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taste-of-the-divine · 1 year

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ꕤ | Inked | Percy De Rolo

— VOX MACHINA : switch!percy x femcumslut!reader

✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: you're the first to fall asleep at a party, and you get cumslut written over your forehead with a marker. it causes an "issue" for percy a few hours later. ✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: fic (Part 1), 1.8k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: missing consent/dubcon (percy as victim), powerplay (subby percy into dom percy), degredation, namecalling (cumsl*t, wh*re, l*ve), somnophelia, cumhungry!reader, power dynamic switch, sir, mentions of breeding

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: i did not proofread this :') hopefulyl its legible BUT eventually i'll go back and make the edits i need. the idea was inspired by this post, and it's probably (?) not done yet.

♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

“Oh cmon, wasn’t the bet that the first one asleep gets a dick drawn on their forehead?”

Percy, your boyfriend, shoots Scanlan a dirty look through his rosy drunk cheeks. “Have you no decency? She’s a lady for God’s sake, Scanlan. How will I explain to all of Whitestone tomorrow if we have to leave the confines of our home?”

The pop of a marker and the cap clicking against the floor was enough of a signal that Scanlan didn’t quite care all that much for the high maintenance prince. “Well, then you have an excuse to stay in for a day. Resting’s important, Percy,” he says, before hopping onto a stool to get to your head, slumped over on the couch. Percy stumbles to his feet to try and stop him from putting that bright pink ink on your skin, but he’s forced back into his chair at the hand of Vax.

“Hey, he’s right, you know. You kind of need a day at home, if you ask me,” Vax says, leaning his weight on Percy’s shoulder to keep him down. Percy glares at him too, going to shove his hand away so that he could get to you, but to no avail. Percy’s too wasted for hand eye coordination.

“Oh, Percy, darling, relax,” his sister says from across the table, looking at Scanlan trying to balance and draw on your knocked out face. “She agreed to the game before we even started drinking, and she’s an adult, so I’m sure she’ll be fine. And if she isn’t– well, you can make sure she’s fine. In the morning. No more fussing about it now, you can barely get to your feet,” she says, words slurring before taking a swig out of her bottle.

He can’t relax, at least not when Pike isn’t around. Pike’s usually the babysitter of the group, and with Keyleth vomiting her guts out again, they were somewhere downstairs in the bathroom. Grog wouldn’t be of much help either– he was entranced in some sort of conversation with his reflection in the mirror, flexing and unflexing his muscles to look at.

“Annnnnd, ta-da!” Scanlan grins, showing the marvel to the three others in the room. Cumslut was written across your forehead in big, bold letters, with a penis as the T. Scanlan was really, an artist of all trades.

Percy was the first to react, and the only one that didn’t burst out in absolute side pinching tears. “Scanlan! You little useless bard!” He swung around to Vex and Vax. “I thought we agreed that it would be the dick drawing?”

“Well,–” Vex laughs, whipping away his tears. “There is a dick. There’s just–” he makes eye contact with Vex across the table, who was holding her own laughter for a little before the two burst out again into hearty giggles. “–some other additions.”

Percy sighed. There wasn’t really another other choice; what’s done is done. Hopefully you wouldn’t be too mad when you woke up in the morning about it. And hopefully, the ink would come off soon.

Percy, with his lithe frame, was not the one that carried you into bed. Grog actually carried the both of you into bed– bragging that he could do anything with his giant muscles. Percy would have been grateful for that omission of an opportunity to make a fool out of himself, had he been properly awake during that time of the night. He’d passed out on his own accord after a few more shots into the night.

It didn’t take long before he stirred awake. Alcohol never quite helped keep him asleep as well as it put him to sleep. But his body sure felt warm, skin flushed a little as he reveled in the pleasure of being under clean sheets. There was also pleasure budding from his core, some shifting between his legs–

“What on earth?!–” he manages to choke out before throwing his head backwards as some cavern of warm, wet heat descends on him. It felt good and needy and desperate, and when he had the moment to take a breath from the sudden crashing waves of pleasure, he lifted the blankets to find you, face nestled neatly between his legs, with his cock in your mouth and a protruding cheek.

“My love,” he says, voice soft and hitched at first. “Y-you need to stop or else,–” A groan cuts through, his hands fisting the sheet that he’s holding up to see you kitten licking his tip.

“What’s gotten into you?” he hisses, but he doesn’t get an answer because you take his whole length into your mouth again, mushroom tip gliding against the roof of your mouth before sinking into your back tongue. He’s watching you, or doing the best he can with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth agape. When you wrap your hands around his base, twisting and bobbing at the same time, Percy grimaces, one eye forcing itself shut as he watches you with the other. His cheeks are flushed a deep red, and his skin feels sticky under the touch of your fingers, but all you can think about is his cum, and how much you want it down your throat.

“S-slow d-down,” he stutters, a frustrated moan drawing out of his throat when you don’t listen. He can’t stop his hips from bucking up into your mouth, the sensation of your tongue swirling around the tip all too much for him. He’s close, and you know that, feeling his balls twitching under your chin– and perfect, because that’s exactly what you want. So you keep at it, watching him writhe and pant and seize up with his head thrown back and his eyes cross when he cums down your throat. It’s sticky and a little bitter from the alcohol, but you don’t mind it at all, because you’ve been craving this feeling since you woke up. You suck, and suck, and keep sucking him, milking every little bit that you can.

He’s a whimpering mess now, his other hand grabbing you by the hair to attempt to pull you off his cock.

“Love, love, please– please stop, I’m done, I can’t–” but that gets cut off by another moan, his knees shaking and bottoming out underneath you as your hands work his cock from base to tip, using spit and cum as lube.

He’s never seen you like this before, so needy, so pushy for it– whatever it, was. In a moment of clarity as your hands lift on the pressure to his cock, he reads the word on your forehead again. Cumslut.

He puts two and two together in the middle of a desperate whimper, throwing his head to the side as the pleasure in his overstimulated dick multiplies. On the nightstand was the marker that Scanlan used, capped and sitting neatly by his nightlight. Grabbing it off the table, he managed what he could with you turning him into putty from the waist down, grabbing one of your hands that you were using to support your weight scribbling “obedient” into it the best he could.

Nothing different happened at first– you continued to milk him for all that he was worth, and Percy couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he felt the familiar coil in the abdomen forming, ready to snap. “Hah- hah, hmpfh, s-stop, love, h-hang on–” he begs of you, and for the first time in the night, you oblige, hands and mouth lifting off his cock with the nasty squelch.

He looks at you, panting, undignified drool at the edge of your lips, and he slips a finger over it and wipes it away. Catching his breath, he dedicates a moment to taking you in; needy, glazed-over cum-hungry eyes as his cock rests on your cheek, tousled hair, plump, shiny lips coated in a thin sheen of spit and semen, the white of your teeth poking out from under. You looked gorgeous for him like that, and he let you know by pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You want my cum that badly, is that right?” he says, tentative at first. But you nod, rather vigorously, at that. It flips some sort of switch inside of him, and you feel him pull you by the hair, your own whimper leaving your throat as he exposes your throat to him.

“A little cumslut wants her holes filled. What a sight,” he taunts, a wicked smirk brewing at the corners of his lips. The way he looks at you runs a chill down your spine– it was the way he looked at something he wanted, no, needed, to be under his control.

And you were more than ready to give that.

“Be a good girl, then. Get on with it. On your hands and knees, on the floor,” he commands you, nodding towards the wood floor you have next to the bed. You glance down and back at him, and he’s watching you expectantly. Heat rising to your own cheeks, you shuffle down, assuming position on all fours as he requested.

You hear him shifting off the bed, stalking behind you– you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and then– a searing burn on your knees as you’re re-oriented, looking up to see the closet mirror and yourself staring back at you, cumslut written over your forehead. And dauntingly, above and behind you, stood Percy.

You’re naked, because you woke up earlier and tried to satisfy your urges by touching yourself, which, went nowhere, clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this cum-drunk state– but he is clothed; well, partially clothed, his sleeping robe untied and hanging off his shoulders. He knees behind you, secures your ankles to the ground with the weight of his calves and body, and sinks his fingers into your sides.

“Spread your pussy for me.”

Your eyes go wide, thundering in your chest. He notices your hesitation, and grabs a fistful of hair and pulls you towards him.

“I said, spread your pussy for me. Do I need to repeat myself?”

Some sort of noise comes out of you that sounds vaguely like a whimper and a “yes, sir,” as you take your hands and grab your ass to satisfy his request. You feel a bubbling of dopamine in your chest when you obey him, and it feels good, addictive, almost.

When you feel the weight of his cock pressed against your entrance, your body instinctively gravitates towards him, craving to be filled. But you feel his weight pull away, teasing it along your slit as he leans over to your ear.

“Be patient, love. Just enjoy it, I’ll do the work, my little cumslut. You’re such a needy little breeding whore, aren’t you?”

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serendipityrogers · 1 year

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Hello! I couldn’t help but see your post about writing for COD men! If so, could you please do one that’s Price x reader where she takes a bullet for him? Angst and Fluff. Typical scenario I know, but there’s never enough Price. If that doesn’t work that’s okay too! Thank you!!

Desk Duty

pairing: john price x female!reader

word count: around 2.1k

content warnings: canon-level violence, injured!reader, mentions of someone getting shot, mentions of gun-shot wound, medical talk, kissing an authority figure.

an: hello! first off, thank you anon for this lovely request, hopefully you enjoy it, i am a bit rusty bc i have not written in forever. second off, to address the elephant in the room, i know this isn't marvel related, but i'm really into call of duty right now, and wanted to write for them instead. third of all, if you liked this piece, and want to request your own, my request are open! i am really only writing for cod men right now and maybe some select marvel people. thanks guys!!!!

You never understood the saying “It happened in slow motion.”

This was real life, nothing happened in slow motion, that was physically impossible.

Or so you thought.

All five of you were pinned down, trapped in a warehouse, taking massive amounts of fire. The enemy was closing in fast, and you were vastly outnumbered. It was the five of you, and a couple Marines, that’s it. This was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill mission, no one expected it to go sideways. Especially not this bad.

“Low on ammo, Captain!” Gaz yelled, tossing an empty magazine behind him. “Conserve. Wait till they get closer!” Price barked back. “Where is air support, sir?” You asked, as the both of you crouched down to reload. “Five minutes out, we just need to make it till then.” He explained, popping back up and firing towards the building across the way. Five minutes was a long time in combat, almost too long.

When you had this much adrenaline pumping through your body, it was natural to get tunnel vision. Only able to focus on the thing standing right in front of you, and at the moment that was about twenty enemy soldiers. Except, they weren’t all in front of you. They were obviously more well-versed in the area than you guys were, so they knew about a door to the warehouse you didn’t.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw the sudden flood of light come from the door being ripped open. That’s when everything slowed way down. Three of them rushed inside, you were able to drop the first two, but the third one was too quick. And when his eyes landed on Price who was still facing towards the opposing building, you panicked. So, you did the first thing you could think of.

Grabbing your Captain’s ‘oh shit’ strap on the back of his plate carrier, you pulled him to the ground and out of the line of fire. As you kneeled beside Price, the enemy’s gun repositioned on you and before you had time to raise your own weapon again, he fired. The bullet connected, causing you to fall back against the cold concrete. Just as quickly as you fell, you watched the enemy’s body fall to the same concrete. Price let two bullets rip, one into his leg and the other into his skull. You stared up at the ceiling, clutching your wound, trying to apply pressure.

“Monarch is down!”

You woke up in the hospital two days later.

Apparently you passed out from blood loss.

It had been a tricky wound to treat in the field, so you had to wait for the air support to show up.

It was difficult for you to remember everything leading up to you being injured. You don’t remember the actual impact or being carried to the helo. It was all hazy. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost had gone over the incident with you many times, but it just never really came back to you. Not that you were complaining. No one wants to remember getting shot.

After a week and a half in the hospital, a month of physical therapy, and another month of training and sparring with your teammates to get you back in shape, you were finally cleared for the field. It was a miracle that you were able to bounce back this fast, it usually took many months to recover fully from an injury like that, but you liked to think it was solely because of how stubborn you were.

Everyone was super happy to have you back. Well, almost. There was only one more step you had to do: submit your medical release form to Price and have him approve it. You had only seen the Captain a few times, in passing, since the incident. It felt like he was avoiding you entirely, but you chalked it up to all the paperwork he was probably buried under right now, especially when a mission went that far south.

You walked down the familiar hallway, Price's office was at the very end. Nervousness flooded your body with every step you took. What could you possibly be nervous about? Was it because you were afraid to face him for the first time in over two months? Of course not, he was the same Price he was during that mission. Were you nervous he wasn’t going to approve you for medical release? No, he had to approve it, hell, you saved his damn life.

As you approached the door, you took a deep breath. You noticed a shake in your hand as you brought it up to knock on the door. Three loud racks echoed down the hallway. “Come in.” He called from the otherside of the door. You gripped the doorknob, turning it and pushed the door open with your shoulder. Price, as you suspected, was looking over a mountain of paperwork. His signature cap was discarded, and he was dressed in civilian clothes. He was in on his day off.

“Hello.” You greeted him, closing the door behind you. “Sergeant.” A man of few words, as always, but his tone seemed different. “I hate to do this, but I have some more paperwork for you.” You said with an awkward chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s my medical release form.” You added.

“Set it there.” He pointed to the only clear space on his desk. His words sounded cold. After placing down the documents, you stood there for a few more seconds, seeing if he would say anything else. You know, ask how you were doing, or something, literally anything. But to no avail.

So, you turned on your heels to walk out without another word. As you touched the doorknob, Price cleared his throat to speak, spiking some hope into your heart. “I’m putting you on desk duty.” Almost instantly, your stomach dropped past your toes. He said it so monotoned, no ounce of emotion in his voice.

For a few moments you were stunned, left speechless. But once that initial shock wore off, anger began to bubble up in your chest. You could feel the warmth overtaking every inch of your body and your chest began rising and falling irregularly.

“W-What? But I’ve been cleared for the field.” You tried to keep your tone even, unwavering as you slowly turned around to face him. He had finally looked up, head propped up on his palm. Like his tone, there was no legible emotion on his face. No anger, sadness, or guilt. “Desk duty until further notice.” This time it sounded dismissive, like the conversation was over. What is said is done. Clicking his pen twice, his eyes landed back on the report in front of him.

“This is bullshit!” The words climbed up your throat before you could stop them. You could feel your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. Your words caught the Captain off guard, but he only showed it for a moment. Not once had you ever questioned Price, or his intentions. But this time was different, if he thought you were gonna take this lying down, he was dead wrong.

“I’d watch your tone, Sergeant.” He spoke at you more sternly than before, clearly agitated by your outburst. And what he said next only added insult to injury, literally, “After that stunt you pulled, you’re lucky I don’t reassign you.” He used his pen to point at you, reaffirming his statement. That’s when all the logic and camaraderie flew out the window.

“You mean the one where I saved your life?” You spoke with malice, like venom was dripping off your tongue. “God forbid, I interfere with you taking a bullet to the skull.” You scoffed. “Is that the stunt you’re referring to?” You mocked him, echoing the term ‘stunt,.' You were trying to get under his skin, whether you knew that at the moment or not.

The Captain was boiling, you could practically see the steam coming from his ears. As you open your mouth to further instigate the situation, he slams his fists down on his desk. He stands up quickly, his chair tumbled to the ground behind him. “Exactly that stunt!” He barks. You’re the one caught off guard this time. It was rare for the Captain to raise his voice outside the field. Especially to you.

“You could have got yourself killed, soldier!” It only takes him a few steps to be in your face. You hold your ground even though you're terrified, you had never seen Price like this. “It’s in the job description, sir.” You rebutted between your teeth, adding the ‘sir’ to irk him more. It worked. “You were careless and clearly have no regard for your own life. You are a risk.” He spat.

“I’d die for you, Captain. No if, ands, or buts, about it.” You said with a straight face. “ So, if that categorizes me as a ‘risk,’ so be it.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it, and you noticed. “Say it, Captain. You never have been one to hold his words back.” You pushed him, feeding on his anger.

But all that anger seemed to be disintegrating. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. Like your words flipped a switch inside him. He had this look on his face, like he was truly debating on his next words. “Say. It.” You demanded, necking craning upwards to look him in the eyes. His eyes fell closed, and a defeated huff passed his lips.

“Having your blood on my hands is something I can’t handle…” His voice was hushed, and now his eyes refused to meet yours. That was the last thing you expected him to say. He has always kind of coddled you, he was very protective. You always thought maybe it was because you were the newest member of the Task Force, but now you’re thinking it’s for another reason.

“W-What do you mean?” You asked, your mind went blank. All that anger was now mixed with a good dose of confusion. He didn’t speak, just ran his fingers through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. “Captain, look at me.” You uttered softly, and he didn’t listen. You’re not sure what overtook you in the moment, but your shaky hand reached towards his face.

“Please.” You begged, gripping his chin and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t pull away, you brought his face closer, your noses only inches apart. His eyes did finally flutter open, and you were greeted with a stoic, immersive shade of blue, you couldn’t look away.

“Captain, I–” He didn’t let you finish your thought, cutting you off by leaning in closer, pressing his lips against yours. They were soft, softer than you ever imagined. Especially compared to the coarse hair of his mustache and beard against your face. You even picked up on the taste of smoke, he had smoked one of his cigars recently.

All you could focus on at that moment was him. The way he placed your hands against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. It was racing, ramming against the inside of his chest.

How his rough, calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, further melding your lips together. The way he handled you said a lot. He kissed you like he was in distress, barely giving you time to breathe between the last and next kiss, not that you were doing much breathing anyways. He made your body feel like jelly, your knees barely able to carry your body weight, so you gripped his t-shirt, tight, trying to steady yourself.

When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours. There was no talking, just heavy pants coming from the both of you. Did that really just happen? Was this a joke? You wanted to pinch yourself, wake yourself up from this dream. That’s when he spoke, breaking the silence, “‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He apologized, trying to create more distance between the two of you.

Luckily, you still had a hold of his shirt, stopping him. “Respectfully, Captain, shut up.” You chuckled, which earned a small smile from him as well. “Is this why you avoided me for two and a half months?” You asked, snaking your arms around his neck. “If you think I’ve only had these feelings for you for two and a half months, you're more delusional than I thought, Sergeant.” He chuckled this time, placing his hands on your hips.

