding back to card through his hair.

Logan stared, speechless, and he couldn’t help leaning into the soft touch.

“Do you love me?” Roman asked.

“Yes!" Logan whispered. "I love you so much. All I want is for you to be happy, Ro. I want you to have someone in your life who’s worthy of being by your side.”

“‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you,’ Lo,” Roman said, quietly but clearly. Logan stared back, eyes wide. “I never did get to finish what I was going to say that night. I felt it then…” He brushed a line of soft kisses down his cheek, following the trail of tears. Roman's lips burned against his skin, a sweet, hot fire. “And I feel it now.”

He shouldn’t. Logan knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop the words. “‘When you depart from me,’” he whispered, chest warming at Roman’s growing smile, “‘Sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.’”

Roman kissed the tears on his other cheek. “Then ‘thee I will love, and with thee lead my life.’” A gust of wind blew up over the water and Roman turned them, putting his back to the cold and shielding him. “I love you, Lo.”

“And I love you, Roman,” he whispered back.

“Then kiss me.” He lifted his chin, warm breath ghosting over Logan’s cheeks. “Kiss me like you did in your dream. Kiss me like your heart tells you to.” He drew closer, lips grazing his with each word. “Kiss me like you love me, Lo. And let me love you back.”

Logan couldn’t remember anymore why he was fighting this feeling, this warmth. A slow smile spread across his face. “Happily,” he whispered, and pulled him down into their second first kiss.

Epilogue

Spring brought longer days, warmer weather, and finally, in May, Remy and Emile’s wedding.

The ceremony was small and intimate, held in the sanctuary at Emile’s parent’s temple. After an oneg attended by the congregation, QLaw staff, and everyone in the newly joined families, a second party kicked off at a candlelit park down the street.

Virgil’s music was loud and boisterous, a benefit of a grass-filled park surrounded by shops that closed by seven on a Sunday and they danced into the night. Taking a break, Roman and Logan had found a mostly quiet corner in a gazebo and they blew bubbles and watched the remaining couples dance.

As the moon rose up over the trees, the music slowed and a quiet guitar melody spilled from the portable speakers. “Oh… I love this song,” Logan murmured, his eyes soft and sparkling in the candlelight.

Attabody, Virge.

Sending the DJ a little two-fingered salute, Roman grinned at Logan. “I know.” He offered his hand and whispered, “May I have this dance, Lo?”

Logan looked up, cheeks a sweet pink that matched his boutonniere, and nodded. Roman draped his arms over Logan’s shoulders and pulled his body close, the soft, easy tempo a wonderful excuse to hold his love in his arms. They swayed to the music, Logan leading in that gentle way of his.

He tucked his face close to Logan’s neck and breathed in his warmth, the scent of spice and vanilla, even a hint of his own cologne. Roman chuckled when Logan suddenly pulled back, a new grin spread across his face. “Wait—how did you know I like this song?”

“You called me your ‘old heart,’ the day you kissed me,” he murmured. “And everytime it plays in the car, you hum along.”

Face hidden against his chest, Logan chucked. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“But I always listen to you,” Roman smiled into his hair, brushing kisses against his temple and his cheek. “Besides, I like it.”

They danced quietly, the extended version Virgil had created giving Roman plenty of time to phrase his next words. “It makes a lovely wedding song,” he whispered.

“Mm-hm,” Logan nodded, relaxing into his arms. “It does.”

“We could dance to it next year,” Roman murmured, pulse pounding in his ears. “If you’d like.”

Still holding him, Logan stepped back, eyes wide. Roman pulled a tiny box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a silver band. “‘Here, take my ring. My house, mine honor, yea, my life, be thine. And I'll be bid by thee.’” he whispered. “‘A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.’ Will you marry me?”

Logan was quiet, staring up at him with a thousand thoughts swirling behind those steel blue eyes. Swallowing back the fear bubbling in his chest, Roman stroked Logan's cheek and waited. Then the clouds parted and his face beamed in a brilliant smile.

“I was going to wait until we were home.” A soft laugh spilled from Roman's lips when Logan reached into his own pocket and revealed a remarkably similar ring nestled in his palm. “‘And on your finger in the night I'll put another ring, that what in time proceeds may token to the future our past deeds.’” Chuckling quietly, he drew close and whispered against his lips. “You have won a husband of me. And I of you. And there my hope has grown, Old Heart.”

