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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you.

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--”

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though.

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump.

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.)

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome.��“Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm.

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid.

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread.

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses).

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago.

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #writing #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #not sfw #Anonymous

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 1

A/N: i am Very Very excited for this enemies to lovers au, and also just a quick message that this is about their characters! some characters might seem more villainous than they actually are (even on the smp) and scott and jimmy will absolutely end up being in a romantic relationship (even if it might take a while for them to get there >:)). also, i planned this fic before xornoth was introduced and before sausage started the assassin's guild thing, so if you were hoping for either of those things in this fic, i'm sorry to say that they will not be featured here! (xornoth may be hinted at though, no promises!) pls talk to me in the reblogs i am lonely /hj

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter, threats of violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Jimmy liked Katherine, he really did! She was one of his first allies, and even though she could come off as a little intense for the ruler of a flower forest, Jimmy really valued her friendship. However, her insistence on staying neutral… it bothered Jimmy. Or really, what bothered Jimmy was the fact that she insisted on having “House Blossom Alliance” meetings at her castle. And specifically, it was who was at these meetings that bothered Jimmy. Sure, there was Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl, three of Jimmy’s own allies, but the rest of the group wasn’t exactly on the best terms with him. Gem and Pearl were alright, he supposed, but Fwhip and Sausage were absolutely terrible. And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly bad about the winged elf ruler, but he just got on Jimmy’s nerves. He was just irritating, with his stupid “better-than-you” attitude, stupid smug grin, stupid perfect hair- he was just… stupid. Well, not really. Scott was actually really clever. But he always flaunted when he was right about something, which frankly was often. But he didn’t have to be so smug every time Jimmy was wrong about something.

“Jimmy, what do you know about defensive mob strategy? You can’t even keep people out of your empire,” Scott scoffed, as Jimmy was attempting to offer some advice on how to keep a base safe from monsters. Jimmy glared at the winged elf sitting across from him.

“Because I like to try and keep my empire welcoming, instead of being all high and mighty in the mountains,” Jimmy shot back. Scott rolled his eyes.

“More welcome to attack, Jimmy. How many times have you and Sausage squabbled over something inconsequential?” Scott asked dryly, getting an offended “hey!” from Sausage that he ignored, focusing only on Jimmy.

“Well… okay so maybe I’m not that great at defending against people, but mobs I can handle! They’re predictable, people aren’t,” Jimmy huffed. Scott smirked at Jimmy, and there it was- that smug expression when Jimmy was proven wrong about something.

“Maybe some people aren’t… but you sure are. I knew you’d get all riled up if I started pressing,” Scott taunted. Jimmy shot up from his chair, hand slamming down on the table as he glared at Scott and ignored the concerned voices of his allies.

“I haven’t even begun to be ‘riled up,’ Scott,” Jimmy fumed, hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword. Scott calmly rose from his seat, still smirking and looking like he was enjoying this far too much.

“What, you gonna fight me, fish boy?” Scott crooned, hand resting on the hilt of his own weapon.

“Maybe I will,” Jimmy growled, and Scott’s smirk grew into a grin.

“Oh, you are getting more riled up… can’t say I’m not enjoying the view,” Scott said in a near purr. Jimmy’s face grew warm as he gritted his teeth and tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword. Scott didn’t look nervous at all, only mildly intrigued, like Jimmy was a puzzle he was seconds away from solving.

“That’s enough!” Katherine shouted, jumping up from her seat at the head of the table and looking at the two of them with a disapproving glare. Scott and Jimmy instantly looked a little embarrassed, both finally remembering that they were in a room full of other rulers, and that it was supposed to be a peaceful meeting as they exchanged various tactics and information on trading.

“C’mon man, it’s not worth it,” Pixl murmured, gently tugging on Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy glared at Scott one last time before he sat back down. Scott looked entirely too pleased as he sat back down gracefully- how did someone even do that, sit down so fluidly like it was a part of a dance?!- and smiled far too innocently at Katherine. She was not having it, frowning with disapproval at both Scott and Jimmy until Scott sheepishly looked down at the table. Katherine sighed, seeming semi-satisfied as she sat back down.

“I think I’m gonna have to implement a rule about weapons at the next meeting… now don’t you two have something to say to each other?” Katherine said expectantly. Scott and Jimmy both looked at Katherine with confused expressions.

“Haven’t they said enough to each other?” Fwhip asked, sounding bored as he leaned back in his chair. Katherine rolled her eyes at Fwhip, and looked back at Scott and Jimmy.

“What I meant is that these two owe each other an apology,” Katherine said pointedly.

“What have I got to apologize for?! Scott started it!” Jimmy protested.

“It’s not my fault Jimmy’s easy to get all hot and bothered,” Scott said with an air of indifference, but the smirk directed at Jimmy told a different story. Jimmy’s face burned again.

“You stop that,” Jimmy scowled.

“Make me,” Scott replied smoothly.

“I’m confused, are they flirting or fighting now?” Sausage whispered far too loudly to Pearl. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head at Sausage.

“We’re not flirting!” Jimmy protested.

“Yeah, I can do way better than Jimmy,” Scott scoffed.

“Wha- hey! What’s that supposed to mean? I am a catch, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed, crossing his arms.

“Oh, so you want to be flirting now?” Scott crooned with a smirk.

“What?! No! You’re infuriating,” Jimmy shouted.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you,” Scott shot back smoothly. Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but was halted by a frustrated groan from Katherine.

“You know what? Fine! I declare this meeting adjourned. Everyone out! See you next week,” Katherine exclaimed with a sigh.

“Finally,” Fwhip muttered, getting up from the table first and striding out of the castle. Gem shook her head at his retreating figure, and turned to Katherine with an apologetic smile.

“What he means is thank you for inviting us to the meeting. I look forward to next week- and I’m sure Fwhip does too!” she said, gently patting Katherine’s hand before getting up and following after Fwhip. Pearl and Sausage were the next two to leave, thanking Katherine for inviting them as well. Then finally Scott left, simply bowing his head in respect to Katherine, but smirking at Jimmy before he took off.

“I hate that guy,” Jimmy muttered as he watched Scott fly away.

“I think you’ve made that clear, Jimmy. You’ve gotta stop picking fights you can’t win,” Katherine admonished with a sigh.

“I could have taken him!” Jimmy protested.

“And even if you couldn’t have, I would have avenged you,” Joel added. Lizzie and Pixl nodded in agreement, while Katherine buried her face in her hands.

“Peaceful! These meetings are supposed to be peaceful! I am definitely going to have people leave their weapons at the door at the next meeting,” she sighed, bringing her face up from her hands to lean back in her chair. Jimmy frowned, feeling a bit bad.

“I- sorry, Katherine. I shouldn’t have let Scott get under my skin so easily. I promise next meeting I won’t make a big fuss out of nothing,” Jimmy said solemnly, looking to Katherine with an apologetic smile. She smiled back, but it was a little strained and exasperated.

“It’s alright, Jimmy. Honestly Scott is just as much to blame as you are here. I just wished you two would have apologized to each other- you apologized to me just fine!” Katherine pointed out, her smile turning more bright and encouraging. Jimmy frowned, nose wrinkling slightly.

“Yeah, because I like you,” Jimmy huffed. Katherine giggled, leaning forward in her chair to clasp her hand over Jimmy’s and give it a light squeeze.

“That’s very sweet, but sometimes you’ve gotta apologize to people you don’t like, Jimmy,” Katherine said pointedly.

“From the way they were talking at the meeting, ‘like’ might be too weak of a word,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel poorly hid a laugh behind a cough, while Lizzie elbowed him while trying to hide her own amused smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Jimmy asked indignantly. Pixl looked at him blankly, raising an eyebrow.

“You told him that you were a catch, dude. How else are we supposed to interpret that?” Pixl replied with a laugh. Jimmy’s face flushed for what felt like the twentieth time that day.

“I wasn’t thinking straight!” Jimmy protested.

“Clearly,” Lizzie teased with a grin, no longer trying to hide it. The table erupted into laughter, and Jimmy couldn’t help but laugh too, even if it was at his own expense, and even if his friends were wrong. He was not interested in Scott in that way in the slightest, thank you very much. Their argumentative banter just got a little… carried away, that’s all. And he wasn’t saying he was a catch so that Scott would think so… he just had confidence in himself! And Scott was trying to wear down that confidence, Jimmy was just proving him wrong! At least, that’s what Jimmy told himself.

“So this is how the betrayal begins- first you fabricate an attraction to someone I despise-” Jimmy cut off his dramatic monologue with his own laughter, only causing the group to laugh louder.

“We’ll set you up with Sausage next,” Pixl said with a laugh.

“Now that is the ultimate betrayal,” Jimmy said with a shudder, grinning at Pixl all the while.

“Stop it, stop it- no one is betraying anyone! I’ll keel over from laughter with these backstabbing plans at this rate,” Katherine said, wiping at her eyes as the last of her laughs subsided.

“Alright, alright, if you insist. I should get going anyway, I’ve got a long trip back to Pixandria,” Pixl said, standing from the table.

“Safe travels! See you next week!” Katherine said with a wave. Jimmy and the others said their goodbyes, and with a nod and a smile Pixl equipped his elytra and walked out of the castle to fly off.

“Guess we should leave too, I’m sure you’ve got things to be working on,” Joel said, standing up from the table. Lizzie and Jimmy followed his lead. The three of them would often journey back to their empires together, seeing as they were all in fairly close range to each other. Katherine rose from the table with a sigh.

“Yeah, I’ve got some things to sort out. I’ll see you three next week- and I’m serious about the ‘leaving the weapons at the door’ rule,” she said, looking at each of them pointedly.

“Oh I’ll make sure these two follow through with that!” Lizzie said brightly.

“I was talking about you too, Lizzie,” Katherine said flatly. Lizzie placed a hand over her heart in mock offense.

“Me?! Oh please, next to these two I’m downright peaceful! Now we really must be going, nice seeing you!” Lizzie said far too innocently, grabbing both Joel and Jimmy by their arms and all but dragging them out of the castle.

“Oh uh, bye then! I guess,” Jimmy said with a lopsided grin and a wave from his free hand. Katherine shook her head fondly, waving goodbye back. The three of them made their way outside with only some minor grumbling from Joel about how he could walk, Lizzie. She only patted his cheek with a smile before equipping her elytra, Joel and Jimmy doing the same. And as the three allies took off into the skies and off to their own empires, Jimmy’s thoughts couldn’t help but wander back to Scott. Maybe he should try and patch things up, like Katherine suggested? He was a very good ally of Katherine’s as well- they were even planning a plushie business together! And he didn’t want Katherine to be stuck between another conflict again, like she had for all of his issues with Sausage. But how exactly Jimmy was going to fix things with Scott, he wasn’t sure. The winged elf was stubborn, and frankly so was Jimmy. It was unlikely either of them were going to give in or come to any sort of compromise. At the very least, Jimmy just hoped he could keep their arguments to just that- arguments. He couldn’t afford another war.

MCYT Fic Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed! And if you just want to specifically be tagged in this fic, I am open to making a specific taglist for it!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #katherine elizabeth #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #pixlriffs #pearlescentmoon #mythicalsausage #geminitay #fwhip #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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my-hyperfixations · 3 years

Text

Different Song Lyrics that Remind Me of Newtmas

hi I just watched The Death Cure for the first time two days ago and now im in the feels so I made this through crying

enjoy me passing my pain off to y’all

- “Just let me go, we’l meet again soon. Now wait, wait, wait, for me. Just hang around, I’ll see you when I fall asleep.” Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

- “And I’ll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind.” I Found - Amber Run

- “But it was not your fault but mine. And it was your heart on the line. I really f*cked it up this time, didn’ I my dear?” Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

- “Though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.” Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

- “You’re gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear, all that’s left is a ghost of you.” Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

- “You said forever now I drive alone past your street.” Drivers License, Olivia Rodrigo

- “Thought we had the time, had our lives, now you’ll never get older, older. Didn’t say goodbye now I’m frozen in time getting colder, colder. One last word, one last moment, to ask you why you left me here behind.” You said You’d Grow Old With Me - Michael Shulte

- “I will see you again, this is not where it ends, I will carry you with me, till I see you again.” See You Again - Carrie Underwood

- “You’ve got your peace now, but what about me?” You said You’d Grow Old With Me - Michael Shulte

- “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.” The Night We Met - Lord Huron

- “In case you don’t live forever let me tell you now, I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Ben Platt

- “You kept me breathing under the water when everyone else left me to drown. You were the light that shown through the darkness, now I’m blind ‘cause you’re not around.” Breathe Underwater - Bullet for my Valentine

- “And something is certain, I miss you around. And all that I want is to be with you.” Breathe Underwater - Bullet for my Valentine

- “Like a shooting star flying ‘cross the room, so fast so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me and I’ll never be the same here without you, you were gone too soon.” Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

- “This could be the end of everything so why don’t we go somewhere only we know.” Somewhere Only We Know - Glee Cast

- “When I close my eyes, I see you. No matter where I am.” Colder Weather - Zac Brown Band

- “Hold on I still want you. Come back I still need you.” Hold On - Chord Overstreet

- “When you said your last goodbye, I died a little bit inside. I lay in tears in bed all night, alone without you by my side.” All I Want - Kodaline

- “But if you loved me, why’d you leave me?” All I Want - Kodaline

- “For you, I'd risk it all, I'd rather crash, I'd rather crawl than never have your love at all, with only bricks to break my fall. For you, I'd risk it all” Risk It All - The Vamps

- “If I could do it all over, maybe I’d do it different, maybe I wouldn’t be here in this position. I found you then I lost you, looking back is torture, and it hurts to know I let you go.” True Love - Jordan Fisher

- “I will never forget you, you will always be by my side. From the day that I met you, I knew that I would love you ‘till the day I die.” Never Forget You - The Chainsmokers

- “I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to.” War of Hearts - Ruelle

- “Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty.” Heather - Conan Gray

- “All I know, all I know, loving you is a losing game.” Arcade - Duncan Lawrence

- “So, before you go, was there something I could’ve said to make it all stop hurtin’, it kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless.” Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

- “Tell me where the good men go before I wash away, walk me down the old brick road so I can die where I met you. Hold me like we’re going home, turn your tears to rain. Bury me beautiful, heaven knows how I loved you.” Heaven Knows - Five for Fighting

- “So I drown it out, like I always do, dancing through our house with the ghost of you.” Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

- “I want you to know that it doesn’t matter where we take this road, someone’s gotta go.” Already Gone - Sleeping at Last

- “I’d give anything to hear, to see you one more time.” Saturn - Sleeping at Last

- “You’re gone and I gotta stay high all the time to keep you off my mind. High, all the time to forget I’m missing you.” Habits - Tobe Low

- “Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard. Oh, take me back to the start.” The Scientist - Coldplay

- “I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.” Airplanes - BOB

- “If you’d ask me how I’m doing, I would say I’m doing just fine. I would lie and say that you’re not on my mind.” Not Over You - Gavin Degraw

- “I don’t know you, I don’t know me, but I know you mean everything, you can set me free.” Nothing - Faith Marie

- “If you love me let me go.” This is Gospel - Panic! At the Disco

- “Friends don’t call you in the middle of the night, couldn’t even tell you why, they just felt like saying hi. Friends don’t stand around playing with their keys, finding reasons not to leave, trying to hide the chemistry. Drive a little too slow, take the long way home, get a little too close, like we do, but friends don’t.” Friends Don’t - Maddie and Tae

- “I think about you every moment when I open my eyes. I think about you, every evening when I turn out the lights. I think about you, every moment every day of my life. You’re on my mind all the time, it’s true. I think about you you you you you.” I Think About You - Ross Lynch

- “When my world is falling apart, when there’s no light to bring in the dark, that’s when I look at you.” When I Look At You - Miley Cyrus

Reblog and add more song lyrics that remind you of Newtmas

#newtmas #newt x thomas #the maze runner #tmr #the scorch trials #the death cure #tdc #tst #newt tmr #thomas tmr #james dashner #the fever code #tfc #the crank palace

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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years

Text

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Supernatural Tags: @lyarr24

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam @thougts-and-funnies

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You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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stillebesat · 4 years

Text

Catch Me (If You Can) -part 3

December Drabbles Day 23 Sanders Shorts: Remy Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman, Janus Blurb: Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick. Fic Type: Sick!Fic, Guardian!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Sickness, Fainting, Mentions of Religion Taglist in reblog.

To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2

The scraping of a chair somewhere nearby was what drew Remy out the warm embrace of unconsciousness. He stirred, eyelids fluttering as an unfamiliar voice spoke.

“I didn’t think Lo was allowed to bring his science experiments home.”

There was a soft exhale, the sound of paper rustling as a book was closed. “He was a customer, Janus. I didn’t create him, he fainted down below and I brought him up here.”

That voice.

Remy frowned, turning his head, a damp cloth slipping down to rest by his nose as he strained to hear. To remember.

How did he know that wonderful cadentic voice?

“Ha!”

Remy flinched at the unexpected laugh, eyes flashing open as he pushed himself upright, his arm trembling from the movement, the blanket covering him falling to his waist. Where? He looked around, pausing as he found a bowl of soup with steam still rising from it on the coffee table near him with a tall clear glass of what could only be water right next to it.

He grimaced, throat feeling like burning sandpaper as he swung his feet to the carpet so he could reach the glass. Still cold. How had---He shook his head, raising the glass to his dry lips. The relief to his throat was instantaneous.

Wherever he’d ended up it definitely hadn’t been to a party. That sort of hangover felt much different than this.

“Oh, he fainted alright!” The louder voice--Red...why did it make him think of Red? continued as Remy lowered the glass back to the table. “Right into your arms like a damsel in distress. It was a wonderful sight to behold, Specs.”

Specs. An ugly nickname. It wasn’t right for--for? Remy twisted, searching the empty living room as he staggered to his feet, hissing softly as his vision tunneled. Wherever he was he needed to leave. Now! Before his image was ruined--before he--

He already had.

Remy froze, memory rushing back as a long suffering sigh, like an angelic chorus sounded from what could only be the kitchen. “It didn’t happen like that, Roman.”

His Angel.

“Soo...you kidnapped him from the Cafe.” Janus stated.

His Angel...also now known as this ‘Lo’ groaned as a thunk sounded on a wooden surface. “I. Did. Not.” came the muffled retort. “He’s not a prisoner.”

“Reeeeally~?” Red--Roman? Clicked his tongue. “Didn’t the guy try to leave before you stopped him?”

Oh yes. He distinctly remembered that. Remy glanced to his wrists, before frowning down at his socked feet and the shoes neatly lined up nearby. But...if he was a prisoner--his captor--his Angel was doing a bad job of it. Leaving him untied and unsupervised and free to leave whenever.

Like now.

Scooping up his shoes, Remy tiptoed for the door, ignoring how the floor seemed to sway under his feet.

“If he tried to leave, Then pray tell me, Lo. Why is he still here?” The one called Janus demanded. “If it had been any other human you’d have called an ambulance and washed your lily white wings of them.”

Remy paused, hand on the door knob to freedom. Wings? Wait. Hadn’t---hadn’t this Lo mentioned something about--about---being his--

Guardian.

He licked his chapped lips, turning to look at the other doorway where the other three were hidden from view, blood pounding in his ears.

Angels weren’t real.

And if they were--they certainly couldn’t be working in a quaint grandma cafe! Shouldn’t they be off like---bringing messages of peace and saving the world from global warming or something?