“So, the real question is, am I still on desk duty?”

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rogersideup · 10 months

Text

Nice to be Kneaded

Doomsday

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: The Brewing Storm Next Part: The Snap

Word Count 6,509

My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The aggravatingly annoying sound of your 4 am alarm rang and vibrated, causing an echo underneath Steve's pillow. As always, he reached over your peacefully sleeping form to turn it off and take the brunt of being the bearer of bad news to wake you up in a far more favorable situation than obnoxious ringing and loud buzzing.

He kept your phone right next to him knowing damn well you had another alarm set for 4:10, it made him smile every single morning when he'd wake you up and you'd ask for 10 more minutes of cuddles without fail.

Today was no different.

"Baby" Steve mumbled, rubbing your back with some pressure. Half your face was smooshed against his shoulder, your leg was thrown across his hips and your arm rested on his torso, hand gently splayed atop his chest. "Time to wake up, sweetie."

Instead of simply letting him know you were awake, you reached your hand up and covered his mouth. His beard tickled your palm and you could feel him smiling.

"Shhhhhh" You smiled at his giggles. "Don't be an asshole. You already know what I want."

"10 more minutes?" Steve asked, his big hand wrapping around your wrist to move your hand off his mouth and right over his heart.

"Eleven" You settled deeper into him, as close as you could possibly get. His hand rested on the top of your hip and squeezed you comfortably tight.

A few kisses were placed at the crown of your head, and although you were absolutely not ready to be alert and take on the day, something in you really just wanted to take in the moment and appreciate the warmth and comfort of your favorite boy in your bed. So for ten whole minutes, you laid there in a blissful embrace hoping it would never end.

But when the second alarm sounded and Steve quickly shut it off, you let out a puff in complaint. "There's no way that was 10 minutes, I want 5 more."

"We're always going to want just a few more minutes." Steve swiped the hair away from your face, and gave you another kiss on your head.

"This is so unfair." You complained, digging your whole face into his chest. "Whoever schedules me for mornings is such a bitch."

"Hey!" He gasped. "I happen to know the girl who keeps doing that to you, and I don't appreciate you talking about her that way!"

"The most tragic story ever told is the one of a girl who is so warm and so cozy in bed, snuggled up to the hottest man in the world, but she has to get up and go to work even though it's cold outside and she's still so warm and sleepy"

"In the WORLD?!" Steve exclaimed, sounding more awake now.

"Universe" You smiled, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"Wow" He marveled. "Have you ever seen Thor?"

You laughed at his question, then leaned over him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "You're even better than Thor." You whispered, lips still grazing his.

"Now you're just lying." Steve smiled. "But thank you for trying."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Baby, and it just so happens to be you I'm looking at."

"You're too kind, Beautiful." Steve shook his head. "Are you sure you have to go to work?"

"Yeah, I'm positive." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"You just said it was a tragedy to leave this warm cozy bed when you're so, so sleepy." He recalled. "It's my job to save people from tragedy, you know that. So I think you should stay."

"I wish I could." Something in you really wanted to just call out for the day and never leave the bed. But, you chalked it up to sleepy brain manipulation. "When I get home, we're getting right back in bed."

"What time will you be back?"

"Hopefully around 2"

"Sounds like a perfect nap time to me."

One last kiss, then you were on your feet to start the day, leaving Steve at your house to do whatever Steves do when you aren't there to see it.

Work was actually alright. It was always alright. Even on the bad days you liked being there, it was comfortable, easy, and there was always good company. Each of your employees felt like they were your friends, and you had hung out with every single one of them outside of work so you definitely knew they didn't just like you because you signed their paychecks. Each one was a hard worker and a team player, you cared a lot about them.

It was pretty standard and routine quite honestly. You baked, opened the store, worked the front through morning rush then made your way to the back for decorating when the crowd had settled down.

"Oh fuck!" The screeching of Sabrina, one of your decorators filled your ears followed by the laughter of almost everyone on the kitchen. "Noooooo!!"

"Your shoes!" Danielle, a baker, barked out while laughing.

"It keeps keeps getting worse!"

You looked over at the chaos just to see Sabrina standing at the icing station with a bursted open tip-less piping bag that has splattered neon pink royal icing all over the place. It covered her apron, oozed down her hand, slowly dripped down onto her white shoes, and splatters of it were along the table and wall.

"Oh my goodness" You immediately joined in on the laughter. "How did that even happen?!"

"I don't know! I was just tying the end and all the sudden it exploded!" Sabrina explained, holding the dripping bag over the table to make for easier clean up, joining in on the laughter.

"Let me help you" You continued laughing as you grabbed paper towels and started wiping her down.

You bent down to salvage her shoes as much as you could but all of the sudden you felt a drop on your forehead, then two, then three...

"Sabs!" Danielle called out. "Her head!"

When you realized the hot pink icing had starting dripping onto your forehead it caused for even louder laughter. Everyone else laughing drove you to laugh even harder until you lost balance and fell straight onto your butt which in turn made everyone laugh so hard they couldn't even breathe.

The chaos was loud enough to cause the barista in the front to pop her head back to see what was going on before mumbling "I'm not even going to deal with this right now."

Every muscle in your stomach was sore and a tear was rolling down your cheek by the time you managed to calm yourself down, actually getting up to wipe her shoes off.

When you finished, she tried cleaning herself up the best she could in the sink before laughing once more. "You know what? I think I'm just going to go on break to deal with this"

"I think that's a great idea" You giggled, wiping down the counter and wall. "Take a 20, give me your apron I'll get you a clean one."

She took her apron off and handed it to you before disappearing into the bathroom. An occasional giggle slipped passed you and Danielle's lips as the thought of what happened replayed in your minds like a broken record.

She emerged from the bathroom about 5 minutes later, and walked up to you to wipe pink icing that you had missed off your forehead.

"Gosh- it's like pepto bismol came on your face" Sabrina commented, wiping away.

"Hmmm what a lovely thought" You giggled, deep down it made you happy that your employees felt comfortable enough around you to make comments like that.

One of your main goals of opening Nice to be Kneaded was to create an ethical and happy work environment, and so far it seemed like you were doing something right.

"Okay, you're good." Sabrina let you know, tossing the paper towel in the trash.

"Shall I mix you more color?" You questioned as she pulled her phone out and sat at the break table.

"Yes please, I need about 2 bags full of pepto bismol cu- oh my god" Her eyes went wide and filled with fear as she looked down at her phone.

"Now what?" Danielle questioned.

Sabrina's eyebrow furrowed and she mumbled to herself reading headlines for a few moments before reading one out loud.

"There's a giant space ship in New York" Sabrina looked up at the two of you. "Live streams Everywhere of this huge fight happening. Iron-Man, Doctor Strange, Spider-Man... they're fighting these weird alien looking people. Oh..OH. Bruce Banner is there too."

You physically had to clutch onto the edges of the countertop as Steve's words played in your head. The storm was no longer brewing, it was directly overhead.

"Does anyone know why?" You questioned, trying to play it cool, feeling the electricity buzz around in your joints.

"They want the time stone."

That was all you needed to know that today was doomsday, the day you and Steve had been dreading since the moment you met. You wanted to cry, but you held it together knowing there were steps you needed to take.

First, you needed to make sure everyone was safe. Second, you needed to hear it from Steve's mouth.

You didn't know what to do in order to make sure everyone was safe in the first place, but Steve would. Steve just somehow knew how to make everything better.

"I'll be right back." You stated before rushing out of the back door. As you reached for the phone in your pocket, it started ringing. You didn't even need to look at the name to know who it was.

"Baby" You started, fear taking over your whole body. "You were right. This whole time you were right."

"Sunflower, you need to send everyone home." Steve instructed. "The whole country is about to be put on a stay at home order. Close the shop and get home."

"Okay" You breathed out. "How much time do we have?"

"Sam and Natasha are on their way to me. It'll be a few hours at least" Steve explained. "But please, get home as fast as you can."

"I will, I'll close up as fast as I possibly can. Give me 20 minutes, I'll be home." You nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You could hear the reassurance in his voice. "Just- be safe okay? We'll talk about it more when you get home."

"Okay, bye baby"

"See you soon, sweetheart."

You hung up feeling terrified, flustered, and awfully sad, but knew you needed to be brave long enough to close up shop and get home.

After making your way back into the kitchen, you walked up to the front and called all your employees to the back for a team meeting. They were all confused, but had a good idea considering they were asking questions about the donut shaped ship over New York.

You instructed them to kick all the customers out and turn off all the ovens. Throw any dirty dishes in the sink but don't wash them, take home any of the pastries in the front then toss anything that wasn't wanted, then get out as fast as they could. They all needed very little explanation to understand why this needed to be done, but they understood.

So, you helped. You boxed up a bunch of desserts to bring home to feed to a few Avengers, checked that all the equipment was turned off, assisted in shutting blinds and locking doors, then you were in your car and pulling into your driveway before you even knew it.

Steve heard your car and popped out of his front door to guide you to his house. You briskly walked over and he held the door open for you, you set the box of pastries down on the entry way table before he pulled you in for a big hug.

You didn't know what to say or do, there were no words you could think of to address the situation, you didn't know how to comfort a superhero looking into the eyes of a dangerous battle, you didn't know how to start the end of your journey together. You didn't even know if you could hold it together.

In the back of your mind, you were worried that this was going to push him over the edge into an anxious spiral. Slightly worried he would have a catastrophic panic attack over this very moment he had been dreading since the moment his feet touched Greenwood soil. But you could tell just in the way he was holding himself that this was nothing but a huge relief.

Just how you could tell he felt relief over this painful journey in his life coming to an end, he could tell you were trying really hard to be brave. But he didn't miss the way you were ever so slightly trembling, the way your arms held him so tight, or the deep inhales as your face nestled into his chest. You were trying to take in every second, you were already saying goodbye.

"I'm sorry" Steve broke the silence. "I was really hoping this would happen more peacefully."

"It's okay, not your fault" Your hands rested on his shoulder blades, the two of you slowly rocking back and forth. "Just worried about you and what this all means."

"You don't have to worry about me, baby. I'll be okay. Actually, you don't have to worry about anything, alright? We're going to make sure you stay safe." He kissed the top of your forehead.

"But what about you? What's going to happen?" Your lip trembled as you asked.

You missed the pout in his face as he heard your emotions starting to unravel, so his hands traveled up to the sides of your face to make sure you believed him. "I've done this so many times, okay? You don't have to be scared, I'll be fine."

A single tear fell down your cheek, and he gently swiped it away with his thumb. "What about the accords? What if you guys can't do what you need to do because of it?"

"It doesn't matter" Steve shook his head, still holding your face gently between his palms. "This is exactly why I didn't want them in the first place. Because what's happening right now is bigger than anything that can be governed, and we have to choose to not care just to keep everyone safe. I'll break any law over and over again if I have to."

"You said Sam and Natasha are coming here?" You asked.

"Yeah, Bruce called me from Tony's phone." Steve nodded. "Sam, Nat and I are meeting up here than we'll be going to Edinburgh to get Wanda and Vision, then bring them back to the Avengers compound in New York to protect the stone in Vision's head."

"Will I meet them?"

"Yeah" Steve chuckled at your question. "Sam will be here in about two hours, Natasha will be here later tonight. But they know all about you, I think they're excited to meet a friendly face. We aren't very used to that in recent times."

"I'm so nervous" You laughed at yourself, another tear rolling down your cheek.

Steve smiled before kissing you. "There's no need to be nervous about them. I think they already love you."

You took a big deep breath before sighing. "So, we have two hours to get all of our ducks in a line."

"Unfortunately" Steve agreed, letting go of your face and held your hands instead.

"What do you need to feel good about what you're getting yourself into? I have no idea where to even start to support you through this."

"You're so sweet" Steve smiled, little lines bunching up near his eyes. "Well I promised we'd get back in bed when you got home from work so how about we go cuddle and watch Cars 3 while I fill you in on everything you need to know?"

You nodded in agreement but before you even knew it, he had swept you off your feet earning him a shriek followed by complaints guised by giggles.

The two of you got settled, his back against the headboard and you sideways in his lap as he walked you though what you can expect now. Your slow tears continued to involuntarily fall, and every single one was gently wiped away by his hands.

He explained to you that he went ahead and payed a whole year of rent on his place so he could come back and move his stuff when he could as to not burden anyone else with the task. That alone made you smile, it was at least one promise of another time in the future where he'd have to step foot back in Greenwood again. He was leaving you with the copy of his keys you already had. You promised him you'd do a little walk through whenever you could to make sure everything inside was how it should be, but you didn't know if in the midst of heartbreak it would be a good or bad thing to be surrounded by all his stuff.

But that was a future problem for future you.

Then, he started filling you in on Captain America stuff.

"So when Sam gets here, it'll just be this... but...with Sam." Steve explained, laughing at his own means of explanation.

"Baby I don't think there's enough room on this bed for Sam." You laughed with him, trying to contain your sniffles. "Are you the middle spoon in this situation?"

"I'm always Sam and Nat's middle spoon" Steve chuckled. "But don't worry, we can move down to the couch. And when Nat gets here, she's going to land the Jet in the field, then walk over. We'll strategize for a bit then head out from there."

"...I'm sorry. The JET?" You questioned. "The field? As in...."

"Our favorite one by the park? Yeah." Steve confirmed. "We gotta get to Germany somehow"

"I guess that makes sense." You nodded.

"So Sam will be in civilian clothes when he gets here and change before we leave, but Nat will get here in her suit and likely have her batons on her." He continued explaining. "I'm just trying to prepare you because I know the suits kind've freak people out sometimes, it's-"

"Intimidating" You finished for him.

"I'll also be changing into my suit before we go."

You stopped to think about that for a second, and the thoughts must I've been evident on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, noting your furrowed eyebrows.

"I don't know, I guess I just realized you're Captain America and you have a superhero suit." You said, earning more laughs from Steve.

"Oh, well, welcome to this conversation!" He joked.

"You've had it here this whole time?" You asked.

"Yeah, it's in my closet" Steve motioned towards the closet door.

"Huh" You pondered. "You have your shield here?"

"No" He shook his head, remorse plaguing his tone. "Tony has it, I gave it back to him. His father made it for me."

"Do you miss it?" You asked.

"Not yet" His hand squeezed your arm comfortably. "Maybe that'll change after a fight or two"

You nodded in understanding, then let your head fall onto his shoulder. "I mean this in the least offensive way I possibly could, but I'm really glad I got to know you under a circumstance in which you being Captain America was the least interesting part about you."

Steve digested what you said, and thought about it for a moment. "You know what? Me too."

"Yeah? Does Cap have trouble in the dating department?" You questioned with a cheeky smile. "Cause I'd only imagine he has a long line of pretty girls and guys waiting for a moment to snatch him up."

"First of all, that long line you're talking about has always been a lot shorter than everyone makes it out to be." He corrected, wagging his finger around. "And secondly, considering my public reputation has quite literally never been this awful, it's just been really nice to have you by my side through all of it. I've never really had to question if you were in it for the right reasons considering there wasn't much going on for me in the first place."

"If I knew right off the bat I would've been way too nervous to talk to you" You admitted.

"You? Too shy? No way." Steve denied your statement.

"Shit, if you weren't a customer and I just saw you out and about I would've been too shy to talk to you" You blushed at your confession. "You're just so handsome."

"You're too pretty to be intimidated by handsome guys" Steve complemented, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Well it doesn't matter anymore because you're the only one I want" You sniffled, lip wobbling again and another tear spilling over the edge. "I don't want you to go."

Steve squeezed you tight and placed kisses all over your forehead. "I wish I didn't have to, baby. But this isn't the last time we'll see each other, okay? I'll do everything I can to make it back here the second I can. But first I just need to make sure everything is okay and everyone is safe, and I need to make sure you aren't going to get in trouble for this."

"I know we haven't put any labels on this to make this moment easier, but just know that you are the best whatever this is I've ever had." You used the back of your hand to wipe more rogue tears. "Thank you for being such an amazing guy, and sorry I'm crying. I tried for a long time to be really brave about this but it's just not working."

"It's okay to cry, you're very brave. The bravest girl I know." Steve reassured you. With two fingers below your jaw, he lifted your face and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "You know I love you?"

You couldn't help but to giggle at his question, before placing your lips against his once more. "It's painfully obvious, Stevie."

"I thought so" He narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, smile poking through his lips formed in a tight line.

"I think it's painfully obvious that I love you too." You couldn't wipe the smile off of your face regardless of never having experienced something so bitter sweet before.

"Yeah" Steve agreed. "I already knew that."

"Great, glad we're on the same page." You settled deeply into him, as if crawling into his skin still wouldn't be close enough.

The two of you stayed cuddled up as close as you physically could until the very second the universe told you that your time alone together was over. Eventually your tears dried and the two of you enjoyed the moment the best you could and for exactly what it was. Decelerations of love, and more than comfortable silence through rapid fire thoughts in each of your brain all felt the same.

Static in your joints, grey clouds rolling in. Each moment they rolled in closer and closer to shower the two of you in heartbreak and worry.

The lightning touched down in the form of a text from Sam saying he was five minutes out, and the thunder roared loudly as a knock at the door four minutes later.

It was weird for Steve to be trapped in the middle of undeniable sadness, yet relief and absolute joy over being reconnected with his best friend under such a stressful circumstance. He opened the door with a big smile on his face, you nervously hiding behind his large frame like a shy child at a birthday party. But after a reunion in the entryway and an introduction in the living room, everything Steve predicted about the interaction proved to be true.

Sam was excited to meet his precious Sunflower, and you quickly came out of your shell not too long after meeting him. He was a charismatic guy, and you were so lovable and easy to get along with. Steve knew there was practically zero margin for error in this equation.

At some point while waiting for Natasha's arrival, Steve stepped away from the living room for a few minutes to take a phone call from her, and when he got back, you and Sam were laughing up a whole different storm.

And when Natasha arrived, it was the same result. If it weren't for the upcoming battle and separation dangling over their heads, Steve would've felt happily and wholly complete.

As they sat and strategized, it was nearing midnight. Words you couldn't even comprehend were flying out of their mouths about situations you couldn't even begin to imagine being in the center of. It was rapidly approaching the 24 hour mark since you've been awake, and although your brain was fighting so hard to get you to sleep, there was so much worry happening in it. Worry and exhaustion fought for dominance as you slowly let your head fall onto Steve's shoulder while trying your hardest to absorb all the information they were spewing.

