#this is me kicking the can down the street you're welcome and thanks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sentientcave · 27 days

Text

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Sometimes a Bearimy is many moons, and sometimes it's just a couple days! Do not expect this sort of pace to continue though this chapter was most of the way finished when I posted the first one.

Chapter 2 - Familiar and Forgotten

< Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Noncon kissing, Alcohol mentions, Smoking mention, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through.

~5.2k words

You don’t say much for the rest of the journey.

It’s not far, really, only an hour or two from the bridge in the woods, and your anxiety seizes you so completely that you can do little more than smile wanly at Kyle’s jokes and Johnny’s attempts to flirt with you. Ghost stays as quiet as you do, a comforting spectre of familiarity walking by your side.

The city is much like you remember it, but there’s life now, where a grim shadow hung over the people before. Windows are thrown open, laundry hangs on lines spanning between houses, brightly coloured clothes flapping in the breeze like flags. Children play in one of the alley’s you pass by, kicking a ball between them, although they stop to watch you pass, eyes growing big, collecting at the edge of the street so they can stare for longer. People begin to gather at the peripheries everywhere, the gentle roar of many hushed voices drowning out all else. It seems that the people here still recognize you, although you’re not sure if it’s by your face or the company that escorts you along.

The castle looms over the city, tall, imposing walls made a little friendlier with blue and silver banners hung from the parapets, the oppressive air lessened, but not entirely erased. You think that nothing could make the castle look truly welcoming— It never has been to you, not even when you did call it home.

Ghost looks at you as you approach the dark stone walls, and puts a big hand on your thigh. “Olright?” he asks quietly.

You nod, swallowing thickly as Nox’s claws scrape over the wooden drawbridge. It feels like the palace means to devour you whole, the shade of the main courtyard matching your somber mood. It’s greener than you remember, a raised garden bed full of flowers and a few small trees sits in the center of things now, directing traffic coming in around in a circle rather than every which way. There are gardens on the flat roofs of some of the outbuildings too, where they can catch more light despite the looming walls.

Nox stops in front of the stairs up to the main door, and Ghost lifts you down easily. When you look up, you notice there are people gathering around the main courtyard too, a gentle susurrus rising up around you like the wind. A stable hand approaches to take Kyle's horse, stumbling over his feet, too busy staring at you to watch where he's going.

"Standin' around with their gobs open," Johnny grumbles. "S'like they've ne'er seen a princess before."

Kyle thanks the stable hand when he passes the reigns to him, and offers his arm to you. "Are you ready, sweetpea?" His smile strains at the corners when you look at him. Your own face must be grim indeed.

"I'll have to be," you say, curling your hand around his arm, gathering your skirts with your other hand. You feel small and plain as you ascend on Kyle's arm, dressed simply in clothes you sewed yourself, glad you were wearing your second best skirt at least. Why that bothers you now you couldn't say-- Its not as though you're concerned with making a good impression.

Kyle leads you into the hall of judgment, where your father used to take petitions and settle disputes. It's different here too-- There are benches for supplicants to sit while they wait, and a few desks set to one side of the ante chamber, where clerks speak to citizens in hushed voices, helping speed along the process. There aren't very many people there really, it's not the tired crush of hollow eyed people clamoring for attention from a disinterested king now. Its organized, efficient, fair-minded. You can't help but approve.

John Price sits on the dais, listening to the man in front of him, but his stone-faced attention breaks when he looks up and sees you. He stands and hops down the steps, touching the man's arm. "I will send a hunting party to deal with your manticore problem," he promises. "But if you'll excuse me…" his blue eyes lock onto you, sweeping down and back up to your face.

You feel pinned in place by the intensity of those eyes, Kyle's presence by your side not enough to melt the cracking ice that settles around you.

"Princess!" John greets you enthusiastically, arms wide as he strides across the hall, meeting you in the middle. "Welcome home. I trust your journey was a pleasant one? It's a nice day for a ride through the countryside." He looks good, although there's silver in his beard and glittering by his temples that was never there before, and a plain silver circlet on his brow. He dresses the same as you remember, for comfort and practicality rather than for fashion, and he still fills out his clothes in much the same way, his broad, powerful body unchanged despite his new vocation.

"A better day for tending to the garden," you say. "But Sir Garrick rather insisted on the ride."

John smiles at you warmly, and Kyle wordlessly pulls away from you, leaving you standing before John alone. You're pulled into an embrace before you know what's happening, oak-solid arms crushing you to his chest. He pulls back enough to look at you, but he doesn't let you go. The pleasant tobacco and warm spice scent of him engulfs you, caged in his arms while he studies your upturned face. "You're more beautiful than I remember," he says. "It's good to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but he seizes the opportunity to kiss you. Not a chaste press of lips to your cheeks, which would have been an appropriate greeting between two people of your status, but a kiss, a real one, his mouth slotting over yours like you were reuniting lovers rather than near-perfect strangers.

He kisses you for a long moment, lips moving against yours possessively, long enough for the room to grow unbearably silent around you, shame twisting with a childish flame rekindled the instant he put his hands on you. You push against his chest, and he finally comes to his senses, not releasing you or giving you more space, but at least ending the kiss, letting you breathe and sort out your conflicted feelings.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, voice low and breathless, even if you would prefer to shout it, or perhaps punctuate the question with a slap.

“Because I wanted to,” he says pleasantly, smiling in that infuriating, cheeky way he used to when he caught you watching the knights practising from the palace windows. “I think it was long overdue, don’t you?”

“No!” You don’t want to admit, considering your age, that he’s stolen your first kiss, like it was something owed to him instead of yours to give when you chose to, and you certainly don’t want to admit that you liked it. You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the people still watching either, which is undoubtedly why he chose this as the place for your first meeting, where you would be cuffed by propriety, giving him advantage over you. Kings didn’t have to worry about propriety— Who was there to scold them for bad behaviour?

Had John ever worried about that sort of thing? Perhaps that was why your father had so militantly kept him away from you, not because of the threat to the crown, but the threat to your virtue. A man that would so casually waltz past all social convention would find no resistance from a sheltered, shy princess. Perhaps if you had been more bold— Perhaps if you were more bold now you would be able to tell him off.

“I don’t appreciate being plucked from my home and manhandled by you and your knights,” you hiss, plucking courage from thin air. You push against his chest again, and this time he lets you go, but it only makes you angrier, because you both know he only did so because he chose to. “What do you want, John? Let’s attend to business so I can leave as soon as possible.”

He glances behind you, at his knights, an eyebrow raised. “Well, you certainly aren’t going anywhere tonight, are you? We can chat properly over the evening meal.” He sweeps you along, a hand between your shoulders, where his thumb touches bare skin, toying with the edge of your shirt. “I’ll show you to your room, hm? You can wash up and change, if you’d like. Although I must say, this country mouse attire looks rather sweet on you.”

“I don’t think any of my old clothes will fit anymore,” you say tartly. You’re certainly not the weak, spindly thing you used to be, the sapling struggling to grow in your father’s shadow. Your time with Kate has done you good, made you stronger and filled out soft curves. Joy is expansive, and it takes up space that you never would have dared to occupy before.

“Of course not,” he says. “I’ve had new things made for you. Gaz’s sister reached out to Kate for your measurements.”

“Why would she— You had no right to ask for such a thing!” you say hotly. Now that you’re alone in the hallways, you feel more at ease speaking your mind.

He’s unperturbed by your anger, still smiling. “Perhaps not. But I thought it important to stand ready, should you ever decide to come home.”

“This is not my home any longer.”

John hums, his hand sliding down to your hip, tugging you closer to his side. “This will always be your home, princess,” he says matter-of-factly, like there’s no room for argument, the way he sees it.

He tries to follow you into your room, but you quickly shut the door in his face, nearly hitting him. He manages to jump clear, and you can hear his laughter on the other side. You’re getting a bit tired of these men thinking that it’s funny when you hold your ground against them, but you’re not yet sure how to get them to listen when they (and especially John) are so used to getting exactly what they want. It strikes you that you’ll probably have plenty of time to figure it out, since you don’t think you’ll be going home as soon as you'd like.

Kyle and Johnny seem like your most likely allies. And perhaps Ghost, since he told you more than he was supposed to already. Anyone else would be too worried about drawing the king’s ire and getting in trouble or losing their jobs, but those three aren’t just his knights. They’re his friends too.

And as far as you’re concerned, friends don’t let friends keep women imprisoned for indeterminate amounts of time.

You wash up, and parse through the closet for something to wear, frowning slightly at your options. There’s nothing wrong with any of the dresses you find— Everything is beautiful, elegant, well-made, in colours that suit your complexion, made of gorgeous, rustling silk. But they also all have closures at the back, long rows of delicate buttons that will be a nightmare to do up yourself. After so many years living independently, you resent the idea of someone having to help dress you. Perhaps that was why John tried to follow you, so he could be there to offer a hand.

How altruistic of him.

You fantasize about kicking him hard in the shins with the work boots that you sadly left at home, and choose a dress in a deep plum colour, getting as dressed as you can. You consider waiting to ask whoever comes to collect you for dinner, but you suspect that that might be John. You’re just about to wander out into the hallway to see if you can find a member of the castle staff to aid you, when you hear a shout outside, and laughter.

You press one hand to you chest to keep the dress from falling away from your skin inappropriately, and peer over the edge of the balcony. Johnny, Kyle and Ghost are in the courtyard below, Ghost and Kyle sitting on the fountain edge, and Johnny doing a dance that seems to be entirely hopping and kicking, while balancing a knife’s point on the tip of his finger.

“Excuse me,” you call down, smiling as prettily as you can muster. Johnny stops dancing and drops his knife entirely, but blessedly doesn’t try to catch it. “Could one of you give me a quick hand? This dress has so many buttons.”

They look at each other for a moment, and volunteer as one, Kyle and Ghost immediately falling into bickering over who should help you. Johnny looks at the ground and up to you a few times rather than fight with the others, and takes a running leap, fingers catching on the balcony floor. He swings a few times before popping up, catching the railing and clambering over with surprising grace. “I would be happy to help ye, sweetpea. An’ Ah’m sorry abou’, er, lickin’ yer wrist earlier. Was a wolf awl mornin’, cannae always shake the compulsion straight after a shift.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, reaching up with both hands and scratching the stubble under his chin gently. He leans into your palms with a groan, letting you guide him down to your level so you can kiss the tip of his nose. “I know you’re a good boy, Johnny. You were just excited.”

“I was,” he admits, cheeks turning a little pink. “They awl met ye before, and they talk about ye sometimes, ye ken? An’ yer even nicer an’ bonnier up close. Ah’m glad I didna try to lick yer face. Ye didnae look very happy with Price doin’ it.”

“He was very forward. It’s not the sort of thing I appreciate. I don’t intend to let him walk all over me just because he’s the king now.” You release Johnny’s jaw and turn so he can get to work on the buttons, pulling your braids out of the way over your shoulder. “It seems like he’s a little too used to getting his way.”

“Ah, weel, he’s stubborn as awl hell, sweetpea. No’ really his fault, he’s just righ’ more of’en than no’, ye ken? An’ when yer never wrong, ye never learn ta compromise.”

“Surely he’s not always right,” you say. “No one’s infallible.”

He laughs, fingers stalling against your back. “Yer righ’ of course. But Ah’m never the one to catch the old man bein’ wrong. So I dinnae ken if he admits it. I would be surprised.”

“Do you know what he wants from me?” you ask. “It seems odd that he let me live in peace all these years, only to drag me back now.”

“I dinnae ken awl the details, princess. Figure it’s sommat ta do with yer cousin raisin’ an army over across the western border, aye? Probably wants ye to scold the wee rascal for him.” He continues buttoning, and then stalls again. “Aw shite. Missed one.” You feel him begin to undo the buttons he was just working on.

You press your fingers to your mouth to stifle a giggle. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Shouldn’t be asking so many questions.”

“Aw no, I dinnae mind none. S’nice ta talk ta ye. Always thought princesses’d be all stuck up and snooty. But yer no’ at awl. Ahve been ta yer story hour at the market once or twice too. Think it’s nice ye take pity on us buggers that cannae read well. An ye choose good stories.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you say.

“Usually go in on four legs. No one minds another mangy dog, so long as I don’t get too close or growl at the bairns. Can hear better tha’ way too, aye? Blacksmith always let me lay down beside his shop.” He marches two fingers across your shoulder playfully. “Awl done.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” You turn to look at him again, regarding him thoughtfully. It doesn’t take much to turn him from a large, dangerous man to an eager to please puppy. Something to tuck into your pocket for later.

“Ye can call me Soap, if ye like. The lads do, most of the time. An’ the boss man. But Johnny is good too. Like hearin’ it from ye.” He looks a bit bashful, twisting his fingers together absently now that he has nothing else to fuss with, bright blue eyes cast down and half hidden by his long, dark lashes. “Ah ken it’s no’ what yer hopin’ for, but I hope ye stay a while. S’nice. Feels like there’s an empty space around here, and ye’d fill it an’ then some.”

“I’ll think about it,” you say. “I’m sure it mostly depends on how angry your, um, boss man makes me.”

“He’s no’ a bad sort.” Johnny instantly leaps to John’s defense, a touch of anxiety colouring his voice. He wears every emotion on his sleeve, another useful something to know. “Been good ta me, when lot’s of folk think I’m no’ much more’n a monster.”

“I’ve never heard of a werewolf that can shift at will like you do,” you muse. “You must have remarkable self control.”

Something dark flits across his face, but he does his best to hide it behind his crooked grin. “Naw, no’ really. S’a story, but no’ one I want ta tell righ’ now.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him gently, placing your hand on top of his. His knuckles are rough, scarred from a lifetime of hitting things hard. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I’ll listen, if you do want to talk.”

“Yer goan ta turn me intae a big softie at this rate,” he says, waving off your words with a laugh. “Come oan, Sweetpea. I’ll walk ye ta dinner. Figure ye know the way, but Ah’m told it’s polite to escort a lady.”

“Very polite,” you assure him, placing your hand on his offered arm. “Thank you, Johnny.”

His grin is infectious, and he puffs up his chest slightly, pleased as punch to receive your approval. You descend the stairs, picking up your skirts with your other hand so they don’t drag, and John appears at the bottom of the steps, his expression turning carefully, diplomatically blank when he sees you on Johnny’s arm.

“Perfect timing,” he says. “I was just about to come get you. Thank you, Soap, I can take her from here.”

“How very kind!” you return, gripping a little tighter to Johnny’s arm so he doesn’t run off just yet. “Johnny was nice enough to help me with my dress. All these buttons— I had no idea that button closures were the style these days.”

John’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit, like he’s not sure if you’re being earnest or not. “Nor did I,” he says evenly. Liar.

“It can be so hard to keep track of these things.” You send Johnny another bright smile. “Will you be joining us?” you ask sweetly.

Johnny looks at John uneasily. “Oh, n-no, I dinnae think—”

You curl into him slightly, placing your hand on his chest, drawing his attention back to you and away from the disapproving frown that’s beginning to form on John’s face. “Oh, nonsense. In fact, would you mind fetching Kyle and Ghost as well? We all had such a pleasant afternoon, and I feel like we’ve only just begun catching up.”

Johnny’s fingers catch on the lace hemming your trailing sleeve, his cheeks pink and eyes focused on your face. “Oh, aye, anything ye like, princess.”

“Thank you so much Johnny. You have been so helpful today. I really appreciate it.” You release him, and he dashes off without a second thought or glance to John for approval. “What a sweet boy he is,” you say to John as you flit to his side, all innocence, well aware that Johnny can still hear you. “Shall we?”

John gives you a searching look, still not certain if you’ve disrupted his plans on purpose or just by being far too sweet. “I had intended for dinner to be just the two of us.”

“Now John, that would hardly be appropriate,” you lightly scold. “The two of us, alone without a chaperone? What would people say? If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to put me in a compromising position.”

His lips twitch under his moustache, the ghost of a smile appearing in his eyes. “Perish the thought. Didn’t think of the implication, is all.” He opens the door to what had once been your father’s private dining room, but hesitates in the doorway. “Perhaps we should wait for the lads,” he says thoughtfully. “Since you’re concerned with the optics of being alone with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. “They’ll be along in a moment, no? I’m not sure what you think could happen in a few minutes, but I’m sure you’re capable of behaving yourself for that long.” You sweep past him, unconcerned, and he follows, letting the door fall shut behind him, the latch clicking shut loudly in the otherwise silent room. You cast about for a conversation that you can fling up between the two of you like a flimsy shield, your tongue suddenly heavy again. John has a way of sucking up all the air in a room, and he feels nearly as large and imposing as Ghost in a confined space like this. You don’t feel safe like you would with Ghost. You feel like a wobbly-legged fawn caged in with a blue-eyed wolf.

And you would feel less like that if you were in here with the man who really is a blue-eyed wolf. You don’t think the man standing before you will melt with a few kind words or a soft touch. He’ll only take it as permission to push you further.

“Your inexperience is showing,” John says conversationally, taking a step toward you.

You take a hasty step back. “How so?”

He takes another step forward. You take another back. The pattern repeats until he has you backed up against the mantle. “A lot can happen in just a few minutes, sweetpea.” His thick fingers curl around your jaw, forcing you to face him when all you want to do is sink into the floor or vanish entirely. “Could do anything I liked to you, alone like this. You’re right to be cautious.” His hand slides lower, callouses brushing your skin, raising goosebumps along the back of your neck and prickling all the way down your spine. His palm rests on your throat, so he can measure the nervous flutter of your pulse. You swallow nervously, and you know he can feel it.

Still, he doesn’t squeeze, and there’s no threat in his eyes. Worse, there’s a promise, and heat that could spark into a blaze with the slightest provocation.

“It’s a good thing you’re a man of honour, then.” You mean it as a challenge, a reminder of the rules of engagement. You came prepared for a game of chess, and he’s knocked all the pieces onto the floor and lunged at you across the board. Your words come out whisper soft, plaintive instead of confident.

“A good thing indeed.” He takes a step back, and then another, his hand falling away, leaving you standing by the mantle, clinging to it for support.

It was a good thing the fireplace is cold, this time of year, or you might be tempted to throw yourself in just to save yourself the embarrassment of being so completely set off balance.

“Here.” John returns to your side, this time leaving enough space for you to breathe, and offers you a glass of wine. White wine, like he remembers your preferences somehow. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, and you try not to shake from the force of whatever it is that he stirs up in you.

It’s too vast to identify, and threatens to engulf you, swallow you whole. It’s an ocean, as deep and blue as his eyes, and you’re already struggling to stay afloat. You feel like the only things keeping you from drowning are your righteous anger and sense of self-preservation. But recognizing the danger he poses to you, to your freedom, if not your life, doesn’t pluck you from the water or save you from the circling shark. You don’t know how to do that. You’re not sure if you want to.

“I should apologize,” he says gently. “For greeting you the way I did earlier. I’d dreamt of our reunion so many times that it felt like the most natural thing in the world, kissing you like that. I should have better kept myself in check.”

You sip your wine. It’s sharp and not too sweet, just the sort of thing you used to like, and many times better than what you’ve had for years now. But the taste only reminds you of things best left forgotten, sour remnants of a life you wished to leave behind. Even this room, redecorated to another man’s preferences, feels as oppressive as your father’s presence in life.

Maybe it’s the weight of the crown, that bends and twists even the most upright men, because you already see the makings of a tyrant in John. So used to getting his way already, he expects you to fall into line, do as your told, take your rightful place at his side, on his arm.

In his bed.

“Are you going to?” you ask.

He’s confused by that, a frown settling between his brows. “Going to what, sweetpea?”

“Apologize. Saying you should apologize is not the same as actually being sorry.”

He’s entirely taken aback by that, rendered speechless. It’s probably been years since anyone checked him like that, and it sends a bit of a thrill through you to be the one to do so. He has the advantage in this battle you’ve waged against him— He’s larger and stronger, he claims authority that you’ve rejected, he has allies where you have none— but you’ve still managed to strike a blow, with honesty as your only weapon.

The other three men finally join you, snapping the tension in the room, clearing it away like cobwebs.

Well, most of the tension, anyway. You sit between John and Ghost, rather than take the chair opposite John. You have no desire to be forced to bear that heavy stare for the entire meal. Kyle and Johnny sit opposite you, and you maintain light conversation with the two of them. Ghost sits to your right, his mask tipped up enough for him to eat, his scarred mouth and jaw visible to you for the first time. His gloves are off too, revealing broad, powerful hands littered with fine scars, and a few deep ones too. Most of them are obviously blade wounds, but there’s a particularly deep one, a chunk of missing flesh between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand that keeps drawing your eyes back.

