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txemrn · 3 years

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In your hc, did Brynn have any strong cravings or aversions during her pregnancy from the mother's day fic?? How did Sam handle that??? I hope he wasn't a dickhead like with the other pregnancy when he cheated and gave her an STD. 😒

I was just thinking 👉👈🥺😇 that might be a cute little story. 😉

Btw I really enjoy reading about them!!! I'd L💗VE more. HINT proposal??? WEDDING?????

Hey, there! *big ol' hugs* thank you so much for the ask and the "hints". 🤣😂🤣 I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your suggestion! And yes, there is more to come from Sam and Brynn. Enjoy! 🍨🍓🍨

Warning: NSFW 🍋 (tiny little squirts; don't get too excited); language; angst; pregnancy-related stuff

***

The sparkle of fresh winter snow gathers along the window sill. A hint of gingerbread and fresh spruce waltz in the air. Melting with the smokey notes of kindled embers, the fireplace crackles in the darkened master suite--the only lively room left in the penthouse for the evening.

It had been an exhausting Friday. With Christmas and Brynn’s birthday next week, the Dalton family spent their day tirelessly getting things prepared before a very special winter vacation. Brynn attended Mickey and Mason’s holiday party at school, bringing her famous cupcakes and oven-baked Chex Mix, not to mention presents for all the teachers and faculty.

Because of the school’s early release, Brynn and the boys met Sam for lunch, where they served the entire company a catered, bountiful holiday meal, complete with generous congratulatory swag for another successful third year.

Sam spent the afternoon on phone conferences, which gave him time to pack up to work remotely from home; he wouldn’t be returning until the 28th. By the late afternoon, they had completed the grocery shopping, tidied up their home, fixed and ate dinner.

But for Sam and Brynn, the jam-packed day was far from over. There was still one more very important task to complete: sex. And lots of it.

Seductive whispers, tender giggles and lustful moans penetrate the quiet suite. Their exposed bodies hungrily intertwine together as their movements are kept rhythmically in time with the subtle creaking of the bed.

Sam grips tightly to his wife’s supple breast, brushing his thumbs over her erect pink nipples. With her left hand, Brynn sinks her nails onto the top of his hand, squeezing together with him; her other hand holds tightly to the headboard, straddling her thighs on top of her husband’s hips.

“Oh, God! Sam!” she exhales with each thrust onto his swelling, hardened girth, her voice becoming louder, more raspy. “Almost--! Almost--!”

“Brynn--! I--!” With one final buck of his hips, Sam spills over into euphoria. His fingers quickly drop to her voluptuous assets. He clenches savagely to her curves, pushing her drenched, tightening center to his hilt. Sweat drips off his brow as indistinguishable groans wail from his throat.

Watching her husband come undone teases Brynn’s own release. Tossing her almond locks over her bare shoulders, she is taken captive by the sensations tickling her voracious desires. She rocks her hips against Sam’s buried length, stroking her throbbing clit through her incessant waves of reckless ecstasy. Thunderous moans of pleasure escape her mouth as she gasps for a drink of air.

Almost too terrified to disturb the perfect moment, the couple savors the quietness of them simply being together, their hearts beating in-time, connecting as one.

“I love you, baby,” Sam whispers, breaking the silence as he gently massages Brynn’s thighs. His hands intimately roam, carefully finding their way to stroke her fully-blossomed pregnant belly.

A bright smile effortlessly spreads across her face. “I love you, too, baby.” Her delicate fingers meet his. She lifts his hand to her lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses.

“Hopefully,” he chuckles, “that’ll do the trick.”

She cradles her abdomen. “I can only hope so,” she titters, her fingers caressing her abdomen as she talks to their unborn child. “That was another eviction notice, precious one--”

Brynn and Sam had a preterm labor scare at 33 weeks, which landed Brynn in the hospital for a week being pumped with various medications to stop her contractions. She was discharged home, with the instructions to “take it easy.” Though it isn’t ideal to have a baby this early, her team of doctors agreed they weren’t going to do anything to stop her labor if it were to happen again.

Tomorrow, Brynn will be 41 weeks. For the past two weeks, she has been trying every trick in the book to go into labor. Her lab technician Meaghan swore by spicy food; that only gave Brynn ungodly heartburn. Lydia, the Dalton’s downstairs neighbor, gifted Brynn a bottle of castor oil; she spent a solid two days with uncontrollable diarrhea and belly aches. Carter’s wife gave Brynn a special tea blend; she would contract, but nothing painful; she actually fell asleep because of the delicious steep.

Then, there was her mother's advice:

“You’ve gotta have sex, Brynny--”

“Mom--!”

“--and I’m not talking about the mediocre, ‘are you done yet?’ , making-your-shopping-list-in-your-head kind. You need to orgasm--”

“Jesus Christ, Mom--!”

“You need his semen--”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now--”

“And fondle your breasts. Better yet, let him do it! Now you might leak a little, so if you have him suckle--”

*click*

“Brynny? Brynny?”

“I, for one, am not minding this eviction process--”

“Samuel!” she playfully slaps against Sam’s broad chest. Blocking her hits and laughing, Sam finally grabs Brynn, pulling her body down next to his. He wraps his arms around her, brushing his lips against her temple. He rests his large hands on her gravid belly, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Are you okay, babe?”

“Mhmm--” Brynn snuggles into Sam’s embrace, closing her eyes. “Just perfect, babe. G’night.”

“Night, baby.”

The delightful pops of the fireplace lulls Sam to sleep; Brynn, however, started having trouble. She turned to her right side, but soon flipped to her left side. When that didn’t get her comfortable, she sat up on the side of the bed, massaging her back and her abdomen.

“Brynn baby,” yawns Sam, “you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, babe.”

“It’s-k.” Sam fluffs his pillow under his head, keeping his eyes closed. “Contractions?” he slurs.

“Braxton Hicks. I’ll be fine. You go back to--”

Sam lets out a satisfied snore before Brynn can finish her sentence. Tickled, she tucks her husband into bed before she slips on a silk robe. Pulling out her exercise ball from the closet, she sits on top of it in hopes that rocking her hips will bring her some comfort.

She suddenly stops, clutching her chest. An all-too-familiar jolt of burning shoots through her belly leaving an unbearable sour sensation clawing at the back of her throat. Carefully balancing herself to a stand, she retreats to the bathroom for medicine. And to vomit.

“Brynn? Brynn?”

“I’m in here,” her pitiful voice echoes through the bathroom.

Sam slips on a pair of sweats, hurrying to her side in the water closet. Seeing his wife crumpled over the toilet, he drops to her side, pushing her hair behind her ears before rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispers gravelly.

“No, you’re not,” he tenderly touches her clammy cheek. “What do you need, babe?”

Brynn leans back, sitting her rear on the cold tile. Embracing her body as another contraction subsides, she quietly states, “I need ice cream.”

Sam’s eyes widen with surprise at the request. “You want… ice cream?”

“Mhmm,” she nods. “That would feel so good against my throat.”

“Okay, baby,” he chuckles, brushing his thumb across swollen lips. “Is there a certain flavor--?”

“Strawberry,” she barks, “it needs to be strawberry.”

Sam kisses her forehead, and jogs to the kitchen in search of his wife’s favorite ice cream. Scooping up three massive balls into a bowl, he returns to the bathroom with two spoons.

“Strawberry ice cream, m’lady!” He sits on the floor with her, presenting the cold dessert like a trophy.

Brynn observes the creamy pink heap. She slowly takes the spoon, poking at the frozen treat. She watches her husband take a bite of it first before she reluctantly tries it.

“No,” she spits out her small bite, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Perplexed, Sam spoons another bite for himself. “Is there something wrong with it? Is it freezer burned or--?”

“No, no,” Brynn’s eyes begin to well with tears. “It’s just not strawberry enough,” she sniffles.

“Okay, babe, there’s no crying in ice cream,” he chuckles, wiping at her eyes.

“I think it’s because I want strawberry ice cream.”

“Honey, this is strawberry ice cream.”

“This is strawberries and cream.” She uses her spoon as a pointer, “See how there’s vanilla and strawberry with pieces of strawberry? I just," she sighs, "I need strawberry ice cream.”

Staring at the wall, Sam pretends to understand his wife’s request. “Of course, baby. I’ll go get, um--” he clears his throat to keep from laughing, “the strawberry ice cream.”

“Hey, Sam?”

“Mhmm?”

“I love you, baby.” She offers a toothy smile.

He chuckles. “Love you, too,” he shakes his head with a coy smile.

Sam returns with another heaping mound of strawberry ice cream. “Alright, baby, just what you asked for: strawberry ice cream.”

“Sam,” irritation saturates Brynn’s voice as it begins to tremble. “This has strawberry pieces in it.”

“It’s because it’s strawberry ice cream,” Sam bites his tongue, watching his words carefully as he gnashes his teeth. “It’s exactly what you asked for, sweetheart.”

Brynn hangs her head in her hands as she sobs. “I wanted strawberry ice cream, not strawberry with strawberries ice cream!”

“Babe, are you fucking kidding me right--?”

“Don’t yell at me!” Brynn begins to sob harder.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam sputters. He runs his hands down his face, letting out a sigh. He sits down next to his wife, taking her in his arms. “How can we fix this? Can you maybe eat around the strawberries?”

“It just,” her breath hangs tight in her throat as she tries to control her tears, “it doesn’t taste the same.”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” he mutters under his breath. He sighs heavily again. “What can I do, Brynn? Tell me what to do.”

“I just want strawberry ice cream--”

“No. What. Do. You. Want?” He grabs his cell phone. “Show me.”

She does a quick google search, pulling up a plain pink custard with strawberry flavoring--no pieces. “This. I need this. Please.”

“Brynn, we don’t have this here.”

“There’s a 7-11 two blocks away--”

“It’s eighteen degrees outside.” Sam shakes his head, as he walks back to bed. “No, this is getting fucking ridiculous.”

Brynn glares at the spot where her husband once stood, her eyebrows furrowing; warm streams of tears downpour on her cheeks. Red patches of skin grow across her neck and face as her breathing labors.

“Samuel!” When he doesn’t answer, she carefully balances herself from the ground and waddles into their room. “Samuel!”

“What?” his muffled words slur as he buries his head into a pillow. “I just need a little sleep.”

“Oh, you need a little sleep? You?” Brynn rips the duvet off of Sam, her small body shaking in anger. “I have given up my body for ten fucking months to grow a baby, an actual human being that will more than likely rip me to pieces just to,” she chuckles sarcastically, “look like you!”

“Brynn, I--”

“I’m not fucking done!” She breathes through another contraction, stepping closer to her terrified husband. “I have not complained once, and yet I have given up every ounce of my dignity. I can’t control my farts. I can't control my pee. I’m growing rolls and stretch marks in places that I never even knew a person could grow them!” She steps even closer, her eyes darkening. “I fuck you multiple times weekly--sometimes daily--where I hide the embarrassment that my hot, chiseled husband is staring at either my double chin or my fat, stretch-marked ass--”

“Baby, I don’t--”

Brynn holds up a finger. “I reverse cowgirl you until my legs cramp because you like it. I suck your dick off because you like it--”

“I thought that--”

“I just want some strawberry ice cream, Sam!” she sobs, “And then maybe you can get some sleep!” Brynn cradles her abdomen as another wave of discomfort grips around her belly.

Sam sits on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Fine”

“And I need to come with you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam sarcastically scoffs. He slinks on a long-sleeve shirt before grabbing his coat. He turns back to his wife who is grabbing her coat. “Um, no,” he chuckles. “I need you stay here and just relax--”

“No, we’re going together.”

Frustrated with the conversation, Sam darts his eyes around the room, trying not to yell. “Why, Brynn?”

“Because--”

“‘Because’ why, Brynn?”

“Because my water just broke.”

***

@ao719 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @forallthatitsworth @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @pixie88 @sfb123 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @secretaryunpaid @thefrenchiemama

#the nanny affair #m!sam dalton #m!sam x mc #pregnancy #choices stories you play #choices tna

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 3 years

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Here’s a silly little thing I did on request for @crunadh for the prompt “Healing”. What if love has actually healing powers – or at least Geralt believes it does?

2.183 words, Rated T, read under the cut or on AO3

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, right there. Go ahead, uh... don't stop... a little harder..."

"You're embarrassing," Emhyr muttered, but he actually didn't stop. His hands vigorously kneaded Geralt's back, and the latter's muscles responded to it like butter to sunshine.

"The word you're looking for is enthusiastic," Geralt replied with a groan. "Who knew you were so good at it? You're a natural. Oh, yeah, right there!"

"We have servants for that sort of thing," Emhyr returned.

But he still didn't stop. His fingers squeezed with just the proper hardness to relieve all the tension his spouse had gotten after his training. The same had probably been right by stating that even a horse needed regular exercise and that he needed to resume it. The comparison seemed somehow indecent to Emhyr, but in the end, it was probably apt – a witcher without exercise was useless, and if he had to compare it to anything, it was perhaps to a well-trained soldier, whose skills would rust without regular training. Oh, all these comparisons were useless because in front of him on the bed, completely naked and with tangled hair, lay his husband, and he knew exactly what this sight did to him.

"That's right," smirked the latter now. "But you like it. You like it so much that you..."

He uttered the last words in Nilfgaardian, another thing he had begun to practice again lately. This earned him a hearty slap on the backside.

"Your pronunciation of arse leaves much to be desired."

"Maybe so, but you have healing hands," Geralt growled delightedly underneath him. "You will find..."

He suddenly fell silent. Emhyr, who had noticed that even Geralt's buttocks were tense and had begun to loosen them with a vigorous kneading, asked irritably, "What?"

Deft as a snake, Geralt wriggled around under Emhyr's dexterous hands, accidentally presenting a first success of the latter's efforts.

"You know," he said, unusually serious, "you actually have the ability to make me feel better when you touch me."

Emhyr snorted. If there was one thing Geralt was not, it was romantic; and he had not for a moment supposed that this desire for a post-exercise massage had any meaning other than a new form of foreplay that his witcher loved so passionately.

"It's true," Geralt protested, "healing hands."