It was really none of your business, and frankly, it didn't effect you one bit, but hearing their strategies, and just knowing they had a solid plan with lots of alternative choices eased up the frantic energy in your mind.

You missed the glances exchanged around the room when Steve's arm found it's way around your shoulders as he spoke. No matter how exhausted you were, you managed to stay awake until the words you dreaded hearing slipped off of Nat's tongue.

"Alright, boys. Suit up." She told them, getting up off the couch. "I'll go do one last supply pass of the Jet."

And just like that, she was out of the door and Sam was headed towards his bag in the entryway.

Steve kissed your forehead, but it felt like an apology as he unwrapped his arm from around you and stood up. Then, he kissed your lips before jogging up the stairs to his bedroom to change. Sam had also run off somewhere, leaving you alone on the couch for the emotions to flood once more.

Waiting on the couch felt an awful lot like a glimpse into the near future, just sitting by your lonesome, sad, worried, waiting for your love to return. Your heart thunked with pressure and stamina knowing when he came back down, he would be in the iconic suit you grew up learning about in grade school.

He would no longer be your little slice of sweetness, your secret fling with the boy next door. No longer your fugitive to hide away and love secretly between four walls.

Heavy footsteps came back down those stairs and out came Captain America. The superhero, the great, classic icon shared by the whole country.

It was a lot to take in at first, you didn't know how to process the harsh reality right in front of you. Especially since the entire time you've known Steve, the idea of Captain America just felt like the same daydream at an arms length away as it had felt like to you your entire life.

And now, he was right in front of you. Uniform tattered and torn in some places, evident of the hard time Steve had endured during his time in hiding, but the star was still proudly displayed across his chest, and tiny hints of red white and blue persisted through the grey that stained the uniform.

Steve could see how busy your mind was, and the tears welling back up in your eyes. So he walked up to you hand held out his gloved hands for you to take, and when you placed them in his, he pulled you up off the couch.

Once you were standing, your hands made it up to his chest, then dragged down out of curiosity for the suit. Feeling it beneath your fingers was a whole new level of surreal.

"You look damn good in that uniform, Honey" You complemented.

He wrapped you up in a hug, and held you tight with his head on top of yours, desperately trying not to cry. "I wish you would've never had to see me in it"

"The world needs you now." You reminded him. "I'm sad to see you go, but I'm also very proud of you for making it through this, and I'm really happy that you get a chance to prove the accords wrong."

"I couldn't have done any of this without you" He admitted. "Thank you for everything"

Just as your tears started falling again, a flashing light and the sound of a shutter made both of your heads snap to the source of the sound only to find Sam, standing with his phone pointed at the two of you.

"Sam" Steve warned, not amused by the interruption.

"Sorry, it's just too cute" He gushed. "I had to take a picture so it would last longer."

"Sam..." Steve warned again.

"Okay, okay, I'll go." He slipped passed the two of you and headed towards the door. "It was nice meeting you, sugar cookie."

You laughed at the nickname he called you, but you didn't have to see Steve's face to know he was rolling his eyes. "Good luck out there, stay safe."

"Will do. Steve, wheels up in five." Sam reminded him before walking out of the house for the last time.

"I can't cry because I'm on duty now" Steve giggled at himself. "So don't make me cry."

"Well I'm certainly not trying to" You smiled.

Steve let go of the hug and wiped the tears of your face as you sniffled and pulled something out of your back pocket.

Lifting your hand up, a crisp $20 was folded up between your fingers. Then, you slipped it into the first pocket of his suit that looked empty to you. "That's your good luck charm."

"You're so stubborn" Steve blinked back the tears welling in his eyes.

"I told you, I was always going to win this argument." You shook your head, hand resting over the star on his chest. "And whenever you find yourself back in Greenwood, you better leave all your money at home when you stop by the bakery."

Steve gently moved your hand off of the Star on his chest, then he looked down at it, and ripped it clean off his uniform. "My star, my heart, is always yours, my love."

He placed it in your hand, and your tears fell harder. "You can just do that? You don't need it?"

"Yes, and no." Steve told you. "I don't work for anyone anymore, if they want me in red white and blue with a star on my chest, they better love me as much as you do."

"I love you so much" you cried.

"I know you do" Steve grinned. "I love you too, so so much."

Both his hands gently cupped your cheeks, and you two shared a long kiss worth every single word the two of you didn't have time to share.

"Do you want to stay here or can I walk you home?" Steve questioned sympathetically.

"It's okay, I'll stay and lock up- gotta make sure everything is good to be left alone for a while." You reassured him.

"Is that code for you're going to take some of my stuff?" Steve asked, smiling despite his sadness.

"All of your jackets and cute shirts are mine now" You whispered.

"You deserve them" Steve laughed. "They're all yours."

You sighed and looked up into his pretty, sad blue eyes. "You should probably get out of here."

"I know" he agreed with a nod. "I've spent the last almost two years of my life wishing and hoping for the moment I could step out to hiding and live my life again, but now I wish we had more time and that I'd never have to leave ."

"We're always going to wish we had a few more minutes" You repeated the same words he had spoken to you not even a full day ago. "Please stay safe, and if you can when all is said and done can you find a way to reach out just to let me know you're okay?"

"Of course" Sadness and sincerity pinching his brows together, "You stay safe too, okay? Stay out of trouble. I don't want to hear about anymore fugitives in the bakery."

"Don't worry, honey. You're the only fugitive I know, and I plan on keeping it that way."

"Well, you just met Sam and Natasha, didn't you?" He joked. "Hopefully the next time I see you I won't be a fugitive anymore."

"I hope so too." You smiled, tears falling down your cheeks.

"I guess this is it" Steve sighed.

"I guess so" You agreed. "Did you get the quiet and simple stay you were hoping for in Greenwood?"

"You know what? This town turned out to be a whole lot more beautiful and exciting than I could've ever hoped it would be." He admitted.

"I'm glad" You cried. "Now go save the world, Captain."

"You got it, Sunflower."

"I love you"

"I love you too"

One last kiss, then he was gone in a blink.

The second you were positive he couldn't hear, your emotions became unraveled and you broke down into an uncontrollable sob. It wasn't for the tear ripping deeper and deeper into your heart the further away he got from you, but for him.

You felt that same sense of doom he explained to you many nights ago, and you had this feeling it wasn't all going to go to plan.

Your feet carried you outside to the front porch, where you clutched his star to your chest and sobbed while watching the jet fly overhead. Unfortunately the loud engine alerted the whole neighborhood of its presence, and most of your neighbors ended up on their porches as well.

They all looked up into the sky as it reached elevation and took off to Germany. The chattering voices of the familiar faces meant nothing to you, you weren't interested in their speculation, and the thought of the news stories to come about this whole debacle made you feel sick to your stomach.

You could already hear the rumors such a technologically advanced aircraft over Greenwood in the middle of the night would spark. Aliens, Avengers, foreign spies, Avengers fighting aliens and foreign spies.

One particular voice seemed to stand out more than the rest, especially as it got louder and called out the pet name you hadn't heard from it in a while.

"Sweet cheeks?"

Looking across the street, Georgia and Michael standing on their porch. But instead of looking up at the sky, now only full of twinkling stars, they were looking at you sobbing in front of Steve's house.

You couldn't face her. You didn't want to deal with her ill intentions, or her bad words towards Steve, you didn't want to come up with a story as to what he did to make you cry or why he was gone. You didn't want to explain the futuristic looking jet, you didn't want to let go of the star in your hand, you didn't even want to go back into Steve's house to see everything you had just lost.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She called out to you again, now walking down the steps of her porch to approach you.

Physically and mentally exhausted, you were truly incapable of dealing with any added layer of emotion to this already painful experience, so you closed Steve's door and locked it with your key. Then, as fast as you could, you walked across the driveway to yours.

"I'm sorry about what happened between us, but please, Sugar, just tell me what's wrong?" She pleaded but you continued to ignore it. "I'm worried about you. Did that boy hurt you?"

Your heart raced as you unlocked your front door while she quickly approached. You could feel the whole neighborhood's eyes on you now, so you made it inside before she could get to you and slammed the door a lot harder than you intended before locking it.

As if you were on autopilot, your feet carried you upstairs and into your bedroom where you put Steve's star on your bedside table. You ripped your clothes off as if it was urgent and dove into bed, grabbing onto and snuggling Steve's hoodie that he had left in your bed this morning.

With your whole body hidden under your blankets and Steve's hoodie acting as a teddy bear, you buried your face in it and cried to drown out the knocking coming from your front door downstairs.

Today was bad, and with this battle happening in real time, tomorrow was definitely uncertain. But you had been through a lot of heartbreak in your life, and you knew you'd wake up feeling a little better tomorrow, and every day after that. But just for now, you allowed yourself to cry over a tough goodbye.

Meanwhile, Steve boarded the jet without a single word to either of his friends as he made his way to the front to pilot. There was nothing but the sounds of humming from the engines and the clinks of the seat harnesses as they got safely strapped in.

Sam and Natasha were unsure of how to comfort him, they knew from experience and the tears he was blinking away from pooling in his big blue eyes that a quiet Steve was an upset Steve.

"She's great, Rogers. I really, really like her." Natasha gave him the approval he definitely wasn't seeking.

He gave one single nod in response as to not ignore her.

"Sugar cookie? She's sweeter than a slice of cake." Sam agreed.

"Pretty too" Nat wiggled her eyebrows at Sam.

"And the baking?! That's a package deal right there." Sam continued.

Steve was still silent, starting to rip at the seams but desperately trying to hold it together.

"Don't forget smart. A business owner- a successful business owner at that." Nat brought up. "She's set for good, holding it down nicely."

"Really level head on her shoulders, that's a wife, Steve." Sam reached forward to pat the top of Steve's arm with the back of his hand.

Nothing. He kept his face forward and eyes on the controls in front of him as they prepared for takeoff.

Sam and Nat exchanged worried glances before Nat who sat behind him, placed both her hands on his shoulders and gave them a nice squeeze.

"You doing okay, Steve?" She asked delicately.

"Let's just focus on the mission at hand."

Next Part: The Snap

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mcondance · 10 months

Text

“and i wish that i could be with you tonight, you give me butterflies”

butterflies — oj haywood

pairing oj haywood x Black!afab fem reader

contents slow burn, kinda, but not too much. little bit of angst and self doubt. canon-compliant except holst and jupe did not die, smut (unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), creampies, it gets rough for like one scene but nothing too crazy)

words 8.8k

notes handful of michael jackson references (like 3) so if you don't like michael kill yourself, oh also the title is from butterflies by michael too, this is a re-upload from my old blog!

The pictures of the horses are beautiful, but the horses themselves? They’re gorgeous. After seeing countless pictures of them and marveling at the still images, you ask Holst who’s horses they are, and if their owner would be okay with you popping up for just a second.

The drive is long as hell, some big ass ranch out in Agua Dulce, far from anything except for Jupe’s Theme Park. You make plans to visit one day. Today you’re on a mission to lay eyes on some of the most beautiful animals you’ve seen. Which is saying a lot, since you work with pictures of Holst’s animals all day.

The man that meets you at the ranch is.. not amused. In fact, he looks extremely annoyed. It seems like Holst is a liar.

“Who are you?” he asks, face scrunched up from the heat of the sun, hands on his hips, body language giving stand-offish. You give him your name and he barely acknowledges it. He would much rather know why you’re here and what you want.

“I, um, I work with Holst.” you say with a nervous smile, his displeasure at your unexpected and uninvited presence evident. “I just saw some pictures of the horses and I had to see them in person.”

Hearing your reasoning for basically trespassing on his ranch strikes a bit of a nerve in him. He’s never met someone who’s that interested in the horses. But he wants to get this over with quickly. He got shit to do, and you just interrupted the horses feeding time.

He turns, nods in a gesture that you take as him telling you to follow him, and walks off. You follow closely, but not too close. You don’t wanna seem like more of a weirdo than you’re sure you already do.

“You drove all the way out here just to see my horses?” he questions, leaning on the arena near a pretty brown horse as he waits for you to catch up.

“Yeah.” you nod. “I been seeing pictures of them for some months now and i just wanted to see them in person.”’

“Mhm.” he nods, reaching up to sift some dirt off of Lucky’s mane.

You step a little closer to the arena, and Oj figures you want to pet Lucky. “Come ‘ere.“ He nods his head again, this time gesturing you to follow him towards the horse. You do, falling into place beside him.

“Gimme your hand.” He reaches for you and meets you in the middle and places it on Lucky. His hair is soft and silky, hot from the California sun, and you can tell just from a feel that Oj takes good care of him, of all of his horses. He’s gentle with your hand, holds it and guides you. That makes heat rise in your cheeks, heat that’s definitely not caused by the sun beating down on you two.

Then Oj pulls his hand away from yours, casting his eyes over the expanse of land.

That breaks you out of your awe-induced stupor.

“I gotta get home.” you say, walking off before he gets the chance to say anything.

On the way home, you have flashes of the cowboy playing through your mind, the burning heat on your hand remaining from his touch, and a couple of butterflies find a hopefully temporary home in your stomach.

—

The next day, you come back.

You find him in the stables this time, throwing hay into the stalls.

Oj’s surprised. Usually, people pet the horses, hang around for a little while, and then lose interest.

“Hey, Oj.” you wave happily.

“Hey. You wanna help me feed them?” He assumes that you’d like to, since you’ve shown some interest in them. And of course you do.

It’s not easy, the bales of hay heavier than you anticipated. But you take the work in stride. It’s not too hard, not when you get to admire these beautiful animals and see how they work. And, to be honest, you like seeing how their owner works as well.

He’s so handsome, with his pretty brown skin, glistening with sweat, the image of a hard-working man. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how, but the cowboy thing is working for him and on you. He’s captivating, his dedication to his horses and his quiet demeanor working together to have you tripping over your words and feet around him.

You could blame it on the heat, or you could blame it on the feeling of his eyes on you the entire time. You’re sure he’s just trying to make sure you don’t fuck up his horses, but you can’t lie, it’s nice to feel for just a second that a man like this is interested in you.

When he asks how long you’ve been working for Holst, it’s like you completely forget the last 8 months of your life. You stutter over your words, and you’re quite literally confused on how you could stutter over two simple words. Still, you do, and you’re sure you just setback any progress you made in getting Oj to find you at all attractive and worth being around.

Because that’s the problem. That’s the dilemma. Here you have a man, who’s happiest in solitude and quiet, and here you are, talkative and loud, and you think you want him to want you. That’s the problem you have. And it’s a big, inescapable problem.

He tells you to hang back by the door of one stable while you’re thinking, telling you that this horse doesn’t take too kindly to strangers. That gives you another chance to really take him in.

He’s so goddamn attractive, and you’re so glad he’s so focused on the horse, because you’re shamelessly staring at his thighs, visibly thick through the denim of jeans. His chest is built; it’s visible under his shirt, too.

And the butterflies are there once again, accompanied by the heat encompassing your entire being.

It isn’t quite professional to be eyeing one of your coworker’s business partners like this, but you’re too caught up in your reverie to care.

And then Oj turns around, and you snap out of it as fast as you can. Not fast enough, you suppose, because he asks you if you’re okay when he makes it back over to you.

“You good?” he asks. “The heat is a lot. You can go if you’re getting too hot.”

“No, no, I’m good!” you nod, reassuring him through a heavy breath.

“You sure?” he pushes, eyes fixed on yours.

“Yeah.” you nod, but you’re not at all okay. He’s close enough that you can feel his warmth radiating off of him, and you have to suppress a chuckle at his previous choice of words. You are getting too hot.

It’s just.. with the way he towers over you, looking down at you under the brim of his hat, the way his pretty brown skin shines with sweat, the way he’s so fucking warm and his lips look so goddamn nice, you can barely focus on anything else. And the way he’s staring at you like he wants to do something more than stare has you questioning if Holst would be upset if you kissed his business partner after only knowing him for like 2 days.

A horse neighs. Oj backs up immediately. You have to go, have to get from around Oj before you do some reckless shit.

“That was the last horse, right?” you ask shakily, uneasiness leaking into your voice.

“Yeah.” he nods, hands on his hips, his stance driving you insane.

“I guess that’s my cue, then.” you respond, walking off before he can even fit another word in.

On the drive home, Oj’s the only thing on your mind.

—

Visiting the Haywood ranch this time is for two reasons.

One: you want to ride one of the horses.

And Two: Oj fucking Haywood.

This time, surprisingly, he isn’t outside with the horses. You hear music playing from the house, so you assume he’s in there. Before you can even knock, the door opens, and you’re met with the face of the man you think you’re developing feelings for.

“Hey.” he greets you.

“Hey!”

“If you wanted to feed them or something, it’s past their feeding ti-”

“No!” you cut him off before he can shut you down and send you home. “I was hoping you’d take me, uh, horse riding.” You say it like a question, eyes searching his face for any emotion, any answer to your question. The music playing is a glaring foil to your current feelings, smooth reggae contrasting with your hyper aware and scrambled mind. You don’t know how he does it.

“Yeah. I’ll take you horse riding.” he nods, stepping out of his house and closing the door. He clicks at you in that certain way, jerks his head in what you know to be directing you towards the horses.

“Which one?” he asks when you both make it to the stables.

“Lucky.” you answer. “I’ve liked him since I saw the pictures of him.” Once it leaves your mouth, you’re sure it sounds weird. But his reaction, a warm smile that seems genuine, tells you otherwise. Perhaps he’s growing as fond of you as you are of him.

After he saddles Lucky up, he calls you over to the horse.

“Okay, so I’m gonna help you up. You ready?” he asks, leaning down to cup his hands together. You nod, throwing one hand over Lucky and stepping into his hands. He boosts you up, and then he’s swinging up behind you, reaching around you to grab the reins.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Because you can feel him against you, and if you don’t hold on tight enough, you just might fall off the damn horse.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah.” you nod.

He takes you down through the gulch, takes you near Jupe’s Park and somewhere way behind the ranch. The sun is beating down on you two, but you know it isn’t the cause of what you feel.

The heat that has enveloped you is caused by Oj’s arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing every once in a while to guide Lucky. Caused by the way you can feel his chest pressed against you, firm and warm. The way merely being close to him has your head spinning.