There was a rumble, barely audible to Remy’s ears.

“Take two, Lomageddon. We didn’t hear that.” Roman said.

There was another soft thunk. “I said. He called me.”

Come again?

There was a scoff from the kitchen. “I thought you were...what is that lovely phrase? “Taking a Break? Having a little Self Care time from your Guardian responsibilities?”

“Oh you’re one to talk.” Lo hissed. “Neither of you would exactly be here either if you had followed guidelines!”

Remy let out a slow breath as he slowly placed his shoes back on the ground, cursing under his breath as curiosity got the better of him. Were--were these guys--actually claiming to be angels?

He had to see it to believe it.

On silent feet, he crept forward to the entryway of what he guessed was the kitchen.

“He’s--well he’s gotta point Deecepticon.” Roman remarked, his tone slightly more subdued.

Janus scoffed and Remy could practically feel this unknown third guy rolling his eyes. “Please. Neither one of us are exactly Class A examples like Lo here is for following the rules. And you, Roman,” He crooned the name. “Have been worth every single broken rule in the book.”

Remy peered around the corner in time to see Red blush full scarlet as the mysterious third guy, Janus, reached out his gloved hands holding tight to Roman’s as a slight glowing haze like a mirage in the desert shimmered around them.

He squinted, struggling to focus on what he was seeing. It almost--it almost looked like there were...wings. Remy rolled his shoulders in response, glancing to the third party member who had his head buried in his arms.

His Angel.

His Angel who also had that odd...shimmer….Remy’s heart skipped a beat as Lo shifted like he was gonna raise his head and abruptly pulled back out of sight, hissing under his breath as his vision blurred.

Nope nope nope.

He scrubbed at his eyes as he stumbled--darted--over to his shoes, scooping them up as he rushed to the front door. He could figure out exactly what he’d just seen and heard later when his head didn’t feel like it was stuffed full of cotton. Where he wasn’t feeling like he’d been run over by a truck. Where he--

“Remy?”

He shivered at the cadentic tone of his Angel rang in his ears, hand freezing on the door knob leading to his freedom. “Don’t.” He said, refusing to turn around, glad that for once his voice cooperated. He didn’t want a repeat of earli--yesterday--what time was it?! Regardless. He needed to get out of here.

“Oh. He is stubborn.” Janus remarked from somewhere behind. “Didn’t you say--”

“He did say.” Red--Roman chuckled. “Out for the next twelve hours, Lo, and what? It’s been maybe four?”

The hairs on the back of Remy’s neck rose. Lo had tried to keep him asleep for twelve hours?! HOW--No. No. Leave. Leave this audience that regrettably already knew he was...sick. But if he could just--He jerked at the door, growling under his breath when it refused to open. Could his Angel actually stop doors from working?! It was--

A soft sigh sounded as a hand reached around him to unlock the deadbolt.

Oh. Right. Locks exist.

“You should be resting more you know. Your fever’s hardly gone down.”

Remy flinched, grip tightening on his shoes. He knew that. He could feel how bad he felt. He just--

“But if you stay away from 32nd street, you should make it home without issue.”

Wait. “What?” How did he know that?! Remy frowned, finding himself turning to look into the shining sapphires of his Angel’s eyes before he could stop himself. “You’re actually letting me leave this time? Not gonna stop me?”

Could it really be so easy? Wasn’t he going to use his fellow cohorts hovering by the kitchen to subdue him again? Make him fall asleep?

Lo raised an eyebrow, holding out Remy’s sunglasses in his other hand. “Do you want me to, Remy?”

“No.” He snatched his sunglasses back, relaxing a little as he slipped them over his eyes. “Didn’t the first time either, Sugarbee, and that turned out with me laid out like one of your French girls on your couch.”

Roman snorted, crossing his arms. “Hardly, he did keep your clothes on.”

Not. The. Point.

“Ignore him.” His Angel said, shooting the other two a look.

Gladly. He pulled open the door, quickly slipping out into the hallway. “Avoid 32nd street you say--” He cut off, and whirled back to Lo, ignoring how his vision swam a bit too much after that little maneuver, favoring jabbing a finger in the general direction of his Angel instead. “How do you know where I live!” He demanded. “Or even my name?!” He didn’t remember telling his angel who he was, but that was the second time he’d used it since he’d woken up.

Another scoff sounded from inside the apartment.

Lo blinked, raising an eyebrow as he held out a steaming to-go cup of soup out to Remy.

When had he grabbed that? His Angel had only been holding his sunglasses--of course. It was probably some sort of divine angely magic.

Or it was like the deadbolt and he just hadn’t noticed--GAH. This was too confusing on a feverish mind.

Not that he was feverish--or sick. No, he was fine.

Until he found out what the Socials were saying about him freaking fainting in public when he got home that is. But he could pretend for now.

“I know from your driver’s license.” Lo said, with a shrug. “I checked it when you...fainted.”

Oh that made sense--wait. Remy scoffed, ignoring the burning in his throat and the grumbling of his stomach as he took another step back away from his Angel and the soup in his hand. “Does that excuse actually work?”

The smile was faint, barely a twitch of his lips. “Most of the time.”

“Seriously? In a college town? Where practically everyone is from out of state?”

Lo chuckled, a low sound that sent Remy’s heart racing as his Angel leaned against the door frame in an obvious attempt to appear casual even though Remy could see the tension in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. “Most people don’t ask how I know, actually.”

Oh. Well all things considered, the license excuse was believable. Just not for him.

“And you’re letting me leave now. Just like that?” He said, taking a couple more steps backwards down the hallway to prove his point.

A muscle in his Angel’s jaw twitched.

Remy smirked, hoping Lo couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding. “You don’t want me to leave.”

“You are visibly unwell, Remy.” He said softly, crossing his arms. “I would prefer you stay here until you are better.” His bright eyes seemed to stare straight through his sunglasses and right down into the depths of Remy’s soul like he actually cared about his well being.

Ha.

Nope. No more Jedi mind tricks here. Remy shook his head, forcing himself to turn fully away, ignoring the prickling sensation of his Angel’s eyes on his back. “Thanks. But No.” He called over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the nearest exit before his Angel could say one word more to convince him otherwise.

He’d be fine.

To Be Continued.��

#Catch Me (If You Can)#December Drabbles #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Remy #Logan #Roman #Janus #Sleep #Logic #Creativity #Deceit #Guardian!Logan #Sick!Fic #Sick!Remy #Guardian!AU #December Day 23 #sickness tw #mentions of captivity tw

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huicitawrites · 4 years

Note

Hi there! I saw that you had requests open so if it's possible, can you do #14, #17, #32 and #33 with Jotaro and neutral reader, please ? Like all in one ? It can be from part 4 or 3. I just feel like those numbers would be on brand for him and the last one you wrote for him was wonderfully written. You don't gotta do all numbers though if it's too much. I don't wanna stress you out. Thank you and by the way, you are an amazing writer !💓💓 ❤️❤️❤️

“Dulce Periculum”

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo x Reader

prompts: #14, #17, #31, #32

warning: possesive behaviour, toxic relationships, dark fluff.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was late -or very early-, about two o’clock in the morning and not a soul could be heard for all the neighbours had gone to sleep by now, even the lousy dog. In spite of such a favourable atmosphere, the dark haired man had yet to sleep.

In fact, he found himself quite awake- and fortunate as well.

So, goddamn fucking fortunate.

Before the broad man laid the shorter figure in snoring silence. Their face held no signs of stress or worry, just joyful slumber. Plump, tempting and inviting, lips were slightly parted . {H/c} hair sprawled over the feather-pillows in a hairy mess, however the Kujo found it to be part of their enchanting beauty.

Smooth, perfect [skin colour] skin-clad shoulders rose and fell at pair with their slow breathing. They were curled in a little ball, so tiny and fragile.

Practically defenseless.

It was his golden ticket and Jotaro did not think twice when he dived into the crook of their neck. With a deep whiff; he inhaled the sweet, familiar scent and sighed -his warm breath tickling a lil’ bit- as he too; relaxed into the comfort of the mattress and their cozy warmth.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.” The confession sent shivers up the unconscious figure’s spine, as if their clueless body had some sort of instinct left to it. As if their erected hairs at their nape were aware of the glinting, ocean eyes staring down at them. Like their gut could read his desire of leaving purple-dark imprints on the skin of neck their and above the breast.

The intent, though, was more than mere sexual desire. It pierced through such shallow, simplistic yet primitive intentions.

It was possession at its finest.

He wanted to have them all to himself, to leave his marks, embrace them and hold them close , and keep them thereforever.

Jotaro Kujo craved a life with them, he felt safe in their arms.

He felt at bliss, far away from the wretched memories of Egypt and from the blazing ache of trauma. The dark haired man wished for a life in which he’d share it with them. In which he’d get to see all their smiles and hear all their laughs, where he’d get to kiss away their tears and console their fears. Where he’d be greeted by them -and maybe a little girl or little boy-, where they’d cuddle with him after a long day of work and where he’d get to bury himself in their arms all mornings and nights.

His usual harsh exterior now seemed to have never, ever existed. There was no trace of it as his lips caressed their collarbone. Ocean eyes flashed the most intimate desire, his aura remaining gentle yet passionate.

But Jotaro also feared.

Yes, the iron-armor clad Kujo trembled at the thought of them leaving.

Of walking away from his life as his friends had, of in the blink of an eye; turning around only to gaze them from far away. Their figure getting further away from his reaching hand, as it turns blurrier to the sight and the echo of their footsteps fades away.

His eyes snapped open and a muscled arm came snaked around their waist, pulling them closer in a tug; flush against his naked chest. With wide eyes, he observed their facial expression. Shut eyes twitching slightly, nose wrinkled a lil bit over and scrunched eyebrows.

Their sleeping body flipped to face the other side, and then proceeded to snuggle their back against their lover’s chest; seeking to be spooned. They hummed, unconsciously happy, and Jotaro huffed.

“Do you really think you can get away from me?,” he leaned over with his sharp jaw and placed his chin atop their head, “ after all… You know you’re mine, don’t you?”. Having said that, no; stated it, confirmed it. The Kujo closed his eyes and dozed off, content with them in his arms.

They remained in peaceful sleep, blissfully unaware and painfully naive.

~.~

You always woke up before your boyfriend. It was pleasant though, that way you could look at his relaxed face, which was a little unusual for he always held a frown over his face and tight shoulders. Thus you’d appreciate instances such as this.

Silently, you placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

There was no answer, and you smiled lovingly knowing he was resting well.

Checking at the small clock on your bedside, you decided to leave the comfort of your sheets and head down for breakfast. Moreover, you could cook a sweet surprise for your boyfriend.

Using enough strength to lift up the heavy weight off your body - but not disrupting it-, you crawled out of bed as stealthy as possible. However, just before you took off the covering sheets, an arm - the one you had put lots off effoft to lift off- pulled you inside.

Now, you laid face to face once more with your cherished boyfriend.

“ ‘Morning Joot”, you greeted with a smile.

He kept on looking at you, perhaps for a couple of minutes before he leaned in to reclaim his early-morning kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue danced in your mouth, roaming the space he had , oh, so deliciously devoured time and time again. Already accustomed to the daily routine, you followed him along the kiss.

It was not rough, but passionate, slow and deep. Both of you slowed down until your laid still upon each other, and only then; the kiss was broken off.

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.” his gruff yet soft spoken whisper tickled your neck, erupting a few squeaky giggles from you. You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, right over his fast-pacing entranced heart. [E/c] hues locked with those deep, ocean eyes you cherished so much, and you smirked. The handsome dark haired teen returned the gesture, and then flipped you both to your surprise.

Your laughs merged into one, enjoying the lovely ans unique moment. Once you regained composure -if laying with your messy hair and wrinkled pijamas over your boyfriend could be considered so-, you lowered your head towards his forehead.

“I know,” your hand took hold of his hat at the bedside and you placed it atop your own head, earning a blushing JoJo, before planting a swift peck on his forehead - “all yours.”

You sealed your fate.

These were the moments you held dear, treasuring them in your memory and heart. Sunday mornings like these, cuddling after a good ol’ sleeping and being all cozy n’ warm together as the golden rays of sunrise bathed you both . It was simple, nothing more than playing with his short black locks and kissing each other’s sweet lips.

You wished it would always be simplistic as this, but his desire for you whole was far more complex and strong than your will.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Thank you anon, you’re amazing too! I hope you all like this one as well, it didn’t stress me out to write these prompts because I too thought it’s suit him well, so no worries :) .

Ps: the title translates to “Danger is sweet” from latin. Also, please reblog if you liked it🥰

#yandere #writing #writing blog #yandere x reader #self insert #yandere blog #yandere x you #yandere jotaro #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere jotaro x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo jjba #jotaro kujo x reader #yandere jjba #jjba #jojo #yandere jojo #prompts #yandere prompts

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

pragma - part twenty

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: some angst, SMUT - oral (m receiving) and armchair sex (? lol)

A/N: TWENTY. I can hardly believe it! Thank you all for sticking with this story for so long and loving it and Frankie with me. I am so grateful to each and every one of you who comments, reblogs, sends messages...everything. Thank you!

Summary: Frankie makes a decision that leaves you shaken but it’s all for the best.

pragma masterlist

The camping trip had been something both you and Frankie needed and now that it was over, you were kind of sad. You stared out the window of his truck and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab your hand.

“I’m just gonna miss the peacefulness we had for those few days,” you said, lacing your fingers with his.

“We can do it again whenever you like.”

“We should make it a monthly thing. One weekend out of every month we get away from it all.” You smiled over at him although his eyes were on the road. The side of his mouth curled up at your words.

“That’s a good idea.”

“You know what else I think we should do?” you asked, rubbing his hand with your thumb. “I think we should see about getting your pilot’s license back.”

“I don’t know…” His grip on your hand loosened but you continued.

“I’m sure there’s a way. We’ll do some research when we get home.” You brought his hand to your lips and kissed it.

“That’s nice and all but I need a steady job before anything else.” He took his hand away from you and put it back on the steering wheel. You looked at him and noticed his dimple was gone—he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Okay…we can do that.”

“Not we. It’s something I have to do.”

“I want to help you, Frankie. Will you let me help you?” you asked.

“What if I’m a lost cause? Just some pathetic druggie who can’t get his shit together…mooching off his girl.” He gripped the steering wheel so tight you could hear it creaking under his pressure.

“Stop talking like that, Frankie. I won’t have it,” you snapped and he looked at you for a moment before turning back to the road. He stayed silent the rest of the way home even getting out the truck without a word. You walked up to the door and unlocked it as he carried the packs. He dropped them unceremoniously by the front door and began pacing. “Frankie…”

“I think I need to move back home,” he blurted and you felt the world come crashing down around you.

“What? Why?” You couldn’t believe that after such a lovely time together he would want that.

“Talking about work and everything just got me thinking. I’m getting too comfortable staying here with you.”

“But I thought we were gonna work together to get you a job. I just wanna-"

“Help…I know, but you got your own shit to deal with. I’m not piling my mess on top of that. I wanna be better for you. I want to actually deserve you.”

“But you do. Don’t you know that?” You hated yourself for bringing this up at all.

“I gotta figure things out on my own,” he sighed.

“I just got you back.” Your voice was small and sad. “We just had a beautiful weekend together and now you want to leave?”

He walked up to you, grabbing your arms gently. “You’re not losing me, okay?”

“But Frankie…I don’t wanna wake up and not see you there. Not again…”

“We’ll still see each other and talk every day because I don’t think I can go a day without hearing your voice, but I have to do this.” He cupped your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“Don’t do this. Please,” you begged. “I…I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anything in the world.” He took his hands from your face and turned away. You hugged him from behind, pressing your cheek to his back.

“My Frankie,” you cried. “You’ve come such a long way.”

“I still have a long way to go.”

“And I want to help you,” you said quietly.

“Stop spoiling me,” he said. You thought you heard a hint of a smile in his voice.

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled.

Frankie turned in your arms so he could wrap his around you. “That’s the problem, babe.”

“So…you’re leaving because of me? It’s my fault?”

“No…no…it’s just I don’t want to be one of those men that gets too comfortable with his girl doing everything for him.” You opened your mouth to speak but Frankie continued. “I’m not gonna be staying here but that doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less.” He hesitated for a moment. “Will it make you fall out of love with me?”

“I could never fall out of love with you, Frankie. I just…I got so used to you being here. I don’t know how to…be without you.”

“Looks like you got a little spoiled too, huh?” He chuckled.

“I really sound like a brat, don’t I?” You pulled on the bill of his cap, forcing him to lower his head to bring his lips closer to yours. “Will you still come visit?”

“Of course. We can still, you know, have sleepovers.” He tried to kiss you but you pulled away.

“Sleepovers? Do I get to paint your nails? Do your hair?” you teased.

“Oh, very funny. You know what I mean.” He tickled your sides.

You giggled but went back to pouting quickly. “I’m gonna hate not waking up next to you every morning. My bed won’t smell like you anymore. And what about our random late-night talks when we both can’t sleep?”

“How about this: you call me whenever you need to. I’ll always answer.” He noticed you were still pouting. “It’s not the same, I know.”

You just held onto him for a while trying your best not to cry. He wasn’t leaving you, he was just leaving your house. And you understood his reasoning but that didn’t mean you had to like it. He tucked his hand under your chin and made you look at him. In his eyes you saw determination and a strength that hadn’t always been there. When you two were younger, he was always so unsure, always just doing what everyone else told him to, but now he made his own choices and decisions and you had no right to take that away from him. You couldn’t make him doubt his decision just because you would be lonely.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said quietly.

“What?” He looked as though he had never heard those words before.

“I’m proud of you, Francisco. I'm proud of who you’ve become. You’ve come a long way.”

“Dammit, don’t make me cry,” he said, his eyes already tearing up. He tried laughing it off, but he buried his face against your shoulder and sniffled. “Most of the time I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, to be honest. I spent most of my life so…lost.”

“But you’re not anymore.”

“Thanks to you.” He lifted his head and smiled at you, sheepishly wiping his tears away.

“No. I don’t deserve any credit for it.” You shook your head but he made you look at him.

“I’m serious. I am who I am because of you. You make me want to be a better man and I will be. I want you to stay with me this time.” His voice cracked and you ‘aww'd' quietly while touching his face.

“I’ll always be here for my Frankie.”

“And I’ll always be yours. You’ve had my heart since the day I laid eyes on you anyway.” He bumped your nose with his and smiled before kissing you.

“God, I’m gonna miss kissing you whenever I want.”

“Well, we better do all the kissing we can now, right?”

Frankie had only been gone for a week and you were already missing Frankie’s presence. He called you almost every morning like he said he would and sometimes even video called you so he could blow you kisses. But it wasn’t the same. You missed knowing he was in the same space as you. You missed his breakfast in the morning. You just missed him. The first night he was gone, you had opened the refrigerator and burst into tears because a few of his beers were still there.

Your phone rang and you picked it up right away. Frankie was video calling you.

“Hey...wait...are you still in bed?” he asked.

“Yup.” You smiled and he chuckled.

“Hey, check this out.” He moved the camera from his face and showed you his outfit. He was in a white button up and tie and slacks.

“Well, well, well. Look at you, sexy.” You wolf whistled and his face was slightly red by the time he put the camera was back on him. “What’s going on?”

He smiled proudly. “Got an interview.”

“What?! That’s great! Where?”

“Don’t laugh but...a doggy daycare.” He made a face.

“Okay consider me jealous. You’re so lucky.”