"Oh, really?"

Emhyr thought this was nothing more than a strange but somehow cute form of dirty talking, and wordlessly he brushed off his dressing gown.

Geralt's eyes lit up on his reply, "Let me show you what these hands can heal."

-:¦:-

A few days later, their breakfast was graced by Ciri's presence, who was now back in the palace more often and had begun to take a renewed interest in her future duties. Her morning greeting faltered when she noticed Emhyr's left hand resting on one of Geralt's thighs.

"I beseech you, at breakfast? You can't keep pulling the young married couple card all the time."

Geralt merely grinned, but Emhyr, on whose stoic countenance her insolence bounced that morning, calmly brought the teacup to his mouth and took a sip before answering.

"The leg is aching," he simply replied, and Ciri's expression became compassionate.

The effects of multiple fractures and magical healing were more noticeable some days than others, she knew this, and so Ciri asked with interest, "And that helps?"

"Sometimes," Geralt said. Then he grinned again. "I've told your father before that he has healing hands, but he won't hear of it."

Ciri screwed up her face as if he had made a dirty joke, but then she suddenly mused, "You know, there might even be something to it. I once read about how lovers can actually develop healing abilities when they interact with each other."

"That's nonsense," said Triss, who had just entered the room.

"Well, in this case, I guess you can talk about relief as a priority, but what if there's something to it? Love can release endorphins..."

"Healing is due to the body's own substances, which can be triggered with magic, but certainly not by love," Triss said, and thereupon a somewhat heated discussion broke out between the two, which soon encompassed utterly different topics.

-:¦:-

The matter was forgotten for a while as everyday life had a grip on them, but like flashlights, it brought itself back to mind repeatedly. Such as when Emhyr – which, given his idiosyncrasy of often poring over papers in an uncomfortable pose until late at night occurred not so rarely – experienced a headache. Geralt, who had already tried in vain hours ago to lure him away from this work to get some rest, had put his hands on his husband's cramped shoulders, pressed a kiss on the back of his head, and looked over his shoulders.

"That can wait until tomorrow," he said firmly.

And Emhyr, quite contrary to his habits of not being distracted from a task, had actually put down the quill, laid back his head, and let his spouse handle his shoulders. Geralt had to think of the countless times Emhyr's presence, his touch, the mere feeling of his hands in his had given him a sense of relief.

"There is something to it after all," he said thoughtfully.

"Hmm?"

"Healing hands," Geralt replied, "What if that really works? On both sides?"

"Don't be silly. There's nothing healing about it. Your fingers just happen to rest on neuralgic points and cut off the pain supply, that's science, Geralt."

Despite the pretentious tone, Geralt had heard exactly the essential point from these words. He leaned over, nuzzled his cheek against Emhyr's, and whispered, "That means you don't have a headache anymore?"

Emhyr looked at him in surprise but had to silently admit that this was true. And he, too, remembered countless occasions when it had been this way – Geralt had a talent for making a difference with a single touch, and no doubt it was the same the other way around. It was intuitive, something neither of them had ever consciously thought about. The soothing effect of a hand, even fleetingly placed on tense muscles. Fingers intertwined, untangling strained thoughts. A firm stroke over the back after a nightmare. The gentle touch on temples that were taut from endless brooding. As Geralt had said: the ability to make the other person feel better just by touching them. He had to admit that there was indeed something curative about it.

-:¦:-

The implications of these findings, if taken seriously, were remarkable. They both mulled over these considerations without actually talking about it, and almost unconsciously, the mutual touching increased. If the reason they were doing each other well with this was their mutual affection, it only seemed to strengthen it. In other words, Geralt and Emhyr could not keep their hands off each other. As if to regularly reassure themselves that their touches had the desired effect, they touched each other more and more frequently. It was undoubtedly an exciting boost for their love life, which had never suffered from too little attention, but now reached unexpected new heights. It almost seemed as if they wanted to combine true love's kiss with true love's touch, but if they were enchanted, this spell could not be broken.

Although they had rarely hidden their affection, it seemed even more apparent now, and they were seen holding hands in the palace more often than before. It seemed to lift the general mood. As far as Emhyr was concerned, it would have been an exaggeration to say that he displayed certain contentment. But overall, everything seemed as bright and rosy as it should be for newlyweds.

Nevertheless, everyday difficulties had not disappeared, as became apparent one day when Ciri accompanied a limping and cursing Geralt to the infirmary set up by Triss. They had been hunting together – a concession they had both wrested from Emhyr, for Ciri, too, needed a balance to the duties she had, after all, voluntarily accepted. It quickly became clear that this balance could not be found in the ever languishing Movran Voorhis, which had led to some disagreements and the latter's near resignation. After those waters were smoothed, Emhyr had agreed, to the astonishment of both Ciri and Geralt, that she could occasionally accompany him when he took on a contract – nothing too dangerous, nonetheless.

This time, something had gone wrong, and it was only thanks to Ciri's quick intervention that Geralt escaped with a dislocated kneecap and a broken arm, while she herself only suffered a few scrapes. As always, Emhyr had been notified immediately, and he watched the treatment of his court sorceress with a wary eye, holding Geralt's hand.

Ciri, observing that Geralt apparently used the touch to nearly break his spouse's hand between a string of juicy curses, which the latter stoically accepted, said at one point in surprise, "Say, you two, you didn't really take that seriously, did you?"

"What?"

"Me, rambling on about the healing power of love the other day. I was just teasing you, but apparently, I started a little something..."

Triss, who had just conjured up a magical ointment for the re-set kneecap with flowing hand movements, looked up at Ciri and replied, "Well, I for one took it seriously."

As all eyes turned to her, the sorceress could not prevent a certain blush from shooting into her cheeks.

"What? It's not so far off, even though I was skeptical at first. So if you were just making it up, Ciri, you were amazingly clairvoyant. Love may release hormones that can relieve pain, among other things – so, for instance, with a touch."

To everyone's surprise, Geralt started laughing, and even Emhyr showed a slight smile.

"It's clear you were messing with us," Geralt said to Ciri. "However, I have to admit; there was something rather stimulating about the idea..."

"Oh please, don't elaborate," Ciri moaned with a disgusted expression. "If I had known that you would become the purest lovebirds after this…"

"I guess you fell into your own trap there, girl," Emhyr opined. "When apparently it can be scientifically proven that there is some truth to your love theory."

"I didn't say anything about it being scientific," Triss interjected. "There are only a few writings by physicians on this."

"Doctors aren't scientific enough for the sorceress, that's it," Geralt sneered but quickly regretted it when she turned to treat his arm.

"We can test out which one you prefer," she replied calmly. "Traditional splinting of the bone as done by barber-surgeons, often with little accuracy, wraps of dubious hygiene and at most weekly dressing changes, as recommended in the now obsolete but still used publication Osseous Therapeuticus. In the meantime, you can try a lot of loving affection; it allegedly promotes the healing process and, in some cases, shortens it. However, some report that the pain is a bit detrimental to libido. Or we might do it my way. That hurts, too, but instead of hoping for a dubious result for about two months, you can move your arm again without any problems in a week. I still recommend holding hands with the other arm, though. "

The others stared at her, speechless, until Geralt, feeling quite powerless at the moment, finally inquired, "You made that book up, didn't you?"

Emhyr, on the other hand, stated, "In this case, I trust entirely in the healing abilities of truly competent hands," which, of course, settled the matter.

-:¦:-

That evening, however, when they were alone, and it was up to him to take care of his spouse, which essentially consisted of making him comfortable, Geralt couldn't help but remark, "And I still think there's something to it."

"Well," Emyhr commented rather dryly, "it's obviously some dubious science, but this thing about releasing hormones..."

"Not that," Geralt interrupted him. "It's only logical; you can find some writings about it at Kaer Morhen, though these days they might not be considered particularly ethical. Still, I think the idea that true love can heal..."

"That wasn't what Ciri was implying," Emhyr interrupted him, frowning. "Hold on. You knew about this hormone thing and all that all along? But you tried to make me believe in the power of love?"

Geralt made a somewhat embarrassed impression. Emhyr raised his brows – which, depending on his mood, could mean anything from mockery to skepticism to blatant rejection. This time, however, it was something else.

"I would consider that a touch of romance; however, I suspect you had some baser instincts."

With one arm in a sling, Geralt's shrug turned out a bit awkward.

"Well, it worked," he returned. "You were very affectionate lately."

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard lately," Emhyr blurted. "You don't think there would have been any other way to achieve this.... aim?"

"Oh yes, certainly," Geralt admitted bluntly. "But it was more fun that way. And healing it was in any case."

"You're such an idiot," Emhyr muttered, shaking his head. "Why do you think it was healing?"

Geralt grinned, and Emhyr instantly regretted his question.

"Sexual healing."

#writing #fanfiction #Emhyr x Geralt #Geralt x Emhyr #Emralt #Witcher 3 Fanfiction #Witcher fanfiction #Rarepair #The Witcher Rarepair

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mermaidssonshipss · 4 years

Text

better

hi babes, this takes place after john b and sarah go missing, just as a heads up. this is.... a bunch of sad and broken jj. i’m giving the female character a name in this because. it just felt right for this one.

warnings: cussing. some angst. mentions of suicidal thoughts (very minor)

pairings: jj maybank x reader (named violet in this)

word count: 2.1k

inspired by “better” by SYML (please listen to this song like it is... jj and the reader to a T like... maybe i cried writing this it’s fine. i’ll have a few of the lyrics scattered throughout.)

“You came into the picture like a natural You were unexpected, got me spiritual. I don’t wanna say it, but maybe it was fate.”

Violet arrived in the Outer Banks exactly a week after John B and Sarah Cameron were declared dead, bodies lost at sea. The island, which now seemed to be plagued by clouds and distant memories of what it had once been, was nothing like it had been the past times she’d visited. The vibrant boneyard parties were no more, and even the kooks on figure 8 had stopped partying. The air was tense when the other 3 pogues walked into a room, everyone waiting for one of them to snap at any given moment. She’d stumbled across JJ Maybank one night as she was out exploring the cut, coming across an empty beach, save for the blonde boy sitting on a surfboard atop the sand, staring out at the water in front of him. He looked content, and she didn’t want to bother him. Beginning to walk past him, she decided to look back at him for a moment, just as the moon had reflected off the water, catching the boys face and exposing a tirade of tears on his sun-kissed cheeks. He looked broken.

She hesitated for a moment before turning around and heading over to him, sitting down on the sand next to his beat up surfboard. JJ’s head turned towards her, his eyes catching her emerald shaded ones. The wind was blowing between the two of them, and the soft scent of orange blossoms that hadn’t been there the moment before was now swirling around JJ.

“You look like you could use a friend,” she spoke, answering his unasked question.

He continued to look at her for a moment, his bright blue-eyes softening just slightly as she sent him a gentle smile.

“I’m JJ,” he finally broke the comfortable silence after a moment, and his voice was scratchy as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks.

“Violet,” she responded simply, and he repeated the name out loud, letting the wind around them carry her name across the ocean.

“I came into your picture such a broken fool A million different pieces looking back at you. Believe when I say this, I was giving up But now, you come and save me.”

She’d been looking for him all day, the other two pogues that she had finally met a few weeks ago reporting that they hadn’t seen, or heard from him, in days. Pope and Kie both had to work, so she was sent on the mission to find JJ herself. She had a few good ideas as to where he could be, but was met with disappointment each time they came up empty. Finally, after checking what seemed like the entire island, she realized there was only one other place he could be.

Violet had never been to the chateau. JJ spoke of it often, but the two of them had never ventured there. To be honest, JJ, Pope, and Kie hadn’t gone back since John B went missing. She knew where it was, though. Everyone did. The city was trying to decide what to do with the abandoned home currently, unsure whether they should give it to the bank to redo and sell it, tear it down, or just leave it be.

As her converse clad feet stepped up the flimsy stairs leading to the front porch of the chateau, Violet could feel he was there. She pushed the door open gently, her eyes scanning the dark room in front of her. It was messy, a lived in home that hadn’t been picked up in months, and her heart sunk. She wandered through the small house slowly, the guest room coming up empty, before she found herself stood outside of what she assumed was John B’s room. Her fingers gripped the doorknob, twisting it gently as she tried to quietly push the door open. The window in the room was open, illuminating the small space, and her eyes immediately fell to the blonde boy who was sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, his head in his hands as his body shook. His hair looked as if he had been tugging on it and running his fingers through it for hours, and when he heard her feet scuff against the floor as she moved towards him, his head shot up.

His eyes were bloodshot from crying, his cheeks stained with new and old tears, and she could see his knuckles were split open.

“JJ...” Violet’s voice was gentle as she kneeled down in front of him, taking his hands into hers as she held onto them. The scent of orange blossoms invaded JJ’s senses, snapping him out of the trance he had been in.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” his voice cracked as he spoke, and she could feel his hands shaking in hers. She moved to sit beside him, wrapping her arms around his frame and pulling him into her, his head resting on her chest as she began to run her fingers through his hair, working through the tangles he had created.

She didn’t know what to say. Nothing at that moment would piece him back together, whether it was her assuring him he would be back, or it was her agreeing and letting him accept his grief. All she could do was hold him.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered into his ear, her hand now coming down to softly caress his cheek, wiping a few of his fresh tears away. His arms had wrapped around her waist, clutching onto the petite girl, refusing to let go. Though she was smaller than he was, he felt smaller in that moment, as she wound her arms around him and her fingertips caressed his skin. He felt cared for. He felt loved.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he sobbed, and Violet had to hold back her own tears, “I don’t know how to live in a world without my best friend. Everything hurts and it never stops hurting and I just feel so empty,” he was falling apart in her arms, finally letting his feelings consume him, “I feel like no one cares about me. Even Kie and Pope... we’ve all drifted because we can’t bare to look at each other. All we can think about when we’re together is what we’re missing. I have nothing to live for anymore.” he was gasping for air by the time he stopped speaking, and Violet felt like the floor beneath them was going to collapse underneath the two of them as it shook from the storm outside, but she ignored it.