At some point, he notices the sun starting to bother you. You feel him shift behind you and see his arm go up, and then his hat is on your head, and you’re pushing it down to make sure it doesn’t fall off.

It means nothing, you’re sure. He’s just being nice. But god, it means so much to you, though you’re sure it shouldn’t.

When you make it back to the ranch, you’re jittery and nervous, letting him help you off the horse and then backing up from him as soon as you’re off, handing him his hat from a distance. He doesn’t say anything, crediting it to being your first horse ride and the heat. He’s right, sort of. Just not right about where the heat’s coming from.

He waves you a quick goodbye in that attractive cowboy way, two fingers and all flicking off his forehead in a salute, and you turn away, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

You’ve tried to make your feelings for the quiet man go away, but he’s not made it any better.

You like Oj. There’s no denying it, no hiding it. You’ve fallen for a cowboy.

–

Some time passes between your realization and your next visit. You needed some time to think, to make sure what you feel for him isn’t just some stupid crossing of wires in your brain.

It isn’t. He’s on your mind every goddamn for the next 2 weeks.

Your visit is Holst’s doing this time. He wants you to take some more pictures of the horses. You go reluctantly, not arguing with him so he doesn’t start to pry.

When you get there, Oj seems happy to see you. You credit it to wishful thinking, or maybe he’s just happy to be here with his horses. You don’t know, and you don’t intend to think about it for long. You just flash him your camera and a wry smile and he nods, understanding what you’re here to do.

Well, what you’re here trying to do.

You’re too distracted, eyes flitting over to him with everything you do. You’ll be lucky if you get one clear picture, hands fumbling with the camera like you haven’t been taking pictures all your life.

Everytime your eyes find him, his eyes have found you as well, glances shared from under the brim of his hat. It feels like you’re both in middle school, trying to sneak little glances at your crush from across the ranch, your work going undone.

You’re trying. You really are. You try to focus on your task, to take the pictures Holst needs and leave, but you can’t settle the butterflies in your stomach, can’t get rid of that familiar heat, not with Oj’s gaze lingering over your every move.

But you’re just imagining things. You know you are. There’s no way Oj’s even giving you a second thought. He’s just watching his horses, making sure they’re in good hands.

You feel uncomfortable even being around Oj, knowing you feel the way you do for him and being sure he doesn’t feel the same. You have to go home. You have to get from around him before you do some shit you’ll regret.

You turn to leave, to sneak off before he even has the chance to realize you’re gone. You won’t come back again. You’ll think up some bullshit excuse to give Holst later.

But then Oj’s voice sounds out from across the way, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, where you going?”

Shit.

“Home. I don’t wanna bother you anymore.” you answer, turning towards him, figuring you’ll be truthful since this is the last time you plan to see him.

The look on his face is one of confusion, which matches what you feel inside. This can’t be happening right now.

“You’re not bothering me.�� he says. You’re sure he’s lying, right? He’s just trying to be nice, trying not to ruin his business relationship with Holst, trying not to hurt the weird photographer who popped up at his ranch one day’s feelings.

“I think I am.” you respond, eyes looking down at the dirt. Anywhere but at Oj. “It’s obvious you like being alone.”

“I do like being alone.” he nods, walking towards you. You knew it.

You nod at his statement, gearing up to ask him why he even stopped you. You back up, ready to leave. Until he speaks again.

“Unless I find someone who’s worth sharing my space with.”

Your head shoots up, eyes meet Oj’s sincere expression of emotion.

“Am I worth sharing your space with?” you just want to hear his answer, need to hear it spoken straight from his mouth.

He’s so close now, mere inches separating you two. And the heat is there again, and the butterflies settle in your stomach, just like they have everytime you two have been this close.

“Hell yeah.”

His lips crash against yours, the brim of his hat brushing against your forehead. You both can’t be bothered to care, not when the yearning of two people too afraid to say anything has finally been sated. Not when your lips feel so good together, when he can taste you and you can taste him. Not when his hands have found your waist and are gently squeezing, and your hands have found his neck, scratching softly at the short hair there.

Not when the heat of the California sun is nothing compared to the heat shared between you two.

You both separate for air, and Oj takes that as a chance to pick his hat up. Your hand flies to your chest, feeling your heartbeat as your chest heaves. He stands back up, laughing breathlessly.

“You dropped my hat.” he jokes, dusting it off. His eyes meet yours again.

“Well, it was hindering my ability to kiss the very handsome cowboy standing right in front of me.”

“Yeah, alright.” he laughs, putting his hat on your head.

“I’d hate to ruin the moment, but I gotta go home.” you say reluctantly, blushing at Oj’s action and tucking your braids under the hat.

“Yeah.” he nods, looking in the direction of the already setting sun, hands on his hips like they always are when he’s focused. “Next time you visit, I’m taking you out.” He smiles now, pretty white teeth shining. He looks happy, you think.

“I’ll hold you to that.” you smile back. He kisses you on your forehead as a goodbye.

This time on your drive home, you don’t chase the images of the cowboy flashing through your mind away.

—

Your next visit to the ranch is by invitation. You could call it a date, you guess.

When you get there, the man that meets you is obviously so happy to see you. He greets you with a kiss, one hand on your cheek, resting tenderly. He tastes like lemonade, and his body is warm like the heat of the sun. You hate to pull away, but you just have to admire the handsome cowboy standing right there in front of you.

He has an orange hoodie on, with something like “Scorpion King” written on it. It’s late in the evening, so you can just barely make it out. It looks good on him.

“You staring?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yeah.” you nod with a smile. “I can’t admire the man I just kissed? Plus the hoodie looks good on you.”

He doesn’t answer, just smiles again, shaking his head at your words.

“Nice hat.” he changes the subject, motioning with a nod towards the hat on your head that looks suspiciously similar to the one he gave you last time you saw each other.

“Where we going?” you change the topic, saving yourself from your own bashfulness.

“There’s this food place like, 5 minutes from Jupe’s Claim.” He decides to leave you alone, but inside he’s feeling all sappy about you wearing it.

“Cool.” you smile.

The drive there is filled with talking, mostly on your part, and laughing on Oj’s. You both fall into this dynamic quickly. You speak, and Oj listens. You like it.

You eat in his truck because you know that Oj doesn’t wanna be in the building with that many people. He tries to protest, but you stand firm, even locking the doors when he tries to leave the vehicle.

“You know, you’re holding me hostage.” he deadpans, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, okay.” you laugh through a mouthful of fries. He can’t help but chuckle, reaching for his food.

“And in my own vehicle?” he jokes, placing more fries into his mouth.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” you acquiesce. “We’re not going in there. I like it like this, just me and you.”

His eyes meet yours, and you’re so grateful that you can say something about it this time, can act on what you’ve been feeling for the past month or so. So you kiss him, and kissing him feels just as good as the first time.

When you hook your phone up to the aux and turn some music on, he cracks a smile, which turns into a laugh when you begin to passionately sing the lyrics.

“You’re very excited about this, I see.” he remarks.

“Hell yes I am!” you scream over the track. “It’s my favorite song!”

He just nods, choosing to silently watch as you give him the show of your life, grabbing at his hoodie and sobbing exaggeratedly to get the song’s point across.

You end up back at the ranch after a while, sometime after midnight. You leave, still feeling Oj’s lips on your forehead, his form of a goodbye.

—

No way.

Absolutely no way.

You rub your eyes like on the cartoons, squinting to make sure your vision is correct.

“Oj, what the hell!” you scream up at him.

“What.” he responds, like he’s not outside your house on top of a literal horse.

“Why are you on a horse!”

“I wanna take you horse riding. This time as my girlfriend.”

As his girlfriend.

“Good lord.” you laugh as Oj hops off of Lucky so he can help you up.

“How’d you know where I live?” you ask as he boosts you onto Lucky with a grunt.

“Holst.” He answers shortly. This man is gonna drive you insane. He swings up behind you, and then you both are off, riding through the countryside.

He’s so warm, and you are too, just like that third time y’all met. This time, you can express your thoughts to him.

“You know, last time we did this, it made my feelings worse.”

“Is it doing it again?” he asks, not questioning what else you meant.

“Yeah. Hell yeah.” you nod, and you feel him smile against your neck as he places a kiss there. His hand ghosts up your side, the other staying steady on the reins, and he places his hat on your head, just like the other time.

You smile to yourself, relishing in having the affection of the cowboy you could’ve sworn didn’t care for anything other than his horses.

When he drops you off at your house, you kiss him goodbye this time. He leans down over the horse to accept your kiss with smiling lips, and then he’s nodding like the stereotypical cowboy and riding off to his house.

Who would have known Otis Haywood Junior could be such a sweetheart?

—

Oj’s vinyl collection is insane. Currently playing is “Fisherman” by the Congos, the same song that was playing the day you came over for a horse ride.

Oj comes into the living room, two glasses of lemonade in both of his hands.

“I like this song.” you say.

“That’s good. It’s one of my favorites.” he responds, handing you a glass and taking a seat beside you on the couch.

“So when were you gonna tell me you’re this good at making lemonade?” you question dramatically, going back in for another sip.

“I live on a hot ass ranch and I’m outside most of the day. I thought that would be obvious.” He’s a sarcastic little thing, all snarky and cocky under that stoic exterior. You feel so grateful to be able to see this side of him, the side that he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

He finishes up the lemonade in his cup, setting it on the table beside the couch and hopping up to change the vinyl.

“What you turning on?” you ask, swirling your remaining drink around in your glass.

“It’s a lil vinyl I made for us.” He pulls the record out, replacing the one on the player with it.

“You.. you made a vinyl for us?” you ask incredulously, in fucking shock.

“Yeah.” he nods, placing the needle on the record. You recognize the song as one of the ones that you played in the truck on your first date. The one you told him was your favorite.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” You go silent at that, enjoying the song in a different context now.

He goes to the kitchen to wash and put up the glasses, leaving you in the living room, smiling when he hears you singing along to the record. When he comes back, another song is starting.

“All you got to do is walk away and pass me by, don’t acknowledge my smile when I try to say hello to you, yeah”

Michael Jackson croons off the player, singing lyrics that song very similar to you and Oj’s meetings and now relationship.

“That sounds like us at first.” you laugh, remembering Oj’s reluctance to even allow you on his ranch when you two first met.

“Does it?” he questions with a tilt of his head, fully aware that it sounds just like him.

“It does.”

“I just want to touch and kiss, and I wish that I could be with you tonight, cause you give me butterflies”

“You definitely give me butterflies.” you admit.

He’s standing cross-armed now, leaning against the table that the player sits on.

“Come ‘ere.” he beckons with a smile at your confession and a jerk of his head, outstretching his hand to you.

You stand up, entangling your hands and fingers with his. His other hand meets your hip as he starts to sway back and forth, and you fall in line with his dance.

“Would never have pegged you for the slow dancing type, but it works, to be honest.” you smile, eyes fixed on his. He smiles back, shrugging and kissing you on your forehead.

“If you would take my hand, baby I would show you, guide you to the light, babe”

Time seems to slow, the world outside falling away, leaving just you and Oj here together, dancing to music off a vinyl player on his ranch, your hands connected, bodies moving in sync. It feels kinda overwhelming, falling so fast for a man you were sure didn’t want anything to do with you.

Your eyes meet again, and so many things are said with just a glance. You have to talk, have to do something to deal with what you’re feeling. He looks too enamored with you, and you’re in too deep to not express it.

“Oj, I-” but he cuts you off with a kiss, knowing what you want to say.

“Don’t talk.” he shakes his head, separating for just a second. “Just do.” he nods, and then he moves back in. He’s sweet, a mix of lemonade and something you can only describe as him. His other hand moves to your cheek, cupping your face, and you almost melt at his tenderness when you feel his thumb start to rub softly. Your hands find his waist, tangling in the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to keep you in this plane of existence. It doesn’t quite work, though, because merely existing with this man sends you high enough to make sure you’ll never come down.

“Cause you give me butterflies inside”

When you both pull away, it’s with closed eyes and heaving chests. It takes you a second to come back down, to ground yourself back on earth. Oj’s hands have found your waist now, and yours are folded in front of you, too scared to touch him for fear of what will happen next.

He’s starstruck, but sure about what he wants. His hands find yours as your eyes open to find him gazing at you with adoration and sureness, and he places them on the waistband of his jeans, smiling against your lips when you hook your fingers in the loops and pull him ever closer, sighing against his lips when his warmth overtakes you.

Then he kisses you again, hands moving down to where yours are, ghosting under your shirt and resting on the skin above the waistband of your shorts. The kiss is deep, and before you know it your tongue slips into his mouth and his is in yours, and tongue-kissing would be gross with anyone else but with Oj it feels right. Everything feels right with him, and you swear you can feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your thigh.

You can’t blame him though, because the heat he’s made fall over you has spread, has entrapped you and found its way between your legs.

And, maybe fueled by arousal, or Oj’s urging for you to just feel and do, you unbutton his jeans. You don’t know what to do next, don’t know anything about how he likes it or how he wants it, but you don’t give yourself time to doubt. You hook your fingers in his belt loops again and pull him towards the couch, and you fall back, letting him take his place hovering over you.

He leans down to kiss you again, like he’s addicted to the feeling of your lips against his, your taste mixing with him. And he is, god he is. He can’t separate, can’t bring himself to just stop kissing you, so he doesn’t. You separate just for a second, just long enough to push his jeans down so he can take the hint, and he steps out of them, leaning right back down to kiss you again.

His kisses flow from your lips down to your neck, and your hands find purchase in his short curls, nails scraping at his scalp, and the appreciative groan he gives you send chills racking through you. He kisses and licks, sucks and bites until he finds the spot that makes you squirm and whine just a little louder than the rest. You feel him smile against your skin, then, and you can’t stifle a smile either.

“You found it.” you say quietly, like talking too loud will wake you out of a dream, and you’ll wake up in your bed and not under Oj on his couch, with music playing off his vinyl record player.

“Mhm.” he hums against your neck before he goes to work on that spot, focusing his kisses and licks on that sensitive patch of skin. His hands drift down your body, nimble fingers unbuttoning your shorts with one hand. You lean into his touch, nodding when his eyes find yours, and he asks “Is this okay?”

Your brain blanks at the feeling of his hand so close to the heat that he’s created inside you. And then his hand slides into your shorts, slipping into your underwear to meet the mess he’s made of you.

“This all for me?” he asks with a smile, and you, with a heaving chest and a fluttery stomach, nod again, head falling back onto the couch. His other hand eases the shorts down your legs, giving himself more room to work with. On his way back, he kisses down your leg, drawing a small laugh from you, so happy to be seeing this loving side of him, and he smiles at you.

Then he’s focused again, fingers moving against you, experimenting with different angles and movements and motions, still kissing and nuzzling at your neck while you whine and squirm. He’s determined, wants to find that one thing that makes you tick.

And then he finds it.

“Fuck, that’s it.” you moan, chest arching into him, feeling him press against you, firm and warm, as his fingers find your clit.

“That’s it?” he asks, mirroring you as you nod before he even gets the question out. It’s arousing, for some reason, and he swears he can feel the blood rush to your clit. He rubs soft circles over it, watching your face, making it his one and only purpose at this moment to learn how you like, how you want it and what drives you crazy. And when he rubs a certain way, flicks his fingers just right, he can’t help but smile again at the unadulterated moan that rips from deep in your chest.

“That’s it.” he speaks against that sensitive spot he’s found on your neck, and it drives you wild.

“Shit.” is all you can manage, back falling down from its arch, legs closing around his hand.

Oj takes it all in, your whines, your groans, the way you squirm and shake and jerk against him. It feels so good, Oj on top of you, his hands on your body, one between your legs and the other stroking your hair, soothing you as you get lost in the pleasure that he’s giving you.

“Feels so good.” you whine, one hand curled in his hair, the other curled in the fabric of his shirt that you wish was off right now. “Off.” you manage to say, and he hates to pull his hand away, but he gives you what you want, pulls his shirt off as fast as he can, returning his hand to where you both want it.

“You dripping, baby.” he hums, and you shiver at the pet name that slips off his lips so easily.

You bring him down into yet another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he finds his rhythm again, working you up into ecstasy like you’ve never felt before.

“You- fuck, you make me feel so good.” you confess. “You’re making me feel so good.”

That makes him press harder, makes his movements against your clit speed up, makes him grow harder and heavier against your thigh. He needed that, needed to know that what he’s doing is still something you want.

“You shaking, baby. Feel good, yeah?” His accent has you hanging off his every word, his deep voice and drawl adding to the blood rushing to your clit.

“I wanna come.” you say, eyes locked on his.

“Well come, baby, you got that shit.” And you do, shaking and shivering as you soak his hand and your underwear and the couch beneath you. You find it funny how you’re coming for him on his couch, coming for a man you swore didn’t want you, laughing as you come down, small huffs with your arm thrown over your face, in awe at how fast and hard he made you come.

Then his lips are meeting yours again, and everything feels so perfect, final pieces of clothing falling onto the floor beside the couch.

You and Oj make love that night on his couch for the first time, with a vinyl he made for you two playing.

–

You wake up in his bed, slightly confused until the memories of last night come rushing back.

—

Oj bottoming out inside you, kissing you softly as his hips slot against you. His thrusts jolting you up the couch, your arms and legs wrapped around him, his soft praises of “You look so pretty, been wanting this for so long” meeting with your moans and groans of “Right there, fuck, right there, Oj.”

Your chest arching into his, breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard and peaked and sensitive. His hand finding your chest, flicking softly, smiling once again at the shakes that rack through you. His golden chain dangling over you, glittering and hitting against your chin with every forward push of his hips into your heat.

Your hands gripping at his back, scratching and smoothing down his pretty brown skin, leaving red marks in your wake. His hisses and moans into your mouth at the feeling, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths too.

His fingers finding your clit, using the circles he learned earlier. Your legs tightening around his waist, his other hand ghosting down your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin, tight enough to leave pretty marks that you’ll admire in the California sunlight tomorrow.

Both of your moans and pants, warnings of your impending orgasms mixing together until you’re coming with each other. You soak his cock and he fills you up, giving warmth to each other like you’ve never felt before.

Oj collapsing on top of you, caging you in, you both resting in the afterglow of making love after holding back. Music sounding out, the soundtrack to you and Oj’s expression of passion.

