#there's a shyness with so much brimming confidence behind it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cluelessgurl · 1 year

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Give In

A/N: Okay so I have not written something this long in a hot minute sooo... please ignore any mistakes or let me know and I will fix them. I wrote this after listening to a couple of songs and then got inspired mainly ‘Shameless’ by Camilla Cabello if you want to listen to it I’d recommend towards the end . lmao enjoy :)

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Female Reader

Warnings: A bit of fluff, a heap load of angst, long separation, reunion and implied smut.

Words: 2.6K

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Your whole life, you’ve known him. The day that you first laid your eyes on the Jedi temple, you laid eyes on him. He remembers meeting you a few weeks after arriving at the temple himself, you timidly peered at him whilst slightly hiding behind your masters robes. Master Windu never really approved of him from the start yet, Obi- Wan thought it wise for him to make friends and be among his peers at the temple, so your master hesitantly obliged.

‘My name's Anakin, what's yours?’ he enquired trying to conceal his own shyness with a grin; he never really spoke to many pretty girls back at Tatooine let alone at the temple. Ironically, you thought he was rather confident for a young boy, which encouraged you to match his grin ‘I’m Y/N, nice to meet you’. Anakin now smirked and held out his hand, which you shook ‘Y/N..I think we’re going to be great friends’.

Little did you both know that your friendship would blossom even further. Further than the boundary of the code would ever allow. It’s a bit trivial really, how could your masters let the two of you grow together, become a constant in each other's lives, until it really became one life shared by two souls and not expect an attachment to form. Years of training, shedding laughter, tears and blood in missions. So much so that you anticipated every move and very word the other would conjure in their mind. Yet both of you remained utterly clueless of the brewing sense of affection that swelled in your hearts since the days you were mere padawans sneaking out at night to stare at the Coruscanti stars in the courtyard to Jedi knights fighting for each other’s lives in the frontlines of the battle against the Separatists.

‘ANAKIN!!’ you didn’t care if you were in the line of fire right now, you could not give a damn ‘R-Rex I need you to handle this please, please’ you voice trembled as you spoke into your comm ‘Yes Sir’ he knew you had just seen him cornered and shot down, he knew you needed to be by his side. ‘Anakin you need to wake up right this second’ you controlled the tears brimming in your eyes, not daring to let even one shed because if you did you had accepted the worst. ‘Anakin GET UP’ you uttered firmly, shaking his form on the rocky floor continually for what felt like hours. He made no attempt to move or even open those blue eyes of his so you closed your own. Finally, the tears shed down your face, you laid your head on his chest trying to hear his heart ‘A-Anakin stop this please.. Just stop’ you spoke between sobs his life force was nowhere to be detected ‘I cant feel you! Stop please don’t do this to me’ ‘I CAN’T FEEL YOU’ you bellowed into his neck repeatedly.Throughout the years of fighting in this godforsaken war you had faced torture by the hands of your captors time and time againbut this, this was something beyond any pain your body ever was built to withstand, this felt as though your own heart didn’t beat, given the choice you would endure years of physical torture by the cruelest hands over this. This was pain that struck from the tip of your feet to the top of your head, rippling again and again. You gripped his arms and held them as tight as a rope and sobbed as you shook vigorously , strands of his long hair on his limp head now shaking too. ‘ I refuse to live knowing I failed to save you! I refuse’ you didn't want to face not having the opportunity to hear his voice dampen the dark thoughts you carried in your head, not being able to see his signature smirk that you had found so annoying before but now when you look back on it, you remember how his eyes at the corners of his face would crinkle when he would smile or smirk, how his presence was the closest thing you had ever felt to home so warm so soothing, how you loved the sound of his laughter especially if you made it happen. No. No. You could not give in to this, this can't happen. You forced your pained body to sit up, your knees now cut up by the shards of rock and shrapnel now pushing into you knees as you bent, forcing all the pain behind you closed you tear soaked eyes and called out into the force and pulled each and every corner of its unfathomable depth and did your utmost best to soak it in and push it out towards Anakin’s body. It was the greatest plea for mercy you had ever attempted, it had to work. It has to. He’s the chosen one, he’s the order’s most powerful, he’s the most valiant knight in this war…he’s your Anakin .It has to work.

The silence that followed was deafening despite the marching of the droids and the yelling of your troops in the background. It left your chest heaving. He made no movement. You tightly shut the lids of your eyes, gripping your hair so hard it might rip out and turn your head facing away from his form. But- but you had felt the exhausting intensity of the force within you, so much so you swore you felt your own life force being pulled towards him like strands of thread being ripped from cloth. You swore you felt it.

Just as more tears flew out your lids, you were forced to turn your head in a flash. You felt a grip on your arm. ‘Y-y/N..’ his timid voice uttered from his bleeding lips. You felt as though you had regained your ability to breathe ‘Anakin.. You’re really here? That's you right?’ There was a moment of silence as he found his words, finding it difficult to move much until he spoke again ‘Well who else would it be?’ he spoke sarcastically. How he’s able to maintain his humour in a moment like this is truly beyond you . You bitterly scoffed ‘Guess your sense of humour survived’ you smiled through your tears just glad to see his own toothy grin etched on his scarred face ‘You’re no where near funny though, I’m sick of the stunts you pull’ ‘Y/N’ he interrupted but you continued ‘I swear to the maker I’m so done with you’ ‘Y/N’ I’m telling the council to keep me away from you’ you rambled ‘Y/N listen to me!’ ‘What?!’ you replied frustrated as you finally found it within yourself to look him in the eyes, you immediately melted. ‘I’m in love with you.. And you’re right I’m stupid for waiting this long to know it and letting it get this far, I felt your pain, I felt everything and I still feel you within me I think I always will, I don't ever not want to feel it again, I’m so utterly in love with you’. As soon as he finished, you did not leave it even a second to give in, give into the urge you both knew you nurtured over the years and you kissed him, it was the most beautiful culmination of the closest bond Y/N and Anakin had ever had, they were finally one. It was soft and tender, both their bodies intertwined ‘I love you too, more than anything or anyone in this whole galaxy, I love you’ you breathed out. The biggest smiles that had ever decorated their faces, hands tightly held. Their love was not bound or complicated anymore.

Until it was. ‘Jedi Knight L/N, step away from Skywalker immediately.’ the sharp voice of your master tore through your ears. You looked up to see him and Master Kenobi looking down at both of your figures tightly woven. Rex must have called for back-up as soon as you told him to take over, knowing the battle was too much for the troops to handle alone. Both you and Anakin had been so immersed in one another you had not felt the familiar presence of your masters, but both of you knew that they had witnessed your admission of love. All of it. ‘You both have disgraced all that the Jedi Order stands for, you have acted selfishly, unrepentantly indulging in the apparent attachment you have formed, almost jeopardising the Republic and the war.’ As their harsh expressions stared at you, you both peered at each other, looking into his deep blue eyes whilst Anakin focused on yours.

And that was the last time in a year you had seen them and he had seen yours. They told you that you should be grateful that you had not been expelled, that you should be grateful that you had been forgiven. It didn't feel like a relief, it felt a punishment. The most cruel one at that. Never had you been kept apart like this, the first separation you had faced since your padawan days, like a tree torn from its roots. The council kept both of you busy with one gruelling mission after another consecutively, systems apart.

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After a particularly harrowing mission from Hadros the Republic frontier, Anakin was finally sent back ‘home’ to Coruscant. The war seemed so mechanical now. He felt no different than the droids, sent to fight as though it was automated. What was the meaning of it all if you were supposed to fight for it but not care for it, no attachments. His head reminded him yet again. Obi- Wan insisted he sympathised with him yet he had drilled this further into his mind after.. He didn’t let his mind wander to her. It was too painful. Ever since that day on the battle of Caraxes, where you brought his essence to life, he had felt a tight tether to you. He meant what he said, he felt everything she had felt, her pain, her tears. He believes the force has tied a knot, intertwining him and you. A part of Y/N in him. He swears sometimes, he hears whispers of your voice in his mind when he’s in pain, which has only happened more now that he's kept apart from you. He shuffled restlessly in the bed of his quarters, sleep has not been a familiar friend of his, your memories on the other hand, had been. He needed to attempt to control his qualms so he decided to take a familiar walk in the temple, in the quiet safety of the night.

Your ship the Custodian, had just arrived back to Coruscant deep into the night after it had sustained unmanageable damage. This particular battle had taken a heavy toll on your troops and especially on you. The war had caused so much loss, and taken too many lives. This battle had taken the lives of a large part of your troops, their deaths had hit you to the core of your being. Death ever since Caraxes, had the most scarring effect on your mind, every death you witnessed, was a callous reminder of him.. his memories constantly haunted you. Coming back here on top of the heavy feelings you carried was inexplicably painful. The temple carried far too many memories you two had shared. Joyful ones, a stark contrast to the memories you had made since the day you parted. Your mind felt so burdened by the past year and this mission that your mind was brimming with dark thoughts.You needed a release, you felt yourself wanting to cry and so you found your feet wandering to the familiarity of the temple courtyard. It was a stormy night filled with lighting and relentless rain, which is rare for Coruscant, ‘but I guess that conceals the very obvious tears falling from my face’, you pondered, ‘At least the maker has shown mercy’. You found yourself in the centre of the courtyard, pulling your lightsaber out to release some tension by training, it's the nearest thing to a distraction you had found along the way. The deep blue hue reflected on the drenched ground, as your tunic became further damp. The swift, violent strike of the saber whooshing against the whistling wind. Your wet hair swayed messily, tears mixing within the rain as the force grasped for your attention. You swore you felt his presence, but you dismissed it as a cruel deceit of your mind. It had been tormenting you with his voice every now and then, almost taunting you for being torn apart. You continued.

Anakin paced, evidently on edge as the rain poured and the wind roared, his eyes roamed aimlessly until a clear blue hue similar to his own in the distance caught his eye. He felt himself impulsively walking towards it with no care for the rain that now dripped down his face and soaked his battle-worn armour. He wandered as slow as his legs would allow, scared to face the possibility that his mind had yet again betrayed him. Yet when his eyes fell on her figure, skillfully striking her saber just the way he had become accustomed to all these years, he stopped dead in his tracks, she was beautiful. Although his mind should be racing with thoughts, her being in such close proximity to him quietened every thought he had plaguing his mind in the past, he became focused on the present, a present with her, as he yet again made steps towards her .

Shivers envelop her, as his hands slowly ghost down her arms. A soft stroke, that both could never allow to be a mere memory. Y/N let out a hushed gasp, goosebumps appearing as her eyes closed, soaking in the feeling of his touch. He had been deprived of her and now as he heard her gasps under his touch he was desperate to hold her in his arms as close to his firm as physically possible. His mind wandered to avenues they had never dared venture to, it was a cavernous desire forged by his relentless yearning for her. It became explicit to her that his mere presence was intoxicating, the type of intoxication that forces one to relinquish any morals, any code that confines them. She turned to face him steadily, looking at his eyes, still the familiar blue that reminded her of home, but darkened with thoughts she wasn’t trained to comprehend. After a distance of systems, now remained inches in between us, through the sound of the cracks of lightning that lit up both their faces in intervals and the heavy pattering of rain, the two could discern a dense tension in the air as deep, sharp breaths were drawn between them that could be felt on their faces. As she glimpsed at his rain dripped lips and he did hers both their voices echoed in the bond of their tied minds. ‘I want you to give in’. These whispers were electrifying so much so, that they both truly gave in, closing the gap that had been created in between by the same order that intertwined their souls from the first day they met when timid smiles were shared between the two. Now, their bond had grown far beyond the boundaries set as Anakin gripped her face with an unwillingness to ever let go again and clashed his soft lips hungrily against hers. Y/N roped her arms around his arms just as tightly as she had that day he almost left her side forever, making sure to never let go again no matter the order, the restrictions that had trapped them their whole lives. They both didn’t care if they were forgiven.

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

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Can you do some more long haired shadowhunter lore?

Have a Happy Writing Wendsday!

here we go! thank you it's already off to a fun start ^_^

~ lumine

Magnus is absolutely positive that he’s never met the gorgeous shadowhunter he’s led to in his life, even if he apparently has. That is until he realizes who he’s meeting and recalls a vague, unimportant memory of meeting one of the Lightwood’s children on his way out of the Institute.

Magnus remembers hurrying away from the curious child, not wanting to stay in the Institute a moment longer and he regrets that now, leaving what was surely a terrible impression.

It’s with pleasure that Magnus watches Alexander comport himself with the dignity of an Elder and then he — willingly when Magnus asks — turns his back to Magnus to personally lead the way.

His hair flows long and dark behind him. Thick too, with more fluff than shine but the braids are neat and heavily charmed. If he were any less strict with his own manners, Magnus would be tempted to reach out and touch. There is something about Alexander that is intoxicating and calling to Magnus and Magnus wonders just how he’s going to woo such a stoic man.

At least, that is his thought until he’s led down a hall, past several doors brimming with magic to a large room that dips down onto wood that had to come from Idris. It is dark and old and brimming with an old, cold power.

“The wards down here are in stasis.” Magnus murmurs as he runs his hand over the lodestone tying the runes to the room. “They’re powerful but they feed off of ritual energy, which there has been little of here.”

“Okay. So do you want to fight or fuck?” Alexander asks him and Magnus is so surprised that he nearly bites through his tongue.

“Excuse me?”

“We need to charge the lodestone for the wards, right?”

“Yes.” Magnus says, still unsure what exactly is going on and wondering desperately if it means he’s going to get what he wants. “This isn’t a price you’re going to have Clarissa pay, is it?”

Alexander scoffs and shakes his head, charms rattling in his hair. “I have given permission for the ritual to be held since the clave will get information out of it, useless or not. It is my duty to ensure this space is maintained for whatever rituals take place. I owe it to my people and myself to keep them protected from any kind of shockwaves or rituals gone awry.”

Magnus knows that one of the other ritual rooms they passed could do in a snap. Literally, he could snap his fingers and change an array or to and the other room would be just as good.

Magnus specifically does not mention this, at all.

“Well, as much as I enjoy a good fight, I’d rather fuck. Sex magic is much better for protective warding after all.” Magnus is not sure who he is fooling, or if he is fooling anyone at all. He can barely get a read on Alexander being the feral competence that surrounds him like a cloak.

Alexander smiles at him then, something soft and almost tender in his eyes and Magnus’ heart lurches, hammering against the walls surrounding it that are starting to crack.

Then he takes off his vest.

There is no buildup, no shyness.

The rest of his clothes follow into a neat pile until Alexander is standing there, naked and with his hair out of its main braid. It falls in loose waves and braid-crimped curls and smaller, tighter braids that intricately hold up dozens of charms.

Magnus swallows, mouth and throat dry and snaps his fingers, locking the door and sealing it for good measure and before he can help it, his glamour drops as well.

Alexander blinks back at him and then, with the first signs of fluster Magnus has seen on him yet, he licks his lips, pink tinting his cheeks.

It’s the most charming response Magnus has ever seen and he steps forward, confidence returned at seeing Alexander’s response to him. It’s clear that Alexander is as affected as him, but

“It’s going to take quite a bit to charge a lodestone this large.” Magnus teases, partly because he wants to get a reaction and partly because it’s true.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that.” Alexander murmurs and Magnus is about to preen he adds, “ritual sex with a virgin should even out any power deficits it would have.”

Magnus swallows, unable to help how his pupils dilate or how he steps forward, cupping Alexander’s face with his hand.

“We definitely won’t have any problems with that.” Magnus promises and he can’t help how his hand slides down and back, until he’s gripping the nape of Alexander’s neck. His fingers clutch thick, soft hair and Alexander sighs, tilting his head as if to force more pressure. Magnus tugs, clenching his fingers tighter and Alexander groans, contentment in every line of his body as he flutters his eyes open and smiles at Magnus.

There’s an almost wistfulness to Alexander’s eyes as he reaches up and slowly untangles one of the lower braids from behind his ear. It’s slim, perhaps the width of Magnus’ pinky nail and yet it has at least seven strands, tiny almost miniscule mithril hoops woven in.

“Can you cut it, right here?”

Magnus is asked and he’s surprised, but he does as asked without questioning Alexander’s choice.

There is a shudder, a little gasp of what might be pain and Alexander's hands come up to grip Magnus' biceps tightly for a moment.

The remaining length of the braid is still clamped by what was one of three mithril band and Magnus finds the design interesting. Especially when Alexander lets go of his arms and reaches for Magnus’ hand and then wraps the cut braid around his wrist. The two mithril clamps bind together and tiny little runes light up as the bracelet seals into place.

Alexander doesn’t say anything but Magnus has an idea of the significance of the braid around his wrist, both magically and socially. It’s with a croon he can’t help that Magnus pets the braid, sending a little pulse of magic through it and earning himself a wide, wild-eyed look.

Magnus snaps away his own clothes and then, because he’s nothing if not thorough, he backs Alexander up against the altar the lodestone is against.

“Shall we start?”

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #my path is set #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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CALIFORNIA KING || CHUBBY!BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Chubby!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 6,429 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, hand job, bad language words

authors note: here we are! chubs is finally here! we’re set back in Virginia in the 60s in this one, but we’re not acknowledging the bullshit of the time period. i write to get away from real world issues, and i like the clothes in this decade. you will also notice a few characters from a certain show called Lovecraft Country, because, well, I like them a lot too. please enjoy.

line divider by, you guessed it, @firefly-graphics (they’re all so pretty)

Virginia, 1964

Your heels click along the pavement as you move towards the small diner in the middle of town. The sun is high and hot, the beams beating down on your bare shoulders as you adjust your yellow rimmed sunglasses over your face. Your white purse swings off the tips of your fingers, your bracelet, a present from Bucky, clinking softly against your watch, (another present from Bucky), as you move with confidence.

Your sister Ruby moves quietly behind you, her eyes out in front, scanning the sidewalk and street as the two of you go, “You shouldn’t come out dressed like that.” She huffs in your direction as she catches the eye of two older white women moving in your direction.

You turn your head towards her and then glance at the women walking past you, their eyes dropping down to your slightly exposed midriff, then your high waisted, navy blue shorts. You push your sunglasses down your nose and maintain eye contact with them as the two women move by.

“I’m not worried about these small town hicks.” You answer loudly, turning around to walk backward so you can keep your eyes on them, “I am free to dress how I please, thank you.”

Ruby shakes her head as she laughs sarcastically, “You never did know how to act.”

“It is 1964. They just need to get the fuck over it - we are here. This is just as much our town as it is theirs.” You spit, tossing your short hair slightly, “Plus, not everybody here is like them.”

Ruby closes her eyes and holds up her hands, completely uninterested in what you’re about to say, “You are playing with fire with that sheriff,” she hisses quietly, “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

You shrug defiantly, “Fine, then don’t. Let’s just get our rootbeer floats and not argue for once, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” You seethe, flicking your wrist towards her, ending the quick squabble. You grab the door handle and pull open the door to the diner, stepping to the side to allow your sister to pass, “After you.”

Ruby cuts her eyes towards you and smirks unenthusiastically before she crosses through the threshold. You roll your eyes and follow in behind her, removing your sunglasses and shoving them in your purse as you follow her to the front counter. The two of you sit side by side, Ruby smoothing her hands over her green, pleated swing dress, you waving down the young waiter.

“Afternoon ladies, it’s a hot one, huh?” he asks nicely, smiling at the two of you as he slides menus in your direction.

“It is, thank you,” you start, glancing over the menu, “I think I’m going to have a burger and fries, with a rootbeer float.”

“Great choice, and you, Ruby?”

She smiles, handing her menu back to him, “An olive loaf sandwich please. Potato chips, and a rootbeer float as well.”

“I’ll have it right up ladies.”

He disappears into the back and you and Ruby fall into your usual rhythm, practically ignoring each other. The front door chimes as a group of women move inside, their giggles filling the relatively quiet diner. You eye them as they move by, catching the glance of one Dottie Bodecker, your arch nemesis since grade school. Her blonde hair swings back and forth behind her head as she smiles at you, wiggling her manicured fingers as her group moves to the end of the long bar, taking up four seats.

“So Dottie,” you hear one of the brunettes start, “Do you think tonight’s the night? You think Sheriff Barnes is going to ask you to go with him to his re-election fundraiser?”

You flick your eyes towards them, drawing in a deep breath at the sound of his name. Dottie turns her head towards you, her blue eyes linking with yours where she smiles quickly before turning back to her friends, “I think so.” She answers cheerfully, another giggle escaping her lips, “We have been getting so close lately. I really think he’s gonna ask me to start going steady.”

You scoff loudly before laughter falls from your lips. Ruby hits your leg underneath the counter as you pull out a cigarette and place it between your lips, lighting it. You feel their eyes on you as you flick the butt of the cigarette, ridding it of the ash that’s built up and take another slow drag. You keep your eyes forward, not wanting to engage because you know if you engage -

“Here we go ladies,” the waiter says, cutting through your thoughts, “A burger and fries, an olive loaf with potato chips, and two rootbeer floats. Enjoy.”

Heat blooms across your skin as anger starts to brim just below the surface. You and Dottie have had the same common goal for almost six months - Sheriff James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The anger in you makes you start to wonder why the two of you are warring over him in the first place. He’s ten years older than the both of you, has a nasty divorce behind him, and by the sight of his tummy, he’s enjoyed one too many slices of Ambrosia cake. To you and Dottie though, he might as well be Marlon Brando.

It’s the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles. The way his nose scrunches when he smiles really big. It’s the softness in his voice when he says your name. The shyness that controls him whenever he’s come to bring you a flower. It’s the way he’s a dreamer - how he promises you a little house out in the middle of nowhere, complete with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. A couple of kids. A big old bed where he promises to always keep you pleased.

He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen - the softest and the sweetest too.

“Just relax and eat your food.” Ruby whispers, squeezing your knee, “She’s just trying to get your goat.”

You flick the butt of your cigarette again, “Well, she fucking got it.” You sigh, grabbing a french fry and biting it angrily.

Dottie continues to gab to her friends loudly, Bucky and I this, Bucky and I that - deep down you know it’s bullshit. He spends too much time sniffing around you to give her the type of attention she’s trying to convince her friends of, but it still gets under your skin. You eat slowly, your lips pursed, your eyes staring a hole into the wall in front of you, your hearing absolutely piqued.

“Did I tell you he drove me home from work the other day?” Dottie says, running her hand over her ponytail as her lips curl into another smile behind her red painted lips, “He even stayed for dinner.”

“Well, your meatloaf is to die for, Dottie. He would have been crazy not to stay!”

You cut your eyes over towards them again just as Dottie leans into her friends, glancing around to see if anyone is listening (as if she honestly cares), “Did I also mention that he stayed the night?”

You slam your balled fist onto the counter, rattling the plates and cups and silverware that sit on the bar. All four heads of Dottie’s group snap towards you, Ruby’s eyes going wide as her mouth drops open.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Dottie asks sweetly, venom dripping from every word.

You lift your hand and plaster a fake smile on your face, scrunching your nose as you shrug, “I’m quite alright, Dottie. Just um, dropped my fork is all.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, placing her gloved hand to her chest, “That must be a heavy fork.”

“Not as heavy as my fist will be against your -”

“We’re fine,” Ruby cuts in, a bright smile on her face as she nods towards Dottie, “Thank you for askin’, Dottie.”

Dottie smiles again as she tips her head towards Ruby, “You are very welcome, Miss Ruby.”

“Fake ass bitch.” You growl under your breath, prompting a hard pinch on your thigh,”Ow!”

“Just,” Ruby starts, widening her eyes at you, “Eat. Your. Food.”

You take another angry bite of your french fry and cut your eyes towards the glass door, staring out onto the street as you flick your cigarette again. Sheriff James Buchanan Barnes has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

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You sway your hips back and forth as your hair falls into your face. The music is loud, thumping even, as Ruby and her band plays up on the stage. An arm is thrown around your waist, pulling your closer as the two of you dance - chest to back, hips tucked into your behind. You laugh as you throw your arm around his neck and dip down low, a wider smile breaking onto your face as he moves with you.

The two of you push back up where you spin around to face him, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up on your thighs as you continue to shake your hips. You throw the material of your expensive, new dress, and then swish it around, before you drop it to raise your hands in the air and spin back around.

That’s when you see them.

Those eyes.

Those deep set, deep blue orbs that always seem to find you when in the middle of a crowd. His lips are set in a hard line, his cheeks red, his jaw tight. He sucks his teeth as he leans his elbow on the bar. He blinks, slowly, cutting his eyes towards the bartender just long enough to grab the shot that’s handed to him before they are back on you, watching you grind against the stranger behind you.

Too damn bad for him.

You grab the man’s hand and pull it tighter around your waist, keeping your smaller hand on top of his as you dip slowly down to the floor again - your eyes never leaving the sheriff’s. You break the eye contact with him to glance over your shoulder as a devilish smile curls onto your painted lips as the two of you dance, your lips dangerously close to his. You push your behind into his hips and laugh when the man hoots and hollers before clapping his hands to the beat of the music.

You flick your eyes back to the sheriff’s just as he downs the brown liquid in the small glass in his hands and slams it on the counter, immediately asking for another. You smirk and wink at him before you turn in the man’s hands that are currently around your waist and away from the hard, angry eyes bearing into you.

“Boo!”

You spin to the side when a finger presses into your side and shriek when you come face to face with your little sister, “Leti!” You shout, wrapping your arms around her neck and swaying her back and forth, “I thought y’all said you wouldn’t be back from Chicago until next week! Tic! Come here!”