“JJ.... I care about you,” her voice was comforting as she spoke, and JJ looked up at her, his mournful eyes into hers, “And I don’t think I could stay on this island without you on it. I need you here. Kie and Pope need you here. I know... I know things are hard right now between the three of you, but god damn it JJ they love you. Both of them were texting me freaking out because they hadn’t heard from you. You’ve all lost John B, I don’t think they can handle losing you too. I can’t handle losing you.”

JJ didn’t respond, but Violet could tell by the way his body had stopped shaking in her hold, that he had heard every word.

For hours, the both of them just sat there, her holding JJ as he cried into her chest before he moved so his head was in her lap. She’d been running her fingers through his hair the entire time, her fingertips softly massaging his temples, every now and then trailing down his cheeks to wipe away tears as they fell. Finally, he had stopped crying, the only sound in the room their silent breaths and the sound of rain outside hitting the window.

“Come back to my place,” she spoke after a moment of looking down at him, her eyes studying his face, “Let’s get you cleaned up, get a meal in you, and you can sleep on an actual bed.”

JJ, who’s eyes had been closed, finally looked up at her, nodding his head slowly before he pushed himself up onto his feet, his hand grabbing hers and helping her off the floor.

As the two of them walked out of the home and into the rain, racing to her car, he kept a tight grip on her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

***

“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, VIOLET!” JJ’s voice was the loudest she had ever heard it as his words echoed around the both of them.

“You’re in my fucking house, Maybank. Don’t you dare raise your voice at me like that,” Violet was seething as she looked at JJ in front of her, refusing to acknowledge the stray tears streaming down his face.

He had gotten into a fight just hours ago, and for the 5th time in the year Violet had known him, she had to bail him out of jail before his dad found out.

“When are you going to realize that fighting isn’t going to bring John B back?” Violet’s words hung through the air after she spoke them, JJ’s jaw clenching, but she continued speaking before he could lash out, “I know you’re hurt. I know I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you’re in and I’m not going to try and say I understand, or say that things will get better because I don’t fucking know if they will, JJ. But you have to at least try. You’re throwing your life away.”

“Fuck you, Violet,” he spat, ripping his hat off his head as he threw it across the room, “What life? I don’t have a fucking life. My life is nothing. It’s shit. I’m stuck here for the rest of my life under the shadow of my piece of shit dad, and one day I’m going to become him. I’m already becoming him.” JJ was shaking with rage as he spoke, his eyes glaring at Violet, and she’d never seen the blue orbs look so cold.

“Don’t. Don’t say that, because you and I both know it’s not fucking true. You are the farthest thing from your father. You’re right. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand in life, JJ. But that doesn’t mean your life is nothing. You aren’t your dads shadow, you’re your own person. If you’re so unhappy with your life JJ, put on your fucking big boy pants and do something about it. Stop fighting with everyone who just looks at you wrong or you’re going to end up in jail again, and one of these days you’re gonna be so fucked no one can bail you out.” Her tone was just as icy as his had been, but her green eyes were wide as she stared at him, her fists clenching at her sides. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head as he placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head up towards the ceiling.

“I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation,” he huffed out finally, looking back at Violet.

"Because I care about you.” now, her voice was a whisper, and JJ’s eyes softened for only a second before his gaze hardened once again.

“No you fucking don’t!” he screamed suddenly, causing Violet to flinch at the volume, “NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT ME. WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU?” his words slapped against the walls, and Violet swore she could feel them shake at the intensity. Finally, she snapped.

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” she rushed the words out in a yell, and JJ’s entire body physically slumped, the anger on his face dissipating as he stared at her.

“You’re... in love with me?” Tears had now begun to threaten to spill down Violets cheeks, and she simply nodded, knowing that if she spoke, they would escape.

JJ looked at her for a moment, waiting for her to start laughing and say she was just kidding, that she could never love someone like him, but it never came. Instead, she held his gaze, her viridescent eyes shining. He swallowed roughly, taking in a deep breath as he began to approach her, his hand hesitantly grabbing hers as he intertwined their fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice shook, and Violet squeezed his fingers, stepping into his chest as he wrapped his free arm around her waist.

“You’re gonna be okay, JJ. You’ll get through this, and I’ll be by your side through it all.”

And I know, and I know it’s a different love And I know, and I know that you make me better. You’re enough and you keep me holding on And I know, and I know we only get better.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow x reader

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.5

Part 5 of WINTW? :D Enjoy!

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6

Inside your room, you locked your doors and sat down at your desk. The only light illuminating your room was your desk lamp. If your theory was right, then perhaps Akaashi could either have a quirk or be your ticket back home.

During the whole duration your hand held his, the all too familiar pulling sensation was present. That feeling of being able to move confidently with your quirk was ever present. Checking the glow of your palm, your heart rate increased at the much brighter glow. Positioning your palms above the plant, you began to manipulate its entirety.

Right before your eyes, the desert rose succulent began to lose its shape. Lifting the mass and separating it from the soil, you willed your quirk to work harder. It was rather painful but somehow you were now manipulating its properties till you were left with a new succulent. A Hoya plant now replaced the rose.

With trembling hands and uneven breathing, you rested your forehead on the desk. The glow was now non-existent. Juicing out your quirk was unintended but definitely worth it.

The next morning, you woke up with a headache and nausea. Going down the stairs, o-mother was already in the kitchen busying herself with breakfast. Just as she was about to greet you, she gasped and jogged towards you.

“Honey, are you alright?” Seeing a pale daughter early in the morning was something a mother would not want to see.

“Yeah. I’m fine, mom.” You let her feel your temperature. “Just a little dizzy that’s all.”

“Make sure to take and bring medicine before you leave, okay?” Hearing your confirmation, she went back and continued to make breakfast. “Will Akaashi-kun walk with you today?”

“It’s pretty much given by now~” You smiled softly at the thought. “And, don’t worry. He can pretty much tell that I’m not in tip top shape so he’ll give me a scolding to take better care of my health.”

“Took the words out of my mouth~” She giggled and now placed the plate of food in front of you. “If you feel worse, I’m one call away.”

Breakfast was always something you looked forward to. You weren’t exactly sure as to what made it so special. There was nothing wrong with your real mother’s cooking; It wasn’t bland, overly seasoned, or even half cooked. Maybe it was how she was using her hands. It required more effort and time. That was probably it.

With breakfast over and uniform on, you stared at the mirror and checked for any last minute changes. Seeing that things were looking fine, you went towards your window and slid it open. The sight before you was rather heavenly.

A pretty boy sitting on the ledge, eyes closed as his head rested on the frame. Not a single wrinkle on his uniform. Practice wasn’t as tiring as it was compared to the others, so why was he dozing off? Not that you were complaining. This version of Akaashi was pleasing to the eyes.

Without thinking, you grabbed your phone and took a picture. You were about to call his name till you had an idea. Going to your desk, you took out a pen and paper and scribbled out some words. Folding it effortlessly into a plane. Something this light would have no strain on your quirk.

Aiming the plane towards his intertwined fingers, your palms began to faintly glow. Making the piece of paper glide through the air, you made the small note dive to his hands. Just enough to startle him. Startled Akaashi was a sight to remember.

Blinking himself awake, he stared at the random paper plane. Checking to see if it was from his neighbor, he glanced at your window only to see his suspicions to be correct. Unfolding the plane, he shook his head and folded the paper. Tossing it to his desk, he motioned for you that he too was ready to leave for school.

Passing by the convenience store, you held onto his arm and shook it gently.

“Snack bar?” When he nodded, Akaashi found himself being dragged once again. Facing the shelf, your eyes scanned for a new bar to try out. Overwhelmed with the variety, you faced him and shook his arm again. “What flavor do you recommend today, sir?”

Taking a simple chocolate-oat bar, you accepted it and made your way to the counter. This time, you offered to pay for the bars and he simply gave his thanks.

For the whole duration of the walk, his arm was being held delicately by your hand. Resting on the crease of his elbow, he would occasionally steal glances at your small fingers. He didn’t really mind it but the question lingered in his mind. Why?

When the school gates were approaching, you let go of his arm and tucked it into your pocket. Feeling your quirk raising from 7% to 15% from that small contact alone was very thought provoking. He didn’t really seem to mind it so, maybe it was fine.

Time was rather fast today. From the classroom walls, you were now inside the girl’s locker room changing into your proper attire. Knowing you had a few minutes before the others would arrive, you stared at your palm. Making it glow for a few seconds, a memory popped up.

The corners of your mouth lifted when you remembered Todoroki and you as small children. His face void of the scar yet the pain in his eyes present each time you two would see each other. Thinking of ways to cheer him up, you would light up your small hand and manipulate the light around you. Sometimes, you would create small firefly like orbs or just let them glow alternatively.

Missing your friend, you lit up both your palms and did so. That was one of the little secrets that you two shared.

When the doors of the room opened, you closed your palms and continued changing.

Now that you were catching the balls from behind, you were still a little pissed at how the rigorous movements were not enough for your body. There was no option as to where you could train like how you used to unless you snuck out in the middle of the night to some construction site and lift steel bars and such.

Returning a ball to the bin, you let out a sigh.

“(y/n)!”

A little too late in your reflexes. Being so lost in thought made you cancel out your environment once again. A stray serve from Sarukui landed on your cheek. Landing on your side, you groaned and tried to rub off the pain. You weren’t even going to deny that you felt as if Deku had punched you in the face with his quirk.

“I’m so sorry!” Sarukui kept on apologizing but you told him it was your fault.

Bokuto was quick to get an ice pack but Yukie grabbed the small item and threw it to Akaashi. The pretty boy wasn’t expecting it but he knew what the manager was trying to plot. When he saw the girl gesturing to him to go and do his job, he bowed a bit and jogged towards your sitting form.

“You alright, (l/n)?” He said as he sat down beside you and handed the ice pack.

“Happens to the best of us.” You accepted it and felt relief pass through your cheek. A grateful sigh escaped your lips. “Thanks, Akaashi.”

“It might bruise. Will you be okay with it?”

“Yeah. I’m used to bruises so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Used to bruises?” He asked. His fingers fiddling around. Tilting his head, he watched as the ice pack began to drip water.

“I told you.” You faced him. “I’m the most interesting person in this dimension, Akaashi.”

His eyes began to trail down your forearm till the small growing puddle beside you. Tilting his head with confusion as to how you were oblivious to the fastly melting ice pack. Noticing he was preoccupied, you followed his gaze and only just saw the puddle. Your eyes widened and you removed the water filled pack.

Was it even possible? Of course not. But, what if?

Focusing a bit on your hand, you waited.

Then you felt it.

It was quick and faint but it was an all too familiar warmth.

“Shoto?” Your voice was barely a whisper. Once again, a flash of heat spread across your palms.

“Who?”

“Uh,” Standing up, Akaashi could see how you were trying to fix your thoughts. Massaging your temples, you could feel your balance wavering. Just as you were about to take a step forward, your knee gave way. Thankfully, Akaashi was quick to grab your waist. “I have to go to the comfort room.”

“I can acc-”

“No.” Gently pushing him away, you tried to reassure him. “I’m fine, Akaashi. Just feeling nausea that’s all.”

Before he could speak, your back was now turned and making a run for it.

“I saw it!” Todoroki stated. His left side sent out tiny sparks due to his growing anger. “She did this little thing we do with her quirk!”

“Maybe you were just seeing things, Todoroki.” Iida tried to calm his classmate.

Everyone was cramped up inside the infirmary during their break. It was now the third day and there were still no changes with your case. Recovery Girl had already stated that she contacted her friends to see if she could gather anything new only to be left empty. Not wanting to add to the disappointment, she gave permission to the whole class to drop by and visit.

“Iida has a point.” Kiri said. His face filled with worry for two of his friends. “As much as I want to believe that (n/n) is okay, I think that’s just her consciousness doing that little glow thing you mentioned.”

“I’ve seen it a few times. How she’s sleeping and her quirk gets activated all of a sudden.” Momo had to agree. You were one of her most cherished friends and when she heard of the news, she dropped everything and ran towards the infirmary. “I get that she’s special to you, Todoroki-kun, but that’s a normal occurrence with (y/n).”

“That was too specific.” He tried to rebut. “I’ve seen it more times than any of you could imagine. I grew up with her. Hell, we were supposed to get married. That small action proves that she’s trying to tell us something.”

“Todoroki. We get that you just want her back but I think it’s all on her if she wants to wake up. If her brain scans show that she’s active, maybe she’s choosing not to wake up.” Sero commented. The rest of the class nods save for Deku and Bakugo.

“(y/n) is like a sister to me. She was my only sense of family after I got this fucking scar on my face.” A small burst of flame formed on his shoulder. “If I say that she’s conscious and wants to communicate, then that’s what I will believe in.”

Excusing himself, he left the room only to be followed by Deku. The two boys stopped in the hallway. Deku wanted to speak but he knew a pissed Todoroki would lead to nowhere. Few seconds had passed, he noticed his friend’s breathing was now even.

“Todo-”

“You saw it too, right?”

“I did.” Deku admitted. “But, getting angry at the situation won’t help. For now, what we can do is try to look up alternative theories as to what’s happening.”

“I know.”

Deku didn’t want to tell him but in a way, he felt as if him and you were similar. Being able to see the previous holders of One for All, perhaps Todoroki had a point. Maybe you were awake and locked somewhere in your consciousness. It pained him that he couldn’t tell his theory. Later in the day, he would plan on visiting All Might to ask whether or not it was possible to test out a hypothesis or not.

Sure enough, Deku and Bakugo were now sitting in front of All Might. A look of surprise etched on his face at the theory presented to him. It wasn’t too far fetched but the risk of being caught might be too great for the three of them to proceed.

“We don’t know how long you will be able to hold out, Young Midoriya.” His bony fingers were intertwined as his lips touched his thumbs. “We also don’t know if the two of you will be safe if things turn out well.”

“But we’ve done it once.” Deku tried to sofly counter. “I’m not too sure myself but if this theory is possible, then maybe it’s worth a shot.”

“What is your say in this, Young Bakugo?”

“It’s shitty.” He shrugs. “But, if it means being able to save (n/n) then I guess it’s okay.”