Oj carrying you to his bed after a while, disappearing and returning with a warm, wet towel. While he was gone, you heard the music stop. You feel his hands ghost between your legs, soft and slow as he cleans you up, throwing the covers back over you.

Oj coming back after putting the towel away, settling on the other side of the bed, not knowing what to do next. You moving over to him immediately, arm thrown over his chest, and his arm coming up to embrace you.

You both drifting to sleep, laying in each other’s arms.

—

Oh. So that’s why you’re in his bed.

You throw the covers off your body, and you admire the bruises on your thighs in the California sun streaming through his windows. He’s not beside you, but you hear music spinning and smell food cooking.

You pick one of his shirts from his closet, a faded blue tee that stops right around the middle of your thigh. The marks he left yesterday are slightly covered, but enough peek out to satisfy your loving admiration of his touch left lingering on you.

When you make your way to the kitchen, you find Oj at the stove stirring a panfull of eggs. There’s two plates sitting on the counter, decked out with toast slathered in jelly, grits, and sausage. The food is paired with two glasses of cold lemonade — you can tell by the way the glasses are dripping in condensation.

He’s just finishing up, sliding eggs onto both plates. He leans into your touch when you embrace him, sliding your arms over his sides and to his front.

“G’morning.” you hum.

“G’morning, pretty girl.” is his response, voice deep with sleep, deep enough to shake you to your core. He turns around in your arms, places a finger under your chin to lift your lips to his.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.

“Great. Even better since I was beside you.” you answer honestly, your smile mirroring his.

“Yeah?” he muses, before dipping down again to kiss you once more.

Kissing Oj feels like magic, feels like sparks and flames and butterflies, shooting heat through every nerve in your body. He pulls away just to sit there, to smile at you and watch you smile back, before kissing you again.

His hands ghost under his your shirt, resting on your waist. He hums at the lack of obstruction, the way what you both know is going to happen is just within his reach. You rest your hands on the sides of his face, thumb rubbing against his skin.

Things move fast this time. His hands are running down your body and over your thighs, hooking under your knees to place you on the counter, still kissing you with all he has in him.

His jeans and boxers are down as quick as quick as he can pull them, and then he’s pushing inside you again, seating himself where he belongs.

He ruts deep, hips flush against yours with your arms wrapped around him, shaking legs pulling him as close as you can. His face buried in your neck as he finds that spot on your neck, and that spot inside you again.

“That’s it, ain’t it?” he nods against your neck, smiles when he feels you nod with him, slipping into the morning bliss and the feeling of you around him, wet and warm. Your skin is heated, swapping warmth from him to you and back to him, passion and infatuation hanging in the air.

Now, you both learn that you two love it like this as well, slow and deep on the kitchen counter, sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating and bearing witness to love-making between two people learning to love each other.

And when you come, and he does too, it’s with quiet moans and groans of each other’s name, his forehead against yours, hands gripping your waist, and you, with your fingers curled in his hair, shivering at his touch.

Luckily, cold eggs don’t sound too bad.

—

You make the ranch your home in no time. You have to go home for changes of clothes that day, but you’re back before sundown, decked out with some vinyls from your house to add to the collection.

You fall into your own routine, getting up and making breakfast somedays, prepping sandwiches for lunch on the days Oj cooks breakfast. You really could just do anything for the rest of the day, but most of it is spent with Oj, learning more about the horses and helping him where you can, sappy little moments ever abundant. At night, he ends up buried inside you again, which is becoming his favorite place to be. And during the day too, if you’re being honest. You two fuck like rabbits.

It’s cozy, existing in the same space with him. He’s soft, kisses you every chance he gets, makes you food and fucks you good after. And he’s funny, his wit endearingly annoying at times, though he tries to pretend like he doesn’t know.

“Put that shit on.” Black fabric hits your face as you’re sat on the couch, and when you feel it you can tell it’s the satin of your bonnet.

“What the fuck, Oj.” You deadpan, though you know he’s right.

“You left that in bed last night. Them braids look new. Put it back on.”

“So,” you start, raising up your hands so you can count on your fingers, “and I’m just tallying you up here, you can: cook, clean, you’re funny, you fuck amazing, you care about my hair, and on top of it all, you’re a real-life fucking cowboy?”

That draws a deep laugh straight out of his chest, his chuckles reverberating through the house, and through you, it feels. You laugh with him, feeling something like home sinking down into your bones. He makes his way to the kitchen, where he was on his way to before he spotted your bonnet on the bed.

“Yeah, I guess. And you went through the day without that on your head. So put it on.”

When you fuck on the counter a little after that, your bonnet is on.

–

The birth control / no condom conversation isn’t awkward at all, actually. It happens around two weeks after that first night.

With Oj’s cum leaking down your legs in the shower, his head resting in your neck, he finally says something.

“You on birth control?” he murmurs. “I been cumming inside you this whole time.” You can’t help but chuckle, breathless, still coming down.

“Yeah.” you nod.

“Thank god.” he responds.

He cooks you dinner that night, and kisses you every time he can.

—

It was inevitable, honestly, getting Oj between your legs. He’s tasted you on his fingers too many times to not want it from the source.

A morning spent in bed evolves into kisses, though everything with Oj means kisses. You’ve learned that Oj loves to kiss.

He sucks and licks at your neck on the way down to where he wants to be, hiking his repurposed shirt up to your stomach to reveal your core, wet and waiting for him to have his fill.

You know what’s about to happen, but you still jolt in shock when he licks that first stripe up your folds. Someway and somehow, he knows where your clit is, swirling his greedy tongue around it, indulging in your arousal.

“God, of course you’re good at this.” you moan, throwing your head back onto the pillows.

“Mhm.” he chuckles with an open mouth, tongue out and focused on your already sensitive clit. He bobs his head up and down, moving from your hole to your clit, always returning to the bundle of nerves that he’s so proficiently found and laid claim to.

He spreads you out with his thumbs, licks a fat stripe up from your entrance, sucking your clit into his mouth. You’re dumb now, stupid from pleasure and mind spinning with ecstacy. Sunlight streams through the windows, lights his pretty brown skin up, gives him a golden glow. It lights you up, too, gives him a better view of what you both know belongs to him already.

And you’re so close already. Three-ish weeks at the ranch has shown you it doesn’t take him long to get you high like this.

“Oj, ‘m gonna–”

“I know. Do it. Come for me.” He’s so sure in his words that you can’t help but follow them. You come, shaking and damn near crying on his tongue for the first time, and he swears you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He makes you come with just his tongue two more times before you both start your day. You have to lay in bed for a while before you can even think about walking anywhere on your still-shaking legs.

–

“When’d you catch feelings for me?” you ask him in bed one night while you read and he lays beside you, thinking.

“I thought you were pretty when you first came. But I really got roped in seeing you in your element, taking pictures of the horses, even if you were nervous. The day we kissed the first time.”

“Good to know.” you nod. You don’t feel the need to say anything else. Sitting in silence with Oj is something you’re growing to love.

–

You return the favor a couple days later.

He’s gentle, letting you take your time and take him into your throat at your own pace.

It’s messy. Spit dripping out of your mouth and onto the ground in the stables. Depraved, cause you couldn’t wait to get him in the house. He chuckles breathlessly at your greed, the way you basically jumped him, pushed him against the wall murmuring “God, you’re so fine” before you dropped to your knees, unbuckling his jeans with ease.

“That’s it.” he groans, hands threading into your braids.

You bob your head up and down, wrap your hand around the base of him, giving him just a little pressure, just enough to have a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You don’t pull off when he tells you he’s about to come. You don’t give a fuck, truly. You want it all. And you take it all.

You learn he’s the type to kiss you after he busts in your mouth.

–

Angel and Em come over a couple weeks after you move in. It doesn’t take them long to catch on to what you and Oj have going on.

“She’s yours?” Em motions to you with her vape as she steps into the house. Angel trails behind her, yapping on about aliens or some shit.

You see Oj nod from the corner of your eye as Angel makes you his next victim, asking “Do you believe in aliens?” like you didn’t see the picture of Jean Jacket on the news. Oj watches in quiet fascination as you fall quickly into Angel’s rant, nodding and adding your own two cents every once in a while when Angel needs a second to breathe (which, rarely happens, unsurprisingly).

The house gets loud pretty quickly, with Em quizzing you on who you are and if you’re any good for her brother in one ear and Angel going on tangent after tangent in the other. Oj’s content to just watch, to see you get loud with people who also enjoy being loud. He’s getting to know all the sides of you, learning the outgoing side he saw in the truck on your first date, learning the quiet side he sees on those music and lemonade nights, learning the soft side he sees when you two make love, learning the side of you that likes it rough and carnal, learning what makes you you.

After a while of talking and sipping lemonade with your copy of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album spinning, Oj joins Em in the kitchen.

“She reeled you in, didn’t she.” Em questions with a smile, poking fun at her brother with the smooth notes of “Human Nature” filling the house.

“Yeah, she did.” he admits with a nod and a smile. “She something special.”

“I can tell. she got you smiling and shit. You ain’t smiled this much since before.. you know. And from talking to her it seem like she’s what you need.”

“She makes me happy. For real.” is all he says, and Emerald knows what he means without him having to say anything else.

When Em and Angel leave for the night, you ask him one question, standing across from him in the kitchen, him leaning against the counter.

“I make you happy?” You ask.

“Hell yeah. You been making me happy since you came here that first day.” He hopes you believe him.

And you do. You can see a future with him. He sees one with you too.

When you both fall asleep in each other’s arms, you’re content.

–

It’s hot as fuck. Like, hot. It’s been a month or so living on the ranch, so you’re growing accustomed to the heat. But shit.

Oj’s feeling the effects of the sun too, wiping sweat off his forehead every second it seems. You take a second to lean against the stables for just a moment, just enough to catch your breath.

“You good?” he asks when he sees you stop tending to Ghost.

“Yeah.” you huff, fanning yourself. “It’s just hot as hell.”

You see him reach down to turn the hose on, and you pay him no mind. He’s just giving the horses some water.

Then you feel water hit you.

“Oj.” you laugh, wiping your face off.

“Yeah?” He feigns innocence. “I’m just tryna cool you off.” It’s sweet, really, his playfulness mixing with him caring for you, making sure you don’t pass the fuck out.

It turns into a water fight, the hose making its way from your hands to his, wetting him up too.

Eventually, the hose is dropped on the ground, spraying water up over you two while you kiss, laughing in between.

–

It’s not all love-making with Oj, though, not all sappy moments and heartfelt confessions. Oj knows how to break you just the way you like.

Over the months he’s learned you like it face down in the pillows sometimes, his hips snapping strong and determined into you, cock pressed right up against that spot. He’s learned you like when controls you, when he takes the reins.

“You can take it, beautiful. You got that shit.” You sob into the pillow, writhe and thrash in his grasp as he tightens his hand around your wrists, pushes them closer to your back where he has them pulled behind you.

“You feel me deep, don’t you? Feel me deep in this pussy, my pussy.” You couldn’t form words even if you were able to. He knows this, knows his voice, his accent, his drawl all get you that much wetter. “Its mine, hm?” he knows all of you belongs to him. All of you, down to your soul, belongs to him.

“Yours.” you choke out, tell him what he knows already. He makes you come so many times that night, you just barely pass out.

–

Things go so easy. It’s so easy to love Oj and it’s so easy for him to love you.

The first time he says it is completely on purpose, about 6 months after that first date, and 5 months after you moved in.

It’s a night that goes like many of yalls nights, sipping lemonade and spinning records. The conversation is meaningless, but meaningful because it’s with you. And then things get silent, and it gives Oj a moment to lay in what he has with you. The words make perfect sense when they roll from his lips.

“I love you.” His eyes are trained on yours.

“I love you too.” You’re sure about it. You’ve loved him for a long time.

And that’s the end of it. It isn’t a big deal, because you both knew what it was you were feeling before you even felt the urge to put words to it.

You love him. And he loves you too.

–

It’s funny how a quick visit to see some horses could evolve into this.

Moving onto the ranch, making love whenever you both please, letting Oj break you the way you love and he loves too. Kisses and I love you’s shared, horse rides and lemonade and dates in his truck, with and without music playing. Compliments on your hairstyles and reminding you to wear your bonnet, late night runs to the nearest store, dates at Jupe’s Claim. Water fights on days when it gets wayyy too hot. Nights spent listening to music and talking about the most mundane of things, eyes and lips always landing on your lover.

He eventually tells you exactly how Pops died. How that shit fucked up him up bad. But he makes sure you know he’s grateful for you, thanks whoever’s listening that you walked into his laugh with a love for something he loved too and shy ass smile.

“You make me happy in a way I aint felt in a long time.” he tells you in bed between kisses one night with you wrapped up in his arms. You’re glad you could do that for him.

“You make me feel safe. You make me feel seen.” He’s glad he could do that for you.

Funny how one meeting could spawn all this

#oj haywood smut #oj haywood x reader #oj haywood x black reader

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year

Text

Following Along (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Son!Reader, Peter Parker X Male!Reader (Platonic)

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of serial killer, mention of dead body(s) (Both vague)

Request: How about a fic Tony Stark X Son Reader fic, where reader of a Sherlock type when it comes to his deduction, intelligence but also sometimes callous behaviour. Maybe Tony makes him hang out with Peter and his friends and it ends up him then following him around while he handles a case and it ends up with the Avengers tailing him.

Tony had known ever since his son was just a few months old that he was a little… quirky. He never really interacted with other kids at nursery or on playdates, and while other toddlers played with shapes and blocks, either together or alone, whenever Tony picked up Y/N and asked what he’d gotten up to, the answer was always something that was always… off. Like the time you made a poster detailing different bugs in the garden, drawing them and how they were different, or another day when you spent the entire time investigating and locating a little girl’s lost dinosaur toy, which sounded really sweet until the caretaker had to tell him that when you found it in another kid’s backpack, you dumped it out in front of everyone, pointed to the kid and called him a thief and made the kid cry.

Now, any normal parent would show at least some concern about their kid’s behaviour, maybe put them in therapy, try and get that behaviour out of them. However, Tony saw something in you that stood out. You liked to investigate. You liked knowing things, you liked to solve puzzles, and as you grew older, this continued and grew, and instead of punishing you for being rather blunt or rude at times, especially when you pointed things out about you, Tony instead set up a simple rule of “You can only do that if the person was being mean in the first place or you have a good reason to” and gave you frequent tasks to keep you occupied. That worked fine for the most part, until you reached middle school. That was when he started getting called into the school because of incidents.

It switched between you being bullied for being weird and quiet and rude at times, and you pulling stunts that always seemed to blow up and cause drama among the school. Like the time you blasted one of your classmates and bullies in the middle of an assembly for stealing other student’s work to get an award, even providing proof then and there, or the time when a teacher called in Tony about your behaviour, and you pointed out that you had been doing all your work and extra, and also that she was picking on you and suggested she stop unless she wanted her affair with another teacher to be announced over the speakers the next morning. All with a straight face, no mischievous smirk, or a glint of malice in your eye. It was also around that time when Tony suggested that you set up your own amateur detective agency, partially to hopefully help you in the process of pursuing a job you would clearly strive in, and also to stop you from investigating and exposing your teacher’s affairs.

Well, that amateur detective agency, where you started off with helping students with their own problems, very quickly became far more professional when you started taking on older, paying clients and being an actual private detective in the city, gathering information for people, and in more than one occasion, actually working with the police with it. Needless to say, Tony had to ask Bruce to get in touch with his cousin as an emergency rep in case any of this backfired, though you assured your dad you had been working with another lawyer called Murdock or something on some cases.

Tony had a lot of mixed feelings now about your job that you were doing. On one page he was immensely proud of you, and he knew this was only the start of a successful career and he was already prepared to help you set up an actual office for you when you were old enough, he loved to hear from you about your latest successful case, and when you came to him for his opinion on your cases to look for leads and he got to see your mind at work. On the other side, he was worried about you. You stepped on the cop’s toes often, and your lack of filter frequently got you in trouble with them, and then there were the dangerous cases with high profile crime involved where you were at actual risk of being hurt, and of course, the long standing problem of your lack of social life, and it especially worried him since you just started High School.

“Peter, can I ask you a huge, huge favour, and I’m being completely serious.” Tony asked of his intern on one of the rare times Peter was on base to update his suit. Peter looked up from where he was doing some homework, waiting for the update to be complete to look at Tony.

“Of course Mr Stark, what can I do?” Peter inquired, admittedly maybe a bit too excitedly.

“As you know, I have a son- Y/N. He’s not the best socially, and he has this private detective work going on outside of school, and it’s actually getting pretty serious. He told me about a new case he’s started, and I feel like he might actually get in trouble- can you just watch him please? Make sure he’s not in any actual danger?” Tony asked. “I don’t want you to feel like this is a babysitting job- it’s really not. Y/N’s cases are usually actual criminal cases, but he’s a year younger than you and I’m genuinely worried his bluntness is gonna get him in serious trouble with the wrong people.”

“I can do that!” Peter assured him with a smile. He of course knew about Y/N Stark’s private detective work, people talked about it who were in middle school with you as well as the stunts you pulled, and quite often people would ask if you were involved in a recently solved case, and sometimes you answered in the affirmative, so he knew that you were in serious stuff. “Would you like me to be with him or tail behind or..?”

“Tailing won’t work, he’ll notice immediately. Just tell him you want to follow along and be his back up if anything goes south- he worked out you were Spiderman before I did, you’re not gonna hide anything from him.” Tony explained. Peter didn’t have time to properly process the fact that you knew who he was before he’d already accepted his task and had left the base to prepare for tomorrow.

When Peter arrived to school the next day, as soon as he entered the school, he was greeted by MJ and Ned, who could see he was on a mission and had something on his mind as soon as he came in. “What’s going on?” MJ asked as she watched him look around the hallways, over people’s heads.

“I might need to skip school today. Mr Stark’s given me the task to follow his son around on a case he’s doing. It’s dealing with some serious crime so he wants me to be there in case things go sideways.” Peter explained to them.

“An actual criminal case?” Ned asked, and Peter nodded. “Any idea what it is?”

“No, Mr Stark didn’t state, but I’m gonna ask Y/N when I join him.” Peter answered.

“Can we tag along?” MJ asked, leaning on the line of lockers.