Roman’s eyes fluttered closed as Logan pulled him down into a slow, soft kiss. An entirely different song was finishing by the time they broke apart for air. Chuckling, Roman carded his fingers through Logan’s hair and worked to still his heart enough to speak. A newly familiar fuzziness filled his chest as, instead, he lost himself in those bright blue eyes.

“So is that a yes?” Logan grinned.

Head thrown back in a laugh, he nodded. “Yes!” Roman pulled him closer. “With everything I am, yes!”

Taglist: @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Ask to be added for other stories :D

13 notes · View notes

rizlowwritessortof · 2 years

Text

Sunshine

This fic was written for @deanwanddamons Three’s a Crowd 3K Followers Challenge. My quote - “I mean, accidents just don’t happen accidentally” will be in bold. My trope - Opposites Attract (Rich girl/Blue collar Dean). And my Third Wheel - Parents (in this case a very snobbish disapproving mother). Sian, I hope I did your Sian Special justice! 😁

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2952

Warnings: Nothing but the usual smut

The awesome dividers are from the amazing @talesmaniac89

“Dean, you look like a stalker.”

Dean geared back in his chair, shooting his brother a disparaging look. “Just appreciating the scenery, Sammy. Unlike you who can’t tear their eyes away from that fascinating research.” His eyes wandered back to the girl in line at the window for coffee, the breeze stirring her hair and the skirt of her sun dress. “How can you not notice her? She’s a beauty, and she looks like a classy chick.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, classy chicks always go for guys like us.”

Dean smirked, looking at Sam with challenge in his eyes. “So you don’t think she’d be interested in me?”

“No way. Looks like a little rich girl, and I bet that’s her mom with her, in the Jackie O suit, all that’s missing is the pillbox hat. She’d shoot you down before you even got close to her daughter.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, we’ll see about that.” Dean rose to his feet, turning after a step to look back and shake his head. “By the way, nice fashion assessment, Samantha.”

“Shut up,” Sam fired back, bitch face aimed at Dean’s back as his brother’s bow-legged stride carried him closer to his target.

You waited patiently at the counter for your coffee order and your mother’s cup of tea to be finished. It was a gorgeous spring day, the sun warm on your shoulders, and you watched, trying not to roll your eyes as your mother pulled a tissue from her purse and disdainfully brushed at some invisible thing on her chair. She hadn’t wanted to stop at an outdoor coffee spot, but you loved to sit outside and enjoy coffee here. She’d live. Your mother needed to loosen up.

You shook your head, watching her gingerly perch herself on her chair, and you couldn’t help smiling. Not that you didn’t love her, but you were glad you had moved far enough away that you didn’t have to be under her scrutiny every day. The barista came to the window with your order, and you payed them, leaving a generous tip. You turned, coffee in one hand and your mother’s tea in the other, and collided with a tall man, gasping as both drinks hit the pavement, splashing all over the previously pristine white of your dress and the denim he was wearing.

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” You stood there, mouth open, eyes slowly scanning upwards as he spoke.

Your gaze made its way over his solid chest and broad shoulders, finally reaching his face. Your brain nudged you to close your mouth, and you did, finally nodding and forcing words out. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” My God, he was a stunning man – perfect hair, sexy lips, long-lashed eyes that were a stunning shade of green.

“I’m really sorry. Tripped over my own feet. Let me buy you some more coffee.” He grabbed a handful of napkins from the counter, bending to dab a little at your skirt, handing them to you as you reached for them. “I’ll pay for your cleaning bill. Sure you’re okay?”

You managed to smile up at him, and his eyes lit up. “I’m good, I promise. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You returned to the counter together, reordering your drinks, and Dean paid, offering to bring them to your table. Your mother watched, her expression tight and disapproving, as you approached. “Mom, this is Dean. We had a little collision and he gallantly offered to buy our drinks.”

Dean placed your mother’s tea in front of her, nodding towards her as he spoke. “Ma’am. Nice to meet you. Sorry for the trouble. I’ll pay for the cleaning bill.”

You sat down, thanking him as he set your coffee on the table. “Thank you, it’s really not necessary. It was an accident.”

“No, I insist. I can – meet you back here in the morning? I don’t have any cash on me today, but I’ll still be around tomorrow, if that works?”

You deliberately ignored your mother’s glare as you answered. “All right, I can meet you here, around 9? I come here for coffee most days, anyway.” You smiled up at him and he returned the favor, nodding in agreement.

“9 it is! See you then.” With another nod to your mother, he turned to walk away, and you happily watched, finally turning back to your mother’s reproachful stare.