“Calm down. I don’t have the job yet.” He looked nervous, pulling on his tie uncomfortably.

“You got this, Francisco. Call me and let me know how it goes, okay?”

“You bet, baby. Gimme a kiss.” He puckered his lips and brought them close to the phone.

“Muah!” You kissed your phone and he kissed his. “Buena suerte. I love you.”

“Ah, you’re learning. I love you, too. Talk to you soon.” He hung up and you rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom to shower. You were going to surprise him.

You waited a few hours before leaving your house and going to the liquor store to find his favorite beer to surprise him with. You also picked up a pizza along the way to celebrate. Frankie would probably tell you not to get too excited about it, but this was the best excuse you had to see him.

As you pulled up to his house, you noticed his truck in front of the garage, so you parked on the street and got out. Just as you did, Frankie called.

“Hey babe,” he said happily.

“Hey, how’d it go?” You struggled with balancing the pizza and beer. “Whoa!”

“What happened? You okay?”

“Yeah. Tell me how it went.”

“It went great actually. I got the job!” The excitement in his voice brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh my...Frankie!” you yelled then bit your lips, remembering that you were right in front of his house. You walked up to the door and knocked.

“Who the hell...” Frankie said. The door opened and you did a little dance.

“Congratulations!”

He stood there in shock for a moment, staring at you. “You’re here.”

“I am…now help me, please.” You handed him the pizza and walked into the house. “Oh, you cleaned up.”

“I did.” He put the pizza down on the table and once you put the beer away, you ran to him and held him for the first time in a week. “Oh, that feels so nice.”

“Gimme a kiss,” you said, parroting his words from the phone call earlier. He kissed you softly as if he was nervous. “Francisco Morales…kiss me like you mean it.”

And he did. He wrapped his arms around you and held you against his body tightly before kissing you so powerfully it took your breath away. You were floating. Flying. Soaring. You’re not sure if it was his thrill from getting the job today or from just seeing you, but it was the most passionate kiss in the world. He only pulled away to smile at you then went back to it, walking and pulling you along with him until he fell into his armchair. The skirt you wore slid up your thighs as you made yourself comfortable on his lap. His hands found their way up your thighs and under your skirt, groping and squeezing at the supple flesh.

“I missed you,” he sighed against your lips.

“I can tell,” you teased and he scoffed. “I missed you too, Frankie…mmm!”

He kissed you some more, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. It’s like he never wanted to stop. You cupped his face, scratching at his scruff gently. He bit your lip carefully and you did the same, making him open his eyes and look at you.

“The pizza,” you murmured.

“Fuck the pizza,” he responded.

You giggled. “I thought you’d want me to f-"

He put a finger to your lip before you could finish. “I know exactly what you’re gonna say. I walked into that one.”

“So…tell me, are you happy?” You unbuttoned his shirt as he spoke.

“I got a job and the hottest woman in the world is in my lap undressing me. Happy is an understatement, mi amor.”

“Sit up,” you commanded and he did as he was told so you could slide the shirt down his arms and off, tossing it behind you. He was left in his under shirt and slacks. Have his shoulders always been that nice? He sat back and smiled up at you, his lips looking softer than usual. “God, you’re sexy.”

“And employed. Don’t forget employed.”

“So fucking proud of you, baby.” You ran your fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes.

“Is this my reward?” he asked with a grin.

“Well, I really was just bringing you pizza and beer but…this is better.” You laughed as he kissed you. “Much better.”

“Arms up,” he said. He slid your shirt up and off leaving you in your bra and skirt. “I guess this is one of those sleepovers I mentioned?”

“Want me to stay?”

“Duh.” He kissed your neck then bit down. “Do you remember the last time we…uh…did it at my house?” he asked against your skin.

“Hmm…yeah. Our first time together.”

He sat back in the chair to look at you. “I was so damn nervous. It was right before I left for the service, right?”

“Yup. We had…seen and touched each other before but we never quite went all the way…until then. I was nervous too. But you were so sweet and patient especially when I had told you that it was actually my first time.” You looked away, still a little embarrassed about it. Back then you knew Frankie had been with other women before you, but you had never felt comfortable enough with anyone to go that far with until Frankie. Most people would have laughed knowing that you were in your twenties and still hadn’t had sex, but he seemed to be touched by the fact that you wanted him to be your first.

“It wasn’t my first time but it felt like my first time, if that makes sense,” he said. “My hands were shaking and sweaty. I thought you would be grossed out when I touched you.”

“I remember you making me wait out here while you ran and threw all the mess on your bed and floor into your closet.” You laughed.

“Had to make it presentable. I didn’t have candles and flowers or anything so the least I could do was make love to you in a somewhat clean room.” He shrugged then slid his hands up your thighs again.

“Is that what you did today? Throw all your stuff in a closet?” you teased.

“No ma’am, I actually cleaned. And I wasn’t even expecting you so I deserve some props for that.”

“You do.”

“Well?” He looked at you expectantly and you clapped your hands.

“Yay!” you cheered but were cut short when he grabbed you and tickled your sides, making you yelp and squirm. “Don’t you dare, Francisco.”

“I kinda like when you squirm like that on me though.” He tickled you again and you squirm away, making him look down at where you sat on him.

“You don’t need to tickle me to get me to do that.” You grabbed his hands and held them against the seat as you moved your hips on him. “See?” His eyes rolled back then closed.

“Wanna go to the bed?” He already sounded like he was trying to catch his breath.

“Why not here?” You moved against him again and he cursed under his breath.

“Here is fine. Just...” He cleared his throat as he reached down to unbutton his slacks.

“Let’s take them off.” You stood up and he pouted at the loss of your body on his. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants off. “These too?” You pointed to his boxer briefs.

“Please.” You slid them down his legs and threw them on top of his discarded pants. He took his undershirt off and watched as you stepped out of your skirt then turned away to take off your bra and panties, bending seductively to slide them down your legs. He whistled lowly. “How did I go a week without you?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” You finally turned and let him admire you. He had surely memorized every inch of your body by now, but you let him enjoy it.

“Get over here.” He gestured with his finger but you shook your head and dropped to your knees. “Oh…” he said quietly.

“I feel like I don’t do this enough,” you said, reaching for him.

“You…” he gasped as you touched him, “…you don’t have to do it at all.” His eyes closed and he sat back, swallowing hard. When he opened them again, you were snug between his legs and he had to look away. “It’s not like I expect it from you all the time.” He laughed then grunted as you began stroking. “I…I don’t…”

“I know but I don’t mind especially because I know it makes you feel so good.”

“Everything you do makes me feel good…damn…” He squeezed his eyes shut again just as you took him into your mouth. His mouth moved as though he wanted to speak but his brain had forgotten how to form words.

You smiled to yourself as you continued, loving the way his hips began to move slightly. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it, lost in pleasure as he is, and you don’t mind. He deserved it. His hands reached out to you but dropped to his thigh, balled into a fist.

You pulled off him. “It’s okay, Frankie. You can touch me.” He still hesitated but eventually you felt his hand on your head, fingers massaging your scalp. Any time he accidentally did anything that resembled pulling your hair, he apologized. You wanted to tell him he didn’t have, instead you just kept going, enjoying the sounds you pulled from him.

“Your mouth,” he started. “How?” He looked down at you, meeting your gaze. “Remind me to never ever try to go for a week without you again.” As a response, you took him into your mouth deeper, looking into his eyes the entire time. His hips arched up off the seat and his eyes rolled back again. “Okay, okay, okay.” He pulled you off him causing a very noticeable pop as he slid out of your mouth.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, wiping your mouth as neatly as you could.

“More than okay.” He pulled you up off your knees and onto his lap again. His hands rested on your lower back then drifted down to your ass which you had realized was one of his favorite things to touch.

“I knew you were an ass man,” you joked.

“A what?” He looked confused even as he rubbed your booty. You laughed then kissed him, cupping his face as you did. He rested his forehead against yours and sighed, getting lost in your eyes.

“You’re amazing,” you told him, kissing his nose then his lips again as you use a hand to guide him into you.

“I am?” The sound he makes is one of surprise and pleasure. He rested his head against your breasts, steadying himself.

“You are.” You began rocking your hips against him, riding him slowly.

“I just…wanna make you happy.” He looked up at you, eyes full of the passion that he only had for you.

“You do. Always.” The chair creaks with each swirl of your hips and you get nervous. “Frankie, how long have you had this chair?”

“Dad gave it to me when I first moved out, why?”

“I don’t want this thing giving out under us.” You smiled and he chuckled, patting the cushions of the arm rests.

“It’s sturdy enough. You don’t wanna stop, do you?” he asked, putting his hands back on your hips.

“Hell no.” You put your hands on his shoulders and ride him harder, faster, ignoring the sounds the chair made. The sounds Frankie made were much better anyway. You loved how vocal he was—moaning, groaning, cursing—you loved it all. Sometimes he whispered things to you in Spanish because he knew how much you enjoyed that.

Now one of his hands was between your legs but his eyes stayed on you, making everything feel more intense. Even when you cried out and threw your head back, he kept his eyes on you, sometimes trailing down to your breasts to watch how they moved as you rode him, but his eyes always found their way back to your face. He lived for seeing your face change with every thrust, every pleasurable shock that went through your body—the faces you made because of him.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he said quietly, breathlessly as he touched you. Your hips moved faster on him and he knew you were close. Your hands left his shoulders and moved to his knees so you could steady yourself as you leaned back and rode him with reckless abandon.

“I missed you too,” you cried.

Frankie used his free hand to help you keep your balance, placing it on the small of your back. “Hermosa,” he whispered.

“Francisco,” you whimpered, your hips moving erratically, losing rhythm as you hit your peak. Your body feels weak now but Frankie keeps you upright and moving, thrusting up into you now.

“Tell me you’re proud of me again,” he murmured, bringing your lips to his in a quick, messy kiss.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Francisco. I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He smiled before biting his lip and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You kissed him before he had to pull away so he could groan. He held you so tightly against him it took your breath away. He laid his head against your breasts again and with a few more rough thrusts, he came, grunting and whimpering. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tangled your fingers in his hair as he came down from his high, catching his breath.

Eventually, he sat back against the chair, pulling you with him. His breath fanned against your sweaty skin as he caressed your back. You held each other quietly for some time then he finally looked up at you, blinking slowly.

“Hey handsome,” you said and he hid his face again but you could feel him smile against your skin.

“Wanna have a sleepover?” he asked.

“You already asked, sweetheart. I said yes.” You made him look at you. “Of course I do.”

“Bathroom?” he mumbled as he kissed your skin.

“Yeah.” You lifted yourself off him carefully but he still hissed and clenched his jaw. “Come on.” You helped him stand and he rubbed his lower back.

“We’re not as young as we used to be, huh?” He held your hand on the way to the bathroom and you turned on the shower.

“No, but we’re just as in love.”

“Nah, I think we’re even more in love than we were back then. Our love has aged gracefully kinda like us.” He walked over to the shower as if he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing you had ever heard.

“That was beautiful, Frankie.”

“Yeah, well, so are you. Come on.” He held his hand out to you and helped you into the shower. You watched as he let the water cascade over his head then reached up to smooth it out of his face. He was truly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. “See something you like?” he asked.

“Hell yeah.”

He pulled you under the stream of water with him and held you there. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

Our love has aged gracefully kinda like us.

[twenty-one]

Tags: @cable-kenobi @saltywintersoldat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pedrosdoll @psychobillybunny @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @keeper0fthestars @mrsparknuts @thinemineours @huliabitch @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @lavenderl3mons @mrscrain-x7 @fioccodineveautunnale @gooddaykate @themilkface @tiffdawg @ms-dont-care @mus1caln0tes @awesomefandomsunited @seawhisperer @virtualxjournality @badassbaker @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lokiaddicted @forever-rogue @sloantravels @javier-djarin @jawabear @longitud-de-onda

#Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales x Reader #Francisco 'Catfish' Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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atc74 · 4 years

Text

Soul to Souls - Five

Warnings: So, soulmates, huh? Implied smut, consent is sexy

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 1573

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and new cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home.

Soul to Souls Master List

Dean was pretty sure that he had stopped breathing but didn’t realize it until Annaleigh reached up and placed her hand over his heart. “I, um, woah. That’s just, well, fantastic,” he said before he practically jumped off the couch and started pacing the room. She didn’t try to stop him, which he found oddly comforting; she simply waited as he worked through his thoughts and emotions. Dean continued pacing and running his hands through his hair, as if it would make more sense the longer he did it.

“Dean, here, drink.” He hadn’t felt her as she had moved next to him until she placed a glass in his hand. He looked down at her, then at the glass, taking a swallow and feeling the smoothness coat his throat and calm him a little. “Thanks,” he replied, and she took the glass back and set it on the table.

“Sit down, Dean, before you wear a hole in my floor. Please.” She held out her hands to him. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and took them in his own. The now familiar spark traversed his skin. It was almost minute, but there. He glanced down at her hands in his, soft and delicate to the touch, even though he had experienced how strong and capable they were. He lowered himself to the couch, next to her, their legs brushing up against one another.

All the thoughts that had been running through his mind started flowing nonsensically from his mouth. “How could He...? When did...? Is that why...? I guess it makes sense. I remember this case a while back, when we had to locate a rogue cupid, and he told us the story of our parents. How they were destined to meet and be together, but it wasn’t really about them being together, it was more about Sam and me being born, bringing together the two families; the brains and the brawn, supposedly. It was all part of the bigger picture.” He turned to Annaleigh and saw her looking up at him with those big, beautiful, blue eyes. Damn, those eyes cast a spell on him every time he looked at her. Every thought in his head vanished. All he could see were those orbs, shining brightly, like the stars they had gazed upon before dinner.

He flicked his attention down to her lips, so full and tinged red from the wine, and he imagined they tasted like cherries. Dean leaned in, his eyes darting from her lips to her eyes and back again, silently asking for her permission. She closed the gap and gently pressed her lips to his.

Annaleigh took the lead and slowly glided her tongue over his lower lip, encouraging him to open his mouth to her, and he did, without doubt. Their tongues moved flawlessly together, like a well practiced dance. She softly trailed her hand over his arm, up to his shoulder, coming to rest on the back of his neck. Her fingers played with his closely cropped hair at the nape.

A content sigh left her lips as Dean pulled her closer, needing to feel the electricity coursing through his body as it pressed up against hers. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss and her hold on him. He tightened one arm around her waist, the other cupping the side of her face, wanting to feel every inch of her silky smooth skin.

Annaleigh pulled away, and Dean swore he saw stars. He pressed his forehead to hers, their chests heaving with the need for fresh oxygen. “Red, I gotta be honest with you, I don’t know if I buy into this whole soulmate business. I don’t doubt you, not in the least, but from where I’m sittin’, God doesn’t give a damn about us. What I do know is I can’t ignore whatever it is, pulling me closer to you.”

“Let’s not worry about what He may or may not have planned. How about we just live in the moment?” she whispered, peering up at him through thick lashes.

“Yeah, that I think we can do,” Dean agreed, kissing her lips softly.

With him consuming her every thought for the last three days, she stood up and took his hand in hers, boldly leading him up the stairs. Dean trailed behind her like a puppy, following her every move. Once inside her bedroom, Dean couldn't wait any longer to have his hands on her again. He took her face in both hands and crashed his lips to hers, craving that now familiar spark.

The desire to feel his skin on hers spurred her on, and she didn’t waste any time ridding him of his shirt and tie. She pulled Dean towards the bed and set to work undoing his belt and pushing the suit pants down his legs. Reaching for the waistband of his boxer briefs, she looked up wide eyed at him, when his hands took hers. He gently pulled her to her feet.

“Are you sure about this, Red? We don’t have to rush this. You tell me to stop and I stop. No questions, no regrets,” Dean paused, waiting for her consent. He knew what he wanted, but he needed her to say it, too.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Dean. I want this, I want you,” she whispered.

Dean ghosted his hands down her sides until he found the hem of her sweater and slowly slipped it over her head. His breath hitched in his throat as he took her in. Her skin was smooth and creamy, laced with freckles, almost matching his own. He reached out for her, and she melted into his embrace as he wrapped one hand in her hair and the other pressed to the small of her back. She pulled away reluctantly to peel the jeans from her skin, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and panties that were the same shade of blue as her eyes. Her beauty took his breath away.

Dean grabbed her by the hips and pushed her down to the bed gently. On all fours, he crawled over her until they were pressed together. “Last chance to back out, Red. I’m afraid I won’t be able to quit you.” His eyes darkened with passion, searching hers. Her hand rested on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, kissing her palm.

“I’m no quitter, Winchester,” she smirked. It was all the permission he needed before he kissed her again, this time with more heat than before, pouring everything he had into it. He wanted to do this right, for her, for them.

They moved together slowly, savoring every moment. Dean sat back on his heels and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and inched them down her legs as she reached around and unhooked her bra, letting the straps slip off her shoulders as she held the flimsy fabric to her chest, taking a breath to let the moment sink in. Before her was the man she had grown to know and love from her dreams. Now he was here and moments from becoming hers. He was no longer a figment, a vision, he was real and warm, and solid under her touch. A tidal wave of emotion washed over her.

“Are you okay? Do you want to stop? We’re moving too fast,” Dean whispered, pulling away.

“No, that’s not it,” Annaleigh sniffed. “I’ve imagined this moment ever since God revealed his plan to me. I knew it would happen, but I was ill prepared for the feelings rushing through me. I’m good, Dean, I promise. I don’t want us to slow down.” She pulled the silky material from her chest, throwing it to the side. Watching wide eyed as he removed his boxers, she gasped when she saw all of him. Lifting one finger, she beckoned him to her.

She reached out and ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, slowly tracing the tattoo inked there. Dean wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting her scent wash over him. Their passion lasted into the wee hours of the morning, Dean and Annaleigh becoming one, filling her room with moans and whispers of each other's names, like a prayer. The spark they had both felt ignited a fire that engulfed them, like the thunderstorm rolling in over the mountains.

As the sun peeked through the curtains, Dean propped himself up on one elbow watching her sleep. She snored softly, a content smile on her face. His rough fingertips traced mindless patterns into the satiny skin of Annaleigh’s back, placing random kisses over the freckles and tattoos he found there, taking time to discover her all over again in the morning light. Dean shifted the sheet aside, finding a small protection tattoo, just like his, on her left hip. He breathed a sigh of relief; knowing that she had it provided some security and peace of mind.

Annaleigh stirred, yawning widely. “Good Morning, Dean.”

“G’Morning, Red. Sleep well?” He pulled her into his side and kissed her passionately. She pulled away, nodding in sleepy agreement.

“So,” Dean started, looking into her bright blue eyes, “soulmates, huh?”

“Says God himself. So what do we do now?” She giggled in reply.

“Anything we want. Let’s start with breakfast and take it from there.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @spnbaby-67 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67

#dean x annaleigh #dean winchester #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean x ofc #dean winchester soulmate

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snappedsky · 4 years

Text

Fanatics 81.1

An old, dangerous enemy starts resurfacing.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Reawakening Part 1

The morning bell rings and everyone takes their seats. Miss Sweeties has her usual bright smile as she addresses the class.

“Good morning, everyone,” she chimes, “let’s give a great big ‘welcome back’ to Squee who has finally returned to class! It’s good to have you back, Squee.” He forces an awkward smile and nods appreciatively while the rest of the class replies apathetically.

After morning announcements are read, everyone heads to their first class. Squee clutches his books to his chest and keeps his head down as they go through the hall.