“Uh… are you sure? It might be dangerous.” Peter asked, wide eyed, getting a nod from the girl, and Ned got an excited grin on his face. “Okay, but if we actually get in trouble, run at the first chance you get, okay? I’ll worry about Y/N.” Peter told them, and after getting the affirmative, the three of them went on the search for you.

For Tony, he took no news as good news. He’d not heard anything on the news, Peter hadn’t called or texted, neither had you, and FRIDAY was silent about anything to do with the spider suit. It took that as things were going more than smoothly, you and Peter were playing nice, and hopefully you’ll have a new friend by the end of the day, and so he let himself relax a little bit and actually focus on his work.

It wasn’t until Pepper waltzed into his lab that he realised something was up, since she came in around the same time everyday; 5pm, long after school had finished, when you should be home, when FRIDAY would let him know Peter was using the suit. Something was off. He wasn’t sure if it something was exactly wrong, but it was off at least. His first course of action was to drop a text to Peter, asking how the case had gone, presuming by now it would be over and done with and maybe the kids had lost track of time and maybe were busy just being teenagers and having fun. He watched the screen after sending the message for a few seconds, watching as Peter read it, and started to respond, before the text popped up for him to see.

We’re still working on it

Now THAT was weird. It was vague with no details, almost like Peter was busy or focussed on something else. Tony didn’t feel great about that, and so immediately called his son, turning to Pepper who had been watching him since she came in, trying to figure out why he was suddenly in a panic with her showing up. After a few rings, you answered. “Dad I’m kind of busy right now.” You answered him

“Y/N, can you give me an idea of what’s happening? You’re usually home by now and I’ve not heard a peep from you all day.” He asked, glancing at Pepper who immediately understood what was happening. “Is Peter with you?”

“Yes. And Ned. And MJ. They’re being really helpful, thanks for sending them.” You answered, your voice being slightly muffled with the sound of fabric, and Tony could tell you had the phone pressed between your head and shoulder. “You know how I was hired to track that man’s movements before he went missing?”

“Yes, it’s in the newspaper, your biggest case- insanely proud- did you find something big?”

“Oh yeah he’s the victim of a serial killer and I’m working on finding the other victims and the killer.” You answered him far too calmly for your father’s liking.

“What- how are you doing that? Please tell me you got the police involved and you’re not planning to go body hunting as an after school activity- where’s Peter and the others?” Tony demanded towards you.

“Of course I’ve got the police involved- I sent them to look for the bodies in the places I think they are about… 4 hours ago? Anyway- dad can you get FRIDAY on the call please I need her. Peter forgot his spider suit.” You requested, answering a few questions your father had but adding so many more. FRIDAY, at the mention of her name immediately inserted herself.

“How can I help Mr Stark? She inquired, her inserting herself immediately putting your call onto speaker. Pepper came to Tony’s desk and stood beside Tony, who put his phone down on the desk and just leant over to put his head in his hands.

“FRIDAY, I need to narrow down who lives on Gallow Way, New York. We’re looking for a Man, within the 40 to 60 age range, possibly married in the past but now divorced and living alone.” You detailed.

“Y/N Stark you better not be thinking of confronting a killer!” Pepper spoke up, and silence fell over the phone.

“Does it help if Peter’s here, police are on route and his technique for killing isn’t a gun?” You inquired to her.

“Absolutely not- stay right there, I’m coming.” Tony ordered, calling his suit and immediately flying out the building to go collect his son and intern. In retrospect, he guessed he should have known that Peter would get caught up in your shenanigans and aid you in them rather than calming you down in these situations. Still, he was just glad that you had Peter with you- that did make him feel a little bit better in the prospect that you did face off against a serial killer. Not a thing he thought he’d be saying to himself when he became a father.

By the time he got there, the police were already there, having already arrested the man and were searching the house, and he spotted his son talking with an officer who was taking extensive notes, Peter, MJ and Ned not far away. He walked over to them first, and they saw him as soon as he landed and straightened up a little as he walked up to them. “What I’d miss?” He asked, before quickly adding “Please tell me you didn’t see a dead body.”

“No, we were just following the person’s last movements before I guess Y/N realised he’d seen something similar and quizzed us on some other missing people to see what we knew. We did a bit of googling for more information before Y/N announced it’s a serial killer and sort of just… put together a description of what the guy would be like who did this, looked at a map and picked some spots where the bodies could be then called the cops.” Michelle explained to him in a confused tone, which was understandable.

“Have they found anything yet?” He asked next.

“Apparently they did find something at one the spots Y/N highlighted a few minutes ago… which is terrifying.” Ned commented. Tony nodded quietly, before going on his phone, selecting a few things, before looking back at the kids in front of him.

“Alright, a private car will be here in 5 minutes, it’ll take you home, okay? Peter, do you want to go with them?” Tony asked, getting a rushed nod from the teen, and Tony was starting to regret asking him to tag along with your antics. Maybe he’d been too lenient with you. Maybe he should restrict what cases you can take on…

“Mr Stark?” Tony glanced up from his thoughts at the sound of Peter, humming to tell him he was acknowledged. “If Y/N has any big cases again, can I tag along? Other than the whole serial killer thing… it was kind of fun and interesting. I learnt some things that could help me if I need to do my own investigations.” Peter requested, getting slightly wide eyes in response.

“Uh… sure, just ask Y/N beforehand to be sure he’s comfortable with it, okay?” Tony responded, and Peter grinned and nodded, before Tony turned and started to make his way over to his son, still rambling to the cop who on close inspection almost looked frazzled. “Y/N.” He called, making you stop and turn to face him.

“Hi dad, I’m nearly done here, just letting them know what kind of things they need to be looking for in the house and stuff.”

“I’m sure they can figure it out with the extensive notes you’ve already had them writing. Say anymore and they might thing you’re the killer, not the detective.” He joked with you, giving an apologetic smile to the cop as he took your shoulder to pull you away. “If you have any other questions don’t be afraid to call us- I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.” He excused, starting to lead you away. “Did you go in the house?”

“No. But I did snoop in the back-” Tony interrupted you with a sigh. He swore you were going to be the death of him one of these days.

Hope you like it! Sorry for the super slow posts, I’ve been overwhelmed recently with things I need to do and it’s making me not want to do anything creative. If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe @petersparkers3

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [1.5K]

You were still staring, not blinking. Unmoving, actually. But the parting of your lips and the warmth over your cheeks was an indication that you had heard the boy talk.

“Can I kiss you?”

You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t been waiting for it. But the inevitability of your first kiss happening was making your stomach twist and turn, and god you hated that feeling.

It was becoming a common occurrence though, the more you spent time with Steve. He was awful about it, hardly sympathetic, always looking pretty, being too sweet, telling you that he liked your big, black boots. And each outing to the diner, to the mall, each walk around the park was feeling more and more like a date.

Once he’d your hand for the first time, it was only normal to assume he’d kiss you on your doorstep, right? In the front of his car? It hadn’t happened though, not that day, not like that, and despite your nerves — as hideous as they were — you were disappointed

You’d walked, possibly stomped, away from him, trying your very best to not let any sort of emotion show — especially disappointment. Boys weren’t worth being disappointed over… even Steve Harrington.

But then he’d invited you over one Sunday, a lazy one, where the sky outside was bleak and grey, a blue cloud kinda day. There was drizzle on his bedroom window and Steve had put his stereo on a low volume, if only to get you to make fun of his music taste. You’d been stiff and tense and a little wide eyed when he brought you into his bedroom, more so than usual anyway, and Steve wasn’t sure how this was going to go.

It took an hour, maybe two, but you seemed to relax a little, wandering around his room with fingers outstretched and exploring, dragging over his books, his old sports trophies, the edges of his mixtapes. And then you caught sight of a baseball bat in the corner, leaning against the wall with an assortment of nails sticking out the top.

You tapped the wood and stared at him, your face hiding any indication of a reaction. He swallowed, wondering how he could explain. And then, a tiny twitch of your lip, a lift in the right corner that he almost missed.

“I like this.”

Of course you did.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on Steve’s bed and Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, entranced, transfixed. The prettiest little patch of black in his blue, blue room.

Black dress, black tights, black boots, black eyes, black cherry lips. You were smudged and smokey around the edges, an ink stain on a drawing. Steve marvelled over it all.

“You look pretty,” he said, knees bumping as you say face to face, legs crossed and a small pile of cards between you both.

(‘Cause you’d taken a peek at his selection of movies and said: “absolutely not, Steven.”)

You looked up at him and blinked once, lips pressing together in a way that Steve now knew meant he’d caught you off guard. He was getting used to you, your mannerisms, the bluntness that normally kept people away.

You let out a breath and held his gaze, nodding once, curtly.

“Thank you,” you replied and your tongue felt heavy with it, still trying to learn that it was okay to accept such a sweet compliment. “I like your sweater,” you offered back.

Steve smirked and it was dizzying. “No you don’t,” he laughed. He was right, it was a deep, rich yellow and you always tried to stop yourself from wrinkling your nose when he wore it.

Another twitch of your lip and Steve grinned, he was getting good at pulling these micro smiles from you.

And then, those words.

“Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t speak for a minute, maybe, hopefully not longer than that. Your hands were curled around your knee and you were mostly unmoving, until Steve reached out and took one, holding it in his own and your heart screamed at how his touch brought you some comfort.

He was always so warm. And patient, ‘cause he was sitting waiting, watching you quietly, earnestly, never pushing.

“I— I haven’t…” you grimaced, eyes shutting briefly before staring back at the boy a little harder than before. You needed to get a grip. “I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

Steve nodded slowly, as if he knew this, his expression unchanging. He lifted one shoulder, a half shrug, casual and unaffected.

“That’s okay,” Steve told you and his hand was still on yours, fingers twisted together. His thumb rubbed a circle on the inside of your palm and you ached with how nice it felt. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

You straightened your back and tried not to glare, because he was being so sweet and so patient and you were trying not to panic. If you panicked, you’d run.

And Steve seemed to know that, ‘cause he gave your hand a soft squeeze and he smiled, that slow, gentle smile that made you want to punch a damn wall because it was so nice.

“I probably won’t be good at it,” you said, deadpan and without any apology. You sucked in a breath, quick and sharp, wondering if the boy would give up.

You didn’t want him to.

“That’s okay too,” Steve said softly and then you were leaning in.

You heard his breath hitch, watched his eyes darken and god, you liked that. His gaze dropped to your lips, staring, a little wide eyed.

“Show me,” you demanded and Steve smiled because he knew you know, knew that you were nervous, not rude.

“Yeah?” He whispered. He waited for you to nod and then he grinned, wide and bright and he looked so happy. “Okay, c’mere.”

His hands cupped your face and were suddenly too warm, warmer than you’d ever been and it only worsened when Steve splayed his long fingers over your jaw, his thumb rubbing softly at the corner of your mouth. You gasped, sharp and sudden.

“You can tell me to stop anytime, yeah?” Steve told you, “pull out that little blade if I do anything you don’t like,” he joked.

“Sylvia isn’t little,” you tutted, referring to the knife that was always folded and tucked in a boot.

What you meant was, ‘you won’t do anything to me that I won’t like.’

Steve seemed to understand because he let out a small huff of laughter and smiled, nodding. He looked pleased, his cheeks a little pink. “Okay, close your eyes.”

Surprisingly, you did without argument. And Steve blew out a shaky breath when your hands got impatient and curled around his wrists, holding him as he held you. Your thumb pressed to his pulse point, a soft, quiet tickticktick of his heartbeat under your touch.

And then, the slant of his nose bumped yours, gentle and a little surprising because your lips parted ever so slightly. Steve leaned in a little more, his top lip brushing against yours and you marvelled at how he made the air taste like mint, like the forest, like the cherry soda he’d been drinking.

He waited, eyes closed and forehead against yours, his thumb stroking over cheek until he felt you nudge forward and then your lips were touching his. It was chaste, at first, a soft press of his mouth on yours and you pulled back until you didn’t.

You took merely a second before pushing back into the boy, hands curling tighter around his wrists, making sure he didn’t pull away. You felt greedy, wanting more from him straight away but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He pressed his lips back to yours and let you get a feel for him until he took a little charge and tilted your face with his hand, nose pushing into your cheek more until your lips parted under his.

He kissed you slowly, unbearably soft and sweet until you made a little noise for him and he licked over your bottom lip once before pulling back, pupils blown wide and chest heaving.

He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and eyed you carefully.

“Was that okay?”

You were still holding onto his wrists.

You nodded, staring at him in that way that you did, wide eyed and unblinking. But he saw the shine there, the way you tucked your bottom lip onto your mouth, like you were trying to chase the taste of him.

“Mhmm,” you said, “that was okay.” You were quieter than normal, your voice taking a less sharp edge.

“We can do it again, if you want,” Steve offered. He didn’t want to push.

And then, something magic. You smiled. It was tiny, barely there, but both corners of your lips lifted, a pretty twist as you tried to tamper it down but Steve saw. You nodded, once, curt and direct. “Please,” you asked him and god, it was the prettiest thing Steve had ever heard.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x wednesday!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve baby blurb

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yeollie-plz · 1 year

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All Too Well

Preoutbreak! Joel x F! Reader

Synopsis: You met Joel your junior year of college. You had been so focused on your schooling until that fateful night. You were so young, so naïve. He was only a year older but it felt like he knew it all.

Genre: angst! so so angsty its insane

Warnings: break up, fighting, kissing, Y/N insert, pregnancy, labor and contractions, death, drinking (also underage drinking), drunk people, mentions of virginity and losing it, mentions of sex but no sex scenes, hospitals, doctor talk and mentions of medical complications, funerals

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: So I don't usually like song based fanfics but I had an idea and I ran with it. Tbh after I wrote it, I fell in love with it, hopefully you do too! Also! It is obviously the ten minute Taylor's version!

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

It was right before your 21st birthday, you had been dragged by your friend Layla to a party at some sorority house. You didn't want to be there, but she insisted.

So now you were standing in the kitchen with a beer you hadn't even sipped and no Layla in sight. Your only company was the people that would stumble in to fill their cups and not utter a word. That was until Joel walked in. He had this air to him, he was calm and collected, and you could tell there was a kindness in his eyes.

He noticed you almost immediately and started a conversation. He told you how his brother dragged him here and you marveled at the sameness of your situations.

You two talked the whole night, neither one of you drinking. It comforted you that he was also sober.

It was almost one in the morning when Layla found you again. She was clearly wasted and you rolled your eyes.

"I should probably take her home." You told Joel.

Grabbing Layla to help her walk, you made your way out of the kitchen. Before you could leave he lightly grabbed your arm.

"Wait, can I get your number? I wanted to know if maybe we could get some coffee sometime?" You stared at him with shock. You had enjoyed the conversation but you didn't know he felt that way.

"Uh, yeah sure." You quickly grabbed a pen and random receipt from your bag. Jotting your number on it, you handed it to Joel with a smile.

He returned the smile and helped you and your friend to the car. You watched him in your rearview as you drove off, smiling to yourself.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street

You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me

Wind in my hair, I was there

A few months and a few dates later, you and Joel had become official. You had never felt more like yourself. It was crazy to say a man had done that to you but you couldn't deny the facts. Even your school work had improved!

Your favorite nights were the nights you and Joel would just drive around. The two of you would drive around the town, every time you hit a red light he would look over at you with those soft eyes of his.

You did a lot of driving and he did a lot of staring. You would drive around and just talk about anything and everything. It was so simple, yet so perfect.

You taught me 'bout your past thinkin' your future was me

He told you everything about himself on those drives. How he grew up, his life with his family, even about his petty little fights with Tommy when they were younger.

It made you happy that he trusted you with every part of him. So, you told him all about you in return. You wanted all of him and gave all you back.

And I was thinkin' on the drive down: Any time now

He's gonna say it's love

You never called it what it was

You don't know when it happened but one day you woke and realized you were in love with Joel.

You wanted to scream out into the universe how much you loved this man. But it never felt like the right time.

A part of you wanted him to say it first. But no matter how many times he stared at you with those eyes, he never did.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night

We're dancin' 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Down the stairs, I was there

You were taking a nap at Joel's house one day when you were awoken to the sound of music downstairs. It was an old song you didn't recognize. Following the sound through the house, you found Joel gliding around the linoleum of the kitchen. You let out a laugh which stopped him in his tracks.

He met your eyes with that look, the look that made you melt. The look you knew all too well. He offered his hand to you. Gladly, you took it. You two danced for the rest of the song.

He pulled you close as it faded away, ghosting a kiss on your lips. That was the night he took your virginity. There was no good reason you had waited, you just had. But it felt right to lose it to him. He felt right.

And there we are again when nobody had to know

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Sacred prayer and we'd swear

It became the norm, you two would drive around and talk and end up at his place between the sheets. It never made you feel dirty, it made you feel loved.

But it was the lack of actual dates or him being uninterested in hanging out with your friends that made you start to pull away.

It wasn't until one night when Tommy stopped by unannounced to Joel's and he didn't even know who you were. You drove home crying that night.

Joel found you the next day with flowers in his hands, apologizing over and over again. He made an excuse of not wanting Tommy to know about his private life and how he hadn't found the right time.

He swore he told Tommy everything that night and how he would get the three of you together soon. You took him at his word and you two ended up in the sheets once again.

Except this time it felt different.

Well, maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up

Runnin' scared, I was there

You decided you weren't going to just be compliant anymore. You were human and you needed, no you deserved more!

You brought it up one night and it became a huge fight. Screaming and crying, you two broke up.

You hadn't seen or talked to him for two months until those blue lines showed up on the pregnancy test.

And you called me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of bein' honest

You called him after crying all night. He needed to know that you were pregnant with his child.

Joel almost let it go to voicemail, but he finally answered. But when he did, he wouldn't even let you speak. He just muttered an, "I'm busy." and hung up.

You cried all night for the second night in a row.

But then he watched me watch the front door all night

Willin' you to come

And he said: It's supposed to be fun turning 21

A week later and it was your 21st birthday. You decided to spend it with your parents since you knew if you spent it was Layla she would force you to drink. With your newly found condition, that was not possible.

All day and night you stayed in your room, not even wanting to eat. All you wanted to do was tell Joel. You hadn't even told your parents yet.

You wanted to keep the baby but you couldn't do it alone. At least you didn't want to do it alone.