“Mom. Please stop. He feels bad about what happened and he’s trying to be nice.”

She cleared her throat and picked up her tea, taking a sip before speaking. “He seems rather disreputable.”

You rolled your eyes in response. “Mother, anyone not in you and Daddy’s club seems ‘disreputable’ to you. I think he seems very nice.”

“I am concerned about you, living in the middle of this city, being influenced by all the – eccentric types who live in this neighborhood. You should have gone back to school like we wanted, gotten your masters degree instead of this job of yours. You should be dating a suitable boy by now, thinking about your future. Instead, you’re wasting your time exploring and absorbing all sorts of God knows what kind of ideas, and by the time you realize we were right all along, it may be too late. We would like you to come home.”

“That’s not going to happen, Mother. You and Daddy need to accept that and accept that I’m living my life the way I want to, not the way you have tried to dictate. And don’t threaten me about my trust fund, I don’t want to hear it. Just drink your tea and let’s try to enjoy our day.”

Sam looked up as Dean approached their table with a grin. “Guess who’s meeting little rich girl here tomorrow morning?”

His younger brother shook his head with a wry smile. “Yeah. Very smooth, Dean.” He stood, grabbing his laptop to head towards the parking lot, and Dean swatted him on the shoulder as he walked beside him.

“Takes planning. I mean, accidents just don’t happen accidentally, Sammy.”

Dean arrived a little early the next morning, settling in with his Americano and his phone. He wanted to be there when you showed up, watch you walk into the seating area, take in your presence, enjoy it all before he approached you. Hopefully you’d show up without your mom. She was definitely not a fan.

When you came around the corner, he almost choked on his coffee. You were wearing a flowered halter dress, your toes tipped in red to match, your eyes shining as you said something to – unfortunately – your mother. You walked directly to the counter, and he debated, then headed your way.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said quietly, bending close to your ear, and you turned to him with a smile.

“Dean! Good morning! Looks like you beat us here. We just couldn’t get going this morning.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm as you talked, not mentioning the fact that the reason you were almost late was that your mother had argued with you for over an hour about coming at all. You had finally put your foot down and told her you were going, but she insisted that if you were meeting this ‘shady character,’ then she was going to be there.

Your drinks were ready, so you paid the barista and handed your mother’s tea to her with a pointed stare. “Please just go sit, Mother, I’ll be there in a minute.” Obviously displeased, she took the cup from your hand and went to the same table you had occupied the day before, disapproval clear even though not a word was spoken. “Sorry about that. She has very antiquated ideas about – well, about everything. Including letting her daughter lead her own life. You’d think I was 16 years old.”

Dean laughed softly. “I get it. She’s just trying to protect you. Gotta admit, though, I was hoping you’d show up without her today.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills. “Here. For the cleaning. Like I promised.”

“Dean, really, you don’t…” You stopped as he shook his head and pushed the money back towards you. “All right, if it makes you feel better. But it’s really not necessary.”

“I think it is. Anyway – it was really nice meeting you. Maybe someday I’ll come this way again and find you here.”

“Maybe…” You looked up through your lashes at him. “Or maybe you can meet me, say – in one hour? The bookstore on the corner. In the basement. I’ll put my mother in the reading lounge with a cup of tea and then I’ll meet you down there. If you want.”

A slow smile curved his lips, his eyes warm. “Oh, I’ll be there, sunshine.”

About 45 minutes later, Dean entered the book store, wandering until he found a sign reading ‘Vintage Books’ pointing the way to the stairs. The basement was huge, filled with bookshelves, tables and bins full of used books, grouped by genre. Dean smirked to himself, thinking how much Sammy would love this place.

There was no one down there, so Dean walked around, picking up a book here and there, killing time. He had made his way to the far corner of the room, engrossed in reading the back of a book, when you walked up beside him. “Figures I’d find you in this section,” you teased, and he grinned, glancing at the sign – ‘Erotica.’

“Huh. Thought this was the ‘Historical’ section,” he responded with a grin, and you laughed softly.

“Right. Of course you did.” He replaced the book on the shelf and turned towards you, his eyes moving over your features, waiting. The room suddenly seemed airless, and you moved a step closer, stretching up to kiss his lips, soft and tentative. When you stopped, looking up at him, his tongue darted out over his bottom lip before he put his hands on your upper arms and pulled you close, his lips sealing over yours in a searing kiss that sent your pulse racing, heat flushing through your body. When your tongues began to mingle, you raised your arms to clasp around his neck, his large hands guiding you, moving you until your back was against the bookcase as his body pressed close. He was a solid mass of muscle, working man’s muscle, smooth and taut and powerful, and being pinned by him like that sent an electric zing right to your clit, making you moan.

