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katsukikitten · 6 months

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Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.

But that didn't mean he never indulged.

Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.

Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”

Izuku didn't know what that meant.

Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.

It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.

He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.

But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.

Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.

But nothing was ever good enough.

He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.

It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.

Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.

Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.

But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.

It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.

She breaks her fingers.

Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.

He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.

That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.

He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”

Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.

Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.

His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.

Is it just you this year, honey?

Before a second one comes through.

Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.

But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.

Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.

Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.

Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.

The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.

Only to instantly regret it.

Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.

“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.

Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.

Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.

“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.

“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.

“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.

You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.

But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.

You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.

Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.

You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.

“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.

It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.

“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.

“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”

“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.

“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”

He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.

Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.

“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.

“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”

Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.

He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.

“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.

“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.

“I don't do one night stands.”

“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”

“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.

Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?

“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”

You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.

He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.

“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”

The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?

But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.

“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.

“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.

“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.

His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.

“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”

Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!

“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.

“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.

Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,

“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”

“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.

“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”

“Oh I'm-”

“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”

“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.

“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”

“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.

“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.

“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.

Curiosity killed the cat

“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”

“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”

Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.

“Yes, you should. It is so very late."

“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.

“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.

“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.

“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.

Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.

“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.

“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.

“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.

“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.

He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.

“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.

His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.

And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.

“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.

“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.

“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.

“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.

“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.

“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.

For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.

After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.

“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.

“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”

“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.

Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.

Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.

Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.

If he knows he can't.

The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.

Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.

Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.

Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.

…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….

You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.

For now you return it to the shelf.

Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.

Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.

Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…

“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.

“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.

Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.

You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.

“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.

“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.

A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..

“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.

That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.

“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.

His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.

He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.

“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”

“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”

“You don't have any other clothes?”

“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.

“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.

“Party?”

“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.

“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.

Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.

You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.

Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.

Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.

His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”

“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."

“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”

He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”

He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.

“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.

You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”

He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.

He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.

“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”

“Good night Zuzu bear.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoryia x reader #midoryia izuku x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #kitten writes izuku 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️

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crowclubkaz · 1 month

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😈📚 characters from hazbin hotel as books 📚😈

i finally got around to posting all of these on my bookstagram, and i figured i'd post them here too! putting this together was so much fun that i just had to share. full book list below the cut!

👑 Charlie: - Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson - One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

✖️ Vaggie: - The Bandit Queens by Parini Shroff - Hopepunk by Preston Norton

🎥 Angel Dust: - Rented Heart by Garrett Leigh - Gay Bar: Why We Went Out by Jeremy Atherton Lin ♣️ Husk: - The Lost Weekend by Charles Jackson - The Gambler by Fyodor Dostoevsky

📻 Alastor: - A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers - Lost Signals by Max Booth III

🧹 Niffty: - Maid by Stephanie Land - The Dead Janitor's Club by Jeff Klima

🍎 Lucifer: - Angels Before Man by rafael nicolás - Dayspring by Anthony Oliveria

🐍 Sir Pentious: - Soulless by Gail Carriger - Boneshaker by Cherie Priest

💣 Cherri Bomb: - Girls to the Front by Sara Marcus - We Sold Our Souls by Grady Hendrix

🚬 Valentino: - Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk - Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity by Robert Jensen

📺 Vox: - Universal Harvester by John Darnielle - White Noise by Don DeLillo

📱 Velvette: - The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger - Followers by Megan Angelo

🎸 Adam: - Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James - Why Men Love Bitches by Sherry Argov

🗡️ Lute: - Joan by Katherine J. Chen - The Valkyrie by Kate Heartfield

😇 Sera: - The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom - Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat

👼 Emily: - Halo by Alexandra Adornetto - Blue Skies by T.L. Martin

🥀 Rosie: - In the Garden of Spite by Camilla Bruce - Woman Eating by Claire Kohda

👸 Lilith: - Lilith by Eve Marmery - Jezebel by Megan Barnard

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scarletlizzard · 4 months

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Christmas Angel

Parings: wanda maximoff x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, fluff, dirty talk, name calling, choking, strap on (R) receiving, dom!wanda, fingering , cheating?

Summary: At a Christmas party in a club, you find yourself sitting alone at the bar. That is until Wanda Maximoff buys you a drink.

You sip down another straight shot of vodka, wondering how the hell you got here. You look around the crowded club at the Christmas decorations that hung all over the building. Strands of green and red flickered above you, fake felt snow wrapped around the bar, even the bartender was wearing half of a Santa suit. The crowd of people behind you on the dance floor seemed to get bigger in the 15 minutes you had been sitting at the bar, and you were starting to wonder whether or not you should leave.

"You want another?" the shirtless Santa asks, his fake white beard crooked as he shakes a cocktail. You sigh with a smile and shrug.

"Why the hell not?" He nods at your words, returning a smile. As he pours you another shot, you find yourself subconsciously turning the ring on your left index finger. You stare at it for a moment before grabbing the shot glass, lifting it up towards shirtless Santa, and downing it in one go.

After that shot you definitely felt yourself relax, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to course through your body. Before you could call over the bartender again, shirtless Santa, he's already walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Here you go!" He sets down a fruity looking cocktail in front of you. His beard was no longer crooked, but now his hat was.

"Oh, hey, I didn't order anything else!" You raise your voice, trying to speak above the music and across the bar.

"No worries, someone sent this for you and paid your tab already!" He yells back and sends a friendly wink your way before nodding his head in the direction across the bar. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the color red as you looked over, a woman standing out from the rest of the crowd. She raises her glass in your direction, and you're compelled to do the same.

She smiles and watches as you take a sip of her gift, and you can't help the blush on your cheeks from the way she stares. From what you could make out, she was wearing a nice red sweater that clashed with her gorgeous auburn hair and black slacks on her bottom half. Her eyes were encased with black framed glasses, and thankfully, they couldn't hide the glimmer of emerald you saw behind them.

Lost in the sea of green, you realize she's left her spot and is making her way over to you. You quickly run a hand through your hair and straighten up the short green dress you had on. Soon enough, she's standing next to you, leaning against the wood of the bar.

"Hey there!" The redhead says.

"Hey."

"I couldn't help but notice you all alone over here," she says, her voice is just loud enough for you to hear it over the loud music. You notice her eyes settle on the ring on your finger, but only for a moment. She has a small smirk on face as her eyes move back up to meet yours. "Or maybe you aren't alone?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I'm alone," you say flatly, shrugging and sipping your drink.

"Good to hear. I'm Wanda, and you?"

"Y/N," is all you say, watching as she nods.

"That's a very beautiful name." You feel her inch forward towards you. There's a moment of awkward silence as you don't speak. "Where are you from?" Wanda asks.

"New York."

"Oh really? Wow, New York is beautiful this time of year.. Rockefeller Center, the snow."

Another moment of silence.

"Did you go to school there?"

You nod, "Yep, NYU. I studied photography there."

"Oh, that's really cool! I've always been interested in photography, you know. Taking pictures.. and what not.." She clears her throat and adjusts the glasses on her face.

Silence.

"I um, I like your earrings by the way, they uh, really complement your eyes," She says with a sweet smile, bringing her cup up to her lips and taking a drink. You sigh and do your best to look annoyed with her. "You know actually -"

You cut her off with a raise of your hand, standing from the stool. "Let me just stop you right there, Wanda. You seem really sweet and really nice. You bought me a drink, asked about my life, and complemented me.." You start off, looking at her cheeky grin and the glasses on her face. "But sweet and nice is not what I'm looking for. I don't want someone to chat with all night long, talking about who's from where and what makes you giggle. Not interested, thanks," you give her a fake, bitchy smile.

Wanda has a look of shock on her face, mouth open as she stutters to find the right words. "Y/N, Y/N wait, I'm not -" But you're walking away from her to the dance floor, leaving the rest of your drink at the bar. You let out a huff as you weave through the ocean of bodies, letting yourself get lost in the music.

The lights above the dance floor flash red and green, and everyone around you was wearing Christmas colors or tacky Christmas sweaters. It reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, but you found yourself swaying your hips to the music anyway. It only took a few minutes before you felt a pair of hands on your waist, gripping tightly. You felt their body against your back, moving along with you to the upbeat music that played. One of the hands traveled up your waist and side, up your arm and shoulder to move your hair away from one side of your neck. You can feel them lean down against you, their lips on your ear as they begin to speak.

"I'm anything but sweet and nice, angel." You hear Wandas voice as her arm wraps around you tightly to prevent you from turning around. Her other arm wraps higher around your body, letting her fingers explore the skin on your exposed shoulder.

"Wanda -"

"Shut up, slut," she spits out, making you gasp in her grip. "That's what you are isn't it? That's how you want to be treated?" Wanda presses her hips further against your ass, and that's when you realize for the first time she's got something underneath her slacks. She loosens her grip enough to let you turn around in her arms.

You see that she's lost the glasses, and her eyes are dark with lust. Flashes of green hit her face, accenting her eyes. When red begins to flash, another smirk plays on her lips.

"What did you just call me?" You say, shock still on your voice. But who were you kidding? You could feel yourself getting more turned on with every smirk on her face.

"I called you a fucking slut," she says, without blinking. "I'm not interested in talking or chatting, I don't care about New York or where you went to school... and I fucking hate those earrings." Again, without changing a single expression on her face.

Your jaw drops at her words, "I will deck you right here and take you to the fucking floor."

"Promise?" Another smirk.

The two of you stand and stare at each other for a moment.

Two moments.

Then you're leaning up, and she's leaning down in what could be the hottest kiss of your life. Her hands are on your back holding you tightly against her, and your hands move behind her head to tangle in her auburn locks, pulling at them. Wanda groans into your mouth, mumbling, "Bathroom, now.." against your lips.

Once the door shuts, Wanda pins you to the hard surface, reaching behind you to lock the door. Your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you and kissing her again. Her tongue slides across your bottom lip, forcing herself into your mouth. You moan at the feeling and gladly let her. Wandas hands move down your body, exploring as she makes her way to the bottom of your dress. She pulls up roughly, letting it slide above your hips.

You bite down on her bottom lip, sucking hard and loving the way she hisses at the feeling. She pulls back for a moment, "This is what you want, baby?" Wanda asks, and you appreciate she's asking for permission. You quickly nod, "Yes."

She wastes no time in kneeling down and ripping your panties off so roughly that you realize she's ripped the fabric. She tosses the torn panties to the ground and looks at you with another fucking smirk.

You think, in that moment, her smirk is going to be the death of you.

"You want to be a slut so badly, I'll treat you like one," her hand reaches up to your neck, squeezing tightly. Her other hand moves between your thighs, easily sliding in two fingers. She chuckles darkly and bites back a moan as she feels how wet you were, for her. Her hand squeezes a little harder, making you loose a little air in the perfect amount of pleasure.

"You look even better with my hand around your neck," Wanda says, her fingers beginning to pick up the pace. You begin to moan loudly at the feeling, your hands resting on her shoulders and gripping onto her sweatshirt for support.

"Fuck, Wanda!" She groans at your words, not letting her grip go from around your neck. Wanda feels you begin to squeeze her fingers and she tilts her head.

"Already, angel? You want to cum for me? You want to cum all over my fingers?" She asks, moving them faster. You open your mouth to speak but between her hand on your neck and her fingers pumping in and out of you, you're lost for words. Instead you manage to nod, feeling a build up of pleasure in your lower stomach burning. As you're about to reach your peak she quickly removes her fingers, making you whimper at the empty feeling. You glare at her, tears welling as your body was denied it's release.

"Did you think I would really let a little slut like you cum on my fingers? No, no.." She says with a shake of her head, letting go of your neck. Your legs tremble under your weight and you watch as she begins to unzip her pants. "Get on your knees, like a good girl." You're suprised at yourself, that was all it took for you to follow her instructions.

Wanda stood tall in front of you, her green eyes dark and a permanent smirk at the sight in front of her. She takes the faux cock from her pants, letting it through the undone zipper. Her strap is bigger than you thought, and your eyes widen, knowing you hadn't taken anything like that before. "You'll be okay, get it nice and wet for me," she smiles down at you, putting her hand on the back of your head.

You swallow hard and wet your lips before lifting it up, licking down the side. Wandas breathing was getting heavier, and you knew it was turning her on. She takes your hair in a fist, pulling it just a little bit. You finally take the strap in your mouth, moving your head up and down. "That's it, angel.. fuck you look so hot on your knees," Wanda groans and throws her head back but for only a moment, wanting to watch every second of this.

She begins to move her hips a little, pulling at your hair a little harder. It's when you look up at her with seemingly innocent eyes that she lets out a moan. Wanda can only take a little longer before she's taking herself out of your mouth, her eyes following the trail of spit from your mouth to her strap. She helps you stand up and pushes you against the door for a second time tonight.

You're surprised when she picks you up, "Wrap your legs around me, baby." She says to you, hands gripping your ass. Your back is pressed to the door as she uses one hand to line herself up at your entrance. You bite down on your lip when you feel the tip inside of you.

"Don't be gentle," you smirk at her, enjoying the reaction it drawed out from her. Her hips snap up quickly, and you eat your words as in one motion she's fully inside of you.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she says and adjusts her grip on you. Your legs are wrapped tightly around her when she begins to move her hips, thrusting harshly. You can't control your moans as she fucks you, loving every second of the gorgeous redheads attack on you. Your fingers thread through her hair, arms holding onto Wanda as tightly as you could. She leans forward to kiss you and smirks against your lips as you can barely kiss her back.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Wanda moans against your mouth, watching as you close your eyes and throw your head back against the door.

"Ah, ah.." she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, her thrusts not getting off rhythm once. "Look at me when I fuck you." You open your eyes with a whimper, "Let me hear you, angel." You oblige and let out all your moans, not being able to control yourself.

"Oh, Wanda!... Yes, yes, yes... fuck me harder! ... oh fuck..."

Both of you are moaning now, and Wanda has sucked a few marks on your neck as she murmered dirty things in your ear. She feels your legs tighten around her, your nails digging into the back of her neck.

"I want to hear you beg for it," she pants out, finding herself close to climax. "Beg me to let you cum."

Your head is spinning. You can barely breathe, but you're willing to do anything as long as she doesn't deny you again. "Wanda, please! Please, let me cum.. please.." You whimper out, feeling that familiar heat building up inside you. "I need you, I need to cum, please.." You beg her, and it's music to her ears.