“This needs preparation.” All Might nodded. “Both of you should first train mentally and even spiritually to ensure success. Keep this on the down low for now. Let’s set aside a month and I’ll see what I can do.”

The two boys stared at each other. A month was a little too long for their liking but if it meant a higher rate of success…

“We’ll do it!”

- - - - -

a/n: ugh ive had such a rough week last week but luckily i managed to do the chapters on time :’( n e way~ i hope ya’ll liked this chapter! weekly uploads start now :3 Akaashi’s lineup is still open!

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu #akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyu x bnha #crossover #god i hate my work so much

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 5: Don’t Even Think About It]

Hi y’all! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long...finals and job hunting got the best of me. I will be updating more frequently going forward. As always, thank you so much for reading!! 💜😘

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, very very very little sexual content.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

You’re in the crowd at The Rainbow, although you aren’t sure why; this has already happened.

Freddie is skulking across the fog-draped stage as he belts out the chorus of In The Lap Of The Gods...Revisited, all glistening tan skin and teased hair, a pillar of nimble black leather; John is only a silhouette in the mist. Brian looks like something that’s crawled out of a cocoon: leggy and insect-like, the sleeves of his flowing white blouse like a pair of wings. And Roger...Roger’s in the back, of course—“the hardworking one in the back,” he always says—with a glittery black kimono-like shrug hanging loosely off his bare shoulders. He’s drumming feverishly, sprays of Heineken flying off his floor tom, his forehead and blond hair dripping.

“Whoa, whoa, la la la, whoa...

I can see what you want me to be,

But I'm no fool,

It's in the lap of the gods...”

Somehow, as the fog clears, Roger’s eyes find you in the crowd. He grins in that effervescent, blameless way that he does. And now you know for sure that this is a dream; because there’s no chance Roger could see that far without his glasses.

There’s a banging noise coming from somewhere, but it’s muted, distant, splintered like an echo.

Dream Roger is fading away, dissolving as the lights shade to black on the stage. He disappears, and then Freddie does too, and then Brian, and finally John. The crowd you’re standing in is a sea of churning, indistinguishable faces.

The banging grows louder, closer. You can hear a new voice now.

You swim up from unconsciousness and punch into daylight. You’re laying on your back in bed in a small, rustic hotel room; it takes you a second to remember what the world looks like now. It’s not November at the Rainbow Theater. It’s December 11th, and you’re in Rome.

You sit up in bed and turn towards the door. Whoever is out there is knocking so forcefully that the distressed wood rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, Dorothea Dix, wake up!” Freddie is shouting through the door.

You rub your eyes as your feet touch the cool teak floor. The band flew into Rome late last night, and has one full day to burn before their concert on the 12th. You’d pitched the idea of visiting a few museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, maybe even the Baths of Caracalla or the Temple of Venus and Roma; but it had been difficult to get anyone to commit at 2 a.m. when you were all exhausted and dragging luggage into the modest, quite geriatric hotel. Queen may finally have a Top 20 album in the U.S., but the streets aren’t paved with gold just yet.

“Darling, need I remind you that this was all your idea, you simply must wake up this instant—!”

You swing the door open. Freddie is standing in the hallway in a vivid yellow-and-black jacket and white jeans, tall boots, dark hair huge and curly, folded aviator sunglasses peeking out of his pocket.

“Get ready, bitch,” he says, grinning, then slips the sunglass over his dusky eyes. “All those gorgeous marble blokes with their cocks hanging out aren’t going to ogle themselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You start with the ruins, then end up at the National Roman Museum after lunch. Brian and Chrissie meander through the halls of cracked marble goddesses and heroes and piecemeal fractions of bodies, their hands intertwined; Chrissie took a few days off work to meet the band in Rome, and she’s glowing with the thrill of being reunited with Bri. Freddie is contemplating the displays, tapping his chin thoughtfully and chatting as John nods along and sketches in his notebook. There’s a photographer scurrying around snapping photos of the band for some magazine, to the vexation of the museum employees. They scowl from the corners of the rooms, their suits pristine and arms crossed, muttering to each other in Italian.

Roger leaps in front of a hulking statue of Perseus and mimics the pose. “What do you think?” he asks you, wielding an invisible spear. “Am I courageous? Divine? A mirror image?”

“You’ll have to work on the hair. And gain like a hundred pounds.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Pounds?!”

“Whoops. Kilos. A lot of kilos. But I think I like you as you are. Can I see your hands?”

Roger falls out of his pose, smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He presents his palms for inspection. The first weeks had been hell for him as his hands were worked into touring shape, repeatedly blistered and worn raw, iced and treated and bandaged by you each night only to be pummeled all over again the next day. Of course, Roger hadn’t described it that way; he shrugged at the blood and swollen knuckles, his eyes already alight with the promise of future shows. That’s just a casualty of fame, love, he’d told you. I’d take it all again and more. The last of his blisters have healed now into discolored callouses, rough whirlpools of memories from cities like Glasgow and Bristol and Helsinki and Munich. “I can get more pounds too, you know. I’ll be swimming in them. I’m gonna buy you a mansion when we get home.”

“Not so fast, blondie.” You graze your thumbs over his rugged palms and release him. Aside from your annoyingly incessant concern for Roger, your job hasn’t proved to be too taxing: there have been sprains, minor lacerations, severe hangovers, some alcohol poisoning, and one case of syphilis that you identified and sent the unfortunate man to a doctor for, all of which afflicted the roadies rather than the band.

“How’s Jo doing?” Chrissie calls over from where she and Brian are scrutinizing a sculpture of Apollo. She tosses Roger a smirk.

“Fine,” he replies briskly. “It was amicable. She understood. Nothing personal, just with the tour and everything we knew it wasn’t going to work out. Bad timing, that’s all.”

“Hm. That’s not exactly how she described it.”

Roger sighs, irritated. “Well, Chris, I really can’t control what she chooses to tell you, can I?”

“Shhhh. Play nice, love,” Brian coos, massaging Chrissie’s shoulders.

Roger pops a cigarette between his lips and moves to light it. A museum employee rushes over, waving his arms frantically. “Per favore, signore, no smoking near the exhibits—!”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.” Roger tucks the cigarette away, then turns back to you. “Okay, no mansion then. What’s your fancy? Diamonds and gold? Tigers on leashes?”

“A harem of sensual Italian men?” Freddie suggests. Chrissie bursts out laughing.

“I hope not,” Roger says.

“You know what I really want?” you say, eyeing busts of Hadrian and Nero.

“What?” Chrissie asks.

“A camera. A really good one. To document all of this, our adventures. I mean, I know we have...” You wave towards the magazine photographer, who’s mostly snapping shots of Freddie and Roger. “But it would be nice to have my own photos. Carry them around in my wallet, force strangers to look at them, cover my refrigerator with them, all that sentimental stuff. So the minute you kids start making real money, I’d like a nice Canon. Or a Nikon. Or whatever the best camera is.”

“The Canon F-1 is quite good,” the photographer offers.

“Perfect! Clearly, I know nothing about cameras. And will need a hefty instruction manual. But I’m still excited.”

Roger winks. “I believe in you.”

As you all wander into the next room, Freddie spies a grand piano and sprints to it. He slides onto the bench and begins testing the keys. A distraught museum employee appears instantly.

“Signore, please, this is for the museum staff only, please signore!”

“Oh relax, darling, I won’t break it.” He begins experimenting with some light, jazzish melody.

“I love Rome,” you decide as you stroll past the Aphrodite of Menophantos. “Are you sure we can’t stay here forever?”

John frowns as he shades in whatever he’s drawing in his notebook. “It’s too bad we couldn’t make it to Florence.”

Freddie rolls his eyes from the piano. “Deaky, darling, this Dante’s Inferno obsession has got to go. It’s positively morbid.”

“He ends up in paradise,” John protests wryly.

Freddie snorts. “Yes, well, Florence is a three hour drive each way. Next time perhaps. Once we’ve all got private jets and Nurse Nightingale over there has her posh camera.”

“And we’ve acquired trophy wives to pose with us,” Brian jokes. Chrissie squeals and shoves him good-naturedly.

“We could go to the beach,” John proposes.

“A seaside rendezvous?” you say playfully.

Freddie hums and nods as his fingers fly over black and white keys.

“Signore...” the museum employee begs. The photographer circles Freddie and the piano, snapping picture after picture.

“The beach?!” Roger whines. “It’s too cold for that! We can’t swim, we can’t sunbathe practically naked, what’s the point? And we’re checking out that club tonight. The one by the hotel, what’s it called, Fred? El Fuocolio?”

“Il Fuoco,” Freddie corrects, amused.

“Ah. Forgive me for not keeping up with my Italian.”

“We don’t all listen to opera, you know,” you tease Freddie. He peers over at you thoughtfully, then continues playing. “I’ll go to the beach with you, John.”

He almost drops his notebook and pencil. “Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll have fewer opportunities in my life to see the Italian seaside than get tipsy and evade dodgy men at some bar, most likely. Although I will miss seeing your dancing.”

“Aww!” Now Roger is dejected, his huge blue eyes pleading. “You have to come with us.”

“Next time,” you promise him.

“This time.”

“Next time.”

“Fine.” He points at John. “Don’t let her get eaten by a shark or run off with some Italian playboy.”

John grins. “I’ll do my best.”

Two burly security guards arrive and begin shouting at Freddie in Italian. “Oh fine, fine!” he snaps as he stands and abandons the piano. The museum employee beams triumphantly.

“Fred, I think we’ve tormented them enough,” Brian says.

“Bri, can we go to the beach too?” Chrissie asks. “Please?”

“It’ll be chilly.”

“I have a jacket. And I can borrow yours if necessary.”

Brian chuckles. “Okay. We can go. Ostia’s the closest one, I suppose.”

“You’ll love it,” you tell him. “It’ll be like time travelling. You get to stand on the same shore that the ancient Romans did, bury your feet in the same sand, watch the same sunset. That should appeal to an astrophysicist such as yourself.”

“How poetic,” John muses.

Roger comes to you, shrugs off his black leather jacket, drapes it over your violet sweater.

“Roger, don’t—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupts, smiling, then presses his lips fleetingly to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four of you take a crowded, decidedly unglamorous bus to Ostia and walk the beaches under the fading afternoon sun. It is chilly by the crashing water, and the wind whips across your cheeks forcefully enough to sting; but none of that stops you. Brian and John collect seashells, and Brian retreads all the details of the tour—all the things he wishes he could do over, all the things he wants to change going forward—as John listens, smoking and nodding when appropriate. You and Chrissie kneel in the cool sand and shape castles with your hands, giggle about how messy and lopsided they are, scribble notes in the soft sifting remnants of stone and quartz: Chrissie loves Bri, Buy Sheer Heart Attack today, Queen was here. And you’re thinking about Roger more than you should be, and Chrissie knows it; but she’s not going to say anything about that now.

When the boys come back, Bri sits in the sand next to Chrissie and begins to decorate her castle with the shells he found: scallops and clams and tulip shells and oysters and tiny lightning whelks. She claps and hugs him, leaps into his lap, pulls him in for a kiss.

“This is terribly unfair,” you say, staring morosely at your now even less impressive sandcastle.

John appears beside you and offers a massive pink conch filled with very small, pristine, glossy shells. You gasp and clasp a palm over your heart.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled. “Who do you think I picked them for?”

“You’re the best. The absolute best. A treasure. I owe you my life. Wait...” You pick up a thin shard of driftwood and write into the side of your sandcastle: John Deacon, and then a heart encircling it. “You are officially lord of the sandcastle.”

“A prestigious position, surely,” he says, smiling, then passes you the conch. “Go on.”

As you place the shells, he finds a dried bit of seaweed and impales it on the piece of driftwood, then plants the makeshift flag on the tallest tower of the castle.

Brian glances over and shakes his head, his mess of curls shivering. “Chris, love, I fear we’ve been outdone.” Then he nods to the words you and Chrissie carved with your fingertips. “Leaving letters in the sand?”

“Promotional material,” you quip; but you can tell the wheels in Brian’s magnificent mind are whirling.

As the sun sets over the Mediterranean Sea, golden speckles of light floating disembodied on the waves, the four of you get gelato and browse through bookstores and wander down cobblestone streets. And on the bus ride back to the hotel, Brian points out constellations as you hold the conch shell in your lap and doze against John’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Chrissie depart to get dinner when you arrive back at the hotel, taking the rare opportunity for a date night. You try to think of a more romantic destination than Rome. Paris? New York? Venice? Probably none of those. You push the images that flood your thoughts away: candlelit meals with violins serenading in the background, the warm cascading glow of streetlights, tossing coins into fountains older than either London or Boston, gazing over the table and into the ensnaring oceanic eyes of the person who won’t be there. Roger.

“Do you think Roger and Fred are back yet?” you ask John in the lobby. He’s still got his notebook in his jacket pocket, but he won’t let you see it.

“I doubt it, but let’s find out.”

You ride the elevator to the band’s floor, still clutching the conch shell, as John fields ideas for dinner.

“Roger’s going to want pizza and beer, but we might be able to get Freddie to go for something more swanky. Actually, he’ll probably order dessert first. There’s a restaurant down the street that I heard has phenomenal tiramisu and lasagna.”

“Oh god. I would kill for a good lasagna.”

“No need for all that,” John says. “We don’t have enough cash for your bail.”

“If they serve lasagna in prison, you can leave me here.”

“But then who would patch up our debaucherous roadies?!”

You laugh as the elevator lurches to a halt and the doors open. “Just call me up in prison and I can talk you through it—”

You step out and turn down the hallway; then all the air vanishes from your lungs. Roger’s fumbling with his key as he tries to get into his room...and pressed between him and the door is a raven-haired, modelesque woman in a short red dress. His eyes are closed, her tongue darting between his lips, his free hand skating up her bare thigh and beneath her dress. And suddenly you’re being dragged back into the elevator, John’s arms locked around your waist. He hits the button for the lobby then reaches for you uncertainly.

“Are you okay—?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m totally fine, I’m...” But for some reason, your throat is burning and your eyes are blurring with tears. You try to blink them away and they drop down your cheeks like rain.