You release her to throw your arms around Leti’s boyfriend, Atticus Freeman’s neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to hug him tightly as he chuckles in your ear, “We just decided to cut it short, that’s all.” He answers.

“Yeah, right,” you smile, slapping him gently on his shoulder, “You two got into some trouble up there, didn’t you?”

“Never!” Leti exclaims as she smiles mischievously, holding up her hand, “And that’s scouts honor. Listen,” she says, glancing over her shoulder back towards the bar, “I’ve heard from a few people already. They’re saying that the sheriff is asking about you at the bar.”

“Well,” You wave her off, “You can tell them to tell him to mind his goddamn business.”

“Girl, you’ve got that man seething over there!” Tic laughs, “Askin’ how you know this fool,” he says, pointing towards your dancing partner, “What his name is, when he got into town, how long you been here tonight…”

You shrug defiantly, batting your eyes at the pair of people in front of you, “Not my problem.”

“You’ve got your nerve!” Leti laughs, “Who in their right mind antagonizes the goddamn sheriff?”

“The very same one who dates the goddamn sheriff.” Tic says, shaking his head, “Y’all’s mama gave y’all balls of steel.”

Leti rolls her eyes but smiles widely, grabbing your wrists and pulling you deeper into the mass of people. The three of you dance the hours away as Ruby keeps the small club rocking. You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, out of cigarettes, and slightly tipsy when Tic wants to get you and Leti home, so you relent without a fight.

You push out into the night air, the breeze instantly cooling your balmy skin. You giggle as Leti mumbles in your ear and take a few steps into the alley before you stop dead in your tracks. Sheriff Bucky leans against the brick building, his head turned towards the street but snapping back to you when he hears your familiar laughter. He pushes away from the wall and places his hands on his hips and utility belt where he taps his nervous, angry fingers.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, pushing it out of his nostrils harshly as he turns his head towards the building again, trying and failing to maintain a calm demeanor, “Tic, I wasn’t um, I wasn’t aware you were back in town. Welcome home, soldier.”

Tic shifts his eyes to you before he nods towards Bucky and takes his extended hand, “Thank you sheriff, that’s uh, that’s mighty kind of you.”

“You’re a brave man, fighting for this country. You let me know if anybody gives you any trouble, you hear? Ms. Lewis, how are you this evening?”

“Mighty fine, sheriff. Thanks for askin’.” Leti answers, offering him a soft smile. She knows what it’s like to be on the ass end of one of your fits.

You stare at him as he nods slowly, clearing his throat again before he shifts his eyes back to you. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head as you blink at him slowly and let out a hard breath. He drops his eyes down your body, then snaps them back up to yours, his lip slightly snarled the entire time.

He points at you quickly, before he drops his hand back to his belt and glances back at the building, “May I speak to you, please?” he asks, clearing his throat again.

“What for?”

He chuckles lightly, widening his eyes as he drops them to your feet, “You know what for.” he snaps, still tapping his fingers against his hips, “Please.”

You glance at Leti and Tic, whose eyes have settled on you after the quick tennis match between you and Bucky. You sigh again, “I’ll meet you guys at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Leti whispers, pushing up closer to you, “He looks mad.”

You roll your eyes, “I can handle him. I’ll be fine.”

Leti grabs Tic’s hand and moves past Bucky, “Have a good night, sheriff.”

“You as well, Ms. Lewis.” He glances over his shoulder as Tic and Leti move down the alley, and only turns back to face you once they’ve turned the corner, “You stood me up.” He spits angrily, pointing at you again.

You shrug, indifference written on your face, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean!” he hisses, taking a few steps towards you, “Damn it, I waited forty five minutes for you.”

“You get out of my face.” you scoff, pushing his shoulders roughly.

“So I spend all day worrying about you, only to find you here with some jerk’s hands all over you!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Spent all day worrying about me, did you? That’s rich.”

“Okay,” he barks, nodding quickly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “What is it? Huh? What did I do now?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! Please! Enlighten me.”

You cross your arms over your chest again, staring down the alley. You feel his eyes staring into the side of your face, waiting for you to speak.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Why don’t you ask Dottie Bodecker what you did wrong?” you hiss, snapping your head back to face him.

His face contorts in confusion, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Dottie Bodecker? The fuck she have to do with anything?”

“Her meatloaf is to die for, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up dramatically, turning and taking a few steps away from you. He spins back around seconds later, shaking his head, “If you don’t start saying what you mean, girl!”

“You slept with Dottie Bodecker a few nights back and I’m done letting you make a fool a’ me!” you scream as your eyes squint hard.

You brush past him, bumping his shoulder as you start down the alley, walking fast as you huff, the anger bubbling. You hear his heavy feet behind you, his keys jingling as he wraps his fingers around your bicep. You shrug away from him and whirl around, pointing your thin finger in his face, “Don’t you touch me.”

“I did not sleep with Dottie Bodecker!” He hisses, “Where are you getting that load of shit from?”

“From Dottie herself. She told the entire diner this afternoon!”

“Well she’s full of it!” He shouts back, “I didn’t touch that woman!”

“But you drove her home from work?” You ask, antagonizing him, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips again, “Yes. I drove her home. She flagged me down -” You start walking again, completely uninterested in hearing his sorry ass story, “Goddamn it. Listen to me!” He shouts, grabbing your arm again, “I did not touch that woman. I have never touched her. I promise you.”

“And why should I believe you? Huh?” You ask, breathing hard, your eyes wide and bouncing between his, “Tell me!”

“Because I love you!” He shouts loudly - so loudly that it makes you slam your mouth shut, “Goddamn it!”

You watch as he starts to pace, dragging his hand through his short, dark hair angrily before he drops it to his side. Because I love you! The words bounce around your brain as he places his hands back on his hips.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That’s the first time he’s said it.

He loves you.

“You know what?” he says after a moment, turning back to face you again, “You want to continue to play games with Dottie, you go right ahead, but you leave me out of it. I have been nothing but good to you, nothing but open, nothing but doting… I’m done, you hear me? Done. Keep playin’ your little goddamn games!”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes again as he walks off, tugging at the leather jacket covering his torso. He can barely zip the damn thing. You sigh and tilt your head as he turns around the front of the building as embarrassment starts to flood through you. Your skin heats up again, but this time from the feeling of turning out to be the asshole, which doesn't happen very often (it probably should.)

The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete bounces off the buildings as you move to the end of the alley, peaking around the corner to find his police car still sitting at the curb. You spot his head resting back on the seat and put your hands behind your back as you walk slowly towards the passenger side. You lean over and glance in the window, finding his eyes closed and his hands on the wheel as he breathes in and out, in and out, in and out.

You glance up and down the street before you knock on the window, “Can I get in?”

“No.”

You click your tongue and let your shoulders slump, “Come on, sheriff.”

You watch as he exhales hard and you have to drop your head so that he can’t see the smile that forms on your lips. He reaches over and pops open the door before he straightens up in the seat, keeping his eyes forward as you slide in next to him. You chew on your lip as you blink over at him, your eyes trailing down his bicep and forearm before you start playing with your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, your voice small and slightly playful.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He answers quick, holding up his hand.

You laugh a little but cover your mouth quickly with your thin fingers as he cuts his eyes towards you. He huffs again and you start to whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the roof, “Sheriff, look at me.”

“No.”

“Come on,” You laugh, “I said I was sorry.”

“And that’s just supposed to make this all better? Right? Just because you said you’re sorry?” he asks softly, turning to face you.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to your fingers again, “Yeah?”

He laughs earnestly at your sheer audacity. You smile, biting down into your bottom lip as you send your eyes toward him, your smile softening at the sight of him. The crinkles are back. His nose is scrunched, his eyes turned into slits as he laughs. You glance down between the two of you and see a bouquet of flowers on the floorboard.

His laughter dies down and he shakes his head as he lets out a sigh, “You are such a stubborn ass.”

“But that’s why you like me, right?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving around your face, “Maybe.” He answers softly.

You grab his hand and place it in your lap, your thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles. You blink at each other, all of the anger and agitation bleeding out of you both like it wasn’t even there to begin with. He squeezes your hand and rubs the tips of your fingers with his thumb before he leans over to kiss you softly.

You moan, your eyes closing instinctively as his pillow soft lips hit yours for the first time that day. Relief and calm washes through you as he massages your lips with his and loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You're soon pressed up against his wide chest and body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and to his back. You hug him tightly to you as the intensity builds quickly, his stomach pushing over his belt and pressing into yours. You hum as his thick fingers skip up your thigh, palming your flesh softly.

His lips fall to your neck, his head nudging yours upward to gain full access to your sensitive skin. He sucks lightly, making you tense and moan as a jolt of sensation shoots straight to your sex. You grip his shoulder softly as that wandering hand moves further up your thigh - right into your dress, where his fingertips brush against your warm, tingly sex.

“Sheriff,” You breathe, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward as you rub his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am?” He answers, his voice low and heady.

“Take me home and take advantage of me, please.”

His chuckle vibrates through your flesh. He nips at your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin, “As much as I’d love to darlin’, I’m on duty.” You groan in dissatisfaction, making him laugh again, “You shouldn’t have blown me off earlier, I could have taken care of you then.”

He pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers over your soft skin, where you shiver instantly. He pulls back so that he can watch your face as he pushes between your folds, stroking your slit gently, teasing you with just the tips of his fingers. You hiss and squeeze your legs together, jutting your hips forward to try and coax him inside.

He doesn’t take the bait.

But he wants to.

He glances over his shoulder behind the car and then out in front, finding the streets bare. He can hear the muffled sounds of Ruby’s band still going strong inside the small club. There’s been no calls over the radio in over an hour. He’s got time. He kisses your mouth quickly and pulls his hand from out of your dress to turn the key, bringing the loud engine to life, filling the silent night air with noise.

You push up onto your knees as he pulls away from the curb and throw your arms around his neck, your tongue sneaking out to lick just under his ear. You smile when you feel him shiver from the contact. You plant kisses on the side of his face and along his jaw before you blow softly into his ear, making him jump in his seat. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull softly as you drag your hand down his chest and over his soft stomach where you start to fumble with his belt.

The car speeds up suddenly as he jams his foot on the accelerator when your hand slithers into his pants. You laugh when expletives fall from his lips, the car swerving as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on the road in front of you. Pumping him slowly, you grab your bottom lip between your teeth again and rest your forehead against his temple. You breathe heavily into his ear, humming and moaning as you stroke him quickly, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip.

Bucky weaves you through the empty town and finally pulls up behind the police station, blending in with the small fleet of exactly two other police cars. He loops his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer - sitting you down on the seat. He grabs your calves and throws them over his thighs and rucks your dress up around your waist. He slips his fingers underneath the band of your panties and pulls roughly, slipping them right down your legs and over your heels to throw them into the backseat.

You squeak when his thick digits push into you, his thumb flattening against your clit. He starts to pump, slow and deep, his blue eyes scanning your face as he drags in air through his open mouth. You roll your hips into his hand as he strokes your walls and teases your clit, you hooking your arm around his neck. You sit up straighter and push your chest into his side, keeping one leg thrown over his thigh, and placing the other on the floorboard - leaving you spread open.

He kisses you quickly, moaning and then hissing as your hand continues to push along his shaft. He brushes his nose against yours, his warm breath washing over your face as you nuzzle right back into him, your mouth falling open as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“God, sheriff,” You rasp, your hand halting as he strokes your insides.

“What was that, darlin’?” He whispers, his words full but languid, “What’s my name, sweetheart?”

You tense, pushing your body up the back of the seat as you squeak again, his fingers pushing deeper and harder. You buck your hips into his hand, throwing your head back, your hair tickling the exposed skin of your back, “Oh, sheriff.” you pant.

“That’s right, you sweet little thing,” He coos, “You fuck my fingers, sweetheart.”

You hum before licking your lips slowly, “I want more than your fingers, sheriff,” you say, your words rushed and hot. You lean forward and kiss him hard, placing your hands on either side of his full face, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks.

You pull away after only a few seconds, dragging in ragged breaths, your chest heaving hard. Reaching behind your back, you pull on the zipper of your dress, the material falling away from your body - leaving you naked.

Bucky inhales sharply.

You lay back on the seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he twists and leans over you. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of your chest, right between your breasts and just leaves it there for a second as he blinks. You arch your back, rolling your shoulders and head when he sweeps his fingers down your sternum, stopping at your belly button. You grab his hand and bring it to your right breast, cupping your supple flesh as you force your back away from the seat again and suck the tip of his index finger into your mouth.

He pulls his hand away reluctantly - but keeps his eyes on you as he shrugs out of his leather jacket. He blinks slowly, pulling his eyes down your smooth, brown skin as his fingers work out the knot of his tie. He loosens it quickly and pulls off the thin clip before he yanks the tie over his head and discards it to the floor. He flattens his palm on the inside of your thigh and pushes it down to your sex, massaging you again as his free hand pops the buttons of his shirt.

Your mouth drops open as you purr at the sensations rippling through you as he touches you, his fingers soft and slow, “Bucky,” you keen.

He hears the desperation - the ache - the trembling need in your voice. He wants to satisfy it. All of it. All of you. He pushes his pants low on his hips, down to his knees before he adjusts his position between your legs, leaning over you further. You grip his sides as his stomach rests against yours, his cock pushing at your entrance.

His eyes wander again, away from your face and down your virtuous body, knowing he and he alone has been the only man to boast its yield, “You’re beautiful.” The words slip off his tongue like silk. He means it.

“You’re beautiful.” You return quickly, running your hands down his soft, wide chest.

You know he doesn’t believe it when you say it. Out loud, in this vulnerable position. All of him on display. Every little roll and crevasse for you to see - he isn’t Tic. He isn’t six foot something, with cannons for arms and a washboard stomach. He’s just a man, a simple man, in love with a beautiful, bold, mischievous woman.

You dig your fingers into his flesh as he enters you, spreading you. You thrust your chest towards his as you slam your eyes closed, gasping at the fullness - the completeness - you feel. Your body starts to lunge upward, your breasts pushing with the movement. His weight leaves you as he sits back on his knees, his hips still prodding as he draws your leg up onto his chest and shoulder, dropping kisses on your ankle.

There’s fingers around your throat, squeezing gently before they venture up your chin and into your mouth. You accept them willingly as he flattens his free hand to your chest again. You stretch your arm forward, slinking your thin digits up his arm to his bicep as his hips push, push, push into yours. Soft. Deliberate. Slow. Ravishing you in the only way you know - the only way you want.

The pressure builds in your stomach, steady and purposed. He knows it - he knows you. So, he grabs your hips, pulls them closer, your legs falling over his thighs, your feet sliding along the old leather seat as he fucks you. He leans over you again, knowing you like his weight on you. He digs his hips into yours - his cock plunging into your soft, accepting cunt as he watches you. Mouth hanging. Lips red. Breath heavy.

It’s a rhythm. An intricate dance the two of you have perfected over time. Pushing and pulling. Giving and taking. The windows are foggy with the heat your bodies have created - your skin damp; balmy. Little droplets of sweat beading between your breasts. His tongue is quick to rid you of them, the droplets, pushing out from behind his lips to lap at your skin. He’d do anything to please you.

Fingers tweak your thick nipples. Rough palms grip your hips. Deep groans, low hisses fill your ears. Soft words, pretty designations falling from his lips. Affirmations of love.

“I love you,” you pant, your words shuddering with each breath, “Bucky, I-”

“I know it, doll. I know it.”

You choke suddenly as the fire spreads without warning. Your orgasm rushes through you, burning a familiar path through your wilderness. Bucky fucks harder as you come - the sound of his skin slapping against yours growing louder, his grip on your hips harder.

He loves to hear you. Crying, screeching, mewling, howling as his body peels you apart, layer by layer. He loves to watch you - shuddering and trembling, hips jerking, toes curling. It’s all he needs, all he wants. He wraps his fingers loosely around your throat again and lets himself go, strained grunts accompanying your ungodly sounds as he starts to spurt over and over.

You flatten your feet against the seat and push your hips upward - still gasping, still jerking uncontrolled as the synapses continue to fire. The additional warmth he provides as he spills into you electrifies you. No other man will know the depths of you, will fill you with his seed. You’re ruined - and you like it that way.

He collapses on top of you when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Soft skin against soft skin. You instantly corral him in your arms, pushing your dainty fingers into his soft, brown hair as he nuzzles into your neck. Breath still hard and hot. You're sticky and he’s sticky, a satisfied haze drifting into your eyes and brain, lulling you.

He pulls you up with him seconds later, his eyes darting around the empty, quiet parking lot, glancing out the back before he scans through the windshield. He pulls his pants back up over his hips and reaches into the backseat to grab the blanket he keeps stowed away, wrapping it around you. He pulls you close, slinking that long arm around your shoulder and pushing his nose against yours as a lazy smile covers his face.

You hum happily as you rest your hand on his stomach, rubbing his full tummy softly with your finger tips, “Tell me about that big ol’ bed again,” you whisper, nuzzling into his face and nose with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, smiling softly, “It’s called a California King. They make ‘em for all those stars out there in Hollywood.” You giggle, and his smile broadens, “I’m gonna get you one of those beds, I promise you.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Although,”

“Although, what?”

“I don’t want you drivin’ Dottie anywhere anymore.”

He chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush over your naked shoulder and then dance down your arm, “She just wants what she can’t have. She’s jealous a’ you.”

“I know it.”

“Then don’t pay her no mind, girl. I mean it.” A silence drops over the two of you for a few minutes before he says, “I won’t drive her anywhere without tellin’ you. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’m sorry.”

You smile as you rest your head against his, letting your eyes close as sleep starts to pull you in. You feel him grab your fingers, pulling them away from his body as he starts to fumble around, slipping his arms back into his uniform. Once he’s dressed, you fall back into him. He wraps his arm around your neck. You place your hand back on his soft, round stomach. He rolls down the window, allowing the warm breeze to caress your skin. Nights like this are the best. You don’t know how you could be so stupid. You know he loves you.

You’ve always known.

“I’ma get you that little house over there on Pleasant drive, you know it?” he asks, daydreaming again, “We’ll get married -” You scoff, “What?”

“Married?” You ask skeptically, rolling your head on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes. Married.”

“How are you going to be the law in this town if you’re steady breaking it?”

He chuckles, “You don’t listen to the news?”

“No,” You say softly, squeezing him tighter as you let out a breath, “Too depressin’.”

“Well,” He starts, dropping kisses to the top of your head, “Richard and Mildred Loving are fighting hard for people like you and me.” You open your eyes and blink slowly, watching as the wind plays the branches of the trees across the street as he continues, “They’ll overturn those bullshit laws - just you watch. I’ll marry you the very next day, right here in the middle of town.”

“You think?”

“I think, what?”

“They’ll overturn ‘em?”

“They have to. The world’s too big for that small minded, backwoods bullshit now.”

“And then you’ll buy me that house over there on Pleasant Drive?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then get me one of those big old beds, what you call it?”

“A California King.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure will.”

“And then?”

He takes a breath before he sweeps his nose along yours again, brushing the tips together, “And then we’ll be together until we grow old and grey. I’ll probably be four hundred pounds by then, but.”

He chuckles as you pinch him, making him squirm from the sharp pain, “Stop it.” You warn.

“Look at me now! I’m well on my way.”

“I like you just how you are.” You say simply.

“I suppose you do.”

“I do.”

You barely have to push in to grab his lips as the two of you are already so close. You moan softly when they meet. That arm around your neck tightens, keeping you close - oh so close. You don’t tell him right away, but you like those daydreams of his. The house on Pleasant Drive, the big old bed, the wedding in the middle of town. You dream about them every night and wake up with them every morning. You don’t ever tell him though, because you’re the practical one. He’s the dreamer - and you like it that way.

You still don’t even tell him on the day he makes them all come true. How much you like those dreams of his.

#chubby!bucky #bucky barnes #chubby!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #chubby!bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #chubby!bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #chubby!bucky barnes #avintagekiss24

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escapewithbts · 3 years

Text

“Do you know BTS?” - Yoongi

——————————————————

“I have an iced cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso and 2 Splenda!” You called out, placing the drink on the counter.

It was a busy morning at the local coffee shop you worked at downtown, all the business men and women looking to get their usual morning caffeine fix. You were short staffed, of course, so you were doing way more than you were supposed to; making drinks, taking orders, bringing food to the people who sat at the tables. You were running around frantically trying to keep up, and apparently not succeeding.

“Umm excuse me?” An annoyed looking woman in a black pantsuit approached the pick up counter, drumming her long manicured nails on it’s marble surface, “this was supposed to be a hot cappuccino, NOT iced.”

You furrowed your brows and looked at the label stuck to the cup which clearly read “iced”. In fact, you were the one who took her order, and specifically remember the word iced coming out of her mouth.

But you knew better than to argue, so instead you grabbed the cup and said,

“I’m sorry, m’am, let me remake it hot for you.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“How long will it take?? I really don’t have time to wait around again.”

You shook your head and tried your best to smile, not very well succeeding.

“Just a couple minutes, I’m making it now.”

She let out a loud sigh and crossed her arms. You could feel her staring daggers into your back as you started the espresso machine.

“Hey, (y/n),” your coworker came up behind you with a tray of iced coffees in her hand, “these are for table 4, they’ve been waiting for a while, do you think you could run them over? I have got to get this man’s quiche in the oven.”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off the drink you were remaking in front of you.

“Yeah, sure, but can you please finish this woman’s cap first? She’ll probably prefer you making it over me anyway.”

She nodded as she handed you the tray of drinks and took over your spot at the coffee machines. Then you walked out from behind the counter and onto the floor, navigating through the people waiting to order and the people waiting for their drinks.

Suddenly, without warning, someone bumped into you from behind. Hard. You let out a yelp and stumbled forward, the coffees slipping off the tray and splashing all over a man who had been standing in front of you. He jumped a little, startled from the sudden wet and cold sensation on his back. His black t shirt was soaked, clinging to the skin underneath. His arms raised from his sides as he turned around slowly. A few people were staring, but most were too preoccupied with themselves to notice what happened.

Upon the man turning around, you noticed he had wireless headphones in, a black baseball cap on his head, and a face mask over his nose and mouth. You could barely see his eyes as he raised his head up to look at you and removed one of the earbuds from his ear.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry sir let me-“ you started.

“What the fuck?” He interrupted, glaring at you from under the rim of his cap, “Are you serious?”

He fiddled with his shirt, pulling it around forward to see the damage behind and muttered something to himself in what sounded like another language. Korean maybe?

Your face turned beet red and you frantically tried to figure out what to do.

“I-I’m so sorry, can I get you some napkins, um or-or a cloth, um maybe a towel I-“

“No. Just stop.” He interrupted again.

You shut your mouth, feeling horrible at your inability to rectifying the situation.

“Fuck. You should look where you’re going,” he snapped, his voice thick with a foreign accent.

He didn’t have to be so rude.

“I said I was sorry, okay?? It was an accident.”

The man rolled his dark brown eyes and mumbled a quick “whatever” before turning and storming out of the shop.

You sighed and bent down to pick up the now empty glasses off the floor before retreating to the back to get towels to wipe up the mess.

This was so not your day.

Finally, after 10 more long hours, 6pm came. Thank god it was closing time. You were exhausted and couldn’t wait to close up shop and go home. You didn’t mind volunteering to work a double shift as you appreciated the pay, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t take a lot out of you.

The setting sun shone through the large glass windows at the front of the shop creating a beautiful orange glow. You loved this time of day. You had to finish closing alone but you really didn’t mind. It felt calming and quiet and warm, making the cleaning process almost therapeutic.

As you were setting the chairs up on top of the tables to start sweeping, you heard the bell on the front door jingle, signaling it had been opened. You had turned the chalkboard sign outside to read ‘CLOSED’ right at 6, so you were confused as to who it could be.

“Sorry, we are actually closed now,” you said, looking up.

Right away you recognized the same guy you had spilled the iced coffees on earlier during rush hour. He wore the same black hat, same pants and shoes, but this time he bore no face mask and had changed into a white t shirt. Your cheeks immediately turned warm. What did he want? You mentally cursed yourself for not locking the door.

“I know,” he said quietly, walking towards you, “I wanted to be back earlier...”

You swallowed as he got closer, your heart pounding in your ears.

You tried to sound confident but was only able to squeak out,

“What do you want?”

He stopped a few feet from you and removed his hat to reveal soft looking jet black hair, his bangs falling over his forehead and almost covering his eyes. He ran a hand through it and you couldn’t help but notice his soft facial features and pale white skin. Silver hoop earrings hung from both his ears, a collection of thin bracelets wrapped around his thin wrists. He bit his lip hesitantly and looked at the ground before speaking.

“I came back... here to say I am sorry.” He spoke slowly, like he didn’t know English very well. Or rather he did, but was not confident in his abilities.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh.”

He scratched the back of his head.

“I, um, was not nice. I am a little stressed this morning, but I should not have been rude to you,” he still didn’t look at you, his shyness evident, “I know it was accident, so I am sorry for how angry I was.”

He took a deep breath, almost like he was relieved to get that off his chest.

“It’s okay,” you responded with a small smile, beginning to take notice of how handsome he was, especially in this light, but also how adorable his apology was, “I, too, was having a stressful morning. I shouldn’t have snapped back at you.”

He nodded, gazing off to the side.