“Me’n Nox ‘ad a misunderstandin’ when we first met,” he says, unprompted, noticing your glances. “She took a chunk outta me. Was a good thing she was still small, or I’d’ve lost my whole ‘and.”

“Small!” Johnny says with a snort. “The wee beastie was bigger than me!”

“You were a runt,” Ghost chuckles, “but I s’pose she was still plenty big. Got ‘er talons sunk pretty deep in my thigh too. Got ‘er to listen to reason in the end though. She din’t know I was tryin’ to ‘elp.”

You see that same darkness in Johnny’s eyes as earlier, so you change the subject, asking about a burn on Ghost’s wrist. He starts in on a tale of hunting an outlaw mage, with plenty of interjections from Kyle, and then Johnny as well, until he gives up trying to tell it, and lets the younger men take over.

You feel his attention on you for a while after that, like he knew what you did and why.

John is pensive, still ruminating on what you said, quiet over the meal. It must not be that great a change from usual, because it doesn’t seem to bother the other three in the least. He insists on walking you to your room once the hour grows later, however, and leans against your door frame.

“You’re right,” he says, catching your hand so you can’t go inside and shut the door in his face for a second time that day. “I didn’t apologize. And I’m not sorry. I know I should be, and I won’t do it again, but I can’t say I feel all that badly about it.”

It’s something, at least. A concession, if not an apology. “Thank you, John.” He doesn’t let go of your hand, and his thumb is rubbing distracting circles over your knuckles. “Is there something else?”

“We never talked business.”

“No. But I know what you want, John, and the answer is no. I want to go home, I have a life to return to, and I don’t belong here any longer.” The disappointment is clear on his face, but he only nods. You continue, encouraged by his silence. “I will, however, make a public statement of support, in whatever way you need. I imagine my cousin will wish to send a witness, to ensure I’m not being coerced. I will stay until then, and then you will allow me to go home. Is that sufficient?”

He thinks about it for a moment, his thumb tapping against your hand now. “I suppose it will have to be.”

“Then it’s settled. Goodnight, John.” You try to pull your hand free, but he tightens his grip just enough to keep you anchored to him.

“Wait.” He tugs you a step closer. “May I kiss you?”

You roll his request around in your mind for a moment. He’s willing to accept that you won’t marry him, without so much as a fight. You can’t deny that you want to say yes either, and you have just enough wine in you to make you bold, but not reckless. “One kiss,” you reply. “No more than that. And then I am going to bed.”

He cups your face and stoops to meet you, pressing his lips to yours tenderly, without any of the brash possessiveness of earlier. Just sweet and slow, coaxing you to open up for him. You relax into his touch, parting your lips, a soft little whine escaping your throat, pulling an answering groan from him as he licks into your mouth. You have to grip his wrists just to stay upright, the sound turns your knees and resolve to jelly, the taste of good whiskey and smoke from his after dinner cigar lingering on your tongue as he pulls away.

His eyes are fever-bright, and his breathing ragged as you release each other. “Goodnight, sweetpea,” he says softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You slip into your room and lean against the door, knees still weak, desire simmering inside you. The kiss had been a bad idea, because all you can think of now is asking for another, and another, and another.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Divider by CafeKitsune

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem reader #141 x reader #heavy weighs the crown #Uh oh sweetpea

89 notes · View notes

lottesreads · 3 months

Text

Why Me? - Part 8

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, flashbacks, abuse, blood, violence, getting kicked out, forbidden relationship, swearing, pining

Word Count: 10k (i'm so sorry)

Summary: An insight to the past has you remembering just how hurt you were. You're still refusing to talk to your dad, and he isn't quite sure how to get you to open up. Even after a meeting with Cyclone, you're reminded you still have an entire team ready to back you up. Rooster is ready to apologize and welcome you back, but are you? (Also, can dogfight football really fix everything?)

A/N: Wow, I really didn't mean for it to get this long but here we are. But also I did procrastinate my homework to do this, and I don't regret it. I hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs literally make me cry tears of joy, happy reading!

Masterlist

10 years ago

Driving your beat up Toyota Corolla down the streets to your mom’s extravagant home was nothing new to you. The anticipatory anxiety wasn’t new either. You had memorized your mom’s work schedule to know when she would or wouldn’t be home when you got back from school, but lately it’s been a little erratic. Almost as much as she was. So was the real estate market you supposed.

You sigh in relief when you don’t see her car in the driveway. In these moments you thanked her husband for owning three cars and parking them all in the garage. You, of course, get to park on the street, which added a couple extra dents to your car that weren’t there before, but you weren’t one to complain. Disappointed maybe, that your pride and joy you spent your summers working at the local smoothie joint to afford, was a little more rough around the edges than when you purchased it.

You check the mailbox at the curb before going in. Of course it was empty. It became a habit ever since you applied to USNA to check the mailbox daily, hopefully to intercept the good or bad news before anyone else could see it.

The house is quiet as you enter, all three of your step-siblings must be with their mom. And Bret, your step-dad, doesn’t get home until after 5:00 most days, leaving you to your own devices. Even if you wanted to do something fun with the house to yourself, you never dare. The second your mom comes home she would notice if a single crumb was left in the sink. You have been on the receiving end of her anger at the state of the house too many times to count, even if it was Bret’s kids who made it. But of course, she wasn’t going to get mad at them. It always ended up being your fault somehow.

Still, you grab a snack and try carefully not to drop any of the pretzels as you go to your room. It was homework all the time in your last semester of High School. You were still waiting to hear from the Naval Academy, but you wanted your good grades to follow through to the very end of the year. Hours of taking notes kept your hand cramped, but it would all be worth it in the end. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. You had spent the last four years working ridiculously hard to maintain your grades, all in the hopes of getting the opportunity your dad and Bradley weren’t afforded. Of course, you’ll never know if Bradley would have been accepted anyway. Which is why you were all too happy to keep this little secret to yourself.

Only a couple short hours later you hear the front door unlock and slam shut. It rattles you out of the Physics textbook you were intently studying, as you straighten up. Whatever she was mad about, it wasn’t good. It was the sound of her heels clacking up the stairs that set you on edge. As they get louder and closer to your room, you turn to face her right as she throws the door wide open. Privacy not a concept she was familiar with. You don’t even notice the bundle of mail in her hand as her eyes glare absolute daggers at you.

“Hi mom, how was work?”, you attempt to start the conversation civilly. It paints you more as a mouse, the way it comes out in a squeak. Her manicured claws squeeze harder around the letters as she throws all but one onto the floor.

“What is this?”, she seethes, holding out the large envelope addressed to you. Your blood runs cold as your shaky hands take it from her and the USNA insignia in the top left corner is revealed.

“I-”, you swallow, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”, she blinks.

“I’m sure it’s some sort of recruiting thing they send to all seniors”, you try to reason. She clicks her tongue, folding her arms.

“Then open it and let’s find out.” There is no room for argument as she raises her brows for you to continue, her eyes still alight with pure rage. Your heart beats faster as your shaky fingers slowly tear open the envelope. They don’t stop as you withdraw the paper. Tears start to form in your eyes as you read the first line of the letter. The excitement you had for any of this is quickly overrun by fear as your mom interrupts you.

“Read it outloud.” Swallowing, you clear your throat without giving her a look and start to read.

“Dear Miss Mitchell, congratulations. We are pleased to offer you an appointment to the United States Naval Academy…”, your voice wavers off toward the end. The moment you had so looked forward to was being tainted as you spoke. You begin to chew on your lip as your eyes slowly make their way back to your mom. Her jaw is set as she stares you down. “Mom-”

“I don’t even know where to start with you”, she seethes. “After years and years of wasting my own life to give you one, this is how you repay me? By throwing it all away, and for what? The chance to be like your father? Or- or Carole’s kid who can’t even be bothered to talk to you anymore?” The use of Carole’s name has you snapping your head back from where it hung in fear.

“Don’t talk about them.” She scoffs at your tiny show of courage.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me! You’re not going.” She says with an edge of finality.

“What?”

“You aren’t going. That is final. No daughter of mine will be sucked into this trap.” Staring back down at your lap, you hope to find one last bit of courage sewn within the denim of your jeans.

“Mom, I’m- I’m going”, you manage to stutter out.

“No you’re not”, she bites back. “You know how I feel about your father, about this, and for some reason I just can’t get through to you.” She scoffs again and paces around your room, heels clicking with each step. You stand as she inspects the picture frames on your bookshelf, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke something of yours, and you want to be able to stop it if it happens again. “Do you know how much I gave up to raise you? How hard it was- is to be your mother?” What she says doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you were younger, but it still stings every time. Like rubbing salt in an old wound that didn’t heal properly.

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world”, you defend, your voice raising slightly. “And I’m sorry if it was so hard to be my mom, but you’re the one who brought me back after every summer. You could have left me with my dad if I was that much of a burden to you!” Before you’re able to register it, she’s moved closer and has her claws wrapped around your arms, pushing you against your desk. In her heels she’s only a couple inches taller than you, but it feels much bigger as she towers over you.

“Do NOT talk back to me you ungrateful brat!” Her fingers grow tighter as she shakes you. You blink rapidly as you wince in pain. “Your father is my biggest regret in life. I wouldn’t have wasted all those years raising his child just to know you would end up being just like him.” She steps away, gathering her thoughts as she turns her back to you. You thought it was only possible to feel fear when in your mother’s presence, even if you were ever angry it was quickly tamped down by the threat of her own rage. This feeling now is new. The one that has you clenching your fists, gathering the courage from the back of your mind to say something. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s all come down to this one boiling point. And you weren’t about to give up your dreams just to keep the peace one last time.

“Stop blaming me for all your downfalls, when you’re the one who slept with him in the first place!” You don’t see it coming. The backhand you had grown used to smacks across your face, causing you to fall back and slide to the floor. The taste of metal fills your mouth as you bring your hand to cradle where she just hit. The spot on your lip you had been chewing earlier has split from her ring, blood coating your fingers as you bring them away from your mouth. She eyes her ring, taking it off and pocketing it to clean later.

As your face starts to throb as your jaw wobbles, the woman before you crouches and puts her finger in your face while you cower on the floor. “When you leave, don’t even bother coming back. I mean it. Don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t last a day, because once you exit this house, you are not my daughter anymore.”

You start packing that night. The rooms at the Academy aren’t available until a couple weeks before the school year starts, but you want to be ready when they are.

You go to school the next day, turn in your homework like you always do, and if people ask about your lip, you tell them the same little lie, “I was just playing basketball and it bounced wrong and hit me in the face.” They seem to believe it, even though you don’t have a hoop, or a basketball for that matter.

When you drive home the first thing you notice is all the boxes on the front porch. Your boxes. Scrambling to the front door, you attempt to unlock it with your key, but it doesn’t fit the lock. Your mom’s car sits in the driveway as you knock and knock, eventually pleading with her to let you in. The house remains silent, as if she isn’t in the kitchen nursing a glass of wine.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do, you pack your car with the few possessions you have and start driving. The tears start falling down your face as you look in your rearview mirror and see what little boxes your entire life has been packed into. You find yourself at a local park, one you’ve passed everyday on your way to school. The sun is shining as you pull out your phone and decide to make one last ditch attempt for help. Clicking Bradley’s name, you hold your phone to your ear and beg as it rings that he picks up. Just this once. The robotic voice tells you he’s unable to get to the phone as you hang your head, your split lip pouting until the beep indicates it’s your turn to talk.

“Hey Bradley. I know we haven’t talked in a while”, you sniffle, “but if there’s any chance you’re hearing this, please pick up”, you start to sob. “I really need to talk to you… I don’t know who else to- to call. Just please, please call me back.” You manage in between your cries. “I miss you, and I hope you’re ok.” You click the button to end it before you ramble on too much. Staring back up to the park, you watch the families playing with their kids. A mom chasing her daughter as she hides behind the slide, a dad throwing a baseball with his son. If someone were to look on they’d probably find it creepy, but you don’t care. You stay until it gets dark, and even after you end up staying your first night of many in your car.

Present Day

Cyclone’s office is unarguably the largest on base. The fact that he has his own waiting room and assistant is a testament to that fact. You’re sitting in said waiting room, across from Rooster, who is still sporting a large bruise. It’s starting to turn the slightest shade of green on the outside, but it’s still rather purple.

Your dad- or Captain Mitchell right now, is inside with Cyclone, discussing the potential for you to be punished. At least that’s what you’re assuming since you assaulted an officer. After dinner Saturday, your dad attempted to talk to you but you shut him out and stayed in your room all night. It wasn’t any better yesterday. He gave you your space, but you could hear him pacing downstairs the entire day, just waiting for you to come out. Bob checked in a couple times just to see how you were feeling, but other than that you kept to yourself.

You didn’t leave your room at all, even when your dad eventually came up to bring you food, he left it outside your door. All while letting you know he was going to be on base early tomorrow to talk to Cyclone, allowing you to drive by yourself this morning. You had barely stepped foot on base when you were intersected by Warlock telling you Admiral Simpson wanted to see you in his office. It struck you with panic causing you to start chewing on your lip, and it didn’t bode well that Rooster was also there waiting when you arrived.

Rooster clears his throat and your stern gaze shoots up to him.

“Sorry”, he quickly lets out. Taking a deep breath in, you let your head fall back to the wall and allow the awkward silence to continue. It occurred to you when you sat down how much this felt like being called to the principal’s office. Except in this case, the punishments were far worse than being put in detention.

The door to Cyclone’s office opens and the two of you stand as Maverick walks out. Clearing his throat he greets you, “Lieutenants.”

“Sir”, you let out in unison. He walks past the two of you as Cyclone’s assistant lets you know you can both enter. Straightening your khaki pants, Rooster allows you to walk in first and the two of you stand to attention in front of his desk. He sits in his seat, staring out the window, and turns to look at the two of you fully, doing a slight double take as his gaze washes over Rooster.

“I am going to tell the two of you what I told Captain Mitchell'', he starts, voice as deep and ruling as always, “The U.S. government does not sign my paychecks to be a god damn babysitter. If you cannot get along as a team, then you will not fly as one. I will send one or the other to another squadron faster than you can say ‘Yes Sir’. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir”, the two of you respond.

“Being on this squadron is a privilege, not a right. The two of you are on thin ice. If either of you have a problem, you better let me know now so I can find the next pilot who will gladly fill your spot in a second flat.” His gaze darts between the two of you as your palms grow sweaty. “Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He eyes Rooster’s face once more, and then back to you very briefly.

“Rooster, if there is anything you would like to let me know about I suggest you say it now.” Swallowing, you can see Rooster out of the corner of your eye do the same.

“No, sir. There is not.”

“You won’t mind me asking where you got the shiner from then?” He asks as he eyes you, you’re more thankful than ever your hands are behind your back at the moment.

“Tripped and hit my face on some stairs, sir.” Your breathing slows slightly as Rooster covers for you. It makes you feel the slightest bit guilty for hitting him in the first place.

“Rooster, you are dismissed.” Your heart tightens in your chest as Rooster exits, leaving just you and the fire breathing dragon. He turns his attention to a pile of papers on his desk as he fans them out.

“I have to tell you, I was initially surprised I hadn’t had to call you in here earlier, given your father’s reputation. But, taking another look at your records, I’m surprised you’re in here at all.” You remain still as stone, staring at the wall just above his head. “Top of your class at the Academy, as well as Top Gun, and yet, you’re still in my office.” Raising a brow, he brings his full attention back to you. “Why is that, Lieutenant Mitchell?” You scoff internally at him questioning you instead of Rooster.

“Things got out of hand, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sighing, he stands and faces his window, gazing upon his domain.

“I wasn’t hesitant when Admiral Kazansky suggested you be added to this detachment. Your records speak for themselves. The insistence on having Captain Mitchell in charge however, made me more skeptical. How would that look?” He turns to you once more. “Having a parent and child in the same squadron? Rooster might know your dad, but on paper you have more to gain. And your flying ability doesn’t mean anything when politics are involved. It doesn’t matter what was said.” Setting both hands on his desk, he leans forward, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your facade, “I am going to give you some advice, and it is in your best interest to listen and listen good. What happened last week cannot happen again. Tread lightly, keep your head down, and do what you came here to do. Your job.” Punctuating the last two words with his finger pounding on the desk, he finally takes his seat. “You are dismissed.”

You hold your breath all the way to the hallway. Once out of sight from anyone, you take in a deep breath and let it out through your nose, collecting yourself before making your way to the women’s locker room. You know he’s right. You let yourself get comfortable, and once you get comfortable things start to crumble. It’s like everything you touch gets ruined and breaks right under your fingertips. This was no exception. You had to be better, do better. Emotions are where you lose control, say things you shouldn’t say, and you get justly punished for them.

You are still before the locker room door, taking in a breath before letting yourself in. Halo is lacing up her boots while Phoenix slips her flight suit on when you get to your locker. They both greet you with a small smile as you start to change uniforms.

“How was your meeting with the air boss?” Phoenix asks, already knowing all about it apparently. “Did he totally lay into Rooster?”

“If he laid into him more than you did, I’d be surprised he’s still standing”, Halo comments.

“Wait, what did you say to him?”, you ask Phoenix as she rolls her eyes.

“Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, ‘why are you being such a dicktroll’, and ‘I can’t even look at you right now’”, Halo lists off for her.

“Dicktroll?”, you laugh, “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah well, when I’m mad the words just start coming out of my mouth.”

“He’s still your friend”, you mutter. “And I said some regrettable things, too.”

“Mantis. You’re my friend. I don’t even know if I would call him that after this. And yeah, I know you separately and out of whatever mess you’re in now, but I know when someone is being an asshole. And Rooster was being a major asshole. What you said didn’t warrant what he told everyone” She catches your shoulder as you finish zipping up your flight suit, “I’m gonna have your back no matter what, ok? And I guarantee everyone else in that room will, too.” You turn to Halo as she nods in agreement.

“I appreciate it, truly”, you thank them as you begin to tie up your own boots.

“What did Cyclone say to you, though?” Halo asks.

“Um”, you cough, “Basically I’m just happy to even still be here.”

“What does that mean?” Phoenix asks as her brows furrow.

“Doesn’t matter”, you reply, patting her back as the three of you leave the locker room.

Maverick is already at the front of the room, talking with Hondo as you walk in behind Halo and Phoenix. Bob smiles at the two of them, and you think for a second you see it get slightly wider as he spots you behind them. It almost makes you forget that everyone is trying and failing to hide the fact that they’re thinking about what Rooster said.

That fact alone has you crawling in your skin just a little bit. Bob turns to you as you open your notebook to where you were taking notes on Friday. You try your best to ignore the flits of eyes that turn your way, but you can still feel them on you.

“Hey”, he smiles.

“Hey”, you smile right back.

“How’s your hand feelin?”, he whispers.

“Oh that”, looking down at it, you stretch your fingers out and wiggle them, “Definitely feeling a lot better.” Phoenix turns at your own words, eyes widening as she looks at the discoloration on your knuckles.

“Jesus, what happened?” You’re about to tell her the same lie you told Penny, but before you’re able to open your mouth, Hangman whistles from his seat on the other side of the aisle. Everyone’s eyes follow Rooster as he makes the uncomfortable trek to the back of the room. Phoenix’s eyes quickly move from the bruise on his face back to your hand as you tuck it under your opposite one. A slow smile creeps on her face as she realizes how you stood up for yourself. “Nice shot”, she whispers to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you whisper back as you pretend to look through your notes.

“Rooster”, Maverick’s voice speaks from the front, “Take a seat up here please”, he asks as he motions to the vacant seat next to you. Your brows furrow as do Rooster’s.

“Mav-”

“Now”, he responds rather sternly. Rooster follows his orders and he sits next to you as you stiffen. The rest of the room is silent as they wait for Mav to start the day.

“It has been brought to my attention that there has been some hostility amongst this team.” If it wasn’t at all obvious he was talking about you and Rooster, the ways his eyes wander to the two of you confirm the fact to everyone. “If you can’t act as a team, it is incredibly hard to fly as a team, and when you don’t fly as a team, people get hurt.” He eyes the room as everyone looks on in anticipation. “That being said, we’re going to start today with a little… exercise.” He says the last word with a hint of a smirk on his face.

“I will ask each of you a question. If you get it wrong you will have to do 10 pushups. If you get it right, however, you can choose anyone in our squad to do those 10 pushups for you.” People start to groan around the room at the prospect of not answering a question correctly.

“Rooster”, your dad starts, “When did the U.S. land on the moon?”

“Um, July 1969”, he responds, no doubt he has the right answer.

“Wrong, the correct answer is July sixteenth, 1969. Drop and give me 10.” Rooster blinks in surprise, but does as he says. Everyone shifts in their seats, realizing how nitpicky he’s being about these answers.

“Phoenix, what year was Top Gun founded?”