“You okay?” Pepito asks.

“Yeah,” he replies, “just…I didn’t think coming back to Skool would take some getting used to.”

“Well, you were gone three weeks,” Dib points out, “although one of those weeks was Spring Break, so technically two weeks.”

“It felt longer,” Squee mutters.

They arrive to their first class and take their seat as Mr. Stutters starts the lesson. Squee tries to focus, but he finds his mind wandering. He can feel a prickling in the back of his neck, like something’s nearby. Something bad. He tries to ignore it, knowing the Night Terrors are keeping watch. But throughout the hour it steadily gets worse.

Panic starts to rise in his gut. Something’s watching him. He can feel it. Something’s coming. Something familiar. Something dark. It’s closing in around him. It’s gonna get him! Squee cries out and falls out of his desk, covering his face. He looks around but sees only the classroom and the stunned faces of his classmates.

“Squee,” Mr. Stutters says in surprise. “A-are you okay?”

Squee stands up, clutching his arms. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. May I go to the nurse’s office?”

“Alright,” he nods.

“Could Pepito escort me?”

“Um well,” Mr. Stutters hesitates but isn’t even given a chance to answer before Pepito stands up. “I suppose.”

Squee nods appreciatively and grabs his bag before he and Pepito leave. They quietly go down the hall, Pepito watching him closely. But before they even get close to the nurse’s office, Squee grabs Pepito’s arm and takes him into the boys’ bathroom. He quickly makes sure all the stalls are empty before locking the door and sighing heavily.

Pepito continues to watch him quietly as Squee drops his bag on the counter and looks at himself in the mirror.

“Ugh, look at me,” he groans, running his fingers along the dark shadows under his eyes. “I look like an exhumed corpse.”

“No you don’t,” Pepito argues, “just a regular corpse.”

Squee chuckles and sits on the counter, resting against the wall. He warily eyes his bag for a second before rubbing his tired eyes.

“Nny was right,” he sighs, “I’m not ready to be back to Skool. I just thought I could force myself.”

“So leave,” Pepito suggests as he sits next to him. “Hell, drop out. Who cares.”

“I can’t drop out,” he argues, “but maybe I will go home. I can’t make it through the rest of the day.” Pepito stares at Squee, at his tired, heavy eyes and weak smile. He can tell that something is tearing him up on the inside, but he just doesn’t know what. He refuses to pry though, worried that it might push Squee away.

Squee rubs his aching head and looks at his bag. “Pepito,” he says, “could you look in my bag? You should find a stress toy.”

“Alright,” he nods. He quickly finds the toy sitting atop the notebooks and bombs and he senses something evil and dark inside it before he even grabs it.

“Where did you get this?” he asks.

“It found me,” Squee replies, “destroy it please.”

Pepito holds it in his palm and it burns to nothing in black flame. Immediately, Squee lets out a sigh of relief.

“That should give me some peace for at least a little while,” he says.

“Is that the thing causing you so much grief?” Pepito asks.

“Well…it’s part of it.”

Squee grabs his bag and stands up. “Tell Mr. Stutters I had to go home. Maybe I’ll try again next week.”

He starts to leave the bathroom when Pepito says, “it’s the Nightmare, isn’t it?”

Squee stops but doesn’t turn around. Pepito stands up and faces him.

“You can’t outlast it like this, Squee. It doesn’t work that way. It’ll keeping wearing you down and wearing you down until there’s nothing left.”

“How do you know?” Squee questions.

“My dad told me all about it when I was a kid,” he explains, “he taught me about all kinds of dark and evil things. The Nightmare is one of the darkest. Look, we can help you-.”

“No!” Squee cries, turning around. He looks at Pepito with sad, begging eyes. “Don’t tell the others. I don’t want them getting wrapped up in this. They have nothing to do with it. And neither do you.”

“But-.”

“I’ll be fine,” he insists, “I just…have to last long enough.” Pepito stares after him hopelessly as he leaves.

Squee hurries down the hall to the front door. As he nears the front desk, he sees someone standing there, talking to the receptionist.

“Oh, there he is,” she says, “Squee, your uncle is here to see you.” “Uncle…?” Squee questions. He stops as the person looks at him and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Hello, Squeekers,” Jimmy grins.

Squee immediately whips around and races in the opposite direction. Jimmy lets out a good-natured laugh and goes after him. “Come now, nephew. Now is not the time for tag.” Jimmy doesn’t have a chance of catching Squee, but he at least keeps him in his sights as they race through the Skool. Squee bursts out the backdoor onto the thankfully empty football field and stops about halfway across it. He turns back to face Jimmy just as he exits the building.

“What’s this?” he scoffs as he steps down the stairs, brandishing two knives. “You squaring up? Ready to grow a pair and face me?”

Squee doesn’t reply, just looks upwards. Jimmy stops and looks up to see Reverend Meat falling towards him.

He doesn’t even have a chance before the large man lands on him, crushing his spine against the cement stairs. Then, he picks up the limp body, rips it in half, and tosses both pieces into the air, where they’re sliced to pieces like sushi by the Doughboys.

While they make quick work of the zombie, Sickness lands on the ground next to Squee and grabs his shoulder. “You okay?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Sorry, I don’t know how he got past us,” she says.

“And I thought we were being so vigilant,” Eff says as the other Night Terrors join them, once they’ve rendered Jimmy’s body to unrecognizable chunks.

“The others can’t be far away,” D-boy points out.

“Yeah,” Reverend Meat nods and holds out his arm to Squee. “Let’s get you home quick.” Squee nods and climbs onto Reverend Meat’s back before the Night Terrors leap away.

Meanwhile, at home, Johnny paces back and forth across the living room while Devi and Tenna watch him from the couch.

“Jeez,” Devi scoffs, “you haven’t even been home two days and you’re already on edge. What’s your problem?”

“I’m not on edge,” Nny argues, “I’m always like this.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

His pacing is interrupted when the door opens and Squee and the Night Terrors walk in.

“Squee, you’re back early,” Nny says. Squee immediately leans into him, burying his face into his chest. Johnny gently rubs his head. “What happened?” “They’re here,” Reverend Meat says plainly.

He snarls. “I knew it.”

Back at the Skool, lunch has just begun. As Zim, Dib, Gaz, and Tak sit at their usual table, Pepito stands in front of them. They look at him expectantly and he takes a deep breath.

“I gotta tell you guys something.”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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p0tatonoah · 4 years

Text

Cinnamon and Carrots

For: @jostenlovesminyard for the Winter Fellow Exy Junkies fic exchange ☃️

Word count: 1.4k

Read on Ao3

As Andrew applied ice to Neil’s ankle, he felt the man shiver.

“Fuck,” Neil whimpered as goosebumps covered his skin.

Andrew swallowed hard and moved away from the couch, intensely focused on the need to light the fire.

✨Wanna read the rest of my stuff?

“Again!” Andrew heard the man say. He’d been trying to stand on his snowboard for two days now, but every time he started down the hill, he’d fall face first into the snow. As much as Andrew liked to think himself a good instructor, this Josten guy was a lost cause.

He had showed up yesterday looking ridiculous in an offensive, head to toe, orange outfit saying he didn’t need any help. He’d taken in the short hill and the steady board and waved a dismissive hand at Andrew. “Pff I got this.” He didn’t, though. Sure, he had some instincts, but the lack of technique had him overcorrecting his posture and eating buckets of snow. Andrew thought better to intervene before Carrots killed himself.

So now Andrew sighed and helped the redhead with his gear, touching him lightly on the back of the knees and lower back to correct his stance. As Neil positioned himself to brave the mountain yet again, he grinned at Andrew and said “Hundredth time is a charm,” winking before sliding downhill.

Down he went, one, two, three feet, finally able to keep his ass off the snow. Minyard heard a little whoop and watched as the dork pumped a fist into the sky and dragged himself to the lift. As he got closer, his smile widened and, before he was out of the moving cart, said “Again!” To which Andrew responded with a snort.

Carrots’ joy was short-lived, though, and he grunted as his feet got tangled moving out of the lift. The redhead fell to the snow in slow motion, ending in a heap of limbs and curses. Andrew moved closer checking for injuries, but Neil dismissed him with an “I'm fine.”

“You're limping.” The instructor remarked.

“It's nothing. 'Been falling all day, one tiny bump won’t kill me.” Neil tried to sound convincing but failed miserably when he had to put weight on his right foot.

“C’mon, I’m taking you to the nurse’s.”

“I'm goo-“ He started before hissing painfully. “Shit, fine. But no nurse, just help me get to my cabin, ok?”

When they finally reached the cabin -which, now that he’d seen it, sounded like an overstatement- he helped Neil inside and propped him on the couch near the fireplace. It only took Andrew one quick look to have a complete tour of the place. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a rickety counter and the bed was located a few steps away, near a window (was that a plastic bag on the last panel?). Turning back to Carrots, Andrew asked “You're here alone?”

Andrew guided Carrots all the torturous way to his cabin, holding him by the waist, while the other man’s arm rested around his neck. This close it was hard not to notice how blue his eyes were, or the sharp contrast between his dark lashes and the tiny snowflakes that hung from them. Josten’s lips were slightly parted and his breaths looked like short plumes of smoke in the cold air. Neil smiled, probably sensing he was being watched and Andrew tripped on a tree root. Minyard looked up at the sky in silent prayer, how much longer until the damn cabin?

“Yeah, my friend couldn’t come.”

“Probably for the best,” Andrew murmured, removing his coat and immediately regretting it. How did Neil sleep in this freezing ass cabin?

“I'll take off your boots. Gotta check that ankle.” Andrew said, but waited for confirmation before kneeling next to Neil and getting hold of his boots. He took them off gently and removed Josten’s right sock. Neil's skin felt colder compared to his warm hands and he could see goosebumps forming where his fingers had touched. As Andrew slowly massaged the ankle, he heard Neil take a deep breath.

“Hurt?”

“Just a bit,” Neil answered with a grimace.

“It's not broken.” Andrew stated, carefully placing Neil’s foot back on the couch.

“Told ya,” Neil said and removed his wet coat and gloves.

“But you need to keep off your feet for a while, or you’ll make it worse.” Andrew added and went to the kitchen to get some ice.

“Don't you dare,” Neil said in warning, eyeing the cold pack. "I still can’t feel my face from all the snow.”

“You'll live.”

As Andrew applied ice to Neil’s ankle, he felt the man shiver.

“Fuck,” Neil whimpered as goosebumps covered his skin.

Andrew swallowed thickly and moved away from the couch, focusing too hard on the need to light the fire.

“Drew…”

“Andrew,” He corrected.

“Andrew,” Neil repeated, managing to sound, at the same time, mocking and infuriatingly sweet. “Can you get me that blanket?” He asked, straining to get to the blanket on the chair next to the couch, but falling short a few inches. Minyard did not notice how that made Neil’s pullover hike up his waist. Nope. Didn’t even glance at the marked v line leading into his pants.

“Andr-“ Before Neil finished speaking, Andrew threw the blanket over to him, hitting the guy in the face. “Why, thank you.” He heard the redhead snicker as he headed to the kitchen again, hating the whole open plan situation.

He rummaged the fridge trying to find something edible and cursed at the emptiness of it. The cupboards were no better, but at least he found some cinnamon tea. No sugar. What kind of living hell was this?

Andrew just growled and focused on making tea.

"I should drag your ass back to my apartment." Andrew muttered under his breath.

"Whad'ya say?" Neil asked from the couch.

When Andrew came back with the hot mug of tea, Neil smiled and scooched over, holding the blanket up for him. Minyard hesitated, but sat down and offered Josten the mug. As Neil gripped the cup, Andrew noticed the scars on his fingers and on the back of his hands. It wasn't his business, so he didn't say anything, but the question must have shown in his eyes, because Neil said “Matt thought it would be fun to deep fry a turkey for thanksgiving.”

“Were you trying to die?” Andrew asked incredulously.

“It was just some light burns.” Neil shrugged and laughed as he remembered something. “Matt lost both his eyebrows. Dan was so pissed.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” He answered and sipped at his tea. "Ugh. This tastes like balls!" Neil complained, sticking his tongue out. Andrew hurriedly took the cup from his hands and set it on the floor. The heat at his neck and cheeks was purely due to Carrots' ungratefulness.

“Matt is…” Andrew prompted, burying himself under the blanket.

“My brother. Sort of. We grew up together. Our parents were never around so we took care of each other.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was, is.”

Andrew raised a questioning brow and Neil rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder.

“He's getting married next weekend. Everything will change.”

“Is this bad?” Andrew said, stroking Neil’s curls absentmindedly.

“I dunno,” He sighed and continued. “Do you have brothers?”

“One, a twin.”

“Cool, and where is he?”

“College. Wants to be a doctor or whatever.”

“And your parents?”

“Dad coaches snowboard athletes and mom’s a sports doctor.”

“They work here?” Neil asked. When Andrew hummed in response, he added. “Is that why you stayed in freeze-your-ass-land?”

“I like the peace and quiet.” Andrew eyed Neil pointedly, but the redhead only laughed quietly and sighed as he leaned into Andrew’s touch.

Realizing what he was doing, Minyard pulled his hand away.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, that feels good,” Neil’s eyes were soft as he stared at Andrew. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Don't look at me like that.”

“Why not?” Neil said, eyes fixed on Andrew’s lips.

Andrew’s throat was suddenly very dry.

“Can I kiss you, instructor?”

Andrew’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. Neil cocked his head, his stupid blue eyes teasing, and Andrew gave the barest of nods. Neil closed the distance between them.

The kiss was soft. Their lips touched lightly for a moment until Neil’s tongue teased Andrew's lower lip and he opened his mouth, tasting Josten’s cinnamon breath. Allowing Josten to taste him. It was a slow kiss. Like they were trying to savor the moment, commit it to memory. Neil’s hand cupped Andrew’s face and he hummed, which made Neil smile and brush kisses along Andrew’s jaw and neck. Stopping just under his ear, Neil pulled back just enough to lock his blue gaze on Andrew. Minyard had never used the word “mesmerized" in his life, but at that moment, it made sense.

“Instructor?” Neil whispered, and Andrew was very aware of every contact point between them.

“Mmm?” Was all Andrew could utter and Neil's grin was devilish.

“Again.”

Thanks for reading! 😁

Maybe let me know what you think?

Reblogs are appreciated 🥺

#Andreil #snowboarding!andrew #Twinyards are Wymack and Abby's kids #because they deserve to be happy #Neil sucks at something sporty #if Kevin knew this he would die #from laughter #soft andreil #tfc #all for the game #no exy au #aftg #winter #potato writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

More than just a game

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, oral, fingering, doxxing, stalking, and other explicit content.

This is dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a new gaming buddy but he sees you as more than that.

Note: So this is my first Jake Jensen fic and it was lots of fun so let me know what you think and hope you enjoy. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Special shout-out to @navybrat817 for helping me with this idea

After too many nights scrolling through subreddits and searching for something to keep you distracted, you decided to bite the hook. Several other redditors agreed to hop on Minecraft and it had been a while since you logged in. You missed the almost relaxing ritual of mining and building.

You joined the chat, quick to hit the little microphone emblem as you listened to the voices in your headset. You learned long ago to keep your mic muted on the servers, especially with strangers. The last time you dared to speak up as a woman in a game chat, your DMs had become so overwhelmed you deleted and started a new account on Discord and changed your ID on Steam.

You were all given your tasks as players called out coordinates and you kept to chopping up the side of a mountain. You mostly worked alone, chatting through text instead of voice chat. As you placed a crafting table in your little mine, another player, JJ-Smooth, popped up and dropped some iron for you.

He stayed close but you didn’t mind. A lot of players tried to work together the deeper they got and you were used to it. As you uncovered some lava, he dumped water before you could get burned and helped you hack up the obsidian.

He thanked you on the voice chat but you knew any courtesy in return would earn you the attention of the entire server. So you dropped some gold for him and went on your way.

“I hear a zombie,” he warned.

You turned to hack up the undead before it could get you, only to be shot by a skeleton hidden on the next level. Another appeared and you died before you could hide, the bony villain killed by your ally as you watched your possession scatter over the death screen.

“Hey, I got your stuff,” he said as you loaded back up, “I’ll find you.”

You typed quickly in the chat, ‘sorry, mic busted, give me your coordinates and I’ll come to you.’

You waited as ‘JJ-Smooth is typing…’ appeared at the bottom and finally he sent the numbers. You hopped over the blocky hills and through the forests until you found the mine again. He was just outside and handed over all your tools and ration. He headed back into the mine and you followed him. This time, you began your own path in the opposite direction.

Before you knew it, you’d lost track of time. You sat back as you realised it was only you and JJ on the server. The silence should have tipped you off earlier. He was the host and you felt super awkward for staying so long. You typed that you were logging off for the night and thanked him.

You hit the keyboard with your knuckle and yawned as you opened the screen,

“God, it’s late,” you muttered.

“Hello?” he said.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at the mic symbol and the lack of red line made you cringe. You’d hit an extra button without noticing.

“Um, hi, sorry, I just--”

“Mic busted, huh?” he asked.

“No, I--” you didn’t know what to say, “anyways, I should--”

“So, you’re a chick? Is that why you mute?”

“Uh, well, it’s just… easier, sorry, I--” even if you weren’t trying to hide from gamer dudes, you weren’t the best at conversation.

“A gamer girl, nice,” he said and you sighed, “sorry, that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you touched your bottom lip as you cupped your chin, “it’s late, I have to work tomorrow.”

“You comin’ back?” he asked, almost hopeful.

“I don’t know--”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, “promise, lips sealed.”

“I really don’t know if I can do this too much, I usually work early mornings so… yeah,” you said.

“I get it but you know you’re always welcome, hope you don’t mind if I send you an invite now and then. No pressure,” he offered.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, “okay, yeah, good night.”

You left the chat quickly and pulled off your headset. Shit.

‘I’m Jake by the way,’ a pm popped up, ‘gg.’

You typed back, ‘gg, it was fun’ and quickly logged out. You sat back and rubbed your eyes. Well, he didn’t seem like a total creep, maybe just a bit awkward but so were you. You shut down for the night and stretched out as you switched off the lamp. You were going to pay for your session in the morning.

🎮

A few nights later you got an invite to the server. You debated it but as it was Friday, you decided to make good use of the PC you’d saved up forever to build. You spawned in the middle of nowhere and built a bed before you found the half-finished settlement. You joined the chat but you must have been early as you were the only one there.

You headed back to the same mine, some work done since the first night, and laid your torches as you ventured into the depths. You jumped in your seat as a voice broke your peace.

“I don’t think anyone else is gonna join,” JJ-Smooth, or Jensen said, “you think maybe you’ll unmute?”

You stopped your mining and stared at the screen. You hovered over the mic button and re-read his name, he was the only other one there. You clicked and gave a strained smile to the screen.

“So, um, what’s the goal tonight?” you asked.

“Get some materials and go back to the settlement, keep building, oh, maybe we could try a portal, you ever gone to the nether?” he said but before you could reply he kept on, “shit, I shouldn’t assume, you seem like an experienced player.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m more a casual miner,” you went back to harvesting stone and ore.

“Ah,” he said, and it was silent for a moment, “so, you work again in the morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” you said as you focused on the game, “daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

“A daycare, huh? That sounds fun, I love kids… not in a weird way but you know, I… urgh, I have a niece,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “nah, that’s cool though, sounds more fun than my gig.”

“Oh?” you turned and kept your axe moving.