It shouldn't be possible, but she thrusts harder inside of you. "Fuck, fuck.. good girl, taking my cock so well," Wanda moans against your neck, pulling back to look in your eyes.

"Cum for me, angel.. cum all over my cock. Be a good girl for me," she pants out, her thrusts becoming uneven. At her words you feel yourself let go, screaming her name as you do. Your thighs become wetter and Wanda continues to thrust, her pace slowing down as you ride out your high. "God.. fuck baby!" She moans, her hips stuttering against you as she does the same.

The two of you stay there, still for a moment as you cach your breath. Wanda takes a deep breath, leaving slow, wet kisses on your neck and chest. You hum as she does, letting your eyes close and your fingers scratching softly on the nape of her neck.

"Wanna go get some pizza?" Wanda asks as she watches you fix your makeup in the mirror. You take in her relaxed demeanor in the mirror, leaned against the bathroom wall with her arms crossed as if she didn't just fuck the life out of you. Your eyes travel to her face and - goddammit, she smirks.

Wandas jacket is warm as the two of you leave the club and you take in a deep breath in the cold, your nose being filled with the scent of Wanda. For three blocks you walk and talk about the Christmas decorations you see along the way. "Now, those ones, are pretty," She smiles wide pointing to a store with nostalgic lighting wrapped around it's window. The colorful lights shine on her face and you find yourself smiling, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers.

She took you to her favorite pizza place. It was hot and greasy and everything you could want, drunk and freshly fucked at 2am. When you were finished and satisfied, she held open the door for you, her arm stopping you from walking through the frame. You look at her, confused. Wanda only looks up, and you giggle as you realize she's looking at the mistletoe hanging above the two of you. "You know it's bad luck if you dont kiss under it.." Another smirk is all it takes for you to kiss her again.

Wanda holds your hand as she walks you home, only a few blocks away. You feel her fingers play with the ring on your finger. As you step up to your door she smiles, staying behind you at the steps. "So.. this is where you live, huh?" She smiles up at you, green eyes shining brightly.

You laugh and shake your head, stepping down so you are right in front of her. Your hand reaches up to her cheek, letting your thumb move softly. She leans into your touch, her cold cheeks warming in your hand. "You live here too, Wanda.." You giggle at the way she scrunches up her nose, and you lean up to place a soft kiss on it.

You pull the warm comforter over yourself and smile at your wife as she walks in with a glass of water. "What'd you think? I was going for a nerdy with a hot side, but you blew me out of the water." Wanda smiles back and climbs into bed next to you. You laugh and shake your head, letting her wrap her arms around you.

"I loved it. The glasses were a really nice touch, by the way. You looked so sexy.. I wasn't too bitchy? I was trying to have some attitude," you say and she laughs along with you. "I still cant believe we did that.." You rest your head on her chest, relaxing as her fingers stroke your hair. You let your own rub circles on her shoulder.

"No, I loved the attitude. It was so hot. Perfect amount of bitchy," she chuckles and kisses the top of your head. There's a moment of comfortable silence as the two of you lay holding each other.

"You're perfect.." her voice is soft, and you smile at her words, staring at the ring you've been twirling on your finger. You wondered how you got so lucky to deserve Wandas love. She lay quietly, wondering how she got so lucky to deserve being able to love you.

"I love you, Wanda.."

"I love you, more Y/N.."

**********

a/n: This is based on the opening scene of the movie Four Christmases! I thought it would be funny to see if people caught on to it or if they thought that the reader was cheating or something like that, oops. Thanks for all the likes and reads! Any comments are greatly appreciated ♡

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #wandavision #scarletlizzard writes

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repulsiveliquidation · 2 months

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Two is Better than One || The Orgy

Part 4 of The Orgy

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

warnings : Mommy/Daddy kink, oral sex, anal sex, pillow riding, plug usage, strap-ons, swearing, dirty talk (degrading)

The cameras flashed with every move she made. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. Her suit was impeccably made. It fits every curve, toned muscle, and pound of flesh she had, not a single stitch out of place. She was La Reina of course, perfect in every shape and form.

The beige complimented her skin beautifully, her confidence allowed for nothing underneath to look so elegant and poise. She smiled like she owned the place, the cries for her to look a certain direction normally bubbled her anxiety but tonight she was feeling herself.

Down at the other end of the red carpet stood another blonde who knew she was gorgeous. Her tie sat on her chest in a perfect knot, her shirt was pressed and her pants had the perfect crease down the front. The black and white brought out the color of her hair and her mesmerizing eyes. She sauntered in with full confidence, shoulders back and chin up for all the photos she knew would have her best side. She looked over and saw the Spaniard at the end, talking to the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

The girl had on the most beautiful emerald dress that showed off her curves, the thin straps and satin material brought out the beautiful blues and greens in her eyes. The gold necklace and accessories around her wrists rang through the sound of flashes going off. Leah made a beeline towards you, tapping the Spaniard on the shoulder and greeting her politely. You smiled and handed her a mic as well, slipping into the perfect segway of the World Cup final.

Nothing beats a story about the final straight from the captains themselves. This was a promising story and you had the privilege to be the one to write it. The two captains enjoyed the rivalry that had been quite light over the years but there was evidence of a lot of maturity between them and the admiration they both had for each other was very apparent.

Leah explains how the game only motivated the girls to play harder and work harder. Seeing it from the stands and knowing what Alexia had gone through was something that Alexia echoed when asked what it was like playing the Lionesses and not having Leah on the pitch battling it out.

The two made their way into the auditorium, parting ways a little more starstruck than when they set foot on the carpet, the image of you was one that both captains had running around in their minds that night.

Leah approached the bar and asked for a whiskey sour, standing at a cocktail table drumming her fingers on the table while her head bobbed to the music. She sips the last bits of her drink when the smell of your perfume enters her orbit. You had walked behind her towards the bar, a big smile on your face as you sipped the margarita that appeared in front of you a little too quickly.

Leah took a deep breath and walked up to you, handing her an empty whiskey crystal glass and asking for another. You smiled at her and minded your business, not wanting to talk to her more than you needed to, being a journalist and all. Leah surprised you though, leaning on her arm as she stirred her drink.

“I loved doing that interview with you, by the way, Y/N.”

“Oh, I appreciated your time, I’ll make sure to use all the best parts in the final cut!” you thanked her, sipping on your drink nervously. The English woman carried herself well and towered over you a little, smirking a little too smugly at you.

“Are you here with anyone?” Leah asked forwardly, the two double shots of whiskey drinks on an empty stomach already gave her a little buzz.

A little taken aback and flattered by her line of questioning, Leah was happy to see you shake your head. You were about to ask her the same when the slightly more intimidating captain appeared behind you and asked for a rum and coke in the sexiest accent you had grown to love.

“Hola, Y/N. Leah,” Alexia acknowledged, taking her drink from the bartender with a quiet “gracias,” at the end before she sauntered off back to her friends.

“She knows your name,” Leah said, pointing out that her tone suggested that she knew you before the red carpet interview. Leah was a little disappointed that she had never seen you till tonight, let alone know your name.

“I work for Barça, I’m their sports writer,” you explained, finishing your drinking and asking for water.

Just as Leah’s about to ask you more about your job, your producer texts you that the star guest, Aitana Bonmati just arrived and you need to interview her. The latest Ballon d’Or winner was your last interview before you could clock out and enjoy the party so you make sure to tell Leah that you wanted to talk to her and take up her time.

“She’s my last interview, have an extra strong marg waiting for me?” you tell her and run off, smiling when you hear her stutter her agreement. Leah smirks and turns to the bartender, “You heard the woman, have a marg ready when she’s headed over here again, yeah?”

Over at the Spain delegate table, Alexia had been chewing on the little stirrer in her glass, eyes dark and staring so hard, Marta was sure there would be lasers coming out of her hazel eyes if she put her mind to it.

“Are you trying to kill her, Reina?”

Alexia snapped out of her angered trance and brushed off her co-captain, annoyed that her attempt at wishing for Leah’s downfall was interrupted.

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Ale, if looks could kill about half the room would be dead. You’ve death-stared everyone she’s talked to.”

“How do you–”

“You’re not as subtle as you think, capi. Go get yourself another drink and wait for her at the bar.”

Alexia huffed and stood, readjusting her jacket before walking to the bar. She stares at Leah sitting there, immediately deciding to occupy the seat you were in before you left. Just as she’s about to lift herself into the barstool, Leah pipes up and what she says tips her anger past its boiling point.

“Someone’s in that seat,” Leah provides, looking at the Spain captain with a smile.

“And who might that be?” Alexia asks, albeit a little roughly.

“Your new sports writer, Y/N. She’s asked me to save her the seat.”

“Well, I’ll wait for her too then.”

“Do you need to have everything I have a chance at, Putellas?”

“Please, the better team won that day. And it wasn’t England.”

“You fucking–”

“Hola capi!”

Both their heads whip around and look at you, your big smile making both of their anger dissipate. The bartender listened and had a fresh margarita waiting for you like you requested and Leah smiled as she pushed it towards you. Alexia helped you into your seat and Leah glared at her. You were starting to get a hint of what was going on, feeling a little proud of yourself.

“What were you girls arguing about hm?” you ask innocently, raising your strong drink to your lips. Leah and Alexia nursed their drinks and didn’t answer you before the Spaniard mumbled something in Catalan. You understood the language and giggled, replying to her snarky remark. Alexia laughed and added to it, making you laugh a little harder. The English woman on your right had her eyebrows crossed, a look of pure annoyance on her face.

“I-I made sure he made your drink strong, did he make it right?” she interjected, reaching for your chair to swivel you to face her. You take a long, flirty sip and smile, nodding your head.

“It’s perfect Leah, gracias,” you compliment, rubbing her arm. You feel the ripple of her muscles under her jacket and realize that she’s flexing on purpose, making a conscious effort to feel around a little more.

“Did you make sure no one stole my seat while I was gone?” you ask cheekily, knowing that Ale probably came up here and tried to take your seat.

“She did but I made sure it was kept safe for you, princess,”

A dark blush creeps up her neck and Leah decides then and there that she wants to keep your neck that shade of red with all her bites when the annoyed Spaniard interjected and spun you back around towards her.

“¿Qué trato tienes con ella?”

"¿Por qué Ale, estás celoso capitán?"

“¿Te estás olvidando de quién perteneces, princesa?”

"Mm, papi, ¿no podemos agregarla a la lista de cosas bonitas que colecciono?"

“¿Es eso lo que quieres, niña bonita?”

"Sí, papi, la quiero tanto" you beg, pulling your best puppy eyes that are guaranteed to make Alexia fold. It does the trick and she nods, swigging down the last of her drink and standing. She steps towards Leah and adjusts her jacket, smirking a little.

“Williamson. Come with me a second.”

Leah scoffs and stands, following the Spaniard to a quieter side of the room.

“What, Putellas?”

“She has requested for you to join us in our room tonight.”

Leah can’t believe her ears. She blinks a few times and asks the two-time Ballon d’Or winner to repeat herself.

“She wants to fuck you, Williamson. You want her, don’t you?”

“You two a thing?”

“A thing of convenience, yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, quite the opposite.”

“Good. We’re in room 116, meet us there in fifteen minutes.”

Alexia leaves with you on her arm, a little drunken smirk on your face. Leah walks back over to the bar and asks for a cold glass of water. She chugs it all and waits ten minutes before she walks over to the elevators. Her hands sweat a little, and she’s nervous. She stands in front of room 116, hesitant to knock. Just as her right hand gets the courage the door opens and it startles her but your welcoming face calms her racing heart.

“Come in, you’re right on time!”

You walk in behind her and Leah gawks at the bed and all the stuff on it. There were more toys there than she had at home, harnesses that looked custom-made, and dildos that looked hard to take. Alexia sat in the meeting chair near the window, leg crossed and arms on the rests. Leah stands a little intimidated before you sit in Ale’s lap and look mesmerizing under the tinted orange lights.

“Welcome Williamson, I’m surprised you didn’t chicken out,” Alexia teases and you smack her arm, leaving Leah to cover her chuckles with a few unconvincing coughs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Putellas.”

“Play nice the two of you or you’re not fucking me.”

Alexia sighs and regroups, taking a deep breath.

“Leah, welcome. I’ve got a few rules that we use to make this enjoyable. Would you like to say your safeword, amor?”

“Strawberry,” you answer obediently, snuggling back into Alexia’s arms.

“Mine is Apple,” Alexia tells Leah before Leah decides to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed.

“Watermelon,” Leah supplies, leaning forward on her elbows. She smiles, watching your eyes sparkle as she winks at you.

Alexia gets a little annoyed but keeps talking. Her hand around your waist tightens and you lean into her more, green dress a little creased where her hands feel you.

“You will do as I say when I say it, no arguments understand.”

Leah was about to answer her but you piped up with a voice so soft and subtle that it sent shivers down Leah’s spine.

“Yes Daddy,” you whispered to Alexia, standing up and sauntering over to the side of the bed. Leah smiles and watches you, and you smile, seeing both the captain’s eyes on you.

“Mind if you help me take this stunning dress off Mommy?” you ask Leah, watching as her eyes go dark when you use that name on her. Leah nods, walking over to you and helping you unzip your dress. You smile at Alexia and watch her fiddle with her jacket, knowing she’s already feeling hot inside.

“May I?” Leah asks you, pushing the emerald material off your shoulders. You smile and nod, feeling the English skipper’s hand take in all your curves and edges. Leah leans in and kisses along your shoulders and back, whispering how beautiful you looked in that dress and how she longed to see it on the floor in a pile next to her clothes.

Alexia stands in front of you and tilts your head up, eyes boring deep into yours. She smiled kindly, leaning in and pecking your lips. You kiss her back and Leah takes the opportunity to mark your neck up how she wanted to earlier. You moan into Alexia’s mouth and smile against her lips, reaching your arm behind to cradle her head.

Alexia pulls away from you and you step to the side as Leah crashes her lips on Alexia’s. Alexia grabs her face and kisses her back hard, moaning into Leah’s mouth. You stand and watch, biting your lip and rubbing your thighs together. You’ve slipped your underwear off and unclasped your bra, climbing onto the bed how Alexia liked. Leah pushes the Spaniard’s jacket off as hers comes off too, hands in pants struggling to get each other naked fast enough. Hands roam and explore, muscles taut and on display for you to feast your eyes on.