He finally lifted his head, both of you panting for air. You looked into his lust-darkened eyes for a moment before putting your hand on his chest and pushing lightly. He took a step back and watched as you reached behind your neck and untied your halter dress, bringing the ties forward and letting the floral fabric fall to your waist, baring your breasts. Dean’s jaw clenched as his eyes devoured you, and then he looked into your eyes, waiting for your slight smile to tell him it was okay to continue.

He ran calloused fingers over your soft curves, staring almost reverently, before cupping them in his hands. You gripped the shelf behind you as he strummed his fingers over your nipples, watching them stiffen into hard little nubs. Your head hit the bookshelf behind you with a thump as he took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing, flicking, lapping at you until you felt dizzy. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensified as he began to suck gently, and you blushed at the sounds forcing their way from between your lips.

He finally pulled back, blowing over the spit-slick bud, making it tighten even more. “Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, then moved to the other side, and you whined, your fingers gripping his hair.

“Dean, ohmygod,” you whispered, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile as he continued to tease at your nipple, his hands gripping your waist. He nibbled at the peak, and the almost-painful throb in your pussy was more than you could take. “Please… Dean, please. I need…”

He pulled off your breast with a soft pop, raising up to his full height. “What do you need, sweetheart? I’m more than happy to help.” His beautiful green eyes were almost black with want, but he was going to make you ask before he went any further.

“Need you… inside me. Fuck me, Dean, please,” you begged, and he clenched his teeth, pulling in a hissing breath as your hand found the aching bulge in his jeans. “Please.”

He nodded, and the expression on his face made you clench around nothing, almost desperate now for him. He pulled a condom from his pocket, tearing it open with his teeth and then fumbling with his button and zipper, sighing in relief as his cock was finally freed from its confines. He shoved his clothes down far enough to free himself, rolling the condom on as you watched, wide-eyed and wanting.

Dean pulled at the skirt of your sun dress, lifting it out of his way as his fingers stroked up your inner thigh. You moved your legs apart, reveling in his surprised moan at finding no underwear barring his way. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, his large hand kneading at your pussy, your hips pushing into his touch.

“Took them off before I came down,” you whispered, then gasped as he slipped two fingers inside you, his thumb swirling around your swollen clit. He found your sweet spot in no time, and had you trembling and on the edge so fast your head was spinning. He pulled his fingers free, leaving you panting and clutching at the bookshelves until your knuckles were white. “Please. Dean, please!”

He leaned in to kiss you, stealing what little breath you had left, his hands moving around to the back of your thighs to lift you, letting you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, baby,” he ground out, waiting until you were clinging to his neck before moving a hand down between you, angling his cock to your entrance and pushing in slowly.

There was a silent, quivering space of time as he held you, waiting for your trembling body to adjust, the sensation almost overwhelming. When he felt you begin to relax against him, he gripped you tight and pulled back slightly, then drove up into you, groaning, “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so damn good.”

He continued to move slowly, and you clutched his shoulders, leaning in to breathe, “Fuck me, Dean,” into his ear. The moan that you got in response made your cunt squeeze around him, and with a soft growl he began driving into you, your body braced against the bookcase behind you, your legs clamped around his hips. He was punching breathless cries from you with every thrust, and you could only hope that no one else had come downstairs, because the blissful tension in your body was building to the point of oblivion. “Dean… aaahhh… I can’t…”

“Come for me, sweetheart, just let go. Squeeze that pretty cunt around my cock, come on…” His rhythm was faltering, his voice desperate. He buried himself deep inside you, holding himself there as he shoved his hand between you to rub rough fingers over your clit, and you bit your lips to smother the scream trying to escape from your throat as you came. Dean began to move again, his head buried in your shoulder, pistoning into you hard and fast as he worked you through your orgasm and reached his, bucking against you as his balls drew up tight and he exploded.

The throbbing of his cock inside you sent another wave of heat through you, and you clung to Dean with all your strength, your body shaking. He raised his head, looking into your eyes for a moment before kissing you, slow and deep, until you quieted. Then he took a step back, his hands on your waist as he lifted you slightly, pulling himself free and sending a shudder through you.