“IT. You know, some people would be like ‘hey Jensen, why do you spend all your free time staring at a screen when that’s what you do at work?’” he scoffed, “well, who says I’m not mining there too.”

You wrinkled your forehead and gave a small laugh. He was rambling and it was kinda odd. You were happy for once not to be the strange one.

“But anyway,” he said, “I found lots of diamond over here. If we get some lapis lazuli we can build an enchanting table and get some sick armour.”

“Awesome,” you pressed your fingertips to your lip as you leaned on your elbow, “should try to head back before dark…”

“Hard to tell down here. How about you mine and I’ll keep an eye out for monsters?” he offered.

“Sure,” you agreed as he came onto your screen, “that works.”

🎮

Another week went by and you ventured back into the server a few times but not for very long as late nights did not mix with young children. The next weekend, you joined again on Saturday night and like the last few times it was just you and Jensen. You wondered why no one else was joining when the subreddit was so popular but you didn’t worry about it for long.

You mostly played in silence, Jensen did most of the talking and it was never about anything more than the game or his niece’s last soccer game. That night when you left the game, he kept typing on Discord.

‘I like playing with you,’ his message blipped up.

‘Same, thx.’

‘Really, you’re awesome.’

‘Thx :) Tired, gotta sleep.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Night.’

You changed your status to offline and dragged yourself to bed. You opened your phone as you laid in the dark and went to the subreddit, you scrolled through the builds and screenshots of other people’s catastrophes.

You came to Jensen’s last invite post from that night but all the comments complained that the world code was incorrect. Hmm, you should tell him next time.

You blackened your cell and plopped it on your night table. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, the light still etched into your vision. You fell asleep quickly and woke the next day to another invite from Jensen.

‘How about some Fortnite? If you’re into it?’

‘Srry, can’t, my mom’s expecting me for lunch.’

‘2 bad, maybe later.’

‘Maybe’.

You got ready to go see your mother for your usual Sunday afternoon visit and it went by like any other. When she asked you what you’d been up to, you didn’t mention the gaming, she was never a fan of it. When you got back home, Jensen was messaging you again. You didn’t open the notification and settled in to catch up on some streaming before another week of work.

Monday hit you like a train and you were glad you hadn’t spent the night mining again. If you had, you doubted you’d even be able to open your eyes. You got to the daycare centre and welcomed in the kids. You got them set up for the morning snack then cleaned up as Sandy took them over to the reading circle.

You wiped the tables and then did some painting before you went out for some play time in the yard. As you watched several of the children on the swings, you glanced around. There was a man across the street. You squinted through the chain link as he seemed to be watching but assured yourself it was nothing as he quickly headed for the corner and disappeared.

Inside, the kids were due for quiet time, some napped and those who didn’t, stared at the ceiling and yawned. You could have joined them but knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. The end of the day came and you helped the kids pack up their paintings and their sweaters. You waited in the yard with them as the parents showed up and handed them off one by one.

You waved to Danika as she clung to her mother and your eye was once more drawn beyond the chain link. The same faded grey jacket, the same glasses, and the hat with the frayed brim. It was a better look at the man. Was he looking at you? Why on earth was he hanging around outside a daycare?

“Sandy,” you turned and lowered your voice as she neared, “see that man?”

She peeked over and shrugged, “which one? The guy crossing the street?”

You looked up again and like before, he was walking away casually as if he hadn’t just been staring through the fence. You shook your head and huffed. “Sorry, never mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she waved her fingers, “come on, let’s clean up.”

With the kids all sorted out, you went back in and tidied up the last of their mess. You and Sandy were friendly but like with any, you weren’t very talkative. You never really knew what to say but you were never unkind.

You pulled on your jacket and checked your purse for your phone and wallet. You checked the time and turned off the lights. You bid Sandy goodbye as she headed for her SUV and you took your usual route down the sidewalk towards your bus stop.

You stopped short as the man was there. You were paranoid, he must just be waiting for the same route. You approached and he turned to watch you as you sat on the bench. He smiled and the dread sank deep in your chest.

His rectangular glasses gave light to his blue eyes and a goatee trimmed his jaw. He was tall and well-built, you could tell even under his comic book tee. He was going to talk to you, another weirdo in the city.

“Hey,” his voice was chillingly familiar, “how was your day?”

You stared at him and blinked cluelessly. You looked around, it was only the two of you. You opened your mouth but you had to be wrong. He said your name and you winced.

“Jensen?” you breathed as you stood and squeezed the strap of your bag, “why? How--?”

“You weren’t answering me, I was worried,” he said, “just making sure you’re okay.”

“What the-- I don’t understand how--” He stepped closer and you backed up against the bench. “Don’t, I’ll scream.”

“Scream? Why? I’m just-- You know me, it’s me, Jensen.”

“You doxxed me?” you snapped, “what the hell?”

“No, I didn’t-- I’m just checking on you--”

“I don’t know you,” you said as your heart began to race, “so please, leave me alone,” you edged away from him, “and don’t message me again.”

You sprinted across the street and as you came up on the curb, you looked back at him. He watched you but didn’t follow. You could tell from there he wasn’t happy but the brim of his cap shadowed most of his face so you couldn’t guess if it was hurt or anger. You quickly spun away and continued down the next street to the nearest stop.

You couldn’t believe he’d just shown up like that. You couldn’t believe he would think that was okay. You couldn’t believe he’d think that much about you.

🎮

You blocked Jensen on Discord and left his world on Minecraft. That night you were shaky and nervous, afraid that he would show up at your apartment. Did he know where you lived? He must if he could figure out where you worked.

You didn’t open Steam that night. You paced your small apartment, jumping at every noise. Sleep didn’t come easily but in shallow spurts that left you even more tired. You watched over your shoulder as you walked to your stop and boarded with one eye on the door.

Work was little better as you found yourself distracted in the room full of toddlers. Sandy asked if you were okay as you kneaded play-do violently. You shook yourself out of your paranoia and assured her you were only short on sleep, not a complete lie.

You took out your phone when you stepped out for a small break. Your mom had called but you would have to get back to her when you had two hours to waste. There was another notification, that one from Discord, a friend request from JJ-NoRematch. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was and you declined it right away.

There were several others from Jensen, too. He followed your Insta, blocked; he followed your mostly empty twitter, blocked; and he even commented on your LinkedIn like a weird. You closed your phone and took a breath before you headed back into the kids, their voices rising in their excitement to go outside.

In the yard, you had another look around, expecting to see him there on the other side of the fence. You were slightly relieved when he wasn’t but still on edge. You joined a game of tag then watched several of the kids line up for the slide. You lost yourself in your job as you told yourself he must have gotten the hint, at least not to bother you irl.

Just like the day before, and every day, you left work and headed for your stop. He wasn’t there either and you sat down and phoned your mom, hanging up as the bus pulled up with a promise to call her again when you were home. At home, you felt almost normal again and checked your notifications; no more follows, no more requests, nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday passed in a similar fashion. Each saw your anxieties less than the day before. You even resolved to open Steam and start a new world for yourself. You spent hours mining and almost fell asleep in your chair. When you nearly tipped over, you decided it was time for bed.

You slept better than you had all week and woke up before noon. You wanted to log right back on but you had life to deal with; groceries, cleaning, and of course, making that call to your mother you’d delayed the night before. After all that, you felt accomplished and you decided to treat yourself to take out, a rare divulgence.

You called the local Chinese eatery and waited eagerly for your feast as you turned on a new episode of your current binge. You played on your phone until the battery was low and had enough juice to buzz up the delivery man. You dug for your wallet as you went to the door and unlocked it without looking up.

“How much--” you asked as you opened the door.

Your eyes met a familiar pair, two blue gems behind a pair of narrow glasses. Jensen wore the same cap and held the paper bag of take-out with a smile. You grabbed the door and tried to swing it shut but he was too quick as he slapped a large hand against the peeling paint.

“It’s on me,” he said, “I love spare ribs.”

“What the--” you gasped as you pushed on the door helplessly, “please go away.”

“You’re not answering me,” he said as he stepped closer and forced you back as his body brushed against yours, “you blocked me and I can’t even get a hey, Jensen, how are you?”

“I don’t want you here,” you tried to shove him and he shouldered you away easily, “get out!”

He slammed the door and you flinched. He put the bag down on the corner table and reached back to twist the lock without a look. His eyes roved around your entryway and further into your apartment. He smiled as they stilled and focused on you.

“This place is cute… like you,” he said and you heard a slight hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed and backed away from him. You spun on your heel and ran for your couch. You reached over the back to your phone and unlocked it as the battery icon flashed. You had just enough juice to make the call. You dialed as you turned back to him.

“I’m calling the police so you b-better l-leave,” you warned as your voice and hands shook, “I me--”

He was quick and before you could pull away, he swiped your cell out of your hand. He scoffed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and landed screen down on the hardwood. You bit down and pressed yourself to the couch. You stared at him and kicked yourself forward as you tried to slip past him. He caught you and wrestled you back into the front room.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly as you struggled in his grasp, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“N-no, you’re-- you-- let me go,” you stammered as he angled you around the couch. He pushed you down so you bounced on the cushion. You tried to push yourself up and he pointed his finger in your face and wagged it.

“No, you stay,” he growled and wiped his other hand on his jeans. He was nervous, even if he was angry.

“Please, why-- what do you want?” you grasped the cushion and hovered at the edge of the couch.

He sighed and sat in the chair. He took his hat off and set it on the table as he ran his fingers through his short hair.

“Good question,” he said as his jaw squared and his eyes turned to pinpoints, “better one, why did you block me?”

“Are you serious? You-- you--” you struggled to get your words out, your voice even more splintered by your fear, “you doxxed me, you came to-- to my work-- and…”

“I thought we were getting along. I thought you liked me,” he said with a frown, “I really did, you sure acted like it and-- I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“But why wouldn’t I be? I--” you shivered and crossed your arms as you withered beneath his gaze, “Jensen, this was only supposed to be online.”

He scoffed and stomped his boot on the floor. He shook his head as he looked to the ceiling and his anger bulged along his temple. He tilted his head and looked at you again.

“You know, for years, I have been a nice guy, I am a nice guy,” he pushed his shoulders to his ears as he threw his hand out, “I’m so patient and caring and you girls, you don’t even give me a second look.”

“Jensen--”

“No, really, I mean look at you, you’re no supermodel and yet it’s the same thing, ‘let’s just be friends’,” he spat, “but I watch guys all the time treat women like shit and they don’t have any trouble at all, they got them hanging off of them and I’m a creep for giving them a compliment or opening the door--”

“I don’t… know you,” you eked out, “you have to understand--”

“I don’t understand,” he stood abruptly, “I’m done trying to understand.”

He pulled his jacket open and slid it down his arms. You watched him sling it over the chair and as he turned back to you, you stood. He caught your shoulders and held you in place. His strength was plain in his grip as he squeezed then slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.

“I just wanna be nice,” he said as he leaned in. You tried to pull away but he moved a hand around the back of your head and forced your lips against his. He poked his tongue inside your mouth roughly as you tried to shove him away. Finally, he parted, his hands still firmly around your head, “wasn’t that nice?”

“Please,” you begged as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

His eyes searched your face as you stared back at him in terror. He sighed and dropped his hands back to your shoulders. He pushed you down to the sofa harshly and backed away.

“Fine, I won’t be nice,” he snarled as he took his glasses off and folded them carefully. He put them on the table beside his cap and twined his fingers together, loudly cracking his knuckles.

You blinked at him as your eyes grew glossy. You brought your legs up under you and pressed yourself to the back of the couch. You grasped the upholstery and turned as you launched yourself over to the other side. You stumbled as you landed on your feet and ran for the door.

You were yanked back as he snaked his arms around you and took you off your feet. You kicked out and screamed but it was cut off by his palm as he kept one arm around your middle. You scratched at his hand as he dragged you back to the couch. He pushed you face down onto the cushions and planted his knee in the middle of your back, slipping his hand away as he put enough weight on you to keep your voice suffocated.

“Listen, I know I look like some IT nerd but I’m a lot more than that, now don’t make me hurt you,” he played with your hair as he smiled down at you, “you try that again and I will shut you up and if someone hears you, I can take care of them too.”

You sniffed as tears pricked in your eyes and nodded frantically as it felt as if he would snap your spine. He pushed off of you and you stayed as you were, paralysed with fear. He sat and unlaced his boots one at a time. He looked up as he set them neatly beside the foot of the chair and he bent to catch your eye.

“Well?” he pointed at you and traced the line of your body in the air, “let’s go.”

You stared at him dumbly and he stood to pull his tee over his head. His torso was sculpted perfectly and his chest trimmed with hair that trailed all the way down to his pants. He stepped forward and tugged at the back of your shirt.

“You want me to do it for you, baby?” he purred, “I can help you.”

You swatted him away and sat up. You bent your legs to your chest and hugged them. “Please, I’m scared, just leave me alone--”

His hand rested on his belt and exhaled again. His fingers moved swiftly to unloop the striped belt and unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them. He stood in his boxers, tented with his impatient excitement, and gripped his hips.

“It’s okay, baby, I know you’re shy, I am too,” he neared and you winced as he grabbed your wrist. He tugged on your arm and you resisted until he bent your hand back painfully and you cried out. He tickled your jaw as he looked you in the eye and tutted, “it doesn’t have to be like this, alright?”

You went limp and let him pull your arms apart. Your legs slipped down and your feet dangled above the floor. He got to his knees and pushed between yours. He slowly rolled up the hem of your shirt and bent to kiss your stomach as he bared the flesh. You trembled as he forced your arms up and swooped the fabric over your head. It fluttered through the air and to the floor as he cupped your tits through your bright pink bra.

“Is this so bad?” he asked as he nuzzled your chest and pushed your tits up.

He glided the straps down your arm and slid your bra lower so that you popped out. He nibbled at your flesh and traced your nipples with his tongue. You sat rigid and let him explore your body, too terrified to move a muscle. He reached around you and struggled with the hooks, frustrated he snapped the clasps and the band came free.

He continued to play with your chest, his fingers crawling up and down your stomach and sides. There was a genuine curiosity to his touch and it sent a chill through you. His fingertips pressed to the top of your pants and he pulled at them as his lips travelled down to your hip.

He tugged on your pants and jerked your entire body. He tore them lower as he pushed you up and you lifted yourself to let him peel away the layer. He added them to the floor and toyed with the elastic of your panties. The little bow in the front drew his attention as he pushed your legs wider and ran his nose along the cotton.

He hummed and rubbed his fingers down your crotch, pushing the fabric to your folds as he teased you through them. You inhaled sharply at the tingle it inspired and he pressed firmer against you, flicking his fingers along your bud as he noticed how it made you squirm.

He gently pulled aside the cotton and you felt his hot breath against you. You pushed on his head before he could delve into you. “Please, don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he threw your hand away from his head and bent over you, “just relax.”

He dragged his tongue along your cunt and lingered around your clit. You clenched as it sent a thrill through you and he moved his lips against you, suckling at you bud as your breaths grew raspy. You pushed yourself against the back of the couch and dug your nails into the cushion.

He slid a finger along your cunt and circled your entrance. He rubbed up and down as he kept his tongue swirling over your clit and you swallowed back as gasp as he poked inside. He felt around and added another finger, stretching you as he carefully pushed them in and out of you in time with his mouth.

He lapped you up and you closed your eyes, desperate to resist the coil winding within you. Your legs tensed against the couch and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He sped up, the noise of his mouth and your slickness filled the silence. You let out a puff and moaned as you slapped the couch. The waves rolled over your flesh and you came into his mouth with a pathetic mewl.

He stilled his fingers as he lazily teased you with his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and sat back, the heat between your legs cooling in his absence as he licked up your juices. He watched you as he sucked his fingers and stood. Your head lolled and you edged forward on the couch. You tried to stand but he caught you and flung you back.

“We’re not done, baby,” he winked at you as he grasped the top of his boxers, “go on, lay down.”

You murmured your refusal and once more tried to get up. You slipped onto the floor and shakily crawled away as he dropped his boxers to his ankle. He grabbed you before you could get around the side and lifted you easily. He turned you and shoved you down onto your back as he lifted a leg over you.

He straddled you and again his hands roved over your body. You smacked at his fingers weakly but he easily ignored you. He kept one hand moving along your curves as he stroked himself with the other. He groaned and shook as he stroked his dick. Your eyes followed his hand and you gulped, he was thick.

He moved his knees back and pushed them up beneath your thighs as he kept a hand planted on your chest. He ripped your panties down your legs and untangled them from your feet.

He held you down as he ran his tip along your cunt, wetting himself with your coerced arousal. You groaned and grabbed the arm of the couch above you. You tried to pull away from him.

He pushed against your entrance and you looked at him in shock. You couldn’t stop him. His eyes were set between your legs as he inhaled and slowly eased into you. He gasped as he got his tip inside you and his muscles tensed. He bit his lip as he dove further in and you gasped as he filled you inch by inch.

“Shitttt,” he moaned as he reached his limit and you whined at how full you were, “oh, baby.”

His hand slid from your chest and he gripped your hips as he pulled back and thrust. You exclaimed and he did it again, slowly as he watched himself impale you over and over. You curled your fingers against the couch arm and your feet arch as you pressed your thighs around him. He lifted your pelvis high as he angled his dick even deeper.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, “oh, baby, you’re so good. Ahh-hh-hh,” his voice fizzled as your walls clenched him and you closed your eyes as you felt the heat building.

He moved his hand along your thigh and stretched it over your pelvis, pushing his thumb to your clit as he kept his pace. He purred as you writhed helplessly against him and you panted through the rising ecstasy.

“Please, please, please…” you chanted, unsure if you were begging him to stop or for more.

He moaned as he sped up and you sucked your lip under your teeth as you neared your peak. You quivered as your orgasm crashed into you and you let out a strangled cry. He snarled and planted his hands beside your head as he leaned over you, his hot breath tickled your face as he pounded into you.

Your legs bent around him as his pelvis rubbed against you and the friction drove you to another climax. You held onto the arm of the couch as he fucked your harder and harder. He kissed you and nibbled at your lip as he groaned and hooked an arm under to hold you close.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he said against your cheek and you turned your head away from, “ah, here I--”

He spasmed and slammed into you. He took several long thrusts and stilled. He grunted and drew heavy breaths as he rested his weight over you. He grabbed your head and turned your head up as he pressed his forehead to yours. You kept your eyes closed as the flames slowly dwindled.

“Was that so bad?” he stroked your cheek and trailed his finger down to poke between your lips, “No, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” he wiggled his hips and you hissed, “yeah, you want me.”

#jake jensen #dark jake jensen #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #the losers #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #one shot

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

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Casual moths - chapter nine

Find the other parts on my masterlist here.

If you liked this part and wanna help me out, please consider a reblog. Thank you.

Chapter nine - mothers and bears

The sun falls in thick golden rays through the white curtains of Callie’s bedroom, casting it in a warm glow. There’s a wave of serenity washing over them as Angel pulls her closer to his body, trying to savour the peace and quiet of a Saturday morning.

“ We should get up, Daisy is gonna come knocking any moment now. She needs her cereal.”

Angel buries his head further into her hair, getting lost in the scent of her hair. The scent of flowers. The scent of her.

“ You gotta teach your kid how to properly make some cereal. Who puts the milk first. “

“ This is something that won’t leave your head, huh?”

“ Nah. It’s wrong.”