“No, it is okay. It was all me.”

He smiled slightly and finally looked at you. You felt butterflies in your stomach at the eye contact. You were suddenly flustered.

“Do you, um, want something now maybe? Since you didn’t get anything this morning? It’s on me.”

You walked back behind the counter, tying your apron in the process.

“Oh no, no you don’t have to do that,” he protested, “I am fine.”

“Please,” you insisted, “it’s the least I can do. What do you like?”

He thought for a moment.

“Umm, can you make a iced americano?”

You nodded confidently.

“Of course. One iced americano coming right up.”

You felt him watching you as you mixed the espresso shots with cold water before pouring in ice to fill the cup to the brim. You set it on the counter in front of him.

“Here you go.”

He nodded and took the drink in his hand.

“Thank you,” he paused, “Um, also... My name is Yoongi.”

You smiled.

“I’m (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Yoongi.”

“You too.”

He took a small sip of the coffee and his eyes got wide.

“Wow. This is the best iced americano I have had ever. Number one iced americano.”

You blushed and looked down.

“Well thank you... but shouldn’t I be the one complimenting you? After all, I’m the one who spilled coffee all over you this morning.”

He let out a chuckle, his mouth wider this time revealing perfect teeth and a gummy smile. He really was adorable.

“Maybe.”

There was a pause as you two just stood there awkwardly.

“Do you...” Yoongi finally spoke, fiddling with the straw in his drink, “Do you know BTS?”

You cocked your head and thought for a moment, wondering why the sudden random question.

“Yes, I think I have heard of them. They are a K-pop boyband, right?”

He nodded gently.

“Yes.”

“I thought so. I don’t know much about them, and I haven’t heard any of their music, but I know so many people adore them. Why do you ask?”

He hesitated, shuffling a little and rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

“That’s me,” he stated, “I am BTS. My group name is Suga.”

Your eyes got wide. Whoa. A famous artist had come to your coffee shop! You suddenly wished you knew more about them.

“Oh wow! That’s really cool! I’m sorry I don’t know you or your music... But, um, congratulations on all your successes here in the US and around the world. I know you guys are quite well known for breaking that barrier.”

Yoongi chuckled and looked down timidly. Now aware of how well-known and successful he was, his obvious bashfulness really surprised you.

“Thank you. It is an honor, really.”

You smiled at him admiring his humbleness.

“I am here in New York for two more weeks,” he continued, “Ummm maybe... I could come back here and we could drink coffee together?”

He looked up at you again, a rosy colored blush forming across his cheeks.

Your heart sped up. Was he asking you on a date? You suddenly felt giddy and flustered.

“Oh, um, yes. Sure, yes. I would really like that.”

“But maybe next time,” he said with a grin, “I drink the coffee, not wear it. Okay?”

Your face turned red of embarrassment again and you covered it with your hand.

“Well I can’t make any promises,” you laughed, “but I will try my best.”

Masterlist

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

You were the first

As I mentioned in this ask, I have polished up the fic I wrote live on discord. It's left at a bit of a cliff-hanger so I'll try not to leave it too long to write the second chapter, but I make no promises!

Anyway, have some Logan with his first boy crush.

CW: discovering sexuality and sexuality crisis

Rating: G

If you feel I need to add any content warnings or change the rating, please drop me a message!

Logan and Noelle are original characters from the sweater weather universe created by the wonderful @lumosinlove. All other characters in this fic are mine.

Logan tugged at his t-shirt, an expensive white thing that was more fitted than he was used to, scrutinizing his image in the mirror. He rose up onto the tips of his toes, giving a small sigh as he settled back down. He’d always been confident in his appearance, especially under the Nice sun, his hair a little lighter and his skin bronzing even more than usual, but he wished he was taller.

“Lo! Let’s go! I’m ready,” his sister called, appearing in the doorway to his bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay?”

Logan dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand, figuring his ensemble of the white t-shirt and khaki shorts would have to do. “Does this look too prep school?” he asked, pulling on a pair of battered vans that he hoped would soften the outfit before joining Noelle in the hallway.

“Since when did you care about your appearance?” Noelle teased, pulling his cap over his eyes as he fell into step beside her.

I don’t,” Logan grumbled, adjusting the brim, shoving Noelle away from him. He twisted away from her retaliating shove with a chuckle, raising his hands in a truce at the top of the stairs before bounding down them. “Maman! Noelle and I are going out now!”

“Do you have sunscreen? And water?”

“Yes, Maman!” He and Noelle rolled their eyes at each other, waiting around only long enough to hear the affirmative reply from their mother telling them to be safe and back in time for dinner.

“So, what’s going on with you and this Hugo boy then?” Noelle asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

Logan glanced back towards the house anxiously, even though he knew nobody would have heard. He picked up his skateboard, dusting an imaginary piece of dirt from it before tucking it under his arm. “Nothing is going on, he asked me out and I said I wasn’t gay, simple,” Logan mumbled. “Why don’t you concentrate on your own love life?”

“Alright, there’s no need to get defensive,” Noelle clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She strapped her board to her backpack, leaving her hands free to tap against her phone screen. “And my love life is very successful, thank you,” she added with a smirk that was begging for Logan to ask more.

“Oh yeah?” Logan latched onto the opportunity, glad to have the attention off of himself. “Is that who you’ve been texting all the time?” he chuckled, plucking Noelle’s phone from her hand. “What’s his name then?”

Noelle squealed, lunging for her phone, but Logan was too quick, looking at the message before she could grab it. “Oh,” Logan breathed, stumbling over his feet as he shoved the phone back at his sister. “Fuck, Noelle. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t -”

“Logan, it’s fine.” Noelle stopped, grabbing Logan by the shoulder so he halted as well. “Well, it’s not. You’re a little shit, but that’s what little brothers are for, right? Besides, you are so predictable. I was baiting you.”

Logan frowned, his features contorting into a picture of confusion. “What?”

“You’re such a dumbass,” Noelle laughed, shaking her head. “I wanted you to know.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Logan muttered. “So, Natacha, huh? That’s the blonde girl, right?”

Noelle looked at Logan pointedly, “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Uhh…Congratulations?” Logan shrugged.

Noelle sighed and started to walk again. “Yeah, she’s the blonde one.”

Logan jogged a few paces to catch up with her. He chewed at his lip, glancing over at his sister every few steps. She seemed so confident, like she knew exactly what she wanted. He tried to reassure himself that he was only 14, he wasn’t supposed to know what he wanted yet. That’s what all the websites said. Finally, he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, “Do maman et papa know?”

“Not yet,” Noelle hummed, “I’m not worried, I just -”

“Logan! Noelle!” their friend, Ibrahim, yelled as they entered the skate park. Logan looked towards Noelle, mouthing that they would finish the conversation later. “We were just talking about you.”

Noelle replied, but Logan didn’t hear what she said, his attention pulled by the tall boy standing just to the left of Ibrahim. He had light blonde hair that flopped over his eyes and he was shifting nervously between his feet. Hugo.

“Hello! Earth to Logan,” Noelle clapped her hands in front of his face. “I said we’re going to head over there and practice on the rails. Are you coming?”

Logan looked back to Hugo, wincing internally at the obviousness of the action. “No, I’m going to stay,” he pointed behind him to the small group of teens “here.”

Noelle looked at him, her lips making a funny manoeuvre that Logan had come to learn meant she was suppressing a laugh. “Okay.”

Then Noelle was gone, and Logan didn't know what to do with himself. These were the same friends he'd been hanging out with every summer for nearly a decade, but suddenly he seemed to have forgotten how to interact with them. Or rather, with him, with Hugo. He couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so awkward. Sure, the other boy had asked him out, but Logan was certain that wasn’t the problem. He didn't want to be that person, but he had other male friends who were attracted to guys and it had never been an issue before. Even when one of those friends had admitted to a crush on him, Logan had just told them politely he wasn't interested in them like that, and they'd moved on with their friendship. So why did his stomach feel like it was trying to turn itself inside out, right now? And why did he feel like he wouldn't be able to string an intelligible sentence together?

"Logan! What are you doing?" Ibrahim shouted, pulling Logan from his spiralling panic. He looked up to see the group had moved. "Hugo has finally got that combo he was working on down, and for some reason he can't wait to show you." Logan thought he heard something teasing in his friend's tone, but he squashed the thought. He looked over, meeting Hugo's shy smile and decided he could figure out whatever was going on in his head later. His friend wanted to show him a trick, and Logan wasn't a jerk, so he was going to go and watch.

Logan dug his fingers into the edge of his board, clutching it close to him as he approached his friends, the walk to the edge of the bowl they had gathered on seeming to take an age with all their eyes on him. "You've stopped falling on your ass then?" he grinned at Hugo, by way of greeting, proud that the words came out with the same smooth tone that he usually managed.

"Yeah," Hugo blushed. "I told you, practice makes perfect."

"I stand corrected," Logan huffed out a laugh. A red haired girl that Logan didn't know that well, mumbled something that he didn't quite catch, but carried a tone that he didn’t like. He spun around to ask her to repeat herself when she smiled and mounted her board, dropping over the edge of the bowl. Logan turned back to Hugo, but the boy was now looking towards the bowl, sending a glare after Lydia.

"Okay, let's not build this up too much,” Ibrahim threw his arm around Logan. “We’re going to be expecting some Tony Hawk skills at this point." Logan sent him a grateful smile, receiving a small squeeze in return.

"Lyds, we get it. You are fantastic! Now get out the bowl. I already shot - gunned," Hugo said, laughing as Lydia flipped him off after she had exited the bowl on the opposite side."

“Alright then, Hewie. The floor is yours. Let us see your mating dance," Lydia swept her arms in front of her in a grand gesture.

“Sorry about her,” Hugo cleared his throat, his face getting impossibly redder and scratching at the back of his neck. “I think she thinks she’s funny.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Logan hoped the smile he offered was comforting, even if it did feel somewhat tight. He could feel the stares of the others boring into his back as he inclined his head towards the bowl. "What are you waiting for? Show me what you can do.”

Hugo opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to decide better of it, shrugging his shoulders. A cocky smirk spread across his face before he gave a determined nod and dropped into the bowl. It was easy watching Hugo skate. Years of practise had led to a relaxed form, commanding the board with a simple confidence. Any shyness he'd been exhibiting a few moments ago had melted away. Logan wasn't the best skater, rarely picking his board up outside of the summers, so he was easily impressed by the way other people were able to keep their feet stuck to the deck like glue. However, there was something about the way Hugo's body moved, leaning into each turn and shifting his weight with such subtly, that felt different. Logan found himself holding his breath, knowing that the trick Hugo could never land was approaching. He didn't want to think about why the determined crease of Hugo's brow made the same odd feeling in his stomach from earlier reappear.

Hugo carved his way up the side of the bowl, until only one wheel ground against the coping. Logan leaned forward into the movement, expecting to hear the crash of the board against concrete, but it never came. Hugo glided seamlessly back down to the bottom of the bowl with a proud fist pump. A loud cheer escaped Logan's mouth before he even really registered it, the rest of his friends joining in to create a barrage of noise. Logan felt lighter than he had in weeks. Hugo showed off a few more tricks, before exiting the bowl. His skin had a pink flush to it, and his breath was coming in heavy pants, the heat of the afternoon sun making the exercise that bit more intense.

"Here, drink," Logan ordered, thrusting a bottle of water in Hugo’s direction. He took the bottle, but instead of drinking it like Logan expected, he unscrewed the lid, pouring the contents over his head, sweeping his bangs up off his face. Logan thought he had gotten away with the choked noise pulled from his throat, but Lydia chuckled from behind him. Logan turned on his heel, sending her a steely glare, "Is there a problem?"

Lydia raised an eyebrow, cocking her head as if inspecting something, "I'm just wondering how long it's going to take you to get your act together, Tremblay."

Logan tensed, glancing behind him quickly. He let out a long breath, relieved to see Hugo's attention had been monopolised by Ibrahim and another of their friends congratulating him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he scoffed. "We barely even know each other."

"You may not know me, but Hugo and I have been friends since we were babies, so unfortunately I am aware of the exact shade of green your eyes happen to be," Lydia retorted, shrugging off the plaid shirt she had on over her vest top. Her expression had softened when she looked at Logan again, "Look, maybe I've made a big mistake here and you're really not interested in him like that, but if that's the case you really need to stop leading him on."

"I'm not-" Logan started to protest, a part of him wondering exactly what Hugo had told Lydia about him. "-this is none of your business.” He chewed at his lip, pulling his cap from his head. It felt like the temperature had risen dramatically in the last thirty seconds, Logan very aware of the beads of sweat forming under his t-shirt. He shoved his cap back on, tugging at the curls at the nape of neck. "I'm going to find my sister," he said, grinding the words through his teeth and turning on his heel. Somewhere behind him, he heard Hugo call his name, but he pretended he hadn't heard, continuing his quick strides away. This was all too confusing and he just wanted to see Noelle.

Logan crossed the park, finding Noelle sitting on a set of stairs, her head resting on Natacha’s shoulder, the two of them watching some of their friends work the rails. She seemed content, so Logan hesitated a few feet away, guilt creeping in at the prospect of disturbing her. Eventually, his need for comfort won out. "Nolly?”

Logan rarely used the nickname in public these days, receiving a swift smack to the back of his head whenever he did. Noelle whipped her head up, her glare melding quickly into a look of concern.

"Nolly, huh? Adorable," Natacha teased, nudging Noelle gently.

"Don't even think about it," Noelle deadpanned, her eyes remained locked with Logan's. "Hey Lo, what's up?" She patted the concrete next to her, and Logan took a seat, resting his chin in his hands against his knees. He looked between Noelle and Natacha, chewing at his lip. Natacha had always seemed nice, but he wasn't sure he wanted to bare his soul to her quite yet.

"Do you want me to go? I can always go and show the boys how it’s done, it's not a problem." Natacha smiled softly and instantly, Logan decided he liked her. Besides, he wasn’t sure he had anything to say yet, so it was pointless sending her away.

"No, it’s okay," Logan sighed. "I just needed a break." Noelle looked at him pointedly, and Logan could tell she didn’t believe him. For now, she refrained from an interrogation. Logan had a funny feeling that it was postponed rather than cancelled.

It took a while for the conversation to fall back into a natural rhythm, however once the initial awkwardness faded it flowed well, Natacha dropping into the natural gaps of Noelle and Logan’s conversation like she’d always been there. It was easy over here, away from his friends, and Logan let his mind wander to thoughts of Hugo, trying to reconcile these new feelings with the information he currently had about himself.

Natacha laughed, loud and smooth, pulling Logan back into the conversation. "No, my ex, he -" Logan didn't hear the next few sentences, fixating on the pronoun until he couldn't hold in the question any more.

"Did you say he?"

Natacha furrowed her brow, whilst Noelle's expression turned smug and knowing. Logan had questions about that too, but it'd have to wait. Eventually, Natacha gave a slow nod. "Yes, he...Jacob, my ex-boyfriend."

Logan waved his hand between Noelle and Natacha, "- and now you have a girlfriend."

Something changed in Natacha's expression, but Logan couldn't place it. "Well," she chuckled, "we haven't called it anything yet, but I wouldn't object."

Logan blinked. "You can do that?"

Natacha shrugged, looking between Logan and Noelle with a careful curiosity.

"No." Logan cut her off before she could answer. "I know you can change your mind or whatever. Or not know. But can I just...I guess, I had that crush on Alicia back in grade 7, but now I think - yeah, Hugo makes me feel kind of the same way, so am I gay now or what?" He felt Noelle squeeze his knee as he reached to scratch at the back of his neck. She always told him he'd be awful at poker because he had too many tells.

Natacha looked between him and Noelle again. It was getting a bit annoying, but he figured he had just dumped a whole lot of thoughts on somebody he had only spoken to a handful of times. The silence was beginning to feel heavy when she eventually spoke, "I can't really tell you that. You could be gay, you could be bisexual, I'm fairly sure there's other things too. Just try not to freak out about it, yeah?"

Bisexual. Now that he thought about it, Logan remembered hearing that word before. He'd never really considered what it meant though, it hadn’t been necessary. The only person he'd ever had a crush on before was Alicia. Maybe bisexual fit, but he'd never liked another girl like that either so maybe Alicia was just a fluke and he was just gay. He lay back, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the sun and groaned. "Try not to freak out. How am I not supposed to freak out?! I want to kiss a boy."

"Oh, you want to kiss him do you? You're a baby, you're not allowed to kiss anybody." Noelle teased, poking at his side. Logan threw a furious look at her. Could she not see he was having a crisis here and she was laughing. "Sorry," Noelle apologised, her voice more sincere. "I know it's a lot to think about. It's just difficult not to tease my little brother about his crush."

Logan had to admit something was comforting in the idea that even when his world was in chaos, there was always the constant of his sister's teasing. He'd never tell her that though. "I think I'm just going to pretend this isn't happening," he sighed.

Noelle laughed again, more committed this time. "That would be very fitting," she hummed. "You could also, oh, I don't know...talk to him?"

Logan sat up quickly, "And what if he asks if I'm gay!? I literally told him 3 days ago I wasn't interested.” The long sigh that followed felt like it was pulled from him.

"Erm..." Natacha muttered awkwardly. "I'm gonna leave you two to talk. Good luck, Logan," she added, leaning around Noelle to pat at his arm. Ordinarily he would have found the gesture condescending, but it was oddly comforting.

There was a quiet as they watched her walk away. “I like her,” Logan declared.

"Well, she's my girlfriend so you can't have her," Noelle quipped. Logan rolled his eyes; his sister shared their father's sense of humour and frankly, it was awful. "Can I let you into a secret?" she asked, pulling Logan into her side. There wasn’t time to answer before Noelle continued. "It wasn't easy for me either. But I got there and you will too. Just be honest with Hugo, and if he's an ass about it at least you know he's trash now rather than later."

"Thanks, Nolly," Logan said quietly, leaning his head on his sister's shoulder. "I think I'll talk to him. Or maybe I'll just show him my hockey reel, that's impressive." Noelle flicked her fingers against his leg and Logan scowled, rubbing at the spot.

"Try not falling off that board for once, that'll impress him," Noelle teased, inclining her head towards Logan's abandoned board.

"Or maybe, I'll just fall off and then get him to teach me." Logan retorted with a smirk, looking in the direction of the bowl that he had left earlier. He figured he should probably head back over there soon, he’d left before he could even really congratulate Hugo.

Noelle shook her head, laughing "God, you're such a Tremblay at times."

Logan heaved himself up, grabbing his board as he did. "Hey, you never did tell me what you decided on. You know...with your sexuality," his said, feeling his face heat up a little. Somewhere in the back of his brain, something told him he wasn't supposed to ask that, but the question had left his mouth before he'd really thought about it. "If you don't mind telling me."

Noelle looked up at him with a casual shrug, "I refuse to be defined by labels, I will date who I date and if people don't like it, well fuck them."

"Wow, okay," Logan raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of anger in such a small person. Go skate it off."

"Alright, Mr 5 foot," Noelle scoffed, her expression softening before she continued. "I am

going to see if I can prise my board from Tasha's grip, but let me know if you want to go, yeah?"

"I just haven't hit my growth spurt yet," Logan reeled off his usual rebuttal to his sister's jibes about his height, but his mind was more focused on the latter words. "I'll be fine, promise," he smiled, even if he wasn't so convinced of the statement himself. He held Noelle's gaze for a beat longer, turning on his heel to head back to his friends

"Logan!" Hugo called loudly as he approached, the blond boy's eyes widening slightly when the loud sound left his mouth. "You're back," he added, at a more reasonable volume.

Logan smiled as he took a seat next to Hugo, "Yeah, sorry about that. Just had to sort some stuff.”

"No problem, just glad to have you back.”

Ibrahim faked a gag, and Logan shot him a glare. His friend mouthed something at him, but Logan couldn’t make out the words against the exaggerated movements of his lips. He turned his attention back to Hugo as he began to speak again. Ibrahim was probably only trying to chirp him anyway. "Hey, how's your Ollie going?"

Logan took a deep breath, trying not to think about his next words too much, "Yeah, I'm still practicing, actually. I was wondering if you could help me again? Somewhere," Logan looked around, "not here. I don't want to keep falling on my ass in front of everybody."

Logan swore he heard a low wolf whistle from one of the group, but when he glanced at them, everybody seemed to be engulfed in their own conversations. Ibrahim and Lydia's heads were close together, whispering conspiratorially in a way that was making Logan nervous.

"Yeah, I can help you," Hugo said, a goofy grin set on his face. "When do you want to do it?"

"Now?" Logan suggested, trying not to get distracted by the increasingly animated conversation beside him. Hugo must have noticed too, but he seemed unfazed.

"Oh? Now. Okay, Sure," Hugo nodded vigorously, brushing his hands through his hair. "We can do it now. I'm totally ready."

"Cool," Logan hummed, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole situation despite the uptick in his heart rate.

"Yeah, cool.”

Logan didn’t want to appear too eager so he waited for Hugo to stand first. Only it appeared Hugo had a similar idea bringing them to an impasse. Logan cringed internally, glad he currently had his back to Ibrahim because he could just imagine the mocking expression. He bolstered himself, letting his breath whistle through his teeth and laughed, hoping the noise sounded lighter than it did in his head. "Come on then," Logan said, rolling to his feet, offering his hand out. Hugo stared at it for so long, Logan was beginning to think perhaps he'd done something wrong. Then, Hugo slapped his own hand clumsily into it, pulling himself upright. Logan curled his fingers around the larger hand, holding onto it a second longer than necessary to help Hugo up. It was warm, slightly sweaty even, but Logan found himself wanting to test whether Hugo would keep their hands intertwined if he didn't let go. Still, a part of him was very aware of their current company, so Logan reluctantly pulled away.

As they walked away from the group, Logan braved a look behind him. Most of his friends quickly made to re-start their conversations, embarrassed to have been caught staring. However, the two he’d most suspected to lock eyes with had their heads down, fingers working furiously against their phone screens. Seconds later, Logan felt his phone vibrate. And then again, and again, and again.

Logan sighed, sending Hugo an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, let me just get this." He tugged his phone from his pocket, huffing when he saw the notification. Ibz created group 'Don't fuck this up Logan. He opened the chat, intending to mute it immediately, but curiosity got the better of him and he read through the messages quickly. Logan didn't have the third participant in his contacts so his phone just displayed the number, but if he wasn't already aware that it would be Lydia, the blunt tone of her messages would have given her away.

Ibz: His favourite colour is red!

Lydia: Why would that be helpful?

Lydia: Also, I think it might be green now ;)

Ibz: Lydia! That is not helpful! Logan, you can talk to him about hockey. He's been studying.

Lydia: That's true! He's kind of obsessed with dinosaurs too so try to work that into the conversation.

Logan worried at his lower lip, noticing that Hugo hadn't been inundated with messages. He could only surmise that Lydia and Ibz thought Logan was the only one of the pair that needed some extra help. He grumbled under his breath, typing out a reply with punishing taps against his screen.

Logan: Guys! Stop! I can handle this. Can you just stop meddling?

Lydia: If you say so. I am going to kick your ass if you hurt him though.

Ibz: Hey! That's harsh. Logan would never intentionally hurt Hugo.

Logan: Thanks Ibz! For the record, I'm muting this conversation now.

Logan smiled at how quickly Ibrahim had come to his defence, making a mental note to thank him in person later on. After following through with silencing his phone, he shoved the device back in his pocket, looking over at Hugo. He was sitting on his board, chin tucked against the palm on his hands, rocking slowly from side to side. He seemed content, but Logan still felt a little guilty about making him wait. "Sorry," Logan grimaced, "I'm all yours now. How about I show you what I'm doing, and you can correct me?"

#logan tremblay #noelle tremblay #cw: discovering sexuality #cw: sexuality crisis #sweater weather #coast to coast #rating: g

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aotimagines · 3 years

Text

Aperture [1]

Hey. Remember when this blog hit 5,000 followers and I mentioned I was going to be writing something self-indulgent? The moment has finally arrived, lol. The idea spiraled way out of control before I could stop myself so here we are. This is probably not what the anon meant when they sent this in, but I couldn’t stop myself from plotting this story out. It’ll probably have around 8-10 chapters and I want to be realistic and say I’ll be able to update frequently, but there are no promises. My goal is for a new chapter every two weeks, but it’ll probably be closer to once a month. It will contain NSFW at some point, so minors do not interact. To the anon who sent this request in almost a year ago, I am so sorry this has taken me this long to write. I apologize and hope that this suffices. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

“Could you lift your head and look towards the camera, please?”

Your breath was nearly whisked away from your lungs at the sight of your model’s eyes flickering towards you, the intensity swirling behind his irises rooting you to your spot. They reflected the ocean itself—deep, vibrant, and tumultuous just like rolling waves and you felt yourself drowning at sea. You could barely tear your eyes away from his ethereal beauty; from the sharp angle of his jaw, to his sinewy, sun-kissed skin. Each and every ripple of muscle resembled someone akin to a Greek statue over real life and the longer you looked at your model, the more difficult it became to stop your eyes from gazed lower…

Immediately, you brought your camera back up to your eye to conceal your reverie and took another photo, peeling the camera back to examine the frame you had just taken with more intense than you should have. “Great!” Your voice came out rushed and quick—high and pitchy. You wanted to die right then and there on the spot, but you needed to act more professional even if you couldn’t resist the temptation to ogle your client’s perfectly sculpted, perfectly nude body.