When the two of them finally pull away, you’re on your knees and smirking, holding Alexia’s strap in your hands. She smiles and takes it from you, Leah helping her put it on. There’s a dramatic shift in power in the room, with you and Leah taking a more submissive role as Alexia takes control.

Leah gets on her knees beside you just as Alexia gives her her first command of the night.

“Lay on your back Leah, wanna use your mouth.”

The tingle that sentence sends down Leah’s legs was one that she hoped happened every time Alexia shoved her cock down her throat. Leah did as she said, laying on the bed with her head at the edge. Alexia caressed her cheek and smiled, kissing her lips briefly. Leah sat between your legs, a little buttplug in her hands that you didn’t know was coming.

Alexia’s cock sat on Leah’s face as she caressed her chest. Leah’s nipples perked at her touch, the cold room keeping them rock hard. Leah moaned and smiled, licking up the silicone as the blood in her body slowly rushed to her head.

Alexia stood tall and pressed her cock to Leah’s lips, watching her face get more and more red. Alexia’s hips fuck into her mouth slowly, hands holding her head steady. You, on the other hand, pushed Leah’s legs wide open to play with her wet folds. Leah’s dripping, feeling your fingers play with her clit and ass.

Alexia gently wrapped a hand around Leah’s neck, feeling the cock bulge in her throat. Your fingers slipped into Leah’s pussy and she moans, the vibrations sent around Alexia’s cock and she felt it in her palm. Alexia smiles and chuckles, slapping her breast a few times before speeding up her hips. You sucked on the buttplug and Alexia watched, eyes hooded and lips already red and bitten from concentration. She pulls out and spits into her open mouth messily just as you slip the plug into Leah, hearing her moan and pant in pleasure.

Leah scoots up and feels the blood from her head distribute properly, the plug inside her settles just right and she looks up at you with a smirk. She licks Alexia’s spit from all over her mouth and makes sure to keep her eyes on Alexia.

“I wasn’t expecting that but I am so fucking thankful I said yes.”

“Ready for more, Mami?”

“Fuck yes,” Leah pants, turning over and waiting for Alexia to give her further instructions. Alexia smirks, hand reaching for your face and kissing you hard. Leah watches, eyes bouncing between you and Alexia. She takes your breast in her mouth, sucking noisily as you lay down for Alexia.

“Open those pretty legs for me, mi amor,” Alexia asks, and Leah latches off your breast with a loud pop. Your legs open wide and you’re soaked, pussy glistening for Alexia to enjoy. She swipes her fingers through your folds and licks her fingers clean, both you and Leah watching her in awe.

Alexia looks at Leah and she feels immediate obedience fall over her, ready to do her every wish.

“I want you to ride her face while I fuck her pretty pussy. And when I say ride her face, I mean use her like the fucking whore deserves to be used. Got it?”

“Yes Daddy,” Leah replies easily, the title sending pleasure through all your veins. Leah settles on top of you and lowers herself onto your mouth, hands gripping your hair as she grinds down on your tongue. Alexia pushes your legs back as wide as they can and thrusts her hips forward for her cock to effortlessly slide into your pussy. Leah moans when you start sucking on her clit, your hands massaging the plug in her ass gently as you sucked.

Alexia watched you and Leah closely, hips pounding into your hole hard. She almost bent you in half, legs wide open which only helped her cock into your pussy deeper. Leah slipped off your face and turned around to face Alexia, leaning forward with her hands gripping Alexia’s big ones as she ground a little harder on your tongue. Alexia held her steady and kissed her roughly, moaning into Leah’s mouth. You spanked Leah’s ass and fucked it with the plug inside her, feeling her hole clenching on your tongue that you just slipped in. Alexia leaned back and you cried out for her to fuck into you faster, eyes rolling into your head as you struggled to focus on eating Leah out while Alexia fucked your brains out.

Leah was close too, thighs shaking as your skillful tongue suckled and flicked over her sensitive clit. Alexia fondled your clit with her rough hands, angling her hips up into your sweet spot to push you towards the edge. You pulled the plug inside Leah out and that was more than enough stimulation for her to come, orgasm ripping through her hard. She shuddered and moaned your name alongside Alexia’s, collapsing off of you and panting hard. Alexia grinned and simply pulled out, turned you onto your knees, and pushed her big cock back into you. You moaned and cried out for her, feeling your arms get pulled behind your back.

Alexia held you down and pounded into you, lips muttering dirty things into your ear to spur you on.

“You take it so well, amor. Can’t wait to see Leah on the end of my cock when I’m done with you hm? You wanna come all over it and make her taste how much of a good girl you are for me?”

“Yes Daddy!” you scream, coming hard and all over her cock. Alexia ruts into you despite your cries of sensitivity, pulling out only when she knew she’d leave you shuddering for a good thirty seconds afterward. Alexia kisses you and holds you as you settle, kissing your damp hair gently.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Leah compliments, the stars in her eyes tell Alexia that she’s more than ready to take her cock.

"Ven aquí, cariño,” Alexia beckoned, Leah crawled over and kissed Alexia’s neck slowly going lower and lower. Soon she was face to face with her wet cock and Leah immediately took it in her mouth, tasting you all over it. Leah moaned, eyes locked with Alexia’s who looked almost feral.

She studied her expressions and smirked a little menacingly, eyes dark and lust-driven. You sat obediently by her side, watching Leah suck Alexia’s cock and taste you on it.

“Doesn’t she taste like magic, cariño?”

“Yes Daddy, she does,” Leah answers, kissing the tip before kissing Alexia passionately. Alexia tastes you on her lips and you can see their tongues fight for dominance, the exchange of your taste turns you on immensely.

Alexia settles in behind Leah and smiles at you. She caresses down Leah's toned defender thighs, knowing exactly where Leah could feel Alexia’s cock on her. Alexia kissed her shoulder and neck, whispering in her ear only for Leah to hear.

“Want me to fuck your ass, cariño? Did she get you nice and loose for me?”

“Yes Daddy, please fuck my ass,” Leah begged, feeling a shiver run down her spine. Leah bends forward onto her elbows, pushing her ass out for Alexia. Alexia leans in and spanks her hard, kneading the defender’s meaty ass. She looks over at you and chuckles, seeing your thighs rub harder together as you refrain from touching yourself without her permission.

“Need something, amor?”

“Wanna feel good Daddy, please…”

“Hmm, but I’m fucking our guest amor, I can’t do you both,” Alexia points out matter-of-factly as if Leah wasn’t even there. And boy did that turn her on.

“Please Daddy, it hurts…” you say, hips grinding down on the bed when Alexia gets an idea.

“You wanna show your latest collection how good you are at riding, amor? Want to grind that gorgeous pussy on a pillow and show her how you make yourself come?”

“Yes, yes please Daddy, I’ll show her how good I am for you,” you tell her and grab a soft duck feather pillow and straddle it, grinding your hips gently for Leah and Alexia.

Leah watches you through hooded eyes and a melting mind, feeling Alexia’s tongue slip into her ass as her fingers rub soft circles over your swollen clit. You put on a little show, grinding seductively on purpose to show Leah all the tricks up your sleeve.

Leah moans when Alexia’s cock slips into her, feeling the cold lube and thick appendage stretch her wide. Leah grips the sheets but keeps her eye on you, watching your hips ride that pillow expertly. Your face is full of erotic expressions when Alexia chuckles.

“Faster amor, I think our guest loves your little show, don’t you Leah?”

“Y-Yes!” Leah exclaims, feeling Alexia’s hips fuck into her ass harder. Leah’s head droops as she moans in pleasure when a large hand grabs her hair and forces her to look at you riding the pillow.

“Eyes on her, cariño. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Isn’t she just perfect?”

“S-She’s so beautiful, Daddy,” Leah croaks out, feeling Alexia pull her back against her chest and her hand moves from her blonde hair to around her neck. Alexia’s hips smack her ass with a loud clap, echoing through the hotel room.

You can barely hold back anymore, holding the pillow taut and grinding your clit down in a particular way that shoves you head-first into your second orgasm of the night. The sight of the two captains fucking and Alexia’s dominant side on full display was more than enough for you to get so turned on and come so hard your ears were ringing. You almost missed the part where Leah begged and begged Alexia to let her come and make a mess on her cock.

“Daddy, Daddy please!”

“Please what, Mommy? You want to come?”

“P-Please, please! I’ve been so good!”

“You have been the perfect guest cariño, so perfect for us Mami,”

“Close Daddy, so fucking close!”

“Come cariño, come on Daddy’s cock,” Alexia allowed, pounding into Leah’s ass a couple more times before Leah almost passed out from her orgasm. You caught her and kissed her everywhere, Alexia caressing her cramping legs as Leah slowly came back.

“Fuck, that was-”

“Exquisite.”

Alexia threw her harness off and laid back, pulling the two of you into her sides. You gave Leah a look that she understood immediately. Leah’s hands roamed naughtily down between Alexia’s legs as you took Alexia’s breast into your mouth. Alexia physically relaxed into the mattress and chuckled, opening her legs a little to let Leah in a little more. Leah’s fingers slipped into her pussy and pressed up immediately, finding her sweet spot and rubbing it hard.

Alexia moaned Leah’s name and yours, cradling your head that sucked her breasts one after the other. Her breath shallowed and her chest heaved, hand on your head as you leaned over her and licked her clit as Leah fingered her.

“Amor! Ca-Cariño!” she cried out as she came, feeling her ears ring and legs shudder hard. She panted and you slipped back beside her. Leah gently pulled her fingers out of Alexia and she sucked on them, moaning at the taste of the Spanish captain.

“Delicious,” Leah stated, settling back into Alexia’s side.

“When you come to England in two weeks, stop by?” Leah asked you and Alexia, pecking both your lips.

“Sí, we have to play both sides out no? Like Champions League,” Alexia states seriously, you and Leah laugh and she starts chewing you two out in Catalan again which somehow lulls Leah to sleep.

Two weeks later, when you and Alexia make your way to England for the second leg of the Champions League semi-final against Chelsea, they crash at Leah’s house for the night. Alexia sat in the living room grumbling about the lack of good football on TV while you and Leah tried to reheat the takeout Leah had picked up from a local Chinese place down the street.

After dinner, Alexia suddenly got a little antsy, snuggling into Leah’s chest while you sat between her legs. Her hands were less subtle, finding their way under Leah’s hoodie, caressing the warm skin gently. You were the same, already settled on Alexia’s lap kissing her neck. Leah smirked and turned the TV on a little lower before caressing down Alexia’s arms.

“Does Daddy need something from us?” Leah asks, kissing Alexia’s ear softly as she whispers into it.

“Want you two, couldn’t stop thinking about that night at the hotel,” Alexia admits easily, melting into Leah’s embrace. Leah watches as you grind down on Alexia’s crotch when she shakes her head and looks back at Leah.

“Want you to fuck me Leah, want amor to watch you use me, cariño please,” Alexia pleads so beautifully, eyes filling with tears that only make Leah’s cunt throb.

“I can do that darling, you promise to be good for me angel?”

“The best, I am the best.”

“That you are, baby. I want you two in the room naked and on your knees at the foot of the bed.”

They scramble and Leah grins, turning the TV off and taking her time before she goes into the bedroom. She stood at the door and heard hushed whispers, before silence. She walks in and smiles, seeing the two of them exactly where she wanted them.

Alexia sits a little taller than you do, rocking a little on her knees in anticipation, clearly not accustomed to giving up control in the bedroom but seeing Leah’s eyes change and go dark with pure lust and sexual motivation only made her core ache in eagerness of what was to come.

“You,” Leah points rudely at you, “on the bed at the head. Not a fucking sound,” you nod and scramble onto the bed where she asks, hands folded neatly in your lap.

“And you,” Leah steps in front of Alexia, “lay down in the middle and be a good girl.”

“Yes Mommy,” Alexia answers, lying in the middle of the bed obediently. You settle at her head and caress her brunette and blonde hair, while Leah sits comfortably between her legs. Leah wastes no time and dives into her dessert, slurping and sucking on Alexia’s folds, fingers drumming up her muscular thighs that threatened to crush her head between them.

Alexia’s hands don’t know where to put themselves and Leah pulls them into her hair, eyes fixated on the thick Spaniard in her four-poster bed. Leah slips two fingers into Alexia like she had the last time they fucked and it sends Alexia’s brain spiraling, having tried to desperately recreate that feeling since Leah left the next morning.

You too can’t decide what to do with your hands, having been trained by Alexia to wait for instructions before moving a muscle. Leah can tell that Alexia has given up all her power today and that she held the reigns. It was a power that made her chest swell with pride.

“Ride her face, darling. That’s all her slut mouth is good for, isn’t it?” Leah taunted but Alexia only got wetter, the slick practically pouring out from the Catalan.

“Yes Mommy, she eats pussy so good,” you supply, straddling Alexia’s face before she can say anything. Leah smirks and presses her fingers up into Alexia’s sweet spot that she remembered from the last time. Alexia moans right onto your cunt, lapping up your juices that made your thighs sticky.

Leah pulls her fingers out and climbs off the bed, pulling her favorite strap out and securing it to her hips. Alexia can’t see what she’s got on but she can hear it and it sounds heavy. You ogle at the appendage between Leah’s legs and your eyes go wide, the ribbed dildo was long and thick, surely as big as Alexia had ever used on you.

Leah thrusts three fingers into the Spanish woman and fingers her hard and fast merely to open her up, Alexia’s legs struggling to keep themselves open as you leaned forward to ride Alexia’s tongue that had slipped into your heat.

“She feels so good Mommy,” you tell Leah, watching her fingers push into Alexia’s gaping pussy till the webbing. Her slick made a wet patch on the blanket under you three, your slick making a mess on Alexia’s beautiful face. She was in heaven, she thought, the two weeks of dreaming about this day made it worth the wait and it was more than she was expecting.

“She does feel good, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet she is?” Leah teases, reaching out for you for a kiss. You kiss her hard and moan, feeling Alexia’s big hands grab your ass for some stability.