“It was 1969, and I believe it was in-”

“Correct”, your dad interrupts her. “Who would you like to give your push ups to?” She smiles slightly and turns to where Rooster has just sat back down after finishing his pushups.

“Rooster”

“You heard her, give me another 10, Rooster.” He does as he’s told, once more dropping to the floor.

“Payback, when was the Declaration of Independence signed?” Payback laughs slightly at the question, before noticing the very serious look on Maverick’s face.

“July 4, 1776, sir.”

“Very good, who gets your pushups?”

“Rooster”, he responds immediately. Payback looks over, sending you a small nod and smile, and you give it right back. Rooster stays down this time, as Hondo, who is all too happy to be doing this, counts his pushups from the back of the room. You watch across the room as everyone’s eyes light up. Maverick continues to go around asking possibly the easiest U.S. History questions, and everytime a member of the squad gets their answer inevitably right, they assign their punishment to Rooster. Your heart warms that every time someone gives their correct answer, they spare you a glance or a nod, subtly acknowledging they’re doing it for you.

Rooster’s starting to sweat and slow down as Maverick finally gets to you. His eyes grow a touch softer as they look at you. He clears his throat, asking his final question, “Mantis, who was the first American woman in space?” A small smile creeps on your face at what seems to everyone else to be a surface-level question.

“Sally Ride”, you answer. The memory of being 8 with dreams of being an astronaut fill your head. One summer at the Bradshaw’s, a documentary about Sally Ride was airing on t.v. and thinking it would be good for you to see a female role model, Carole left it on for you to watch. Turns out, you got a little too obsessed, to the point Carole hand-made a NASA jumpsuit for you to wear on Halloween months later. Bradley even helped you memorize the planets in the solar system that summer, telling you that’s the first thing you needed to know if you were going to be an astronaut. He was 14 at the time, and could have been doing a number of other things than hanging out with an eight year old, but he stayed with you the entire summer. It was one where your dad was deployed the last month, but he stuck by to make sure you never got lonely. You still knew the planet song he made up to help you memorize them like the back of your hand.

“Who gets your pushups?”, he asks, even as a formality now. As you stare at Rooster, who is behind on his last two sets, you’re reminded of that 14-year-old, who stayed with you when you were alone, and taught you how to go after what you wanted. The memory causes a lapse in your anger, and just this once you decide to go easy on him.

“Can I give them to you, sir?” His eyes go a bit wide as he blinks away his surprise. “You are technically a part of this team, are you not?”

“I guess, yeah- I am. Alright Hondo”, he says as he situates himself on the ground, “Count me out.”

Rooster and Maverick finish their pushups almost simultaneously, which leaves the rest of the time in the classroom to go over more flight maneuvers for the following week.

Bob saves you a seat at lunch like he’s been doing it forever, and you are more than happy to sit next to him.

“Do you realize that yesterday was the first day in like 3 weeks we haven’t seen each other in person?” You ask, taking a chip off of his plate.

“Wow”, he remarks, watching you so casually sharing each other's food. “I mean I did notice… It was awfully quiet at my house.” He gives you a small smile as you lightly shove his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“What were you doing yesterday?”

“Quite literally nothing”, you reply, taking in a deep breath. Bob continues eating as you mull over your next words. “Rooster was at dinner on Saturday.”

“Are you serious?” He asks, almost choking on a chip.

“Yeah”, you nod, “He told me he was sorry, again.”

“How did that go?”, he treads lightly. You sigh, glancing across the mess-hall to see Rooster eating at a table by himself. For once he’s the one who looks lonely, and you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. But then again, he did this to himself.

“I don’t know, I think he was angry at me for the wrong reasons, which made him feel worse about what he said.”

“He should feel bad about it. It doesn’t matter if they were the wrong reasons, he shouldn’t have said it at all.”, Bob mutters, causing you to look back at him. He blinks a couple times under your gaze as you don’t look away. “What?”

“Thanks for having my back”

“Of course, I’ll always have your back”, his smile gets a little more full, a little more crooked the longer you two look at each other. And you can feel the same happening to your own smile before you look over Bob’s shoulder to see Phoenix heading your way. Dropping her lunch bag on the table has you scooting the slightest bit away from Bob, just to create a little more distance between the two of you.

“Soo”, she draws out, “I know it’s been a wild few days, but are you two still coming to my house this weekend?” Shit, you forgot all about the party she invited you to. “I’m officially uninviting Rooster if that sways you in anyway.” Chuckling slightly, you look over her shoulder and watch Rooster as he picks at his own food.

“It’s fine, Phoenix. Like Mav said, if we can’t work as a team it’s hard to fly as one.” You decide.

“This is a party, Mantis. One in which I would not like to invite losers and assholes into my home, and he fits into both of those categories.”

“So does Hangman”, you reply as she rolls her eyes. “He did apologize to me, and I believe him.”

“Did you forgive him, though?”, Bob chimes in.

“That’s beside the point. Whatever is going on with me and Rooster doesn’t involve the rest of you, and I never should have brought it into work.” Phoenix looks on in contemplation as Bob gives you an earnest look in understanding. “Plus, we have direct orders to be on our best behavior.”

“I’ll think about it”, she trails off. There’s a lull in the conversation as you continue to eat until Phoenix turns to Bob. “Rachel’s friend Emily is gonna be there, too.” You stop eating, trying to glance at Bob’s reaction through the corner of your eye.

“Phoenix-”, he groans, “I’ve already told you I don’t want to be set up on any dates.”

“And why not?”, she probes. “I just wanna see you happy, you’re like my little brother now.”

“I just…”, his eyes move quickly from Phoenix to glance at you once before she moves on.

“It’s not even a date”, she reasons, “Just come to the party and meet her. That’s all I’m asking.” The conversation ends with that as you ponder Phoenix’s words. You don’t view Bob as a brother at all, but you want to see him happy. You’re happy whenever you’re with him, and you hope he’s happy, too. But you know it’s not sufficient. Bob deserves love, something you can’t give him, and something you don’t even know he wants from you. Even if it was a possibility.

The next day, your father takes a strange but familiar route to get the team back in its groove. He lets you know that day before you leave to meet at the Hard Deck instead of on base, and an immediate buzz fills the air. Everyone already knows what’s going down.

“Your dad’s not one for talking is he?” Fanboy asks as you trudge your way through the sand.

“No, no he is not”, you respond while placing your sunglasses over your eyes. Your dad had explicitly stated to you the day before that he got permission this time for an entire beach day. This explanation had come no further than two seconds after you had asked if Cyclone was going to make a surprise appearance this time.

The San Diego sun is as harsh as ever as the sweltering heat threatens to melt the sun screen right off your skin. Following Payback and Fanboy from the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you meet your father and the rest of the squad closer to the water. Everyone else is already shirtless and ready to start, except for Bob of course. Much to your battling emotions of relief and disappointment. You catch his eye, and make your way over to him as he talks to Omaha and Phoenix.

“Are you ready for some team bonding?” Phoenix asks you sarcastically as you roll your eyes.

“So ready. What better way to get over a fight than throwing balls and tackling each other?” You add with a cheery fakeness that has Bob chuckling. Hondo whistles, taking your attention away from the tall WSO as the day commences.

“Alright, listen up!”, your dad starts, “Today’s training is dogfight football. I’m choosing the teams this time.” Rolling your eyes at the notion, you turn to Bob.

“How much you wanna bet he puts me on a team with Rooster and Hangman?”, you whisper through the side of your mouth. Glancing down at you through his tinted prescription lenses, he chuckles slightly.

“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d bet it all on that”, you smile and shake your head, catching sight of Rooster off to the side of everyone. He’s already looking in your direction, causing you to furrow your brows and look back to your dad.

“Starting with team number one, we have Mantis, Rooster, Hangman, Fanboy, Omaha, and Yale.” He announces as you scoff only loud enough for Bob to hear.

The teams move to gather in huddles before the game starts, and as Hangman and Omaha argue over who gets to be the quarterback, you watch as Fanboy and Yale attempt to come up with a solution. You don’t even notice Rooster at first as he stands next to you. He clears his throat, startling you slightly as you look in his direction, then back to the boys fighting.

“I wanted to say thank you for not giving me your push ups yesterday.” You know an olive branch when you see one, having offered him multiple over many years. Still, you don’t look away from the display of toxic masculinity in front of you before answering.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Seriously, I appreciate it.” You don’t respond to him this time, prompting him to fill the silence between the two of you. “Mantis, I really am sorry-”

“What are you doing, Rooster?”, you ask now, turning to face him. He’s taken aback by your abruptness as he stammers for a response.

“I just thought maybe since-”

“Since Cyclone told us to play nice?” You finish for him. “Don’t get it twisted, Rooster. My actions from yesterday are purely so that I can remain on this team. I worked my ass off to get here, and I am not going to let you of all people jeopardize that.” Walking away from him, you tear the football out of Hangman’s hands while he’s distracted. “Do we have a game plan or what?”

Bob is desperately trying to pay attention to Maverick reiterating the rules of dogfight football, but his eyes keep wandering back to you as you stand next to Hangman. You’re wearing a loose tank top and he can see your sports bra through the sides, leaving the tiniest sliver of skin available for his eyes to roam over. You’re trying your best to act interested even though you know this game front and back. He catches your eyes wandering over the squad, and through his sunglasses he sees you widen your eyes in fake agony. He smiles as you continue to roll your eyes, and as he shakes his head in an attempt to hide his laugh, he glances over and finds Rooster staring at him. Squaring his shoulders as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Bob turns his attention back to Mav.

The game gets ready to start, you and Bob being chosen to snap the footballs. “Get ready to go down, Floyd”, you joke as you bend forward, setting the football on the sand. He mirrors your actions, and as he bends forward, he forgets any response he was about to say. From where he’s bent over, he can see right down your tank top and sports bra, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. Swallowing, and looking back to your eyes, you don’t seem to notice his miniscule distraction. He barely even hears the whistle before you’re snapping the ball to Hangman and attempting to block the rest of his team. His hands feel a little more clammy than before the game started.

In order to keep your team happy, the decision is made to keep switching positions. You think it’s a good idea at the time, but as you run slightly backwards in order to try to catch the ball, you don’t even see what you’re hitting until the wind is knocked out of you. In an attempt to catch the ball Omaha’s thrown, your arms are stretched out, but you ultimately end up with your arms full of Bob as the two of you hit the sand hard.

Hondo blows his whistle, signaling everyone to stop as Bob groans from beneath you. The vibration of his chest against yours distracts you from the ache in your temple as you sit up to stare down at his face, eyes squinting in pain.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You ask, assessing for any injuries.

“I’m fine, are you ok?”, he manages to slip out. His face looks fine, but as you quickly sit off to the side of him to assess the rest of his body, his hand moves to his face. “Oh geez”, he mutters. Glancing back up to his eyes as he sits up, a gush of blood pours out of the hand now clutching his nose. The rest of the team has gathered around you, and a couple people wince through their teeth at the amount of liquid pooling in his hand.

“Oh shit”, you let out without really meaning to. “Does anyone have a towel?” The team scrambles at the urgency in your voice, and without having to say anything else, a towel is plopped into your lap. You immediately move to replace Bob’s hand with the beach towel, holding it right beneath his nostrils which are simultaneously releasing blood.

Mav moves to bend down next to the two of you, “Here, let me see.” You take the towel away just for a second to let your dad inspect Bob’s nose as he looks up. There’s blood dripping over his lips and chin, prompting you to place the towel back.

“Is Penny working tonight?”, you ask, glancing back from the Hard Deck just beyond the sand.

“Yeah she should be in.”

“Good, I’m gonna take Bob up there and try to get this to stop bleeding.”

“Yeah, we should probably call it a day”, Mav replies as he places a hand under Bob’s elbow to help him up.

“No, I’m fine really”, Bob’s muffled and now nasally voice replies. “You guys keep playin’, I’ll go and take care of this.”

“You are not doing that by yourself”, you reply, almost amused at the fact he thinks he can get rid of you that easily. There’s no room for argument in your voice as you throw one of his arms over your shoulder to guide him up the sand to the bar. Phoenix steps in front of you before you leave.

“You got him?” She asks, her features twisted in a grimace as she examines his face.

“I’ve got him”, you reassure her as she watches you pass. Your arm is around his waist while his lies across your shoulders, and you’re trying ridiculously hard to focus on the task at hand instead of his warm body encasing yours. Bob on the other hand wants to tell you he can walk perfectly fine, but he doesn’t want to risk you letting him go. His nose is starting to throb, but all he can feel is your bare shoulders against his skin as your smaller hand grips his waist.

Once arriving at the bar, you walk through the glass door until Penny sees the two of you and rushes over.

“What happened?”, she asks as she watches you help Bob into the air conditioned building.

“There was a small crash”, you explain. “Do you have any towels or ice?” It’s still fairly early in the evening, the sun not setting quite yet, but the first patrons who have sat down in the bar look at the two of you with wide eyes.

“Of course”, she blinks as she moves behind the bar. “There’s a couch in my office, you can take him back there and I’ll get you something else to clean him up with.” You do as she says and open the door to her office, gently letting Bob sit down on the small loveseat, taking the seat next to him. He’s still holding the towel to his nose as he tries to lean back.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to tilt your head back”, you tell him. Gingerly placing your hand on the back of his head, you tilt him so he’s leaning forward slightly. With your other you’re lightly pinching his nose to help stop the bleeding while he holds the towel. Bob can’t help but think how you seem to already know every trick and quirk to stop the bleeding. How you must have had to clean up your own nose bleeds.

Your brows have been in a constant furrow since the collision, and he takes in the way your teeth chew on your lip.

“Hey”, he tries to muffle through the towel. Your gaze shifts from his nose up to his eyes. “I’m ok, really.” You give him a doubtful look as you pinch his nose. Your elbow rests on his shoulder, hand still cradling the back of his head.

“How’s your head?” You ask in earnest.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, he responds as soon as you’re done asking. His comment causes you to crack a smile, clearing the furrow out of your brows as you laugh.

“You did not just say that to me”, you laugh. Bob laughs along with you as he tries to breathe through his mouth. Using his shoulder as support, you lean forward and laugh closer to him.

“Ok I’ve got-”, Penny walks in on the two of you, causing her to pause in the doorway, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah everything’s fine”, you wave off her concern

“Good… I’ve got some wet rags and a bag of ice.”

“Thank you”, you reply, still trying to stifle your laugh with Bob. Confusion is written all over her face as you turn back to her.

“Right, well… I’ll just be at the bar if you need anything else.” Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing, and Bob smiles at the notion. Your eyes meet his again through the same tinted lenses, warping the color of his irises. The dust settles from your laughing fit and it’s just the two of you in Penny’s cramped office, perched on the edge of the ratty old sofa she must have got in a garage sale. You’re still cradling the back of his head as your fingers absentmindedly play with the short hair. He sucks in a breath, stopping your movements.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, that’s not- No I’m fine”, you manage to hear him through the towel. Looking at the bright yellow tropical flowers of the cotton now stained in crimson, you slowly remove your fingers from his nose.

“Does it feel like it’s still bleeding?” Bob attempts to sniff through his nose as he takes the towel away from his face.

“No, I think we’re ok.” You wince at the sight of slightly-dried blood that is now smeared from his nostrils down his chin and neck. It’s soaked into the yellow of his t-shirt, leaving a stain you don’t think he’ll be able to get out easily. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not too bad”, you attempt to lie to him. Obviously not doing that great of a job as he squints his eyes at you. Looking to get away from his playful glare, you eye a box of tissues just behind him. Reaching around him, you grab a few tissues and start to twist them.

“What are you doing?”

“We gotta plug you up.”

“Excuse- plug me up?” He laughs.

“Before we get all the blood off, we just gotta make sure it’s not gonna start bleeding again.” You hand him the first piece of tissue as he delicately places it in one nostril. “Otherwise you’re just gonna have to clean yourself up again.” He glances back up at you, this time with an unreadable gaze. Like he’s trying to study you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You eye him suspiciously as you hand him the other tissue. His eyes move to your fingers stained with his blood, and he looks away again in contemplation as you grab the wet rag.

“Seriously, what is it?” He shrugs.

“Nothing.” Huffing out a breath of frustration, you reach into the pocket of your gym shorts, taking a penny out and placing it in the palm of his hand. He smiles slightly at the notion of you just having this in your pocket, moving the penny to his crimson fingertips. The hint of a smile on his face is quickly replaced with a lopsided frown. “I- I’m sorry you know how to do all of this.” Your shoulders slump as he avoids your gaze. “And I’m sorry you have to do it again.”

“Bob- it’s ok.” You tell him softly, he glances back up, eyebrows twisted.

“It’s not though.. You shouldn’t be an expert at this.” Chewing your lip once more, you stare deeply into his eyes as they gaze back in worry.

“Bobby, I’m ok. I’m ok now and that’s what matters.” Bob is trying his best to believe you, but the image of you crying on the floor of the women’s locker room comes to mind. Then the feeling of your tears soaking his flight suit. You squeeze his hand around the penny once, gaining his attention once more.

“Ok”, he responds just above a whisper. You grant him a small smile in the silence that lingers, reaching back for the wet rag to clean him up with. It’s dried more since you’ve sat down, but you’re still just as gentle with your swipes across his chin. Glancing at his face, you notice there’s a couple specks of blood on the apples of his cheeks, almost underneath his frames.

“May I?” you ask, motioning to his glasses.

“Sure”, he breathes out. Your hands slowly rise and slide the glasses off his face, folding them and placing them gently on the table next to you. The breath is just about knocked out of your lungs as his wide, sky blue eyes blink at you for the first time without a barrier. You’re stuck for a moment in time, just admiring the color and how intently they look at you. You’re broken out of your trance as a drop of water from the rag slides down your hand, dripping on your lap.

Continuing where you left off, you dab at what was previously covered by his glasses, moving down beneath his nose and around his chin and mouth. The rag you were using is now stained a light red and you switch it out with the spare one Penny brought. The bar has gotten a little louder now as the day turns to evening, but it’s still muffled through the door and hallway. It’s quiet enough you can still hear Bob breathing so close to you. Your other hand gently nudges his chin upward so as to gain access to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Once you’ve ensured his neck is clean, you look back on his face, hoping to get the spots you missed.

“You can look down now”, you whisper. You don’t know why you started talking so quietly, maybe to preserve a moment of silence you don’t get to enjoy so much, but as he looks back at you, you understand it’s just to preserve Bob. If you don’t disrupt the bubble you’ve put yourself in, it won’t burst. And you can stay in this moment with him for as long as you decide to. He doesn’t tell you he can clean himself up, even though both of you are thinking it. And you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. Right now it’s just the two of you, in this stolen moment in time where nothing else exists beyond the four walls of the dingy office.

Your hand moves instinctively to cradle his jaw, just to get a better hold on him while you wipe around his lips. With the rag wrapped around your finger, you swipe underneath the plush of his bottom lip, then over the top. Your eyes move slightly up, to check for any more blood, but catch sight of the tissues sticking out of his nose. It catches Bob off guard as you start to chuckle.

“What?” He asks this time. You lean back slightly, both hands now in your lap, to get a full view of his face and start to laugh a little harder. “What is it?” He presses, starting to laugh as well.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who said I had to ‘plug myself up’”, he mocks, not meaning to laugh at the end of his sentence.

“At least it’s not a tampon up your nose”, you mutter. His brows raise at your comment.

“A what?”, he stammers.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Bradley’s mom shoved a tampon up his nose to get it to stop bleeding?” He chuckles in surprise, but also at the thought of a now adult Bradley with a tampon dangling out of his nose. “That was actually the first time I saw a bloody nose, I thought he was dying”, you smile at the memory.

“What happened?”, Bob asks. Setting the now bloodied rag next to the old one, you grab the bag of ice.

“Back in his old neighborhood he had some really annoying neighbor kids. Brad took me to the park, and these three eleven year olds would not let me swing on the damn swings. Then they started saying some really mean things, and that’s when Bradley stepped in. He told them to apologize to me and share the swings and they refused. He-”, laughing at the image you continue, “he shoved one of them off the swings, picked me up, and started to help me swing.” Shaking your head at the memory, you reach up and gently rest the ice pack against Bob’s nose as he watches your face the entire time.

“Not five minutes later, all three kids are back, this time with their older brother. Keep in mind, Bradley was only twelve, and their brother was just about to start high school and absolutely huge. Brad tried to calmly explain what happened, but before he could get a word in, this guy decks him. I ran to the house to grab Carole, screaming that this kid was going to kill him. We raced back to the park, and once this guy saw a raging Carole Bradshaw running full speed towards him he sprinted the other way”, you smile.