Callie’s body shakes with silent laughter. “ You know what? You just let her watch you do it your way a few times and she’ll copy it soon enough. She adores you. “

“ Does she? “ Angel says and tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible.

“ Uh-huh. It’s always Angel this and Angel that. You’d think you’re her boyfriend. “

“ Aw, you jealous mamí? “

“ Nah “ Callie responds before turning around and cradling his face in between her hands “ I’m happy you guys have such a strong connection. She’s my life. The most important person for me. There would be no you and I if she didn’t get along with you.”

“ Yeah, I’m glad she likes me too. “

“ Mama! “ a little voice calls out from the room across the hall. It’s not something Angel ever thought he would appreciate, having a kid around but something about this little routine him and the girls have established in the last few weeks feels — right.

Travis hasn’t shown his face since the run-in at the carnicería but somehow the situation still weighs heavy on both of them. Angel hopes and prays that this is it. That Travis has learned his lesson and has pissed off. But this is Angel Reyes and his life is never that easy. Things don’t just go right for him. If they do they don’t stay that way for very long. He’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and things to nosedive.

“ Mamaaa! “ Daisy’s little voice calls out again making Callie let out a sigh before slipping on her pyjama pants and Angel’s shirt left discarded on the floor.

“ I’m gonna go feed the little monster, you go take a shower then join us. “

Her lips are smiling and so are her eyes and Angel can’t help but notice the flutter it sends through his heart. He hasn’t felt this way since fucking high school. It’s silly but it’s so so nice to feel this way again.

“ Alright. “

Callie throws him a wink before walking out into the hallway leaving him alone tangled in the sheets that still smell like her, that still hold the warmth of her skin. If heaven really is a place, he thinks, this must be it.

The kitchen smells like bacon and eggs and toast and a burst of laughter carries through the air coming from the open dining room.

Daisy is devouring a bowl of cereal, watching some cartoon playing on the tv in the living room as Callie puts some bacon on a plate.

“ Man, you girls are already throwing a party without me huh? “ Angel exclaims as he steps into the room, making the girls look at him with smiles playing on their faces.

“ Good morning, Angel “ Daisy says as she waves at him then focuses her attention back on the show and her cereal.

“ Morning princess. “ he replies then walks up beside Callie, placing soft kisses up and down her neck. “ and good morning to you too. “

Something about being with her is different than being with any other woman, Angel realises. Even the most mundane things feel remarkable, special.

“ Sit down, you goof. I made you breakfast. “

“ So you get really strong. “ Daisy chimes in, clearly having caught a small part of their conversation.

“ You don’t think I’m strong enough? “ Angel asks as he walks up beside Daisy and starts tickling her and ruffling her hair. “ You think I’m weak, huh? Huh, little monster? “

Laughter fills the air, fills the entire house. Joy lives here, in every corner and every room. It’s something Angel isn’t used to. It’s something he knew back when he was a kid but something that seemed to have gotten lost along the way. For a long time, he thought that’s what growing up is, losing a bit of happiness as you experience the world for what it is. Being here now though, he realises he was wrong. Joy and love can live everywhere, at all times. Life doesn’t have to make you bitter and angry and sad. Sometimes it just makes you stronger. Love harder. Hold on tighter to the people you love. The people that love you back. Maybe, if he tries hard enough and believes in himself, in the man he can be, maybe then he can let go of some of his demons and let love in.

That morning they sit at the dining table and have breakfast together and laugh and talk and just exist together in a world where bad things don’t happen and the sun filters through the curtains and the world has a golden tint to it.

Angel remembers then, what it felt like to have a family. One that loves unconditionally. One where secrets don’t exist and you don’t have to wonder if they’re keeping stuff from you, for your sake or theirs.

“ So, there’s a party later tonight. Do you wanna come? “ Angel asks Callie as he stuffs the last piece of bacon into his mouth. He hopes his words come of nonchalantly and casual though they are anything but. The club, that’s his family, his brothers. Up until he’s met her, it’s been the biggest part of his life, the most important thing. Recently though the priorities kinda shifted. It’s scary and confusing and he knows that the club should come first, always. But though his head knows it, his heart seems to not give a fuck. His heart is with his flower girls.

“ At the clubhouse? “

“ Mmh.”

“ Do you want me to come? “

“ Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. “

“ Then yes. I’d love to. “

“ Can I come? “ Daisy asks, eyes sparkling with hope and adventure.

“ Aw babes, “ Callie replies, “ It’s a party for adults. “

The defeated “oh” that leaves Daisy’s lips almost breaks Angel’s heart. For a moment, Angel lets his mind wander to a future where there’s another little girl sitting at the table with them. One that looks a little like him. He’s honestly not sure his heart could deal with all that love. Having his own kid was never an idea he liked to entertain. It never felt like something he wanted or needed. Now that thought doesn’t seem all that delusional.

“ You can stay with grandma though, and play with the dog. And maybe go in the pool while it’s still light out. “ Callie tries to reason though all she gets in return is a sad shrug.” But Angel isn’t there. “

Yup. That’s it. He’s officially wrapped around this little girl’s finger. Completely smitten with her and the way she breaks his heart with her words.

“ Princess, how about this. Tonight mommy and I are going to a party and you stay with your grandma and then next week I’ll take you out somewhere. You can choose. “

“ Disneyland? “

He honestly should’ve expected that one.

“ Ah that’s a bit far but how about the carnival? “

“ Yeess !! “ Daisy cheers and enthusiastically claps her little hands in excitement. “ I wanna go on all the fast rides.”

“ A little daredevil huh? “

“ I don’t know what that means. “

“It means you’re brave and you like fun. “

“ It means I’m prone to suffer a heart attack at an early age, “ Callie murmurs around the rim of her coffee mug making Angel crack a grin.

A warmth settles around his heart as he lets himself take in this moment. Bad things exist, they are very real and very scary and they wait around every corner and Angel is still waiting for the other shoe to drop but right here and right now with his girls, life is sweet. And bad things don’t exist here. Not on a perfect golden Saturday morning.

“ There’s no reason for you to be this nervous. We’re only dropping the little one off. We’ll only be there for a few minutes“

“ I’m not nervous. What are you talking about? “

Callie doesn’t answer instead, she raises her eyebrow in mock disbelieve.

Okay, maybe he is nervous. So what? This whole meet the parents thing, it’s not something he’s done a lot before. There have only been two girlfriends that brought him home to meet their parents and both of those were high school girlfriends. Those relationships didn’t hold nearly as much importance to him as this one does. What if her mom realises the kind of person he is? What if she doesn’t think he’s good enough. Which he isn’t but — it’s one thing to be aware of it, it’s a whole nother thing to have her mother know it too.

The red door to the little one story home swings open, revealing the smiling face of a woman that looks just like Callie but older. She has the same warm eyes, the same kind smile. Something about the Cordell women makes you feel — home.

“ Hello. “ she says then glances towards Daisy who wraps her arms around the older woman’s waist. “ hello my princess. I’m so excited for our girls night. “

“ Grandmaaaa. Grandma look this is Angel. “

He tries to swallow the knot that’s building in his throat at the mention of his name. Being included feels incredible but being put in the metaphorical spotlight in front of Callie’s mom feels — terrifying.

“ It’s so nice to meet you, Angel. This little one won’t shut up about you. And this one “ she says and nods towards Callie “ hasn’t stopped talking about you either. “

Angel is well aware of how crazy he is about Callie. Of the fact that she never fully leaves his mind. That whatever he does he wonders what she’s doing at that moment. To hear that she thinks about him in return, it gives him a sense of pride, of validation.

“ Nice to meet you too. Yeah, I don’t know why they want to keep me around but I ain’t complaining. They’re — the best. “

“ They are. “ Mrs. Cordell agrees and grants him another warm smile. There’s no fakeness there. It’s sincere and comforting and motherly and he realises then, how much he’s missed a presence like this in his life.

“ oookay, we gotta go. “ Callie chimes in and Angel can’t help but smile at the red tint sweeping across her cheek.

“ You kids have fun alright? Me and the little miss here are gonna make pizza and watch frozen. “

Angel can’t help but admire the love these women have for their little girl, for their family. It really puts things into perspective.

Callie leans down to place a big smooch on her daughter’s cheek and tells her to be good and behave which Daisy only replies to with a charming smile and an “I’m always good”.

Angel doesn’t doubt it. This kid can do no wrong in his eyes.

Just as they bid Mrs Cordell goodbye and are about to turn away from the door, a pair of small arms wrap around Angel’s leg. “Byeeeee” Daisy mumbles against his jeans as she presses her face against him “I’ll miss you.”

Yup, definitely wrapped around her finger. “I’ll miss you too, kid.” And it’s the god honest truth.

As the scenery of Santo Padre moves past the window, Callie notices that wherever they’re going, it’s not the direction of the clubhouse.

“ Are you kidnapping me? “

“ What? “ Angel chuckles. “ Why would I do that?”

“ I don’t know. We’re not going in the direction of the scrapyard though. I know that much.”

“ Yeah … maybe I wanna take you on a little detour. “

“ Do you now? “

“ Mmmh. “

For a moment they let a comfortable silence wash over them, to relish in the knowledge that they’re existing together in this very moment. Hearts beating in sync.

“ Hey, Angel? “

“ Yeah?”

“ Are you happy?”

And for the first time in a really really long time he doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t even hesitate as he answers.

“ Yeah, I am.”

She rests her hand on top of his and locks their fingers together. It’s tiny signs of affection like this one that he never thought he wanted but no never wants to miss ever again.

A few minutes later Angel pulls the car into a parking spot in front of a very familiar facade.

“ The shop! Oh, it looks almost finished, you guys did a great job! You told me the windows aren’t done yet. “ Callie gasps as she gets out of the car and walks towards the front door of the flower shop.

The windows are new, no cracks anywhere. There’s a decal on one window saying “Daisy’s flowers” in a swirly font surrounded by little daisies stencils.

“ Yeaaah I might’ve lied about that. Shop’s finished, babe.”

“ No way?!”

The look on her face makes all the work so worth it. He’s used to women looking at him as if they adore him but this is different. It’s usually either because they wanna fuck him or because they like the privileges that come with hanging around a patched member of the Mayans. Callie looks at him and she really sees him. All that he is and all that he can be. Callie adores him for his personality, for his actions. Callie likes Angel Reyes. Not the Mayan. Just Angel.

“ Let’s go inside. “ he says and unlocks the door, leading her inside by placing a hand on her lower back.

“ Wow, Angel! This looks even better than before, I — “ Callie stops in her tracks as her eyes fall onto the wall that, the last time she’d been here, had been smeared with a threatening message that still makes her skin crawl.

“ Do you like it? “ there a nervous edge to his words. He’s pretty sure she likes what he did to the place though he needs to hear the words. He needs the confirmation.

“ Did — did you do this? “ she points at her wall.

Where the treat had been scribbled, there’s now a beautiful mural of a bear and cub on a field of daisies underneath a starry sky. It’s incredibly detailed and colourful and — it’s perfect.

“ I did.”

“ This is incredible.”

“ It’s nothing, Callie. Honestly. I’m not much of a painter, honestly but I didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Trust me I tried finding someone but ... “

Before he even realises what’s happening, she’s got her lips locked on his, her fingers combing through his hair, her body pressed up against his. Angel Reyes has shared a lot of kisses in his life and yet not a single one can compare to her kisses. They always mean something deeper. Something real.

“ Angel Reyes?” she whispers as she pulls way.

“ huh? “

“ I’m in love with you.”

He’s heard those words so many times from so many different girls. Those words were always empty, hollow and fake. They never mattered.

They matter now though. More than anything else ever did. And for the first time in his life, he says it back.

“ I’m in love with you too. “

#angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x ofc #mayans fanfic #mayans mc fanfic #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #casualmothsstory

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doing-all-write · 5 years

Text

three things

After moving in together, Reader and Ben host their first Friendsgiving together and have to come up with three things they’re grateful for.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex and shenanigans so cute they’ll rot your teeth

This is a continuation of lighthouse !

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it today! Here’s a little something that @itsabenthing helped give me inspo to bring to life and I gotta say, I love these two idiots and their dumb relationship more than most things in my life. I hope you all love it!!

💖💖💖As always, likes, reblogs and comments are always welcome 💖💖💖

"Cranberries?"

"Regular and the nasty canned shit."

"Ignoring that hearsay...corn bread?"

Rustling was heard as her eyes scanned the list she held in her hand. Mentally ticking things off when suddenly the corner of a box of cornbread appeared in her peripheries as Ben painstakingly edged it closer into her line of sight.

"The lady wants cornbread and THEREFORE, cornbread she shall have."

Fighting a smile, she pursed her lips as Ben proudly withdrew it from her line of sight and placed it back into their grocery cart.

They had been living together for a few months now and had quickly settled into a routine. Most days she'd kick the door open, heels thumping against the closet floor as she toed them off. The smell of whatever Ben was cooking, wafted down the hall to meet her nose. Flipping through the mail she picked up on her way in, she'd pad down the hallway, humming whatever song she had been listening to in her car before coming inside.

Popping herself up on the counter she would word vomit about her day as Ben stirred, chopped and let her taste test what he was making. Making encouraging noises and occasionally interjecting at opportune times. ("No, Karen does need to calm down. I mean, it's an Instagram post, it's not the end of the world. I barely use mine and I'm doing just fine." "Yeah, but we're not all hot, blonde Hollywood stars." "You think I'm hot?" "Smoking, just like whatever is cooking in the oven." "SHIT.")

They'd end the day with whatever show they had been watching together on Netflix (Recently it was Riverdale. She loved it because she read the comics growing up. Ben loved it because it was so over the top. And he had a soft spot for Bughead.), then get ready for bed together and fall asleep in each others arms.

It was so disgustingly domestic and simple, half the time she found herself looking at Ben and asking him, "Is this it? Like, this is all we do? We hang out?"

Chuckling, he'd pull her closer, "It sure is, love."

She'd sigh contentedly, and nuzzle closer to him, happy with how quickly their lives had merged together.

Not every day was so peaceful. There was the one time she left their back window open and a bat had flown into the apartment. There was 30 minutes of chaos as Ben bellowed at her for leaving the window open and she locked herself in the bedroom threatening to divorce him if he didn't get rid of the bat NOW despite his protests that they weren't even married.

Or the day when they had sat down and hashed out which chores they hated (she: cooking, cleaning bathrooms and dusting. Ben: sweeping, doing dishes and taking out the trash. The payoff though was that whenever she took out the trash she'd gleefully tell Ben to step into the trash can as well. Only after he locked her out of their bedroom had she stopped) and would take over to prevent the other from having to do it.

Some nights she'd be out with friends, or at a late work event or need to run some errands only to come home to Ben air drumming along to a Queen album he had popped on the record player.

Other days she would be left to her own devices and would wake up in the tub, the bath bomb she had used a distant memory, with Ben standing over her, telling her how she can't fall asleep in the tub while he's gone because what if she drowns?

They were most thankful for each other when they had had long, difficult days. Trudging home from a work day full of bullshit meetings, last minute deadlines and unhelpful co-workers, with only one call to Ben to have a brief meltdown, she'd open the door to find him wearing nothing but an apron with her favorite dinner on the table.

(Frozen Chinese food from their local grocery store and "is that...White Claw...in our wine glasses?" "It sure is, love. We're real classy bitches now.")

When Ben was gone filming for long periods of time, she would FaceTime him as she cooked, or did laundry, or other normal things around the house just so he could feel like he was part of her day to day routine.

(The first time they had done that he'd remarked, "It's like a baby cam."

She scoffed, "Well, yeah. Kind of. I mean, I am baby."

"You're my baby."

"Shut the fuck up Hardy, you can't be that cute when you're that far away from me.")

When he finally would get home, disentangling himself from the Lyft, body screaming for rest after having been put through the wringer with training and long days and nights of filming, the only thing that'd keep him upright was her. She would barrel out of their apartment to meet him in the landing. He'd barely have time to drop his bags as she flung herself into his arms, peppering each others faces with kisses as he promised over and over again he would take her with him next time he left so they never had to be apart for so long.

They'd even had a couple of parties together. A low-key house-warming when Ben moved in and a Halloween party. She had dressed up as Sabrina from The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and had talked Ben into being her Harvey. Though he got to wear what he normally did, he complained the whole time. She was sympathetic but right before they opened the door to let their friends in, she had stuck devil horns on his head that he didn't have time to rip off.

(After everyone had left, he had made her wear those as he fucked her senseless. She hated to admit it but it was incredibly hot.)

The Halloween party was such a hit, their friends had talked them into hosting Friendsgving as well. Hence, the run to the grocery store where she had printed out the Excel spreadsheet clutched in her hand to help keep track of what was needed for each dish.

Ben had taken one look at the spreadsheet, took her hands in his, and in the most loving way possible, explained that this seemed like a bit much for a party and he was worried that, day of, she'd be so stressed, he'd have to talk her down from stuffing her head in the oven alongside the turkey.

Now, she felt something move across the nape of her neck, she flinched, looking around only to be met with Ben's wide eyes staring at her, feigning ignorance as he paused mid-inhale, getting ready to blow on her neck a second time.

The smile he shot her made her knees weak and she rolled her eyes, muttering about what a pain in the ass he was as she pushed the cart farther away from him.

His hands came down beside hers on the rail as his lips pressed into her hair, "Get in"

"What? Get in where?"

"Where do you think? Get in the cart, I'll push you around."

She scoffed, "Ben, we're adults. We're hosting a dinner party we bought the $5 bottles of red wine instead of the $3 ones. There is no way in hell I'm going to let you-"

"C'mon, love. The old you would have done it."

Before Ben had even said the last word, she was hauling herself up into the cart, pushing food out of the way and tucking her legs underneath herself, mumbling all the while about how unfair it was that that always worked on her.

Ben chuckled as he waited for her to get settled, once she nodded at him, he started walking down the aisles, leaning his forearms on the rail, giving her an up close view to the sinews and muscles flexing as he meandered down the aisles.

"You keep staring like that, people are gonna ask you to keep it in your pants."

"How can I? I mean, Christ Benny, your forearms are enough to make me cum right now."

He made a retching noise, "Please, for the love of god do not cum all over the potatoes. They're right in your lap, we have to feed those to people-"

A laugh came ringing out of her mouth like a bell, "These mashed potatoes seem extra creamy, whatever did you do to them?" she affected a high pitched voice and waggled her eyebrows.

"That's it, we're done. I'm leaving you in this cart." He threw up his hands, walking backwards as her eyes grew wide,

"Ben, please do not leave me here alone in this cart like a big dumb baby. Please. It was a joke."

Ben came back with a sigh, "You do look like a baby. Like when you wear your romper to work."

That comment was met with an accusing finger, "HEY. That romper is professional and stylish and also gives a whole new meaning to being naked and afraid in bathrooms."

"I understand wearing it to work but I just don't get why you would wear that out. Waiting for you to come out of the bathroom at the bar," he sighed, "felt like I was standing there for an hour."

"It was like 10 minutes tops. Grow up."

He rolled his eyes and shoved the cart away from him, quickly bringing it right back, causing her to screech and grasp the sides with white knuckles.

"Jones!"

He chuckled as he swung them around to the next aisle, "I've got you, love. Now, what do we need down this aisle?"

Her head swung side to side as she examined the goods. She pointed to a package of spices, that Ben grabbed and tried to shoot into the cart, missing by a mile. She eventually circled her arms so he could try and shoot every new food item they picked up into the makeshift basket. (She drew the line at the eggs.) As they roamed the aisles, she slowly became more and more buried until food reached up to her shoulders.