“Want something a little special, darling?” Leah asks as she pulls away from you. She pulls her fingers out and watches you nod, tongue out like a panting like a dog. You think that Leah’s gonna let you have a little fun with Alexia but you were in for a little surprise like Leah said.

Leah presses her Alexia-covered fingers into your mouth deep into the cavern, pressing down on your tongue to pull a gag out of you.

“That is my favorite sound in the world, cariño,” Alexia pipes in, grinning wide with her slick-painted chin and lips.

“It is music to my ears,” Leah chimes in, pressing her fingers deep into your throat again to hear you gag. Tears fill your eyes and you stumble a little, falling forward onto Alexia’s torso.

Leah pulls out a strap from under her pillow and gives it to Alexia. You slip off her and stare, connecting the dots in your head.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you while Mommy has her way with me, got it?”

Leah smiles, helping Alexia pull the harness on. It settles right above her cunt which leaves it all for Leah while you could comfortably ride Alexia at the same time. Alexia sees the dildo Leah’s got on for the first time and smiles, stroking it gently.

“Will it fit Mommy?” she asks innocently, grabbing the lube Leah handed her to coat the toy with. She made a show of spreading the lube all over it, using the leftovers for her cock.

“We’ll get it to fit, darling.”

Leah manhandles you onto Alexia with her clean hands, spanking your ass hard as you look close to tears. She guides the toy into your pussy and you whine, the stretch was more than Alexia’s tongue could prepare you for.

“So full Mommy, feels so good,” you sigh, bottoming out on Alexia’s cock. She smiles and caresses your thighs before you add something that sends lightning through both Leah’s and Alexia’s veins.

“Your turn Daddy,” you grin and bite your lip, kneading Alexia’s breasts. Her hands on your hips suddenly go tight and Leah’s hands on your waist press you forward to expose Alexia’s heat. Leah swipes a little more lube on the tip and slides herself home, kissing your back as whines and whimpers leave Alexia’s mouth.

“Fuck, Mommy,” Alexia starts but takes a sharp breath when Leah bottoms out, “your cock is so big.”

“Too much, darling?”

“It’s perfect Mommy,” Alexia moans, moving her hips on her own. You began to ride her cock, feeling Leah’s thrusts which felt like she was fucking you too. You hover over Alexia and take her cock, feeling her thrust up into you as you try your best to ride her.

Leah ruts into Alexia like a dog in heat, the sticky lube creaming at the base of Leah’s cock as she enjoyed the view of your tight grip on Alexia’s cock to spur her on.

Alexia moaned loudly, feeling the ribbed cock inside her graze over her sweet spot. It jerks her hips which sends her cock so deep inside you that you’re sure you can feel it in your stomach. Your hand caresses your belly and lo and behold, there’s a cock shaped bulge just above your belly button.

“Oh Daddy, you’re so deep!” you moan, canting your hips on her cock faster to chase your high. Leah grips your waist but feels the skin tug under her hold and moves them just over your palm resting on the bulge that came and went.

“Daddy, you really are deep darling,” Leah tells Alexia whose hand, which is the biggest of the three, rests on top. She smirks when she feels the rhythmic pulse of her cock inside you.

“¿Cerca?” Alexia asks you and you nod when she feels Leah fuck into her pussy harder. It sends shivers down her spine and pleasure right through her body. Her eyes roll into her head and she smiles in pleasure, pulling you down for a searing kiss. Leah leans back and fucks up into Alexia’s swollen sweet spot, making sure the whole ribbed cock grazed it over and over again.

You aren’t sure who came harder.

You aren’t sure who screamed louder.

You aren’t sure how you ended up in a suspiciously Leah-scented hoodie.

Alexia asks herself the same question.

“Hello, darlings,” Leah’s voice sounded distant but comforting until there were kisses pressed to your head and several more on Alexia.

“What happened?” Alexia asked, tucking herself into Leah’s side and looking up at her.

“You two fell asleep the moment you came at the same time. I cleaned you up and put fresh sheets on. Now I need you two to finish this bottle of water before the pizza I ordered gets here.”

“We haven’t got any more games over here do we?” you ask Alexia as she sips on the water while Leah gets the pizza from the delivery man at the front door.

“No, but I think I can convince Jona to have international training to use the facilities at Arsenal or something because I need her dick again.”

#leah williamson #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni #arsenal wfc #woso smut #leah williamson x alexia putellas x reader #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas x reader #daddy alexia #mommy leah #pls save me

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astarion-approves · 9 months

Note

Astarion & Tav taking a bath together? Something gentle and intimate but non-sexual? ♥️

Astarion x Gender Neutral Reader (Tav)

Tag: 1.6k+ words, SFW, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Bathing/Washing, bathhouse, No Smut, Drabble, Short & Sweet

“I had no idea that there even was a bathhouse in Baldur’s Gate.” Tav mumbles as they followed behind Astarion, leaving their camp behind in search of a place for a fresh bath. They both carried their own bags, Tav carrying a change of clothes and a bar of soap. Looking at Astarion’s bag, it looked much heavier.

Astarion glanced back to Tav with a boyish grin. “There’s more than one, of course. I wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the free ones though. No, for us, we’re going to take a bath in luxury.”

Read below or on Ao3

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“Luxury…,” Tav said with a wince. “How much is this going to cost me?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. It’s on me.”

“Wow, Astarion, it’s almost like a date.”

“Hah!” Astarion barked a laugh. “You wish.”

The bathhouse was huge, the outside painted a bright, flawless white with an emerald trim accenting the pillars and fencing that surrounded it. Two large gold doors signified the entrance, the level of elegance screamed ‘high class.’

Once inside, Astarion strode ahead, already reaching for his coin bag and requesting a private room for himself and Tav to share. Tav watched as the woman working the front desk counted the coin, a ridiculous total of 75 coins for a single bath.

With a room key in hand, Astarion clicked his tongue for Tav to follow, apparently not even phased by the amount of coin he willingly spent for the night. This is the same man who haggled over the cost a black dye with a child two months ago.

Tav supposed it was fine to splurge every once in a while, but they couldn’t justify this. “I could have split the cost with you,” Tav said.

Astarion fiddled with the key, inserting it into their room and twisting his wrist to open it. “Nonsense. Besides, part of the reason I brought you here is to protect me while my head's under water.”

“Right…” Tav nodded. Something that Astarion had admitted months ago.. nearly a year now. During a night of passion, their lips locked together in a heated embrace. But it didn’t feel right. The shock in Astarion’s eyes when they pulled away still pains them. Instead of moving forward and having one another… they talked. They’ve been close friends ever since, giving Astarion the freedom to be open with his fears, to admit why he attempted to seduce Tav in the first place.

Protection.

And even now, as Astarion stripped down to nothing, Tav smiled knowing that he felt safe with them.

The room wasn’t massive, but still larger than any shower room Tav had ever seen. The walls were painted into a beautiful scene, one to trick your mind into thinking you were bathing in nature, surrounded by trees and a waterfall nearby. Tav swore they even saw the leaves move as a subtle breeze rolled through them and through the room.

There was a single shower and a very very large bath. Steam filled the room, the bath already filled to the brim with hot water, which flowed over the sides and into the drains on the floor beside it.

Tav sighed happily as they undressed along with Astarion and stepped up to where the shower waited for them. The floor was hot beneath their feet. The air, although steamy, felt as refreshing as standing at the top of a mountain.

Astarion began unpacking his bag, removing item after item and placing it beside the shower.

After six different items were removed Tav just had to ask, “Wait, just how many products do you use for your hair?”

“Products?” Astarion put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Tav, these are just shampoos, conditioners, hair masks, oil, and a hydrating leave in gloss… do you not take these steps with your hair?”

Tav runs their hand through their hair, shrugging. “No?”

“What? Gods, you’re an absolute savage. Come here.” Astarion grabbed a large bucket that was resting off on the side, turning it upside down and making a temporary chair. “Sit.”

“I can wash my own hair—“

“Sit, Tav. I won’t say it again.”

Tav knew better than to argue and, with a sigh, they plopped down onto the bucket. Soon after, Astarion was turning on the water. It was hot and relaxing, pouring down the top of their head and running down their body.

“Okay,” Tav whispered. “I understand the luxury bath now.”

“Oh, darling. We’re just getting started.”

Astarion poured shampoo into his hands, rubbing his palms together before sliding them into Tav’s hair.

“Oh—“ Tav gasped, their head falling back and into Astarion’s chest.

He chuckled, his finger’s massaging and scratching at their scalp as they worked the shampoo into their hair. “Do I dare ask how you’ve been washing your hair all this time?”

“Cold water and a bar of soap.”

“Like I said, an absolute savage. What ever would you do without me?”

“Uh… Continue bathing with cold water and a bar of soap?”

Astarion tugged on their hair, laughing. “Smart ass.”

Soon he was pushing their head back under the flow of water, rinsing out the shampoo and then continuing with the conditioner.

Tav breathed in deeply, their eyes closing as they allowed Astarion to take care of them. And Astarion held them so gently, his finger’s threading through their hair, his nails pressing against their scalp and moving to the back of their neck. Each stroke sending shivers down Tav’s body as Astarion massaged the conditioner deep into their roots.

“Feel good?”

“Mh.” Tav hummed, shifting their head and resting the side of their face into his chest.

“Ah, no falling asleep. Not yet. Rinse this out and jump in the bath.” Astarion pushed Tav forward, back into the water and let the conditioner wash out.

“What about the other stuff?” Tav asked. They looked to the pile of other products, not wanting Astarion to stop yet.

“Cute,” Astarion said with a small smile. “That comes after the bath. Now hurry up.”

Tav pouted as they stood, giving Astarion the space to sit down. “Do you want me to wash your hair—“

“Bahah! Absolutely not.” Astarion laughed and reached for his shampoo, one of many. “I have a very strict regiment.”

“Oh…”

Astarion sighed and looked back to Tav. “Maybe next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“By the Hells, Tav, just get in the damn bath.”

Turning away from Astarion, Tav did as they were told. Hissing as their toe touched the water, it was even hotter than the shower. Soon they were sinking into it completely, moving to one edge of the bath where there was a bench under the water to sit and rest. They let their head lean back on the edge, their eyes closing as they allowed themselves to relax.

They don’t know how much time passed before Astarion joined them in the water. The vampire sitting next to them and joking about how it looked like he was the one doing the protecting here. Tav simply reached for Astarion and pulled him into their arms, snuggling against him and pressing a single kiss to his shoulder.

“Sleepy, are you?” Astarion slouched in the water, allowing Tav to cuddle him however he wanted, but he still felt a little stiff. “Looking for a cuddle?”

Which they’ve never done before. Not since that night.

Tav cracked open one eye, looking up and into Astarion’s deep blood red eyes that gazed back at them. “What are we?”

Suddenly the tension in the room grew thick, Astarion saying nothing and only continuing to look back at Tav.

Then he hummed, finally ripping his gaze from Tav. “Two friends, sitting in a bathtub, and they’re not in love.”

“We’re not?”

“Well..” Astrarion cleared his throat and continued, “I can’t speak for your lovely little self but—“ He paused, lifting a single hand from the water to cup Tav’s cheek. “Maybe I am? Honestly, Tav, I have no idea.

“We’ve been friends for so long… but I know that I would die for you. I wouldn’t die for the others. I would fight for them, but I wouldn’t die for them. And I miss you when you’re not around me. When you leave camp to go to Gods knows what— washing your hair with fucking sewer water—“

“—I use water from a lake.”

“Or buying me avocados because I ask you too—“

“—What do you even use them for?”

“My hair.”

“Really? Avocados?”

“Yes, it’s very good for your hair, Tav. Can I continue?”

Tav laughed. “Sorry, yes.”

“I don’t know what love is… For so many years, sex, lust.. any sprinkling of romance all ended in disaster… What I feel with you is different. It’s so much more than anything I’ve ever experienced, and we’ve never even fucked! It’s all so strange to me.”

“You don’t have to have sex to be in love with someone, Astarion.”

“Yes, I know that now, but… for the longest time— I didn’t. I want to explore this with you.” Astarion sat up, pulling Tav along with him. “Whatever this is.” He placed his hand against Tav’s chest, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. “I want your heart to beat like this, only for me. I want to finally know what falling in love is truly like…With you.”

Tav took Astation’s hand, gently pulling it away from their chest and bringing it to their lips, pressing a small kiss on the back of his knuckles. “I love you, exactly as you are, and I’ll never need anything else from you. We’ll take this as slow as you need to.”

Astarion smiled, lowering his head and resting his forehead against Tav’s. “Thank you..”

“Of course,” Tav replied and sank back into the hot water, taking Astarion into their arms once more. This time, Astarion let himself mold into their arms, closing his eyes, relaxing, and enjoying the protection and understanding that Tav offered.

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smusherina · 14 days

Text

bridges burnt - chapter 1 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

very necessary note: Okay, fuck, it was supposed to be a one shot. Then I got excited. So have another freakin' Regina George series. Set in the same universe as yard work! Reading that provides some essential context, but you do you! I don't think it's unreadable without it.

You adjusted your tie for perhaps the millionth time. It was a silky blue, befitting your navy suit. You fiddled with your cufflinks, silver like all your accessories, then pulled out the baby blue handkerchief to wipe down your glasses, then folded it pack into your pocket, then bent to redo your laces, then-

"For fuck's sake, the ceremony hasn't even started yet!" Amanda nudged you violently.

"Ow!" You hissed, elbowing her back. She slapped your knee, hard.

"Get yourself together." She glowered, pointing a manicured finger at your nose. "It's worse enough I have to be here at all. You're not gonna ruin this for me."

"You're here for the open bar and free food. I paid for the flights, the room, the car." You bit back. "I'm allowed to be nervous."

"There's nervous, then there's this." Amanda looked you up and down pointedly, noting your bouncing knee.

You squeezed at said knee, trying to calm down. Like you'd been trying to do since hours ago. No results so far.

"Look, buddy, it's just a wedding. You don't even really know her. I get you... Have a history with the bride, or whatever, but it's gonna be so fine."

"It's not Gretchen I'm worried about." You mumbled.

"Whoever. It's gonna be fine." Amanda said, flippant as ever. How she was so carefree all the time was mind-boggling to you.

"This place is filled with people from high school. God." You looked around. "That guy over there, don't look, with the receding hairline- I said don't look!"