It wasn't until your dad came to your room to try and coax you out, that you finally broke down and told them everything.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again

But I'm still tryin' to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

A few more months went by and you were starting to show. You hadn't tried to make anymore attempts to contact Joel in a while. You decided to focus on yourself and the life you were growing inside of you. Whom, you found out at your last scan, was a girl.

You were out on night with Layla when you saw Tommy out on a date with some girl. Neither him nor Joel would've found out if it weren't for that night.

He saw you instantly and made his way over. He casually stroke up conversation, it felt more like a formality than anything.

You nervously swiped your hand across the table, knocking your fork to the floor. All eyes fell upon it.

"Oh, don't worry I'll get it." Tommy said as he knelt down.

As his hands gripped your fallen fork, his gaze began to move upward to your eyes but stopped at your swollen stomach. You cursed yourself for wearing something so tight tonight.

You gulped, letting his name fall past your lips. He stood back up and tried to wipe the shock from his face.

"Is that? Is Joel the..." His question trailed off, but you nodded still, knowing what he was asking.

"Y/N, why haven't you told him? He's been besides himself since the breakup."

You shook your head, "I tried, he just hung up on me."

Tommy put his hand on your shoulder.

"You need to tell him. He'll be happy, I promise."

You sighed and nodded your head solemnly. You knew you had to tell him, it was just so hard.

You went home that night and pulled out the flannel he had left at your place. You slept in it that night, his smell lulling you to sleep. Tomorrow was the day you would finally tell him.

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there

The next afternoon you knocked on Joel's door. It was cold out, so you had bundled up a little more. Yet, there was still no hiding it.

His look of shock at your appearance was nothing compared to the look he made when saw your pregnant form.

He started to say something but you cut him off.

"Joel, just listen. I wanted to tell you, I tried but you kept hanging up on me and eventually I just kind of gave up. I never wanted to hide it from you. I never wanted to raise the baby without you but you had given me no choice. I saw Tommy last night and he said things that made me realize I needed to try again. So here I am."

There was a long silence between the two of you.

"Thank you." he finally uttered out.

"For?" You looked up at him, trying to read his face. All you were met with were those eyes you had grown to love.

"Everything. Showing me how to love. Giving me the greatest gift I could ever receive...for coming back." He reached out and touched your stomach. His hands moved slowly to your hips, pulling you towards him.

Leaning his forehead against yours, he finally said those three words you had waited so long to hear.

"I love you."

That's when you felt a raindrop fall on the top of your head. Both of your eyes met the sky to face the falling rain.

"It's raining." You said breathlessly.

"I'm not sure if that's a good sign or not." Joel said with a chuckle.

"I don't think it is, but I'm sure we can change that. I love you too."

He smiled and kissed you.

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

Just between us, did the love affair maim you too?

'Cause in this city's barren cold

I still remember the first fall of snow

And how it glistened as it fell

You were now nine months along. You had moved in with Joel and even set up a nursery for your baby girl. Joel surprised you by painting her room purple, your favorite color. He had become that guy you had fallen in love with again and you couldn't be happier.

It was an even colder night when you woke up with a start. A shooting pain going through your spine. Shaking Joel awake, telling him you were sure you had just had a contraction.

He rushed around the house in a flurry, your eyes just following him around. He would've been making you dizzy if it weren't for the crippling moments of pain you kept feeling.

You yelled his name as another contraction hit.

"Joel, we have to go." He finally looked at you, doubled over in pain. He rushed over and tried to rub your back.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry darlin', I was so busy trying to get everything ready that I forgot how much pain you were in."

"It's fine, we just should go now before I have the baby in our living room. You can bring stuff to the hospital later."

"You're right. Let me help you to the car, baby."

Hours later and you were still having contractions but you were not getting any more dilated than before. The doctor came in to tell you they needed to do a C-section.

"A C-section? What do you mean? She can't give birth naturally?" Joel asked, confused. He seemed a little concerned as well.

"Well the baby just isn't moving along as much as we would like. So for both the baby and the mother's benefit we should do the Caesarean."

"it's fine, Joel, It's just a few cuts. We will be back to you in no time. Both of us." Joel looked at you and then back to the doctor for conformation, who nodded.

"Fine, but take care of her." Joel gave in, slumping down into his chair.

"Of course sir."

They took you away to surgery. Too long ago now for Joel's taste. Time was moving too slowly and Joel was losing it. Tommy had shown up about 30 minutes ago. He had been trying to calm Joel's worry this whole time.

The doctor finally came their way.

"Y/N Y/LN's family?"

Tommy and Joel nodded.

"The baby is perfectly healthy, congratulations you have a little girl. But, unfortunately, Miss Y/L/N began to hemorrhage as I was trying to sew her up. She lost a lot of blood and we were unable to find the source of the bleeding in time. She flatlined on the table and we were unable to revive her. I'm so sorry."

Joel just blinked at the doctor, it took him a minute to process the news. Then it hit him and he sunk down to his knees in the waiting room.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as the rain began to fall outside.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, I was there, I was there

Joel didn't want to attend the funeral but Tommy made him, he said something about how the baby should be there.

He had named her Sarah. One night when you two were laying on the couch, watching a movie you had mentioned how much you liked the name. Joel made a mental note of it.

The three of them arrived at the funeral, Joel couldn't bring himself to talk to your parents. After their last interaction, there was no point. They had all but blamed Joel for your death. He even made Tommy bring Sarah over to them, knowing he couldn't do it himself. But they deserved to cuddle and love their granddaughter, after all it was the last part of you they had left.

As he watched the casket lower into the ground he remembered everything about you. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the way you unconditionally loved him even after what he did to you.

Joel looked down to the baby in his arms. She looked so much like you. He promised himself he would protect her at all costs. He would protect her the way he couldn't protect you.

#joel miller #the last of us #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #fanfic #last of us #joel miller story #joel miller fanfic #the last of us joel #last of us joel #joel the last of us #taylor swift song fic #all too well

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ticklish-n-stuff · 7 months

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Tickletober day #4: Weak spot

The difference of writing RuiKasa when I want to vs when its requested is ASTONISHING. I haven't had this much fun writing a pjsekai fic since idk, and for my ot4 nonetheless💖

Special thanks to @mayatkls & @kairoscler for helping me come up with this idea + all the brainrot shared lmao

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Rui x Tsukasa (poly wxs)

Lee: Rui

Ler: Tsukasa

Warnings: Tickles!

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Throughout his time in WonderlandsxShowtime, Tsukasa has witnessed many sides of Rui. From his genius inventions, to his more riskier ones; his serious moments and at his most vulnerable. Yet, he can’t ever recall seeing Rui laughing genuinly, only that silly “fufufu~” he does. As cute as it is, he needed more to satiaste his thirst for laughter. That was when Nene gave him the marvelous idea to ‘get it out himself’. Pretty vague idea, and yet it was enough to get the gears turning in Tsukasa’s head.

Later during rehearsal, Tsukasa pulled Emu aside, claiming he had a top secret mission for her.

“Really?! What is it?!” the pinkette bounced in excitement.

“Quiet down! We can’t let Rui know, now here’s what I want you to do…” the blonde whispered out his plan and before long, Emu went dashing for Rui.

“Rui-kun! Rui-kun!” she chirped out cheerfully as she found the purple haired male toying with Robo-Nene.

“Oh? What brings you here, Emu-kun?~” Rui had his usual sly grin, but that would soon change, hopefully.

“Tsukasa-kun wanted me to ask you if you’re ticklish!” Emu spoke with an innocent smile, while said troupe leader smacked himself in the forehead from the corner he was peaking through.

“Fufu~ Is that so? Then why don’t you tell him to find out himself~” Rui shot a playful wink at Tsukasa’s direction, earning a flustered grumble. The blonde had enough and decided to swallow down his pride this once and approach the target.

“C’mon, answer the question” Tsukasa tried to appear stern, placing his hands on his hips, earning another ‘fufu~’ from Rui.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not” he stuck his tongue out cheekily, but before hope was lost, Nene intervened.

“Kamishiro Rui, we both know that’s a lie”

“Ahh okay okay, I admit. But will our dear troupe leader be able to find my tickle spot?~”

This whole mission was supposed to make Rui crumble in laughter, and yet Tsukasa found himself wanting to run away from embarrassment.

No!

He had to stay strong, in the name of research!... Or something like that. With a gulp, he spoke “Challenge accepted”.

After a moment of awkwardly reaching out to Rui, Tsukasa’s hands started to poke and prod at the usual tickle spots. His stomach, his sides, ribs, under his arms, but all he got was that stupid smug smirk that always turned him to goo.

“Oh c’mon! It’s gotta be somewhere!” the blonde groaned in frustration.

“I’d lend you a hand, but I think you’ll get there soon…~” Nene spoke in a slight teasing tone, causing Rui to send her a sheepish glare. His first flustered reaction of the day! But what did Nene mean by that? Could it be…

“Hmm…” Tsukasa trailed his short nails down Rui’s arms, watching as goosebumps arose over the skin. The closer he got to the palm of his hand, the more Rui’s nervous smile grew. “No way, is it your hands?!” Tsukasa spoked in complete fascination, oblivious to how flustered it made Rui feel. He slowly circled his nails all over his palm, causing Rui’s fingers to twitch as he let out soft gasps and quiet giggles to himself.

“I- Aehehe! Yehes, you found it! You can stahap nohohow..!”

Tsukasa’s face morphed to a mischevious grin “Stop? But I still haven’t gotten a genuine laugh out of you!” the troupe leader spoke out in his dramatic theater voice. “Any suggestions from the croud? Hmm… how about you, with the pink hair and overly energetic personality!”.

“Yay!~” Emu cheered as she got closer to Rui’s ticklish hand, inspecting it with pressision. “How about… tickly kisses?!”

“You guhuys there’s no need- EEK?!” Rui’s face instantly flared up at the sudden squeal that rippled out of his throat, causing everyone in the room to stop and look at him, before they all burst out laughing in unison. Even Nene couldn’t hold herself back.

The greenette doubled over in laughter as Emu practically rolled on the floor from glee, while Tsukasa tried to steady himself on Rui’s shoulder.

“Ihi’m sorry! But… you hahave to admit, that was pretty cute~” Tsukasa shot a playful grin to Rui, causing the alchemist’s blush to grow in intensity. “And all tjat from a kiss! I wonder what happens when I…”

“When you- EHEEHEEP?! WAHAIT! TSUKASA! NOHOHO!” Rui giggled and squealed like a child as he felt Tsukasa’s teeth graze the sensitive skin, leaving little nips and kisses wherever he went. The girls watched in awe the show in front of them. After a while, Tsukasa stopped to admire the beauty that was Rui giggling so high-pitched, cheeks fully red, and the brightest smile he had seen from the director ‘till this day.

“I’ll say, this mission was a success!~” Tsukasa pumped his fist into the air with a victorious smile. Although that didn’t last long as he got jabbed in the side, making him squeal in turn.

“How about you, superstar? Any tickle spots?~” Rui grinned down evily. Tsukasa was instantly a blushing and stuttering mess.

“W-wait! Don’t try anything! Nene, Emu, save me‼!” the blonde’s voice fell deaf as it turned into unhinged, obnoxious louder.

“We’re fine from here. Have fun, leader…~” Nene gave a smirk as she and Emu watched this new spectacle unfold.

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#augtickletober2023 #tickletober2033 #project sekai #project sekai tickle #project sekai tickle fic #rui kamishiro #tsukasa tenma #lee!rui #ler!tsukasa

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cheeseceli · 9 days

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House of Cards

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong × Gn!reader

Genre: angst, idol!au, short drabble

Prompt: "A house made of cards and stupidly us inside. Even if you say it's a useless dream, just stay a little more like this"

Warnings: no happy ending

A/n: this was enough to break even me who was writing ngl. I really hope you like it <3 | join the 1k event

When Hongjoong first met you, he thought he created a palace.

You were each other's safe place. No matter what in the outside world could break the walls of said palace. And it was beautiful. Your love would remind him of gardens full of life, of ballrooms filled with music and laughter. It was a love all yours.

However, time would soon show Hongjoong that what he thought was a resilient castle was actually a house of cards. No matter how incredible it looked or how big it seemed to be, it would be fragile no matter what.

He should've been more careful. He knew that even the weakest of breezes could bring his house of cards down, but he forgot it. It looked so great, so permanent, that he didn't look around for any threats, and neither did you.

That's how they found out. The media, the company, the fans... Suddenly everyone knew that the idol Y/n was dating the leader of Ateez. Photos leaked, by God knows who, of you and Hongjoong going out on dates. Without masks, not worried about the surroundings and clearly in love. Sadly, no one cares about that last part.

The talk of the town was about how the couple, the very one Hongjoong considered to be grandiose and marvelous, should not exist. You were in the very beginning of your career - a dating scandal being the last thing you could afford. And he? He was the captain of his team. His life choices could and would have an impact on the rest of his members, wrongfully so.

After a few hours of talk with both his and yours managers, almost everyone came to a consensus: you both should break up. "Fans" were getting angrier by the minute, the gossip was escalating. Neither of you were on top just yet - both were stars ascending. It took little to nothing, a small mistake, to cause you a downfall. He was forced to agree on the end of your relationship.

Now, you were waiting. Waiting for dispatch to tell the media that you were now broken up. Waiting for the managers to post the apology letter - the very one neither you or Hongjoong were able to write as you do not regret falling in love - so the staff had to write the lie themselves.

You were waiting for the house of cards to fall with you both inside of it, as none would willingly let the other behind. Hopefully, one day you'd be able to go back to each other's embrace without hundreds of cameras and commentators around. For now, you hug your love while the tears fall down and the words "I love you" get out of your mouth like a promise.

And you watch as the breeze becomes stronger and takes down the last standing card.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when I was your man

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for image 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#celi 1k event #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez fic #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #Hongjoong scenario #Hongjoong imagines #celi drabble #hongjoong drabble #ateez drabbles

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supermarvel-fics · 2 years

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Tickletober Day 13: Blush

fandom: marvel

word count: 600

pairing: loki x reader (established relationship)

summary: loki searches for any and all things that make you blush

“Hello, darling,” Loki bellowed in that deep, seductive voice of his. He came from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a small kiss on your temple. You blushed at his words and actions, smiling and spinning around to face him.

Loki let a breathy laugh shoot through his nose at the sight of your face, running the pad of his thumb across your cheek. “Is that really all it takes to fluster you?” He asked. You hid your face in his chest, groaning quietly. You had muttered something to him, but it was muffled due to being pressed into his shirt. “I didn’t hear a word you just said, dove.”

You pulled back and looked up again, your eyes locking onto his vibrant blue ones. “I said that I can’t help it. It’s a natural reaction.”

“Well, it’s adorable. One of my favorite things about you,” Loki professed, leaning down to kiss you softly. You accepted it with eagerness, your face continuously growing warmer.

It had become a little game for Loki—finding things that caused you to blush in that endearing way that made him want to scoop you into his arms and squeeze you tight. He loved watching your cheeks turn pink as a shy smile rose to your face.

Loki found that the easiest way was to call you a pet name. ‘Darling’ got the best reaction, but he swore he wouldn’t say it too often lest you get used to it and stop blushing. Another sure-fire way was complimenting you. It could be just about anything; how your clothes accentuated your body, how beautiful your smile was, how swiftly you could take down enemies. Loki complimented you at least once a day just to watch your face change shades.

And recently, he’d added one more to his list of way to make you blush. It was purely an accident—Loki’s fingers squeezed your side a bit too hard when he hugged you from behind, causing you to squeak and buckle away from his hand. You instantly knew what had happened, your face turning red in response. Hopefully, Loki hadn’t—

“Ticklish, darling?” Loki asked impishly, only making your cheeks grow warmer in embarrassment. His head twisted over your shoulder to be able to see you, but you turned it the other way. “You cannot hide those blushing cheeks from me, dear, I can practically feel the heat radiating off of them.”

Without warning, Loki wiggled his fingers into your side with the intent to make it tickle, holding you tighter to his chest when you jolted and tried moving away. Giggling, you whined, “Lohokihi!”

“How delightful this is!” He boasted as he lifted you off the ground to carry you into the common room, sitting down on the couch with you in his lap. The entire journey, you were squirming, begging Loki not to exploit this little fact. “I can’t give up such a perfect opportunity to see you smile and laugh, love. Not to mention you’re blushing like crazy.

Loki twisted you on his lap and pushed you flat on your back so that he could see you better, wasting no time in scratching at your belly. Your eyes squeezed shut in ticklish laughter and your arms moved to block his access. “Lohoki! Wahahait!”

“You’re positively radiant, dove. I can’t stop now!” He teased, prodding into your ribs. Your face felt as if it were on fire with Loki complimenting you, calling you a pet name, and tickling you senseless.

But you were okay with it because you knew that Loki was inexcusably in love with you.

#marvel #marvel tickle #tickle prompts #mcu #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #ler!loki #loki tickle #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #tickle fic #tickle drabble #sfw tickle fic #augtickletober2022 #tickletober prompts #tickletober2022

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belit0 · 10 months

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can you do a yandere madara who’s like closed off and reserved from his wife but eventually she gives up and he’s like oh ur not leaving! omg this sounds dumb asffff

Oh, don't even say this is dumb! If there's an Uchiha I can totally picture as a Yandere, it's definitely Madara, so this was fun!

TW: Yandere! Madara

Pairing: Uchiha Madara / reader

Despite being an arranged marriage, (Y/N) was genuinely excited to be paired with one of the strongest shinobi in the world. It wasn't just his legend she was drawn to, but the beauty this man carried. How could one be so handsome and powerful at the same time?

When the proposal came to her village, her father was quick to respond, unable to turn down the opportunity to marry his firstborn to one of the most influential men in the five nations. To have the Uchiha as allies, more so, as a family, was an opportunity only a fool would turn down.

As soon as the arrangements were made, (Y/N) was sent to their lands to embark on her new destiny, having to live with a man she had never seen in person. Nothing stopped her from keeping positive thoughts, visualizing the wonderful future she would lead with the head of the largest clan in the country.

She was greeted with a warm welcome from the entire village except for Madara.

The man she was supposed to love for eternity simply waved at her from afar, complied with all the formalities, was present at the wedding, and disappeared completely. Not caring if (Y/N) was all alone in an unknown land and far from her family, he chose to keep busy with his duties as leader rather than spend time with her.

He would arrive late at night when she was already asleep, and leave early in the mornings before she woke up, (Y/N) would hopefully bump into him at some point during the day, while walking around the village or socializing with whomever she encountered.