“Bradley’s nose was bleeding and I just started bawling, thinking that this is it. He’s dying.” Bob laughs with you as you readjust the ice on his face. “We walked him back to the house, and the first thing she did was shove a tampon up his nose, while explaining to me that he was going to be fine.” Your laughing subsides as well as your own smile as you reminisce.

“Carole Bradshaw sounds like a woman that should not be messed with.” Bob comments, bringing your gaze back upon him.

“Yeah”, you sigh. “She was a fierce protector. They both were.” Bob’s hand searches for your own, squeezing softly.

“Mantis-”, whatever Bob is about to say is cut short as someone clears their throat from the door. The two of you look up to find Rooster, only this time Bob’s hand doesn’t stray from your own. It holds your fingers more firmly at the sight of him.

“Sorry”, Rooster interrupts. “Mav wanted me to check in, see how Bob’s doing.” He glances between your connected hands, then back at where you’re icing his nose. You clear your own throat this time as your hand retreats from its place in Bob’s.

“Yeah, he’s good. Blood’s stopped.”

“That’s good”, Rooster offers, trying to and failing to make this small interaction less awkward.

“Was that all?”

“Actually, um, Mav wanted to talk to you. Privately.” He adds on after glancing back at Bob.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He taps on the door before leaving the two of you alone again. You turn back to Bob, not looking him in the eyes as you place the ice pack in his hand.

“I guess duty calls.” You start to gather up the rags, but before you’re able to stand, Bob’s large fingers caress the back of your wrist to get your attention. He’s very mindful to not grab a hold of your arm as the hairs on the back of his hand tickle you.

“Hey, thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, you manage to breathe out. “I’m sorry I ran into you.”

“I’m not.”

After running to the bathroom to wash your hands off, there is still a wide smile on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You check for any more blood, but decide it’s all gone as you attempt to squash your smile. The rest of the squad is sitting in the bar, each of them with more clothing on then they had earlier. Your eyes roam the room for your father, but come up empty. Rooster is standing on the back deck outside, and you begrudgingly walk towards him. The door swings open and shut, muffling the noise from within.

“Where’s Mav?”, you ask, getting straight to the point. Rooster looks over his shoulder at you, setting his drink on a nearby table.

“He took Penny for a bike ride.”

“I thought you said he wanted to talk to me”, you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“About that”, he scratches the back of his neck, “I meant to say that I needed to talk to you.” Rolling your eyes and giving him a scoff, you turn around, hand stretched toward the doorknob. “Mantis- please. Just give me five minutes.” And for some inexplicable reason. You don’t reach any further. You turn around, fold your arms, and give him the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief as you walk closer to the edge of the deck and watch the golden sunset.

“I want you to know that I’m apologizing because I really am sorry. It’s not just to keep the peace for Cyclone. I failed you.. And I failed my mom.” You turn towards him, and just for a second you don’t see the stone cold eyes that were set upon you just days ago, you see the sandy hair and soft hazel eyes of a brother who would do anything for you.

“It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” He reiterates. Absent-mindedly you start chewing on your lip, and avoiding his eyesight. A part of you wants so deeply to forgive him and go back to how it used to be, but the other part is still hurt by what he did.

“Which is why I need you to listen to me. You can’t go down the path you’re already falling towards.” Your head slowly looks up as confusion clouds your features.

“What does that mean?”

“I know Cyclone chewed you out more after I left. We’re both on pretty thin ice here, and you worked so hard to get to where you are. I don’t want to see you throw it all away for someone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your heart rate is steadily climbing, wondering if Rooster is about to go where you think he’s going to.

“I’ve noticed things. I’ve told you to be careful before, and now more than ever I wish you would please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Swallowing, you turn back toward the coastline so he can’t read into what you’re trying to conceal in your face. “I see the way you look at him. The same way you’ve looked at boys you’ve had crushes on since you were little.”

“I am not some little girl, Rooster.” You seethe toward him, your face flushed in anger, embarrassment even at his accusations. “I grew up a long time ago, so whatever version you still have of me in your head, get rid of her. Cause she doesn’t exist anymore.” Shaking your head, you stalk toward the back door, catching a glimpse of Bob with his sunglasses on once again, the tissues since discarded, playing a game of pool with Phoenix and Fanboy. “And I don’t have a crush on him. Bob and I are just friends.”

“I never said his name.” Your blood runs cold at his words. You don’t dare turn back and give him the satisfaction of being right. “So you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but I already know the truth. All I’m trying to say is be careful, and remember why you’re here.”

You let Rooster’s words wash over you as you reach for the doorknob and let yourself back inside. How stupid could you be? Sure, you’ve perhaps come to terms that you maybe have more than friendship feelings for Bob, but you were never going to act on them. But now apparently Rooster can still see right through you. The mix of his and Cyclone’s warnings run through your mind as you get closer to the pool table and stand next to Phoenix.

You can tell she’s already a couple drinks in as her volume is a little louder than normal.

“Tell him, Mantis!”

“Tell him what?” She motions over to Bob as he watches Fanboy take his shot, shaking his head at her while he does so.

“Tell him to go on a date with Rachel’s hot friend!” Your eyes catch Bob smiling and shaking his head at her antics, obviously more amused with her drunken state than her words. His crooked smile makes you want to wrap him up in a hug so it never goes away, but you’re reminded of the warnings from Rooster and Cyclone. Repeating over and over in your head the longer you look at him.

“You should”, you tell him, as much as it pains you to say. He glances up at you, smile falling as his brows furrow the slightest bit. “Give her a chance at least.”

“Oh, ya think?” He asks, the slightest tone of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. It can’t hurt, can it?” And even though it is tearing you apart to say it, you do it anyway.

“I guess not.” You give him a slight smile, although it turns into more of a grimace the longer you hold it. He does the same to you, turning back to stare at the pool table with a hardened gaze, eyes not actually following where Fanboy’s ball runs to. Phoenix cheers out in glee at Bob’s acceptance, and you slip out the front door, saying your quick goodbyes. You pass Rooster at the bar, not giving him a second look as you make it to your car. Your heart aches at the thought of telling Bob to find happiness somewhere else, knowing damn well if the circumstances were different you would be first in line to offer it. Your brain reminds you however, you're making the right decision. It's the only decision. Right?

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #why me?

101 notes · View notes

thechaoticplayer · 2 months

Text

Stressed Out!

Author's note: eheh... Shu yamino brain rot rawr- for that one person who requested this (I totally forgot I'm sorry I have the memory of a rock) kinda got rushed at the end bc I was riding this whilst on public transportation :D

Summary: Shu has been awfully stressed lately, with all the rigid schedules and barely any sleep- however you offer a great idea to soothe our beloved sorcerer (sorcerer? I barely even know her)

Contains: nsfw content, blowjob, riding him, FILTH, I'm gonna devour this man whole ahem sorry, praising, not very rough sex, x fem reader, Shu yamino x reader, established relationship, sub! shu

None of my works are proofread!

'Shu seems unusually stressed,' you think to yourself, watching your boyfriend wash the dishes in the kitchen. Your chin propped up on your palms as you study his weary figure. You've noticed the bags underneath his eyes, which about intensifies the exhausted aura around him. You tried to wash the dishes yourself, but he protested, saying he was alright.

Which was bullshit. Shu always took care of you, so now it's your turn to take care of him.

You stand up from your chair by the counter, sauntering over to the back of him. You wrap your arms around his mid riff, pressing your chest against his back. Shu visibly stiffens for a moment, and then relaxes into your touch, rocking back and forth.

"Baby, you need to relax. You're such a workaholic," you mumble, ear against his back to hear his steady heartbeat.

"I just have a couple more things to do, don't worry about me," Shu replies, tossing a smile over his shoulder. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flexing as he scrubs. "Then after that, I promise to relax and snuggle with you. Okay?"

You grumble, squeezing him hard and forcing him to grunt. "No. After you're done with those dishes, you're coming with me."

Shu glances back at you, using his magic to make the dish float into the dishwasher. "But-"

"No buts. Unless you rather me ignore you for the next week?" You threaten, arching a brow at him.

He shakes his head instantaneously. "Of course not!"

"Good." You give his back a light kiss. "I hate it when my boyfriend is so troubled. It's my duty to help you, you know."

"I know," Shu sighs, rinsing a bowl. "It's just between streaming and taxes and errand shopping... there's a lot for me to do."

"I can do all of those things."

"I know you can but..."

"But what?"

Shu puts away the final dish, drying his hands off. You back away so he can turn to face you. He scratches his neck. "It's just... I feel like I need to be the one to do things for you. I'm your boyfriend. I need to make sure you have all your needs met."

"I'm your girlfriend. I need to make sure your needs are met too," you counter, taking his hands in yours. Shu stares at your joined hands. "Being in a relationship doesn't mean one person has to do all the heavy lifting. Both have to shoulder each other's burdens and take care of each other. A two way street, if you will."

Shu tilts his head, watching you closely. A small smile adorns his face. He tugs you closer to you and brushes his lips against your forehead. "Thank you."

You beam at him happily and begin to guide Shu to the bedroom. "You're welcome! Now follow me."

The sorcerer obediently follows, your hand intertwined in his. You kick open the door dramatically, eliciting a exuberant laugh from him. You shuffle to the bed, plop down, and yanking him down with you. Shu lands beside you on his side and he laughs harder. You shift onto your side to face him, watching his face glow.

Shu slowly stops, his eyes traveling your face. A slight blush dusts his cheeks. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" You blink.

"Like..." Shu's gaze darts to the ceiling for a second. Then looks back at you. "With hearts in your eyes."

"Because I love you silly," you answer, a hand cupping his cheek. Shu nuzzles into it and you giggle. "I want to take care of you and love you."

His blush deepens and it he looks just so cute! You move closer to him, your nose bumping his. The sorcerer looks at you with slightly wide eyes, appearing like a startled cat. A puff of laughter brushes against his face from you. Shu's hand finds its home on the dip of your waist just as you lean in for a kiss.

It was gentle, and his lips were soft. A sign of affection and endearment. It was brief as you pulled back, however Shu chased your lips into another kiss, this time deeper and passionate. He almost seemed desperate.

You had to pull away for air, nearly gasping as your own cheeks warmed. Staring at each other with half-lidded eyes.

"Please..." A whisper so faint, you thought you weren't hearing right. The sorcerer's hand squeezed your waist, and you knew you were hearing right.

He needed you. And you knew exactly what to do.

You climb atop of your boyfriend, your mouth against his yet again. A soft whine muffled as you perch on him, one hand traveling down from his collarbone, down to his stomach. Shu's muscles tense underneath your touch.

Your lips ghost over his jawline, pressing a soft kiss there. Then your kisses trail down to the spot right under his ear. A little nip at the sensitive skin makes his breath hitch and you smile.

Your fingers dance across his stomach before sliding down to his pants. Just from touch alone, you can feel the tent growing underneath his sweatpants. And as you do so, Shu's hips jolt up slightly. You slowly circle the area before palming him through his pants.

"Mm..." A soft moan. You grip him gently and trace the tip, and the precum seeps through the fabric. His legs twitch as you continue your ministrations.

The sorcerer pants heavily, eyelids drooping and a red flush on his face as you stroke him, as well as kissing down his neck. Shu seems awfully sensitive to each of your touches. And very vocal.

"Baby please..." Shu whispers, bucking his hips up.

"Please what my love?" You coo, making him even more redder.

"I want you to..." he trails off, turning his head as if he were ashamed. His long hair spreads around his head like a halo and you cock your head to the side to look at him.

You hum, a slight puzzled look on your face. Shu glances back at you, biting his lip. Thinking if he should ask this of you or not.

"Do you want me to...?" Your nails drag across his pants, to the waistband and carefully tug down. Shu practically stops breathing, but doesn't tell you to stop.

You continue pulling down the waistband of both his sweats and boxers, his hard erection springing out. You could see every individual vein pulsing, the pre cum leaking from the rosy tip. You scoot backwards, one foot on the floor, then the other. You kneel on the floor, taking his base in a hand. Shu gets up on his elbows, watching with his chest heaving.

You squeeze and a low moan escapes your boyfriend. You trace a vein with a finger, then slip his length in your mouth. The reaction you get him from is perfect. A high whimper and Shu's head thrown back, hips slanted upward. You bob your head up and down, your tongue flattening against your boyfriend's tip. As you swallow him, you pump the base and beautiful noises exit from Shu's lips. His hand takes your hair, moving it out of your face.

"Feel so good, oh god," Shu gasps, shaking on his elbows. "D-doing so good- mm!"

You suck gently on the head of his cock and the sorcerer mewls, the sweetest noise you've heard. Your stomach flips, rubbing your thighs together as the heat flames in the bottom of your tummy.

With a wet pop, Shu's length pops out your mouth as you climb back on top of him. Your boyfriend watches you with a hand covering his mouth, ears bright pink. You quickly pull off your pants and panties, lining up his dick with your entrance.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen. "W-wait-!"

You descend upon his length and you both moan in unison. You can feel him in your walls, pulsing and stretching you out deliciously. Shu's hands grip your hips hard, his nails digging into your skin. His eyes shut, and you can see tears forming in the corners. With just one roll of your hips, the sorcerer has fallen apart.

"A-ah, baby, just like that," he moans, a mix of whimpers from his throat. "Please please please please-"

You begin to bounce up and down, slick covering his length and pelvis. Shu's head falls back onto the sheets as your core begins to milk his cock. Clenching around his erection, Shu was already so sensitive that within seconds he cums hard, a guttural moan ripping from his throat. Strings of his knot coats your insides and you gasp at the feeling. You slow down, the tightness in your stomach forming but you have already done what you needed.

"G-go ahead," Shu breathes, looking at you with pieces of his hair sticking to his forehead.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, your hands on his stomach. "But you already... came."

Shu shakes his head, slowly sitting up and the head of his cock kisses your g-spot. You bite your lip. "Want you to cum too."

You nod, before raising your hips down and dropping down. Shu swallows back his whines, not minding being overstimulated if it meant your enjoyment too. The relationship goes two ways, right?

"Just a bit- m-more," you whisper in his ear with stuttered breaths. A groan in response. You roll your hips and the tightness in your stomach just nearly gets there- you drop yourself onto his length again and you release, vision sparking white as you moan.

You collapse against him, Shu holding you in his arms as he falls back onto the mattress, trying to regain his breath. The sorcerer was still sheathed inside you, but neither of you made the move to... well move.

"Thank you so much," Shu whispers in your ear, kissing your temple lovingly. "It felt so good. I loved it."

You smile cheerfully. "I'm glad."

After a trip to the shower and getting into pajamas, you two cuddle together and watched movies for the rest of the day.

#chaotic.text #nijisanji #nijisanji en #vtuber #nijien #nijisanji smut #luxiem #nijisanji x reader #Shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino smut #Vtuber x reader

123 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as abuse, gore, blood, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your marriage is marred in misery with no escape in sight... until he shows up at your door. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: Adam Warlock

Note: I hope ya'll like this one. I know it's a new and not so popular character.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The bin crashes down into the shrapnel of plastic and trash littered across the kitchen tile. Shane kicks an empty yogurt cup as you stare down in futility as the mess. If he didn't insist on the cheap bags, they would tear so easily but you're not stupid enough to say so.

"I work all fucking day and come home and you want me to take out the goddamn trash! Now look!"

You gulp, batting your eyes at him, paralysed in fear. You can't make your body move. You should grab a new bag and clean it all up, insist that he go sit down and you'll do the work. He doesn't give you a chance for all that as he lunges at you.

You step back on your heel with a squeak, caught around your neck as he spins and swings you around with him. He hooks a foot around yours, bringing you easily to your feet, bending you over the stinking potato skins as your arms shake. You fight to keep him from mashing your face into the garbage.

"And where's dinner? What am I supposed to eat? Maybe you should swallow this all up and you'll realise the sort of bullshit I gotta come home to," he snarls, "stupid fucking bitch."

“I’m s-sorry,” you croak, throat scraping as you try to swallow a sob, “I’ll… I’ll clean this up–”

“Damn right you will,” he barks and jerks you as he rips his grip from your neck, “useless…”

He kicks a plastic tray at you before he stomps off, leaving you to stare at the mess. You sit back on your heels, quivering, and exhale slowly. You shift and reach behind you, opening the cupboard under the sink to retrieve a new bag.

You peel it open and gather up the garbage, piece by piece, focusing on the task as you ignore the odor and the occasional moisture that smears on your hand. As you get it tied up, you stand, choking on your tears as they spill out unstemmed.

You sneak out the back door and carry the bag around the side of the house. You keep your chin down, hoping your neighbours don’t witness your despair. You come up to the gray bin and lift the lid, shoving the bag inside and letting it close with a thunk.

You grab the handles and wheel it away from the siding, the large container rattling as you force it along the uneven grass and onto the walkway. The wheels bounce on the cracks in the pavement and you stop to pull open the white picket fence, paint flaking away beneath your touch.

You continue on and guide the bin to the curb, letting it rest there as you sniffle and try to shake away the last of your weeping. You can’t go back inside like this. If he sees you crying, it will only make him angrier.

You look across the street at the other houses; they’re all nicer than the rundown rental you share with Shane. Where the leaves are strewn in a layered carpet across the mulch of your lawn, the others have the autumnal canopy neatly raked into piles. When you asked for him to grab the rake, his answer was especially bruising. So you’ll see if you can’t get to it tomorrow.

You sigh and turn on your heel, squeaking as you nearly collide with another. You didn’t hear or see the man approach. There was no shadow in his approach, no footsteps scuffing to warn you. You press yourself to the bin as you look up at him. Your chest compresses under some unseen force as the air is forced from your lungs.

You try to apologise for your carelessness but your lips can only form the singular stutter, ‘s-sorry’ as your voice is trapped in your breathless throat. You stare at the man. It’s almost as if he had been waiting for you to turn around.

The leather jacket, the patch sewn on the left-side of his chest, the cool confidence of his posture, they all assure you of who he is. Of the danger he carries with him. You blink up dumb, waving in front of your chest as you try to eke out a single noise, pleading with him not to be angry.

His pale blue eyes twinkle as his smiles, a soft crinkle beside his eyes as the dimming night limns his long face. If Shane saw you standing here with this man, of any, he would lose his mind. You have to get back inside. You have to get away from this stranger.

“No sorry,” he says, his voice rocky but not unkind, “I am in your way.”

He slowly steps aside, retreating as he goes to rest his hand on the post of the white picket gate. He waits expectantly, waving you within as his smooth, deliberate movements fill you with dread. There is a carelessness in him which betrays fearlessness. You will never know what it’s like to not be hounded by inexorable dread. It both irks you and scares you.

You make yourself move. You cross the sidewalk and enter through the open gate, as he looms over you. His gaze is hot on you, clinging and suffocating. Your heart hammers with adrenaline. If there is anyone you fear more than Shane, it is these men and their black leather shadows.

“Have a good night,” he says as he pulls the gate shut between you, “I hope whatever makes you sad does not keep you awake…”

You can breathe again. You gulp in air and fold your hands in front of you. You turn to the man and nearly gasp. There’s something eerie in how he lurks, in how he is both draped in shadow but shines among it.

“Good night,” is all you can get out.

“No moon,” he says as he draws his hand away from the wooden post, “it will be a good night for rest.”

He puts his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket. His breath fogs around him, billowing over his shoulders as he strides through it. You watch his silhouette as he departs, his footsteps make no noise and the night seems to close in around him until you can see him no longer.

You shudder and hug yourself as you back up. You turn, fighting a tugging that tries to keep you outside. You head back between the house and the fence as a chill creeps up your spine.

Your stomach pits as a sudden desolation overwhelms you. You feel hollow and heavy, as if you could collapse right there. You can’t, you have to make dinner. You won’t get much sleep if Shane goes hungry.

🌑

Shane leaves at the usual time. His shifts at the factory are your only escape. They don’t always feel like that as you spend the hours worrying about his return. About what mistake he’ll find when he gets home. So your time is spent still keeping him happy, though you’ve never managed that.

Along with the endless list of chores come those thoughts. Those regrets and questions of how it ended up like this. On when he started to hate you. On when you decided to accept that.

You pull on one of his flannel shirts and a pair of jeans. You dig out some gardening gloves from the shed and take the rake with you as you put your mind to clearing the lawn. The autumnal air is crisp but fresh. It’s almost refreshing.

You come out to the front of the house, starting at the walkway, clearing it of the leaves, brushing them onto the grass. From there, you drag the teeth of the rake away, pushing the growing pile towards the corner of the fence.

Sweat beads on your forehead and dampens beneath the layers of clothing. You huff out a thick hot breath into the cold air. The briskness sneaks down the back of your collar and chills you.

“The winter is close,” the statement startles you from your work.

You plant the rake and grip the handle, facing the figure outside the fence. It’s the same man. Your lips part but you can’t say a word.