He set you on your feet, supporting you until he was sure you were steady, a soft smile on his face. He moved away for a moment, grabbing a tissue from a nearby desk and disposing of the condom, putting himself back together before coming back, a wistful look in his eyes. “I wish we had more time.”

You smiled back, your eyes closing for a moment as he bent to place a gentle kiss to each nipple before pulling your dress back up and tying the knot behind your neck. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He put a hand to your face, that same tender look on his face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Glad I – um – ran into you.”

You laughed quietly. “Me, too. Maybe sometime you’ll be back this way when my mother isn’t here. Maybe we could run into each other again.”

Dean grinned. “That’d be nice.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. “Put your number in. Next time I make it this way I’ll give you a call.”

You did as he asked, then stepped close and stretched up for a kiss. “Maybe we’ll go for coffee.”

“Maybe we’ll do a lot of things.” He kissed you again, cupping your breast and squeezing gently.

After the long, lingering kiss, you stepped back reluctantly. “I’d better go. She’ll be getting impatient.” You reach for his hand. “Take care of yourself, Dean.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He watched you as you left, then looked at his phone, smiling as he saw your number and the name next to it – ‘Sunshine.’

Tags for my lovelies: @saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog @savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester

#sunshine #deanwanddamons3Kfollowerschallenge #dean fic #dean x reader #dean smut #dean fluff #fluffy smut

98 notes · View notes

penname-artist · 10 months

Text

Tidbits #4

Q & A: Define 'Softy'

Notice: this chapter of 'Tidbits' is reposted from it's original document of 2021, and may no longer be up-to-date with current headcanons.

Tanel asks: I feel like i asked it somewhere, but i am not sure.. Does Windlifter think that Blade is sexy AF and visa versa?

To answer your first thing, it was a question on Sharatrap's Q and A that I know of. And, headcanon wise....ehhhhh not really? I mean, we all know the both of them are sexy fucks, but as to them thinking that of one another, its almost completely irrelevant to them - they've never been romantic towards each other, even though in Emergency they've escalated to "old married couple" in terms of conversation.

Now, that isn't to say they don't admire one another. Blade has always looked up to Windlifter like a guiding force, and someone he feels can be a safe space to speak out about personal matters. Windlifter, in turn, thinks highly of his chief, and would do all in his power to take care of him if need arises. They've spent hard nights together, and in those times they've bonded like brothers.

You've heard the saying 'birds of a feather'? Well these two are more like chopps' of a rotor. And they flock together.

Sharatrap123 asks: Is Blade a softy :3?

I have no idea under what context this even is, so I'll just try to cover the broadband of "everything".

In terms of emotional vulnerability (which I think is really what this question meant XD) kind of, it depends. So, Blade has a soft core; however, years and years and years and years of heartache and loss, and then trying to be a firefighter and train a crew, has made him build up shell after shell around it until, outwardly, he's got a heart made of steel. But, if course, there's ways to break through all those layers! ;)

In terms of physical appearance...I mean, his sponsons only act as extensions of his landing gear, so equivalent to his hips....so he may not be soft, but damn he thicc. *I'm getting angry glares, guys help me I might die*

And lastly, kind of an extension of the first point, Blade has a soft spot for:

-Tegus, and other reptiles (he got hooked on them after Trigger)

-Kids, oddly enough (they do terrify him, but hes at least got the sense to bring down his Big Tough Gruff mode if he has to work with one, I.e. pulling a kid from a fire, etc)

-Lets make this known, Blade does look at good looking male helis and planes with 'interest' now and again. Would it be considered a soft spot? Not really. Is it necessary information? The hell it isnt, my good proppies must know the truth! XD

-The old men of the PPAA always tease this, but yes Blade does also have a soft spot for chocolates, specifically those really really dark chocolates that are so dark theyre almost bitter-tasting. Someone always manages to find one to stuff in the chief's stocking around Christmas (the team does a little secret-santa type thing every year).

ShuTodoroki asks: How dependent are the Piston Peak crew on coffee? Like, rank the Piston Peak crew from "I can deal with no coffee in the morning" to "I need coffee to live." XD

Oh boi! Lesse here…

Going from the members who need the least amount of coffee, we have: Windlifter (he actually doesn’t drink coffee, he has a regular habit of instead drinking herbal teas and such); Patch and Pinecone, who’ve both picked up on the tea habits (well, on frequent occasion, but not always); Avalanche and Drip who are both banned from having more than two spoons of sugar in their mugs; Blackout who forgets where he leaves his mug all the time; Dynamite and Dusty, who both have “normal” takings; Dipper who’s a sugar-addict; Blade who ends up drinking coffee at night (go. The fuck. Ta bed!) ; Maru, who has evil concoctions of coffee and what the team suspects is Redbull (hey, it works when he’s trying to save a team member); and the winner of the coffee-addiction is actually Cabbie, both because he drinks much larger cups than everyone else, and because it takes at least two whole cups to get the old engines firing in the morning.