It became a very lonely situation, the opposite of what she thought she would experience being here. She ended up as the pretty doll of the headman, who barely spoke to her.

All her obligations, as her father had instructed her, were fulfilled, and she avoided causing a scene about her situation just so as not to bring conflict to her family. She did not feel comfortable enough with anyone to discuss what was troubling her, having minimal and general contact with the women of the clan, and none with the men, who stayed away from her out of respect for their leader.

It all culminated in chaos when they had to attend her brother-in-law's birthday party. Izuna was celebrating in splendor, throwing a party for everyone in the family at the central house, and not skimping on food or drink. Everyone would celebrate along with him on a magnificent night, full of light, fun, and fire.

(Y/N) was adorned and dressed in luxurious and expensive clothes, things she would have marveled at long ago had she not been going through what she was currently enduring. "Lord Madara sent these to you, Madam (Y/N). He hopes they are to your liking." Reported the maid who was helping her dress and beautify herself.

She had been there for three months, and it was the first gesture the Uchiha had made to her. What infuriated her the most, was the man not even deigning to hand them to her, as if he wanted to avoid her at all costs. Did he hate her? Did he sacrifice himself in marriage as a political move, with no hope of getting anything positive out of the experience? Did he even want her there?

A million questions ran through her mind daily, and receiving that gorgeous attire simply triggered more. (Y/N) could not utter a word on the matter, allowing her maid to help her in silence. She finished getting ready when the night was well advanced, and the birthday boy was supposed to finally announce his presence with a triumphant entrance.

Izuna's orders required Madara to be there watching him play out his scene, and that meant, according to the policy of their marriage, so did she. As appearances and laws demanded, she would sit like a precious puppet, smiling vacantly and interacting with whoever approached her, feigning happiness and gratitude to her husband.

Thus, she spent most of the evening perched next to her husband at the main table, eating and watching as everyone wanted to be near him, trying to generate conversation about even the simplest things.

At some point in the night, when almost everyone was already drunk, Izuna decided to say some special words of appreciation. He called for everyone to gather around him, and requested Madara's presence at his side.

(Y/N) expected him to at least pretend, take her by the hand and invite her to join her in the center of the meeting with his younger brother, but to no avail. The man simply stood and ignored her completely, smiling at Izuna. The crowd cheered for him and everyone applauded, closing the circle as the two brothers hugged and laughed at the night protagonist’s drunken words.

She decided enough was enough. It was one thing to ignore her in private and keep up appearances in public for everyone to trust in their romantic and perfect relationship. It was something else entirely to disregard her in front of everyone, not even validating her presence at his side, not recognizing her as his wife in front of an event as important as someone's birthday in the family.

Shut away and forgotten at the edge of the limelight, she decided that was it. She would sneak off and lock herself in the room they were both supposed to share and write a letter to be sent immediately to her father, in hopes he would understand the situation, and allow her to continue the marriage from afar, from the happiness of her home.

It's not like the Uchiha would care if she was there or not, having scorned and neglected her since her arrival. They probably shared the most eye contact at their wedding, with the man not even bothering to consummate their marriage. Madara avoided getting into bed with her, disappearing into the evening festivities.

(Y/N) slipped away slyly, ignoring the curious glances directed at her. She was almost at the door, when one of her maids called out to her, "Madam (Y/N)! Where are you going in such a hurry? Aren't you enjoying the party?"

Despite the ambient noise, people shouting and laughing, and all the chaos of the celebration, the girl felt a pair of special eyes boring into the back of her head. Meters away and among all the family separating them, Madara was staring intently.

She felt apprehensive about those black orbs, his invasive and violent gaze, and had the urge to run, to hide where he couldn't find her.

Ignoring him, (Y/N) made a successful exit, making her way to the privacy of her chamber. She set to work immediately, looking for paper and ink to write. Halfway through her letter, she heard the sliding bedroom door open, and footsteps approaching her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing (Y/N)?" The first time her husband had articulated more than two words in a sentence to her. He caught her in the act, making her scratch the paper with an unplanned line of ink.

"So, you know my name, I'm impressed..." She was trying to maintain the appearance of a strong woman, stand up to the man everyone fears, and not be intimidated. Her lucky attempt ended when the Uchiha lifted her by the arm, pushing her away from the desk and slamming her against the wall.

He enclosed her in his arms, leaning dangerously close to her personal space. "You're going to stop acting like a spoiled brat and face the reality of your new life. You're not going anywhere, and if you try to escape, your family's village will be reduced to ashes by my own hands."

He kissed her hard, catching her off guard and forcibly, (Y/N) wasn't sure whether to shift her face or give in, but Madara's momentum left her no choice but to take it and reciprocate. She finally got what she had longed for, but at what cost?

"You don't want me here, you don't desire me as a woman, you don't see me as a wife, you won't even talk to me or look at me!" Her eyes filled with tears, humiliated in front of the man who should love her.

"Things don't work the way you want them because I call the shots, I dictate how everything works. You will be my beautiful wife and you will open your legs when I want you to like the good woman you are, otherwise, I will force them open for you. Fuck, maybe we'll even love each other at some point. Behave yourself, (Y/N)."

With the end of his statement, he lifts her into the air, scooping her up in his arms and tossing her carelessly onto the bed.

"Now, let's finally consummate this marriage, shall we?"

#madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto #uchiha clan #naruto x reader #naruto scenarios

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raggydraws · 4 months

Text

This Reminds me of College

Surya and Tabatha attempting to teach themselves Merikih to varying degrees of success Tags: Surya & Farmer, Potentially OOC, Tabatha has ADHD and is HYPERFOCUSED on Merfolk, Surya and Tabby are best friends, Author doesn't write often please be nice, HC: Surya knows about the Merfolk because that lab is small and there's no way he doesn't, an attempt at Indonesian words, Gen Fic, Surya and Tabby are both smart individuals but hanging out with your friends can and will kill brain cells for the lols, No Beta we die like Pufferfish, Merikih is italicized

If Dr. Jiang had tried to keep the existence of merfolk from Surya; she hadn’t tried very hard. Given the fact he’d been standing right behind her, also looking through the monitor eyes of Kibble, when Tabatha had stumbled upon two of them didn’t help.

Of course he immediately swore himself to secrecy about them, Dr. Jiang, er, Ling as she insisted, hadn’t even gotten the chance to argue why they shouldn’t go blathering about it to the whole island. It just made sense not to. Her entire research basis, the solar pillars and the super corals, hells, the oil spill itself and the presence of the monstrous company that caused it in his new home alone kept his mouth shut.

Talk and innocent people would probably die. Morbid.

Plus it would’ve really put a dent into the bet about Dr. Ling he had going with Tabatha.

The farmer in question had also resurfaced and crossed town in record time to come yell their own arguments about keeping a closed lid on the existence of merfolk. How they had done so when Surya had seen them get winded walking upstairs would forever be a mystery to him.

But they’d all gotten through it, swore themselves to never speak of it again, especially if this were a one off thing, although Dr. Ling took Tabatha’s diving suit in for an upgrade in the off chance this wasn't a fluke.

Which eventually led to Surya standing on his friend’s porch with a pot of lodeh and his old college textbook on dead languages. He let himself look over their garden plots as he waited for the brunet to answer the door, marveling at how much automation they’d managed to set up in such little time. Six plots with small, albeit makeshift, sprinklers with two much larger plots that Tabatha likely had to water by hand themselves, all with little budding plants just waiting to grow and be harvested. Surya was impressed, remembering his Paman Joko mentioning that their neighbor had either already had a hand in farming or at the least had gardened quite a bit before moving here. He mentally took note of the plot with young melon vines just beginning to sprout, wondering if he could convince Tabatha to part with one or two once they were fully ripe, before the door to the cabin swung open.

“Surya! Welcome, welcome, come in watch your step-” Tabatha ushered him inside with a bright smile, quickly shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, don’t want all the cold air getting out.”

“Oh, did your walls not get re-insulated when Bibi and Paman gutted the place?” Surya asked, setting his pot of lodeh onto the rickety fold out table set up in their small living space.

“Oh no I’m sure they did, it’s just a habit from living in shitty Pokyo apartments.”

“Ah.”

Tabatha locked the door, likely another habit from previously living in a crowded metropolitan area, and joined him at the table with an eager grin.

“Thanks for bringing food by the way, I would’ve made something but,” They gesture sheepishly and vaguely to their barebones cabin. “I still don’t have a lot to work with at the moment.”

“Of course, it’s no trouble. Hopefully Bibi can get a kitchen set up for you soon.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The two sat down to eat, exchanging pleasantries and talking about their days apart. Tabatha only volunteered part time at the lab, carving out time for cleaning sights around coral reefs between their farm and also getting used to their new community. Surya would go days without seeing the tall brunet, only for them to show up to the lab soaking wet and with enough kelp to power a small generator, and the two would easily slip back into jokes and banter before disappearing from sight again. It was safe to say that Tabatha was one of the two friends that he had, and he was honestly all the more glad to have them. Soon enough they finished their dinner and tucked away any leftovers in whatever tubberware Tabatha had laying around, finally moving onto the actual reason Surya had come over in the first place.

Teaching themselves a presumably dead language, because Dr. Ling refused to do so.

Because it would be useful! Because you never knew what could happen and what if Surya needed to dive with Tabatha one day and didn’t have a built-in translator? What if the merfolk came to them? It totally wasn't because this was the most unbelievable thing that's ever happened to anyone, ever. Or the fact that Dr. Ling knew way more than she was letting on but wouldn’t tell them.

And it definitely wasn’t because Surya was a man of science and Tabatha was riddled with ADHD and this was their new, shared hyperfixation.

It wasn’t.

Neither of them knew what the language was actually called yet, and Surya hesitated to dub it “Atlantis” due to their location, which spurred Tabatha into giving a surprisingly informed rant about how Atlantis was actually more likely to be based on a mix of a volcanic event in the Mediterranean and Plato spouting bullshit than a real civilization that fell below the waves. It reminded him that Tabatha was a lot more smart than they let on, somewhat downplaying their intelligence for the sake of their self imposed title of ‘Lab Thembo’.

Tabatha retrieved the regulator mask of their diving suit, strapping it into place as Surya began flipping through his old textbook and getting out a fresh, blank notebook. They wouldn’t be able to write down any actual words or an alphabet, as all the pictures they did have of the language were on Kibble’s hard drive and the little robot was sitting in the lab at the moment. But they would write down similar vowels or repeating patterns and also have it for the excuse that this was for science and not shits n giggles, should Dr. Ling happen to stumble upon it.

“Alright, you ready Suri?” Tabatha asked, fitting the regulator over their mouth as Surya gave them the go ahead. The brunet breathed deeply, making sure the gear didn’t interrupt their airways while not attached to any tanks before speaking as clearly as they could.

“Can you hear me?” Their voice cycled through the speaker with a warm crackle, and Surya frowned in disappointment.

“Loud and clear…in English.”

Tabatha grimaced in confusion and removed the regulator, eyebrows lifting into their hairline once they realized that they had forgotten to turn the translator on. Flipping the slider to ‘ON’ the brunet put their gear back into place and Surya eagerly waited to hear the elusive language of real life merfolk.

“What about now?”

The words were strung together in a lilting, rhythmic pattern and it made Surya pause, blinking in surprise at how pretty it sounded. It also almost sounded familiar somehow, his first thought being something akin to Latin or even his own native language. It definitely was different enough for him not to pick it up right away but close enough that it pinged in his brain as something he should recognize.

“Oh wow.”

“Is it working, Surya?”

“No idea what you just said!” He cheered, practically beaming as he scribbled down their first new findings. Tabatha cheered as well, their voice coming out of the translator as a bright, elongated tone akin to a lofty held note in a song.

They sat on Tabatha’s floor for what felt like hours, simply babbling sing-song like words back and forth between themselves. At some point the young man found himself sprawled across the wood floor to stretch out his legs, while Tabatha happily rambled on about something he couldn’t understand, only the occasional word standing out as it went untranslated. Surya recorded some of the basic sentences, sending them to Tabatha’s phone for the two to practice later when the mask started hurting for the brunet to continue wearing. They shook their head after peeling it off, huffing in annoyance as fluffy brown hair fell into their eyes. Surya snorted.

“I need a damn haircut.” Tabatha said, blowing a raspberry at Surya while simultaneously spitting hair out of their mouth. Their eyes then widened for a second, scrambling to their feet in haste and practically running over to their wardrobe. Surya lifted himself off the floor, leaning back on his hands with a laugh at his friend.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I got an idea!” They exclaimed, pulling the rest of the diving suit from the sparsely occupied dresser. “Did you bring a swimsuit or anything?”

“Uh, no?” Now sitting cross-legged and watching with a bit of worry as Tabatha ran into their tiny bathroom. “Why?” The plan had just been to see if they could glean anything from the translator and hang out while doing so. The thought of needing his swimming trunks or his own diving suit hadn’t crossed his mind once.

“You’ll see!” Came the muffled reply from the bathroom. A minute or two passed and Surya used the time to pick up the small mess of paper and pens they’d made on the floor. “Alright get in here! Bring the mask too!”

“Uh,” Surya lifted himself from the floor, scooping up the regulator as he did and reluctantly walked over to the bathroom door. “Are you decent?” He felt silly for asking and sillier for the probably obvious flush creeping up his neck.

This was probably why his Bibi Dinda and Paman Joko kept throwing him ‘looks’ every time he went to hang out with Tabatha. The farmer had no time or formality with social cues or implications. It was impulses and ‘I’ll deal with it later’ all the way down with this one.

The door opened and Tabatha’s head poked out from the threshold with a wry grin.

“No, I'm completely naked Suri.” They deadpanned as they spread out an obviously full covered arm from the doorway. Surya threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“Be a gentleman somewhere else we don’t have time for that,” Tabatha grabbed the mask from him and disappeared back into the bathroom. “Now. Get. In. Here.”

Surya rolled his eyes fondly and stepped into the bathroom.

He burst out laughing immediately.

Tabatha stood in their small, honestly kind of sad, shower in their full diving suit, sans air tanks, with their hand on the faucet. Surya immediately knew what they were going to do. He’d seen an old college roommate do the same thing to clean his diving suit after accidentally swimming into a cloud of algae.

Tabatha’s eyes crinkled with a tell-tell sign of them grinning, as well as they could, with the regulator covering their mouth and turned the faucet on.

Surya couldn’t fucking breathe.

“W-wha-what are you doing??” He managed to gasp out between bursts of laughter, wiping the tears forming in his eyes at the sight before him. Tabatha shrugged, answering in that sing-song language again that now sounded a little like they were gargling with the shower head on. Surya gasped for air, intermittently broken up by short fits of giggles as he tried to calm himself down. The brunet turned the faucet off and pulled the regulator away from their face, spitting out any stray water that had found its way past the haphazardly put-on mechanism.

“So,” They asked after giving Surya another moment to gasp down air. “Did that sound any different?”

“Is THAT what you were doing?”

“Duh!” The brunet gasped, absentmindedly tossing a hand out and covering Surya’s feet in water. “I remember it sounding different when I was fully submerged.”

“So you got into your shower to test that?”

“...I might’ve only just now remembered that I have a pond…”

“Oh my goddess Tabby,” Surya looked down forlornly at his now wet socks. “Is that why you asked if I brought my swim trunks?”

“...yes.”

“And you immediately got into your shower??”

“YES, SHUT UP!”

Surya was very lucky he was near the door when he started laughing again as Tabatha flung as much water at him as they could. After calming down again and much apologies, the two gathered up some gear and wandered outside to the closest pond on Tabatha's property. The summer evening was warm enough to be comfortable even without a proper wetsuit on, but Surya still lamented that his socks were now uncomfortably squishy. Tabatha offered to hang them out to dry and he declined, deciding that if he stepped on something hard then that was just how it had to be.

With towels, water-proof recording gear, an old pair of swim trunks Tabatha let him barrow and the brunet all put shoving their diver’s goggles over his head, the two sat on the small wooden platform that hung over the nearest pond. Even though it was attached to one of the many streams that ran through Coral Island, they determined that current wouldn’t be strong enough to pull himself or Tabatha in and therefore deemed it safe enough for a little free diving.

Surya let Tabatha fall backwards into the pond first and followed suit when a thumbs up broke the surface. The water was cool against his skin and the pond, while small, was big enough and deep enough that the two of them could stand with only having to squat a little bit. He sat for a moment to enjoy it before Tabatha called over to him with the sing-song language.

“Hello! Fancy seeing you here~” Their eyes crinkled, smiling under the mask as Surya recognized the ‘Hello’ but not the rest.

“Hello!” He replied back clumsily, water filling his mouth briefly. The language carried through the water just as well, if not better, than it did in the air and still with the same pretty, melodic tone. They both resurfaced briefly, Surya to spit the water out of his mouth and Tabatha mostly to gather more air and ask if he was alright before they submerged again.

Once again they swapped words back and forth, practicing simple ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’, ‘how are you’ ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’ until they could repeat the words without having to think about strange rising and falling of the vowels. Eventually they resurfaced for the last time, as the sun began to fully set and their muscles ached from keeping themselves in place under the water. But they continued without the translator, practicing their tone and pronunciation without the safety net of Dr. Ling’s mysterious handiwork. By the time the two saw fit to finally towel themselves dry and head back to Tabatha’s cabin, it was late and Surya felt fairly confident in his barebones basics of the merfolk language.

“Did you wanna take the rest of the lodeh home with you?”

“No, that's for you! I don’t want my friend starving before they get a kitchen.”

Tabatha huffed a small laugh, wrapping their arms around his middle and squeezing him tightly, butting their head gently against his shoulder. Surya returned the hug, patting them on the back before stepping away and heading towards his Bibi’s and Paman’s home in the forest. He’d return home later than intended with still damp hair, wet socks and borrowed board shorts, staving off Archie’s questions for the next morning and rolling his eyes at another one of his Bibi’s ‘looks’ before heading to his room and collapsing into bed.

He dreams of song-like languages and fish-tailed people below the waves.

#HI PLEASE BE NICE I DON'T WRITE OFTEN AND I DEFFINETLY DON'T SHARE IT SO #ENJOY #coral island #coral island fanfic #coral island surya #coral island farmer #Farmer Tabatha #fanfiction #Raggy's writing

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