As Ben debated between getting regular sized versus mini marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole, she asked, "What are the three things you're grateful for today?"

They had started this soon after Ben had moved in. He'd wake up in the morning to find her writing in a notebook, after observing her doing this for a couple weeks, he got the courage to ask her what she was writing about. She explained that every day, she wrote down three things she was grateful for. Didn't matter how big or small it was. Just three things that she was grateful to have in her life.

He teased her mercilessly about how he had better be on that list every damn day but when they were laying in bed that night, she asked him and it became a habit. Crawling into bed together, they would exchange what three things they were most grateful for in that day.

Furrowing his brow as he shot the mini marshmallows, he threw his hands in the air when he made it in and announced, "I'm grateful I made that shot."

After checking out, in which Ben insisted that she stay in the cart while he did so, causing the cashier to give them strange looks but ultimately giving her a sticker that they usually only reserved for children, which Ben gleefully stuck to her forehead, he rolled her out to her car where she popped the trunk.

Loading the bags in, Ben clambered in to her front seat, pushing the chair all the way back.

"It's like living with a midget."

"You are BARELY 5' 10" my man, do not be speaking ill of my height right now."

Driving back it was quiet except for the soft sounds of Bruce Springsteen playing over the speakers. Reaching over, Ben grabbed the hand that had been resting on her thigh. She glanced over, smiling, as she looked at her boyfriend, felt his thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of her hand.