“Can you feel it?” He asks.

Your jaw chatters. His eyes fall to your lips as you try to hide it. He steps forward and sets his hands on the points of the fence, leaning in.

“It’s colder when you are alone…” he says.

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “I am not…”

You look back at the house and he chuckles. You turn back to him and bring your other hand to the wooden rake handle. He considers the leaves on the ground with interest. He pushes himself straight. He seems taller than before.

“Are you not?” He asks cryptically. “This is a lot of work for only one.”

You shrug, unsure how to answer.

“I can help.”

Your mouth is dry and your tongue is sticky. You make yourself talk.

“I don’t know you…”

“Adam,” he says pointedly, “my name is Adam. Tell me your name, then we will know each other.”

You speak before you think. As if you didn’t have a choice. Even if reluctance needles at the back of your mind, knowing that Shane would not want you to speak to this man, your name tumbles out as if you owe it to the stranger. Adam.

“Beautiful,” he remarks as he nears the fence, reaching over to the clasp, “let me help.”

“N-no,” you drag the rake with you and catch the gate as he lifts the latch, “please–”

“You must rest,” he shows his palm in a strange gesture, sweeping it in front of you, “you are dizzy and feel unwell. You need to sit down.”

Silver stars speckle in your vision and you feel the world shift under your feet. You look down and clutch the rake tight, feeling as if you might fall over. You let go of the fence and take a step back as you touch your forehead.

“I am… lightheaded,” you admit, confused at how suddenly it come upon you.

He pushes the gate inward and enters. He shuts it with a gentle metal clink and grips the rake above your hand. You recoil, letting him have it as your limbs grow heavy. He leans the tool against the fence and turns to you again.

“Please,” he puts a hand on your arm, the contact filling your head with smoke, “sit down, bunny.” He ushers you to the front steps and helps you sit there. He braces your shoulders and bends over you, “you will not move until I bid.”

You look at him, confused but comforted by his touch. You nod. He pulls his hands away, caressing your cheek before he stands straight. You shiver and hug yourself.

He lingers as his zipper cuts in the air. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and swings it around you, the smell of leather surrounding you. He tugs it snug around you and retreats. You can’t help put pull it tighter as another scent tickles your nose; him.

His boots mulch across the leaves and grass and he grabs the rake. He resumes your work, easily heaping up the clutter, the steady scrape of the tines easing you. You look up and watch him. He is unbothered by the cold despite the thin cotton of his black tee shirt. His muscles tauten beneath the fabric as he works.

You feel sleepy as the pale sky blurs around his stark figure. You’re hypnotised by his steady motions, his easy strength. A strand of his golden hair falls forward as he focuses on the ground, gathering up the leaves with diligent care. Your lashes cling to each other and your eyelids itch.

You hug the jacket closer and dip your nose behind the collar. The weight of fatigue settles over you and coaxes your eyes shut. The rake continues to scrape in your ears even as you sink down into oblivion.

🌒

You wake to blackness. Dark lines trim the corners of the room as slowly your vision lifts to a dull gray. The night stares in through the windows, frosted with the slow creep of winter. The wind howls and rattles the pane in the frame. The cold looms outside like a spectre but does not enter.

You are warmer. Too warm. Your body heat enshrines you beneath the quilt pulled to your chin. Despite your want to escape from the stolid cocoon, you do not move. A languid weight keeps you at peace despite your discomfort.

You’ve never felt like this, so calm. There’s a dull tapping at your skull that tells you to worry, to be afraid, but it’s quickly smothered and forgotten. Why should you be? You are home and safe in bed.

You let your eyes close and hum. You just want to sleep, to slip away and never wake up. You drift, mind skewing as if you’re floating on a tide. Then it swells and crashes over you with the dark growl that seeps in through the wall.

Your breath hitches and your lashes snap open. Your ears itch as you listen, trying to hear through the plaster. There are soft, muted murmurs but nothing discernible. You quiver as you hang in the limbo; do you stay or get up?

Slowly, you bring your hands up and pull the quilt away from your face, peeling it with effort past your chest. Cool air sweeps over you, urging you to nestle back beneath the patchwork. You hear it again, like a beast it grits deep through the air, gravelly and harsh.

Sitting up is difficult. That same dizziness blurs your mind. You squeeze your eyelids shut and bid away the echoing auras. When you look again, the world is steady. You stand without reaching for the lamp. You wade through the darkness like quicksand, each step impeded by unseen bounds.

At the door, you wait, hand on the knob, brass cold to the touch. You inhale and taste the air wafting in around the frame. It’s sharp and frigid.

You turn the knob and lift the door on its hinges. You peek down the hall, it’s dark but for the orange flicker glowing from down the hall. That house, the place you call home, the walls you could etch from memory, is suddenly strange and sinister.

You let go of the door and tiptoe out, the voices drawing you in. The conversation garbled in your fuzzy ears. It isn’t until you get closer that you can make out the words. That you recognise the familiar tones.

“What.. are you… waiting for?” Shane’s words are interspersed with moist gulps and groans.

A snicker, short and stony. There’s little humour in the laughter. Adam replies, “justice.”

“You…criminals are all the same,” Shane utters through laborious breaths, “bunch… freaks… like you… should leave… this town.”

“We own this town,” Adam says, “there would be nothing but dirt if it wasn’t for us freaks.”

A hork and the wet splat of spit on the floor jolts you. You stop just before the doorway, shuddering as you hesitate and look back down the hall. You can go back to bed and hide. If you do, you might wake up and realise it’s all just a rotten nightmare.

“Come on, bunny,” Adam calls to you.

You spin back, finding yourself still alone with only the lip of the wall between you and the flickering amber light. You put your hand on the plaster and your other on your chest. He cannot mean you.

“I hear you,” he says evenly, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

You put your foot out and slowly reveal yourself. You turn and face the room from the doorway. You see the single taper burning on the mantel and the tall shadow beside it. Adam lurks with his straight-shoulder but slack posture.

There is another, in one of the wooden chairs from the dining set, slumped and held up by knotted leather belts. You can see only the back of Shane’s oily black hair. You come forward, eager but terrified to see more of him.

His right eye is swollen shut, a cut weeping beneath, and his lips dribble blood down his chin. He leans forward, kept upright only by his bounds. His breathing is rickety and shallow. He looks at you with his left eye and grunts.

“...bitch…” he mutters under his breath, “slut…I always… knew…”

“Ah ah ah,” Adam tuts and makes himself taller. Shane flinches and swallows loudly, choking on his split and blood, “you mustn’t value your tongue very much.”

Adam reveals a long dagger, the orange glint of the candle reflecting off of it. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. The metal is both dark and gleaming, a perfectly forged fuller down the middle of the blade.

You turn as you stand transfixed by the sight of your husband. Only then do you notice the scarlet leaking down the front of the wooden armrest, staining deep the veins of the wood. There are three fingers remaining on his right, and one less on his left hand. You cup your mouth behind your hand, catching a scream before it can erupt.

“Shhhhhh,” Adam hushes as he presses himself to your back, “I only had a sampling…”

“What have you done?” You whisper as you gape at the ruin of the man before you. His clothing is shredded so that it reveals the long gashes on his chest and the slices down his thighs. “Why…”

“The strong should protect the weak, not harm them,” he bends and nuzzles your hair, “but more, the weak are not helpless.”

“I don’t understand…” your eyes sting as Shane clenches his jaw and glares at you. How often you saw that same glimmer in him. That sheer hatred that made you wonder if he ever loved you.

“You understand,” Adam’s hand trails down your arm and he pulls you around. He presses the handle of the dagger against your palm and closes your fingers around it, “you know exactly what must be done.”

“Please, I can’t…” you whimper, “you… you hurt him. You’ve…” you look at Shane again, “how could you?”

“I could have cut his heart out by now,” Adam sneers, “but I do not own that.” He squeezes your hand, “it is not mine to take.”

“What…”

“I know what he does. He will not stop. Not until you are dead,” Adam insists as he raises the dagger, his hand still around yours, “or he is.”

He drags you towards Shane and aims the tip of the blade at the slouched man’s chest. He holds it there as you shake, whining as you try to free yourself. His strength is unbending and unbroken. He puts a hand on your back, gripping you tight as he keeps the dagger steady.

“I cannot free you, you must do it yourself…”

You close your eyes. This must be why the townsfolk whisper of the men in leather. Why they scatter at the sight of them. Murderers! Monsters!

“Please–”

“He has made you weak,” Adam purrs into your hair, “I have come to make you strong.”

“No–”

“Yes, you must,” he growls along the rim of your ear, “remember all he has inflicted on you. The names he’s put upon you; bitch, slut, useless, nothing…” he hisses as his hand crawls up to your neck, “how he broke your nose on your wedding night.”

Your heart races, pounding in your ribs. How could he know that?

“How he put your hand on the lit burner when you forgot to buy milk,” he continues, your shaky grasp tightening as your tears crest and fall free.

“Or how just the other day, he would have rubbed your nose in garbage like an incontinent mutt–”

“Stop!” You cry out, “stop! How do you know–”

“I know a beast when I see one,” Adam turns his head, his cheek against your temple, “I know a rabid one should be put down before it can maul again.”

“But… but… I love him,” you sniffle.

“Do you?” He lets his hand fall away from yours but you don’t rescind your reach, you don’t move the dagger away from Shane, “does he love you?”

You know he does not. He never did. You were only ever the stupid girl who fell for him. You realised too late what he really was and now you were trapped for life.

You would be miserable with him until the day you died. Not because he loves you, but because he loves to hurt you.

The tip sinks through the flesh without resistance. You're stunned as you do not stop yourself from letting it further, from pushing it through the layers of fat and muscles, leaning into it until you can’t force it any deeper. You watch the steel bury into him as blood spurts out around your hand and sprays up your sleeve.

Shane does not scream. He cannot as you pierce his heart. His head falls forward and his body goes limp. You keep a hold of the hilt and jerk it as try to wrench it even deeper.

Your hand is slick with his blood and slips off. You raise a fist instead and hit his lifeless shoulder. You hit him again on the head, another strike to his stomach, and a kick for good measure.

You bring your hands up and look at your blood stained hand, your other palm streaked with flecks of his death. You heave and try to scream but you cannot. You collapse to your knees and keel over onto your elbows.

You should cry but you cannot. Your tears evaporate as grief eludes you. It should hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt? You’re not sad, but you’re not happy. No, you are free.

The floorboards creak and you raise your head as Adam kneels beside you. He touches your chin as his other arm slings around you. He pulls you to him and presses his lips to your temple.

“They will find him,” he caresses your cheek as he speaks, “but they cannot take you if you are with me.”

“Take me?” You ask dumbly.

“They will call you murderer, they will lock you up,” he coos, “I will keep you safe, bunny.” He dips his hand back down and nudges your chin up. He looks down at you, eyes shining silver in the candlelight, “I will keep you happy.”

#adam warlock #dark adam warlock #dark!adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #illuminate #au #werewolf au #series #marvel #mcu

134 notes · View notes

illusory-nomad · 5 days

Text

02 Revolver - Good Morning, Ratio!

Secret agent! Aventurine x Criminal! Reader | Revolver masterlist

Word count : 1,010

TW : cursing, weapons

As Aventurine walked down the fancy academy halls, every student and teacher kept their gaze on him, whispering to one another. Even so, Aventurine heeded them no mind as he continued walking until he reached a certain door with the name 'Veritas Ratio' carved to a gold plate on the door. Without bothering to knock, he pushed down the door handle, then kicked it open, a wide, obnoxious grin on his face, similar to that of a younger sibling padding into their older sibling's room to annoy them.

"Good morning, Ratio!"

Ratio groaned loudly, "can you not? When I said that you are welcome to ask for my help whenever, I do not mean you can barge into my office this way."

"Oh, sorry," Aventurine's apology was half-hearted. He knocked on the door, then proceeded to walk to the seat across Ratio, "good morning, Ratio!"

Ratio rolled his eyes, "good morning, gambler. What do you need this time?"

"I need you to help me come up with a plan," Aventurine answered casually.

"For your mission?" Ratio asked.

"Yeah. I told Y/N I'd talk to you and come up with a plan," the blond waved his hands, "so here I am."

"Fine. I will help you... Again," Ratio rolled his eyes.

"Fabulous," Aventurine smiled, clapping like a little kid receiving candy.

"But I know that street rat does not trust me, so if she does not follow the plan I made for you two, that is on you."

"Not fabulous."

Ratio took out a map of the city from his drawer, and laid it out on his desk, "WYVERN may appear strong, but they are more vulnerable than you think. You need to get rid of their most prominent allies: Genesis Orphanage, Belladonna, and The Luminos, which I reccomend you start with since, considering your addiction for gambling, it will be the easiest for you."

"The Luminos... That's a casino in the south of the city, no?" Aventurine asked, his tone serious, "I heard it's just a big scam... Only idiots would go there."

"Correct," Ratio nodded, "and for once, you aren't one of these 'idiots'.

"The owner of The Luminos, Mr. Corneo, plans to hold a gambling tournament tomorrow night. It is but another big scam, but with your ridiculous luck... Who knows?"

"Heh... Is that a challenge?" Aventurine smirked. Ratio merely stared at him uninterestedly before tapping on a spot on the map where The Luminos is located.

"Do whatever you need to do to end them, and once you're done, come see me again."

"What the heck?! This isn't the price we agreed on!" Y/N yelled, slamming her first on her employer's desk, "you said a million credits for stealing this jewel! This— This is half of that!"

"No, this is exactly the amount we agreed on," her employer smiled slyly, "500,000 credits. It's mentioned in our contract—"

"Bullshit!" Y/N argued, standing up from her seat, "the contract said a million! Cough it up before I—!"

The female's eyes widened when one of her employer's bodyguards aimed his gun at the side of her head.

"A slight correction, Y/N," her employer tsked, "you take your 500,000 credits and leave before I kick you out with zero pay."

"Tch... You bitch..." Y/N gritted her teeth. Her employer smiled, pushing the pouch of credits over to her.

"I have no more need for you. Thank you for your service, Revolver."

"Tch, stupid rich people..." Y/N grumbled as she entered her apartment, tossing her pouch of credits up and down, "500,000 credits my ass... Why do they always find the need to do this—"

"Hello, Y/N!"

Out of shock, Y/N whipped out her pistol and pulled the trigger. Aventurine quickly rolled to the side to dodge the bullet, making it pierce her worn out couch instead. The blonde male stared at the bullet hole with wide eyes, then looked at Y/N, "why did you shoot?!"

"Fuck, Kava!" Y/N yelled, "how did you get inside?!"

"Oh, I have my ways."

Y/N groaned, dropping her pouch of credits on her dining table, "way to mess up my already-ruined day."

"Why? What happened?" Aventurine stood up, eyes seeming worried.

"My employer scammed me," Y/N grumbled, grabbing a can of soda from her fridge, "but enough about me. Why are you here?"

"Ratio gave me a gist of what to do," he answered, "we're going to The Luminos tomorrow night. They're having a gambling tournament, and I'll be sure to crush them by participating in it."

"The Luminos? That's the casino that scams people, isn't it?" Y/N raised a brow, cracking open her soda.

"Yeah. And tomorrow, I'll be doing all the work. Well, most of it," Aventurine grinned, "you just follow me, and be prepared for any sudden fights."

Y/N stared at him for a second as she took a sip of her soda, then shrugged, "sure then. Why not?"

"Lovely," Aventurine hummed before looking around, "by the way, do you have any SoulGlad?"

Y/N stared at him with an 'are you serious' look, "you're asking someone who lives in a run-down apartment for SoulGlad? What, do I look like a five-star bar?!"

Aventurine blinked twice, then grinned, "maybe."

"... That's it. Get out of here."

"W-wait, I'm sorry!" Aventurine held his hands up and laughed nervously, stepping back with each step Y/N took towards him, "c'mon, Y/N!"

"Nope, nope, out you go," she shooed him away.

"Okay, okay, I'll see myself out," Aventurine walked towards the door, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven."

"Okay," Y/N waved her hand dismissively.

"Wear something nice."

"I don't have something nice."

"I'll prepare you something nice," Aventurine smirked, "stay at home and expect a delivery tomorrow at twelve."

"Hey, you don't get to tell me what to do!" Y/N argued, but Aventurine waved his hand dismissively as he exited her apartment.

"Bye bye, Y/N!"

Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes. She was definitely not excited for tomorrow.

Taglist (open) : @tainted-artist4161 @arxxq @arisha128

(Bold : can't tag ;-;)

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail au #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #kakavasha #kakavasha x reader

36 notes · View notes

melanieph321 · 11 months

Note

Hiii💙 can u write some fluff for Ruben and reader. Something about them going for the first time in Portugal together and her meeting his parents or goin on vacation. Whatever u like bestie 💙 thank u in advance 🫶🏻

I tried 😅

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Parents

Enjoy!

"What if they hate me because I can't cook."

"You can cook."

"No Ruben, you can cook. I can eat."

It would be your first time visiting Rubens family in Portugal. No big deal according to Ruben, however when you asked him how many girlfriends he had introduced to his parents before, his answer made you even more anxious.

"So I'm the first girlfriend you've ever introduced to your parents."

"Jupp." He said, eyes still glued to the movie they were showing on the airplane.

"But you're 26?" You frowned.

He shrugged. "I haven't had that many girlfriends."

"But you have had other girlfriends than me before, right?"

Ruben sighed. "Yes baby, but none that I liked enough to introduce to my parents."

"Oh."

He turned his head, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. "No pressure." He smiled.

"Right, no pressure."

Landing in Portugal, you took a taxi from the airport to Rubens parents home.

"Don't your parents know that we're coming?" You asked. You were already anxious enough.

"They do, I just don't want to put them up for too much work you know."

Great, you thought. Perhaps they were expecting you and Ruben to do the cooking too.

"We're here." Ruben said as the taxi parked in front of a Spanish villa just by the beach.

"Ruben this is so sweet." You admired the neighborhood whilst Ruben unloaded your suitcases from the car. He then shouted at the top of his lungs. "Mamãe e Papai chegamos!"

"Ruben." You hissed. But froze at the sound of dogs barking. The door to the villa opened with two dogs sprinting out of the house, along with a man and a woman.

"Ruben!" The woman exclaimed.

"Mamãe!"

He ran to embrace her. His father on the other hand looked to you.

"Is that her?"

Ruben turned his head then smiled seeing what his father was referring to. "Yes Papai. That's her."

"Y/N!" His dad exclaimed.

"Hello." You waved.

"How nice to finally meet you." He said, stepping down from the poarch. So did Rubens mother. The two of them ambushed you with a unexpected group hug.

"Welcome to the family." They said.

Behind them Ruben laughed. "Stop it you two, or you'll scare her away."

"Scare her, never." His father said, holding you arms length. "Although she does look a little frightened. Is everything alright chinchilla?"

"Um..." You were embarrassed that they'd noticed. "No...or yes. It's just that..."

"Yes honey you can tell us?" Rubens mother reassured.

"It's nothing really, it's just...."

"Y/N?" Ruben said concerned, but just as he moved towards you the dogs that had ran down the street came running back.

You let out a low shriek, quick to hide behind Rubens back.

"Y/N?" He frowned

"Honey I don't think she likes the dogs." Rubens father said, a slight bitterness to his voice.

"It's not that..." You said, really embarrassed to be speaking to them whilst taking cover behind Ruben. "I was chased by a few dogs when I was little. I guess I never got over the fear of them."

"I see." Rubens father said. He and Rubens mother grabbed the dogs by their collars, leading them back into the house.

"Ruben show her your room will you." They said, not bothering to show you around their lovely home first. Your anxiety kicked in. Rubens parents probably hated you now for fearing their pets.

"You never told me that you were scared of dogs."

"Well I was hoping I'd never have to. It's too embarrassing."

You and Ruben were locked in his childhood bedroom the rest of that morning. You needed to freshen up after the flight and you still felt like hiding your face from Rubens parents after your embarrassing first encounter with them.

"It's not that I don't like dogs, I just never gotten used to having them around."

"Hey, I get it." Ruben said. It was a relief not having to explain too much for him to be on your side. His parents on the other hand.

Ruben came up behind you were you stood by the bed, unpacking your clothes. "I would be scared of dogs too if they'd chased me around whenI was young."

"You would?" You dropped everything and turned around.

Ruben nodded his head. "I would."

His arms went to wrap around your waist, pressing you to his body.

"Would you mind explaining this to your parents in Portuguese. Perhaps then they won't hate me." You said.

"Y/N, they don't hate you. They just got to know..."

There was a knock on the door.

"Ruby?"

"Yes Pai?"