#disney planes #disneyplanes #planes fire and rescue #disney planes 2 #blade ranger #dusty crophopper #cabbie #windlifter #maru #disney planes tidbits

7 notes · View notes

litaskick · 2 years

Note

Being Seth’s sister but Cody’s wife and feeling torn on who to support during their match ups, but in the end it’s always Cody.

my requests are open, request here - who i write for - request rules - cody rhodes masterlist

warnings: none

a/n: keep sending me those cody ideas, i love writing them

genre: fluff

pairing: cody rhodes x gn!reader

summary: Your torn on who to support at WrestleMania, your brother, Seth Rollins, or your husband, Cody Rhodes

It's Always Going to be You

When you got the news for who your brother, Seth, was going against, you felt torn. Cody Rhodes, your husband, is who he was going against. Your brother against your husband. You felt conflicted about the whole thing. You loved both of the men dearly, which was causing you distress on who to support. At first you thought it was easy, of course you were going to support your husband, the love of your life, the American Nightmare, Cody Rhodes. But then you started overthinking the whole thing, Seth was your brother after all, he had been there for you since day one. Cody knew you were struggling on who to support. It was an issue, and WrestleMania was just approaching in a day. You sat with Becky, your sister in law, at a coffee shop the morning of WrestleMania. Becky noticed that you were being quiet, which usually meant you were thinking about something.

“What’s wrong?” Becky asked, placing her cup down.

You looked up at her. “It’s just about Cody and Seth’s match.” You told her.

“What about it?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“It sounds stupid but, I just don’t know who to support in it.” You answered.

“Well…” Becky paused, thinking about what to say.

“You love them both, obviously. But, Cody is the one you married, you are partners for life, you will always be each other’s biggest supporters. Yes, Seth is your brother, but he isn’t your partner for life.” Becky explained.

You nodded. “You are totally right.” You smiled at her.

“Yeah, and don’t worry, I’ll be there supporting Seth.” Becky laughed.

You laughed with her, and you two chatted a bit more before you two needed to get to the arena. When you got there, you two parted ways, each going to your respective area. You went to the bus where Cody was. You knocked on the door to let him know you were coming in, and then you opened the door. Cody was sitting on the couch, already in his ring gear. You placed your bag down on a chair, and then went to sit down next to him.

“Why are you already in your gear?” You asked.

“Well, I thought I’d just go ahead and get ready, that way I’m not rushing to change before I need to be in the gorilla.” Cody explained.

“Oh.” You nodded.

Cody placed his hand on your thigh, looking at your outfit. “You decided who your supporting I’m guessing?” He said, gesturing towards your clothes.

You were wearing your American Nightmare Jacket, Cody had a matching one.

“Yeah, Becky and me talked.” You answered, smiling.

“What made you decide?” Cody asked.

“Well, we’re married, and that means that we’re partners for life, we are each other’s biggest supporters. It’s always going to be you.” You told him, smiling as you held his hand.

“Don’t get all sappy on me before my match.” Cody said teasingly.

You giggled a bit.

“But, in all seriousness, that’s really sweet. I love you, y/n”

“I love you too, Cody.” You whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.

A staff member knocked on the door. “We need you down at the gorilla soon.”

Cody pulled away from the kiss, standing up and pulling you with him. He smiled at you, grabbing your hand, and you two walked down to the gorilla. When you got down there, you saw your brother.

“Well, you certainly look the part tonight.” You told Seth, looking over his ridiculous furry coat.

“Oh, shut up.” Seth nudged you with his elbow, teasingly.

“Good luck tonight though.” You said.

“Thanks, I see who you’re mainly supporting tonight.” Seth smiled, looking at your jacket.

“Yeah, I have to support my husband though.” You told him.

“You and Becky both.” Seth laughed, motioning over towards his wife in the corner.

She had thrown a Seth Rollins shirt over her ring gear from her match earlier tonight. You laughed too when you saw it, she looked ridiculous.

“Hey, I was on a time limit here!” Becky said defensively in her Irish accent when she noticed you, Seth, and Cody laughing.