It was wrong. It was beyond heinous but, the instant Eren Jaeger walked out to your photoshoot and shed his robe, his stunning looks had been on your mind. As a professional photographer, you had seen your fair share of models, both nude and not, so why were you acting so ridiculous? There was something undeniably electric about Eren and the way he was able to express so much emotion through his eyes alone. After having worked with him for only an hour, you could definitely see why he was scouted to be a model. There was an air of shyness that radiated off him despite the wave of confidence that brimmed so brightly from within. It was cute, which felt foreign and almost like an insult when thinking about the man standing before you.

Still, you needed to maintain your composure and do your job. You could allow yourself to be dazzled by your model for a moment, but now you needed to get back to work. Standing, you exchanged a friendly smile with Eren and motioned to his hands, pointing out, “Do you mind if we get some close-up shots of the watch? I know the campaign said that they wanted a full body shot, but I’d like to give some other options…”

“Sure,” he agreed, his electric gaze never leaving your face even as he held out his wrist and loosened the tension. Immediately, you snapped into your role as the photographer and began taking photos, unaware that you inching several steps closer.

Captivated with the elegance of his long, deft fingers, you became enraptured in your own little world and mindless gave instruction and praise, your prior embarrassment all but gotten. You were unaware of the way Eren’s eyes were glued to your every expression; the way your tongue would push through your lips as you found an angle or shape you liked. As exhilarated as you were to photograph him, Eren was, in kind, just as thrilled to way the way you worked. It was difficult tot keep cool and focus on his job with the way you moved around him, the sheer delight across your face almost tangible. He had been subjected to many photographers, some good and bad, but never…

“Okay!” Your voice dragged him from his thoughts, your lips curved into a soft, gentle smile. “I think we got it? Good work, Eren. You were great.”

“Ah—thanks,” he replied, the fabric of his robe hitting his shoulders before he realized it. One of the assistants must have gotten it for him and it took him all but five seconds to realize that he was still standing before you, naked. His cheeks heated up, a tennis ball lodged in the back of his throat, but he managed to force out, “You were a good photographer. It was, uh…easy to follow your instruction.”

You were positively beaming by the time he glanced at your face, eyes wide and sparkling. “Thank-you! That means a lot, especially since I’m kind of new to working on a professional set and everything.”

“Seriously!” Eren couldn’t believe that he was still continuing the conversation—continuing to praise you, a complete and utter stranger—but here he was. Eren was not the type of person to be physically attracted to anyone right off the bat, but there was something so…mesmerizing about you that he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. “It was a nice shoot. I didn’t even realize we were here for a couple hours.”

“Me either,” came your confession, camera clutched between your hands. “You take direction really well. Oh!” As if an idea just came to your head, you moved to the monitors behind the lights and popped out your SD card, gently sliding the chip inside the reader. Angling your chin, you glanced up at his features, your eyes shining with complete and utter excitement. “Want to see some of the shots? I usually offer to let the models see so they can view the before and after.”

“Uh…” Eren contemplated it for a moment, his mind very cognizant of the fact that he was still only wearing a robe. You seemed completely oblivious to it, which dashed some of his prior thoughts. A moment passed by until he cracked a smile and moved closer to gaze down at the computer monitor. “Sure. I don’t really get a chance to see what I can improve on, or anything.”

Your fingers clicked open the file folder, pulling up the images you had taken not even ten minutes ago. Scrolling through, your eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other as if making mental notes about which ones you wanted to save for editing, later. “Here—this one is really nice,” you said, double-clicking the image until it was pulled up for Eren to see. Despite his nudity being on full display, Eren couldn’t help but notice how…tasteful it was done. Truly, like mentioned in the job description, his focus was on the multitude of watches adorning his wrist, but there was something else about it that…

It was like you had managed to dig deep inside of him and photograph his soul; his emotions. Everything was displayed in his eyes and it took Eren a second to recognize himself. His silence made you worry, hastily bringing up, “Of course, they will look better with editing in post, but—”

Eren shook his head, cutting off your explanation before you could really begin. “No, it’s—it’s not that! Really, the photos are…” He floundered for the right word to describe what you had created; what you had managed to pull out of him and then captured on film. No other photographer had managed that before, so to see himself like that was a little…

“It’s different,” he concluded, gaze still lingering on the images on the screen. “I’m not used to seeing myself look like that. You’re an amazing photographer and I’m sort of struggling to come up with a better compliment than that.”

Visibly, you relaxed upon hearing his praise, pride swelling inside your chest when you realized that he liked the photos. “It makes it easier when my model is able to pull from within, too,” you countered, finally looking up at him after what felt like an eternity. Eren’s eyes met yours and it was like a magnetic field was drawing you closer to him, but you refrained from your urges and settled for exiting out of the photos. It took everything inside of you to swallow back the attraction and fascination that was bubbling inside of you, which only made you antsy and anxious to begin the editing process.

“Anyways, I should let you get dressed. I’m sure you’re itching to get out of here.”

“Ah, right.” Reluctantly, Eren broke eye contact first and stretched, the fabric of his thin robe inching higher against his toned thighs. You jerked your head away from him to conceal the heat crawling across your cheeks and praised whatever deity above that Eren hadn’t paid any attention to your sudden shy demeanor. He seemed to think to himself for a moment before exhaling deeply and walking off, leaving you to skim through the multitude of images you had taken.

A period of time passed because, the next thing you knew, Eren was back by your side, his silky, chocolate-colored tresses pulled back into a bun that rested at the nape of his neck. Small hairs framed his face, only fanning the fuel to his already handsome, boyish looks. You swallowed thickly and offered a smile, rising from your chair to ask, “You heading out?”

“Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you something, first…” Eyebrow quirked, you watched Eren rock back and forth on his feet, a nervous energy teeming off of him. While the two of you knew nothing about each other outside of first and last names, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was typical behavior. He seemed to self-assured whenever he spoke. Was there something wrong with the photos after all? Before you could ask, Eren’s hand shot out and encircled around your wrist, preventing you from turning away or moving back to your computer screen. “Listen,” he pressed closer, temporarily catching you off guard with how bold he was being, “there’s a party happening later tonight. I really don’t want to go, but my manager said it’d be good for connections and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Why?” The question escaped your mouth before you could process what was happening, confusion written across your features. You didn’t pull away from his touch, however, and repeated after a moment of clarity, “You barely know me, Eren. We’re strangers. Shouldn’t you invite one of your friends?”

Eren fell silent for a moment before an uncharacteristic smirk danced across his lips. There was something fierce about the glimmer in his eyes and his body language exuded an amount of confidence he had only displayed the instant his eyes locked with your camera lens earlier that afternoon. He leaned in closer, studying the way your face heated up, before murmuring in a low tone, “I saw the way you were looking at me, earlier.”

Embarrassed, you averted your eyes to the ground. “I’m—I’m sorry! Really, I sometimes get lost in my work and you are beautiful, so I…got swept away. It was unprofessional and I swear it won’t happen again, if we happen to work together.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Eren chuckled, the sound so dizzying that you felt yourself drawn to it—to him—like a moth circling a flame. This was a dangerous game you two were playing and you weren’t sure what kind of out come Eren was looking for. Rather, he released your hand and stepped back, the intensity gone and replaced with a softer, kinder smile. “I liked your photos,” he simply stated, his hand resting against his hip as he continued to stare at you. “And you liked what you were able to get out of me. I just thought it’d be a good opportunity to each to know one another.”

“Professionally?”

“Both,” he easily quipped with a shrug of his shoulders.

You ran a hand through your hair, teeth catching your inner cheek. “I don’t know.”

“How about this.” Eren reached for the sharp on your desk and ripped the cap off with his teeth, balancing the piece of plastic between his two lips. Before you could protest, he grabbed your hand again and began to write numbers into your palm, a string of digits staring back up at you. “When you decide what you want to do, you can text me. Even if you don’t want to go with me, specifically, it’d be a good idea to make connections. You said yourself that you’re new to the industry.”

You had said that, didn’t you? Eren’s number stared up at you, silently replaying your words from earlier like a broken record until a heavy, shaky sigh pulled from your lips. You didn’t know what his intentions were, but you figured that you could worry about that, later. Even if you couldn’t decipher Eren’s true nature, the prospect of getting your name out to more people in the industry was too tempting to ignore. “But what do I wear?” you asked weakly, watching as Eren’s features lit up like a light.

“It’s cocktail, but whatever you have should be fine. I really don’t care about what other people are wearing, either way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh genuinely at this, pointing out with amusement dripping from your tone, “Aren’t you a fashion model? Shouldn’t you care about stuff like that?”

Eren scoffed, lips twisted into a smile. “Nah. That kind of stuff is stupid.”

“But then why…?” You stopped, shook your head, and moved to the desk where your cellphone rested. Holding it up, you tilted your head to the side. “So, I’ll text you? I’ll need an address, you know.”

Eren’s name was being called from across the building—probably whoever he brought with him, you noted—but his eyes still lingered on you even as he began to step away. “It’s for seven-thirty. See you!”

You watched as he jogged away until he was completely out of sight, your heart hammering against your ribs repeatedly. You weren’t sure what the hell had just transpired, but the area where his fingers brushed your skin tingled pleasantly as an aftershock effect.

You were way, way in over your head.

#eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren scenarios #eren jaeger imagines #eren imagines #snk imagines #aot imagines #mod elle #idk what else to tag this as #i hope you guys enjoy #srry for all the eren content later #but i warned y'all that i was going to be a lil self indulgent and here it is lol

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Intimate - John Wick x Reader (nsfw A-Z headcanons)

Word Count : Way too many. (little under 5K...im so sorry guys you know I have a problem)

Warnings : Smut. Fluffs.

Summary : All about your sex life with John :)

A/N : Requested by a few lovely anons! Did I forget a letter? Let’s hope not. Are these even headcanons cuz they’re so long??? These were tricky, I’m sorry if they kinda suck, it took me a hot minute into last night to complete them. Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.🖤

A : Aftercare. (What he’s like after sex).

John has a heart of gold, despite his enthralling profession. Many think John can be stoic, cold, reserved, but you; you know John. After sex, John makes sure to keep you close, asking over and over to make sure you’re alright. He’d never hurt you, even if during the deed. For a moment, he rests his forehead against yours as you’ve both came together, eyes closed as he catches his breath, cock still buried deep in you. He relishes in the afterglow, your head on his chest as he holds you, bulky arms wrapped around your figure, every now and then he presses a kiss to your hair, sighing deep relief; contentment. Sometimes, you’ll lay there together, skin sticking from the heat, relaxing in the moment. John will pepper kisses over your temples, your cheeks, your hands, your wrists. Being quiet and reserved, it’s his way of letting you know how much he loves you, and how lucky he feels to be able to make love to you. Normally, he prefers being the big spoon after sex. But, he is human. Sometimes, he likes being held by you; finds it really cute when you try to wrap your much smaller limbs to his much larger body. If he’s been away for a while, he loves pillow talk, lost in the company of just him, and the woman he loves.

B : Body Part. (His favourite body part of yours).

John is a simple man. He adores each part of you, to him, you are the embodiment of perfect. If he had to choose, however, he loves your breasts. They provide a safe haven for him to nestle his head in during sex, especially if its missionary. When you’re on top, it turns him on immensely to see them bounce up and down, so full, so plump, swollen from pleasure. John loves hugging you from behind, whether it be in the morning in front of the washroom mirror as you’re just waking up, or as you’re getting dressed on the edge of your bed after some hot and passionate sex. Occasionally, he’ll trail his hands up, palms and fingers working your breasts, fondling, massaging as delicate kisses place themselves on your neck from his sultry lips. Of course, when he’s spoon fucking you, or has you bent over as he slams in from behind, he loves to reach forward and hold your breasts.

C : Cum.

John has a lot of cum, can you even be surprised though? You feel dirty admitting it, but you love his cum. It’s the most intimate form of him, and its reserved only for you. It’s quality seed as well; thick, succulent, creamy, perfectly glossed. It’s not a bad taste at all; a delicacy to your lips if you will. John has almost a primal need for his cum to be inside you when he finishes; he feels it where it belongs. Whether it be brimmed deep inside your cunt, or in your mouth after you’ve gone down on him. He’s never actually admitted it due to his slight shyness, but he loves when you swallow for him. Pulls his heart seams to know you love and trust him enough to do it. Part of the reason you’re on birth control is so he can come inside, you know how much he enjoys it, and how much he appreciates to feel all of you, without the barrier of a condom. The feeling, his orgasm hitting him as with the force of night to day, you tighten around him, feeling him spill inside you; it’s pure nirvana for him. Coming inside you makes him feel closer to you; something he always craves.

D : Dirty Secret.

John is away often, but that doesn’t mean your sex life dies for the time he’s away. John and you always want one another, crave each other. You take pictures for John often, some suggestive; his favourite black, lacy lingerie embellished on your satin skin, allowing little to his imagination, and some full and frontal nudes. You love to hear the way his breath hitches over the phone as you hit send, the way his raspy voice compliments you.

“Beautiful, sweetheart. So beautiful,” his coarse, yet velvety voice whispers, hand pulling out his girthy cock, that has already started to throb for you, from thousands of miles away.

What you don’t know though – John keeps each and every picture of you in an album on his phone, locked away where no one can find it, but him. He only does it because he knows you wont mind, those pictures are all for him, and you best believe he’s going to savour each and every one for as long as he can. They come in handy when he’s away and needs you; he can’t get off to anything else since but the thought of your heavenly body. You assume they just disappear in conversation overtime, so you take more for him, constantly replenishing his feed ;)

E : Experience.

John is experienced, in the sense that he certainly knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t slept with many people, his work made it tough, his attention and focus constantly diverted to it. You’ve been with John for many years now, but he is on the older side still. John has had a few flings over the course of his life, however, they never really meant much. With the very few times he has been with someone, it was merely because he needed someone to give him sweet, sweet relief. But when he met you, it all changed. With you, his experience comes in handy, because he always puts your needs before his. He pays close attention to what you want, always making sure to communicate.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” His hand moves to securely hold yours, letting you know he’s listening. “Harder, baby?”

John can effortlessly bring you to multiple orgasms during a session. His sturdy fingers, his veiny cock, his suave mouth, he knows how to use each tool to the best of it’s ability, for you. Of course, he’s willing to try anything new for you as well. You want to try a new position? He’s on it. Want him to pay attention to a certain part of your body? He’s already there.

F : Favourite Position.

Definitely depends on the mood, but he is simple and doesn’t try to be too adventurous. Normally, John prefers good old missionary. He likes the intimacy, holding onto your hips with your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close. His lips have easy access to litter slow, passionate kisses to your face, your neck, your chest as he pleases. However, John also appreciates a good ol riding as well from his baby, especially after a demanding job. During riding sessions, he indulges in you; being able to sit back and relax, your aching cunt bobbing up and down on him, your walls tightening around him, so perfectly soaked. The way he’s able to buck his hips up into you, to feel you deeper, the way he can hold you to his chest as you ride him, allowing him to speed up when he needs.

The sounds you let out drive him insane. Did I mention, he loves watching himself slip in and out of you, the way your glistening releases coat his thighs, slicking his pulsing cock. Sometimes, he likes taking you from behind, he enjoys the gorgeous view of your peachy ass for him, and the way you whimper when his balls slap into your skin, the sounds so delicious filling his ears. Doggy style is also a close favourite of his, more for days when you both crave a good, rough fuck that’ll clear any trace of stress.

He enjoys a good against the wall fuck as well, in the shower is always nice. There have been a few times, he’s came home, neither of you able to control as he pins you against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist with his cock pounding you into oblivion.

G : Goofy. (Is he serious in the act or goofy?)

John isn’t too too goofy in the moment, but he can be on some days. Although he finds sex to be a very intimate, serious act, he can’t help but giggle at how adorable you can get during foreplay. You make him smile, laugh, feel loved, valued. You make him happy, and that comes out during sex as well. He sees you smile, and he’s gone. It’s his favourite thing in the world. If something happens in the moment, such as your face turning red from a particularly loud and explicit moan, he can’t help but smile, giggling with you.

On days when he’s tired and just needs to feel you, he can be a bit more serious. You don’t mind though; on days such as those, you focus your entire attention on making him feel good anyway, you know he deserves it. In turn, John tries incredibly hard to make you come as many times as possible on those days as well, it gives him relief and makes him feel better to know his lady is being treated well, leaving little room for giggles and laughs in those sessions.

H : Hair.

John used to not care before he met you, but now, he makes sure to keep himself tame and trimmed for you. The mans beard is always on fleek, you best believe the same follows down under. He does keep his hair; he’s never been one for being clean shaven. You love going down on him, tasting him in your mouth. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so he makes sure to keep clean for you. It is a bit bushy, but he’s consistent with grooming.

I : Intimacy.

Sex is John’s way of showing you how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him. John hasn’t been with many women; he’s never really had time for sex before you. But now, now that you’re together, in love, sex is what keeps your love fresh, alive, keeps you close and vulnerable with each other. He takes his time with you, making sure to appreciate each part of you, and the alter that is your body. He’s tender, gentle, he loves to feed your self confidence.

He loves kissing you during the act, lips smothering you as his cock slips in and out leisurely. While he’s thrusting is usually when his lips leak with praise for you, how good you feel, how much he loves you.

“Fuck, Y/N…” your name glides off his tongue, smooth as honey. “You…you feel amazing, sweetheart.” He whimpers, cock grinding your G spot each time he thrusts. “So good, baby.”

Even when he’s pounding into you, thrusts hasty, profound; he’ll still make sure to hold you tight, whether it be your hips or your hand. Anywhere from eye contact, to forehead touching, to the cuddle sessions after - John likes to let you know that he’s there with you in the moment; there for you, as he’ll always be.

Till his last breath.

J : Jack off.

Only when he’s away from you. When you’re together, he doesn’t need anything but you to make him feel good. But his work calls for it, and you know there’s times where you need to be away from him. Of course, he loves to have you on the phone for him as he sits in the Continental hotel room, a completed job behind. His palm sloppily wraps around his base, pumping slow, thumb swirling his tip as precum seeps out to the sound of your voice.

“Are you touching yourself, John?” You purr, your own hand trailing suggestively close to your heating center. A mere moan escapes his lips, the sound of your voice enough to make him feel bliss. Twitching, shuddering, he throbs in his hand, movements picking up as he strokes, base to shaft, to tip, pumping, with images of you clouding his mind.

“I want you to come for me, John. Let it out, baby. Let me hear you.” You encourage, hearing his moans, gasps and grunts over the much too distant phone line.

K : Kinks.

John is calm and collected, yet still a little shy. You adore that about him, the way his gentle personality shies away from fully letting you know what he wants sometimes. Over the course of your relationship however, you’ve learned some of his preferred kinks, and you love using them on him, on days you lounge together and have time to really get down and dirty.

Due to his profession, John takes control too much in other aspects of his life. In bed, on days where you want to focus on making him feel good, John relishes in being submissive. He loves to let you take control of him, allow you to do what you please with him. It makes him feel vulnerable, helps him feel human to be at your mercy. He loves you, trusts you enough to let you have him this way. He’s into light bondage, he likes having his wrists restrained, although nothing too insane. He is a simple man after all. Marking is a huge turn on for him, he loves leaving hickies on your silky skin, your collarbones, loves having them on him in turn. He loves body worship, appreciating each inch of you as he trails his kisses down your breasts, your chest, your stomach, slowly inching down to the ache between your legs.

Although John isn’t huge on praise kink, you do like the way he blushes ever so slightly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel.

“John…” You moan, fingernails digging into his back. “You’re fucking me so…” Whimpering, you whine softly in his ear. “So good, Jonathan…don’t stop baby, please…” He picks up pace, husky tone letting out small, soft moans as he slips in and out, fueled by your praise.

L : Location.

John and you have a mission; to have sex in each part of your home. Although his favourite is your bed, it’s safe, familiar, allows you both to be free and active as can. A close second is the couch, usually because the couch means you’re on top of him, spread on his thighs as he thrust up into you, hugging your body close. Hot seat position sex is easier on the couch as well. Anywhere in your house is John’s preferred place, in the comfort of where you live in peace together, the gateway to the dream that is your connection. He’s had you in the shower, in all the rooms, even on the hood of his car in your garage.

The kitchen counter has been one of John’s favourites, assuming how often he has you whimpering for him on it. Fucking into you with your body propped on the counter? He’s a sucker for it. Being tall enough to reach your cunt standing, he props your leg against his torso and shoulder, holding it for support as your other wraps around his waist, watching himself glide in and out of you. it’s always rough on the kitchen counter, but you like it that way. He makes breakfast right after, returning the favour for letting him get one in before the start of the day.

M : Motivation. (What gets him going?)

John is always turned on by you, you never have to try to get him to want you. Perhaps that’s just how deep you both are smitten with each other. He loves when you wear lingerie for him, it gets him tenting in his pants, his cock rising to the mere sight of you embroidered in lace for him. Lingerie shopping with John is always tricky due to it, he’ll have his hands roaming each crevice of your body in the dressing room, lips leaving delicate, quiet kisses along the skimpy lace adorned on your breasts. Of course, he’s no help in choosing a piece. Everything is perfect on you through his eyes.

He has a sensitive neck and ears, so he loves when you whisper for him, in your oh so sensual voice, smooth and sugary.

He loves celebrating with you after a successful contract. What better way to wind down than buried deep inside your cunt, warm, wet, as if perfectly moulded for him. Sometimes, that’s what gets him through work. Knowing that soon, he’ll be in your arms, where you’ll make him feel so, so good.

N : No. (What he won’t do)

John would never, ever hurt you, even if you asked. With all the violence, the murder that lies on his fingertips, he feels guilt. He tries not to, but he feels guilt. You love him endlessly, and you know he fears causing you even the smallest amount of pain during sex. If you wince a bit too loud, he’ll immediately pause and ask if you’re okay. Even if its simply the bulk of his sizable cock making you feel pain when he first enters, he gets concerned, always holding off until you’re adjusted to him, nodding when you’re ready for him to move.

You have a fantasy of John face fucking you, his twitching length jammed inside your throat, lapping as much as you can with your cheeks hallowed. You know it would be pure bliss for him, they way you’d choke on his cock for him, allowing him to savour each inch of your wet, warm, tight mouth. John is still a bit scared, however. He almost doesn’t trust himself; he fears he’ll hurt you.

You’ll get there someday, though. As long as you keep proving to him that you trust him.

More than anyone, anything else in the word.

O : Oral.

Oral is one of John’s favourite parts of sex. He loves going down on you, and love’s having you go down on him. John is crazy good at eating you out, he has had tons of practice with you. The way you moan for him, fingers tangling his hair turns him on like crazy, it’s addicting. The mere sound of you, writhing, whimpering as he laps your nectar, tongue expertly flicking your folds, your clit, hands graciously soothing your thighs, your breasts; he thrives off all of it. You love the sound of his mouth eating you out as well, the slicking, the smacking, the wetness of two of his stocky fingers pumping you, the way you know they’re the sounds of him making you feel good. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, alternating between the perfect symphony of fast and slow licks, making sure to dot a few kisses to your center through the process.

Head from John is a dream. A sweet, sweet, beautiful dream; only you have the pleasure to drift in.

P : Pace.

John is a master of pace, another attribute that comes in handy from his work. He knows exactly what pace to use for exactly the type of fuck you’re going for. During proper sex, where you both can take your time, he’ll always start off close and sensual as you get used to each other. His generous length is thick, heavy, and always needs time to get used to as mentioned. Slow at first allows him to focus his attention on kissing you passionately as he glides his dick in and out, feeling each other close. Gradually, he’s unable to hold himself back. Not when your pussy feels so heavenly around him. He’ll get faster and faster, until the bed frame is creaking and the wall behind is being pounded into-much like you. John has the power to shake your entire body with his thrusts, always keeping sure to hold you secure. Often, John leaves you aching for hours later, sometimes into the next day.

Q : Quickie.

A good quickie is always delightful for the both of you. You crave each other so much, that quickies inevitably find their way into your daily lives together as you coexist. In the morning as you’re just waking up? John never says no to a good ol quick morning fuck in your bed, your soft morning voice moans causing his heart to flutter. At breakfast on the kitchen table? John wasn’t able to resist when you wore just his oversized shirt and a pair of panties. Sometimes a good ol quickie before bed helps him sleep better, and you never deny him when he asks for one. John can have trouble sleeping sometimes, so sex before bed helps him relax, wind down, and most of all,

feel good. Something he deserves.

R : Risk.

John is okay with taking risks, if you want to. He’s always looking for new ways to satisfy you in bed. If you want to try something new, he’ll always say yes for you. He trusts you, and you trust him, so experimenting can be nice sometimes. Sometimes, there have been instances where either he, or you don’t end up liking it, and it makes him a little upset. He doesn’t want to let you down.

You try out new positions all the time, the most recent being The Wheelbarrow. He loved it, the way your hands planted on the floor as he raised your hips to his cock, pounding, pelting into you from behind; your legs wrapped around him.

John likes thrill too, sometimes. He fantasizes about public sex, perhaps in the washroom of a restaurant or something, somewhere where the stakes are higher and you could get caught. He’d be extra cautious, of course. He’d never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

S : Stamina.