Rubens father poked his head through the door. He blushed a little seeing you and Ruben hold each other the way that you did. "Oh sorry." He said.

"What's up Papai?"

"Your mother and I have invited some neighbors and friends for a BBQ later. Would you mind helping me set everything up with the grill? Your chinchilla can accompany your mother into town. I think she's stopping by the shop."

"Sure Papai." Ruben said.

Only you noticed that his father had refused to meet your eyes or adress you by your name. Going into town with Rubens mother would probably be worse.

To your surprise his mother owned a little dress shop in town. Your love for fashion kicked in being around such elegant ensemble of fabrics, along with beautiful dresses that had been handmade by Rubens mother.

"Would you like to try this piece. I'm sure it would suit you well. " She said, noticing how you've been eyeing a colorful summer dress.

"I would love to." You said, but only because you didn't dare to say no.

Rubens mother had to fit you into the dress by hand, making a few arrangements with the seam as you stood on a stool with your arms stretched out like Jesus Christ.

"There." She said, finishing up the final touches.

"Thank you Mrs Dias."

"Don't call me that." She chuckled. "I am Mamãe to you."

"Really?"

"Of course I am."

Just then two women entered the dress shop. They looked around for attendance but stopped and gasped at the sight of you.

"Que linda ela é." (How beautiful she is)

"Olha esse vestido." ( Look at that dress)

"Senhoras!" Rubens mother greeted them. The women had a quick chat with her before turning back to you.

"A namorada de Ruben, você diz?" (Rubens girlfriend you say?)

"Si." Rubens mother nodded. "Ela é bonita, no?" (Isn't she beautiful?)

You understood enough Spanish to understand what they were saying in Portuguese. What they said left you with a warm feeling in your heart.

Rubens mother wouldn't let you take off the dress, insisiting you'd wear it to the BBQ

"Y/N?"

The backyard to the Villa was now full off people you didn't know. Ruben had been standing by the grill, flipping meat when he saw you coming.

"You look..." His reaction to the dress was the same as the two women in the shop.

"Ela é bonita, no?" Rubens mother said, coming up behind you.

"Muito bonito." Said Rubens father, poking his head up from behind the grill. In his hand he held a piece of steak which he whistled for the dogs to come and grab.

"Papi." Ruben sighed. Perhaps he knew that the dogs coming around would make you anxious.

Rubens father however, handed the piece of meat to Rubens mother who took your hand in hers. "They need to greet you." She said, pulling you towards the dogs.

Your hand trembled a little as they started sniffing it and with the piece of steak in your hand they started licking you, which made you chuckle.

"There, now you're family." Rubens mother smiled. Rubens father did the same. "We're all family now."

You look to Ruben who looked to you.

"Welcome to the family." He said.

#fanfiction #man city #manchester city #ruben dias #love and desire #request #requested #football x reader #football imagine #ruben dias imagine #football angst #footballer x reader

194 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year

Note

Maybe one where fem reader basically is nice and friends with Kodak since childhood like hina except she ends up dating kisaki and ends up accepting his proposal

Fluff to nsfw

Sub reader plz

Someone Out There: Kisaki Tetta x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.1k

tw: smut

masterlist

"Kisaki," Takemichi murmurs, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "There's someone out there for you. Don't worry."

"When will we meet?" Kisaki wonders, looking over his shoulder. Takemichi simply shrugs and says he isn't sure, which makes Kisaki feel deflated.

"It'll happen when you're least expecting it."

As he kicks along the concrete, dirt flies up in small clouds. It's a welcome distraction from the thoughts plaguing his mind when he sees Takemichi and Hina together. Kisaki huffs a long breath, then looks up at the bright sky. The sun is unobscured by clouds, and a slight wind picks up his hair and tosses it around a little.

"Hey, Kisaki!" The familiar voice of a friend makes Kisaki look around, and when he sees you waving at him from afar, he offers you a wave in return.

"What are you doing here, y/n?" He's standing on an empty lot - one where he usually sits and thinks without being disturbed - but seeing you come up the path toward him makes Kisaki feel warm inside.

"I brought you some snacks," you offer, taking your backpack off your shoulders and opening it deftly. "I see you sitting here all the time from the apartment and thought you'd like something to eat while you think."

Kiskai stiffens, frowning only a little while you surf around in your bag. "You watch me come here?"

"Well," you begin, looking up but still fishing around. "It's not on purpose. My room has a window, and I tend to stare outside most of the time..." When you finally find the snack, your hand clasps around it and brings it out of the bag. "Here!" Kisaki reaches for the item and finds that it's a smushed taiyaki.

"Thanks," he murmurs, and you pull out one for yourself. You grab your backpack and sit on the ground in your overalls and street shoes, looking up at him curiously while you unwrap your treat.

"So, whaddya think about when you're out here?"

She's interested in what I think about. Kisaki unsteadily begins his yarn about the things he thinks about, and you listen, fully engrossed in his many complicated and peculiar ponderings.

Kisaki has never really felt a deep connection with a girl before.

Scratch that, had.

He never had felt a deep connection with a girl before. But as he sinks to one knee and peers up at you - looking at you almost exactly like you did twelve years ago - he feels the connection tenfold.

"Y/n," Kisaki murmurs before clearing his throat. "It's been an amazing ten years with you. I don't think I would have spent them any other way than by your side. Even if, somehow, there was a way to time travel... I wouldn't change a thing about us." Your eyes get misty as he adjusts his foot, trying his best to keep steady in the same empty lot you'd spent years hanging out in. "Loving you has always felt predestined. I hope you'll say yes because I want you to be my wife and because you feel the same about me."

You cover your mouth with one hand, tears sliding down your cheeks. "Yes," you croak softly. "Yes. In every timeline, yes." Kisaki - with trembling fingers - places the ring on your hand and smiles back at you. You both burst into a round of raucous laughter before you pull him in for a deep, longing kiss. "I love you."

"I love you even more," Kisaki whispers, kissing you again and again.

It wouldn't be a revival of memories if Kisaki didn't pull you behind the closest building and kiss you on the mouth one more time before doing something you'd done plenty of times in your younger years.

"You think we'll get caught?"

"We were so good at not getting caught before," Kisaki replies, undoing his belt with haste and kissing down your neck. "I'm sure we've still got it."

"Eight years can change so much," you quip, but Kisaki simply thefts your leg up and anchors your underwear to the side with firm fingers.

"Bet it won't change how good I feel inside of you..." It doesn't take long for Kisaki to ease his cock inside of your wet pussy, dragging his length against your walls agonizingly slow. You shudder as he pulls back, then moan when he pushes in one more time.

Your lips urge him to move faster, and Kisaki obeys eagerly. The brick wall doesn't even chafe anymore, you note. It's just like the old days when you'd sneak off to meet with Kisaki after school and homework. He'd always make sure you'd keep up with your grades, or your little steamy sessions would turn into study sessions. Sometimes, even those became steamy sessions, but trying to make out in a library wasn't as easy as fucking behind the local pawn shop.

The straps on your sundress droop as Kiskai fucks you, his brow furrowed and his focus solely on pleasure. He holds one hand above you on the brick wall, but the other is holding your leg up, giving him more leverage.

"Tetta," you whine, but Kisaki only looks up and smirks. "Tetta, I love you so much..."

"I know, baby," he coos, kissing your lips. "I know. But you've gotta be a little quieter, okay?"

You nod, looping your other leg around his waist. Kisaki grunts, his cock deepening inside of you. Once he's found his footing and perfected his pace, Kisaki doesn't let you have a break, not even for a second.

"That's it," he grunts in your ear. "Your pussy's sucking me right in. You know that, pretty girl?"

"Yeah," you whimper, and Kisaki's hands move to your hips. "Cum in me, Tetta." The request is met with a sloppy thrust, then he keeps going at his pace, trying not to give in too quickly. You run a hand down his back, trailing your fingers over his suit jacket. "We don't need to worry now that I'm your fiance."

"You might get--"

"I know," you counter, smiling into his neck. "I want to."

"Oh, fuck," Kisaki groans, suddenly spilling his cum inside of you. He pulses once, twice, three times, then tries to find his balance. "You almost sucked the soul out of me." The hyperbole makes you giggle, and Kisaki rests his head on yours easily, panting.

"I'd just add it to my 'Kisaki Collection'," you tease.

"You've got my heart, my body, my mind... You might get my soul if you keep at it."

"Challenge accepted," you reply cheekily, then kiss your fiance one last time. "I'm definitely going to win, too."

#tetta kisaki x reader #kisaki tetta x reader #kisaki tetta smut #tetta kisaki #kisaki tetta #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut

282 notes · View notes

storiesbyjes2g · 3 months

Text

3.77 Un-Invite

Good thing Sophia and I weren't fancy sims, because I could have thought of a dozen better ways to celebrate our engagement than eating at a casual restaurant down the street from my mama's house to escape her being extra. She would have been thrilled to dog sit for a few extra hours if we had decided to make a big splash and go fancy. However, it didn't make sense for us to leave town, so we opted to go to Viviana's...the same Viviana's where I first sorta kinda met Yasmine. I didn't tell Sophia she worked there because I didn't want to dampen the evening, but I definitely walked inside, cautiously looking around and hoping she was off that day. But there was nothing to fear, even if she showed. We had already handled our business. If she wanted to be messy, that would be on her. Still, I hoped she wasn't working.

Sophia, on the other hand, had no reason to suspect a surprise appearance and was grinning from ear to ear.

"This is such a nice restaurant!"

"Yeah, I like it too. This became our place when we moved here."

"I love how it's so trendy and modern, but I still feel comfortable being here dressed like this."

Even though I hoped we would not run into Yasmine, I knew she would turn up; I felt it in my bones. I buried my head in the menu and must have read it 17 times because I didn't want to see it coming. But eventually, I heard her voice.

"Welcome to Vi...oh..."

Sophia looked up, and I saw that flash of surprise that hit her face. It morphed into confusion, then suspicion. Yasmine looked more embarrassed, but still ready to hold her own if Sophia wanted to take her there. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I had no idea what went on in either of their heads, but if I could have backed away slowly, I would have. They were like two cats circling and sizing up each other. Who would strike first? Of course, I didn't expect a fight to break out, but I honestly had no idea what to expect. At the club that night, Sophia surprised me when she casually interrupted us. I never thought of her as territorial. To be honest, I thought it was kinda hot. But she wasn't a nasty woman, and we were in Yasmine's workplace, so I knew they'd eventually snap out of it. And they did.

"Umm..." Yasmine hesitated and fidgeted with the notepad in her hand. "I can go get someone else if you-"

"Don't be silly," Sophia said, brushing her off. "We're all adults here."

I exhaled. Yasmine smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, we are. I'd like a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup but..."

She explained exactly how she wanted the sandwich to be: grilled long enough to be very crispy and brown, but not so much that it's hard and scratches the roof of her mouth. Yasmine got a kick out of that, and I did too. I watched her in amazement, not about the sandwich, but how gracefully she handled awkward situations. Mama was 1000% spot on when she said I chose well.

I ordered bangers and mash, and we both got a Sunset Valley. After Yasmine repeated everything back to us, including Sophia's highly specific notes, she surprised us both.

"That's a nice ring," she said with a beautiful smile.

She didn't smile much, but when she did, it was a nice treat. Was I still allowed to say that?

"Thank you so much," Sophia said.

"Congratulations," she said. "You don't mess around, huh?"

"I knew she was the one. Why wait? But thanks, Yasmine. I really appreciate that."

"I hope it's okay to say this," she began.

Everything in me tensed up again.

"You're so lucky. I never really had a shot, but when I thought I did, I wasted it. I wish y'all the best."

I exhaled. I think Sophia did, too.

"That's so kind of you to say," she said. "Thank you."

"I'll be back in a bit," Yasmine said and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Well, that was nice of her," Sophia said.

"It was."

"She can't come to the wedding, though."

I chuckled.

"I wouldn't dare ask you that. Speaking of the wedding...are looking you looking to have a huge shindig?" I asked.

"Not really. But I don't want it to be so small that we have to labor over whom to un-invite. We should invite whoever we want."

"I was thinking the same thing, though I don't have many to invite."

I thought about Dub. We had only known each other for about 24 hours, but he was already one of my closest friends. He had a secured spot on my guest list, and I tacked on a plus one in case he and Maia had some serious talks on the train. I wanted to meet her.

"What about you?" she asked. "Do you have a dream wedding?"

"Nah, not really. I don't care where it is or what we do, as long as you, my parents, and my sister are there. Oh, and a huge cake. Gotta have a nice cake."

"I mean, is it really a wedding without a nice cake?"

I chuckled. She and I were always on the same page, and it was beautiful.

"Exactly."

"I would love a beach wedding," she said. "That's my only real preference."

"Then a beach wedding it is."

I took a moment to comb through my thoughts really consider if I'd been looking forward to anything in particular, especially since I was allowed to have an opinion, heh. Mama was right about one thing. I was a simple and adaptable guy, so I honestly didn't have any must-haves or deal breakers.

"Do you think we'll have time to do all the pre-ceremony stuff, like the parties and dinners?" I asked.

"Listen," she said in a sweet yet firm tone, "I know you're a dutiful son, but this is our wedding. If you want to do all those things, we'll make time!"

A different server arrived with our food, and Sophia celebrated her perfectly grilled sandwich. As we were both starving, we seized the opportunity to get a few bites in before continuing our conversation.

"Speaking of time," she began, "your mom asked one question I'd been considering. How would you feel about starting our family right away?"

"I wouldn't mind that."

She smiled and seemed very relieved.

"I'm glad... Time to tell your friends in the purple box goodbye!"

I quickly swallowed my food before I choked to death from laughing at her. Forget surviving our relationship. I needed to survive the engagement!

This conversation was brought about by this mod!

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #yasmine angel

34 notes · View notes

zegrvshvghes · 11 months

Text

No amount of alcohol in my system could make me forget you- VD29

Part 1/3

It was cold outside, and I was feeling numb from the weight of the world. My friends had left me at the bar, and I had no idea where I was or how to go home. I mumbled a list of swear words as I walked shakily down the street. I jerked myself to a stop, realizing that I was lost. That sudden realization hit me hard, and I leaned against a brick wall to steady myself before I fell over. Just then, I saw the neon sign for a hotel nearby, the name of which I couldn't recall. Making my way inside, I paused at the reception for a while before trudging down the hall to the lift.

Thank god it was empty when I exited on the sixth floor. I felt very disoriented, so I relied on my intuition until I saw a door that was left ajar. I entered and made my way to the bed, allowing myself to sink onto it, feeling the softness of the sheets. As I nestled myself deeper, I noticed that the room's heating wasn't working while the window was left open, making the room freeze me to the bone. So with a chattering set of teeth, I dared to walk over and close that window.

I was so drunk that none of this made much sense, but it all felt like a weird waking dream. I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the blankets and fall asleep in this unknown bed. I laughed at myself, and then I broke into tears when I couldn't forget about my problems.

I was surprised to see a man come in, a man I immediately recognized as Vince Dunn. "Hey, who are you?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding.

I whirled around, shuddering with cold and then embarrassment as he caught me off guard. I took one look at him, stunned for a moment before stuttering, "I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come in here. The window was left open, and the heat wasn't working, and I couldn't think… I'm just so cold."

Vince looked startled. "Why didn't you call the front desk? Or just leave a note?"

"I didn't have my phone. I must’ve lost it on the way here and I wasn't thinking," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm really sorry. I'll just… I'll go."

"No, no," Vince said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?"

I shook my head, turning away to hide my face. "It's nothing. Just… stupid stuff."

"Can I help?" Vince asked, concern written on his face.

I snorted, wiping away my tears. "No, I don't think so."

We stood there in silence for several minutes, and I began to feel uneasy. I was nervous and embarrassed, and I wanted to leave before Vince had to kick me out.

But then he spoke again. "You know, you're welcome to stay. I mean, if you're really cold and don't have anywhere else to go. I have an extra blanket, and I can order some room service."

I looked at him in surprise. "Really? You'd let a stranger stay in your hotel room?"

Vince shrugged. "You don't seem like a dangerous person. And, I don't know, I just have a feeling that you need someone right now."

I was touched by his kindness, and I nodded my head in agreement. "Thank you," I whispered hoarsely.

With that, Vince made his way to the phone, calling for room service, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling grateful and confused. This famous hockey player was being so kind to me, even though he had no reason to. I wondered what his life was like, what he did outside of hockey.

When Vince returned, he had a tray of food, piled high with sandwiches, fruit, and a pitcher of water. He set the tray down on the table in front of me, and then he poured us each a glass of water.

"I hope you like sandwiches," he said with a smile.

I nodded, gratefully piling a sandwich high with meat and cheese. We ate in silence for a while, but it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, almost like we had known each other for years.

It wasn't until after we finished eating that Vince spoke up again. "So, what's your name?"

I blushed, realizing that we had been talking for a while already and he didn't know my name. Sticking out my hand, I introduced myself

Vince took my hand, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, I'm Vince."

We continued to talk, sharing stories about ourselves and our lives. I learned that Vince was more than just a hockey player; he was also an artist in his free time. I was intrigued by that, asking him more and more questions about his art.

Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the dawn was slowly creeping into the sky outside. I yawned, resting my head against Vince's shoulder.

"Are you tired?" he asked, glancing down at me.

I nodded. "Yeah, a little bit. I should probably go. "

“Where?”

“I can find a place” I explained.

Vince looked disappointed. "Oh. Okay."

But then he leaned in closer, and I could feel his breath on my face. My heart was beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears. And then, before I knew it, Vince was kissing me.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, one that seemed to go on forever. I melted into it, my arms wrapping around Vince's neck as he held me tightly. It was just a simple kiss, but it was so full of love and warmth that I felt like my heart was going to burst.

When we pulled away, I was breathless. "Wow," I whispered, feeling a smile spread across my face.

Vince grinned down at me, cupping my face in his hands. "Yeah," he said. "Wow."

And then we were kissing again, our bodies pressed close together as the sun rose outside. It was a beautiful, magical night, and even though we had just met, I felt like I had known Vince for a lifetime.

As I fell asleep in his arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of something special. And even though I was still lost and confused, I felt like I had found a home in Vince's embrace.

#hockey #nhl #vince dunn #vince dunn x reader #kraken

111 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

GIRL P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins (Younger Jack Navy Years)

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet

I sat on my bed inside my cabin and tossed my lucky coin between my fingers my book in hand tried to get this damn reading done but it wasn't exactly going well. A dirty grimy head pops around the door, "You comin'?" Mick asked with a wide enthusiastic smile, "No thanks," I told him, "Jack. Come on." He whined as he leant on the door frame, "Don't be borin'," "I'm fine being boring," I shrugged, "Yeah, and I ain't. Come on! I'll buy ya a drink?" "I'm fine Mick really," "When did ya last get your sorry blonde butt off this boat?" "…uhhh…" I honestly didn't remember, "When did ya last have some beer that weren't watered down?" "You think it isn't at the tavern?" "It'll be less watered down," "… Maybe six months," "We've been at sea longer than that ya lil shit," "Then I don't know," "When was the last time ya even sniffed a girl?" "uhh… I think I saw a girl last time we docked, don't think I was close enough to sniff her though…" "Jack, let's go. walk or I shove ya." "Fine," I rolled my eyes and set my book down, "Yes! Come on I'll buy ya a drink," he said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder so I couldn't get out of this, "Where are we going then?" "Ahh there is this amazing place me and the boys know just down the street we'll be plenty close to the ship, the drinks are strong, the pies are full and the girls…. are gorgeous," He explained as he led me up though the ship, "And trust me ya'll be close enough to do more than sniff 'em, Jack," "Ohh Eerrr…" "What?" "Nothing I just uhhh… I don't think I'll take up on the girls," "Ohh? No?" He asked, "They have boys too?" "No. No, I just…" "Wait," he smirked, he fully stopped as we got on deck and turned to me with this smirk, "Jack?" He smirked as he narrowed his eyes and I just stayed silent sheepishly, "… when did Grimm bring you on? How old were ya?" "…14." I gulped as I prayed he wasn't going to catch on, but his eyes lit up.