"Be more specific, every man here has a receding hairline. The demographic is excruciatingly pallid."

"Shut up, girl," You shook your head but couldn't help but laugh. It was mostly white people here. "The one with the wife that looks exactly like him, unbelievably blonde, kinda mousy," You waited for her eyes to latch onto the man you were talking about. "He used to buy weed from me, like, every week, and then went around spreading rumours about me."

"Ungrateful." Amanda scoffed. "And look at him, a wife, child, and probably a 401k. That's how it goes for boys like them."

"Yeah." You sighed. "How's the salon doing, by the way?"

"Thriving. Thanks to you. But I worked my ass off." You lifted your arms in surrender. She had worked hard to keep the place afloat for as long as she had, so even if you hadn't invested she would've found a way.

Amanda cast you a meaningful look. "You're doing better than ever, aren't you? Financially speaking. How's everything else?"

"Well, y'know..." You shrugged. "It's complicated." You looked down. Amanda patted your knee, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"You got a nice suit, though." She pointed out.

"Oh, for sure. Look at these, custom cufflinks." You showed off the silver bits. "Do you think these rings are too much?"

"Don't you usually have an ungodly amount of them on?"

"I usually just have these three." On your right pinky was your Engineer's Ring. On your left thumb was an embroidered steel band and on the pointer of that same hand a ring with a big emerald embedded in a bed of crystals.

"It's not too much." Amanda took your hand and inspected the rings. "More like sexy." She grinned at you, all sorts of innuendo right on display.

You scoffed and turned towards the altar. The pews were getting fuller by the minute. You were sitting far enough from the front to show you weren't important but not too far as to hint you didn't want to be there. You were on the bride's side, though it didn't matter much. You didn't know Gretchen any better than her husband-to-be.

Amanda had come with you for moral support. You'd been roommates in college and you hadn't been able to shake her off since. She'd grown on you, though you often acted more begrudged than you felt. She'd helped you out a lot over the years.

She'd been there when you couldn't leave the dorms, trapped in the vicious clutches of paranoia. She'd been there helping you get back on your feet when dad's businesses started going, one by one, each more explosive than the last. She was there when you moved back to that little town in Illinois, where Northshore still stood.

You liked to think you'd been equally as integral to her, but that was perhaps a reach. She was fiercely independent, resourceful, and charming enough to make friends with anyone. When the first chance to help her came, you didn't hesitate to take it. She'd opened up her salon right after graduation, staying in New York while you moved back home, and had been doing well until now. Unexpected costs and a wicked plumbing bill had landed her in some hot water.

For the small price of one favour and eternal bragging rights, you'd shoved your newly acquired wealth at her. Dragging her to Vermont in October to attend Gretchen's wedding was you cashing in on that favour.

Eventually, the proceedings began. The groom and his men walked in with little fanfare, mild music playing as they went. Most faces you did not recognize, but there was one back of the head that seemed eerily familiar.

The groom, a classically handsome man, a boring prince type, went to stand at the altar. He had an expectant glimmer in his eye. At least Gretchen's taste in men had improved. Then again, anything beat the scrubs she'd used to keep around.

Behind the groom, his line of groomsmen settled, the best man fronting the crowd. The man of the hour was in a classic black tux while the others flanking him were dressed in different shades of brown. The whole shebang was sort of beige with a little bit of burnt orange thrown in. Amidst the shades of umber, russet, and sepia, stood a familiar face.

Aaron Samuels. You didn't have much time to agonize about him being here before the bridesmaids were stepping through the aisle. Similar dresses but in lighter shades, clearly made to match a certain groomsman. You didn't recognize any of them.

The maid of honour was a little odd. Her makeup seemed to be a lot thicker on one side, like there were several layers of foundation caked on. Her eye makeup on that side was a little heavy also, but she was past you by the time you could wonder why.

"The maid of honour totally has a black eye," Amanda whispered to you.

"No way," You hissed back, trying to get an angle where you could see her face. As she settled in place, facing the pews, even moderately far away you could see that, yeah, she totally was covering up a black eye. Wild bachelorette party, then.

Coos and aws resounded through the church as the flower girl and the ring bearer came toddling down. A little girl, cheeks all red, and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else, and a slightly older boy with an almost manic look in his eye. The girl was in no mood to be tossing petals, so the boy reached into her basket and threw a big fistful of them in the air. The rings rolled off of their pillow but found their way back.

"Oops," The boy said, smiling sheepishly right as the photographer came in to capture the moment. Chuckles echoed through the space.

By the time they reached the end of the aisle, the little girl was dutifully carrying the pillow on which the rings were and the boy was joyously tossing flower petals everywhere. As god intended.

Then came the bride. Escorted by her father, who was beaming with a mouth full of veneers, Gretchen Wieners made her appearance.

It wasn't disappointment that you felt. Not relief, either. It was hard to describe. You'd been expecting anger or some catharsis. This was the person who'd outed you to your whole school, who'd been the catalyst to the worst year of your life, why didn't you feel more?

High school had been over for almost ten years. You carried scars, deep ones that still ached on bad days but at the end of the day, they were just scars. You were doing better than ever. Gretchen had been a bully, had brought you to ruin once upon a time, but who was to say it couldn't all be built again?

You smiled. She looked beautiful. A white dress, a long veil, hair done big, bigger and more grandiose than you'd ever seen, and looking like, well, a bride.

You'd moved on. Considering how she'd invited you too, and knowing Gretchen she was acutely aware of every person in attendance, she had moved on too. You could recognize an olive branch when one was given to you.

That didn't explain the invitation, though. Maybe it was a mistake. Gretchen wasn't known for making those, but she was human too. Right?

"Look, they're totally enthralled by each other. You're gonna be fine." Amanda whispered, ignoring the elderly lady seated next to her shooting daggers through her eyes at you two.

"Yeah. It's gonna be fine."

Notes: Got really ill at the beginning of this week, which delayed this chapter quite a bit. You don't realize quite how awesome breathing is until you can't do it properly. Getting better slowly, it's nothing serious, but the cough is lingering. It is what it is.

This chapter was mostly setting up the narrative, no Reggie and Jorts interactions as of yet. I'm not making any promises because I'm so shit at keeping them, but hoping that this series will be shorter than the original one.

Taglist posted seperately!

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work #fic: bridges burnt

266 notes · View notes

croimilis · 2 years

Text

The Arrangement

title: the arrangement

characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n: this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron.

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions.

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)”

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more.

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him.

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently.

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.”

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now.

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.”

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing.

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again.

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime.

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.”

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little.

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.”

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts”

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?”

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?”

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came.

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it.

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him, and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place.

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead.

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground.

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there.

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame.

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.”

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day.

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier.

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them.

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close.

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time.

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead.

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner.

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.”

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday.

----

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party.

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars.

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did.

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention.

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke.

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.”

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face.

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together.

---

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14 he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom.

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing.

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.”

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain.

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party”

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.”

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face.

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples.

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that.

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that.

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in.

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa.

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing.

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod.

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.”

---

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying.

“That’s it (Y/N)....”

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…”

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation.

“Thank you guys.”

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.”

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you.

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner.

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress.

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight.

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later.

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40.

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around.

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face.

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites.

“You clean up well Bradshaw.”

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting.

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.”

Rooster’s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face.

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down.

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you.

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist.

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move.

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again.

“You look good too B.”

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco.

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.”

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly.

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue.

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet.

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink.

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire.

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his.

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?”

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart.

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard.

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer.

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.”

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat.

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle.

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.”

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.”

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed.

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance.

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed.

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile.

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light.

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them.

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…”

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely.

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.”

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself.

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.”

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night.

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender).

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table.

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas. At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale.

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night.

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right.

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher.

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you.

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles.

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess.

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns.

---

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff.

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl.

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair.

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you.

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you.

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley.

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.”

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile.

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….”

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring.

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress.

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky.

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find.

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?”

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed.

“Tell me about the letters Bradley”

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously.

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply.

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little.

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness.

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.”

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears.

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?”

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well.

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek.

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.”

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next.

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little.

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth.

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink.

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys.

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber.

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?”

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat.

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face.

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket.

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…”

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck.

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot.

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse.

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat.

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.”

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body.

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last.

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you.

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you.

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’.

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it.

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst.

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?”

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.”

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off.

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips.

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable.

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true.

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy.

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice.

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips.

“Please what baby?”

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant”

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do.

“You okay angel?”

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips.

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again.

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.”

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one.

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again.

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.”

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you.

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face.

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you”

“I love you too Bradley”

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.”

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training.

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?”

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”.

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saintlaurentisms · 4 months

Note

hi my love! been obsessed with the fictional club scene recently; was wondering if you could write me a quick smutty club bathroom/dancefloor blurb!!! have fun with it, i love ya <3 :3

fulfilling the fantasy.

A/N: i had so much fun writing this, holy shit. this is dedicated to all of the harry & ashton fans in the world (and on the internet!), i see you and i believe you have taste.

gif credit.

summary: in which, you and your boyfriend go out to celebrate a successful first tour gig and the adrenaline seriously heightens emotions. ~ featuring ashton irwin of 5 seconds of summer.

content warning: smut (semi-public p-in-v sex in front of a mirror, voyeurism, threesome (???), dirty talk (degradation + praise), oral sex (male receiving), some hair pulling, daddy kink.) this work is intended for those 18+ and should be read by mature audiences only.

word count: 2.7k+ words.

The post-concert adrenaline hadn’t wavered in Harry’s veins, that much was evident. When you looked at him, all you could see was the radiance of energy and purity of happiness; evergreen in his eyes, the rose color in his lips, the blackness of ink that shone underneath the arctic hues of blue and white in the nightclub you and Harry had ventured to in the darkness of the evening. It was risky going out, especially at a time where One Direction fans were probably having their own adventure, still riding the high of seeing their favorite band perform live, but you nor Harry seemed to care.

Tonight was all about him, all about celebrating a successful first show and the beginning of the On the Road Again tour. The rest of the boys had preoccupied themselves with their own forms of fun, leaving you and Harry by yourselves. Upon entering the venue, you beelined towards the bar, your hand in Harry’s with your heads bowed to try and keep your identities a bit of a secret. You’re in the middle of ordering a round of vodka shots for you both before you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn your head to get a glance at who could have tapped you, though you’re already suspecting it was a fan.

You were wrong.

“Holy shit, Ashton?” You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing at the man in front of you. Harry’s eyes widen a bit at your words, turning his body fully to face the drummer, abandoning the bartender and the prospect of alcohol. It had been a while since you’d interacted with Ashton in person, only really communicating via text or video chat since you last saw him a year ago. Of course, it had been far longer for Harry; One Direction had 5 Seconds of Summer on tour with them in 2013 and 2014 and they all grew quite close during that time, but their communication had fizzled out due to how busy both bands became.

“I knew it was you!” Ashton grins, hazel eyes glimmering with excitement as the pair of you take each other in. The buzz of chemistry between you and the Australian was palpable – palpable enough for anyone to notice it, including Harry.

Harry’s lips twitch up into a small smile at the interaction taking place in front of him, yet an ugly, gnawing feeling in his gut is slowly beginning to grow; he knew you were attracted to Ashton when you’d met back in 2013 and that Ashton reciprocated those feelings once you both had gotten to know one another. However, you and Harry had just begun dating and knew that nothing would come of your little crush on the drummer. Still, a deep-seated insecurity nestled its way into his bones and, apparently, hadn’t quite left.

Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the unsettling amount of jealousy your boyfriend was beginning to feel made his evergreen eyes go emerald; hard, darkened. “We’re celebrating tour,” Harry cuts in, instinctively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “the first show was earlier on.”

“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine,” Ashton replies playfully, “Niall. Niall’s the grapevine. He asked if the boys and I could catch the show, but we were busy. Will you be in Australia for a bit?”

“Yes! Yeah, we’ll be in Australia. 1D has shows in Brisbane and Melbourne.” The words tumble out of your mouth and it sounds as though you’re a walking advert for your boyfriend’s band. Clearly, Ashton finds it cute because he’s chuckling at your unfiltered enthusiasm the minute you stop rambling.

“Well, it was great to see you guys. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He smiles, though his words are a slight dig at your boyfriend; Ashton could tell Harry’s guard was up and the jealousy that he exuded was crystal clear. At least, it was to him.

You, on the other hand, were too wrapped up in excitement to truly take note.

The drummer leaves you and Harry at the bar, going back into the atmosphere of the club. You spot him joining a group of friends at a table. Part of you wishes he’d stay and chat more, but the evening wasn’t about socializing, it was about basking in the glory of your popstar beau.

Everything seems to return back to normal; you turn your attention back to the bar and order that round of vodka shots for yourself and Harry. The two of you are two shots deep before his gaze falls on you, “D’you want to fuck him?”

You choke on the alcohol, sputtering slightly with wide eyes at the incredibly unexpected question. “W-What? What the fuck are you- are you talking about?” You speak between breaths, trying to regain composure. Harry wasn’t usually so direct, this only happened whenever sex was involved, so why he was so upfront confused you a bit.

“Do you want to have sex with Ashton?”

“Harry,” You look at him incredulously, “don’t be ridiculous. No, I don’t want to sleep with Ashton.”

“Don’t lie, Y/N. You’ve always fancied him, we both know that.”

“So what? I’m with you, I love you. Want you, not him. It’s just a little celebrity crush, H. You know I’d-”

“Darling,” Harry interrupts with a chuckle, amused by your immediate instinct to reassure him that you’d never entertain infidelity. He knew how committed you were to him. “S’ not what I mean. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. M’ askin’ if you’d ever thought about fucking him.”

You weren’t sure whether to be truthful or to set aside your feelings. On one hand, he was only asking you if you’d thought about it or had ever fantasized about it, yet on the other hand, a part of you was sure that if you answered with the truth, he’d get angry with you. However, Harry had never been the type to get angry over honesty. In fact, he preached being truthful.

“I’ve… thought about it, yeah. It isn’t really a fantasy about him fucking me, though. It’s more- well, it’s more about you and him.”

Your boyfriend blinks, “A threesome?”

“Kind of? I- I guess you could describe it that way. You, uhm.. You take turns.”