John can last decently long, long enough to make you cum. If it’s been a few weeks away from each other, and you haven’t been able to have sex in a while, his stamina increases and he can go for more rounds. There have been times where you’ve had to tap out on him as well, but he’s alright with it. He respects you way too much to make you give him sex when you don’t want to. On average, John can go for 2 rounds if you want him to, although most of the time, one is enough. John is the embodiment of quality over quantity; he fucks you so good, so well the first round, that you’re too sore for another, you’ve been completely satisfied.

“You got another one in you for me, princess?” John chuckles, your breathless body under him, coming down from your high with him still nestled between your legs. You look at him in disbelief almost, wincing when he removes his cock out of you, collapsing on the bed beside.

“Another one already?” You breath, running a hand over your sweaty forehead.

He softly smiles, leaning over to kiss your shoulder, his hand moving to lightly rub a few circles to your clit, building your anticipation again. “Give me a few minutes, sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

T : Toys.

He has no problem incorporating toys into the bedroom. Neither of you need them, but they do add some spice to your sex life. John isn’t too much of a tech guy, but he did spend hours on his laptop searching up the best vibrators to try out for you. John gets off seeing you get off, and pleasing you. Sometimes, he’ll use the vibrator on you before sex, allowing you to delve into oblivion. On nights when he’s away, he loves when you send him pictures of you using it on yourself; his cock wheezes to the sight of your dripping cunt at the mercy of a vibrator, knowing it makes you feel no where near as good as he does when he’s home. John is willing to try out more toys, and he’s open to the idea of you buying some for him as well. You mentioned a vibrating cock ring to him; (not that he needs it for the extra support), but more for the pleasure the vibrations could give to your sensitive nub and his balls when he’s fucking you. There’s a lot you want to explore with John, you want to find out what he’s into, what he may be fond of. He’s a tricky man to get a feel of since he’s always so focused on you.

U : Unfair.

“John…John please..” You wail, feeling him sink just his tip into you, before pulling back out, teasing. He smirks slightly, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, teasing to not even give you a proper kiss when all you want is for him to fuck you senseless. His fingers rub small circles to your clit, eliciting deep moans, yet he makes sure to keep them slow, light, enough to let you feel him on you, but not enough to let you feel relief.

You love edging each other, love building up each other’s orgasm to maximum potential. When you’re on top, you’ll halt movement, your hands planted to his chest as his palms hold your hips tight. He’s always panting under you, biting his lip with breathy moans falling as you start to move again.

He’ll tease you when he’s going down on you as well, leaving kisses to the insides of your thighs, close to your heat. You totally get him back, though, the way you wear very revealing shorts around the house the next day, making sure to bend over a little further when you reach down to pick a towel off the floor.

V : Volume. (Is he loud?)

You both can be loud, depending on the type of sex. If it’s just a quickie before bed, you both tend to stay a little quieter, reverting to small whispers of praise, soft, gentle moans into each other’s necks and ears. John’s voice is smooth, buttery, fine as velvet when he’s trying to be quiet, it makes your pussy quite literally tremble knowing you’re the reason those delicious, delightful sounds are leaving his lips.

When you’re having a proper, longer session of sex however, you both tend to get slightly louder than you mean to. You live alone together, in a reserved neighbourhood. John’s grunts and groans can get excessive when you clench around him, your screams of his name flood the bedroom walls when he’s expertly working you. Sometimes, with John, its far too difficult to hold back your cries and sobs, his balls slapping your core to his demanding pace, his breath tantalizing on your skin. Perfectly, he hits your sensitive nerve endings each time, your eyes fill with tears at how well he’s fucking you, loud gasps to each buck of his hips.

W : Wildcard. (Random headcanon).

John has needs – he has to masturbate when he’s away from you, but only to the thought of you, and the nudes you send him. They’re marvellous, but he wants more. John wants to record you having sex at least once for when he’s away. He misses you dearly, although the lonesome comfort of his stocky palm, coated with the blend of shea hand cream he carries with him show no comparison to your soaking cunt. A video of you unravelling for him will definitely elevate his lonely nights spent away from you in the hotel walls. He would never do it without your consent, so he’s made a mental note to ask you next time you get intimate. Phone sex with you is nice, and it gets home going so well. But the thought of the real deal, a video in which your moans can be heard, your beautiful pussy on display for him, would be divine.

X : Xray. (What’s going on in the pants)

John has a very generous load to offer. His cock is quite literally- fucking gorgeous. When you first saw it, your breath hitched. He’s above average, makes you swallow in anticipation when he’s fully erect for you. He has the perfect amount of girth, a few striking veins running down his shaft, and a very slight curve. His tip shows a blushy, rosy shade of dusty pink, and you can’t help but elicit a moan when droplets of his gleaming pre cum glide down the length of his cock, almost as if a delicacy made just for you to devour. John’s cock is the only to ever had made you feel completely full, completely fulfilled. Struck gold? Definitely.

In more ways than just one.

Y : Yearning.

John has a pretty high sex drive. He’ll never deny you, that’s for sure. You almost never deny him either, whether it’s when he’s tossing and turning in the middle of the night and you offer him a quick session to calm his nerves, or whether it’s in the middle of the day, when he craves to feel your body close. John would like to have sex every single day of the week, but he knows that’s not always what you want, and he respects that. You settle for 4-5 times a week, right in the middle so his needs are taken care of. Sometimes, when you’re not in the mood for sex, you’ll give him a blowjob because you want him to feel good.

That’s your man, and you know how to take care of him.

Although he would like to have sex everyday, he doesn’t ever resort to masturbating unless he’s away. If you’re there, he wants it from you, or not at all. He’d rather wait for you than whip one out alone, without the feel of your body to compliment it.

Z : Zzzz. (How quickly he falls asleep after).

John and you both need a good round of cuddling, just holding each other after sex to doze off. A good cuddle session is part of sex for you; it’s part of the aftercare, part of the intimacy. Value is so important in a relationship, and holding each other, even if it’s just him holding onto your hand on his chest as you lie in comfortable silence, coming down from your highs; it all allows you both to feel valued, appreciated. You both share a little bit of pillow talk, and get cleaned up before you can actually fall asleep. John is a well organized, clean man. He helps you wipe down, change, shower, whatever you need to do before you both retire to bed, your skin freshly peppered with the scent of the eucalyptus shower gel you always buy. He can fall asleep pretty quickly after that, nice and relaxed, gratified and content with the love of his life tucked securely in his arms. He loves it when you hold him and use his chest as a pillow, takes him out like a light to know you’re safe there with him. The clothes you ripped off each other before sex are still scattered on the floor.

“John?” You quietly whisper, arms wrapped around his core, his biceps holding you close to his chest. He stirs slightly, half dozed off already.

“Hmm?” He murmurs, ever so slightly, eyes closed with his heartbeat steady against your ear.

Giggling, you softly plant a gentle kiss to his chest, allowing your head back to rest on him. “Goodnight, I love you.” You whisper into the quiet of the night, sure he’d already drifted to dreamland. He doesn’t reply, until a few seconds later, his deep voice drifting,

in and out of consciousness.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Taglist Posted Seperatly (Ask to be added or removed!)

#john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick oneshot #john wick x you #john wick #john wick smut #john wick headcanon #john wick series #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick fluff #john wick fic #john wick ff #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine

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ingravinoveritas · 2 months

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Gorgeous picture of David and his long legs in a Doctor Who parody on the Friday Night Project.

#david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #friday night project #i love the curve of his calves in those heels #and how comfortable he looks in that outfit overall #i really love how you can tell something special comes out of him when he gets to 'dress up' like this #an energy that's not distinctly feminine or masculine but just uniquely David #there's a shyness with so much brimming confidence behind it #he likes to be pretty and we like to see him being pretty #the androgynous beauty of David Tennant #amazing

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justanotherlifeff · 4 years

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Heya! Could I request a Todoroki x reader scenario where the reader catches him jerking off (u just gotta beat the meat from time to time) Thank you lovely human.🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Caught in act

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

"It was fun! I really wanted to buy that dress though... Why does everything have to be so expensive?!" Uraraka whined as the two of you entered the dorms. You only chuckled in answer. "Yeah, we should do it again" you agreed with Uraraka before going back upstairs to your boyfriend, Shouto's room. You went shopping with Uraraka this day and you were eager to show Shouto everything you bought. You have never really knocked on his door to get in ever since you started dating the stoic boy and hence, you just barged into his room. However, the scene infront of you was completely unexpected as Shouto was sitting on the floor with his dick in one hand and a phone in other as he looked at you in shock. Closing the door behind you, a small smile crept on your face while Shouto looked downright embarrassed. "Sho, you could've called me. You know I'll help you out with boners whenever you want." you murmured as you approached him and sat down next to him before giving him a small peck on his lips. "You were out with Uraraka." Shouto muttered, looking away, kinda embarrassed by the fact that he got caught. He didn’t understand exactly why he felt embarassed to be honest. Probably because although the two of you had sex before, it started not too long ago. "I was but you could've called me and I'd come back faster? Anyway, do you want me to help you?" you asked, a tiny blush tinting your face. Your timid expression suddenly brought up Shouto's usual confidence and he answered you by pulling you into a passionate kiss.

His kisses always took your breathe away. Almost like how he was naturally talented at using his quirk, he seemed to be naturally talented at knowing exactly what your body needed, even more than you at times. It would seem like the two of you had sex for years when it was only a month back when the two of you lost your virginity to eachother. "You think I'd not take help from you, love?" Shouto smirked at you, pulling away as he pulled your shorts off to reveal the expensive lacy underwear that he gifted you not too long ago, (thanks to Endeavour's credit card). While your face burned with shyness, Shouto muttered, "I'll have to buy more of these for you. You look good in lacy stuff.". "Don't say embarassing stuff like that!" you protested only to be stopped by another fervent kiss. "Can't a guy compliment his girlfriend?" Shouto muttered as he trailed kisses from your neck. Your top came off as quickly as your shorts and Shouto smiled at the fact that you were wearing the matching bra. "You know, I was fapping to that picture you sent me in this set. And now you're actually under me wearing this. I'm one lucky guy huh..." Shouto smiled at you, making you wonder how he could say all these with a straight face. You supposed it was because he was way too oblivious on how normal people function. You weren’t complaining though since every word he uttered made you wetter. Carefully, Shouto got rid of the undergarments that you were wearing. "Though you look prettier without those..." he muttered before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking onto it.

A sigh of pleasure left your mouth as one of your hands played with Shouto's mismatched hair, scratching his scalp. He seemed to like it since he was melting into your touch. When he felt like he had enough of your tits, he sat up, motioning you to suck his cock. You listened to him without question as you lowered your mouth between his legs and took his length into your mouth. Although you couldn't take his full length into your throat yet, you figured out how to use your tongue perfectly. The slippery muscle licked his sensitive spots with precision, making him hiss in pleasure. His hands clutched your hair as he bucked his hips, fucking your mouth, trying to get as much pleasure as possible, making you choke and gag on his length. Just before he felt like he would cum, he pulled you up from his cock and kissed you passionately yet again, pulling you close, straddling you on him. Without a warning, he thrusted himself into you, filling you to the brim. An yelp at the sudden sensation escaped your mouth into his, which only made him pull you deeper into the kiss as he grabbed your ass to make your hips roll against his, forming a steady pace. You were a moaning mess as soon as his lips left yours. You buried your head into his chest as you helped him with the pace, bucking your hips, making the pace faster than before. At this point, Shouto was biting his lips. The fact that you were riding him looking so lewd was driving him off the edge. You were no different either. As you looked up at Shouto and saw him biting his lips and watching his heterochromatic eyes giving you the most lustful look you’ve ever seen, you were really close to cumming. "Shoutoooo... Please...." you moaned, holding him tightly. It was a miracle that he understood your barely coherent plea as he changed your position as faster than Iida's reciproburst and was on top of you. He pounded into you with immense speed and force making you cum almost immediately. Even after your dam broke, he still continued to pound into you, chasing his own release.

As you held him tightly, his movements started getting disoriented and suddenly, a wave of pleasure rushed over him as he coated your insides with his cum. You were on birthcontrol pills so there wasn’t anything to worry about that. Shouto moved from over you once the initial weakness left him and laid beside you, waiting for the high to pass. You snuggled close to him when he did and a small smile formed on his face. "This... What we have... It's perfect..." he said, looking at you with a soft smile. His expression brought a smile on your face as you replied, "It is, Shouto. Let's make this last, okay?.". Hearing him say "Okay" in return melted your heart. Specially because he kept his promise and never let you go.

#shouto smut #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha shoto todoroki #shouto × reader #mha shouto #shouto fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #todoroki × reader #todoroki shōto #todoroki shoto x reader #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

Cross The Line

A/N: Hiiii!! I know I said I would be posting angst next, but ha! Sike!!! Here’s a SMUT piece for ya! Ha! To the anon who requested this––So sorry that it's been so long sljdflksd writing takes me a while and then you add smut (well, I added it in lmao) into the mix I tend to overthink alksjfld Keep your eyes peeled for some new fics!! I have a new chapter of C’est Toi, Different, and some other ones coming next week!

As always, let me know what you guys thought!! 💫 💗 Thank you to everyone for your immensely kind words!!! My heart is always filled to the brim with kindness by you lot 🥺

REQUEST: Stylist!ReaderxShawn // Friends to Something More

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: SMUT!!! LIKE ALL THE WAY SMUT THIS TIME!! AHH!!!

Word Count: 7.2K

The excitement backstage was nothing like you had felt before. After coming off a successful European leg of tour, with a two month break, everyone was reenergized. Stagehands were high-fiving the merchandise team, the lighting director was laughing with the audio technician, and Andrew was playing tag with the band.

You were leaned up against the back wall with Connor, discretely listening in on Shawn’s fan Q&A before the show.

“What’s your favorite outfit that Y/n’s put together for you?”

At the sound of your name your postured straightened and Connor nudged an elbow into your stomach. You turned your head to the side and whispered a harsh keep your hands to yourself.

“That’s not what you told Shawn the night of the last London show.”

You whipped your head to look at Connor, eyes wide, “You swore to never bring that up again.”

Connor’s smirk only widened as he turned his head back to face Shawn. You followed his gaze and saw that he was looking down and twirling the white rose he held between his fingers, “Um…I liked the VMA outfit she dressed me in––The green suit.”

The crowd aww’d at his shyness while some let out little shrieks of joy as they clutched their friend’s hand. Once Shawn looked up from the rose, cheeks nice and red, his eyes automatically landed on you in the back. He offered you a secret smile as you shot your head down to look at your feet; both knowing exactly how that night ended with his suit on the floor.

“Did you miss her the most when you went on break?”

Connor nudged his elbow into your side again, and before you could silently tell him off again, Shawn’s soothing voice captured your attention.

“I mean yeah, sure––I––“ he was cut off by even more shrill screams of the fans when he admitted to missing you. The fans sounded exactly how you felt on the inside, “––Of course I missed her, she’s one of my best friends,” more shrill screaming, “And like––I––I missed everyone––Connor, Andrew, Cez–––“

“But you missed her the most, right?”

Shawn’s eyes momentarily connected with yours for a minute before moving his soft eyes to meet the fan who cut him off, “I think it’s time for me to get ready for the show.”

With his avoidance of the question, the fans only squealed more––taking it as confirmation that yes, he did miss you the most––and Connor nudged your side once more. You shot him a glare as you pushed yourself off from the wall with your foot.

“Some of us have to actually work, Connor.”

He let out a stifle of a laugh and shot you yet another mischievous glance, “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of work done dressing him down before the show.”

Connor scurried away out the door and down the hall as you stood in the back with your mouth hung open. Sure, you and Shawn had some sort of relationship that challenged the line of friends or more, but he was your boss and you were his employee.

Everyone turned a blind eye whenever Shawn threw an arm around you, pulled you in close to his side, and pressed a prolonged kiss to your cheek. And everyone ignored you when you took extra time buttoning up his shirt. Everyone––the fans, the crew, even Andrew––was conscious about the peculiar dynamic between the two of you, but no one ever said anything because you two knew not to never cross that line.

Shawn took a chance hiring you with only minimal experience on your resumé, fresh out of university with a fashion merchandising degree. It started with shy smiles and Shawn bringing you a cup of tea made to your liking every time he saw you. Then the nervous laughter turned into longing stares as he looked down at you shining his shoes. And finally, after fixing the collar of his shirt, when you let your hands rest on his chest for a few seconds longer than normal, he ducked his head and kissed you.

It was quick. A soft press of his lips against yours that happened so fast you didn’t process what had happened until he was a rambling mess in front of you. He apologized at least a hundred times: I’m so so sorry, Y/n––I don’t know what I was thinking––I just thought that you––And I––I thought there was something between us––I’m so sorry––I crossed a line.

You let him collect his final thoughts as he let out a deep sigh of embarrassment, turning on his heels to dart out of the room and hide until the end of time, but you took hold of his hand before he could take a step away from you. The seconds you held his hand gently in yours felt like hours as you held your breath.

You remembered how thick the air was with tension. All of the secret glances and private touches led up to this moment. With a shaky breath, you let out a whisper that rang through both of your ears, I think I feel something, too.

Not even a second later, Shawn took your face in both of his hands as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was everything a first kiss with someone new was; noses bumping against each other, a few awkward teeth clanks, and accelerated heart rates. But with more time exploring one another, the two of you knew exactly what the other enjoyed between the sheets.

You were walking down the hall, on your way to Shawn’s dressing room, when a strong arm draped around your shoulder. You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, knowing exactly who it was, as they fell into sync with your walking pace.

“What’s the hurry, roadie?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname Shawn bestowed on you when you told him the horror story of telling your parents you would be traveling to work for him. So, like a roadie? Your mother had said with a twinge of disdain in her voice, not fully believing that this was neither a viable source of income nor a stable career.

You brought an arm to wrap around his waist, “Just on my way to dress up a client.”

“Must be a pretty important client if you’re walking that fast.”

“Well,” you peered up at him and saw that he was looking straight forward with a smirk on his face, “Was maybe hoping to just have some time alone together before.”

Your voice was soft, wavering a little like the day you told him you felt something between each other for the first time. Your voice didn’t imply that you wanted to do anything sexual with him, it was said with a more innocent tone, because you really did just want to spend some time alone with him. The easy going and zen aura he manifested definitely had an effect whenever you spent time with him.

You felt at peace when you were in the same room as him. You felt at ease when he sat next to you on the couch. And you felt giddy whenever he slotted his hand between yours and played with your fingers.

You had begun to feel something way more than the excitement of a sexual relationship. But you didn't know how Shawn felt. You two never talked about your feelings for each other. Of course you enjoyed each other’s presence a little too much, cared for each other a little more than how best friend’s cared for each other, and you thought a little more about what his words meant than just a regular friend.

You had crossed the line with your feelings.

“C’mon,” Shawn guided you toward the double doors that led out of the arena and to the parking lot with the tour busses.

Your movements held no objection as you let him direct you, but your voice was different, “But you have to get ready–––”

“I wear the same pair of jeans and white shirt,” Shawn looked down at you with a smile as you felt the heat of the Portland air on your skin, “I’ll be fine.”

“You do not wear the same pair of jeans every night,” you objected, “I make sure they get washed after every performance,” you glared at him as his tour bus came into view, “so if you’re wearing the same pair then we need to have a serious talk.”

Shawn let out a boisterous laugh as he detached his arm from around your shoulder to open the door. You offered him a smile as a thank you and walked up the stairs into the familiar temporary home.

Shawn followed close behind you and swiftly closed the door. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest with the silence. You were always nervous to be alone with him, but with recognizing your newfound feelings for him, all thoughts of composure left your mind and you were left in a puddle of your emotions.

“You know I––I didn’t––” Your back was to him, but you still shut your eyes tight in embarrassment, “––I didn’t mean I wanted anything more when I said I wanted alone time with you.”

“I know,” his voice was deep as you heard it from behind.

“I just––I like spending time with you,” your arms hung stiffly at your sides, hands curling into fists so tight at your confession, that you knew there would be a dozen crescent moon shapes along your palm, “We don’t need to do anything.”

You could feel Shawn’s breath hit the back of your neck as he spoke, “I know.”

“But like––If you want to––We can do stuff because I like that too, but I––I just wanted you to know that I…” your words trailed off as you felt Shawn’s hands ghost over your own, simultaneously easing your nerves and heightening them all at once, “…I like the times when we don't do any of that stuff.”

“I like those times too.”

It was the closest thing to a confession of feelings shared between the two of you.

In a moment of confidence, you spun around to face him, scared to see his facial expression. While Shawn was gifted in the way he expressed words, you knew him well enough to know that his facial expressions held the full truth. So, when you glanced up at him, and he was looking into your eyes with the same amount of desperation and longing you had in yours, you took your confidence up to another level.

You looped your index finger into the gap above one of the buttons on his shirt and pulled him in for an innocent kiss, curling your other hand around his neck.

When you pulled back, he seemed to be in a bit of a dazed and dreamlike state, with his lips pink and slightly parted as his brown eyes stared affectionately into yours. The look in his eyes alerted you to the fact that maybe he wanted this too. Maybe he wanted to tiptoe across the line with you.

“I like being with you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that both of you knew held a deeper meaning. Your fingers continued to play with the curls at the nape of his neck, “You calm me down.”

Another moment of silence passed and you felt the nerves bubble up in your stomach. But you knew that Shawn felt the same way, you could tell by looking into his eyes as you saw the mechanics whirling through his mind, debating on whether or not to cross the line.

You were across the line and held out a hand for him to join you.

Just when you were about to retreat from the bus out of embarrassment that maybe he only wanted to be physical with you, he gathered you up and kissed you again, one hand on your cheek as it slid down your neck. You were positive he could hear the beat of your heart as he slowly walked you backwards down the little living area and to his private room in the back.

You broke the kiss, “But soundcheck––”

“They can find someone else to sing into the mic,” he interrupted you, turning the knob of the door to the small bedroom. The door flew open and Shawn reattached your lips as he rushed the two of you inside. And then, as if there were prying eyes of eager fans who wanted to know every detail about his life around, he shut the door right behind him so that it was just the two of you in the room.

Alone for the first time since crossing the line.

Shawn wasted no time in taking your hips in his hands as he pressed you up against the door, attacking you with kisses. The odd plastic material of the door was uncomfortable against your back, but with Shawn’s chest pressed up against yours, you didn’t mind it.

As if it would be the last time you kissed, the two of you weren’t holding back. The kisses he gave you, that you reciprocated, were open-mouthed, rough, and fiery.

In moments like these, it was your greatest desire to run your hands along his chest, to be as physically close to him as possible, to rest your hands on his chest to feel if his heartbeat was beating as fast as yours. But with both of his hands pinning your arms down to your sides, Shawn made that impossible, and you were forced to keep your arms limp as he nipped down your neck.

But after a few shrugs of your shoulder, he released your arms and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tugging on his hair. Shawn was particular when people touched his hair, and your fingers were full of hesitance when they first combed through his curls, but from the guttural sound he made when you pulled his hair from your collarbone back up to your lips, you knew he wasn’t complaining about you messing up his hair.

As much as you wanted to feel him, you savored the feeling of him touching your body. His fingers ran up and down your sides, tracing lines on your back, inching your dress up.

Suddenly, as if the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, he pulled away from you and ran his own hand through his hair. You didn’t have to feel his heartbeat to know that it was beating just as fast as yours.

While you weren’t pleased by the sudden loss of contact, you couldn’t help but feel the slow tug of a smile at the corners of your mouth as you looked at him. His white collared shirt was wrinkled and half-way untucked from his black skinny jeans. And his curls were sticking up in a few different directions.

“You still wanna do this?”

His voice wavered in uncertainty, just like it did the day he first kissed you.

You stepped forward, hooking your index fingers through his belt loops, as you tilted your head up to sneak another kiss away from him as your answer. Finally, he crossed the line and was with you on the other side.

Shawn held your head in his hands, tucking your hair behind your ears as he dragged his tongue across your lip to tease you. You could’ve done without the short and sudden break of his kisses, but you would do anything for him if it eased his nerves.

There was a change of pace to the way he touched you. Your heart was still beating at a pace that would worry some medical professionals, but you felt calm and a sense of control you hadn’t felt before. Your fingers stumbled over his belt buckle as you somehow managed to unhook it, only breaking your kisses once to pull the belt out of the loops. You held the leather material loosely in your hands, as you let it it slip away, dropping to the floor of the tour bus carelessly, the clanking of the buckle was loud enough for both of you to jump.

“My bad,” you nervously laughed off your embarrassment. Shawn pulled away slightly to stare at you. A smile softly made its way onto his face as he tilted his head to look at you with adoration. You felt hot under his gaze, but you didn’t mind the attention you were receiving from him.

Just like every time you had been together, you wanted to watch him come undone and know that it was you who caused him to feel that way.

Shawn’s eyes traveled up, smile widening as crinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes as he softly laughed at the flower crown tangled in your hair. It took both of his hands to remove it, and when he found a strand of hair tangled on the stem of one of the flowers, he gently unraveled it.

“I thought it added a nice touch to my outfit, a fan gave it to me,” you said with a pout as Shawn placed the flower crown on the small table in the room, “Don’t you like to play dress-up?”

“No,” Shawn answered with a whisper, “I’m tired of games.”

There was something about his voice, a delicateness to it that held a certain amount of desperation––of exhaustion––that you wanted to make disappear.