"And you're an anti-social little shit ya never come off the ship with us? "Yeah…" "so…" "No." "Oh my god…" "Don't." "You're a- "Don't! Say it!" "No… no… ya can't… you're a-" "Don't. Say. It. Mick." "Okay… okay, our little secret," he laughed, "Okay, thank you." I nodded, "let's just go for a drin-" I began, "Jack's a Virgin!" Mick yelled at full volume which made everyone stop and look at me, "Thanks, Mick," I sighed, "You're welcome," he smirked, At that moment everyone else still on the ship banded together and forced me off the ship, I knew I wasn't getting out of this I could have weaselled out with just Mick but I knew I didn't have a choice now. They all but dragged me down the street all while making jokes at my expense until we reached a little hole in the wall Traven 'The Maidens View' and I was kicked inside. Everyone found somewhere to sit and I tried to hide in the corner but Mick forced me to sit with him at the bar. Mick bought me a drink as I looked around, the place was clean, tidy the scent of beer and smoke was in the air, and I admit the girls were… pretty. Honestly, they didn't need to be I can't even remember the last time I was this close to a girl. Everyone made jokes at my expense and tried to get me interested in one of the girls but I was too blushy and embarrassed to even talk to them. "Come on! ya, pick. Anyone you want. me and Sam are going in," Mick laughed as he sipped his drink,

"What?" I blushed, "we'll pay for it come on it's your first," Sam chuckled as he shoved my shoulder, "I don't know…" I said sheepishly, "Come on, any of them take ya fancy? if not we can go down the street there are a hundred whores places like this." Mick explained, I sighed and for the first time, I actually looked at the girls rather than merely being blown away by them, none of them… really seemed all that interesting, "No," I shrugged, "No? alright, we'll finish up and take you somewhere else." Sam laughed, I nodded as I had some more of my drink kinda half hoping I could keep bar popping with them until they were too drunk to remember about all this and honestly I didn't much like any of the girls here they all seemed like… I don't know, like when you look at an old bed and you can just tell how many other people have laid in it and it just makes you… not wanna lay on it for fear of it breaking, or being gross. But… unfortunately, I stopped short as I glanced up across the tavern and saw a girl, she couldn't have been much older than me in a little sage green dress that she adjusted up her shoulder where it had fallen down her arm, her hair in a sweet braid wrapped around her head, she came down the stairs and grabbed some tankards that she began to take to tables. She was very cute, quite pretty, and… had a little bit more of a refined way about her I guess. the unfortunate part is that as I noticed her pretty much everyone noticed that I noticed her and began their jokes and playful encouragement.

And before I even had time to attempt to protest Mick and Sam were talking to the bartender and paid him. So… I'm not getting out of this. She finished up with the drinks and returned to the bar setting her tray down, where the bartender spoke to her and she nodded. "Which of you was it?" The bartender asked, "This strapping lad here." Mick laughed giving my arm a playful punch, She nodded and smiled as she came and stood in front of me, she offered her hand and for a moment I was too nervous to move, but I took her hand and let her lead me up towards the stairs as I heard everyone from the ship encouraging and making jokes at me, "Take good care of him!" Mick yelled as she took me up the stairs and into a little room with her.

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #doctor jack dawkins #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #jackdawkinsartfuldodger #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldodgerjack #theartfuldogger

27 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 8 months

Note

You're welcome! Thank you for taking the time to reply my comment! I agree with your thoughts about Larry! I definitely see him being a traditional man, he wants to make her happy while she's happy being with him, how he shows affections, and he would try despite that! Can I request for Larry & Waitress Reader continuation now? I want to see their date 😊

Yes you may!

This is a continuation of Larry X waitress reader if you have not seen the previous posts

Part 1🔞

Part 2

This is part 3!

Please go read them before reading this one.

Thank you!

This is becoming by far, my favorite little mini-series. I hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

The reader is presumed female.

The exhaustion from having just gotten off work was replaced with excitement this being your first date ever. As you step out the shower wrapping a towel around your naked body you contemplate on what you should wear.

Would he like dresses? Or something to show off your legs or body? Your face felt hot, putting your head in your hands and shaking the embarrassment of you thinking about those onyx eyes staring at you with pure love and infatuation. You want to appeal to him, make his heart skip a beat like he does to you.

Your mind started to drift from outfits to where he would take you. Really, you don't care where he takes you. The simple fact that he agreed to take you anywhere made you kick your feet and squeal like you were a lovestruck teenage girl again.

Ultimately you decided picking something that flows in the wind with colors that make your eyes pop. Before glancing over at your phone that's that idly on your dresser.

Larry and you had exchanged contact numbers so he could contact you to meet up but you had gotten cold feet a few times when you tried to text him first.

But when you hear your phone go off, you don't dash to that device faster, staring at the bright screen with your eyes wide, silently screaming when you see the special name you picked for him in your contacts. His first message to you.

'Are you ready? Meet me on main street Medali.'

Such a normal text for an exceptionally ordinary man you wouldn't have it any other way.

...

You're finally going crazy.

Larry nervously loosened his tie, only to tighten it straight for the third time. For the first time in his life, he was early, and not only that, he was really going all out instead of his usual black suit he was wearing.... light gray.

A bold choice, but he was willing to try something new for the first date he had in a decade. He made sure the suit had nothing sticking to it no komala fur, no Trophius leaves, and no Staraptor feathers

Speaking of his date, his eyes widened when he saw your heart skipping a beat. Larry, no, he didn't know much about dressing nicely aside from a standard suit and tie, but he knew that what you were wearing suited you and only added to the long list of things he loved about you.

Though he couldn't quite put it into words he found himself speechless when you stood before him.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly, your eyes twinkling like stars breaking him out of the trance they put him in. He gazed up and down trying to find some way to compliment you it's what you deserve after all

"Urm... you're outfit, Its... very... you."

He panicked when he saw your face droop.

"oh is it not good?"

"N-no, I-i didn't mean it wasn't good I meant that it's a very cute because I think you are... cute."

His awkward fumbling seem to perky back up, his face turning red at the pitiful attempt at flirting. His ex was right; he needs to get better at flirting.

Ultimately, he decided for that walk in the park. He didn't think he would mind either way, but he didn't like the idea of taking you out to another restaurant after you just got off of work. And besides, the only restaurant he knew locally was the Treasure Eatery, and knowing your coworkers, he had a feeling that their privacy wouldn't feel very private if he took you there.

Not to mention the fact that you work there.

But he did feel a little bad he didn't want to bore you to death even though dating him was kind of exactly what you signed up for.

" I'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind."

Larry apologized has the two of you made your way over to and nearby bench.

"huh? Oh no" you smiled " you're fine actually it's delightful it's been quite hectic at work recently since we're starting to get a bigger influx of trainers and and it's much harder taking on the league with an empty stomach a peaceful walk in the park like this is exactly what I need."

Larry humed in response his lip curving into a small smile a little relieved with your answer "Those monsters, they're working you to your grave." Your eyes widen. Despite Larry's less than expressive voice You knew about the Elite Fours member and your coworker's relationship. That's not only their regular but in some cases, their 'boss' I mean the treasure Eatery doubles as his gym.

" Was that a joke?" You giggled brushing some straight hair out of your face before looking up at him.

" you're surprised?"

You couldn't stop smiling.

" Sorry sorry I just never saw you as the type you always look so serious."

" I guess I'm just full of surprises." Larry said in his monotone voice.

There wasn't much to do at the park, but that was okay. All you wanted to do was be with your date. The conversation you had with him was nice. I saw a side of him that you don't usually see at work, as he would point out different kinds of bird Pokemon and tell you little facts about them.

You admitted to Larry that You're always busy with work, so you never had a Pokemon of your own. Even though you really wanted to buy yourself a Pokeball or two and catch a new friend or just adopt an egg needing a home, you never really got around to it. This was information that Larry would definitely need for later, especially when he asked you what kind of Pokemon you would like to take care of hypothetically, and your answer of something easy and familiar, like a normal type or a flying type, caught his attention. You really were a woman after his own heart.

Before you could make any moves on your date by putting your hand on his or snuggling closer to him, sadly, the date was cut short when the wind started to pick up your date and saw you shudder. He wasted no time. " Are you cold? I could lend you my jacket. And I could take you home. We could always spend some time together another day, perhaps somewhere inside."

You cursed at yourself, damn you Tornadus, but your heart did make you feel toasty on the inside when Larry pretty much confirmed that he would love to take you out again.

" thank you I'd like that."

The two of you continued small talk as he walked you to your apartment you tried not to bombard the poor man with questions but you just couldn't help it you wanted to know more about him especially after that he reminded you that yes he is in fact a gym leader and an elite four member and to you a Pokemonless person were bringing with curiosity.

Larry didn't mind even though that technically he claimed you first. It seemed that after showing you a picture of his Staraptor as a baby, Starly it seemed that his old friend stole you from him.

As you waved goodbye and by the time you close the door in your apartment you realized you still had Larry's jacket on you.

You couldn't help but feel the heat rest to your face, getting a whiff of that cologne you came to love. That's when you saw it: a pink feather sticking to the back of the felt.

Larry didn't seem to mind that his jacket was in your possession, oh, and he answered the culprit that pink feathered his coat with a new picture of a pink bird Pokemon that you've never seen before.

It did give you a reason to go visit him or for him to see you. You already felt nervous from the mear idea.

#larry pokemon #pokemon larry #larry x reader #gym leader larry #elite four larry #Gym leader Larry x reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #fem!reader #a normal date for a normal man what more could you want #pokemon fluff #Sfw #Pokemon #Larry elite 4

59 notes · View notes

luxurychristmaspudding · 2 months

Text

wip wednesday thursday

thank you for the tag bby @janaispunk!!!!!

i'm in such a slump with writing atm, so this is perfect!

step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

watch - follow on from listen (f!reader x joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia)(literally just porn)

‘Couldn’t just - leave you out, daddy,’ you huff against the phone. A low chuckle rumbles through from the other end, and you bite your lip. ‘So this is - what? My consolation prize?’ ‘No,’ you frown, ‘It’s better than that. Better than your hand.’ ‘Better ‘n my hand?’ ‘Yeah, daddy.’ ‘Is it better than you, babygirl?’ You roll your hips at his question, biting back a whine. ‘No, daddy.’ He hums down the line. ‘Sounds like a consolation prize to me, honey.’ You sigh again, louder this time. ‘’S not a consolation prize,’ you groan. ‘Frankie isn’t even allowed to touch me.’ Joel chuckles at you properly this time. ‘You sound disappointed, baby.’ ‘I am.’ He waits. He waits, because he knows. Of course he knows. ‘We watched each other, daddy,’ you breathe. Confessional, dirty. A heat flushes up your cheeks as you tug at your t-shirt, suddenly nervous. ‘Watched?’ he asks, a smile curling the word. Mmhm. ‘Well done, baby,’ he says, ‘I’m impressed. Though a little disappointed it didn’t take you longer to figure out.’ You giggle, and he puffs out a breath before continuing. ‘Santi told me it wouldn't be so fast. Thought it’d take you guys a little while to -’ ‘He thought it’d take Frankie longer to work out,’ you interject. Joel falls silent. ‘He knows Frankie, but not me so well. You should’ve known better.’ Joel laughs again. ‘You’re goddamn right, angel.’

on call (f!babysitter!reader x neighbour!frankie)(idiots in love, when will these fools kiss)

‘Boyfriend?’ You grin at him, licking your teeth. He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘No.’ You shrug. ‘Shame. Is he -’ ‘Ex-boyfriend.’ You gape at him, jaw swinging open as your head swivels between the two men. Frankie isn’t sure whether he should be offended. ‘That’s your ex?’ You stage whisper, and Frankie swats at your arm as you slump against the fence. ‘Yes.’ He grunts. You let out a low whistle. ‘How could I ever compete?’ Frankie doesn't look at you as your words register, something hot and prickly settling at the back of his neck. Benny raises his hand in goodbye before his car peels away from the curb and disappears up the street. When Frankie makes to move towards his front door, you hop the fence and follow him. ‘You were competing?’ is all he can jest back as he leads you inside.

you know me too well - miniseries (f!reader x fwb!frankie) (super steamy and super angsty. deals with post-deployment mental health and being upheld by your best friends)

‘Berlin…’ ‘What?’ You laugh, trying to grab the paper from where he holds it high above your head. He fumbles with the second slip, biting his lip with laughter as you begin to crawl up his body - ‘Pope, give me that -’ ‘And Fish.’ You head whips round to Frankie’s, mouth in a little ‘o’ as everyone starts cheering. Frankie can hear his heartbeat in his ears as Will pushes him up from the couch and Pope kicks you off his lap. You stumble to your feet as he stands, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. His whole body feels hot, and your eyes are wide and wild. ‘Get outta here!’ Benny roars, ‘Your seven minute timer starts… now!’

futureproof - series (f!rockstar!reader x actor!joel) (an unlikely friendship, the talk of the tabloids. how long can a secret stay secret, and how long until you're forced to leave each other alone?)

You hold out a hand to him, a wide grin flashing the white of your teeth, and Joel finds himself stepping forward to take it before he can process what he's doing. Your palms are so soft, even with the callouses. 'Joel Miller.' He says through a shy smile, and your eyes crinkle back at him. 'I know who you are,' you chuckle, 'Come in, sit down. You're welcome to listen.' You squeeze his hand a little before pulling back and leading him into the room, and he's hit with the frightening feeling that he'd follow you anywhere. Your eyes are so full of mischief, of laughter, of friendship. Knowing you would be so easy. So easy Joel almost feels like he already does.

katchi (f!reader x joel miller - no outbreak au) (again, literally just porn)

no snippet - but you and joel go line dancing, he's sore afterwards, you give him an oiled up massage and end up going at it.

these will all be sooooo so smutty. in case that helps at all.

step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

step three: every vote is one minute you put on a timer to work on that fic (ex. 15 votes = 15 minutes of writing)

you have my word <3

no pressure tags (v sorry if you've already been tagged!): @schnarfer @magpiepills @eupheme @swiftispunk @cowgurrrl @joelscurls @hellishjoel

#wip wednesday #tag game

16 notes · View notes

triple-7-heaven · 2 years

Text

Kill Switch II

part 1 a/n: things take a turn on the journey that is motolip and reader insert. surprise appearance, surprise smut, surprise sad; this arc contains.. things that i will not spoil in the tags! pairing: reader x kim lip; words: 3.2k ; categories: loona, kim lip, smut, angst, reader insert, longing, motorcycle romance(lol)(?)

Sunday morning was spent at your favorite café, catching up with your best old lady friend. She was entranced, giving you her undivided attention, even ignoring her sudoku game.

"You stayed out that late with her?" she asked incredulously. You'd just finished up the part about driving her halfway home.

"Yeah, guess we clicked," you said happily.

"You'd better let me know what happens; I've run out of dramas to watch on TV," she said before heading back to the kitchen, leaving you with your latte and racing thoughts.

Should I text her? Is it too soon? Would that be annoying? Does she even want to see me again?

A perfectly timed vibration of your phone snapped you out of it.

[08:44]

jungeuniiie: wyd right now chickenstripper97: at that café i mentioned, wbu?

jungeuniiie: on the way to that café you mentioned ^_^

So she did want to see you again. Thank God... You'd sunk so much time into thinking about her, it'd be a shame for it not to work. The time spent wasn't wasted, either; as it turned out, she was pretty much exactly how you fantasized she'd be. Pretty shy, but willing to talk forever about things she liked, intelligent, talented, and funny. Soon enough, Jungeun walked through the door and headed towards you shyly. She wore a brown leather jacket and her long, blonde hair was down, falling beautifully to her chest.

Don't look too long, don't look too long, don't-

"Do I look good or something?" she asked with her eyebrows upturned.

"O-oh, yeah, you do. Y-your hair's pretty long," you said, and she playfully hit your arm. Her hand rested there for a few seconds too long for it not to mean something. The café owner approached and made a face at you; you shook your head. Hopefully she wouldn't embarrass you.

"Finally found you, huh?" she said. Your face heated up right away.

"Thankfully," Jungeun said. She asked for some coffee and a meal, and you talked about what you'd do next time while you waited.

"Why wait until next time? We're here now, we ought to do something," she said. "It's Sunday, so... Something lazy."

"Wanna watch a movie?" you asked.

"Sure, we can head to your place after this!" she replied.

My place..? I didn't mean at my place..? But I guess if she's okay with it that's fine, but I really meant at the theater, but-

“Hello?” she waved a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry, spaced out,” you said. When she'd finished, the old woman came back and you paid her for Jungeun's meal, who kicked you under the table and pouted. You stood and smiled goodbye to the woman, then opened the door for Jungeun to head out.

"Here, follow me back to mine, okay?" you said. She nodded. The both of you sped down the street, and after each turn you made sure she was still with you; soon enough you made it to your garage. You parked inside and headed up to your apartment, Jungeun close behind. Your heart was racing, you felt sweat forming on your forehead. You weren't sure what this was supposed to mean, but... You tried not to read into it too much. Jungeun eagerly entered your apartment as soon as you opened the door. She looked around the same way she'd looked around your garage, with curiosity, with enjoyment. She wandered over to the window, floor to ceiling and spotless with a view over the city. Her hand hovered over your shelf, scanning albums, books, movies, and settled on one movie in particular. It was a favorite of yours, you knew every line, but you weren't against watching it just one more time.

"You're welcome to sit while I get everything going, want any snacks or drinks?" you asked while you moved about the room. Jungeun carefully sat on your couch.

"Oh, sure, thank you," she said, so you grabbed her a glass and a blanket as well. You flicked off the lights and got the film started. Like at the Bugak Skyway, you were watching her, and she was watching the movie. Thankfully she didn't catch you staring. She didn't move much closer to you throughout the film, and you were too nervous to move any closer to her. The credits rolled.

"I'd never seen it, but I'd always wanted to," Jungeun said. "Weird that you had it on your shelf."

"Coincidence?" you mused. She nudged your leg with hers and giggled.

"Ought to head home. I had a good time, thank you for having me over," she said. You felt sad, but took her down the elevator and opened your garage for her so she could head out.

A hug goodbye maybe? A kiss..?

Jungeun patted your shoulder before pushing off and heading out. Well... It's something. Small thoughts swirled into a hurricane inside your heart on the way back up. What did you think would happen? What did you want to happen? You sat on the couch and played video games for hours before falling asleep with the TV still on.

The week passed with little to say for it. Work, riding, and radio silence. Friday night came around, and you got off work early. Wouldn't be a bad time to walk around downtown and try to get lucky, right?

Neon signs in windows lit the way as couples and groups stumbled down the sidewalk. The buzz of conversation and music playing from each doorway mixed and weaved into a melody of night life that you'd sorely missed after being busy with your chase for the last month. Your eyes fell on plenty of pretty girls, but... The one you wanted wasn't there. Your last message had been sitting on delivered for days. Once again... Give up, or change your strategy? You ducked into a bar and approached the bartender. You didn't drink, but tonight you would; maybe it would be easier. You threw back the drink quickly and left cash on the counter, reemerging into the street. Now feeling warm from your stomach, you continued your stroll with your hands in your pockets. Every face on the street told you a different story. That guy just got dumped, but he's with his friends, so he's trying to act fine. That girl's about to get married, tonight is her last dance with night life. What story did your face tell? If anyone noticed you, the story they'd read on your face was one of someone full of hope but empty of expectation; someone who was one more inconvenience away from being done with it all, whose patience ran out a long time ago, who just wanted to feel seen and heard, but went without either.

A sharp pang through your chest when you saw that long, blonde hair. And indescribable pain when you saw a red-faced Jungeun, laughing, hands on his chest as she was pulled into a club by another man. Your breaths quickened. Your inner voice tried, but failed to form any sort of sentence, any explanation or comfort to yourself. You picked up the pace and returned to where you'd parked your bike. One helmet and jacket later, you turned the key and got going. As you went down the street you cast a glance at the club she'd gone into with that guy. Someone on the sidewalk yelled to you for a rev bomb, and you gave a solemn turn of the wrist. Finally, you could think. Wind rushing past and rumbling below.

It started with denial.

She's just drunk. He's just a friend. It's a one-time thing. They aren't together...

It proceeded with anger.

Did you really think someone like her would be with someone like you? Did you really expect her to be single, looking like that? You're so stupid...

It continued into bargaining.

He's so much taller than you. He's probably rich. His arms and shoulders are much bigger than yours. I bet he has a huge bike and a sports car. She's probably in love with him. If you were just better...

As you rounded a corner, depression.

I'm so useless. Everything I do is a waste of time. Why do I even try anymore? Why should I? Things aren't supposed to work out for me...

But acceptance didn't come. It kept flashing in your mind, the image of her, face tinted by alcohol, shining with sweat under the neon lights, smile so bright and wide, hands all over him. His hands were around her waist... God dammit. What did you really expect? For a moment you sat in your garage, staring down at the kill switch that you didn't have to swat small hands away from tonight. You were on autopilot as you closed the garage door and took the elevator up.

Many hours and many video games later, your phone buzzed. Couldn't be...

[01:34]

jungeuniiie: sorry, busy week... was out with my friends tonight, i feel bad for answering so late! :-/

Her friends... You tried to be the tough guy who didn't answer right away, but that just isn't you.

chickenstripper97: oh no problem haha

jungeuniiie: maybe we could hang out tomorrow night?