You just shook your head. Seth’s music finally hit, and he went out through the curtain. You turned back to Cody.

“I’m cheering you on, always.” You told him.

#cody rhodes #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes fanfic #cody rhodes imagines #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes oneshots

214 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing a nsfw story about Levi + f reader getting walked in on by one of the cadets? Then Levi needing to the the Corps about their relationship then ending with some fluff/Levi holding his ground when others are upset about about a relationship in the workplace? I would really appreciate it 🥰

AN: this is such a cute request! I feel like I could've done a better job with this one so maybe I'll come back to it haha

Summery: Jean, Sasha, and Connie walk in on you and Levi. Chaos ensues.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: oral sex fem receiving, cussing.

kinda steamy in the beginning so a put a cut just in case you aren't into that ;)

______

Moments like this were fleeting and far between. You took what you could get, in empty storage rooms, open fields, in his office. Levi's breath was hot against your lips as he pressed you up against his desk, his knee slotted between your legs. You pulled away briefly to jump onto his desk, sweeping the papers off to the side. He shot you an irritated look but you only smirked wryly back at him. His hands were planned on your knees, prying them apart with fervor and then tugging you closer to the edge so he could press his growing bulge to your own needy cunt.

You groaned and rolled your hips into his as he pressed his hungry mouth to yours. You opened your mouth wider, allowing him to slip his tongue in and properly taste you.

"Levi, we've got to hurry." You felt delirious as he kissed down your throat, his lips burning your skin. His fingers began to tug at the straps of your gear and you began to unbuckle his own belts and buttons. After you had both been stripped of your tops he continued to kiss his way down your chest, gently urging you to lay back on the desk. You did so, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could watch as he tugged your pants down to rest at your ankles. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, bringing his mouth to your dripping pussy.

You spread your legs as wide as you could but he grabbed your thighs and brought them to press tightly against his ears, his stormy grey eyes blown out. You whimpered as he liked a fleeting stripe up the length of your pussy, your hips rolling to meet his tongue. He had just begun to tease your clit when the sound of the doorknob rattling made your heart leap into your throat.

"Levi" your fingers that had been in his hair, pushing him closer to you now tugged his hair, urging him to get his face out from between your legs.

"Mf" His voice was muffled as he still had his lips pressed against your cunt.

"Stop!" You hissed, but it was too late, the door swung open, Jean, Sasha, and Connie stood with wide eyes as they took in the scene before them.

"Captain!" Connie cried, Jean's hands flew to either side and covered his friends’ eyes, while his remained wide as he watched Levi scramble to cover you. You pressed yourself against his back, looking over his shoulder.

"Get the fuck out." Levi's voice shook a bit and Jean nodded, steering his friends away before reaching back for the doorknob and slamming the door shut.

"I told you to stop." You hissed, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His hand was pressed over his eyes, hiding the flush that had developed on his cheeks.

"I know." He groaned, turning to face you, his usual stoic exterior slowly falling back into place.

“Well, what do we do now?” Panic was bubbling up in your throat, thoughts of the cadets going to Erwin or even worse, Hange.

“I’m thinking.” Levi stepped away from you, the mood ruined. You stumbled off of the desk and tugged your pants back on, hurrying to buckle your gear back on.

“We can’t not address it.” You thought aloud as Levi buttoned his shirt.

“I thought I locked the door.” Levi seemed to still be in shock, and you felt for him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, they saw and now we have to confront them.” You said tugging your jacket on over your shoulders.

“We should call them back in here. Tell them to keep quiet.” You were pacing now, the bare soles of your feet padding against the pristine wood floors.

“They probably already spilled to half of the regiment by now.” Levi scoffed, stooping down to pick up the papers you had tossed onto the ground.

“We’ve got to try.” You felt helpless, so irresponsible, and guilty. You were here for humanity, you weren’t supposed to get caught up in your lust. You were a soldier damn it.

“Fine, you go round them up then.” Levi flicked his wrist towards the door and you scowled at the back of his head as you marched off to find the kids.

____

You found them in the mess hall, all of the 104th cadets gathered at one of the large tables. You figured that at this point it would be easier to just bring Levi here. But you paused, noticing that they had not yet felt your presence.

“I don’t believe a word out of your mouths.” Reiner sat with a skeptical look on his face.

“Yeah, no way they would do that on Levi’s desk. He’s too much of a clean freak.” It was Armin speaking now, his fingers twisted together as he processed the information.