His tone was soon replaced with a boyish smile before he reattached your lips to his. Both of you took your time, but the urgency in your kisses and touches didn’t go unnoticed. Your fingers went to unbuttoning his shirt as you guided him to walk backwards to his bed. Once the top half of the shirt was unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, spreading the shirt open to pop off the rest of the buttons. Shawn pulled his arms out one by one, as the shirt slowly slid off his shoulders, making sure that he always had a hand on your body. Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned and hanging from the top of his jeans, you tugged on the tucked portion out of his pants to threw it on the floor.

“That shirt wrinkles easily,” Shawn easily smiled at you, “My stylist will have your head.”

You let out a humorless laugh as you ran your hands over his chest, “I hear if you ask her nicely she’ll do anything you say.”

His skin was warm like the summer air.

“Will she now?” His smile morphed into a smirk as you felt him fiddle with the zipper on the back of your dress. You nodded your head as you felt him pull the zipper down your back in a teasingly slow manner only to zip it right back up.

He did that a few times and the control over him you felt before was dwindling away with every tug of the dress zipper. Instead of surrendering and giving him the upper hand, you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto the bed. Surprised by your act of boldness, he tilted his head up at you. But you could see that he enjoyed whatever dynamic was happening from the mischievous glint that twinkled up at you.

You moved to stand in between his legs, looking down at him and mirroring the lust in his eyes, as he wrapped his hands around your thighs at your knees and dragged his hands up. He never broke eye contact with you as his hands moved further up your thighs, disappearing under the material of your dress.

You urged Shawn to scoot back on the bed. With your hands on his shoulders to keep balanced, you straddled him, resting your knees on either side of him. You paused for a moment to run a hand through his hair before bending your head to capture his lips in a kiss. Shawn’s hands gripped your waist, and with one hand inching up your back toward the zipper, he finally managed to bring the zipper all the way down.

But before your moment of intimacy could continue on, you pulled back and raised your eyebrows at him. Shawn didn’t seem too pleased at the loss of contact, but didn’t press you any further than what you were comfortable with.

“Are you sure?”

You were giving him an out; he knew that. And while you wanted nothing more to continue on with what was to come, first and foremost he was your boss. You were on his payroll and you didn’t want to make things any more complicated than they already were. Sure, the two of you had sex before, but this was crossing a line into uncharted territory with real feelings.

Your question caused his smile to falter a little. But with a hoarse voice, he managed to soften his eyes as they stared into yours, doing his best to convey every word, “Really fucking sure.”

The way he looked into your eyes––like you held every inspiration to every one of his future songs and how his voice sounded like he was pleading with you to let him imoralitize every detail of this feeling on pen and paper––you almost surrendered. You almost let him have complete control to do whatever he pleased to your body, just so you could really feel the true impact of his words. But you didn’t want to wave a white flag just yet, so you motioned him to slide further back on the bed, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushed him down.

You had never been so forward with him, so direct in what you wanted, that a gasp escaped from his throat when his head hit the pillow. Leaning over him, you lowered yourself down, pinning his arms by his biceps, much like he had done to you earlier against the door, and caught him in a kiss. This time, your tongue dominated, exploring every inch of his mouth and softly biting down on his lower lip, dragging it away with you until you released it.

Shawn didn’t fight you, and you kept your grip on his biceps as you trailed kisses up his jaw all the way to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. Your kisses up and down his neck were full of desire, licking and sucking your way down.

Shawn sighed as you reached his collarbone, and when you peered up at him, his eyes were closed. His body radiated with warmth, as you moved your lips slowly down his chest, as you released the grip you had on his arms to caress his chest.

As soon as his biceps were free from the constraints of your hands, Shawn gained the upper hand, and flipped you over so you were on your back. He sat with his knees between your legs, with the lack of control you felt sheepish under him, but he offered you a shy smile that rekindled the light in your lower abdomen.

Shawn started at your knees, one hand on each, and ran his hands over your legs. His eyes were bright and alluring, stare never faltering, as your body was on high alert, attentive as his fingers skimmed underneath your dress.

Even with the dress still on, you felt exposed, as he gripped your thighs with each hand and pulled you toward him. Then he leaned down toward you, moving slowly between your legs and up your torso to give you another kiss.

“Y/n,” Shawn hummed as if not believing he was awake for this moment. He slowly dragged down a strap of your dress and kissed the spot of your shoulder where it had previously laid, “We’re gonna do this?”

“I…I want to,” you admitted shyly, pulling your arm out of the strap. Shawn helped you remove your other arm from the strap as you asked, “Do you want to?”

Shawn smiled, “I really want to.” He sat up, pulling your dress up over your head so fast that you weren’t even sure how it happened until you felt a coldness over your exposed body.

Your dress was tossed carelessly on the floor, as Shawn leaned down to press his chest against yours.

“Cold?” Shawn mumbled as he kissed his way down your neck.

“Um…no,” you sighed in response to his gentle biting at your skin. “You––You’re really warm.”

Shawn leaned over and pulled back the covers on the bed, and nodded for you to climb under the sheets, which you did without hesitation. As your head hit the pillow, Shawn crawled in soon after, unclasping your bra as he glided the straps down your shoulders.

Your fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, which was a little hard considering how tight you were pressed up against each other under the covers. But once you popped the button from his jeans off, Shawn wiggled his legs from out of his pants, flinging them aside. There was a noticeable bulge in his boxer-briefs, and you sucked in a deep breath. Your moment of shyness caused him to let out a small chuckle as he brought a hand to rest on your stomach.

“I kinda like it when you’re nervous,” Shawn whispered and nudged your feet apart, brushing his fingers along the waistband of your underwear. He dipped his index finger below the waistband, gasping when he touched your skin.

“I’m––We’ve had sex before,” you tried to keep your voice even, but with his fingers dropping dangerously low, your voice wavered, “I’m not…nervous.”

Shawn shut his eyes and leaned down to press a peck on your lips. “Okay,” his words were muffled against your lips, as his fingertips lightly brushed over your crotch that was still covered by your underwear. You shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold air. He placed the hand on your waist to hold you in place as he leaned down to catch your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth with no reservations as his hand rubbed soft circles on the inside of your thigh.

His hand left your thighs and traveled upward, pressing a hand flat on you, watching you for your reaction to his touch.

You were crumbling like a cookie when he brought his hand to his mouth, sliding his index and middle finger between his lips. You felt the anticipation building in your lower stomach. He brought his fingers out of his mouth, raising his eyebrow and smirking at you, glowing with smugness. Before you could criticize him for it, his hand slid under your underwear, with his wet fingers gliding over you in between your slit.

As if it was like you were on autopilot, your eyes closed, head falling back on the pillow as you started to feel the build up of the state of euphoria you knew Shawn was going to lead you to. His fingers were agonizingly slow at first as they became acquainted with the sensitive area. His movements were torturous as you bit your bottom lip to keep any obscene words from coming out. Every time the pads of his fingers rubbed your clit, your breath got caught in your throat.

When your eyes opened, just for a millisecond, you should see that his eyes were only focused on you. His eyes seemed just as intrigued by your reaction as you were with his fingers. You brought a hand up onto his shoulder, slowly moving it to the back of his neck to hold you for support, bringing him down for a kiss that you instantly deepened. Shawn made that sound again, a content grunt in the back of his throat, as you felt the feeling of the bulge grow against your thigh.

Still breathing heavily, Shawn broke the kiss, but still had his fingers working down below.

“I want you,” he breathed, lips against your ear. And from the way his fingers skimmed over you with ease, slippery and coated, he knew just how much you wanted him.

Before you could verbalize your desire for him, his arm tightened around you as he pushed your thighs further apart with his knee. His middle finger began to move in circles over your clit, gentle at first, then increasing in pressure. You threw your head back onto the pillow, clenching your jaw tight to hold off the sounds you knew he wanted you to make. But when the speed of his fingers increased, you opened your eyes and were automatically met with his determined eyes staring into yours, you couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your lips. You brought an arm up to curl around his neck to lift yourself up slightly from the bed as you buried your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sound of your moans.

When Shawn removed his finger from beneath your underwear for a split second you groaned into his neck, missing the contact of his skin on yours when you were so close to a release. He took his wrist and rolled it to stretch it out and then his hand dipped right back in as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

His movements were a little sloppier with his tired hand, but the feeling in your lower stomach began to build faster and faster with every flick of his wrist. A tingly feeling started out on the tip of your toes and spread further and further up your body, making all of the hair on your body stick up.

When you finally felt it––the tensing of your muscles and a euphoric release all at once––you threw your head back on the pillow, bringing Shawn down with you, as your hips bucked against his hand. But his movements didn’t stop there, he kept his finger circling your clit, encouraging you to ride out your high.

You were not a stranger to Shawn making you feel like you were on top of the world, but something about confirming your mutual want for each other beyond a little fun here and there, made your orgasm earth shattering. You felt it rip through your body that left you in a puddle on the bed. Shawn slowed down his movements, hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear, helping you shimmy out of them. In one swift movement, he discarded your underwear somewhere around the room and removed his own.

Once he kicked his legs to get his underwear off from around his ankles he trapped you in a kiss, grinding his body against yours, not shy about his growing hardness brushing against the inside of your thigh.

With a lazy smile, he pulled away from the kiss as he lifted his body from yours, reaching over to the small night stand next to the bed. He fumbled his hand inside the drawer, “Where is it––Fucking thing––Got it,” he slammed the drawer closed with a bang as he retrieved the condom, ripped the package open, and left the wrapper on the night stand.

As you watched him slip the condom on, all you could think of was how many times you found yourself in this position; lying beneath Shawn, forehead glistening with a bit of sweat, as you felt a shiver shake your body at what was about to happen.

Shawn leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses up your stomach before meeting your lips. His warmth spread over you, bringing a slight relaxing effect to your nerves. Your breaths were shallow, chest rising and falling rapidly. Shawn noticed your nerves and paused, the tip of his shaft against your opening.

“Everything’s alright,” he lightly brushed his lips against yours in reassurance.

Shawn waited until he got a nod in confirmation from you before he continued, and in one swift motion, he slid in with ease. You scrunched up your nose and screwed your eyes shut as you felt him push himself further into you. It was a pleasurable sensation, but you couldn’t deny the little bit of pain you felt as he stretched your walls.

When Shawn saw the expression on your face, he slowed down his movements, letting out a grunt as he came to a complete stop, “Okay?”

There was a tenderness behind his words from the way he checked in on you to make sure you were comfortable. He had always been gentle and kind with you in the past, but this felt more special. And the more you looked up at his face, with his eyebrows scrunched together in concern, it planted a seed of confidence in your stomach to try something neither of you had done in the bedroom together; you lightly pushed at his chest for him to get off you.

Before he could get a word past his lips, you sat up and swung one of your legs over his waist. You took his cheeks into your hands, and when Shawn realized what you were doing, a smirk grew on his face. He propped himself up on his elbows, moving back on the bed a bit, as you placed your hands on his shoulders.

Without another word, you lowered yourself onto him, Shawn trying his best to keep his eyes open and connected with yours.

But when you sunk fully down onto him, he screwed his eyes tight, throwing his head back against the flimsy tour bus headboard, “Shit.”

You kept one hand on his shoulder as the other trailed up to hold his cheek in your hand, thumb grazing his jawline as you felt it tighten. You moaned softly, neither one of you saying a word, as your fingernails dug into his shoulder.

With the new position you found yourself in, you had more of a sense of control than any of the other times you were intimate with him. It was something you liked. You were moving, up and down, at a rhythmic pace, as Shawn ran his fingers up and down your thighs. He placed a hand on your waist, keeping you in position as he moved further back on the bed.

Your movements were faster and Shawn pressed a quick kiss to your lips as he lowered his head and placed his lips over your breast. If it wasn’t for Shawn’s hand on your hip, encouraging you to keep up with your movements, you would have stopped right then and there. Your mouth hung open as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, at a loss for words, you ran your fingers through his curls and pulled on them a little. Shawn moaned against your breast in pleasure, sending vibrations throughout your body.

Shawn lifted his head and placed a sweet kiss below your ear, “Relax.” His voice was soft, but seeing as you two were still connected at the hips, his voice was thick.

You hadn’t realized that your breathing was sharp and uneven. You stilled your hips and pressed a hand against your chest, as you tried to calm down your breathing. You were more embarrassed about your erratic breathing than you were about being naked on top of him. He had seen you naked before, but never had he seen you nervous quite like this.

“I…” You were racking your brain for an excuse, but with a quirk of his eyebrow and a soft smile, you knew any lie you told would be detected by him, “I’m nervous.”

Shawn smiled and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you in for a hug. His calloused fingers ran up and down your spine as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, taking in a deep, shaky breath.

“It’s alright,” Shawn whispered into your ear, fingers still delicately dancing on your back, “Trust me.”

He pressed a few kisses on your shoulder before you nodded your head against him. You trusted him a lot. More than you probably should. With your confirmation, Shawn pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head and wrapped a strong arm around your waist as he swiftly flipped you over onto your back.

Without a slight notion of hesitation, Shawn thrusted back into you, so deep that you clenched your teeth and pressed your head deep onto the pillow. You gasped as he pulled out, and when he thrusted back into you again, sharp and quick, you parted your lips, "Shawn.”

Shawn’s pace was faster than yours, but his thrusts were still careful and executed perfectly as he hit the right spot every time. You let out a sigh of content at the sensation of being joined together with another person––a person you cared deeply about.

He kept himself hovered over you with a hand fisting the white sheets right by your head, and hooked his other arm under your thigh, wrapping it around his waist. He held your thigh in place as he continued his fast thrusts. The only sound you heard in the tiny back room of the tour bus were the mixed gasps of air shared between the two of you and the slap of skin as Shawn repeatedly pushed into you.

Your head started to spin as you felt your stomach tighten, reaching your peak. Shawn had taken the words right from you since he stood behind you when you first walked onto the tour bus. So, as you struggled to keep the lewd sounds of your orgasm to a minimum, you tried to keep your eyes locked with the brown irises above you. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he bit on his bottom lip, concentrating on every thrust of his hips as they collided with yours.

His eyes were soft, trailing down your body and then back up to stare into your eyes. You brought a hand up to his forehead and pushed back the curls that were slightly sticking to hid skin from the thin layer of sweat. He sucked in a breath of air as you felt the pads of fingers tighten around your thigh.

“Y/n.”

You could feel when he hit his high; voice sounding desperate, as his pace became quicker and sloppier as he lowered himself until your chests were pressed together. He nuzzled his head into your neck, pressing hot open kisses up and down your throat.

You grabbed a fisful of his curls as he continued to slowly rock back and forth until he completely stalled his movement inside of you. He released a deep breath, hot and full of pure content at the conclusion of your little activity, and raised his head to look into your eyes. Shawn reached a hand up and ran his fingers over your hairline before softly tracing his fingers down the side of your face, cupping your cheek.

With your chests still stuck together by sweat, he only had to lower his head a few centimeters to brush his lips against yours. The kisses were intimate, soft like a kid chasing a butterfly on a warm spring afternoon, before he changed the pace and captured your lips in a deep kiss. The hold he had on your thigh dropped as he trailed his hand from the tops of your thigh, giving your hips a light pinch that had you squirming under him, and then slid his hand up to rest on your ribcage, just below your breast.

Your thoughts were wildly running around, basking in the feeling of being fully consumed by him.

You were consumed by the feeling of the blazing trail his touches left on you. Consumed by his voice, saying your name with all the care and wonder in the world, but also in a tone that you would never want your parents to hear. Consumed by the taste of his salty skin as you pressed kisses along his neck and the smell of freshly washed clothes mixed with sweet post-sex. But most of all, you were consumed by the sight of the boy on top of you; eyes always searching yours to make sure you were comfortable.

It felt like you didn’t know how to breathe until this moment.

When he pulled out of you, there was a shy smile toying on his face. He looked nothing like the previous times when the two of you had just finished having sex. In those moments in the past, he would have a satisfied and confident smirk on his face, knowing he made you feel better than anyone else. But even with his confidence, he still had those soft eyes though.

Soft eyes and a shy smile.

Shawn removed the condom and tossed it in the trash can that was next to his bed, crawling back under the covers. He laid on his side, head resting on the pillow to face you, as he wiggled under the covers, getting in a comfortable position.

“Hi,” he said with a smile on his face.

You found his hand under the covers and slotted your fingers through his as you returned his soft smile, “Hey.”

Shawn gave your hand a slight squeeze and the two of you fell into silence staring at each other. Normally, being under someone’s gaze, especially Shawn’s, would cause you to shudder back. But not this time. You felt the complete opposite; the more he stared at you, the more you felt desired––more confident.

He untangled your hands, and at first you were sad about the loss of contact, but he threw an arm over your waist and pulled you in close to his chest, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. You fitted your arm around him and smiled into his bare chest, because yes, while holding hands is a nice gesture, it didn’t hold a flame to the feeling of leaning against his chest; your head rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing as your heartbeat tried to sync up with his. While you felt the erratic beating of his heart, you were having trouble getting your heartbeat to slow down for him.

Maybe your heart would always beat a little faster for him.

#skdhfksf #here ya go #some smut on this friday #enjoy your weekend!!!!#please let me know your thoughts!!#smut makes me slkjfsd so I'd love to know your thoughts bc I don't write it very often #I hope you've all had a good week!! tell me a highlight!!#THANKS A MILLION BAJILLION!!!#ALSO WHO WANTS TO SCREAM ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFTS NEW ALBUM WITH ME!!!!#ILLICIT AFFAIRS IS THE ANGST I HAVE ALWAYS DREAMED OF WRITING #it has inspired me in a way though 👀#Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes drabble #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Mendes blurbs #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn mendes oneshots #Shawn Mendes writings #Shawn meneds drabbles #Shawn Mendes writings

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ms-march · 3 years

Text

12 Days of Turn- “Festival”

uhm yeah you’re not being deceived by this header collage. Happy day 3 of 12 Days of Turn! Here is a collaboration with @tallmadgeandtea on a ss:sp and lbl crossover! While it is not inherently holiday themed, like at all, it was just too good to not post for the prompt “festival.” If you like it please be sure to give it a like, comment, and/or reblog! Disclaimer: there will be some serious lbl spoilers ahead!

May had blossomed in Virginia once again, and Belvoir’s grounds were as beautiful as always. Ever since John had resigned as an aide de camp and taken a fighting command in Nathanael Greene’s Southern Army, Adrienne had occupied herself by taking trips and hosting extravagant parties at her childhood home. The guest lists and menus never ceased to distract her from whatever certain peril John placed himself in daily. Today she dressed in a blue and yellow polonaise gown with a blue brimmed straw hat for a garden party, hosted in the extravagant and freshly manicured gardens behind the Manor. Her blonde curls were arranged perfectly atop her head as she walked down to the large main entrance hall with a grand doorway leading straight out into the gardens behind it.

Adrienne stood atop the landing on the grand staircase, and the footmen opened the large front doors, two more appearing and stepping outside to assist guests out of their carriages. Adrienne gladly smiled at each of them, motioning them behind her and out the doors to the garden. Most of the guests were members of Virginia high society: Martha Jefferson, Dolley Madison, Elizabeth Wythe, Martha Washington, Elizabeth Randolph, Catharine Greene, Dorothea Henry, Anne Lee, and many more. But none of them piqued Adrienne’s interest as much as the additional guest requested by Martha Washington.

Adrienne had known the older woman for as much of her life as she could remember; the woman was as a mother to her, so she was more than willing to grant such a request when it was brought to her. Upon hearing the name Mrs. Elizabeth Tallmadge, however, Adrienne became excited. She held Major Tallmadge in high esteem, considering him a friend of hers, and was more than delighted to extend an invite to his wife, even if she would likely be unused to such luxury as was provided at Belvoir. Adrienne trusted Martha would make her presentable, but when Martha began to ascend the stairs, there was not some pretty faced and practical middle-class girl following her, rather a well-dressed and beautiful tall blonde woman. She was mesmerizing to Adrienne as she climbed the staircase, her blue and white chintz gown brushing the steps. It was slightly clear the girl had no governess or formal studies of such, but Adrienne was entirely confident that she could perform to the highest tier without so much as a headache appearing.

The blonde had a radiant and warm smile, complimenting Martha’s own motherly grin, as she looked around the extravagant hall in awe, admiring the murals across the walls and the marble of the stairs. Her hand hovered over the ornate railing as she floated up the stairs. When she finally joined Adrienne and Martha atop the landing, Martha smiled, waving the slightly shy girl over to them. “This is a lovely house, madam,” she spoke clear and confidently, “It is certainly a rarity in the colonies.”

“Yes,” Adrienne offered her own warm smile to the woman, seeking to ease her shyness, “It is solely a European style house, based around the classics of Hampton court and the elaborate plaster halls of the baroque style. My father’s pride and joy.”

She nodded politely, and Martha began to speak, the motherly smile still soft across her face, “We shall see you in the garden, dear.” And the blonde was whisked away, her eyes lingering on Adrienne for a moment as she was led by Martha.

When the long parade of guests had all arrived and been accordingly received, Adrienne slowly made her way to the doors leading to the stone staircase leading down into the gardens. She took her time as she descended, allowing the chatter to wash over her in waves. The musicians began to play their light and jovial music- the newest pieces straight from London - as Adrienne exited the doors. There was no need for the crowd to hush and greet her- this was not a formal ball after all-but there were still a few who made to greet their hostess once again, giving her curtseys as she passed. Adrienne nodded at each of them with a respectful smile as she drifted through the group of merry guests. She floated happily from table to table before stumbling upon Martha engaging in a conversation with Catharine Greene, and the blonde from earlier observing the party from an ornate bench with a small flute of cherie in her hand, untouched.

“You do not drink?” Adrienne asked as she approached, “I can send for another beverage if you would like, madam.”

“Oh,” the girl startled from her observations, flushing light pink in the cheeks as she gleaned down at the untouched glass before looking back up at Adrienne, “No, that is really unnecessary. I just find this place too intriguing to be bothered with my drink. There is far too much to observe.”

Adrienne smiled. This woman was undoubtedly Major Tallmadge’s wife. “It would be no trouble,” she assured her, “Please notify one of the servants about or myself if you should find yourself in need of anything at all.”

“And if I find myself in need of your name, madam?”

“Then it shall be readily given,” Adrienne smiled brightly, “Lady Adrienne Fairfax Laurens of Virginia. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.”

The blonde answered her own question in response. “Mrs. Elizabeth Walker Tallmadge of Philadelphia,” she bowed her head for a moment to acknowledge Adrienne’s title, “My Lady.”

Adrienne’s face turned to a quick shock, followed quickly by excitement as she rushed to sit beside the woman. “Walker?” she asked excitedly, “As in the same family that owns the mysterious Walker Manor?�� An amused nod was given to signal that her assumption was correct, allowing Adrienne to continue in disbelief, “That old brick house with closed gates, locked doors, and empty grounds? No one has been seen living there for years!”

Elizabeth laughed at the younger girl’s seemingly naive antics, “I have indeed been living there, though mostly alone for the past 10 years.”

“Alone?” Adrienne asked, astounded, “Without so much as a governess?” Another nod, “Then I should imagine you cherished social outings during such a period, madam, for I cannot fathom such a miserable experience.”

Elizabeth shook her head in dismissal, “Unless you count Sunday church as a social outing, which I am sure you do not.”

Adrienne’s jaw dropped open slightly, her eyes widening slightly, “How horrid! I do believe I would suffer greatly under such circumstances.”

Mrs. Tallmadge looked around the gardens at the decor, servants, and guests galore before responding, “I do believe that you would, my Lady.”

“Oh!” Adrienne reached out, placing her gloved hands atop those of Elizabeth, “Please call me Adrienne or Miss Fairfax at the very least. I do believe it is well deserved after allowing me to pester you so carelessly.”

“Oh, it is no problem at all, believe me. I rather enjoy being pestered.” Elizabeth grinned at her, allowing a happy laugh to escape, with Adrienne’s own laughter joining her. “Now, allow me to pester you in return,” she continued, “Are you at all perhaps related to the Laurens’ of South Carolina? I am friends with Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, who has recently retired to a field command in the southern campaign.”

“Yes, I am” Adrienne spoke, and forcing a smile, she felt a good deal of joy seep out of her body at the mention of her reckless husband, “I married Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens in 1778- our son is inside with his own governess as we speak.”

“Oh!” The woman sounded shocked; Adrienne supposed it was from the lack of such knowledge. She was sure that John did not speak of her often, if at all before he resigned from the northern campaign. “You must be delighted. He is a good man. I was married myself in ’78. He attended our wedding.”

“He is a good man,” Adrienne sighed, attempting to keep the smile on her face, “Even if he is occasionally a little too reckless for my liking.”

“Like taking up a field command in South Carolina?” the older blonde asked, lips pulled into a humorous smile with knowing eyes and raised brows.

Adrienne did laugh lightly as she sighed, stress seeping into her voice, “Yes, precisely like taking up a field command in South Carolina.”

This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to reach her hands out to hold Adrienne’s, “I am sure he will be ok. He has the tendency to pull through even the most difficult of situations, I assure you. It is something he and my husband have in common.”

A servant came around to Adrienne’s side of the bench from behind, presenting a singular letter upon a tray. Adrienne took the letter carefully, curiosity seeping through her fingers as she broke the seal. Her hands unfolded the paper delicately, and she held it in her lap as she began to slowly scan the words.