You couldn't do it. Too soon.

chickenstripper97: ohh actually having a rough time lately, probably gonna stay in

jungeuniiie: oh okay, no problem. hope you feel better :-(

You shut your phone off and kept playing your favorite game for way too long, distracting yourself. You tossed and turned, dreams and nightmares, sweat and discomfort, all through the night.

Corner store coffee tasted great when you didn't have the willpower to cook breakfast for yourself. You trudged back out to the sidewalk and stood looking at the cars that passed while you sipped on the coffee and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. You killed most of the day at the track after your coffee, and hours of hard leans and near misses got you in the mood for some barhopping, hoping it would take your mind off things. The same street from the previous night, but a different feeling. You scanned the people walking around and selected a bar to start with. You grabbed a drink, then trudged to a couch in the corner so you could survey the room. More stories on faces, more thoughts to get lost in, more... Your vision was blocked by an hourglass figure and perfectly sculpted thighs peeking out from a very short dress.

"Deep in thought?" the woman asked. You slowly lifted your head, eyes passing over the form-fitting plaid dress, cropped leather jacket, dyed blonde hair, and gaudy chokers to finally meet the eyes of the stranger.

"Guess so," you answered. She sat close to you and crossed one leg over the other, then turned to you, drink in one hand, your shoulder running underneath the other. You got chills, but she didn't notice.

"What's wrong, handsome? Get dumped? Fired?" she asked away.

"Getting ahead of yourself, what about my name?" you said smoothly. She laughed and sipped her drink.

"With a face like that, who needs one?" she said. You raised your eyebrow, and she relented, asking sheepishly and nodding at your answer. "I'm Heejin. Never seen you before... Now, back to it. What's got you looking like that?"

"Girl problems, I guess," you said. You fidgeted with the watered-down beverage in your hands, and she got braver with hers. The hand on your shoulder gave a squeeze, and she set her drink down to place the other on your leg.

"Want me to fix them?" she asked. Her eyes dragged over your whole body, back to your eyes. Without giving you time to answer, she kissed you fiercely. Briefly pulling back, she asked: "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you said, and slid your hand over her waist to her back. She smiled into the second kiss and gripped you tighter. Her lips were cold from the drink she'd been sipping, tinged with a light fruity flavor. Her tongue brought the taste of alcohol into your mouth, and you sucked on it hungrily. She hummed quietly as she moved her hand from your chest to take hold of your wrist and guide your hand to her leg, which she was in the process of bringing over your lap to straddle you. Heejin was fully on top of you now, making out with you on the couch in a dimly lit bar, music shaking you to the bone, smell of alcohol seeping into your psyche. Before your hands crept from her legs all the way up to her chest, you stopped yourself.

"Come on," you spoke into her ear. She smiled and got up, holding your hand while you strode to the bar and tossed way too much cash on the counter. The bartender shouted a thank you over the loud music and you stepped out onto the sidewalk with Heejin in tow. You gripped her hand and made your way to your bike; her eyes widened. She watched you pull an extra helmet out of the seat compartment, then stood still for you to slide it over her head. You hopped on and she followed, arms tight around your waist. She held you tighter as you began moving. Soon you were home, stumbling inside, making out in the elevator, fighting to get the key in the door, and finally falling into your bed. Heejin quickly shed her leather jacket and you shed your shirt, your lips latched onto her neck, then her nape, then her collarbones, then even lower. She turned around for you to unzip her dress, then slipped it off to reveal her bare chest; no bra tonight, apparently. She shoved your head lower so you could kiss and suck on her chest, which you did happily. Airy moans made their way to your ears as your tongue swirled around her nipple and you moved to the other, all the while massaging her petite breasts with your hands. Your bulge wasn't a secret at this point, and she squeezed and rubbed you eagerly while you showered her chest with kisses.

A sudden knock on the door. Heejin looked up at you, and you made a confused expression. You placed your hands on her hips to give them slow rubs up and down.

"It's deadbolted, I'm not worried about it," you said. She nodded and brought you back down to kiss you again. The knock on the door nagged at you a bit until your mind was wiped blank by the sensation of soft lips around your cock. You were so lost in thought you didn't notice Heejin taking your pants off. On her knees, she bobbed up and down, and your hands went to her long hair. You took fistfuls, gently, of course, and moved your hips slowly. She took you all the way and gagged, and you lifted her to her feet. You kissed her neck again while you slipped your fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them from her thick thighs. She smirked and stepped out of them, so you took the invitation. You lay her down and kissed her muscled thighs while gently stimulating her clit to get her going, and she rolled her hips and moaned approvingly. You gave a slow swipe of your tongue up the length of her dripping pussy. She tasted fantastic; sweet, sweaty, ready. Your fingers slid into her first, curling at just the right point to feel that rough patch inside of her.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Heejin?" you asked and stood straight up to look down at her tight, muscular body. She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, so you leaned down to kiss her sternum, then teased her warmth with your tip. You thrusted into her quickly, the sensation was irresistible. The slick that soon coated your shaft made it easy to fuck her deeply; you moved in and out of her rapidly, the tip of your cock reaching deep inside of the small girl, poking at her womb over and over again. She moaned uncontrollably with each thrust. You laced your fingers with hers so she could squeeze your hands tightly. "You're so fucking hot," you mumbled in a raspy voice.

"Fuck, ah... So... Big..!" she whimpered with each stroke. She let go of your hand and started rubbing her clit, causing her to tighten even more.

"Shit, Heejin, I'm-" she locked her legs around you and you felt her body shudder intensely when she came. Of course, the tightening and influx of wetness made you cum, too, but you were too drunk on pleasure to think much about it. Oversensitivity yanked you from your delirious state and your eyes snapped open. Heejin was still panting, cum dripped out of her and onto the sheets. A quick kiss on her cheek, then you pulled out and moved to the bathroom. You got a towel to clean up a bit.

"Mm... Could you get me some water?" Heejin asked quietly. You heard her rustling around in her purse. One trip to the kitchen later, you came back to give her the glass, and she tossed back a small pill before finishing off the water and smiling to you when you gave her the towel.

"You're welcome to stay, you know," you said.

"Just a hookup though, right?" she asked.

"Just a hookup," you laughed. As soon as you came down from the euphoria of the sex, everything came flooding back. Jungeun and that man... Ugh. You wondered what she was up to, probably with him. You wished the girl in your bed right now was her, and cursed yourself for your bad habit of trying to get over girls by using other girls. The key word was trying: you weren't over it. It'd take a while, considering how much time you already wasted hoping she could be yours...

Wait, the knock on the door earlier. A neighbor? Curiosity got the best of you, and you threw on some boxers and walked over to the front door. The peephole didn't reveal anything, so you opened it up and looked up and down the hallway. Then, you spotted a small basket on the floor. It seemed to contain some snacks, but you were more interested in something else: the note stuck to the top.

sorry I didn't catch you while you were home :-( i feel so bad for not answering you all week. i hope you're doing okay, and that this can cheer you up a little. we should go out soon!

text me,

jungeun♡

With Heejin in your arms and Jungeun in your mind, you couldn't stop thinking as you lay with your eyes open, staring at the wall in your pitch black bedroom. Did a one night stand with a hot stranger really prevent you from meeting Jungeun at the door..? Why did she go to this length for you? Why is there a heart by her name? What does 'go out' mean? You'd ask for Heejin's perspective in the morning; she was a woman, after all, so she might be able to offer some wisdom on the subject. For now, though, you held her close to you, and fell asleep listening to her quiet breaths.

#loona x male reader #loona x reader #kpop fanfic #loona #loona fanfiction #girl group smut #loona smut #girl group fluff #loona fluff #girl group angst #loona angst #kim lip x reader

282 notes · View notes

oskea93 · 3 months

Text

Keep it to Yourself (2)

✶ DouglasBooth!Nikki Sixx x OC ✶

Warnings: Mention of drug use, cursing. A/N: Thank you so much for the love guys!! I hope you enjoy the 2nd chapter, it's kind of a long one. If you would like to be tagged, just let me know! Gif(@ughmerlin)

Taglist: @fancywasmyname1, @kaitieskidmore1, @xxisxxisxxis, @sparxx27, @cruecifymesixx, @tempt-ress, @a-sia-san, @x-xinenas, @casualcomputerarbiter-blog, @makaelahdelvalle

“Is this some kind of sick joke, Bryant?”

I leaned my head against the payphone door – watching as Nikki filled up his car. “Afraid not.”

Wyatt stayed silent for a moment, my surprising news turning more into a nightmare as the minutes passed. He let out a sigh, “You’re 20 years old – got your whole life ahead of you but you decide to fuck it all up by eloping that idiot.” His usually soothing voice dripped with anger.

It was a total whim – Nikki and I were just sitting around, and he brought up the idea of getting married. We’d been together for a year almost and the thought of marriage never crossed my mind. I didn’t even think Nikki found our relationship to be serious half the time. He had dreams of becoming a rockstar – a wife – the old ball and chain – would only hinder that dream. There was no ring – no getting down on one knee. It was basically you have this one chance to say yes and get it done or it’ll never happen again. We scrounged up enough money to get a marriage license and were married the next day at the courthouse. A random guy from the street was our witness – Nikki buying him a bottle of booze as payment. It wasn’t the fairytale wedding most girls dream of, but it worked for us.

“I thought maybe you would have a change of heart and be happy for us.”

An annoyed laugh rang through the receiver, “Be happy for you – Bryant, you need to be married to this kid like you need a hole in the head. I’ve told you from day one that he wasn’t the one – have you're fun and then leave. You need to be with a man that has structure – someone with a steady income – I don’t give a shit if the guy works on Wall Street or at the gas station on the corner, Nikki is not the man you need in your life.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Uncle Wyatt.” I muttered.

This seemed to piss him off even more – “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I played with the phone cord, unsure of what to say. “It’s just –“

“Just what, Katherine?” His tone aggressive as he used my legal name. “Now that you’re married, you think that you can talk to people however you want? Just remember this little girl-“ He paused. “I’ve known guys like Nikki all my life – Hell, I’ve been one of those guys and I know how they pick one girl, stay for a bit, and then move on to the next thing. Don’t come crying to me when he kicks your ass to the curb when the next little hottie crosses his path...”

I could pick the man out of a sea of people.

His hair was a little longer than I last remember – his clothing changing with the times and trends. The fancy sports-car that the guys purchased for him glistened in the California sun – the sun hitting the red paint just right.

“There she is.” His arms spreading open expecting me to jump right into them for one of his ‘famous hugs.’

“Hey, Doc.” I forced a smile as he pulled me in.

His touch felt more like relief than welcoming – kind of like a forced thank you for coming and saving my ass. “I’ve missed you, kid.”

I pulled away first as he took in my appearance. It’d been almost three years since we’ve seen each other – a lot of things changing in that time. “You look great.” He smiled. “More mature – nothing like that little girl I met backstage.”

“Yeah, well –“I shuffled nervously. “Someone had to grow up and become the adult.”

His eyes locked with mine, squinting as my words coursed through his brain. “May look different but that attitude is still the same.” He pulled my suitcase out of my hand, placing it in the trunk as I placed myself in the passenger seat. I took a couple deep breaths – the reality of what was about to happen finally hitting me. I was cool as a fucking cucumber the whole flight – only worrying that Wyatt would pop up at any second and drag me off the plane by my boots. I didn’t think about what I would do or say when I finally saw Nikki again. I already knew that he wasn’t going to be happy – raging would be more like it.

The thought of if this was a good idea was now creeping into my psyche. Hannah’s warning to watch my moves and have an escape plan just in case he’s bad enough where he tries to harm me played on repeat as Doc drove through the canyon. From the way he was going, Nikki still lived in the same house.

“So-“Doc smiled. “What’s been happening with you lately? Last I heard you were living in South Carolina.”

I glanced at him through my shielded lenses, rolling my eyes. “Just living life.” I was short.

“You got a job?” He continued to press.

“No –“I turned to look at him. “I just live off my good looks and hope old men want a young plaything to leave all their money too.”

His face instantly fell as he glanced at me – my face expressionless as he fumbled to form a sentence.

He chose to end the conversation after that leaving the rest of the journey completely silent. I was somewhat grateful but talking made me forget about my internal thoughts – the ones eating away at my emotions...

“Where are we even going?”

I watched as million-dollar homes passed by as we travelled further into the hills. Nikki remained silent – his eyes hidden behind his dark shades – a stoic expression on his stubbled face. We had been driving for almost 30 minutes – silence taking up most of that time. I could tell from his body language that he was nervous. His body was stiff as he kept both hands on the steering wheel. He was home from the first leg of the Shout at the Devil tour – the guy I had known before tour started was left somewhere on an abandoned highway. Nikki was different – a little distant – more focused on the drugs and booze than before.

Instead of saving the money that was coming in from the shows, he and the rest of the band went on a spending spree – laying thousands down on new cars, expensive clothes, and the finest designer powder they could get their mitts on. It was a nice feeling not to be struggling anymore but Nikki was going through the money like water in the desert. His habit went from a couple bumps here or there to being desperate for the next fix. Shady looking characters were in our apartment every night as he got ready to go out with the guys. They followed him around like a puppy would their owner – Nikki was their client – he had the money, and they had the blow.

I kept glancing at him as he concentrated on the road, “Is there a party up here or something?”

He cleared his throat, slinking further into the leather seat of the Camaro. “No.” His answer simple.

“Then why the hell are we u-“

He stopped the car in front of a large home – the exterior darker than those around. “Welcome home.” His voice flat. I looked between him and the house – confusion written all over my face.

“What?”

“You wanted a house, didn’t you?”

I stayed quiet for a second – trying to process the situation. “Are you trying to tell me you bought a house – this house – and you didn’t bother to ask me how I would feel about that?” I pointed towards the home; my eyes fixed on Nikki.

He ignored the question, driving past the gate that secured the house from the open road. The driveway was long and steep – the house sitting perfectly on the hilltop. It was an open landscape – not many trees and the perfect view of those that lived in the valley.

“Nikki – you can’t be serious right now?” He placed the car in park – turning the engine off before removing himself from the car. I didn’t wait for him to let me out, hastily slamming the door shut as he rounded the passenger side. “Please tell me you didn’t buy this house?”

“You know-“He smiled as he removed his sunglasses – the telltale signs of last night written all over his face. “You bitch about living in a small apartment but yet here you are bitching me out for buying you a beautiful house.”

I raised my hands in the air, “I didn’t ask you to buy me a fucking house, Nikki!”

He rolled his jaw in anger as I vented about how we were supposed to be saving money and not throwing it away on things that we didn’t need or things we could wait for. I was perfectly content in staying in the apartment – hell, it was better than the one he was in when I first met him. I made sure to keep it clean and we shared the rent 50/50. Just because Motley had become a success didn’t mean that I wanted him spending that hard earned money on a house. We had plenty of time to look at houses – a house we would both love – not the first one that had a for sale sign.

“Fine –“His voice low. “You don’t want to the fucking house – “He hastily reached into his shirt pocket fishing out the key before throwing it as hard as he could down the embankment. “Then no one will fucking get the house!”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” My anger exploded as I raced to find the key. He stood behind, leaning against the black hood. I knew it was gonna be like finding a fucking needle in a haystack – the only chance of getting into the house would be to break in...

Doc’s car pulled up the familiar driveway – Nikki’s overzealous purchases sitting in front of the house. “I’ve always hated this house.” I muttered.

“Yeah-“Doc smirked. “Nikki’s made mention of it a time or two.” He placed the car in park – a knowing sigh slipping past his lips. “Ready for this, kid?”

I tucked my lip between my teeth – a nervous habit I had since childhood. “Ready for it like a hole in the head I guess.”

He chuckled at my answer, walking up the stairs ahead of me. The day I left kept flashing in my mind – the way my shoes hit the stone steps – Nikki trying to follow behind but stumbling from the drugs. Doc unlocked the door using his personal key that he had made, telling me that he had keys to all the guy’s houses. Stepping across the threshold showed me just how much he had changed. The once bright living room was now painted in a dark red – black, leather furniture scattered around the room. The house was an absolute mess! Liquor bottles, beer cans, food containers, and clothes littered the living room and kitchen.

“You can’t afford to get him a housekeeper?” My nose turned up at the smell. “This place is a fucking pigsty, Doc.”

He waved me off as he started towards the staircase. From what I could see, all the doors to the rooms were closed – the bedroom we shared being off to the left side. “Let me go see if he’s up and decent.” I nodded my head, looking around in disgust at the mess.

Gold and platinum records lined the walls – older photographs joining here and there. The photos that hung while we were together were nowhere to be found – probably burned and turned to ash. Heavy footsteps sounded as the person descended the stairs – my heart starting to race at the thought of seeing Nikki again.

Doc appeared seconds later, “He’s not here.” He spoke out of breath. “Fucking needles and baggies are lying all over the closet floor – probably got high and left for God knows where.”

I threw my purse on the couch, taking a haphazard seat as Doc began to pace the room.

“When’s the last time you seen him?” His eyes connecting with mine.

He thought about it for a second, “Probably three – four days ago I guess.”

I looked up at the ceiling, my tolerance for him starting to waver. “You have a guy that’s actively addicted, knocking on death’s fucking door, and the last time you laid eyes on him was four days ago? Are you fucking kidding me, Doc?”

“I talked to him on the phone the day before yesterday and he sounded fine. I can’t be on babysitting duty twenty-four fucking seven, Bryant. I have other bands that need me –“

“No-“ I cut him off. “You have other cash cows that are out there killing themselves so you can make a name for yourself and have money in your pocket.”

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, “I didn’t bring you out here so you can rip me a new one, Katherine.”

My anger finally coming through, “Don’t fucking call me that.” My finger pointed in his face. “You don’t have the right or luxury to ever call me by my real name.”

“And who has that luxury, Bryant?” He pressed. “Your fucking ex-husband who’s out there killing himself because you fucking left him? You know you may think it’s my fault that Nikki is the way he is, but you’re just as much to blame. He didn’t get bad until you sent the fucking divorce papers – this is on you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.” I pushed past him, making my way to the front door.

I started walking down the driveway, not even caring that the sun was starting to set, and I didn’t have anywhere to go or anyone to pick me up. I made it about halfway down before Doc’s car came up beside me. “Get in the car, Bryant.” His voice monotone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that in my 25 years of being on this planet. That was my go-to move anytime Nikki pissed me off and we happened to be in the car. Hell, there was sometimes I would just get out of the car at a red light and start walking down the busy street.

“I’m sorry –“ I turned to look at him. “I don’t accept rides from assholes.” My boots slapping against the concrete.

Doc let out a string of curse words, finally stopping the car as he got out and tried to catch up. His fingers grabbed tightly onto my wrist, spinning me around into his body. “Fucking stop, Bryant.” His breathing ragged. “I already have enough to deal with and you acting like a fucking brat doesn’t need to be added to the plate.” I pushed the hair out of my face, yanking my arm out of his hold.

I waited a second as he walked back to his sports car before inching my way back to the passenger side. I may have slammed the door a little too hard, earning a look from Doc as he drove to the main road.

“Vince is throwing a party-“He spoke. “My guess is Nikki’s probably there since all the dealers are there.”

“He’s like a month flying to a bug zapper.” I mumbled.

The drive to Vince’s beachside mansion didn’t take long – traffic being light for that area. Different cars surrounded the home as music blared out of the open windows. I watched as people moved out of the way as Doc drove up to the front – those outside looking to see who was arriving. I didn’t bother waiting for Doc this time – getting out and stomping up the staircase.

I had no idea where he could be – the house was ginormous. The music grew louder as I neared the living room – a circular couch sitting in the middle of the room. A tall skinny guy was the first person I noticed – still having the same stupid haircut he had when we first met. Tom was a fish out of water in the world he lived – the opposite of Motley Crue. It still amazed me to this day that he was the reason Motley got signed.

My eyes moved across the couch, a head full of jet-black hair bent over a silver serving tray caught my attention. I watched as the lines that were perfectly placed vanished as the rolled up bill moved in a vertical motion. His head popped up for a moment, rubbing his nose as the high was hitting.

“I see you found him.” Doc stood next to me. “This is mild compared to what he’s usually doing.” I kept my eyes trained on Nikki as he talked to Mick and Tom – laughing at whatever they were saying. “Bring back memories?”

I glanced at Doc, rolling my eyes before walking towards the white couch. Nikki was in his own world that he didn’t even notice that someone was getting closer. Tom was the first to notice, his jaw dropping to the floor as his eyes grew wide.

“Holy shit.”

Nikki and Mick looked up to see what caused Tom’s reaction, Nikki’s eyes connecting with mine. It took him a moment before his smile started to fall – sobering up within seconds.

19 notes · View notes