“You’re not,” he realizes softly.

“Goddammit,” you choke out, sobbing.

“Hey, don’t do that,” John pleads. “Please don’t do that, please don’t cry—”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, this is so stupid...” You fan your face and try to wrangle your breathing. The way he was touching her...I can’t forget the way he was touching her. “I am so stupid.”

“You’re not,” John flares. And when he opens his arms you rush into them, burying your face in his jacket as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his warmth. “You’re not stupid,” he says, quietly but severely. “You’re wicked smart and wonderful and perfect, so you’re not allowed to say anything to the contrary. Alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper. And it occurs to you—as your breathing slows, as your tears subside—how incomparably comfortable this feels, homey even.

John clears his throat. “Hey, not to break this up or anything, but you’re sort of stabbing me with the conch shell.”

Incredibly, you laugh as you back away, swiping at your eyes. “Sorry.”

The elevator doors open, and John leads you out into the lobby. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “We’re going to go to that restaurant on the corner and I’m going to order a lasagna—”

“John, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. Did I say you were going to be forced to eat it at gunpoint? No I did not. I’m going to order a lasagna, and if you want some awesome, and if you don’t we’ll just sit and talk. And you can nibble table bread or drink so much wine you forget today ever happened, whatever you want. You make the rules. But we’re going, and I’m ordering lasagna.”

“Okay,” you reply, sniffling, smiling up at him gratefully.

The restaurant is teeming with tourists, and you end up seated at a tiny table near the back with very dim lighting and a roaring fireplace. It’s deliciously hot, burning away your misery; or, at least, making it feel as if it might belong to someone else, as if maybe you heard about it from a friend or in a song, maybe even dreamed it. You take Roger’s leather jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. When the waiter arrives, John orders for you.

“One lasagna, the biggest one you have, and extra table bread, and uh...” He skims the menu. “Two red wines and a Coke. And a sparkling water. So the lady has a selection.”

“Si, signore. Grazie.”

When the waiter leaves, John lifts off his jacket too, then unbuttons his shirt to his navel. The sweltering glow of the firelight dances across his pale skin in a way that is mysteriously distracting. “Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like December in here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe they could move us—”

“No, that’s alright, I know you like it. And one should be sweating in Southern Italy, don’t you think?” He tears off a hunk of bread when it arrives and plates it for you. The conch shell lays on the table by the salt and pepper shakers, to the visible confusion of the waiter.

“Thank you. For everything, John. Really.”

He gazes at you with those blue-grey eyes that can look like either clouds or steel depending on the occasion. Tonight they are misty, like the froth over waves, impossibly soft. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says gently. “I don’t know if that helps at all, but I think it should. It doesn’t mean anything to someone like Roger, what you saw tonight.”

You sigh. “I guess it doesn’t. And I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, I know that, and I’m just so frustrated and...and...I get it, I get that I have no right to care about anything Roger does, which is why I feel like such an idiot for reacting this way, but I just...I just...I’m just so...so fucking torn up about it and I’m sick of being surrounded by it all the time and I’m...I’m so...I’m...look, I’m sorry, can you button your shirt or something? That’s very distracting.”

“Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” John asks, grinning.

“Don’t you dare—”

He undoes several more buttons. “How about now, are you sufficiently distracted?”

“John, no!” you wail, laughing.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to distract you from your tortured inner monologue...” He removes his shirt entirely and tosses it to the floor. “How are you now?”

“Very distracted,” you wheeze.

“Excellent.” He smiles, resting his face in his hands, the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, reflections of flames in his eyes. “See, you don’t look so sad now.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” You bite into your hunk of bread. But still, the way he was touching her...

John sips red wine and smirks teasingly. “You know...if you ever get tired of the celibate lifestyle...I’m always game.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and open the Coke bottle. “That’s very much appreciated. But I don’t just want sex.”

“I know,” he replies, solemnly now. “You want him.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” That seems like it must be a lie, but John sounds genuine.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you tell him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Certainly not get treated to authentic Italian lasagna.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure that’s the least of your talents. Veronica is a very lucky woman.”

John nods, staring down at the table now, pushing crumbs around with the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

And, in the end, you managed to eat your half of the lasagna after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you get back to your hotel room, it’s very late in Italy...which means it’s only early evening in Boston. You pick up the phone and resolve to use the last of your miniscule weekly allowance for a long distance call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Guess where I am right now.”

“Hopefully on a date with that nice Roger boy.”

“Oh my god, Mom.”

She titters pleasantly. “Tell me, dear. Germany? No, no. Spain.”

“Rome.”

“Oh!” she sighs, steeped in nostalgia. “Daddy and I went there on our honeymoon! Ages ago, of course. But it was wonderful, otherworldly. Like getting lost in a fairytale. How do you like it?”

“I love it,” you murmur. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Always, dear.”

You twirl the phone cord around your fingers anxiously. “How did you know that Dad was the one?”

“Hm.” She pauses; and you can envision the way she takes a step back and glances up at the ceiling whenever she’s thinking something over. Oh, maybe I do still miss parts of Boston. “Well...you know Daddy wasn’t single when we met. And neither was I.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that part of the story.”

“I’m not sure if I can explain it, dear. Truly. I...” She drifts off, pondering it. Finally, she says: “I’d had plenty of other boyfriends. I’d been interested in other people. And people are all so different, they all have something unique to offer to your life, whether good or evil. But when I met your father...I just felt like I couldn’t live without him. Suddenly nothing else seemed possible if he wasn’t in the picture. Like if he wasn’t there I’d spend the rest of my life missing him. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, yeah.” You close your eyes and feel the dark Mediterranean night air breeze in through the open window. The conch shell has found a temporary home on top of the antique dresser. “I love you, Mom.”

“Aww, I love you too, honey. And you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is.”

You look out into the constellations that Brian introduced to you earlier, Aries and Fornax and Perseus. “I hope so.”

#queen #queen fic #roger taylor fic #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave #queen fanfic #john deacon fic #roger taylor x reader #john deacon x reader

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sukkasupremacy · 4 years

Text

SUKKA ONE SHOTS: Councilmen?

This one is rated M for sexual references/mild smut. This has been on my AO3 for a month or so and I’m sharing here! Suki tries to urge Sokka to take a break for some “stress relief” ;)

Sokka sat at his desk frustrated in his work. Being a councilman in Republic City came with stress, challenges, paperwork, and more stress. Sokka has been sitting at his desk for hours on end trying to create a plan to help the development and funding of the new schools. He loved his job but the one thing he actually hated about it was barely seeing Suki during the day. The only time he ever saw her was when they were both waking up to go to work and if he was lucky at night before she went to bed. He hadn’t talked to Suki that day and he missed her dearly. She had left for work early that morning and he knew she wouldn’t get back until later. Sokka groaned and massaged his temples with his fingers.

“What if we get this ambassador to...” he murmured to himself and thought for a moment , “No that wouldn’t work... maybe if we.” He chewed his brush as he thought, “What if we ask Cabbage Corp too...no they’re too big. Maybe Sato Industries could help...” He brushed the idea on the scroll.

“Dammit.” His head throbbed in pain.

He heard a light knock on his office door, “Good evening, councilman.” Suki leaned against the door frame and smiled at her boy.

His headache ceased to exist as her melodic voice penetrated his ears. He turned around and was met with the sight of his beautiful wife, Suki. She was already dressed for bed in her silk robe colored of an Emerald green. Sokka’s eyes widened. She was so beautiful.

Sokka smiled tiredly at her, “Good evening my sexy, beautiful warrior princess.”

Suki strutted alluringly to him and slowly sat on his lap with her legs around his torso. She placed her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead into his, “I missed you, councilman. You never fail to flatter me.”

Sokka tilted his chin up to give her a sweet kiss. She pulled away and ran her hand up his scalp to play with his hair, “How was work today, love?”

Sokka half smiled at her, “Well the best part was you coming in here. I missed you.”

Suki blushed and gave a peck on his forehead, “I missed you too. Training Kyoshi Warriors is boring without my favorite warrior.” She gave him a half lidded glance which made Sokka’s brain explode.

He inches closer to her, resting his hand on her hip, “I must say Suki, the council meetings are very boring as well. Especially when I can’t stare at you the whole meeting” He gave her a winked which caused her to blush.

He leaned into her neck and began to kiss and suck it causing her breath to hitch.

“You looked stressed baby,” her touch soothed his fading headache, “What’s on your mind?”

“First of all Suki, “ he began to massage her hair, Suki loved it when he did that, “I love you and appreciate you asking,” he drew a heart on her collarbone which caused her to smile sweetly at him, “I’m very stressed if I’m being perfectly honest with you. I’m glad you’re here.”

He leaned in and kissed her, slowly passionately.

Suki pulled away to catch her breath, “What are you doing, Councilman? Aren’t you at work right now?” She clutched his collar, “Or am I distracting you.” She gave him a coy smile and locked her lips with his again. This time her fingers firmly running up the side of his ass.

Sokka latched his lips onto her neck as she kissed the top of his head. He brought her head down to meet him and kissed her cheekbones, running his hand up her thigh. She tilted her head back in bliss and gave him an encouraging moan.

“That was sexy.”

“You know what else is sexy councilman,” she playfully played with his ‘at home work shirt’ , “If this was off of you.” She gave him bedroom eyes and Sokka nearly dragged her to their room.

“May I?” She asked playing with the bottom of his shirt.

She smirked at him and Sokka’s voice cracked as he said, “Well, Umm. Babe I would love to fuck you right now, seriously you have no idea how tempting you’re being right now, but as you can see I’m-oh wow-”

She massaged the back of his neck and shoulders, “Your neck must hurt from all those hours at your desk, councilman. You want me to kiss it better?”

Before Sokka could answer, she began to leave sloppy kisses and his neck. Her hand brushed down his chest, over his covered abs, teasing near his hardening erection. Sokka groaned.

“Suki, you can’t just-mmm” She cut him off by gently biting his bottom lip and slipping her tongue into his mouth. Sokka moaned which was music to Suki’s ears.

“Distracted now aren’t we Councilman” She was cruel. So cruel.

“Suki, you are being so unfair right now I’m busy.”

Suddenly, the contact from his neck was lost. She sat up and frowned and made her puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck” Thought Sokka.

She pushed her bottom lip out and pretended to whine, “To busy for me?” Suki sat up and began to leave the room. She wasn’t mad. She just wanted to see what he’d do next.

Sokka looked at her and his heart sank a little. He knew she was just playing with him but the truth was he was becoming too busy. He barely saw her at night and during the day and that weighed down on him. He knew Suki completely understood that he was busy and that he loved her but he wanted to show her that he loved her. He wanted to make her feel good. Suki and Sokka express love to each other in a multitude of ways but physical touch had been where both of them could fully convey the message. It was their love language. Sokka knew that both of them had been lacking and missing each other’s touch.

Sokka sat up and gently grabbed her wrist, “Babe.”

“What, councilman?” She said in an irritated tone. She didn’t mean it at all but having Sokka between her fingers was always a treat.

He stood up, towering her. Sokka was much taller than Suki, “I always have time for my beautiful wife. But right now I have work, baby.”

Suki frowned and leaned her forehead into his chest. She looked up at him, with pleading eyes, “Please, Sokka. I miss you.” She gave him a hug and Sokka frowned. If he was being honest, he would love to take a break just to be with her but there was so much to be done. He didn’t wanna fall behind.

Well, a little break might do me well...

Sokka guided Suki back to where they were sitting. Her frown turned into a little smile which made Sokka’s heart beat out of his chest.

“Alright.” She simply said, wrapping her arms around his neck again.

Sokka leaned his lips next to her ear and said in a husky tone, “Call me pretty Suki.”

She grabbed his face inbetween her palms, gently caressing his cheekbone, “You’re pretty fucking annoying is what you are.”

Sokka pouted and Suki leaned in to kiss him, “I’m just joking, councilman.”

The auburn-haired Warrior leaned in again, this time with more purpose. She intertwined her fingers with his, tightening her legs around his torso. Sokka’s breath became shaky. He did not expect her to be so...horny when she came home.

“Hey, Suki?”

”Yes?”

He kisses her cheek, “I want to say I’m sorry. Sorry for not paying attention to you and spending time with you...There’s just so much to do and-“

She sealed his lips with another one of her delicious, loving kisses. Suki pulled away and smiled sweetly at him, “That’s alright. I understand.” She played with the collar of his tunic, “You’re a busy man.” She looked up from his collar to meet his eyes. Sokka’s face was tense and red.

She leaned the side of her head into the crook of his neck and brought her mouth to his ear, “You know, Councilman, you could use a break.” She kissed behind his ear then continued her way down his neck. Sokka thrusted his pelvis up which caused Suki to moan again. “Y-You feel a little tense, Councilman.”

Sokka met her alluring gaze and gulped, “I-I have a lot of work to do baby. I would love to fu-“

His mouth was invaded by her lips. Sokka moaned at her touch. She tugged at his bottom lip and ran her hands over his shoulders which made him arch his pelvis up again.

“You know, Councilman.” She panted.

Sokka’s erection began to harden even more. He groaned when she shifted her hips a little, “Suki, you are so sexy when you call me councilman. You know that right?”

She teasingly ran her hand across his collarbone, “I missed you so much at work.” She leaned in again and kissed him, this time making sure to moan a little, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She ran her fingers across his thighs, gently massaging them. Sokka put his arms around her lower back and pulled her closer. She squeezed his a torso with her legs. He could feel that she was very very wet, her robe was only made of silk after all.

After another kiss, Suki met his gaze again and ran her hand across his lower abdomen, just missing his lower regions. Sokka eyes were wide open and his face screamed flustered.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how, “ she kissed him again, this time massaging his hair, “Mm- I could show you how much I love you, councilman.” She slowly began to grind him through his ‘home work shorts’. She let out a seductive moan make sure to not break eye contact.

Sokka was so ready to rip her robe off take her on the floor right there. She grabbed the back his head and pulled him close, “I was thinking that maybe when I got home. I would let you blow my back out, Councilman.” She trailed her lips up his jaw and stop behind his ear, “And maybe, I could put you between my lips and suck you. I here that it’s a great stress reliever.” She moaned again, making sure to grind harder. Sokka legs were shaking a bit. He leaned into Suki’s lips, dragging his hands along her back and through her hair.