“You’ve got to believe us! They were about to fuck right there in the office!” It was Jean who was speaking now, Connie and Sasha both began yelling over him in a hurry to agree. You decided to cap it now before it got too rowdy and anyone else walked into the conversation.

“Cadets,” You rounded the corner you had been hiding behind and they all stood, chairs scraping against the cobblestone floors. Their firsts were clenched over their hearts as you stood with your chin held high.

“Stay here we have something that needs to be discussed.” Their faces were flushed with embarrassment at being caught gossiping. Then slowly sat back down as you retreated, hurrying to get Levi. You came back a few short minutes later, Levi in tow the cadets were silent now, faces turned down to look at the table.

“...” The silence was thick as Levi remained by the door, clearly, he wanted you to take charge here.

“The rumors are true.” You said simply, their heads whipped up, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Captain Levi and I are in a relationship. We’re sorry that you three saw us earlier.” You apologized and Connie’s ears were so red as he avoided eye contact with you.

“I thought relationships were strictly forbidden,” Jean mumbled, and you inhaled sharply.

“They can be...tricky. But I don’t feel that we have to explain ourselves to you. Our relationship has no impact on you.” You glanced back at Levi who was glaring daggers at the kids.

“But you’re our squad leaders.” Armin looked concerned.

“Yes, and we don’t intend to let it affect our work here.” Levi finally spoke up, taking a few more steps into the room to stand next to you.

“But captain-” Eren didn’t get to finish his thought, Levi held up a hand for silence and he deflated in his seat.

“You’re 16 years old you know better than to stick your noses in other people’s business,” Levi grumbled, and the kids all shared some uneasy looks.

“Or at least I hope.” He turned on his heel to leave and you shot the kids a tight-lipped grin.

“See you guys in the morning.” You waved at them and they all looked at you, clearly, they had more questions. But frankly, you didn’t feel like explaining anything to them.

___

You never got to finish what you started with Levi earlier that evening. Instead, the two of you ended up in his office going through the stacks of paperwork and letters that needed signing. You had been working in silence, sipping on lukewarm cups of tea when there was a soft knock at the door. It was timid and it made you flinch, you looked to Levi since it was his office after all.

“Enter.” He said plainly, not even glancing up from his work. Hange came in with Connie in tow, Connie’s shirt balled up in Hange’s fist.

“I got the best news today.” Hange thrust Connie in front of them, their brown eyes alight with mischief.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Levi refused to give them the satisfaction of acting surprised or nervous.

“A little birdie told me that you two were fornicating here in this very room.” They sat down heavily in the sofa and propped their feet up on the small coffee table.

“Really.” Levi huffed, setting his pen aside and looking up, glaring daggers at Connie.

“I-I swear they just heard me and Sasha talking about it! I didn’t mean to tell them!” Connie fell to his knees, hands clasped together in a pleading motion.

“Hange, this is so unprofessional.” You groaned, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh yeah? And getting down and dirty in the office is professional?” They cackled as you rolled your eyes and stood from your seat. Now it was your turn to manhandle Connie. You grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet, pushing him towards the door. He turned and grabbed your forearm, and you paused.

“You gotta believe me (Y/n) I’m really sorry and I’m happy for you two I really am!” He was rambling and you gave him a soft smile before shoving him out of the door.

“Yeah, Connie I believe you, go to bed.” You ruffled his nonexistent hair before sending him on his way. He smiled up at you before turning and running off down the hall. Hange was still comfortable on the couch, and Levi was still scribbling away at his desk.

“Hange you have two seconds before I lay your ass on that floor.” Levi threatened and Hange groaned before standing up slowly and walking backwards towards the door.

“Bye Hange.” You waved to them and they saluted you, fingers pressed to their forehead as they slipped out of the room and shut the door behind them.

“We’ll talk later.” They promised and you nodded in agreement. Once they were gone you rounded the desk and stooped to press a kiss to Levi’s temple. He grunted but leaned into your touch as you rubbed his shoulder.

“It’s been a long day, you should go to bed soon.” You knew that he wouldn’t but you would never stop trying to get him to sleep.

“Mhm.” He mumbled as your fingers wandered into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“I mean it.” You said, this time pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. He loosened up, his head turning to finally face you.

“I’ll try...stay a while longer.” His soft plead made your heart flutter and you hummed in response, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Sure, but I’m going to bed.” You laughed and Levi sighed, shoving his work aside and standing to follow you to his adjoining bedroom.

394 notes · View notes