At this, the popstar is silent. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks for a brief moment.

“We share you.”

You cringe at Harry’s words. The lewdness of his sentence lingers and makes you feel queasy, “When you put it like that, I sound like a slut. I hate how that sounds.”

“Baby, there’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to explore having more than one sexual partner. ‘Spose it is a threesome you’re wanting. I…” He trails off, pearly teeth nibbling at his lower lip as he starts to think deeply once more, diving head first into the depths of his head.

“Yeah?” You coax, eyebrows raising slightly.

“I’ll be honest, m’ a bit jealous about it- the idea of another man takin’ you. But, if it’s just a one time thing, I think I could be okay with it.” Harry replies sincerely, green eyes meeting your own briefly. “One night only, the two of us makin’ you ours for an evening.”

Those words go straight to your core and your brain begins to conjure up filthy images of Ashton and Harry taking turns pleasing you. Your thighs squeeze together in order to quell the heat beginning to bloom in between them. “Please?” You ask quietly, gazing up at your boyfriend with faux innocence; a little look like this tends to send Harry into dominant overdrive.

He smirks, “Text him and tell him to meet us in the bathroom, love.”

Within eight minutes, Ashton is tapping on the club’s bathroom door before swiftly entering and locking it behind him. His hazel eyes glance over at Harry, then at you. “Are you sure about this?”

You’d texted the drummer about the situation when your boyfriend had told you to, not leaving any important details out of it. It was made clear: you, Harry and Ashton, fucking in the club’s bathroom. The only opportunity you’d ever get to have both of the men you deemed incredibly fit and had the most chemistry with.

You nod confidently, “I’m sure, I promise.”

Like a switch had flipped, Ashton’s gaze meets Harry’s again, but there’s a haze in it; his once bright hazel eyes are clouded with desire. Some silent conversation is had between their eyes, maybe it’s both men agreeing to the terms – whatever it is, they both exude an aura of dominance that has your heartbeat increasing. You’ve never wanted to be on your knees this badly before.

The feeling of Harry’s lips brushing against your ear brings you out of your reverie and a short gasp leaves your lips as they trail downward and press a deep kiss to your neck. Ashton walks forward, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he brings his lips to yours, sealing your fate.

The affair becomes a blur of quick movements and kisses shared as time progresses. The soft clink of belts being unbuckled and heavy breathing fills the room when you’re finally brought down to your knees, eyes feigning innocence as you look up at Ashton. His hand is wrapped around his cock, the tip of it right at your lips.

“Go on, baby. Show Ashton how much of a good little slut y’ are.” Harry encourages you, leaning against the sink with his hand tugging slowly at his length. Without much else, your lips wrap around the drummer’s dick, your head bobbing up and down in order to take more of it in.

“Fuck,” Ashton swears through gritted teeth, his free hand weaving itself into your hair, gently guiding your movements, “so good, doll. Keep goin’ just like that for me.”

You do, you allow him to guide your movements with each tug on your hair, furthering his cock into your mouth. It’s sloppy; tears are welling in your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat, your saliva is coating his dick and your chin. “She’s such a slut for it, Styles. Damn, you got lucky.” Ashton groans low in his throat, which makes Harry smirk.

“Bet you’re absolutely dripping, aren’t you baby? Adore being used, don’t you?” Your boyfriend taunts you, evergreen eyes watching you suck off his friend. All you can do is look at him as validation for his statement.

Ashton’s fingers wrapping in the strands of your hair becomes slightly fiercer, pulling and pushing your lips up and down his length as he chases euphoria. “Fuck, I’m close.” He warns, hazel eyes shutting as he tries his damndest to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your eyes flit towards Harry, who’s still watching you give Ashton a blowjob, his hand tugging at his cock lazily. A devilish grin has throned itself upon his lips, “Cum for her, Ash.”

The drummer’s fingers twitch momentarily, then still. A guttural groan leaves his lips as his head tilts back and his cock throbs in between your lips, emptying himself into your mouth. Eagerly, you swallow what he gives you – and it’s a lot; thick streams of cum paint your tongue white.

Ashton pulls away from you once his cock starts to soften, tucking himself back into his trousers and gently helping you up from off your knees. “That was- shit, that was really fuckin’ good.”

“I- uh.. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You reply a bit bashfully. “Now, do you mind if Harry and I…” You trail off, hoping he’d take the hint that you wanted to be alone with your significant other.

Thankfully, he does. Ashton turns to look at himself in the mirror above the sink, straightening himself out before saying goodbye to you and Harry, then asking your boyfriend to text him. He unlocks the door and disappears into the club.

You make quick work of locking it once more, then face your boyfriend. Harry gestures you over to him and the minute you’re standing in front of him, both of his hands grip your waist. He wastes no time in undressing your lower half and bending you over the sink, one of his hands reaching to pull at your hair so your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror. He’s being rough, but you hadn’t expected much else; whenever he got really aroused, his dominant side would peak significantly.

“Did you like having Ashton’s dick down your throat, darling? I know you did, I can feel just how wet you are.” He teases you, the head of his length pressing up against your entrance. “I think you enjoyed it a bit too much, Y/N. D’you need to be reminded of who you belong to, baby?”

You swallow thickly, eyes meeting his through the mirror, “Yes.”

“Sorry? Didn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “Yes, Daddy.”

The feeling of Harry’s cock stretching you out overwhelms your senses, your nails claw at the sink as he bottoms out. “Have to be quick,” He grunts as his hips start to move, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy at an unrelenting pace, “but I’ll make damn sure you know who you belong to once m’ finished.”

You can’t speak, your lips are parted as heavy breaths and choked moans roll off of your tongue as your boyfriend takes you. Harry’s right hand finds your clit, the pads of his fingers start toying with the sensitive pearl. “Look at you, takin’ my cock like the perfect slut that y’ are. Should fulfill more of your fantasies if this is how bloody good you’ll be.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes- yes, please!” You mewl, the prospect of exploring more of your desires with the man that you love makes you more aroused, your pussy clenches around his cock at the thought. “I- I love being your p-perfect little slut.”

“I know, angel. So fuckin’ perfect f’ Daddy.”

A whine leaves your lips, “God, Harry, I’m gonna cum.”

“Not before you tell me who you belong to, baby.”

Another whine leaves your lips; he’s playing a game with you and if you don’t obey the rules, you won’t get to orgasm. You need to orgasm.

“Yours, Harry. I- I’m all yours.”

He gives a particularly rough thrust and his teeth scrape at your ear, “Who’s pussy is this?”

You gasp, “Yours.”

“That’s right, angel. Now you can cum f’ me.”

Harry’s fingers on your clit continue to rub quick circles, his eyes fixated on your features twisting up in pure ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard; jaw slack, eyes pinched shut, pussy throbbing around his cock.

The feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice triggers his own orgasm. He buries his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the loud groan that reverberates in his chest, his stomach clenching as he empties himself inside of you.

“Holy shit.” You chuckle breathlessly as your orgasms begin to dissipate. Harry’s hand falls away from your clit and he gingerly begins to pull out of you, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the feeling.

“Are you alright?” He asks, helping you steady yourself as you straighten up.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. I do have a question for you,” You begin, just as you both start redressing, “were you being serious about fulfilling more of my fantasies? Or was that the testosterone talking?”

Harry grins, “Definitely not just the testosterone. We’ve never actually discussed what sexual fantasies you’ve had.”

“Do you have any?” You ask curiously, quietly wracking your brain for a possible answer he might give.

“Not very many, but I do have a few. Don’t think we should begin discussing them now, darling. We’ve been in here for a long time.” He replies, taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, then wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Right,” You giggle, “we should go.”

Harry reaches to unlock the bathroom door and leads you back out into the club, the both of you exiting with smug expressions on your faces and one shared thought…

If this was only one of your fantasies, what else could you both explore?

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lovinglokilaufeyson · 2 months

Text

Catastrophe - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Druid)

Warnings: BG3 Act I spoilers, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Suggestive, Angst if you squint, NOT proofread, Reader is a chronic people pleaser/SIMP/really oblivious (and a little bit of an idiot with initiative), Astarion is a bit oblivious and also a SIMP, use of Astarion’s classic pet names, as well as “kitten”

This is a similar concept to a fic I have read before, although I can’t exactly remember the name or the author. If I do find it, I will link it here.

Wordcount: 2,415

Summary: Astarion meets you as a cat, and you find it an easy way to be around him while maintaining your crush. You maintain your cover for weeks, until suddenly the team gets ambushed, and you are forced to reveal your identity.

Astarion was very intimidating to you. He had revealed himself as a vampire to you, only after he tried to drink your blood late one night. You let him, of course. You were too worried about the wellbeing of the rest of the team that you seldom worried about your own needs. So, even though you were scared of Astarion drinking your blood, you wanted to please him even more. It didn’t help that you happened to have a massive crush on the man, which always tempted you to say “yes” to him.

You learned of Astarion’s love for cats one night when you had decided you needed some cozy time. It was after a long trek back to camp, late at night where you had stripped yourself of your clothing before transforming into a simple feline, a black housecat. Your form had simple white patches along your back, neck, and face. You peeked outside the back of your tent, trotting stealthily towards a nearby stream. Suddenly, you were plucked up from the ground, and you mewled out on instinct. “Oh, kitty kitty. You – are coming with me.” Astarion held you up above his face, and you stared down at his crimson eyes. Should you reveal yourself? You wondered. You ultimately decided against it, letting your chartreuse-toned eyes hit his, and he looked up at you in – love? Admiration? What was this feeling?

That night, Astarion took you back to his tent, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Your fur was so soft that he was nearly intoxicated by it. Astarion really did love cats, there were many nights outside of the bars he frequented that he attempted to get away, if only for a moment, to pet one – or a few, if he was lucky – of the cats in the alleyway. It was always the highlight of his night. When he saw you nimbly walking around, his eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas. That night, he fell asleep in his bedroll, with you curled up on his chest, purring incessantly.

When he woke up the next morning, you were gone. Thankfully for him, it was the sweetest sleep he had had in centuries. After that night, you made it your mission to approach Astarion late at night at camp. This particular evening, you had returned from Emerald Grove, and had exhausted all possible resources. There were very few nights where Astarion missed out on cuddle time, but you wanted to make sure that he was the one to hold you tonight. You sauntered over to his tent expectantly, pawing at the curtain, meowing gently. That was his cue to open it up for you. “Hello, pet” he spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, taking you into his arms. He placed a chitter of kisses into your cheek, then laying down once more. You climbed up on top of him, careful to be gentle with your claws on his bare chest.

“I missed you, dear.” Astarion spoke, bringing his hands to pet along your back, popping your butt up when he got too far back, to which your response was to mewl. “Sorry.” He murmured. “You know, sweet kitty. I don’t know what will happen when we leave the grove.” His words cut you like a knife. What would you do? Showing up to the team’s next camp out would certainly be – suspicious. He would have to take you with him, but that would also require you – in your human form – being missing from the group. You figured that would cause some problems.

“You should just stick around, and I’ll take you with me.” He spoke, trotting his finger along your whiskers. You purred in response. “You know, if I could just buck up and really talk to her, we wouldn’t have to be cuddle buddies.” Who was she? You hissed, pulling away from him, retreating further away from him. “You are a smart one, aren’t you? Here, kitty kitty. I didn’t mean it. You, me, and Y/N can all cuddle together, how about that?” You nearly shifted out of excitement, Astarion had not released this information to you prior, even in cat form. Astarion was fairly difficult to read. You figured that his attempts to flirt with you were all – fake? In jest?

However, perhaps he was telling the truth. That, or maybe he knew. No, no, no. No way. Astarion would have confronted you by now. Or said something. A snide remark. Anything. You still stood further away from him, timidly. “Oh, kitty kitty. Come on over. Please?” He tutted in disappointment, bringing a hand out towards you. You couldn’t resist those soft, veiny hands of his. You purred, staggering towards him once more. You pushed your whiskers against his pinky, as he fluttered his finger up and down within your mane. He clicked his tongue in approval, as you drag your frame against his arm. In the midst of your lovely purrs, you were startled by a conglomeration of shouting, and then a loud “boom” coming from outside of the tent. You cowered as Astarion peeled the curtain of his tent back, where he was greeted by an abundance of smoke. He exited quickly, careful not to let much of the cloud infiltrate his space, where you were still housed.

“We’ve been ambushed!” spoke Karlach, loud and boisterous. Fuck. Of course. Astarion thought. You were thinking similarly but didn’t know how to best approach the situation. It would be quite incriminating to exit Astarion’s tent now, out of cat form.

Astarion, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Gale stood outside, clearly shaken from the impact of what had come along. There were many goblins that had infiltrated the area. 5 at least, for each member of the party. The smoke dissipated after a while, and you were able to peer out and see the confrontation. The party was doing alright in battle until Shadowheart collapsed from an impact. “Where is Y/N when you need her?” Wyll shouted, bringing realization to the group, and to Astarion. You were nowhere to be found. Fuck, where is she? He thought. He attempted to maneuver over to your tent to find you, which is when you decided you needed to act. Now. Which, maybe you should have swallowed your pride and done so earlier. But now your companions were getting hurt, which made you want to act more defensively.

You shifted out of cat form, grabbing the nearest piece of clothing (which happened to be one of Astarion’s dress shirts) and covering yourself with it. It was long enough to cover you somewhat modestly, although team would likely see parts of you that they weren’t exactly used to. Alas, it was a do or die situation, and you had let your anxiety get the best of you for far too long.

Meanwhile, Astarion had gotten slashed several times in his attempts to reach your tent. Not only did he want confirmation that you were okay, but if you were, he wanted you to please heal the rest of the party, himself included. You dashed out of his tent as Astarion was hit again. This one was hard, a thud to the gut. His eyelids became heavy as his vision blurred. But he could see you, finally feel your presence. And you were wearing… his shirt? Something within him clicked, and he realized everything. Of course you were that damn precious feline. In a sudden moment, you had cast cure wounds on Astarion, who was clearly in the worst shape of them all from tumbling across the camp to check on you. You watched as life came back into his eyes, as he stared at you in awe. You entangled the remaining enemies, leaving them helpless to move. There was one goblin who had just struck Astarion, and you cast thorn whip to tug the creature towards you. “There she is!” Karlach grinned in excitement and admiration.