Still making out with her, he looped his arms under her legs and lifted her and him up from the seat earning an impish gasp from her. Sokka looked up at her and Suki seductively bit her lip and let out a breathy laugh as she leaned in to kiss the side of his jaw.

The strapping Water Tribe Warrior carried Suki to their bedroom and roughly dropped her on the bed, pinning her down between him. Suki giggled and pierce her way through his heart with another one of her beautiful alluring looks. He looked down at her and he could tell that she was so ready for him to rail her.

Sokka leaned down to suck her neck making her give him an ear pleasing moan, “Mmm is that a yes, Councilman?” Her back arched up as he swiped her nipple through her silk robe.

“Sokka, that feels so-mmm” She groaned as he did it again, this time pulling the fabric of her robe away. He began to gently lick her nipple and Suki squirmed and covered her face with her forearms. Pleasure waved it’s way through her body as Sokka’s hand smoothed it’s way up her leg and inner thigh. She began to massage her center. Suki arched her pelvis up begging for more.

Sokka chuckled and said to her lovingly, “Who makes you feel good, my beautiful warrior princess?”

“Only you, Councilman.” She pulled down his head and begged to enter his mouth by licking his bottom lip.

He pinned down her lower body between his legs, and he began to kiss her collarbone. Suki shrieked when he began to tickle her sides, “Sokka- I mean councilman-is that a yes? Will you take your break now,” Sokka massaged her center even harder causing her to wince in pleasure.

“I suppose I can take a little break,” he leaned down and kissed her sweetly,”Just for you of course.”

#suki #sokka #sukka #avatar the last airbender #atla #sukkafanfiction #republic city #councilmen Sokka #lemon #sukka smut

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maluminspace · 4 years

Text

Genre: Parent!sos/Fluff

Pairings: Calum Hood/Michael Clifford

Word Count: 1.8k

Dedicated to: @myfalsedevotion

Trigger Warnings: n/a

A/N: Merry christmas, lovely! I hope you enjoy this long awaited sequel to the lil malum family series.

***

“Okay cheeky monkeys!” Michael sighs, massaging his temples with his fingertips as he attempts to tune out the noise his two six-year-olds are making. “If you go and get your pyjamas on now, Daddy and I can help you put out the mince pie for santa.”

“Don’t forget the carrots for the reindeer, Daddy!” Tama laughs, still chasing his twin sister around the coffee table.

“And a glass of milk!” Bonnie screeches as she dives behind the armchair.

Michael has no idea what game they’re playing, he just really wishes they’d stop and get ready for bed. The downside to being the ‘soft dad’ is that the twins rarely take his instructions seriously. “Well if you don’t go and put your pyjamas right now, we won’t need to leave out anything for santa, because he won’t be bringing you any presents, anyway.”

The blonde man’s warning goes mostly unheard beneath the renewed giggling and squealing and he sighs in exhaustion. Having young twins is tiring enough at the best of times, but on Christmas Eve, it’s a whole other level of noise and excitement that he doesn’t think he’ll ever learn how to cope with.

Luckily, just when Michael feels like his eardrums might burst, Calum sweeps into the room leveling the twins with the stern ‘daddy’s getting annoyed’ look he’s mastered so well over the last six years. “Daddy just told you two to go and get your pyjamas on, didn’t he?” He asks, his voice level and firm.

The twins stop in their tracks, looking over at Calum as though they’re contemplating how far they can push their luck. It’s only when Calum raises his eyebrows at them, that the children quieten down. “We were just playing a game, Daddy.” Tama smiles innocently, his little round cheeks glowing pink as he realises he’s close to getting into trouble.

Bonnie is much bolder than her brother and she simply shrugs. “I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to let santa bring you lots of presents later.” Calum counters easily. “If you don’t go and put your pyjamas on right now, I’m going to eat Santa’s mince pie and take all of your Christmas presents for myself.”

Michael just about manages to stifle a giggle. Calum’s weak little threats of punishment seem to work though. Tama immediately runs off up the stairs, he hates getting into trouble and will avoid it whenever possible. Bonnie, on the other hand, is a defiant little girl and attempts to stare Calum down, her dark brown eyes strangely intimidating beneath the loose strands of curly black hair falling over her face. “Do I need to start a countdown, young lady?” Her father asks, refusing to let her stubbornness get the better of him.

After what feels like an uncomfortably long moment, Bonnie finally backs down and heads off into the hallway.

“If she’s this defiant now, what’s she going to be like as a teen?” Calum huffs, as he flops down on the sofa next to his husband. “I’m dreading those years.”

Michael shrugs, snuggling into Calum’s side. “Can’t we just enjoy tonight, before we start worrying too much about the future?” He asks, “By the time next Christmas comes around, everything will be different…”

Wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders, Calum nods, a soft smile gracing his face. “It will, I’m excited for it, though.” He whispers, pressing a kiss into Michael’s soft blonde locks. “I just hope the kiddos take the news well.”

“We’ll find out in a few minutes, won’t we?” Michael smiles nervously. As excited as he is about the special gifts hiding in the shiny boxes under the elaborately decorated tree, he can’t help feeling a little anxious at how the twins will react to the contents.

Calum nods, hugging his husband a little tighter to reassure him. “We’ll cope with whatever they throw at us, angel.” He mutters quietly. “We always do.”

Giggling again, Michael nestles his head into calum’s shoulder. The couple lapse into a moment of silence, each of them reflecting on the past year and the new one that’s about to begin. Their thoughts are interrupted by the booming footsteps of the twins, thundering across the landing and down the stairs.

“I’ll get Santa’s mince pie and milk.” Calum sighs, reluctantly getting to his feet before disappearing into the kitchen.

Michael’s relieved when the twins scurry into the room, each dressed in cute seasonal pyjamas. Even when they’re excitable little terrors, it’s hard to deny how adorable they are. Their dark, curly hair, plump rosy cheeks and friendly brown eyes make them appear like miniature versions of Calum. Not for the first time, Michael wonders whether that’s part of the reason why he’s so soft with them sometimes.

“When can we have our Christmas Eve presents?” Bonnie asks, clambering up onto the sofa next to her dad. “We did as we were told…”

Michael smiles fondly, tapping the seat on the other side of him to invite his son to join him. “Daddy’s just gone to fetch the stuff for Santa, once that’s all in place, we can see about your Christmas Eve boxes, yeah?”

Tama claps excitedly as he settles into Michael’s side, a beaming smile on his face. “Have you and Daddy got something to open, too?” He asks, glaring up at his father curiously.

“Not this year, buddy.” Michael replies carefully. “We’ve got, something extra special for you two, instead.” He looks from one twin to the other, grinning at their excited expressions.

“Come on, you two.” Calum chimes as he carries a tray full of various goodies to leave for Santa and the reindeer into the room. “Let’s get everything ready.”

“Can we open our presents first?” Bonnie asks curiously, “Daddy says we have something extra special this year.”

Calum rolls his eyes. “Did he now?” He fixes Michael with a warning glare before turning his attention back to the children. “Well they’ll still be extra special in a couple of minutes when you’ve laid out the treats for Santa.”

Bonnie sighs as though leaving the goodies on the mantelpiece is a great inconvenience to her. She slides off the sofa and heads over to Calum anyway, reaching up to take the mince pie from the tray before stepping over to the fireplace. Michael helps Tama back to his feet before they both join Bonnie and Calum at the mantelpiece.

Once the mince pie and milk are displayed clearly on the shelf, each of the twins place a carrot on the hearth, ready for the reindeer.

The little family take a minute to check that everything’s ready for Santa Claus's arrival before Tama tentatively broaches the subject that he and Bonnie are most excited for. “Presents now?” He asks, soft eyes searching both of this father’s faces.

“As long as you promise to go to bed with no fuss, as soon as we tell you to.” Calum stipulates before gesturing towards the sofa. The twins squeal with delight as they skip back over to the sofa and climb onto it.

Opening a Christmas Eve box has been a family tradition for the Hoods since Michael had moved in with Calum almost ten years ago. It was something they’d happily continued to enjoy once the twins were born. They usually contain little treats like candy canes, fancy or flavoured hot chocolate, fluffy socks and sometimes even a little novelty festive gift. This year, the two fathers had included some of those things for the twins, but there was one special item hidden at the very bottom of each of the boxes.

Michael’s excitement is almost at the twins’ level, as he picks up the two identically wrapped parcels from beneath the Christmas tree. He hands one of them to Calum, sharing a nervous but fond look with his husband before they both head over to the twins.

“Okay, kiddos.” Calum smiles, checking to see who’s gift he’s holding. “We want you both to open these at the same time, okay?”

The children nod enthusiastically as their fathers place a box in each of their laps. “Can we do it now?” Bonnie asks, her brown eyes glimmering as she stares down at her prettily wrapped parcel.

Calum takes a deep breath, intertwining his fingers with Michael before he gives them the go-ahead. Michael can practically feel Calum’s anticipation as the two of them watch the twins tear off the wrapping paper.

Bonnie is the first to open her box, pulling out a little bag of chocolate coins and licking her lips.

“Those are for tomorrow, young lady.” Calum giggles, stroking Michael’s knuckles with his thumb gently. “You know the rules.”

“We can have this tonight, though, right?” Tama asks, holding up a little sachet of hot chocolate and a snowman shaped mug.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Michael grins, “I’ll go and make it for you in a minute.”

Tamma smiles gratefully as he turns his attention back to the box.

“I like my snowman mug!” Bonnie exclaims, “he has a red scarf on!”

Both of the fathers chuckle at the twins’ reaction to each of the other little treats in the box. They each pull out their traditional pairs of fluffy, christmas themed socks and a tiny cuddly reindeer. Michael shuffles closer to Calum, his anticipation at an all time high as Bonnie and Tama pull out the last item in their Christmas Eve boxes.

The twins exchange a slightly bewildered glance as they pull out the t-shirts. They never usually receive clothes on Christmas Eve, so their confusion is understandable.

“Why don’t you see what’s written on them?” Calum prompts, tightening his hold on Michael’s hand.

Tama unfolds his red t-shirt carefully until he can see the writing on the front. Bonnie does the same with her green one and they both stare down at them with befuddled expressions before checking out each other’s.

“‘Best Big Sister’ and ‘Best Big Brother’?” Bonnie ponders out loud, turning her confused expression onto her dads. “But we’re the same age.”

Michael laughs as he and Calum both kneel down on the floor in front of their children and hold out their free hands to them.

“That’s right.” Michael smiles apprehensively. “But the new baby will be quite a bit younger than you.”

“New baby!” Tama exclaims, a bright smile brightening his features. “We’re getting a little brother or sister?”

Calum nods as Michael fights back happy tears. Bonnie shrieks with excitement as she and her brother lunge forward to hug their dads tightly.

“The baby’s already very lucky.” Michael sniffles, placing a kiss to each of the twins’ foreheads. “Because they’ll have the best big brother and sister in the whole world.”

“They’ll have the best Daddies in the world too.” Tama adds, his beaming smile stretching further across his face.

Calum wipes a tear from his eye as he plants a kiss to the top of each twin’s head and then to Michael’s lips. “I think we’re the luckiest ones.” He whispers.

Michael couldn’t agree more.

Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @thrillchaser @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @valentinelrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @theagenderwhocriedwolf @myloverboyash @easiercake @irwinkitten

#love you Vicky!#malum #malum blurb #malum fic #5sos #parent!malum #dad!michael #dad!calum #parent!sos #dad!sos #dad!malum #soft!malum #5sos blurb #5sos fic #my writing #otp: forever through it all #i’m making or writing little gifts for some of my very faves!

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finalfucketry · 6 years

Text

The Path Including You - Ch. 3

M - Mild Smut

Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Reader, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Pregnancy, Threesome

After growing up together, now married Luna and Noct have a big favor to ask. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lunafreya walked with you to the garden, looking pensive and distracted. She had told you she needed to discuss something important, and it made you nervous just how worried she looked. Finally, she seemed to gather her resolve, taking your hand and sitting you on the bench with her.

“You know that... Noctis and I have been trying to concieve an heir...” she began. You nodded. It was still a source of slight pain that you tried to ignore. No matter how much they involved you in their relationship, that was something that was withheld. Mostly because there was a severe risk of discovery. It wasn't unusual to see the three of you being affectionate within the castle, but if anything escaped into the public things could get bad. The royal line was simply too precious to spread elsewhere.

“We've recently discovered that I am unable to bear a child, Noctis's heir cannot come from me...” she confessed, looking out at the flowers with a sort of resignation. You wrapped your arms around her and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Luna....”

She took a breath and kissed the top of your head, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek.

“We have something to ask, something... Perhaps a bit selfish...” she warned. Your heart beat quicker. You had an inkling where this might be going, but it was hard to believe.

“The child must be of Noctis's own blood, and if... If we were to choose anyone to carry his child...” she said, meeting your eyes finally. Your heart beat even quicker.

“You... Want me to have Noctis's baby...” you concluded. She smiled, and it relaxed you.

“You are under no obligation, we know this is an unusual proposal... We would rather someone we know and care for than to use artificial means. Though we won't object if it comes to that.”

You took a breath. To be able to do something so special for the ones you loved most.

“And how... Would insemination happen?” you asked a little awkwardly. Luna flushed just a little but kept her smile.

“Noctis would like to bed you, as would I.”

That's what you suspected.

“I would consider it an honor,” you answered finally.

Lunafreya guided you down into the bath, and you reclined against the side. The aches in your body were starting to be soothed, and briefly so were your nerves. Luna unpinned your hair, brushing her hands through it and running her hands lightly over your torso. You grabbed her arm and kissed it.

“I'm supposed to be the one bathing you,” you said. She brushed your hair from your face.

“Tonight you are royalty,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“At least join me!” you urged. She didn't need much convincing. When Noctis knocked at the door and opened it to check in on the two of you, he smiled at the sight of you resting on top of her as she ran a soap covered cloth lightly over your body.