“On May 12th, 1780, Charleston, South Carolina, was captured by His Majesty’s Royal Army forces under the direction of Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Clinton. Major General Benjamin Lincoln provided them an unconditional surrender, turning over himself and all 3,000 men under his command to the mercy of the British. Those included in these troops are as follows…”

Adrienne’s eyes scanned quickly down the list, heart pounding against her chest as they searched for the one name that mattered the most to her. Her heart ceased in its incessant pounding, stopping entirely as her eyes glazed over the words on the paper before her.

“Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens”

Her throat was dry, and her layers became constricting. She did not notice as the blonde’s astute eyes beside her examined the paper in Adrienne’s hand. Until Elizabeth spoke up, “Adrienne, I am sorry-”

She stood abruptly, swallowing thickly, “You will have to excuse me, Mrs. Tallmadge. I need to get some fresh air.” Adrienne hurried away as quickly as she could into the house and to the room directly to the right of the garden’s entrance, drawing Martha’s eyes and mind from her conversation with Catharine Greene. She excused herself from the woman and began to make her way into the house, Elizabeth trailing closely behind.

Adrienne had called for her son, just a year old, and swaddled in blankets. She sat on a chaise against the wall of the entirely empty bluish-gray room, the letter lying face-up beside her. She did not look up the sound of heels on the tile, attention focused solely on her child.

“What happened?” Martha asked Elizabeth as she rushed through the doorway.

“She got news of her husband,” she replied, electing to forgo discretion in this instance, “And it is not all good.”

“Not good as in he prefers the new position or not good as in he is dead?”

“Neither,” she replied as they rushed into the room, the swishing noise of their silks and the click of their heels across the tile having no effect on the young girl who sat, holding her child. “Charleston has been lost and the Lieutenant Colonel taken prisoner.”

“Oh, not good,” Martha spoke, cutting the conversation off as they approached. Martha took a seat on one side of Lady Fairfax, moving the letter to her hands so that she could sit, with Elizabeth sitting on the girl’s other side. “Adrienne, dear,” Martha spoke, placing a hand on Adrienne’s forearm, “Tell us what has happened. We only wish to help.” She continued trying to soothe the distraught girl for several minutes to no avail. Martha finally excused herself to send for some cold water and a washrag, hoping that would be enough to pull Adrienne out of the shock that had overtaken her body.

Elizabeth stayed with her, observing the young woman as she cradled the baby in her arms, holding him close against her chest. She watched as Adrienne softly shushed the baby, bouncing him just slightly. “May I hold him?” she asked, pulling the girl from her stupor.

Adrienne’s eyes glanced over to the woman in blue beside her before clearing her throat and snapping to attention, “Yes, of course, you may.” She carefully handed the bundle of blankets over to Elizabeth, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “Be gentle with him,” she spoke in what sounded a bit like a plea, eyes still focused on the baby’s face, “Little John is still just barely a year old, and he is very precious to me.”

Elizabeth nodded, the baby taking her full attention as well. A happy smile rested on her face as the baby cooed, but unlike Adrienne, she made no attempt to shush him. “He is named after his father?” she asked the young girl softly.

“Yes,” Adrienne smiled in a similar way to Martha Washington as she looked upon the baby, “He shares his father’s eyes.” The baby whined, prompting Adrianne to reach out and caress his soft cheeks and comfortingly hum to the child, Elizabeth recognizing the song as the chorus of “In Days of My Youth.” When the boy finally quieted, satisfied with her attentions, “And his temper as well.”

Elizabeth laughed a little at that, making faces to baby John. “He is an angel,” she whispered to the young woman beside her.

“He is incredibly well-behaved today,” she agreed, “But do not let him fool you.” She whispered, caressing his cheek, “His lungs are as strong as can be. I should think he could give Colonel Hamilton a run for his money once he is older.”

“As his father already does?”

“Precisely,” Adrienne replied, prompting the two girls to begin laughing once more.

A moment of silence passed over the room and between the young women, the coos of the baby being the only things stopping the room from falling into complete silence. Finally, Elizabeth spoke, turning to look at Lady Fairfax, “I could write Benjamin for any news on Lieutenant Colonel Laurens if you would like, Miss Fairfax. It would be no trouble at all.”

Adrienne opened her mouth to reply before closing it with a sigh, “No, it is likely the news has not yet reached the northern campaign.” Elizabeth opened her mouth, no doubt to offer a statement of hope or a plea to at least attempt the contact, but Adrienne waved her off kindly with a tired smile. “There is very little General Washington could do for John, besides make his situation worse. No,” she brushed invisible dust from her skirts, “I shall go to Charlestown. As a member of the British Aristocracy, I benefit from accommodation by any of His Majesty’s forces. And they will be forced to heed to my wishes out of respect for the hierarchy of British society.”

Mrs. Tallmadge placed a concerned hand over Adrienne’s own once more, her brow furrowed in concern, “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“It is the best idea I have got, and the best chance John has got,” she spoke, attempting to sound convincing, to herself as well as Elizabeth, “Even if he will be cross with me for my interference.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips slightly, trying to pull them into a smile as she did so, “Are you sure you do not wish for the General to interfere on your behalf instead?”

“Yes,” Adrienne nodded, forcing out a shaky breath, “Unveiling any further connection between the Lieutenant Colonel and Uncle George will only make easing his situation even harder. They will make it worse, attempting to dangle him before the General.”

Elizabeth nodded, observing the girl a little closer upon her comment, ‘Uncle George? That is certainly new.’

Adrienne looked away from the older woman, down to the baby now sleeping peacefully in her arms. Adrienne laughed quietly at his little snores, “Would you mind coming with me to put him to bed? I fear it will wake him if I were to take him.”

Elizabeth nodded and rose slowly, following the shorter blonde out the light blue room’s large entranceway, farther into the house. She followed Adrienne up an elaborate white staircase, across an upper terrace of a small tiled ballroom, through a paneled door to a less ornate but large room of yellow and green. The room had a plush alcove bed with two doors on each side of it, several chairs, and a chaise. There were toys of obvious expense that the baby could not yet hold arranged decoratively on the floor. Adrienne led her to the bed, instructing her to place the baby atop of it. She pulled a little lever connected to a wire with her finger and sat on the edge of the bed. Elizabeth watched as she sang softly to the baby in the bed.

“From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay; From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay. Where pride without measure and pomp without pleasure, make life in a circle of hurry decay.” Adrienne continued to hum the melody softly until the door left of the bed opened and a woman, a servant, stepped out, curtsying to the two ladies. She rose wordlessly, smiling warmly at the woman as she took a seat in the room before ushering Elizabeth out of the room with her. “I like to have someone watch over him as he sleeps,” she explained to the older woman, “It makes me feel better when I leave him to rest.”

Elizabeth nodded at her, smiling back to Adrienne, “A mother never stops worrying about her child.”

“Are you yourself one?” Adrienne asked politely as they stood in the hall outside the bedroom.

“No, Miss Fairfax,” Elizabeth smiled sadly, “As badly as I wish for a child of my own, my husband wishes to wait till after the war. Though I cannot help but agree with him. I can not imagine how hard it is to be a mother during times like these. And who knows how I would manage.”

Adrienne smiled comfortingly up at the tall woman, “And I have no doubt you will make an excellent one.” She offered her arm to Elizabeth, who looped their arms together as they walked down the hall, turning before reaching the terrace they had crossed originally, slowly strolling down a long and wide hallway with a series of proudly displayed portraits.

Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the walls, recognizing one of them, a very young little girl with blonde hair with a white linen gown and blue silk sash wrapped around her waist. It was Lady Fairfax, she realized. Her eyes darted away, noticing another young woman, not as young as Adrienne, but a child nonetheless. She had wavy brown hair and wore a solid blue dress similar in shade to Adrienne’s own. There was a plaque underneath the portrait that read “Lady Anne Fairfax 1748-1763.” The girl was only a mere fifteen years old at her passing.

The next portrait that caught her eye was one of a man in a blue and gold silk coat, this was also labeled, “Viscount George William Fairfax 1729-” there was no year of death, and Elizabeth realized he must have been older than the General. The final portrait that caught her eye was not dressed in blue or white, but pink. The plaque read “Sarah Walker Fairfax 1719-1754” and Elizabeth paused, jerking Adrienne’s attention to her. 1719, that was a Walker older than her own father.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Tallmadge?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, giving the girl a smile, “I was just admiring this portrait, and the name startled me.”

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed with a large, genuine smile, “That is my grandmother, of Virginia’s original Fairfaxes. Do not let her poise fool you. She was born in the Colonies, rather than England. Was raised in the Caribbean, actually.”

“And born where?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“Pennsylvania or Maryland, I think,” Adrienne replied, “I am not sure. Why do you ask?”

“I have seen this portrait before,” Elizabeth spoke, eyes examining the painting, “In the storage of Walker Manor. Every time I asked about it, my father would simply ignore me.”

“Walker Manor,” Adrienne asked, moving to stand beside the tall blonde, “Do you think she could be related to you in any way?”

“Who were her parents?”

“I do not recall her mother, but her father was a man named John Francis Walker.”

Elizabeth gasped, turning quickly to Adrienne, “That is my uncle! I have never met him, he has long since passed, but my father has spoken of him several times when complaining about old fixtures around the house. He likes to say he was the one who inherited both the Philadelphia status and the messes that came with it.”

Adrienne’s face lit up as well, not caring about the previous comment by Elizabeth’s father. She reached out to hold each of Elizabeth’s hands in her own, “That is very exciting, madam, that I could have just met you today only to find out that we are related!”

“Indeed it is!” Elizabeth spoke happily as she laughed at Adrienne’s childish joy. “Though I suppose it is not too surprising. Old Philadelphians may complain about Old Virginians, but we have all found a way to get into each society’s most prominent families.” She turned to face the rest of the hall, eyes scanning portraits until they landed on a pair of paintings, each of a young man in a red and blue military coat. She walked to them gladly, Adrienne trailing behind her.

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed as she realized who the two twin paintings that hung from the walls were. “Those were gifts from Mrs. Mary Ball Washington. The one on top is Uncle George when he was a Colonel in the British-American Army during the French-Indian war.” She pointed up to it, “And the one below it is his elder brother, Lawrence Washington, a Major in His Majesty’s Army. I was engaged to him for a short period between the deaths of my sister, Anne, and his own.”

“His elder brother?” the woman asked, astounded, “But the general is approaching fifty years of age if I am correct!”

“Yes,” Adrienne laughed, “There would have been quite the age gap between us.”

“Would a child even be possible in such a match?” Mrs. Tallmadge asked as they continued to walk along, turning from the hall and down a separate set of marble stairs with even mural-sized portraits lining the walls.

“Yes,” Adrienne replied, “But I would have been married far younger. With Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, I was given the luxury of time, and I am very grateful for it.”

The women descended the stairs, and Adrienne ushered her out the door underneath the staircase that led out to the gardens. “I must collect Martha. We will return to the party shortly,” she assured Elizabeth, “I have already been absent for too long. It is unbecoming of a hostess to abandon her guests in such a manner.”

Elizabeth reached out, grabbing Adrienne’s elbow as she turned away from her, causing Adrienne to look back at her as she stood in the doorway. “If you ever should find yourself in need of anything, please, let me know,” she smiled softly, letting her hand fall back to her side. There was a knowing gleam in her eye, “I have a way of getting things done.”

Adrienne smiled brightly back at her, laughing happily at her statement, then turned around entirely and disappeared down the sunny corridor.

#this was..lots of fun #i always love writing Belvior #and I also love liz #so i really hope you all like it #lbl #ss:sp #martha washington #adrienne fairfax #liz walker #lady adrienne fairfax #elizabeth walker #john laurens #ben tallmadge #benjamin tallmadge #12daysofturn2020 #12 days of turn 2020 #12 days of turn #turn amc #turn: washington's spies

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

Photo

Left you all on a cliffhanger last time, so let’s just jump right in! Previous part of the POTC AU here, the whole tag is here, and Jules Farrier is @cursebreakerfarrier’s! Let’s go! <3

x~x~x~x

It took a moment for Orion to recover from Carewyn’s “confession.” It took a little longer still before he felt brave enough to make any movement toward her, though he still found himself oddly uncertain of how to proceed. For, believe it or not, the dashing pirate Orion Amari had never been in love with anyone else, nor did he have much instinct of how best to express affection. He’d encountered plenty of pirates who were “ladies’ men” in Tortuga and the like, of course -- but not only did Orion find they often gave off unpleasant vibes, but he knew for a fact that not one of them could have ever caught the eye of someone like Carewyn Cromwell.

And so Orion found himself hesitating, his hand resting just over Carewyn’s shoulder just shy of her cheek, as he watched her face for her reaction. Carewyn fortunately picked up on Orion’s shyness immediately, and she inclined her head in a muted, encouraging nod as she brought her own hand up to lightly trail over his cheek. The gentleness of the gesture made a shudder ripple through Orion’s shoulders, and he soon found himself mirroring her, smoothing a piece of her bangs from her eyes with his pointer and middle fingers. Her lips spread into a smile as she leaned in, her hand securing itself on his jawline, and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

That kiss lasted three seconds.

The warmth of her lips on top of his seemed to fill Orion with a wonderful lightness, as if he were coming up off the ground -- and when it ended, there was a strange feeling of withdrawal. It felt like he’d gotten only a small taste of some sugary sweet, and it just wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

And so, almost as soon as she’d pulled away, Orion found himself bringing both hands up to her cheeks, cradling it as he slowly leaned in and kissed her again.

That kiss lasted fifteen seconds.

When they broke apart again, both of them were smiling. Carewyn leaned her forehead against his, and for a moment, all they could do was hold each other, reveling in this bizarre new feeling of closeness. It was so warm and fulfilling, and yet peaceful and soothing at the same time. Orion was more off-balance than ever and yet...all seemed right with the world.

As happy as the moment was, however, they both knew it couldn’t last. Carewyn was the one who woke up from the dream first.

“...What do we do now?” she murmured.

Orion’s face became much more somber seeing the sad glint in Carewyn’s gaze as it fell away. He considered her carefully, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“...I don’t know,” he said at last, very softly.

His eyes trailed over her face even though she still couldn’t look up at him.

“...I know I cannot ask you to come with me. You could never be a pirate, Carewyn Cromwell. Your spirit’s free as one, but your heart is too noble. Too heroic and selfless...”

His gaze softened sadly.

“And as long as your family -- your found family as well as your brother -- is out on the high seas...I know you would never abandon the position that gives you the power to protect them. ...Nor could I ever ask that of you.”

Carewyn met Orion’s eyes again. Her blue eyes were rippling to the brim with emotion, raging and turbulent as the sea itself.

“And I can’t ask you to stay with me,” she said. “As long as the East India Trading Company is obsessed with hunting down and killing all pirates...it would never be safe for you in Port Royal...or near me.”

She leaned her forehead against his again, closing her eyes.

Orion wished he knew how best to comfort her. Tentatively he secured his arms around her and brought up a hand to cradle the back of her head, the way he’d seen a woman hold her beau’s head while kissing him goodbye at the dock, when he was a boy.

“The world does indeed seem to be against us,” he said softly, “but the world in itself is not meant to be static. It, and fate, is constantly moving. Fate brought us together once, long ago...and it also demanded we separate. It brought us back together, and then we had to separate once more. Like the sun chases the moon...they do see each other every morning at dawn and every night at dusk...even if they must be apart so much of the time.”

Orion adjusted slightly so that he could look Carewyn in the face more easily.

“...Even if we must do that pattern several more times over,” he whispered, “I would cherish every time we met in the sky again, even if it’s only fleetingly.”

Carewyn looked up at him, her eyes full of pain. The movement made their lips suddenly only a hair’s width apart.

“You’d be all right with just that?” she asked.

He could feel her breath against his lips. It was enough to make his heart rate spike, and he had to take a stabilizing breath before answering.

“It seems to me that this...is something that most people could go their whole life never knowing for a moment. With that perspective...those precious moments where we could cross paths would be a gift, not an injustice.”

Carewyn frowned. “I understand, but...in this world we’re in, we should not want to collide at all. I’d have to arrest you, and we’d have to fight. There’s only so much we can pretend...so much I can pretend.”

She closed her eyes again, but this time, she didn’t just look sad -- she looked focused. When she opened her eyes again, it was full of a new kind of fire.

“If the world is meant to change...then I’ll make sure it does,” she said firmly. “I’ll fight for a world where you don’t have to run, and I don’t have to lie -- where Bill, Charlie, and Jules don’t have to be criminals just because they were determined to save my life. Where the Navy protects its citizens more than the East India Trading Company’s bottom line. ...Where people aren’t automatically branded criminals with no chance of reprieve or proper justice.”

Orion considered Carewyn for a moment, his expression rather unreadable. Carewyn’s confidence flickered ever-so-slightly.

“...You don’t believe me?”

Orion’s lips spread into a full, soft smile.

“I learned when I was still a boy trying to argue against eating and staying the night in a stranger’s house never to doubt the convictions of Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened as her lips also spread into a very small, warm smile. Then she leaned in to close the gap between their mouths once more.

That kiss lasted only a second, but there were about five more of them in rapid succession, a little longer and deeper each time.

The following day, the Artemis found a deserted island on one of the rum runners’ routes where they could drop Carewyn off. The crew was a bit disappointed to see her go -- sure, she was a bit too paragon to be a pirate, but she was a capable sailor and her singing voice was pleasant to listen to. Most importantly of all, they could all sense how much their Captain had taken to her and hated the thought of him being unhappy without her.

Carewyn and Skye exchanged a respectful handshake and farewells. McNully shook Carewyn’s hand too, but both she and he ended up using both hands in the end -- Carewyn lamented that she wouldn’t be able to work with such a talented tactician back with the Navy. Then Orion escorted Carewyn ashore on his own, the crew staying behind so that they could exchange their proper farewells.

Both of them stayed very stoic for most of the hand-off. Orion could only give Carewyn a jug of water and a pistol with one shot, as per the rules of marooning, as much as he’d also wished he could give her a bottle of rum and some food for the next few days she’d no doubt be on the island, waiting for someone to pick her up. But as Carewyn pointed out, she wouldn’t die of thirst in that time, and she honestly shouldn’t look in great shape when she was recovered anyway. And so, reluctantly, Orion turned to go.

He’d made it about twenty paces when he paused, looking back at Carewyn on the beach. She was standing in true Commodore fashion, with her arms behind her back and her posture perfectly straight, and yet despite her brave expression, he could see the sadness in her eyes she tried so desperately to hide.

It was in that moment that Orion did something completely off-balance and impulsive. In an instant, he’d barreled back across the beach at the run and, when he reached Carewyn, he threw an arm around her, pulled her in, and kissed her. It was deeper than any of their other kisses had been, with both of them holding onto each other’s back and head and touching each other’s faces as they tried desperately to communicate the depth of their feelings in that tragically short time they were allowed.

That kiss felt like it went on for days...and yet it still wasn’t long enough.

Part of Carewyn wanted to just grab Orion and never let go of him again -- to shield him from anyone and anything who tried to harm him...but she knew she couldn’t hope to protect him from the entire world. And so, very reluctantly, she and Orion separated, and Orion returned to the Artemis. Carewyn watched the pirate ship sail out of sight, her heart full of every prayer she could think of to ensure his safety.

Within two days, Carewyn had been found by a merchant ship, and within the week, she was back in Port Royal. Percy had been beyond relieved to hear of her safe return, though it broke Carewyn’s heart to lie about what had gone down with Bill, Charlie, and Jules. McNully had decided it’d be best if Carewyn claimed that she and the two eldest Weasleys had had a huge falling-out when she’d heard what they’d done (rather like Percy had) and that they’d been the ones to maroon her, rather than Orion. It would give a good explanation about why she was in such good shape, since even if Bill and Charlie were now criminals, they were still “his brothers,” but it would also make them seem rather heartless, to maroon their own brother on some barren island supposedly with no chance of rescue. When Carewyn met Governor Farrier again, however, she refused to say that Bill was holding Jules prisoner, as he’d originally presumed.

“She took the Revenge and rechristened it as her own flagship,” said Carewyn solemnly. “I’m afraid Miss Farrier -- pardon, Juliette Weasley is as much a pirate as my brothers are.”

What she did not add was that she believed that was “not at all.”

In the time Carewyn was gone, Percy had been promoted to Captain of his own ship, the Clearwater. He was incredibly proud of it -- as happy as Carewyn was for Percy, it proved difficult at points for her not to get a little irritated about how much he was puffing his chest out in the new fancier blue and white uniform he’d been given. He also couldn’t stop talking about the man who had “suggested” he be promoted, after meeting him.

“Lord Beckett really has his finger on the pulse of things,” said Percy one day as he walked with Carewyn around the newly repaired wall of the fort together. “He was thoroughly dismayed when he’d heard you’d been captured -- he’d actually wanted to meet you when you first got promoted, he’s heard all about you...”

‘Lucky me,’ Carewyn couldn’t help but think. The memory of Orion telling her about his time on Beckett’s slave ship rippled over her mind again, and it made her feel a bit ill.

“...Said your ingenuity would be a valuable asset. Lord Beckett is a businessman first and foremost, you see, so he tends to see people in regards to how useful they are...”

“‘Useful?’” Carewyn couldn’t help but repeat, raising her eyebrows primly. “Seems like a harsh way to judge people -- I reckon everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses.”

“Well, yes,” acknowledged Percy, “but again, he is a businessman. One has to make calculated risks, in that kind of a position. And his judgements seem rather sound -- he even mentioned having a woman on his payroll, helping him track down pirates.”

He shot Carewyn a rather meaningful look. She could surmise what he was thinking -- if Cutler Beckett allowed women to work for him, perhaps Carewyn could too and not have to hide her gender anymore. Being sure to hide her disgust at the thought of working for the man who had branded Orion a pirate, she gave a light shake of the head.

“As much as I respect the man for his inclusivity...I am a Navy officer, and I take pride in fighting for the crown.”

‘More than I ever would fighting for a private citizen whose moral code seems to be distinctly self-aggrandizing.’

She placed a gentle hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“...And really...what I want first and foremost is to look after my home and my family -- namely, you. I feel a soldier is better equipped to do that than a pirate hunter.”

Percy smiled slightly, clearly touched by her caring, but he tried to stay serious.

“...Well, that’s a noble thought, Carey,” he mumbled, “but I daresay Lord Beckett would be a bit disappointed.”

“Most assuredly.”

Carewyn turned around, startled.

A man only about two inches taller than her had arrived up on the wall of the fort. He wore a white powdered wig under a black velvet tricorn hat and a gold-embroidered vest with his suit, and his face on first glance gave Carewyn the distinct impression that this was a tiny man who fancied himself to be a lot bigger than he actually was. Carewyn herself had always been on the small side, but she made up for it with her confidence, strong moral code, and work ethic -- this man seemed to be the sort to puff himself up through very different means.

“Lord Beckett!” said Percy, startled.

“Captain Percy Weasley, good to see you,” said Beckett in a breezy tone that indicated to Carewyn he didn’t truly believe the sentiment at all. His eyes had fallen on Carewyn, narrowing slightly as he gave a rather stony smile. “Commodore Carey Weasley -- we meet at last.”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my art #percy weasley #my writing #my fanfiction #looks like it's time for some dead man's chest plottage!#again I'm not going to include EVERYTHING from the other pirate films #I'll mostly just steal some ideas from the second and third and sew them together into a second story arc #basically think of this part as the end of act one #drawing kisses is hard #and now I've done three of them in a row!#first bill/jules then duncan/jacob and now carewyn/orion #how oh how will you ever be together my sweet carion...?#first things first let's feed cutler beckett to the kraken #then we can deal with rakepick and that whole deal with davy-jones!finn >>;#also yeah I see all of the other officers wearing gentlemanly shoes and hose with their breeches like norrington and such do in the films #carey however wears black boots not unlike the pirates do #in universe it's because carewyn has very narrow feet that are hard to fit and it's easier to stuff boots than it is gentleman shoes #but meta-wise is this visual short-hand? totally #also tall boots are awesome

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miraculousturtle · 4 years

Text

euphoria

euphoria: (noun) a feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness [until it all crashes down]

[the aftermath of chat blanc]

(ao3)(ff.net)

-----

It haunts him: the dream he can’t remember, the one he can’t quite place. It haunts Adrien in the way he lives his life, but the seconds don’t always add up just right. Kagami blinks, her laughter short and precise, but there’s a glitch in reality when he feels nothing when he sees her smile.

“Adrien? Are you listening?”

His heart hangs heavy, unease a constant friend as he tries to muster up his own grin. “Of course,” he says. He grabs her to assure her. “But can you tell me your story again?”

They are having a study date. Their new relationship is precious and safe, but precarious when life reminds him of glitches, of mistakes, of all the things he can’t name. It itches his brain, forgotten memories, a funny thing that claws his patience.

Kagami narrows her eyes, the sharpness cutting through all nightmares that cling to daylight. Cool hands touch his cheek. “Not sleeping again?”

He places his palm over hers, relishing in the anchoring realization that her fingers fit perfectly between his. “No, no. I’m fine. You’re here and I’m fine.”

He means it.

“I’m happy that we’re able to be together, Adrien. You make me happy.”

He takes her palm and kisses it, his heart fluttering at her bashful smile.

Afternoon sun looks good on her cheeks, flushed and pink like a premature sunset. Adrien counts his blessings, thanks the heavens that their paths have met. Being with Kagami is akin to freedom, to having someone who truly understands him.

Even if, even if--

Adrien feels like he’s suffocating by a gravity that shouldn’t exist.