It was apparent that your release from Astarion’s tent was not pertinent at the present moment. However, you recognized that it would definitely be something that would be mentioned later once combat had subsided. The rest of the battle went considerably better than the first half, and you were able to heal Shadowheart once it was all over. “Well, we might want to reconsider camp placement” you stated to the rest of your companions. They all nodded in agreement. Suddenly, you felt a hand slither around your waist from behind, and breath on your ear. “We should reconsider the placement of your tent – next to mine” he whispered, then followed up, “or, how about you just never leave my tent. I’m good with that too, kitten.” This was proceeded with a gentle nibble on your ear. You nearly gasped but managed to cover it up by cupping your hand over your mouth in a quick motion.

You almost went to scold him, but refrained from doing so, since you were also deserving of scolding at the present moment. You spent the remainder of the night moving the camp to a more remote location. It was past midnight when you were able to reconvene at the new campsite, everyone was fairly exhausted after the events of earlier in the evening.

Astarion hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since, and he took special care to walk behind you on the way to the new campsite, admiring your rear end. You were still fairly coherent of the fact that you and Astarion would need to have some sort of conversation regarding your previous actions. After all, you had been snuggling together every night for several weeks. To your knowledge, not so much to his. However, now that he knew, he was going to go to any length to snuggle your form in his arms tonight, that was for certain.

Astarion’s festering admiration for you had been going on for a few weeks. He hadn’t realized just how much until his feelings were revealed to be reciprocated. Clearly, you snuggling up on his chest every night was no accident, and he was grateful for that fact. He just wished he had approached you sooner in your human form.

You wondered if you had overstepped with Astarion or if he was upset with you. Instead of walking next to you towards the new camp, he walked behind. It made you feel like perhaps he didn’t feel like talking with you. Or needed to process things.

This caused you to make a beeline directly towards your tent once you were set up. The rest of the party had gone to bed shortly after, aside from Astarion, who stood, looking confused that you hadn’t approached him after camp was set up once more. His eyebrows scrunched together, indicating the thoughts that puzzled him deep within. He wondered if perhaps you were simply using him, or if you were not as fond of him as he truly believed. He looked at his bedroll, approaching it, kneeling down, and then laying on his back as he usually did to fall asleep. Except – he couldn’t. He couldn’t, for the life of him, allow his heavy lids to fall and send him into slumber. He couldn’t sleep without you. He sighed, finally surrendering, and leaving his tent in search of yours. You had put up your tent close to his, which is something that he indicated he wanted. Maybe that was a good sign? Astarion wondered.

Alas, Astarion was quite correct in his assumptions. You were absolutely wide awake. Your eyes were agape, which would be heavily attested to the “lack” of Astarion in your presence, at least until now. Your body turned towards the entrance as you felt the moonlight pour into your tent. You stared up at the shadowy figure that housed Astarion’s carmine coated irises. “Oh good, you’re awake. I didn’t want to have to be that creep that you woke up next to in the morning.” You sent a puzzled expression his way in response.

“I can’t sleep without you, darling. And I know we have lots to talk about, but I know right now we both need sleep. So please, just let me revel in your cuddles.” You nodded in response this time, opening up your bedroll and ushering him inside. You were still delicately dressed in his button up shirt, and the sight nearly drove him mad. But he had to stay relaxed. You needed to sleep. Both of you.

He began to undress himself, which was not a big deal to you at all, of course. You had seen him naked these past few weeks more time than you could count. He left his underwear on of course, and you could see that he was slightly erect underneath. It made you a little giddy that you had any kind of physical affect on him. He nearly dove into the bedroll with you, excited to hold your human form. Don’t get him wrong, the cat was lovely as well, but he definitely enjoyed your human form a bit more. Your supple legs glided along his until he allowed you to entangle your legs with his. He was cold, naturally, but he was addicted to the warmth that radiated from your body. Similarly, you felt drawn to his cool skin, how it managed to alter your temperature so that you could mold together perfectly.

You were faced towards one another, and you analyzed every perfect feature on Astarion’s face. He did the same with you, He reached his hands towards your chin, holding it with the pad of his thumb and the lower portion of his index finger. “Darling” he caught your attention, and you gazed at him, meeting his eyes where they were taking in every part of you.

“Yes?” You replied. “May I kiss you?’ He asked tenderly, and all you could do was give a gentle nod. “Please.” Astarion’s lips seemed to hit yours before you could even say the word, your lips colliding in an imperfect, exhausted exchange. However, it was the most tender, real kiss that Astarion (and yourself) had had in a long while.

That night, you both slept the best you had in years, the presence of one another seemingly protecting you from any incoming nightmares, anxieties, or fears. Astarion didn’t know what would come next for you, but he knew he wanted it to be together.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion vampire #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fandom #astarion fanfiction #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #tav x astarion

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sungbeam · 9 months

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nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: my submission for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn fluff #the boyz fanfic #dbn: summer on you

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milunalupin · 2 months

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Hiiii congrats on the 100 followers 🍾 can I request a hockey player!James x reader in an already established relationship? Where jamie sees reader wearing one of his jerseys as a good luck charm (love-induced placebo effect) and one day, reader comes into a match WITHOUT the jersey?? The rest of how shenanigans is up to u thanks!

ty so so much for requesting, i hope this is hockey-y enough lol <3

— lucky charm

hockey player!james potter x reader ★ 860 words

a/n - i don't know anything about hockey so please bare with me

James was running around the flat like a madman, muttering something about cross checking and knee pads. He pushed past you a little too hard, retracing his steps to mumble a 'sorry' as he kisses your temple. Today's hockey game was very important, according to your boyfriend. As captain of the Gryffindors, he would not allow his team to lose their biggest rivals, the Slytherins. Your nose scrunched is disgust as you watched him pack his dirty lucky socks, walking to the kitchen to grab something to eat during the game.

As he was zipping up his game bag, you walked back over with a few snacks and his water bottle. He smiled fondly at you while accepting the bags of pretzels and baby carrots.

"I'll see you soon love," he wraps you in a tight hug, pulling away from you to look down at you sternly. "Don't forget to wear my jersey please."

Your eyes widened, and let out a sound of disbelief. "It was one time Jamie, three years ago!"

"I know but love of my life, apple of my eye, we really need to win this game." he whined, lightly shaking you by your shoulders.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed him towards the door, reassuring him that you wouldn't forget. James pressed a few more kisses to your cheeks before clambering out the door with his duffel bag hung over his shoulder.

James had met you at a post-win celebration at a local bar, trying to impress you with all his hockey talk. Having had a few shots and nursing a cocktail, your tipsy self just nodded and smiled pretending to understand what the muscular cutie was talking about. When you met up again sober you admitted to not knowing anything about hockey, which didn't seem to be too much of a problem as he had asked you to be his just a few weeks later. Although you still didn't fully understand the sport, you still showed up to every game as James' biggest fan.

Back in the kitchen, you finished washing last night's dishes and made some hot chocolate for yourself to take to the game, filling a tumbler and not bothering to fully twist the cap on as you were now running a few minutes behind schedule. Scrambling to slip your shoes on by the door, of course you tripped over James's converse as you always do, only this time you're hot chocolate spills all over your white 'Potter' jersey.

You squeeze your eyes shut and groan. "Oh, he's gonna murder me."

You found your seat just in time for the faceoff, shivering from the cold metal of the arena benches. Maroon and emerald players danced around the ice, getting into their formations for the first round. James was in the middle as the team's center, waiting for the puck to drop. As soon as it did James took control, then passing it to his teammate. You watched as it flew from player to player, the sounds on skates on ice and the opinionated crowd bringing a smile to your face. Gryffindors fans started to stand when James was near the Slytherin's goal with the puck, then boo-ing the green team when the puck was stolen from him. The game was going by smoothly, you snacking on some pretzels as the two teams kept switching off on who had control of the puck.

You stood up and screamed with excitement as James scored, waving your arms around. His head whipped over to your usual section to find you, his bright grin faltering as he noticed your appearance. He let his eyes linger on your plain maroon sweater a few moments more before scoffing lightly and skating back to his position for the next period. The next few rounds were played a dirtier, with the Slytherin players checking the Gryffindors into the tempered glass and tripping them onto the ice.

The game ended with the Gryffindors winning 7-5, maroon-clad fans throwing up popcorn and cheering in celebration. You followed the crowd out, making your way towards the locker rooms, finding a spot against the wall to wait for James.

You watched as he walked out without paying you any attention. Frowning, you jogged to catch up to him. "Jamie, hey- James!"

He turned around with the biggest pout you'd ever seem from anyone, mumbling so softly you almost didn't hear him. "You're not wearing my jersey."

"I spilled hot chocolate on it so I had to change, I'm sorry my love." you stepped forward, taking his hands in yours. "But hey, you still won the game and you played amazingly, so maybe it wasn't so lucky after all."

"Well the jersey was for extra luck, my main lucky charm is you, so thank you for being here." he sighed and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

"You're welcome, although you don't really need luck because you're so talented, James." You chuckled, feeling him squeeze you a little tighter as he nodded.

"But I was worried about today's game for a second so can you please wear the jersey next game?"

#milunalupin's 100 party !#marauders x reader #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #hockey player!james potter

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fanaticsnail · 5 months

Text

Something Like That

Masterlist here, Request link and mood board here.

Word Count: 4,048

Hi everyone! This is the last x-mas fic I can push out before my time away over the holiday period interstate. I hope you enjoy reading for our boy Zoro. Thank you @sordidmusings for keeping me motivated! Merry Christmas, Anon! Just in case it peaks your interest @gingernut1314

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas, talks of battle scars, kissing, dancing

Just like all of the times you had ventured to Baratie, this time had every intention of being no more than passing time with delicious food. The floating restaurant atop a mighty ship was your favorite stop-off on your way home to Lougetown to visit with your extended family; the food’s glowing reputation almost did justice to the divine quality and the accompanying drinks were what dreams were made of. The fact that the staff was comprised of reformed pirates also held an appeal, considering your ties to that lifestyle as a skilled archer.

Bidding farewell to the vessel you had bartered onto for voyage, you heard a strange amount of merriment floating melodically from the wide fish-mouth at the bar lounge of the grand restaurant. You furrowed your brows, arching one up as curiosity held you captivated by the songs seeping to the surface with a wide array of demonstrated skill. Some vocals were sung blissfully, others shouted with no skill depicted within their throats.

Taking deliberate steps with your bow in hand, quiver strapped firmly against your waistbelt and traveling satchel thrown over your shoulder, you sauntered to the grand doors and lobby of the restaurant to meet the matradee. He welcomed you with a broad smile, which rose to sit comfortably and warmly, peaking at the apples of his cheeks. His regular white formal garb was replaced with a deep emerald green dinner jacket, a small bushel of pointed leaves with red shimmery berries strung together by twine.

“Welcome back to Baratie!” He exclaimed with glee, “I have your usual table awaiting you.” He gestured a guiding hand to the right and indicated for you to follow his direction to the bottom of the twirled staircase.

Your confusion seemed to set in further as you took in your surroundings. The usual bare bars of the railing were ornately decorated with vines of sharpened, needle-like sprigs and small warm lights shining amongst the shrubbery akin to starlight. Your gaze was drawn upwards, noticing a small and sporadic assortment of floral clusters clinging to the roof and down the pillars of the supporting canopy. The bunches were of pale sage green, floating romantically down and arching their spindles out to grasp the pearled white flowers amongst the greenery.

As your gaze fell to rest upon the circular room, you noticed individuals joining against each other in embraces of romantic twirling and swaying. Their voices would raise to join with the tune regardless of how skilled they were to carry the tune, prompting you to raise an apprehensive smile to your lips.

“What is going on, sir?” you asked the fishman matradee as he chaperoned you to your regular table, “this all seems rather strange and unusual for a Monday afternoon, don’t you think?” Your tone of playful jest prompted him to chuckle in response, pulling out your chair for you to sit within your corner booth. Wordlessly, he took your bow and satchel while you unstrapped your quiver to disarm yourself to place your valuable items to be placed in the cloakroom.

“One of our kitchen-hands has returned to us, settling his dining debt from his time with us,” the matradee informed you, a playful twinkle drawn up to his eye, “and in celebration, we’re attempting to showcase a custom he had picked up on his travels.”

You hummed in response with a polite nod, brows raising with interest as you pulled your gaze over to view the diners amongst the crowd. Noticing jovial laughter and an uproar of cheers, you pulled your gaze to seek out its source. A young man with a straw hat atop dark loose curls immediately captured your attention, his eyes upturned and jaw hanging wide as he allowed another heartily laugh escape from his chest. His arms were hooked around the necks of two of his companions, drawing them in closer to his chest; a woman with short orange hair clutched within his right arm, while a bandana-clad man with a similar cheery expression lay gathered within his left.

Scanning over the remainder of the party members surrounding him, your eyes first drew to examine the tall, blonde companion. His hair skewed the view of his left eye, but what you could make of his right; he was a delight to look at. After holding your eyes against the blonde for longer than you truly thought appropriate, your eyes met with the final stranger of the party. His dark hazelnut orbs immediately locked on your probing gaze, bearing a protective intensity, his moss-coloured locks raised without much care as to which direction the strands fell.

As his eyes continued to hold your attention, you stared him down to reciprocate his wordless challenge. His brows furrowed briefly before a wolf-like grin rose to his lips, smirking up to the right-hand side of his face with an air of arrogance. Training as a skilled archer had drilled the practice of continual focus on a multitude of targets. This small challenge set your heart alight with a similar thrill to hunting a foe, the green-haired man not shying away from your attention and focus.

He was captivating. His air of protection and loyalty to his companions transferred without question of translation. You watched as he drew his dominant hand to fall to rest against a white blade hilt at his side, his wrist hanging limply against the handle atop the scabbard. He arched his left brow up at you and gestured with his chin, indicating to you that he would not shy away from a fight if one was to be offered to him. You arched up your brow with your own smirk, gesturing lightly with your hands over your torso and falling down to your waist; indicating you were currently unarmed.

Without breaking your gaze from his challenge, you reached your hand below the white tablecloth, shielding your hand from retrieving an item from your handbag beside you. You let out an audible laugh as you watched him fix his posture more upright, his smirk falling from his lips as his frown deepened in partial alarm. After feeling the hard object you were searching for, you raised it to no longer be obscured from view and rotated it within your hands to demonstrate how non-threatening the item was.