You stepped into the dimly lit bedroom with only an airy robe, smiling at the candles and the smell permeating the room. Noctis was reclining on his hands at the edge of the bed with no shirt, watching the two of you enter the room.

“Alright, I know you didn't think of this yourself,” you teased him. He huffed and crossed his arms.

“Says who? Maybe I like candles,” he protested. When you smiled, he returned it just barely and opened his arms. You didn't hesitate to push yourself into them, wrapping your own around his torso. You buried your faces in each other's necks comfortingly.

“You smell nice,” he said suddenly, making you giggle nervously against him.

“You too.”

Lunafreya had climbed onto the bed and now sat on her knees, waving you over. You climbed obediently onto the bed and she kissed you before laying you down with your head resting in her lap. Her hands combed through your hair relaxingly, and Noctis watched for a second before joining you. As his hands deftly removed your robes, he somehow ended up straddling you. He paused his actions catching sight of your face and grinned a little.

“This looks kinda familiar,” he stated. You looked at him with confusion. A half second later, his hands descended and his fingers dug familiarly into your ribs and stomach. You couldn't hold back a soft shriek and your laughter as you writhed under him. You tried to fight him off but Luna had joined in, holding your arms just like she had all that time ago. You finally managed to gasp out a surrender before he stopped, brushing your hair back affectionately.

“Quit being so tense. It's fun, promise,” he said with a smirk. You flushed and nudged him, surprised to find that he'd actually begun to harden on top of you.

“I know it's fun! This isn't my first time, just my first with someone I really like,” you purred and gripped his arm to tug him down for a kiss. He hummed thoughtfully.

“Okay, how about Luna goes first?” he suggested.

“Noctis...” Lunafreya warned but stopped when she saw you smiling widely.

“I think that's a perfect idea,” you answered. Noctis moved off you with a grin and you rolled over, climbing up and kissing Luna while you pushed her down on her back. She didn't let you pull away, instead threading her fingers through your hair and intertwining your legs. When you finally had to break for air, you saw out of the corner of your eye, Noctis slipping out of his pants and palming himself through his boxers.

“I think your darling husband wants a show,” here, Noctis paused his actions, “may I?”

A smile graced her lips and she nodded.

Luna's body arched as you lifted her dress, and you made quick work of her bra. Your kisses trekked down to her breasts and you took her into your mouth, sucking on the delicate skin. She gasped and her leg reflexively came up between yours, grinding against you and making you moan against her.You smiled as you felt her press against the top of your head, urging you downward. How could you refuse? Your mouth explored her skin, wanting to find all the places that made her composure break, that forced soft gasps from her and made Noctis groan somewhere next to you. Your fingers traced over her clothed sex, relishing in how wet it had become. She tried to slide her underwear, the last remaining barrier, down her legs but you batted her hand away.

“I'm afraid you're not in charge tonight, My Lady,” you taunted. Still, you acquiesced, removing the offending article and tossing it off the bed. There wasn't much respite before you situated yourself between her legs, tracing your nails over her thighs as your breath ghosted over her. Your tongue dipped between her folds, turning her gasps to soft moans. Your fingers grip at her hips as she arches them towards your mouth. Your tongue explored every inch of her, pressing against her clit, trying to find all the places that would bring moans out of her. It slipped inside her and she writhed a little under you, making you hold onto her and continue to push further into her. Her breathing was becoming more labored, it was only driving you forward with need. You replaced your tongue with a finger, slipping the digit in easily as you went back up to suck on her clit. You curled your finger inside her and she moved her hips reactively. You lapped at her as much as you could before needing to break for air. You pulled your finger out and cleaned it off, and felt hands grab you around the waist and pull you backwards. You gasped as Noctis curled his body around yours, his cock pressing against you (you hadn't sene him taking off his boxers), and spoke lowly.

“You're greedy,” he accused, giving you a kiss before releasing you. You stuck out your tongue but he simply pushed past you to take your place between Lunafreya's legs, and continued where you left off. It was clear he knew her body far more intimately, from the way she was gasping and moaning. It made sense, and it was kind of a turn on to watch. You decided to assist, occupying your mouth with her breasts again. He wasn't at it long before her body shuddered under you.

Luna, who was now even more relaxed, sat behind you and massaged circles on your back as Noctis's mouth moved over your now naked body. Mostly searching for spots that made you gasp, and going over them again when he found them. As Luna's hands moved higher, her fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot on your neck just below your jaw that made you gasp. She nudged her husband.

“Noctis...” she alerted him, he looked up. Her fingers ran over the spot again, and you flushed and squirmed, whimpering quietly. His eyes were instantly alight and he slid back up your body, leaving an experimental kiss on the spot. It brought a needy whine from your throat. He immediately switched to love bites and laving the spot with his tongue. The effect had you gasping out breathy moans and tugging him closer, bowing your entire body up to meet his. When his name escaped you he let out his own noises of appreciation and couldn't restrain himself from grinding against you.

“S-Sorry... I--” but you kissed him to cut him off.

“Please... Noctis... I've been trying really hard not to push you down and take you myself...”

Out of your eye you could see Noctis's flushed face against your neck, and the sound of Lunafreya's laughter from behind you.

“So you're... Really sure?” Noctis asked again. He was poised between your legs already, hovering just above you while Lunafreya sat to the side and watched with some interest.

“Well it would be a silly time to turn back, wouldn't it?” you replied. He opened his mouth and you closed it.

“I promise, I'm absolutely positive I'd like to do this. As long as you're sure.”

He studied you for a moment longer before sitting up and pulling you with him. You straddled his lap, shivering as his cock rubbed against your thigh. His hands moved to cup your backside and lift you a little. You took a breath and pulled him into another kiss as you sat yourself down on his cock, feeling him slowly entering you. His moans were immediate, muffled by the kiss. It was still a huge turn on. You let out a shuddering breath, getting used to the stretch of his cock inside you. The sound of his breathy moans as you were completely filled with him was making you want to go faster, but when you moved you started slow. Rolling your hips, then with his help letting him thrust into you. You reached down to stroke your fingers over your clit, Noctis's eyes following them every inch of the way. He growled in frustration at the shallow thrusts and laid you back roughly, hiking your legs around his waist and pulling your hand away from touching yourself. It didn't last long, it was replaced by Luna's, slipping between the two of you and rubbing circles, precise and delicious in the way that belayed her practice. You made sure the moans you gave off for Noctis were loud enough to hear, loud enough to spur him into thrusting harder and deeper. Instead your arms came up around his neck, pulling him close, close enough to start kissing and nipping at your neck. Which only make you moan more, which only made him thrust harder. His own breaths were becoming more labored, and his thrusts were getting erratic. You were both still young, and fairly inexperienced. When he and Lunafreya both find particularly sensitive places, you tighten around him. His moans were now as loud as yours, and Luna was making it her mission to get you to come first. The thought of hearing Noctis like that, feeling him filling you up, getting you pregnant of all things... It made you come unexpectedly, holding tightly to him as you rode it out and moaned against his head. It didn't take much longer for him to follow.

#FFXV Fanfic #FFXV Writing #Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Reader #lunafreya nox fleuret #Noctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret #M Rated

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86quills · 7 years

Text

Pounding Heart

Wham!

“Don’t you dare…” Sakura took a deep breath, heart hammering in her chest as she tried to keep the flood of panic at bay. “Don’t you dare die and leave me with your pervert cousin…” Because if you do, I’m pretty damn sure he’d lose his shit and then your whole fucking clan is going to murder me, revive me and then murder me again…she almost threw up at the thought.

Another powerful, chakra enhanced fist pounded his chest and then another and another.

Itachi gasped, choking on air as his back arched in pain, dark eyes wild and dilated. Cradling his head in her lap, Sakura unconsciously placed a tender kiss on his temple, sagging in relief and drawing his dazed attention. “Please don’t ever fucking do that again, Itachi…” she whispered, pumping her chakra into him to stabilize his vitals.

Shisui dropped down beside them and she had never been more happy to see him.

“He’s alive…” she assured, getting ready to haul him across her shoulders, but Shisui beat her to it.

Her eyes were already assessing the damage he’d taken—bruises and lacerations, a broken rib or two judging by his breathing and low on chakra. About to protest, Sakura bit her tongue when he shook his head and gave her a pained smile. “I’ve got him. I need you free in case there’s another war party on the loose.” In case you need to escape and leave us behind…

She tsked and stepping forward, placed a healing hand to his side to mend his ribs. “Don’t be dramatic.”

He stole a quick kiss much to Sakura’s chagrin. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Save your energy. You’re going to need it for the run back home.”

…

Sakura was exhausted. A stay-in-bed-all-day type of exhausted where the only thing she wanted to do was sleep and flop around, maybe eat if she could manage, but mostly just sleep. But damn, she couldn’t. With a tired groan, she rolled out of bed and dragged herself to the shower.

An hour later, she was walking into the Uchiha compound, mentally preparing herself for what would certainly be a very long day. She briefly wondered how she got sucked into doing this and then remembered that it was all Tsunade’s fault. How convenient of the blonde to offer up her apprentice to oversee the annual Uchiha shinobi physicals. Ugh, who did I piss off in my past life?

Personally, Sakura would’ve just forced everyone to show up at the hospital by threatening each and every one of them with low ranking missions, but ‘in the interest of clan relations’, Tsunade had given them this small inch. Though Sakura knew it was simply to shut the Uchiha elders up.

“Sakura-senpai!”

She looked up and waved, making a beeline for where the others had set up shop. The medics had commandeered one of the many traditional homes on the Uchiha compound and had partitioned the space into smaller, private rooms for the physicals.

“Catch me up, Moegi,” Sakura said as she accepted the steaming cup of coffee from the young, doe-eyed medic in training.

“Five medics on site, including you. Rooms have all been set up and everything’s good to go, Sakura-senpai.”

“How many Uchiha are we expecting?”

“Forty-seven.”

Moegi helped Sakura into her white chief medic coat as the others walked onto the roka. Sakura could’ve killed Tsunade right then and there when she saw who she was saddled with. All fresh, doe-eyed girls. Fan girls. Masquerading as medics in training. This had to be payback for swiping a few bottles of her best sake. Granted, these physicals would be easy enough for their skill levels, but what the hell! She didn’t need to deal with puddles of goo and lovesick babies today. Suppressing a sigh, Sakura took a deep breath. She’d been doing that a lot lately it seemed.

“I demand complete professionalism today, ladies. Lose that and I’ll have no issue kicking your asses back to the hospital and calling for replacements. Absolutely no fangirling. Are we understood?”

“B-but Sakura-senpai, what if we can’t help it?”

She raised a brow, an almost scary smile curving her lips. “You’re medics. You better be able to help it.”

“It’s not fair. Sakura-senpai has had lots more experience dealing with beautiful men.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at their eager, yet nervous expressions. She certainly did have more experience, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t immune. She was still a hot-blooded female, thank you very much and only twenty five. Though admittedly, it did help to have two of Konoha’s most sought after bachelors as best friends. Their stupidity tended to overshadow their good looks however, and over time Sakura had developed a certain resistance.

“Complete professionalism,” she repeated. “Now get going. I can already feel a few patients approaching.”

“Hai, Sakura-senpai!”

It was easy enough to get through the physicals and much to her surprise, Sakura found she didn’t need to intervene as much as she thought she would. Uchihas certainly weren’t known for their chattiness and they only showed her medics the utmost respect. Polite. Quiet. Assessing. If they were amused by the girls and their admiring stares, they didn’t show it.

“Sakura…”

She looked up from her notes and smiled. “Hey, Itachi. Have a seat.” She pointed to the medical bed in the center of the room. “I’ll be over in a sec.”

“Shizune-san?”

“Last minute diplomatic trip to Suna,” she explained.

“Aa.”

“Shirt off, please and take a seat.”

He did as he was asked, as silent as ever. No wasted words. Finishing the last of her notes, she placed the clipboard down and walked over. She didn’t think anyone would argue about Itachi Uchiha’s masculine allure or down-right gorgeousness. He was perhaps the epitome of a Konoha shinobi. Sleek. Powerful. Devastating. So good it was downright scary sometimes.

“How’re you feeling today?”

“Fine.”

“Fully recovered I hope after last week’s ‘let me be a hero’ episode?” Sakura smiled sweetly. She deliberately invaded his personal space by stepping in between his legs and placing a warm hand on his chest, letting her chakra flow into his body.

His dark eyes flickered, gaze growing more intense. “Fully recovered, Sakura. I assure you.”

“Good.” Sometimes these men needed reminding that despite their genius, they were all still human and needed to take care.

“Now take a deep breath. Release.”

He had a strong heartbeat. Lungs were fine and his injuries sustained during their last ANBU mission were mostly healed. Her hand lingered on his left side, fingers fluttering over the oblong green yellow bruise. Served him right.

“You didn’t heal it.” His voice was deep and even. Silently, she cursed him for sounding good enough to eat. Like dark, velvety chocolate.

“How are your eyes?”

“Fine.”

She raised a pink brow and then drew closer to take a deeper look.

“Sasuke complains sometimes about headaches after prolonged use of his Sharingan. You must experience the same thing, probably worse.” There was a lilting threat somewhere in between her soft spoken words as she rested her fingers on his temples.

“Occasionally,” he murmured.

“There’s a lot of pressure that can build up when you’re channeling so much chakra into one area of your body. Because of this, your eyes tend to suffer a lot of strain.” Sakura then gently began massaging the areas around his eyes, smiling when he, whether intentional or not, let them drift closed. With every soft caress and stroke, she fed small bursts and sinewy tendrils of her chakra in and around, restoring and relaxing the strong pathways that fueled his bloodline limit.

“Does it hurt?”

Itachi offered a noncommittal grunt which she took as a no. “Shisui says it feels like foreplay. Figures the perv would somehow relate it back to sex,” Sakura divulged with an airy chuckle.

“You’ve done this for him?”

“Mmhmm. He saw me do it a few days ago on Sasuke and Kakashi and said he wanted in.” His silence was telling. “Are you feeling left out?” she teased, pushing back a stray lock of his long black hair.

“Hn.”