She whispered, "I'm grateful for us."

~~~

Friendsgiving had been a massive success. Before, the apartment had been a madhouse. The kitchen looked like the end of a Great British Bake Off episode, complete with Ben doing his best Paul Hollywood impression ("You keep that shit up Jones and I will give you food poisoning on purpose.")

But the food had turned out well (Ben silently gave her a thumbs up when 15 minutes had passed after everyone was done eating and no one had thrown up), everyone left with a plate of leftovers and promises to get together soon and now the apartment felt strangely still. The only hint that it had been filled with people was the pile of dishes in the sink.

They fell into an easy rhythm, her washing, he drying. The jazz they had queued up for dinner still playing, adding an air of domesticity to the whole affair. The pine candle she had lit after they had eaten, signaling to everyone the holiday season had truly started, sputtered as it gave off its last few whiffs then burnt out.

As she placed the last plates back into the cabinet, Ben refilled their wine glasses, leaving them on the counter as he disappeared into the bedroom.

Turning around she was met with Ben in his favorite hoodie, the collar sinking down to reveal his collarbone, meaning he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it and gray sweatpants, which she cocked an eyebrow at.

"You told me about the memes, I'm just trying to satisfy all your fantasies." he joked as he held out a second pair of sweatpants to her. She giggled as she shimmed out of her tights right there in the kitchen, pulling the sweatpants on underneath her dress. Ben swatted at her butt as she walked past him to grab a shirt from the bedroom. Once she ambled out, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she was greeted by Ben, laid out on their couch, wine glasses on the table in front of him and the largest rectangular box she had ever seen in her life.

Ben notoriously had weird taste in art and the skepticism must have shown on her face because Ben rolled his eyes, "It's not art. Don't worry. I learned my lesson when you ripped me a new one telling me that Andy Warhol isn't a real artist."

"Well you only have to make that mistake once with me." she conceded as she crept towards the box. "Is this, for me?"

Ben nodded, shifting, rubbing his hands down his thighs, then through his hair, a classic sign he was nervous.

Smiling, she knelt down in front of it, running her nails down the edges she ripped the tape off.

"Ya know, I have a pocket knife. It's easier."

"Yeah but these bad boys are like built in pocket knives."

"Okay Wolverine."

Flipping him off, she opened the top of the box. Ben watched bemusedly as she struggled to wrestle the object out. Letting her struggle for only a few seconds before he got up and grabbed on to the end of the box she pulled her gift out.

Almost dropping it she gasped, "Ben, what the hell is this? What did you do?" He laughed as he smugly took a sip of wine, "Take off that bubble wrap and find out, love."

Staring at him, she ripped open the bubble wrap. First exposing the dark mahogany frame, then the white border, then..."Oh my god. Ben. Sweetheart. Is this...?"

He just tipped his head, making a get on with it gesture as, hands trembling, she ripped off the rest of the bubble wrap.

Exposing the puzzle they had done together the day she had asked him to move in with her, matted and framed.

Bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, she felt how wet her cheeks were. She sank back on her heels, laying the frame down in front of her as she leaned over it. Ben was by her side in a second, arms around her, pressing kisses into her hair.

She couldn't believe it. Her heart felt like it was going to break from how much love she felt for Ben in that moment, "This is the best piece of art you've ever gotten."

"Nah, I'd say you were the best piece of art I've ever gotten."

"Oh god." She wailed as a fresh wave of tears came flooding out of her, making him laugh as his own eyes got watery, tightening his grip on her.

Once the tears had stopped, she lifted her head, sniffling to look at the puzzle again. She squinted her eyes, "Ben."

"Yes?"

"Is...is there a piece missing from this?"

He chuckled as he fished in his pocket for a second box, "There is. But for good reason."

Hands shaking like a leaf, she pried the box open only to reveal the piece of the puzzle she had stepped on the morning after she asked him to move in, winking up at her on a gold chain. She dropped it immediately as she threw herself into Ben's arms, tackling him to the ground.

For several moments it was just the sound of her crying, him telling her to stop crying because it was making him cry, them kissing each other and exchanging promises of love and exclamations about how amazing the other was.

After collecting herself and wiping her eyes, she held out her wrist, "Well? Put it on me you idiot."

He laughed, wiping his own eyes with his hoodie sleeve, fingers shaking as he clasped the bracelet onto her wrist.

They stared down at it until Ben kissed the palm of her hand and brought it up to his face.

Staring at each other, lost in the other's eyes, Ben said, "You know how at dinner you had everyone say three things they were grateful for?" She nodded, feeling a new batch of tears making their debut, "Obviously I said you but, love, you are always the top three things I'm most grateful for everyday. Every day I look at you and find something else about you that I'm grateful for. And I hope I get to keep doing that for however long you can stand to be around me." She giggled through her tears, nodding vigorously as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

She felt him take a steadying breath in as he squeezed her tighter into his embrace, "You're always what I'm most grateful for. And I will never stop being grateful for having you in my life. I love you so much it makes my heart ache sometimes."

Nodding furiously, voice wavery and thick from her tears, she said, "Everyday when I write my list, you always make the number one spot. No matter if you had yelled at me about letting a bat into our apartment the night before," He squeezed her tighter, laughing through his own tears, "This is just about the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, so, yeah, Jones. You made me the happiest girl alive when you agreed to be my boyfriend and every day since then. I look at you every day and wonder how in the world I got so lucky but grateful that you're in my life. You're the love of my life."

Beaming, he pulled back only to place a deep kiss on her lips. Clutching his shoulders, they held each other there for a few long seconds, finally breaking apart to breath each other in.

Breaking the silence, she asked the age old question, "Where are we going to hang this?"

"I was thinking over our bed."

"Perfect. Just perfect."

That night, as they fell asleep, they had murmured what three things they were each grateful for. It came as no surprise to either of them that their three things they were most grateful for were each other.

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shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Of Two Minds Pt.01

You’re My Girl

04/26/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 6,699

Masterpost Warnings: language, smut, oral sex (M on F), light violence

Prompt: Well I gotta get in there, right?

A/N: This is for Kari’s Sebastian Stan Challenge ( @until-theend-oftheline ). I had so much fun writing this little one-shot. I might have to make a love triangle fic at some point because I enjoyed this one too much! Hope you like it, and please excuse my smut. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Bucky has always been a bit of a brain. Admit it? Hell no! That’s Steve’s thing. Of course, now with his huge physique, even Steve has trouble coming across as the nerd he seriously is.

So, it’s a bit of a rarity for Bucky to walk around the tower with his nose in a book. He’s got a lot of catching up to do though. So many great stories being told. So many endings. So many adventures. Not to mention all his old favorites.

And really, that’s what he should be reading. Something new. Instead he’s re-reading Murder on the Orient Express. Damn, he’s a sucker for a good mystery. Intrigue, suspicion, false accusation—he freezes, blinking to clear his mind as he realizes how similar to his life those aspects of the story are.

Oh, well. After a shake of his head he wanders into the kitchen and steals a few of Sam’s cookies. He won’t miss two or three, right? And even if he does, Bucky couldn’t care less. In fact—He grabs a plate and piles the last ten cookies onto the plate and with his book reopened he heads back towards his room; a naughty grin stretched taut across his pink lips.

He rounds the corner, excited to get back to bed to read his day away when a guttural but feminine roar deafens his ears and your familiar figure jumps out from an open bedroom doorway.

“AUGH!” Bucky screams, his plate of cookies flying up into the air to land on the black granite floor with a tinkling crash as the delicate china shatters. Fractured cookies litter the floor as Bucky tries to steady his heart, book pressed against his gray t-shirt covered chest.

He growls, watching you double over as you clutch your stomach, your shoulders shaking with deep silent laughter.

His nerves fray. He hates when you do this. Why do you always have to irritate him? Why do you always pop out when he's trying so hard to avoid you?

“Are you crazy?” He demands, dropping his metal arm. He’s so stressed, clutching his book so hard that it’s starting to fold.

“You should have seen your face!” You guffaw, reaching out to hold his left shoulder to keep yourself steady. Bucky can feel the heat of your grip.

“How many times have I asked you not to do that? I could hurt you.” He grumbles.

“You say that every single time I scare you. You haven’t hurt me yet.”

Bucky hates the confidence in your voice. You’re not like everyone else. Sure, Sam is a little sardonic and hard on him but other than Sam, everyone else is careful to keep the Winter Soldier buried. They don’t test his limits. Not like you do.

“There’s a first time for everything.” He warns. And he means it. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

It feels like ages since you last heard Bucky laugh. He’s always laughing with Steve…sometimes Sam but mostly that’s just at him and not with him. Every time you come close to join in the comradery, Bucky clams up and shortly after, he leaves.

The only time you can get him to talk to you for more than just a few sentences are when you catch him by surprise or when you’re on mission together.

He avoids you in the hallways of the tower so surprising him like yesterday doesn't happen often. It’s also been forever since you’ve gone out on mission together and part of you thinks it’s on purpose.

“Steve? Tell me the truth. Did he ask you not to pair us up anymore?”

“Y/N…please don’t put me in the middle of this. Just, ask him yourself.” Steve looks nervous as he turns back towards his reports, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He’s a quick study and he’d learned typing in record time.

You hurry around him, pushing his hands and keyboard aside to sit on the edge of his desk.

“Hey.” He complains but looks from your thighs up to your face.

“Answer me.” You whine. “And I’ll leave you alone.”

Steve sighs heavily, frustrated but defeated.

“Yes. He did.”

Your heart drops. “Why?”

“I don’t know. He just said he needed a break and asked me to pair him up with anyone but you. You should talk to him. Figure out what’s going on. You two make a good team.”

Uh, yes! You know that!

“Does he hate me?” You wonder and Steve’s frustration shifts to gentle concern. He smiles softly, reaching out to place his hands behind your bent knees, hooking his hands to pull himself closer to you. You’re still in your workout clothes; tight black shorts and a navy racerback sports shirt with the Avengers ‘A’ over the right breast.

“Y/N…Bucky’s…he’s still adjusting. Just give him some time. If he’s asking not to be paired with you then it’s most likely because you make his recovery more difficult and not because he doesn’t like you.” Steve’s trying to be comforting but all he’s doing is making you worry more.

Are you fucking up Bucky's recovery? His room is right next to yours and sometimes you can hear him groaning or whimpering in his sleep. It makes your heart cold. Countless times you’ve stood at his shut door and almost gone in.

“I suck.” You sigh, pouting.

Steve laughs, and scoots even closer so that your feet rest on his upper thighs and your knees are nudged up against his pecs, his hands still hooked behind your knees.

“You don’t suck.”

“I do.”

“Y/N…” Steve sighs and drops his voice low so that as he speaks, his voice is a deep whisper. “Trust me. You don’t suck. You’re extremely adorable and very capable.”

Adorable? Is that a compliment? It’s not an insult at least. You feel your ears burn and your chest does feel lighter. If Steve can see you as adorable surely Bucky sees you as something just as positive, right?

“Hey, Stevie, you got a second? Nat said you were-Oh.” Bucky’s voice filters into Steve’s office and when he spots the two of you, he freezes in the doorway, his hands tight around a dark mission folder. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy.”

You scramble off the desk and stand up, fixing your shirt as Bucky makes to leave. “We weren’t doing anything.”

Bucky’s eyes pass right over you to focus on Steve.

“Nat says she can’t go.” He holds up the dark folder, indicating whatever mission is inside.

“And Wanda’s out with Vision also on mission.” Steve informs him.

You can almost see the panic building in Bucky’s eyes at the clear indication that the only person left to go on this mission is you.

Steve reaches over and very affectionately pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. It sits too low on your bottom and you’re at a loss as to how to respond to the affection, so you go with the flow. Your instincts tell you to follow his lead, so you do.

“You wanna go with Bucky, baby?” Steve asks, his voice wrapped sickeningly sweet around the term of endearment. Your cheeks and neck burn. What the hell is he doing?! “It’s just a quick pick up. You don’t have to use the married couple cover if you don’t want to. Just go in, get the package, and then come back so we can decode the files. You’ll be gone two days max.”

You chance a quick glance at Bucky and chew on your lip. Mostly because you’re watching the confusion flit across his face but also because you’re trying to look like you’re mulling over Steve’s question.

“Didn’t he deliberately ask to avoid going on missions with me? I’m kind of offended.”

“I think he was just afraid that you liked him.” Steve explains and it’s the definite truth which makes your chest hurt. Is that really why Bucky asked to stop going out with you? Because he had been suspecting you were interested in him? “Now that we’re together, that won’t be a problem. Right, Buck?”

Steve turns to Bucky and you place your left hand around his shoulders, your fingers gently caressing the small hairs on the nape of his neck.

“I…er…wh-when did this happen?” Bucky wonders and the stutter draws your eye to him. He stands shifting from one foot to the other.

“Me and Y/N?” Steve asks. “Just before you asked to stop going on missions with her. If I’m honest, I gotta say, I really appreciate you asking first. It would have been weird if I’d stopped sending her on missions with you just because we started dating.”

“You’re so jealous.” You tease.

“Can you blame me?” Steve asks, wrapping his arm more tightly around your waist.

You can feel it coming before it happens, and it makes you nervous. You need to make it believable. And…this is Steve! It’s not like he’s not attractive. You kind of wanna impress him with your skills too.

So, when he reaches up to slip his hand behind your neck and pull you down towards him, you relax. You pretend that this is real. That somehow you and Steve are actually dating. That what you feel for Bucky is what you feel for Steve and that nothing in this world would make you happier than to kiss him.

His lips are soft and warm. God, you wish it was Bucky.

You pour that into your kiss and your lips part involuntarily. You can feel Steve’s surprise as he gives you what you want, deepening the kiss. It’s just one quick, open-mouthed peck. A small hint of tongue. It feels like it lasts hours but it’s over in two seconds.

“No.” You whisper, as you pull back slowly, smiling down at him with as peaceful a smile as you can muster. “I can’t.”

“So, you’ll go?” Steve asks. “For me?”

“I-” You look back at the large man in the doorway, looking utterly perplexed, brow drawn together, sharp fire in his icy eyes as he stares at you and Steve. It looks like he’s trying to make one and one equal two. “Only if Bucky doesn’t mind me going? If he asked to stop going on missions with me, it must have been for a good reason.”

“Buck?” Steve asks, turning to him but pulling you down to sit on his lap as he does.

“I…I uh…” Bucky shuts his eyes hard then looks down at the folder in his hands. He holds it out for you, and you make to get up, but Steve’s arm tightens around you and instead he rolls his chair towards Bucky. “No. I don’t mind.”

“Great.” You smile, taking the offered folder. “I’ll give this a look and we can leave tomorrow morning. Yeah?”

“Whatever.” Bucky grumbles and without another word he turns and leaves, shoulders slumped, eyes still glaring with confusion.

You wait until his footsteps have faded before your body slumps forward too.

“Holy-What the hell was that, Steve?”

But Steve is smiling. “Me? What about you?! That was-holy shit, Y/N. I didn’t know you could act that well.”

“What are we doing, Steve?” You ask, pining more than ever over the man who just left now convinced you’re dating his best friend.

Steve smiles. “I’m pretty sure he likes you, Y/N. Buck’s not the same guy he used to be. I’m just—it’s just a push. If I’m right and he really likes you he won’t let it sit. The old Bucky is in there. Parts of him. If he tries anything on the mission…don’t pull away. Okay?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest from nerves and also, Steve thinks Bucky likes you!

“Doesn’t that bother you? Him trying something on someone you’re supposed to be dating?”

“I said, if he tries anything. I doubt he will. He’s not that kind of person.”

You nod. “I think you’re wrong. He doesn’t like me like that.”

Steve only smiles.

“Hey! Honey! Why do you keep walking away from me?” You shout down the small lane, the dirt of the road dusting the air.

Bucky stops several feet away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t turn to look at you but instead he simply waits for you to catch up.

You slide your arm through his, the right—nice and warm—and only when he resumes his walking do you let yourself feel the real heat of having your arm through his.

You’re on mission so you know that you shouldn’t be focusing on how you feel about him. It’s never going to happen. But for you to come here, with him, play his wife? Seriously, this is like daydream number 47 in your Bucky Daydream Catalogue.

Right after the daydream where you fall, and Bucky catches you and finally kisses you and before the one where you fall asleep with your head on his lap while watching movies.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. What to others might have looked like a soft caress, is really tight and painful and you gasp between your smiling teeth.

“Ow, jackass. That hurts.”

“Do you want to blow our cover.” He demands.

“Oh, I’m going to blow our cover? This coming from the man who keeps leaving his wife behind and hasn’t shown her one bit of affection?” You soften your smile as a little girl with shining black hair and a frayed red dress approaches you with a box of Yellow Bells—flowers shaped like trumpets with ruffled tips on the petals, yellow like the first ray of morning sun after the orange has shifted through.

Bucky reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crisp bill and hands it to her. He smiles at her, surprisingly kind, and she gives him a small bunch of the blossoms. She skips off and he straightens up then continues to lead you down the road.

He holds out the flowers for you and you blink with shock as you stare first at the flower and then up at him. He gives you a glance as you stare at the bloomed stems and then he shakes them, hurrying you so that you’ll take them off his camouflaged metal hand.

Quickly you take them but then look to see what might be in his eyes, searching for what Steve had said was there. But Bucky’s already looking at the stalls as you walk past them, eyeing unique jewelry made locally.

He stops at one, a large array of huge beads strung together in stunning colors of red, orange, green, blue, and yellows. There are a few painted purples and pinks. Bucky, however, ignores these and lingers by the smaller selection of stunning silver bracelets, necklaces, and rings.

“If you wanted affection, you should have brought your boyfriend. I’ve got none of that for you.” He says, cruelly—or so it feels like to you.

You yank your arm out of his and he looks at you, confused as you glare at him with all the hurt you feel and stomp away, back towards the hotel.

This is nothing like you’re used to. This fancy place that Steve chose for you and Bucky. Though, your cover makes sense with it. Newlywed couple on their honeymoon. You’re much more familiar with the dilapidated and inexpensive hotels that smell funny and disreputable guests stream in and out at all hours of the night.

This place is huge and expensive, and the stupid white limestone flooring of the large lobby shines up at you pleasantly. The soft gray palate of the room mixed with the browns and yellows of local wood and palm make you feel all peaceful, or they would if you weren’t nursing an aching heart over Bucky’s declaration.

There is no wonder for you anymore. He definitely doesn’t like you.

You’re so distracted that you’re not paying attention as you make your way towards the back of the lobby to head back to your ocean bungalow. Because of this lapse in judgement, you don’t notice the woman falling. She pushes against her own husband, who stumbles back against the concierge trying to explain to them that there are limits to alcohol that can be consumed in public spaces on the property, who then goes flying into a table, which knocks a lamp towards the floor that a large man with huge biceps, wide shoulders, olive tanned skin, sharp thick curving eyebrows and the face of a fantasy Hawaiian God dives for.

He misses of course and the lamp breaks into hundreds of pieces in front of him. You just so happen to be walking straight for the sharp bits. It startles you and you jump sideways to get out of the way which makes you lose your balance making the God man dive for you and this time he catches his mark.

“Oops.” The man says. “Careful, I’ve got you.”

“Holy…oh my God, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, shocked by the graceless display. Several hotel employees race for you and the God and proceed to make a fuss.

“Are you alright?” One asks.

“I am so sorry!” Says the concierge.

“Someone get a broom!” Another employee yells before hurrying off to probably get one herself.

“I-I’m fine.” You stutter, staring at the remnants of lamp as the God man takes a few steps away and then carefully lowers you back onto your feet.

“You sure?” He asks and you finally meet his eyes. Stunning light eyes, green? Hazel? It’s hard to tell in the dim light of the hotel interior.

“Um…” It takes a second for you to regain composure because his accent is very American but also, this mother fucker is your mark! Definitely not a God no matter how much he might look like one. Just a lousy human being. “Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I tried to jump out of the way but-”

“Don’t apologize. It never hurts to rescue a pretty lady.” He whispers and your cheeks burn.

“Oh, um…” You laugh nervously then reach back as if to scratch your lower back but swiftly pull the fake wedding band from your left hand’s ring finger. “Thanks?”

He laughs. “My pleasure. Really, it was my fault. If I’d caught the lamp, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“No.” You laugh. “Really, it wasn’t your fault. Technically it was that woman over there’s fault.”

What? Just because you’re distracted that doesn’t mean you didn’t know what was happening. You did. You just weren’t paying enough attention to make it matter.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman yells towards you.

“No.” You laugh once again, nervous and feeling guilty towards the woman. “Really, it’s okay.”

The God is laughing. Chuckling at you.

“This is embarrassing.” You gush.

“Or endearing?” He offers and you look up at him. He’s so damn tall. How are there so many men surrounding you that are so freaking huge? It’s not fair and it isn’t right and- “I wish I could do something to alleviate your embarrassment.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I’ll survive.” You assure him and begin to move around him. “You know, I might be too embarrassed to eat now, if I’m honest, but I’ll be fine.”

“Woah, wait, then maybe you’ll let me buy you dinner?”

“What?” You ask, ‘surprised’ but not really. He took the bait which is all you were hoping for.

“It’s the least I could do. How about tonight? In the hotel restaurant?” He seems genuinely excited to take you, but you remind yourself that he’s shifty. He’s not to be trusted. This is also too good to pass up.

“Oh, I uh…I don’t know that my husband would be too happy about some really hot guy taking me out to dinner.” You slip your ring back on your finger and show him your left hand. It’s best to stick to the plan as close as possible and being married to Bucky is part of that plan.

“I see. Yikes. Well, I can scratch that one off my to-do list. Hit on hot married woman.”

“You think I’m hot?” You flirt, quirking a brow while biting your bottom lip.

His eyes suddenly sparkle, and he takes a step towards you.

“Where is this husband?” He wonders, looking at no one but you.

“We um…he got mad at me. He left. I’m not sure whether that means he left the island or left town or left me.” You inject some of that very real sadness into your eyes from Bucky’s rejection and the God seems to buy it.

“Bummer.” He sighs.

“Yeah, so, I’m going to go check to see if he came and got his stuff.” You gesture behind you, towards your bungalow.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, let’s just say that I go to the hotel restaurant around eight? And if you come, great. If not, no harm done.”

You smile, tilting your head to the right. “I’ll come if he really left me. If-if he’s not there. I’ll come.”

“Great.” The God smiles and nods. “Your name?”

“Lilly.” You lie. “And you are?”

“Aaron.” He tells the truth!

“Aaron. Okay. I may see you later then.” You smile and turn to leave.

“For the record? I hope he’s not there.” Aaron admits and you bite your bottom lip.

“See you around, Aaron.”

You leave him waving, making sure not to glance back.

“You approached our mark?” Bucky’s voice is irritated, and you hate to hear it. Normally you’re swooning internally at the very sound of his lazy timber but today, right now, you don’t want to hear it. Especially when he sounds so annoyed.

“I didn’t approach him.” You explain. “I tripped and he caught me when I was trying to avoid a crashing lamp.”

“What did he say to you?”

You turn to look at Bucky. You’ve had your back to him since you came inside the bungalow. He’s leaning up against the space beside the light wooden doorway. The slats behind his back are made of the same shade of soft bleached wood. The rest of the bungalow, the wall to his left and your right as you turn to look at him, is nothing but glass and open sliding doors.

You’ve got an amazing view of the clear turquoise sea. The small wooden pier attached to your bungalow has two white fluffy seats, right on the floor for lounging. At the end of the small extension is a metal ladder that extends down into the ocean for private swimming. Inside again, the bungalow is equipped with luxurious chairs, a large king size bed, a soft teal carpet, a dresser, a TV, soft couch, and a small kitchenette.

With the warm ocean breeze wafting in the smell of brine, you can almost lose yourself in this place, if only it weren’t for the fake marriage, the mark, and the fact that you’re head over heels for your partner.

“He asked me out to dinner, after I tripped, and he caught me. Saved me.”

Bucky scoffs.

You glare at him and move towards your closet to look at the clothes you brought. You sift through two cocktail dresses you’d packed, specifically with an opportunity like tonight in mind.

You choose the longer of the two. After talking to the mark, it seems he's a much bigger softy than initially thought. He'll appreciate the flowing material.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky asks.

“Dinner will go well. I’ll make sure it does. He'll take me back to his room. I’ll lift the package and then we can get the hell off this stupid island.” You throw the dress onto the bed, giving Bucky your back again because you’re still upset.

At him. At Steve. You know it's not their fault you have a crush…but you wanna blame someone, just not yourself.

“That's what you're wearing? Isn’t it too revealing?”

“Well I gotta get in there, right? The whole point is to get him to take me to his room, James. Of course, it's too revealing.” But it really isn’t, not compared to the other one. This one is downright tame.

You reach back, arching your back as you try to pull the zipper of your much more casual yellow day dress down.

Bucky's hands are suddenly there, slapping your hand away. He pulls the zipper down, the sound of metal splitting too loud in the suddenly heavy air.

You try and concentrate. Keep your breathing from becoming labored at the thought of Bucky pulling your zipper down. Then he pushes the back open wide, his hot calloused fingers slowly grazing against the bare skin of your back.

Is he trying to kill you?! Holy fuck.

“Are you really going to sleep with him?” Bucky asks, voice soft, hot breath wafting against the nape of your neck. You officially hate him.

“If I have to. We could save lots of lives with that package. It's worth it.” And it is. It sucks for you, but you’ve got a job to do and you agreed, once upon a time when you were sworn into S.H.I.E.L.D. that you were going to put the wellbeing of others before your own on missions.

“What about Steve?” Bucky asks, the rough pads of his fingers still pressed against the skin of your back making goosebumps pimple your skin.

The sun is already starting to set. You need to finish getting ready.

“What about Steve?” You ask, annoyed.

“He won't like his girl sleeping with someone else.”

You sigh. “I’m not his girl.”

Silence. Two beats in fact. But it’s suddenly raging in the room, his temper rising.

“What?” He asks, the word a soft slap.

“I said, I’m not Steve’s girl. He was…I don’t know, playing a trick on you? I don’t know why.” You lie. You now exactly why. “I just went along with it because he seemed so invested in it. We’re not dating. Never have been.”

“Why are you lying?” Bucky demands, his hands slipping in further underneath your dress, pushing it off your shoulders as he grabs tight and painful hold of your biceps.

“I’m not lying. I think maybe he just wanted to get us back on mission together because we used to be so good together. But clearly that’s not the case anymore seeing as we can’t even keep a damn cover going.” Your alluding back to the market earlier in the day doesn’t escape his notice and he must have also noticed whatever had happened back then because he sighs heavily. “I’m no one’s girl.”

He releases you and you wish he wouldn’t. Instead of acting on it, you push the dress you’re wearing down and slip on the new one. Bucky helps you zip that one up too, tying the clasp at the neck for you. You glance at yourself in the mirror.

The dress is long, ombre fading from black at the thick halter neckline to stunning turquoise. There are small sparkles along the entirety of the sheer overlay, it looks like brilliant stars. Aquamarine ocean reflecting stunning starlight. The dress underneath is short, barely reaching your mid-thigh, and turquoise but made of soft flowing silk.

You slip on the only pair of black strappy evening shoes you brought then head out without another word to your partner.

Hot lips press against your neck as you hold onto the strong wide shoulders pressed against your chest. Wet open-mouthed kisses lick their way down along the length of your throat. Hard hands grip your hips.

“God you smell incredible.” Aaron’s gruff voice whispers against your collarbone.

You chuckle breathlessly, trying to let yourself fall into the moment because you need to sell it.

“You taste so good.” He groans, his hand sliding back to your behind to grab a fistful of flesh. “Let me taste you.”

You shut your eyes briefly then place your hands on his shoulders and push him down until he’s level with your pelvis. He looks up at you, eyes burning with lust. You focus and give him the same.

“I’m not wearing any underwear.” You assure him and his hazel eyes sparkle, his mouth widens into a pearly white grin, and he hikes up your left leg hooking it over his shoulder as he pushes your dress up. Hot breath washes over your sex.

You shiver. And then the large body nearly pressing against you slumps sideways, unconscious.

“Aaron?” You lower your leg, push your dress down, and kneel beside him.

You press two fingers to the pulse point at his neck and find a slow but steady rhythm.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, confused.

“I got the package. Let’s go.” Bucky’s voice makes you jump. You press your hand to your chest, startled by his sudden presence.

“What did you do to him?” You demand, still on your knees.

Bucky’s wearing sleep clothes already, a pair of low-slung gray pants and a tight black muscle tee. Under his arm is a very small briefcase about the size of a lunch box. The package. He walks over to you and moves out the front door but waits with his hand on the handle for you to get up and follow.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” He orders and you know you don’t have to follow but you do because the mission is done.

“What did you do to him?” You demand once more, following after him with staccato taps of your heels.

“I slipped him a sedative during dinner. He’ll wake up in a day and we’ll be long gone.”

“You could have told me.” You grumble, arms crossed over your chest defensively as the two of you exit the internal part of the hotel and begin to cross the pier to your bungalow.

“I wanted to see how far you’d go.” Bucky admits. His hair swishes, damp and dark in the starlit night. Slightly cooler air caresses the skin of your bare shoulders and makes your skirt flutter.

“All the way, if need be. What do you care? If the mission requires that I-”

Bucky suddenly rounds on you, reaching for your elbow. “The mission?”

“Bucky…”

“The mission?!” Whatever he was about to say falls to the back of his mind as his eyes scan the area behind you. He growls and lets his hand fall into your hand. He pulls you along roughly, your heels stumbling against the wood as you struggle to keep your balance.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall.” You complain and he stops. He dips low, your stomach against his shoulder, right arm behind your knees as he lifts you up and continues to walk quickly.

“Bucky!”

“Be quiet.” He orders and you fall silent. You know that voice. Mission time.

When he reaches the bungalow, he sets you down and turns to shield you from view. “Get inside.”

You quickly unlock the door and he pushes you inside as he backs up. Once clear of the door, he shuts it, and peeks through the peephole.

“What is it?”

“Scouts. Probably noticed the package is missing. Did anyone else see you with the mark?” Bucky asks, turning to finally look at you.

You shake your head. “A few civilians when he asked me to dinner but other than that, no. We were in a private room.” Which is why you don’t even know how the hell Bucky was able to get the dude sedated. Had he put it in his food?

“Good.” He sighs then moves to secure the package inside the larger suitcase he’d brought for it.

You stand with your arms wrapped around your shoulders, staring through the peephole to see if anyone is approaching. Hands on your hips make you turn.

“What-?”

You have no real time to react because Bucky’s there, kissing your lips. He does it slowly, large pink folds moving against yours soft and hot. You pull back, your heart aflutter.

“What are you doing?” You blink, trying to understand the soft look in his eyes.

“Keeping our cover.” He says but that’s stupid. “Don’t pull away again.”

And you don’t want to. So, when he cups the sides of your face and presses his lips to yours more tentatively, you react by tracing the shape of his lower lip with your own tongue.

He gasps, turning his moan into an inhale and seals your lips with his more securely. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting delicious red velvet.

“Wait, wait, wait…” You pull back and Bucky growls. “What are you doing?”

“I like you. More than like, okay? And the idea of you—with that guy?”

“So, it was okay with Steve but not with the mark?”

“Yes.” Bucky sighs.

“Why?”

“Because I love Steve. And if he wanted you, he-he deserves you so much more than I do.” Bucky tilts his head slightly, his eyes dark and brooding.

“Bucky…”

“I only asked to stop being paired up for missions because I was falling for you more and more. Every time we came out it got more complicated and you deserve more than me.”

“You’re stupid.” You tell him.

He blinks, surprised. “Stupid?”

Sudden footsteps outside and masculine voices interrupt you. “Who was he with?”

“I don’t know.” Says another voice.

“Check that one, I’ll check this one.”

They approach your door and you look back at Bucky who suddenly lunges for you. No holds barred, he cups the mound between your legs, shocking you into moaning loudly. His lips find your throat and he sucks gently on the salty skin. Everything is lightly salted here with the ocean so close.

The steps behind the door stop.

“Louder, Y/N.” Bucky tells you and you’re so at a loss for oxygen that you can’t moan again. He slips his hand under your skirt, and you hadn’t lied when you’d told Aaron you weren’t wearing panties.

Bucky gasps as he find you bare, soaked, and wanting. His fingers press against your folds lightly before he finds your nub with his metal thumb and flicks it back and forth relentlessly.

“AH!” You moan, your voice breathless but the moan loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Hey!” The masculine voice behind the door whisper shouts. “Come here, listen to this.”

Perverts.

“Were you this wet with the mark?” Bucky asks, curious but also jealous?

You shake your head as he continues to flick your nub. You shudder and since he needs you to moan again for the audience outside, he slips a finger slowly inside you.

“Ooh!” You mewl and Bucky’s lips twitch. His tongue darts out from behind them and he drops to his knees, hikes up your left leg just as Aaron had, but wastes no time as he leans in to taste your core. “Shit!”

Hands fisted into his hair, you twitch against his mouth as he laps you up, needy and greedy as he reaches behind your bottom to push you harder against his lips.

“You need to moan, Y/N.” Bucky says because your breathing is labored, and you can hardly speak but if that’s what he needs…

“That feels…that feels so…so good B-” Woah, nope, can’t say his name! “-baby.”

Bucky smiles. Satisfied that you were able to turn his name into a pet name, then delves deeper. He finds your nub, closes his hot lips around it and sucks gently.

“Fuck!” You gasp, pulling his head closer as he slurps and suckles. The noises are sinful and the fact that Bucky’s the one between your legs drives your body heat up. Suddenly, you’re shaking your head, you’re pushing his back because you can feel the pressure building.

It’s coming, edging closer as Bucky refuses to pull way from you. He uses his strength to hold you close, sucking harder then tonguing your nub with the flat of his tongue as he rocks your hips against his face.

“B-” Damn him! You were going to say his name. “Baby, baby, oh shit, baby…I’m…”

You don’t get to finish because the pressure crashes, and your hips are lit with fire. Your left leg wraps around his head, holding him in place as your climax shakes your body over and over until you’re left weak and satisfied.

You loosen your leg and watch as Bucky wipes his mouth but licks his lips of any remaining juices before he stands and leans over your shoulder to peek out of the peephole.

“They’re gone.” He informs you as you sag against the door.

He leans back, looking you over before finding your hips with his hands. He lifts you up against that door and hooks your legs around his waist. You bring your arms—still feeling loose and numb from your orgasm—up around his neck and with you secure, he takes you to the bed and lays you flat on your back.

“Where were we?” He asks, as he settles half beside you, half on you.

“I uh…I called you stupid.” You remember.

“Right. Why am I stupid?” Bucky asks, curious, but a small playful glint in his eyes.

“Because I’ve been in love with you since Nepal. Dumbass.” You sigh, still reeling but annoyed at his obliviousness.

“Since Nepal?” Bucky asks, his metal hand which had begun to stroke your hair, stops. “But that’s like a year ago.”

“Hence the dumbass.” You grumble.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Bucky asks, his eyes pained. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you asked to stop going on missions with me. I-I thought you hated me.” You shrug. “So, I started to scare you and annoy you because it was the only interaction I could get out of you.”

Bucky shakes his head, “I could never hate you, Y/N.”

He leans down and presses his lips to the bare skin of your shoulder, moving slowly up further along your neck.

“Never.”

Still heated from the little show he’d put on for the scouts, you sigh heavily, stifling a moan with a bite to your lip. “Oh, Bucky…”

It feels good to moan his name.

“That sounds so fucking great.” Bucky sighs. “Say my name again.”

“Bucky…Bucky…oh, Bucky…” You mewl.

Bucky kisses you, hard, with need and desire. When he pulls back, he stares into your sex-hazed eyes.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He admits.

It drives the lust from you temporarily as you assess the sincerity in his declaration. He sounds and looks like he means it.

You smile.

He moves away from you, and you hate it. You want him there with you, on you. Always. He reaches into the pocket of the pants he was wearing earlier and produces something that shines brightly in the dim light of the Caribbean stars and moon.

“And you’re wrong.” Bucky says, fitting something on your right wrist as he lays back over you, bouncing the bed and you along with it. When he pulls back, you stare at a beautiful silver bracelet set with varying shapes of blue beach stone. Soft blue, like steel. It reminds you of Bucky’s eyes.

“About what?”

“You’re my girl.” He declares then dives back down for another kiss.

“So?” Steve wonders with a small smile stretched across his plush pink lips. “How’d it go?”

“We secured the package. Nat and Bruce are already decoding the files.”

“I…I mean with Bucky, Y/N.” Steve clarifies.

You laugh. “Oh. Um…we’re going out tomorrow. Our first date.”

Steve’s eyes darken a little and his smile wavers, but you don’t notice. “That’s so great, Y/N. I knew he was just being stubborn.”

“Yeah. I…thanks a lot, Steve. We wouldn’t have got together if it wasn’t for you. You’re always so kind and supportive.” You assure him.

Bucky’s head suddenly peeks into the office. “Hey, come on, your food’s getting cold.” Bucky gives Steve a nod.

Steve returns it but you move to the door and take Bucky’s hand and follow him out.

Steve sits back, staring at the doorway as his smile slowly falls until he’s simply watching the empty space with a small distant sadness in his eyes. “Yeah…I’m the best.”

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