His face immediately dropped at his idiocy as his eyes took in the novel you were holding within your hands, closing his eyes and having a small smile rise to his lips. As soon as his eyes closed and soft chuckle fell from his lips, you relished in the knowledge that he was the first to back away from the intense wordless challenge he initiated with his eyes, indicating that you had won the small victory.

While his eyes were closed, you fully examined his face. Eyes first shamelessly raking over his hair, trailing down and over his closed eyes and settling on his parted lips. His coy smile now completely risen against his lips held a foreign beauty, the creases of his cheeks indicating such softness was not a common occurrence. He was intriguing, someone you would have considered pursuing should you have had more time between your usual meal at Baratie and the upcoming ferry you had booked to shepherd the remainder of your journey.

You shook your head, uncaring whether he would meet his intense gaze against yours again as you opened the pages of the novel you had begun reading on your journey out to sea, picking up where you last left off. The words whittled within the pages were of a variety of archery techniques and forms, a gift bestowed upon you by your favorite uncle - the one you held the most joy in rejoining with in Lougetown.

A gentle cough interrupts the passage you were skimming, drawing your attention up to the waiter beside you. He placed down in front of you a seasonal beverage, the steam rising from the rim wafting towards your nose to envelop your senses with its rich, velvety and creamy scent. You thanked the waiter as he placed an accompanying biscotti beside the treat, the crumbled texture littering the small side dish with pebbles of its buttery substance.

Reaching towards the handle, you raised the drink to your face, gently parting your lips and circling them to blow on the scorching liquid. After relinquishing your gentle blows to your particular satisfaction, you drew up the mug and took a quick sip of the contents. Immediately flooded by the indulgent flavor of the caramelized chocolate mixing with the creamy and decadent texture of the frothed milk. You sighed, breathing out your pleasure at being once again welcomed by the perfect combination of flavors offered to you at Baratie. Placing down again onto the circular, ceramic dish, you lifted your novel to continue reading from the last page you left of; blissfully ignorant or willfully ignoring the intense pair of eyes continuing to hold firm their locked gaze upon you.

“Something the matter, Zoro?” the Straw-Hat captain asked from beside the swordsman, clutching the bone of a perfectly prepared tomahawk steak within his right hand while chewing on the sinew, “you’ve been staring at that table for a long time now.” The swordsman remained quiet, not truly hearing the words spoken to him.

“”M’fine, Captain,” He mumbled. It was true, he had become entranced by the person he was currently inspecting. His bewitchment had only intensified as he witnessed your knowing and examining gaze falling to seek out the loud and joyous laughter falling in the air of the surroundings. You had to be a hunter, by the looks of you: whether it be seeking bounties, hunting animals or contesting mark-matching with the bow you allowed the fishman to leave with.

“You sure there, Moss-Head?” Sanji taunted him, his signature smirk ruffling the temperament of the swordsman further, “you seem awfully focussed on the-... -Oh. Oh, they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” Zoro snapped his gaze up to focus on the chef whose head was now shamelessly pointed directly at you, eyes searching your body and examining him the way Zoro was trying hard not to.

“What of it, waiter?” he growled in a disinterested snarl. Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from your body over to face the swordsman once more, eyes darkening with a challenging intensity.

“I think they’re very pretty, indeed,” Sanji’s exposed brow twitched in an upturned flirtatious suggestion. Usopp smirked, leaning in on his elbows to get a better view of the show Sanji was absolutely going to engage against the swordsman while Nami shook her head. Rolling her eyes, she sat back to rest her shoulders against the plush booth, tilting her head down to shield her smirk to remain hidden in her expression of amusement at their rivalry.

“I think they’re so pretty, in fact,” Sanji snuck another glance at you, watching as you pursed your lips while turning another page of your novel, “I think I’m going to ask them to dance the next round.”

“What’d you say, waiter?” Zoro tilted his head, attempting to hold his composure and feign disinterest at the challenge. The subtle gruff anchor of his voice gave him away, Zoro winced at his own vocal tone. Sanji chuckled at the failed attempt, choosing to draw his elbows against the table and cradle his chin to rest atop his laced fingertips.

“It’s not like you’re man enough to ask her to dance, anyway,” Sanji’s smirk rose into a broader grin, relishing in Zoro’s physical reaction of sharpening his posture to rise against the jab. The blonde chef chuckled darkly, drawing his lips to press against his fingertips before suggesting with another jab: “Someone like that looks like they’d prefer to be held in the arms of a real man, not something like you, Demon.”

“I’ll let the two of you know when I see one,” the orange-haired navigator murmured in a low tone, her voice immediately capturing the attention of the two bickering crewmates. Usopp feigned pain, clutching at his heart briefly before nodding in confirmation of her comments: both flinging their heads back in unbridled laughter at the motion. Luffy continued to remain blissfully ignorant, finally sucking at the large bone to rid the object from all edible elements of the dish while offering a small laugh of his own. Although he truly had no idea why they were laughing at that moment, he was happy his crew was getting along - to the best of his knowledge, anyway.

That was the occasion after all: merriment and joyfulness being the central point of the entire reason for this celebration. Sanji and Zoro turned back to face each other again, eyes bearing an electric intensity as they met their rival’s challenge.

“No,” Zoro gruffly growled, his lips curling in a small snarl. Sanji arched his head to stretch out his neck, eyes closing as he felt a gentle ‘pop’ and sighing in reaction.

“You gonna actually approach them and ask them to dance?” Sanji lazily taunted him, his smirk returning, “or am I going to get there first?”

At that final nudge, Zoro was away from the table and almost stomping his heavy boots against the polished floorboards like a chastised toddler. Sanji chuckled at the response, reaching forward to claim a portion of the confit potatoes to place on his plate.

“I gotta know, man,” Usopp leant in towards Sanji, his broad smile rising to his cheeks, “were you that interested in them, or just wanted to get a rise from Zoro? I can never tell with you.”

“That’s my secret, Great Captain Usopp,” Sanji’s left corner of his lip curled up in a smirk with a playful glimmer in his eye returning, “I’m always interested in getting a rise out of him. Beautiful strangers are always a bonus. My favorite is when those two things are not mutually exclusive,” he chuckled, collecting an assortment of ingredients on his fork and raising the utensil up to his lips, “two birds with one stone, and all that.”

The thud of heavy boots alerted you to a figure closing the distance between themselves and your body. The thumps of the hard boots against the polished floor reverberated with a sense of danger. Patiently, with a sigh exiting your parted lips, you placed a small piece of parchment back into your novel to tab the chapter and slowly turned to look at the approaching figure.

“Can I help you?” you asked, a bored tone with a subtle air of cautious warning befalling your cadence. As you drew your eyes up, you noticed the same intense gaze from earlier falling to meet your sat position on the table. His eyebrow seemed to twitch, indicating slight agitation as his jaw was clenched tightly shut. Cocking your head to the side, you allowed a partial softness to grace your features as you danced your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs.

“I-, uh-,” the man was stumbling over his words, unable to string a sentence of cohesion together. He raised his hand to the scruff of his neck, pinching the flesh with his calloused hands and grimacing at his expression.

“You?” you cooed up at him, a smirk rising once more to your lips. You shook your head, hair dancing at the small sway of movement. Your attention was once again captivated by him; the arrogant energy you had initially met your gaze with was dismantled under his apprehensive aura.

Zoro had every intention of proving how much of a ‘real man’ he was to his crew, although not so much of a display in masculinity; but more of a need to not allow Sanji the pleasure or satisfaction of flirting with someone so enchanting as you. He was going to simply offer his hand to you, smirk in a gesture to ask you to join him on the dance floor and parade you in front of his crew. But alas, as soon as his eyes met with yours once again; he felt helpless and small under your huntress eyes.

“Well, are you going to stand there all rigid, swordsman?” you taunted, reclining in your seat and resting your elbow atop the backrest, “Or are you going to take a seat?”

Again, Zoro found himself taken aback by your direct approach. He followed your index and middle finger as you gestured to the empty seat in front of you. He shook his head a little to rid him of his prior bewilderment and then apprehensively moved to withdraw the chair to take a seat. You took him in, watching his deliberate movements in the way he sat atop the chair: every action intentional. As he sat, he offered no conversation other than broody silence. His eyes would flitter over to check-in on his prior dining companions and grimacing as his gaze was met with taunting gestures from his crew.

“Friends of yours?” you asked him, brow arched and reaching for the handle of your mug.

“Something like that,” he uttered in a gruff tone, arms folding abrasively over his chest. You chuckled at his tone, taking a small sip from your mug and eyeing him deliberately.

“Care to share further, or would you prefer having another wordless exchange?” you placed the empty cup back down on the dish and offered another challenging smile. He snapped his eyes back to yours and his smirk rose again to his lips.

“They’re my crew,” his rumbly chuckle was withheld in his chest beneath his smirk, “I like half of them, but respect the lot of them.”

You hummed in response, index finger dancing atop the rim of your relinquished mug of hot chocolate. “Would you like to tell me more? I’m all ears about the ones you like and the ones you’re less fond of.”

Over the course of the next few hours, the swordsman and you would swap tales of travels throughout the East Blue and the Grand Line. Foes bested, beasts conquered and sorrows overcome: the tales of injuries you had both granted to opponents and received at the hands of them. He leant back against the back of his chair and slowly unbuttoned his shirt and hooked his fingers within the collar and hemline of his shirt to draw it back to showcase proudly to you. You felt your breath hitching in your throat at not only the physique of the swordsman, but in awe at the large healed mark slashed across his torso. You felt utterly ill-seasoned with your smaller indents of arrows and thrown dagger marks littering your shoulders. As you hooked your middle finger in your left shoulder strap and coyly revealed the small silver, healed markings, Zoro was held captivated by the marks to showcase your tales of battle.

Enamored, awestruck and enchanted; you both held a small lilt of encaptured silence, leaning in on your forearms against the white tablecloth and gazing into the eyes of one another. Respecting your mutual combatant skill, both you and Zoro’s eyes fell half-lidded in adoration as you held each other’s undivided attention.

The music and merriment fell into a slow tune, reflective of the seasonal tradition Baratie was attempting to celebrate with succession. Zoro was the first to break the silence between you, placing his left hand on the table with his palm up.

“Would you wanna dance?” he asked, his drawl gruff but attempting to remain polite in his request. You smiled, reaching your right hand to fall within his own, his hand immediately circling around your fingers firmly. His thumb circled over your four fingers, caressing his calloused and experienced hands over your skin.

“You don’t seem like much of a dancer, Zoro,” you commented, both rising to your feet. He drew you in close. Keeping his left hand extended upwards, and raking his right over the mid of your back to draw your torso flush with his, he uttered: “I’m not, but it seemed appropriate. Considering the holiday, and all.”

“Ah, yes. We never did quite get to discussing what all this,” you gestured with your chin, smiling at the decorations surrounding the room, “was all about.”

“I’m not really sure on the minor details,” he shrugged, awkwardly swaying you to the music, “Cap’n just said something about different traditions needing to be incorporated. Something about food, music, dancing, and decoration-...-oh. Oh, no-.”

You furrowed your brows, looking up at the roof to follow after his risen gaze. A small sprig of white, pearled flowers hung over your heads, accompanied by sage-coloured oblong leaves wrapped in ribbons of satin and twine. You cocked your head, left brow raising in curiosity at the flowers and their significance. Drawing your gaze back to the swordsman in front of you, you noticed he was stooping himself all the more closer to you.

“What are you doing, swordsman?” you questioned, halting him in his descention towards you.

“This is one of those traditions,” he said, unlacing your right hand from his left and wordlessly asking with his eyes for permission to cradle your cheek within his palm. You looked at the hand first, then drew your eyes back up to meet his intense gaze. Smiling, you placed your cheek into his awaiting palm while holding his gaze firmly against your own.

“Touching a stranger’s face beneath strange flowers is a strange tradition,” you furrowed your brows at him once more in curiosity.

“Kissing them beneath strange flowers,” he corrected you, leaning to join his lips immediately against your own. A small squeak fled from your lips, eyes widening as you felt the intensity falling from his chapped lips onto your own.

This was not how you pictured your return to Baratie to go at all. Sure, you had dreamed of meeting a handsome stranger and sharing an embrace with them. The stars just never aligned for you in any way that drew you close enough to share a kiss with them, only ever moments of story swapping or sharing a meal or two with many travelers accompanying you.

You allowed yourself to become relaxed into the embrace, reaching your hands up to circle his neck below the assortment of flowers. His brows furrowed in concentration as he inhaled sharply through his nose in reaction to your reciprocation. You smiled, closing your eyes and tickling the scruff of his neck beneath your fingertips; lacing his untamed sea-sprayed locks within them. He expertly opened your mouth to taste more of your lips by angling his chin upwards against your own. A small groan rumbled within his chest, passing from his mouth to fall against your own as he continued to cradle you against himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace with your eyes remaining closed. You felt a small pause falling with his next actions, before you felt a warm forehead press against your own. You reopened your eyes, your half-lidded and lazy smile mirrored against the face of the swordsman you just shared a kiss with.

Interrupting your embrace, an announcement was called over the speakers. The crackle of cables and wires sprung to life within the metal relay, alerting you with a vocal command: “The next vessel to Lougetown has arrived. All those traveling to Lougetown, report to the peer with your documents. Next vessel to Lougetown will depart in twenty minutes.”

“That’s me, unfortunately,” you sighed, eyes remaining closed but lips drawn up in a wide smile.

“Business in Lougetown?” Zoro’s whisper rumbled within his chest.

“Something like that,” you withdrew your forehead from its place resting against his own, “much akin to your crew, although I’m held attached by biological relation.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Zoro smirked, eyes remaining partly glazed over enamored by your small daliance.

“I never ‘name drop’, swordsman,” you cooed up at him while unlacing your arms from his embrace, “but if you’re in the general area,” you retrieved your belongings from your table and laced your handbag and novel over your shoulder, “I’ll be at the G-5 Marine Base with my uncle for the next month for training.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he smirked, eyes upturning to indicate his joy at the thought of meeting with you once again.

#x reader #one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #xmas fic #opla xmas #mistletoe

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