Sakura laughed as she finished up. “Don’t be. It’s something new I’m trying out. Consider yourselves my little guinea pigs.”

Itachi opened his eyes when she stepped away.

“Better?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and suddenly anxious to hear what he thought.

“Aa.”

Sakura smiled, resigning herself to his monosyllabic answers but still feeling playful. “Better than foreplay?”

“Much better. More like the after effects of an orgasm.” He didn’t miss a beat and she burst into a fit of laughter, shoving his shoulder as her face heated.

“It does not!”

He caught her hand and for a moment, she felt her heart stutter and butterflies rise in her stomach at the rather intimate gesture. Lacing his fingers through hers, he lifted his gaze from their intertwined hands and pulled her even closer.

“I never thanked you for saving my life.”

Sakura forced her brain to function again. “I’m pretty sure I owe you a few more lives, Itachi.”

His eyes darkened as an almost secretive smile quirked his lips, but just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

“Sakura-hime!” The shoji screen whipped open and Shisui swept in, a black-haired whirlwind so unlike the typical, stoic Uchihas she was used to.

“Hey, Shisui,” she greeted over her shoulder before turning back to Itachi who still held her hand captive. He finally let her go though after a few insistent tugs.

“Your vitals are good, all in tip top shape, to be honest,” Sakura said, jotting down a few final notes on a paper pad she had grabbed from her front coat pocket.

“Did you get to experience Sakura’s magic hands?” Shisui asked curiously, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Don’t make it sound dirty!” “It was an innocent question!”

Just then, there was a loud thump from the room next door. Sakura already knew what it was and mentally face-palmed.

“Ah, Sakura-san…”

She smiled apologetically at the handsome Uchiha who appeared in the doorway, looking mildly panicked. “Don’t worry about it, Hiro.” He nodded in relief and quickly went on his way.

Shisui and Itachi both hid a smirk, but Sakura could see it in their eyes. “Pain in the asses…”

“Can’t help that girls fall at our feet. You know, Uchiha genes and all,” Shisui bemoaned, biting back his Cheshire grin.

She rolled her pretty, green eyes and whacked him on the shoulder as she walked by to attend to the puddle of medic-goo next door.

“She’s mine,” Itachi stated after Sakura had left the room, glancing at Shisui.

He raised a brow in challenge. “Staking claims already, little cousin?”

Itachi narrowed his eyes before they both disappeared.

Later, Sakura would wonder what the hell had happened when they both showed up on her doorstep, battered and bruised.

…

#sakura haruno #shisui uchiha #itachi uchiha

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jihanted · 7 years

Text

爱你好

*the post apo!au will come out after this...... i dreamt of fluffy jun so i shall write about fluffy jun first oops

Member: Wen Jun Hui “Jun” Seventeen

Word Count: 2.4k

Short Summary: Your boyfriend loves you well. (LMAOOOO)

Genre: FLufF, romance, jun is so lovable

Warnings: light suggestive theme (NO SMUT cause im a bb)

music ♥ (best in low low volume :-))

You placed the cup of steaming coffee down on the nightstand before gently sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as the blond male shift in bed and grumble something under his breath.

“Jun... Wake up, love.”

It was a glorious yet adorable sight in front of you. Jun’s tanned shoulders peaked out of the white sheets as he turned around, his eyes slowly opening. The man you love, waking up after a rather intimate night full of kisses and exchanges of soft whispers of love, smiling softly at you with a tired yet blissful expression on his handsome face.

“Hey...” His voice was soft, low, and raspy.

You shifted and slowly laid next to him, his arms immediately reeling you in and his nose nuzzling into your neck as he inhaled your scent.

“How did you sleep?” Jun asked softly, his lips tickling your neck as his hands made it’s way under the shirt that was actually his, but was worn by you. You smiled at the feeling of his fingertips roaming delicately on your skin, like playing a soft lullaby on a piano.

“I slept well, thank you. How about you?” You asked, just as soft, as he slowly pulled away and groaned softly, stretching his body. You chuckled softly as he grinned sheepishly, his eyes sparkling.

“I slept just as well-- maybe even better...” He spoke softly, watching as you sat up and grabbed the cup of coffee from the nightstand. He slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard and watched as you carefully took a sip before handing it to him.

You watched as he blinked slowly and took a long sip of the rich coffee, his eyes slowly closing as if he was savouring it. You leaned over and lightly fixed his messy blond hair that was scattered all over the place with a fond smile.

“How can you look this good after waking up?” You asked, pouting slightly as you gently ran your thumb under his eye, making him hum and open his eyes-- immediately locking eyes with yours.

“I should be saying that to you,” Jun started off saying, his eyes trailing down to your neck, seeing the light pink marks before moving onto your collarbones and shoulders that his shirt had exposed to him, seeing the more prominent purple marks that he had created last night along with the previous few nights. He slightly smirked, looking back into your eyes, “you look so sexy and gorgeous.”

You rolled your eyes before chuckling softly, leaning over and taking the cup from his hands before slowly getting up from bed, earning a low whine and pout from your boyfriend in bed.

“Don’t just leave me here, Y/N...” Jun called out, holding up his arms with a lazy grin on his face, “Come back here... Let me undress you so we can shower together.”

You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand before sighing, placing the cup down next to it. You crawled back into bed and sat down before lifting your arms up, almost playfully. Jun grinned, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your lips, before taking off your shirt. He grinned, almost smugly, when he ran his eyes down your naked form.

You rolled your eyes before watching him get out of bed, but opening his arms for you. You laughed softly before standing up on bed and hugging him, his hands immediately finding their way to your butt, lightly squeezing it. You squealed and wrapped your legs around his waist, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Just hurry to the bathroom, you idiot.” You mumbled, lightly biting his neck, making him chuckle.

“Just for you, princess...” Jun whispered, making you roll your eyes but smile against his skin.

Putting you down, Jun took off his last piece of clothing and immediately went to open the shower. You watched as he lazily got out his toothbrush and brushed his teeth, making you chuckle softly.

“Go in first, I’ll join you when I’m done,” Jun spoke, his words slightly muffled by foam. You nodded, jumping into the shower. You sighed loudly, smiling at the warmth of the water on your skin.

After a few minutes of just standing under the water, you felt arms wrap around you, making you yelp and laugh.

After a few kisses and bubbly laughter, the shower was done. You wrapped a towel around your body as Jun ruffled his hair with his own. You were humming and rubbing moisturizer on your skin-- simple but enough to make Jun stare and smile.

“Y/N.”

You looked over at Jun and watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, holding his fringe up, “put some on me.”

You laughed softly, grabbing some moisturizer and rubbing it into his skin, pressing a few chaste kisses on his lips while doing so.

After drying yourselves up, you followed Jun back into the bedroom and found clothes to wear. You put your clothes on and watched as Jun did the same. You were glancing at his toned upper body with a smug smile.

“Are we going somewhere today?” You asked, watching as Jun finished dressing up in a black-and-grey striped shirt and simple jeans.

He simply smiled, grabbing the hairdryer and motioning you over as he sat on the edge of the bed. You rolled your eyes but walked over, sitting down in between his legs on the floor as he turned it on, his fingers gently running though your hair and delicately massaging you scalp.

You sighed with a smile on your face. Simple moments like these made you realize how lucky you are and how Jun made you felt so loved.

Minutes after, he turned it off and ran his fingers through your almost-completely-dried hair, humming as he pressed a long and warm kiss on your temple.

“Do you want to go out today?” Jun mumbled against your skin, pulling you up on the bed and hugging your waist.

You leaned against him and looked up at him, smiling, “can we go shopping?”

Jun hummed and nodded, rubbing your stomach softly with gentle circles. You grinned and kissed his jaw, making him chuckle.

“I love you,” You said softly, making him hug you a bit tighter, another kiss being pressed onto the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Intertwining your hands with Jun’s, you leaned against his shoulder with a soft smile on your face.

You had meant to shop earlier in the daytime, but instead, you and Jun just spent those hours pampering each other’s lips and skin with soft yet loving kisses. Along with that, both of you prepared lunch together and spent hours just talking, watching a movie, and eating.

Now, you were finally out shopping. But even better-- there was a night market going on and Jun seemed to be interested, especially knowing that it has been a while since you two have gone to one.

“Those lanterns are so pretty...” You mumbled, looking up at the sky, seeing lines of lanterns and lights dangling below the gradient sky.

Jun smiled, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles as he nodded, “they are quite nice.”

You looked up at him and watched as he just stared at you, his eyes twinkling from the lights above. You blushed slightly, a smile forming on your lips as Jun leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Oh, Jun-- I want to try that,” You pointed over to a booth, making Jun look over and raise his eyebrows. It was a type of food.

“Ah,” Jun smiled, dragging you over, “麻辣魚蛋 !”

You rose your brows as you laughed softly, “sorry, what?”

Jun pulled you close in the line, grinning, “I used to eat these as a kid. In China... These were equivalent to... Hm... Like hot dog stands. These are like, fried fish cakes.”

You watched in amusement when he explained simple food with sparkles in his eyes. You sighed softly with a smile before hugging him, making him blink but wrap his arms around you.

“You’re so cute...” You mumbled against him, making him chuckle but not question you.

“Next!”

You looked up and yelped softly when Jun dragged you in front, his grin visible.

“Two please!” Jun smiled, making you chuckle.

The lady who worked at the stand smiled and handed you two of the sticks of fish cakes. You blinked, puckering your lips in amusement.

Jun grinned, giving you one, but looking up when the lady spoke.

“Your girlfriend is very pretty. Very pretty fits with very handsome,” She spoke in Chinese, making you furrow your brows in confusion. You looked over at Jun, who was grinning.

“Thank you. She is.” He spoke back in Chinese, making you pout and nudge him. He simply laughed before waving and pulling you along with him, continuing to walk the lit up market.

“What did you two say? Do you know her?” You spoke, pouting a bit before taking a bit of your food, widening your eyes, “this is good!”

Jun watched you, a fond smile on his face before eating, his face content as he chewed, taking in the familiar taste.

“Jun,” You spoke, making him look over with a hum. He reached over and found your hand, lacing them with his again. You smiled, swallowed your food before speaking again, “I saw a stand where there are really pretty hair clips-- can I try one on?”

Chuckling, he nodded, sighing, “oh, the things I do for you.”

You wrinkled your nose but grinned. You both finished your food before throwing the garbage out. Immediately, you pulled Jun towards the stand.

“Hello,” An elderly woman spoke, seeing you and Jun walk in the small space that had a simple table in the middle filled with hairbands, pins, and more.

“Hello,” You and Jun both spoke in at the same time, glancing at each other.

She smiled, the ends of her eyes crinkling, “is there anything particular that you two are looking for?”

You shook your head, smiling, “I’m just going to look around. Everything here looks adorable.”

She smiled, laughing softly. You smiled back before dragging Jun around, making him chuckle in amusement.

“This one is so cute,” You awed, taking out a small pin that had a butterfly made of little blue jewels at the end. You clipped it into your hair and faced Jun, wiggling your brows.

Jun chuckled, poking your forehead before looking around and blinking when he found something that caught his eyes.

He glanced at you, who was talking to the lady about the pins and trying on other kinds.

He walked over to the other side of the small space, picking up a simple pin that had a sparkling rose stone at the end. He smiled softly at it, glancing over at you before walking over to you.

Slowly turning your around, you blinked up at Jun, who was just smiling, moving your hair to the side and pinning the clip onto your hair. You smiled up at him and tilted your head slightly before moving towards a mirror, looking at yourself.

“This is so pretty,” You awed, touching the pin that Jun had put in your hair. Jun grinned smugly, glancing at the elderly lady before nodding at her, making the elderly lady grin.

“Well, your boyfriend thinks so too, dear. How about I get you a new one of that same pin and wrap it up for you?” She asked sweetly, making you blink at Jun.

“Jun, you don’t have to buy everything I want,” You pouted, reaching out in your jean pocket to find your own wallet.

Jun scoffed lightly, smiling with a raised brow, “but I’m your boyfriend.”

Before you could even take out your own wallet, he already handed the lady the amount of money that the pin had costed.

You pouted and took the one your were wearing, off before walking over to Jun, who has the pin in a little bag in one hand, and his other hand stretched out for you to hold.

You grabbed his hand and held it, pouting as you exited the small stand space before tip toeing and kissing his cheek, earning a pleased smile from Jun.

“Thank you... Again.” You mumbled, leaning your head on his shoulder. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“Are you already tired?” He asked, almost amusingly.

“Well... It is getting kinda dark...” You shrugged, looking up at him.

The rest of the journey in the night market was amazing. More food was involved along with Jun trying to buy you more things, but you not letting him. He was pouty about it but you kissed his pout away each time and replaced it with a soft smile and tender eyes.

“Had fun?” Jun asked, glancing at you on his side, one hand on the wheel and the other hand moving over and gently rubbing your thigh.

You looked away from the window before looking at Jun, smiling softly as you found his hand with yours and rubbing his knuckles with your thumb.

“Yeah, thanks...” You softly spoke, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He hummed in approval and smiled.

“You know I love you, right?” Jun spoke softly, holding your hand with his on your thigh. You stared at him, admiring his side view and how the soft light casted on his face.

“Yeah... And I love you too, Jun.” You whispered, smiling as he glanced over and tightened the grip on your hand.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll carry you back home.”

You smiled, slowly turning your head and looking out the window before slowly closing your eyes, fatigue hitting you.

And that’s what he did.

After reaching home, he carried you bridal style all the way upstairs into the bedroom you two shared.

He gently woke you up and he brushed his teeth with you, helped take off your makeup, and helped you change into your pajamas. With you half-asleep again, he laid you back in bed, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before laying down next to you. He watched as you immediately found your way in his warmth, cuddling up to his chest and tangling your limbs with his.

He stared softly, watching you sleep soundly in his arms.

“Goodnight, love.” He spoke gently, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You shifted in his arms and smiled softly, making him chuckle and close his eyes.

With that, you both slept, basking in each other’s warmth and love.

#jun #jun seventeen #jun scenarios #jun scenario #jun imagines #jun imagine #Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines

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