---

His dream plays on repeat. He falls in love with Ladybug for who she is and she falls in love with him for who he is and everything is perfect. His heart fills to the brim with adoration because she cherishes him more than anything, wants nothing but the best for him. There is no shame in his desperation when he soaks up her love like a drowning man needing air.

Their partnership effortlessly transitions to their civilian lives as he holds her close as they dance. Her every embrace is more precious than gold and her silvery smile paints his heart bold. Their friends are happy for them, her parents adore him, he feels like his world is entrenched in love in all ways. Friendship, family, romantic: all intersect in his beloved heroine.

He tells her he loves her with every breath and she does the same.

And nothing is more perfect, but he never remembers her face or her name.

It’s lunchtime as Marinette strides to the table, her back straight and confident. Her face, however, is red, her fingers trembling as she sits down to Alya. Both Nino and Adrien stop talking, curiosity getting the better of them. She is a paradox of timidness and boldness that seems echoing familiar.

“I--,” Marinette starts, her blue eyes marvelous and bright.

It’s the glitch in reality again, Adrien realizes. Sometimes when he looks at Marinette, she takes his breath away, like the far off dream becomes tangible because she exists. Marinette makes the glitch painful, like a sting that swallows him for wanting to change anything.

Alya gives her friend a patient smile. “What’s up, girl?”

The world pauses for a moment as Marinette loses all former shyness, it slides off her skin and she is born anew with a deep breath. Marinette beams, beautiful and stunning. “I—I told Luka how I felt about him and now—now we’re dating!”

Alya’s jaw drops, “You told a boy you liked him without me poking and prodding you!? What? Are you sure you’re Marinette?!”

Marinette nods, giggling and nervously tucks hair behind her ear. “I did. Just—took that leap, you know. Got out of my head. Like you always tell me to.”

“Way to go, Marinette!” Nino praises. He reaches across the table and pats her shoulder. “Never thought I’d see the day. You know—considering the last boy you liked—ouch!--I mean, you know, since you can be a bit shy around guys.”

Alya’s glare burns, but Adrien feels like he’s missing something when Marinette ducks her head and avoids his eye.

She smiles all the same. “Yeah, I know what you mean, but this time, it’s different. Luka is a nice boy and I like him. I can talk to him...”

Something is pressing on his heart again, the way that Marinette seems at ease. Adrien doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t know why this entire conversation makes him feel like he’s breathing concrete.

“Congratulations, Marinette,” he manages to say.

Her blue eyes fall to him and he feels breathless again.

“Thanks, Adrien.”

---

Sunset is warm over Paris, but deep down, he feels cold.

Knuckles knock on the side of his head. “Hello, Earth to Chat Noir! Are you even paying attention?”

Chat Noir blinks and finds Ladybug’s intense stare studying him too close. It’s the glitch, he tells himself, the dream can’t be real.

“Funny you say that. My girlfriend said the same thing to me recently.”

Ladybug stills for a moment. “Girlfriend?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I asked her out a few weeks ago. For real this time! You know her act--”

Ladybug puts her hand over his mouth and Chat Noir stops breathing. “Don’t tell me who it is! If I know her, then I’ll know her boyfriend too. We can’t know each other’s identities!”

He rolls his eyes, the cold in his bones too much compared to the warmth of her hand. “Yes, yes. I know. You’ve made it very clear.”

Ladybug smiles, but it is wobbly at best. “Not because I don’t want to know you, Chat Noir. There’s no one more precious to me than you.”

Chat sighs and pulls her into a hug. “You think too much, has anyone ever told you that?”

Finally, she laughs. “All the time.”

---

Saturday night is blissful, with city lights being the only stars that they need.

Kagami lets go of his hand, rushing forward to embrace her friend.

“Marinette! I’m so happy to see you!”

Marinette stumbles and peaks over his girlfriend’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Adrien winces and rubs the back of his neck. “She’s a little drunk.”

“A lot drunk! It tastes like juice, Netta. Like juice. There was a whole bowl of it!”

Marinette laughs, her pajamas the same pair he remembers from the last time. “Well, I somehow convinced your mom to let you spend the night at my house so why don’t we get you some water and get you to bed.”

Kagami pulls back and grasps Marinette’s shoulders. “Only if Adrien tucks me in.”

Marinette shoots him a pleading look and Adrien jumps right in. “Of course, Kagami. Anything you’d like.”

Kagami swings and hugs him instead. “Me.”

“Wha--”

Marinette stifles a laugh. “Oh my god, Kagami, I hope you remember this because you’re going to die.”

Marinette pulls his girlfriend by the hand and the three of them walk upstairs quietly trying to not wake up the Dupain-Chengs. Adrien learns quickly that Drunk Kagami is nothing like normal Kagami.

She has zero impulse control. Such as when she tries to engage everyone in an impromptu fencing match wielding a ladle.

“Kagami, no!” Marinette quietly scolds. “We can fence tomorrow. It’s bedtime now.”

Kagami shakes her head. “I don’t want to go to sleep. Not until I see Adrien leave.”

“I thought you wanted me to tuck you in?”

Kagami sighs and twirls the ladle in her hand. “I do, but...”

He reaches forward and stills her hand. In the background, he hears Marinette looking for something.

“What’s wrong, Kagami? You can talk to me.”

Kagami swallows, her drunk eyes glossy. “I know. But Marinette might still like you.”

His heart freezes the exact second Marinette drops something, muttering shit .

Tension rains down in the kitchen for a beat before Marinette clicks her tongue. “I don’t like Adrien anymore, Kagami. Don’t worry. I’m with Luka now. I like Luka.”

There’s the glitch again and the dissonance of this moment strikes Adrien as wrong, wrong, wrong. Nothing about what was just said was right and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he--

Kagami looks soulfully at Marinette and everything is wrong.

“Here, drink some water, Kagami,” Marinette gently says. “I just want you to feel better, okay?”

Kagami nods and takes the glass. “Thanks, Marinette.”

Adrien catches Marinette’s eye and she smiles, soft and sad. “Anything for my friend.”

---

Adrien dreams that night, but everything is wrong.

His love is—dead.

Because of him.

Ladybug is dead because of him.

The world ends because of him.

A distance grows between him and Ladybug, between him and Marinette and no matter how much he tries to forget, Adrien believes his life is in a constant glitch.

In his dream, he kisses his Lady soundly on the mouth as he has done countless times. They are civilians again and they are cuddling in the grass watching clouds go by. This date is like any other, perfect and serene.

“I love you so much. I don’t think you understand.”

She laughs, clear as a bell. “I think I do. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?”

She snuggles into his chest and hums. “Yes. As long as it means you’re happy.”

“I’ve never been happier than I’ve been with you.”

“Good,” his Lady says, but there is a silence that follows as her fingers curl into his shirt.

“But what?”

“But if we’re no longer together, I want you to be happy then too, okay, Adrien? Promise you’ll try to be happy.”

“M--”

“Promise me, Adrien. Be happy. Be free.”

He frowns. “Fine. I promise.”

She kisses over his heart. “Good.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

---

Waking up crashes down on him as his dreams fade away.

Eyes wide open, he stares at the ceiling.

“Ladybug knows.”

---

It haunts him, the glitch. The memories from then till now loop in his head, but remembering two timelines proves difficult as he paces a rooftop in the middle of the night.

“She has to know. She has to know,” he says to himself.

The moon is swollen, a painful doppelganger to his other life. Chat Blanc’s melancholy melody that echoes in his bones.

The yo-yo whirls past him, clinging to a rail for Ladybug to grapple. She swings up with ease, caution in her posture. She’s poised to greet him with friendliness and cheer, but her face pauses with concern.

“Everything okay, Kitty?”

“It’s real, isn’t it? You and me. Us. We were together, weren’t we?”

She stills, the way her eyes refuse to look at him rings loud with silent truth. “Enough to know it was real...but don’t worry, I don’t remember who you were...are, I mean. I don’t know who you actually are. I don’t have memories of it though. Just that...I know that we happened.”

“So you’ve known? How long? When?”

“I’ve known for a while now. Bunnix came and got me to fix the timeline.”

“So, I really destroyed the world.”

“Yes. No. No, Chat. It’s my fault. I destroyed it. I used being Ladybug for my own purposes. I wanted to tell a boy that I liked him, but I used Ladybug to do it.”

“What?”

“I used my powers to sneak around instead of telling him how I felt...”

He can’t breathe. “Does he know? This boy? Did you ever tell him?”

“No. I couldn’t. Because—I made the world end.”

“Ladybug—but that means, Ladybug. How did you make it not end?”

She smiled softly. “I had to erase my name from a present. Pretend it came from someone else. Somehow giving him the present helps us get together.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really figured out the entire timeline of that. But, all I know is that in the other timeline, our love…it caused so much pain. Is it? Are we really worth that?”

“You’re worth anything, Ladybug. Don’t you know that?”

“I’m really not. I’m not worth the world ending. We have...we can’t fall in love, Chat. Don’t you see? Us in love ruins everything.”

“That can’t be true! It can’t be--”

“Chat Noir!” she shouts. “Believe me, I wonder about it too. I wonder what we could have been! Chat Blanc—he was so kind, so true. I wonder what it meant to be in love with him. To somehow have all my dreams come true. But it’s not worth it. Not with everyone’s lives at stake. We can only keep the people safe. That’s our duty. No matter what we want, we are superheros.”

Chat Noir wants to argue, but he deflates. “It’s over, isn’t it? What could have been us?”

Ladybug sighs and cups his cheek. “In this life, we can be happy enough. I don’t need the moon and stars, I just want a chance to be.”

“I feel like we’re breaking up. Is that silly?”

“It seems like that, huh? But we won’t. I can’t lose you, Chat Noir. There’s no one I’d rather have at my side.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

---

Adrien accepts the dreams, accepts the glitch of all things that cannot be.

Moving on from Ladybug is painful, simultaneously in pieces, but whole as they fly through Paris together. There is beauty in their friendship, in their partnership that weathers every storm that Hawkmoth throws their way. He’s lucky enough to know her, to have her back when everything is going wrong.

Moving on from Ladybug is painful, but life becomes more beautiful with Kagami, with Marinette, with Nino and all his friends.

They don’t know it, but they hold his heart up when it wants to collapse again.

Winter finds them with soft snow and hot chocolate to keep them from the cold. Kagami is tucked at his side in a cafe, the glitch a faint memory.

She laces their fingers together and peers up at him with soft, sweet brown eyes. “I love spending time with you.”

He kisses her bangs. “Me too.”

---

Later that night, it smacks him in the face as they try to dodge a rogue akuma. Maybe he’s deluding himself, but he needs to say this out.

“Oh my god, Ladybug! I figured it out!”

“You know where the akuma is?!”

Chat Noir laughs, ducking from a stray missile.“What? No! I figured out why we didn’t work out.”

“...are you kidding me?”

“Listen, listen. I’m being serious here!”

“And I am seriously trying not to get hit!” Thankfully, she uses a trash can lid to deflect a random ball.

“Ladybug, this is our bonding time. We’re gonna be fine.”

She growls and hurls the lid like a frisbee. “Okay, ol’ wise one, why did our love destroy the world?”

“Basically, if my calculations are correct, which they totally are--”

“Uh-huh.”

“Our love was basically an atom bomb from the get go. Plainly speaking, we just loved each other too much and we blew the world to smithereens.”

“Because I loved you too much?” she scoffs.

“You know, if you said that to me a few months ago, I would die of happiness.”

“Chat...”

“Okay, okay. But seriously. That was our problem. We loved too much without substance. While you only heard about us from Chat Blanc, I remember being with you. I would have literally done anything for you. Any-thing.”

She tugs at him and they end up nose to nose, an explosion happening in the background. “And what caused this great revelation?”

“I don’t know...just. My girlfriend, I guess? I like her a lot, but I feel like everything with her is a lot more...possible?”

“...that makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

She rolls her eyes for a moment, then thoughtfully hums.“Yeah. My boyfriend--”

“Boyfriend!? You never told me you had a boyfriend!”

He’s distracted for a moment, until she pushes him down, a stray projectile flying past above them. “Whoops. Sorry. But yeah. My boyfriend. He’s uh. He’s awesome. I feel like I can be myself with him. It’s nice not having to worry about being Ladybug, you know?”

“Yeah. I get that. When I’m not Chat Noir, my life is a lot more strict. My girlfriend gets that and we have a lot of the same interests.”

“Sounds like my friends. Their parents are beyond strict, but thankfully they have each other. I’m glad they ended up together.”

“Ha, is this the mystery guy you tried confessing to, but somehow wound up with me instead?”

Ladybug says nothing, but glares.

“Oh shit. Really?”

“Yeah...I was really in love with him and psyched myself out too much when I was around him. My other friend is better suited for him. I kinda gave up when I realized that. Which is okay! I’m just glad they’re happy. God, being young and in love is hard.”

The moment is a little too real, a bit too close to home to be comfortable.

“You want to know what’s not hard?” He says.

“What?”

“Being with you.”

“Oh my god. You’re going to fall in love again with me if you keep that up.”

He grins, his baton extending to catch an akuma. “Pretty sure that’s my line!”

---

It happens randomly over a weekend, but Kagami breaks up with him. January air is crisp as they walk hand and hand down the street.

“Mom is moving us back to Japan and well—we’re a little too young for long distance, I think.”

Adrien enjoys one more date, enjoys one more embrace.

He kisses her goodbye and he wonders if he would have ended the world for her.

---

Life continues and glitches go unspoken in Adrien’s life.

He spends time with his friends.

There are no more dreams about the timeline that never was.

He feels like his heart is finally moving on.

---

Until it doesn’t.

---

His world almost ends in Spring, the sun particularly scorching high on the rooftops. It is a standoff between Ladybug and Chat Noir against Hawkmoth.

This moment tastes bitter in his mouth, like he’s going to throw up for some reason.

Some taunts are said, some pleas are made, but nothing matters when Hawkmoth makes the first attack. Everything goes wrong when the Hawkmoth’s cane pierces Ladybug’s suit. Her stomach darkens maroon red as her face pales.

The world stops spinning as she falls to her knees and Hawkmoth stumbles back. It is almost as if it took this long for him to realize he’s been battling children.

“I—I didn’t,” the old man stutters, but Chat Noir ignores him as he files to his lady’s side.

He wraps around her and holds her close. “Get out here,” he says clearly. “If she dies, I will kill you.”

Something slides back into place with that declaration, like the glitch that never happened finally makes sense. Adrian would end the world for this girl, no matter what life they happen to live in.

“I’m gonna turn back soon,” Ladybug says. “I don’t want him to see him.”

Chat Noir scoops her up and leaps away, knowing for a fact that Hawkmoth won’t follow.

“Where should we go? Is there somewhere safe?”

Ladybug grunts for a moment. “Marinette’s room. The one above the bakery.

His fingers grip into her skin, just something to hold on. “She’ll help us?”

Ladybug sighs. “No, she won’t.”

He lands quietly on the rooftop, unsure why they’re here then.

Ladybug touches his face, her thumb smooth across his cheek. “Because I’m Marinette and I’m going to need you to help me, Adrian.”

---

Ladybug’s suit sparkles away and he’s left breathless.

The glitch comes back to stay.

---

It all happens so fast. The memories of before, Marinette’s face in center view. Getting Marinette’s parents to take her to the hospital. Their first kiss. The doctor performed a quick surgery. That last day.

Even no longer wearing the suit, Adrien can still feel her blood on his hands.

The hospital chairs are uncomfortable, but everyone sags with relief when the doctor says Marinette is in the clear. Her parents see her first, then Alya and Nino, and then finally, there’s a push at his shoulder.

He blinks and Nino nods to the door. “Marinette’s asking for you. You should go see her.”

Adrien walks to the door, every moment too surreal as his heart hammers in his chest. She sees him and smiles and gestures for him to sit.

“You know,” is the first thing he says.

“I know.”

He doesn’t have to ask for how long or how much because the brittle smile Marinette gives him is more than an answer enough. The room doesn’t have enough air in it and Adrien isn’t quite sure who is more fragile between the two of them.

He swallows, his mouth dry. “Where’s Luka?”

She gasps, and twiddles his fingers. “It’s too confusing to be with him...with all the memories. I’m sorry I didn’t understand before. To know and not know. It’s--”

“...agony,” he offers, his heart guarded.

She nods, her eyes a little teary. “I should have told you the truth sooner. I thought this was for the best.”

Adrian laughs and leans forward, dares himself to take her hand. “You need to stop thinking that you know what’s best for me. You always do that.”

“It’s because I--” her words die in her mouth, her fingers curling around his in panic.

He smiles and kisses her knuckles. “I know. Me too.”

He is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “This time, we can take it slow. We already know what happens when we rush in. This is our timeline now. There’s no glitch here.”

And it is then, when Marinette looks at him, the sun is setting across Paris, that he finally understands love is less than euphoric and something more calm and consistent.

“I’d like that.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #adriennette #chat blanc episode #fanfic #drabble

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Sky and Sea

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Kairi, Sora

Hi, everyone! A bit late, but here’s another story for SoKai Week Day 5, for the prompt “Sky and Sea”! I hope you guys enjoy it ^u^

Kairi’s eyes were closed as she stood upon the small circular island protrusion jutting out into the sea, listening to the gentle washing of the waves against the land’s edge. The frothy white seafoam splashed onto the toes of her shoes as the water crashed up against the earth. It made the scent of salt and seaweed waft up into her nose. She inhaled the familiar scent with a small smile; it was a modest perfume, even unfavorable to some, but to Kairi, it was the aroma of home. The serene expression on her face gradually brightened as she basked in the sounds of Destiny Islands- the sounds of home.

The gentle crunch of shoes on sand tore her attention away from her contemplative appreciation, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Sora making his way over from the clubhouse. He smiled happily when he glanced up and noticed her watching his approach. He trotted across the wooden bridge that joined the little circle of land to the main island, then hopped over the curving palm tree to join her at the edge of the island.

“Hey, Kairi. Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, just enjoying myself,” she answered with a dreamy smile at the horizon. Her eyes beheld the line of forever marking the junction of sky and sea, sapphire to robin’s egg blue. “It’s funny how little you appreciate things until they’re taken from you,” she remarked with a small hum. Indeed, Sora and Kairi didn’t realize how much they had meant to one another until they were literally ripped apart and had to journey across dozens of worlds to find their way back to one another. “I just wanted to take a moment to commit this to memory,” she sighed, gazing at the beautiful sea through lidded eyes. “I don’t ever want to forget.”

“Yeah,” Sora smiled agreeably and reclined against the sand-blasted trunk of the palm tree, resting his hands behind his head. His blue eyes searched the horizon, and a little twinkle that appeared in the sky-colored irises indicated to Kairi that he’d found whatever it was. The edges of his smile lowered a little and his gaze drooped down to his feet. “Yeah… Forgetting is painful.”

Kairi crooned soothingly and walked over to lay her hand on Sora’s shoulder. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Kairi had neglected to recall the fact that Sora’s memory had literally been wiped at one point in time. The boy, persistently optimistic, shot her a smile when she squeezed his shoulder.

“Ah, I’m okay. I remember now, so that’s what matters, right?”

“Yeah!” Kairi giggled with a nod. Sora’s smile widened to flash perfect white teeth at her. Kairi had always loved Sora’s smile; it was like the sun, bright and blazing. It could illuminate even the darkest of rooms, and never failed to send sadness and doubt fleeing into the dark recesses of her mind, too scared to face against his boundless cheerfulness. Kairi hopped up onto the curved stem of the palm tree, her calves brushing against the meat of Sora’s left arm. “Yeah, that’s what matters,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

Kairi hummed contentedly as she swung her feet lightly, banging her heels against the sturdy trunk. The seascape shimmered like thousands of diamonds as the sunlight struck the transparent surface to scatter white globes of light across the continually shifting waves. Above the horizon line, white clouds moseyed lazily through the endless blue like ships sailing on to various destinations. The sun burned a bright yellow circle in the sky, streaming rays of light like arrows to warm their skin. Kairi rolled her shoulders as the sunbeams struck them and spread a soothing warmth over her person. It was remarkable, she thought at that moment, how different yet alike the sky and the sea were.

Kairi reached out into the air with a smile, splaying her fingers out over the space that joined the two blue expanses. Sora regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“I was just thinking,” she mused with a grin, “that you and I are like the sky and the sea.” Sora blinked and looked at the horizon, then back to her with a puzzled expression. Kairi giggled and spread her arms upward. “Sora, you’re like the sky! Bright and open and clear… Sometimes the weather changes to get stormy and uncertain, but no matter what, it always returns to the beautiful blue expanse- just like you, always optimistic even after the worst of times.” Sora’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, and he laughed bashfully, playing with the spiky hairs at the base of his neck.

“Wow, Kairi, thanks,” he stammered shyly. Kairi giggled at his adorable reaction and pointed at the sea.

“So that makes me the sea… It takes the brilliance of the sky and reflects it, kinda like how you inspire me to be greater every day.” With eyes as wide as blue moons, Sora whispered her name in awe. Kairi giggled and tapped her cheek with the pad of her index finger mirthfully. “But, I’m amazing on my own, too! I’m tenacious!” she grinned and balled up her fists tightly as a show of resolution. “No matter what, I’m gonna keep beating at the shore until I move mountains!”

“Hehe, yeah, that does sound like you,” Sora agreed with a laugh. Kairi pouted at him, thinking that perhaps he was teasing her, but he was grinning amiably at her. His absolute confidence in her sent a warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling up in her chest. The brown-haired boy glanced back at the horizon and smirking knowingly. “Yeah, I agree. You and I are kinda like the sky and sea,” he agreed with a nod. “Especially because we’re always connected.”

“Huh?” she blinked. Sora pointed at the horizon line, the smudge of gray where the glittering sea gave way to smooth light blue. “No matter how far you go in either direction, you can always trace back to the horizon. Just like us!” His blue eyes gleamed at her when he glanced over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “I’m always connected to you, Kairi, no matter how far apart we are.” She flushed as he turned around to grasp both her hands tightly, thumbs caressing the tops of them with gentle touches. She fluttered her red eyelashes at him bashfully as he smiled radiantly. “No matter what, I’ll always meet you at the horizon,” he solemnly promised.

“Oh, Sora,” Kairi sniffed with tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. Chuckling, Sora nudged her knees apart with his hips so that he could step between them and reach up to cup her cheeks. His thumbs made those soft sweeping motions again, this time to catch her tears and wipe them away. Kairi leaned into his touch; though his hands had grown callous from his extended time wielding the Keyblade, his hands were still incredibly gentle. “Thank you… I’ll always come to meet you.”

“I know,” he smiled sweetly. “That’s what makes me strong. No matter how far away I go, I can keep moving forward knowing that you’re at my side, Kairi.” The auburn-haired girl smiled lovingly and nuzzled her cheek into one of his broad palms.

“Well, I hope that it’ll be a while before you have to go marching off again,” she joked. Sora smirked and shrugged slightly.

“Well, y’know, bein’ a Hero of Light and all is a pretty demanding job,” he jested with a playful roll of his eyes. Kairi snorted and kicked him in the thigh with the toe of her shoe, making him jerk to the side and whine indignantly. “I’m kiddiiiiiing! I hope so, too,” he laughed. His smile then softened, and he pushed a swathe of her dark red hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. His eyes went searching again across the planes of her gradually blushing face, but Kairi had no clue what for. His gaze finally settled into her eyes, growing lidded as he stared adoringly into the vibrant depths. “I hope so too, Kairi,” he repeated in a husky voice full of feeling. Kairi instinctively inhaled, feeling a strange emotion blooming within the depths of her being. It intensified as Sora’s gaze slowly trailed down to rest on her slightly parted baby-pink lips. “Kairi… Can I…” He didn’t finish the question, but Kairi knew very well what he was asking.

“Please,” she implored in a breathy whisper. Still staring intently at her lips, Sora slowly closed the distance between them. Their eyes drifted shut simultaneously at the first brushing of his mouth against hers. As his lips molded over hers in an impeccably sweet, chaste kiss, Kairi’s hands ran up his arms to settle on his shoulders. Sora’s hands tentatively found purchase on her waist, holding her steady as she became lost in the constant waves of his gentle kisses.

Kairi’s eyes fluttered open when he retreated and found his bright blue eyes tenderly beholding her face. The girl blushed slightly and fidgeted, not used to such overt affection. Sora chuckled at her sudden shyness and stroked her cheek with his knuckles, following the line of her cheekbone before pushing his fingers into her auburn locks.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Kairi. You’ve helped me more than you can imagine.” Kairi smiled coyly and leaned her face into his palm, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Of course. I’ll always be there for you, Sora.”

After a few minutes of just staring earnestly into each other’s eyes, Sora hopped up onto the sloped palm tree beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into his side and rested her cheek against his shoulder, smiling warmly as his comforting presence washed over her. Sora grasped her hand and interlaced their fingers, then, with a sly smirk, brought her hand to his mouth to press a lingering kiss to the top of her hand. She blushed at the smooth gesture and buried her brightening face into the fabric of his sleeve. She shook as Sora’s shoulder jumped up and down with merry laughter.

Kairi finally calmed down enough to peer out at the glittering horizon. Together, the two teenagers linked by fate and destiny admired the eternally joined blues of the sky and sea.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @sokaiweek

#sokai #sora x kairi #kairi x sora #kairi #sora #kingdom hearts #kh sora #kh kairi #kh fanfic #kh fanfiction

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