#and i tell her hey the shit is low i cannot turn it off its not taking any input | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

free-pool-trash · 3 years

Text

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

1K notes · View notes

keiarchived · 3 years

Text

Come To The Back | 18+

bodyguard!Dabi x rich spoiled!Reader x bodyguard!Hawks

warnings: dubcon/noncon, drugged, intoxicated, somnophila, breeding kink, split roasting

words: 1.6k

note: Decided to take part in BNHA Degeneracy discord server’s 9 to 5 collab last minute 👀 one of the nastier stuff I’ve written 💦 scummy duo ahead, read with caution ⛔️

Babysitting spoiled brats like you can never be less annoying, all you ever really wanted to do in your spare time is to party, get wasted and high. Whilst the duo have to follow you around all day because it is your daddy’s order after all, ‘Keep my daughter safe or I will have your heads.’ He made sure the consequences were known if they failed, Keigo and Touya were merely bodyguards send to protect this spoiled brat daughter of this billionaire. They have no influence like he does, sure they could run but they can’t hide forever. You are supposed to be good for your daddy, stay out of danger since his rival is out to get him and his family.

Getting only a few hours of sleep each day because of you had begun to wear their patient, it wasn’t as though they could talk to you about it. Believer me, they tried. But of course, your spoiled brat ass went running to your daddy and complained about how Hawks and Dabi were being mean to you which results in their first warning; wedges cut for a month all thanks to you. They simply don’t get paid enough for this, for putting up with you and your father’s bullshit.

But a job is a job, they needed the money. Let’s just hope this issue your father have between him and some of his acquaintances resolves quickly before one of them snaps out of bitterness.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The taller male huffed heavily, palms resting on either side of his hips as he stared down at your unconscious form. Your so-called friends were long gone after the party at this particular club has ended, leaving you out cold in the VIP booth before moving on with their night. You were mumbling none sense as Keigo went ahead and sat you upright with a soft coo, “Hey, you okay? Just drunk, stupidly high or both? Know where you are an angel?” Of course, the only responses they managed to get out of you were mumbles and grumbles that made absolutely no sense. “She’s definitely out of it.”

“You don’t say, let’s her out of here.” Touya bites back with a sigh, cigarette between his fingers. Seems like tonight will just be another night of them carrying your unconscious form back to the mansion, tugging you back into that warm and cosy cover of yours — or at least that’s what they should and suppose to do.

But rather they end up stripping those slutty clothes of yours, that’s what you want right? For men like them to use this body of yours, just admit it. You had been tempting and playing around with the duo for long enough, wearing these short skirts whenever they are around. Swaying your hips and batting your eyes at them whenever you pass them, you know fair well they cannot touch you because if your daddy knew; they would be gone. Good thing the man himself is gone for a couple of days due to a business trip, oh and they are going to have their fun with you.

One cock in your mouth and another buried deep inside your pussy, the duo wasted no time in stripping you naked after all. With your intoxicated and drugged-out self, it was easy for them to move you around, passing you between the two of them. “Fuck me, this pussy is good.” Keigo chuckled breathlessly, snapping his hips into that tight cunt of yours. Surely this is just an act right, pretending to be asleep so that they can continue to use you and let out their pent up frustration on you.

A cloud of smoke slipped between Touya’s lips has a low groan rumbled at his chest, stroking that slightly bulge neck of yours whilst a sadistic smirk tugged at his lips. You look much better like this, with cock at either end of your holes and being used them. “You should try these pretty lips too, given if you can last another round.” Touya taunts, earning a grunt from Keigo as he merely rolled his eyes at the other. “Fuck off.”

Just as the two began to bicker at each other, noises begin to come out of you. “Looks like our princess is awake.” Slowly, Touya slipped his hard pierced cock from those pretty plush lips. Allowing you to take a gasp of air whilst being as confused as ever with those hazy eyes, “Wh-what you doing?” There was a sense of panic in your voice and honestly, either one of them can blame you. Waking up to your bodyguards fucking you into cloud nine doesn’t happen every day and god knows how long they’ve been at it, “Oh don’t worry dove, we’re just taking good care of you. Right Dabs?” It was hard to keep his voice level without cracking as your ridge walls clamps down so tightly around his cock, even harder to hide that shit-eating smirk. Your jaw feels sore from how Touya been using you roughly, pussy feeling full, nice and stretched by Keigo’s cock.

“Exactly, you should be grateful, your highness. We don’t do this often, not free of charge at least.” Dabi’s voice was dangerously low as he mocked, reaching behind your neck and forcing you to take a look at the way his partner in crime’s cock disappearing into your slutty cunt. Even when you were passed out, it didn’t stop you from moaning and gushing slick between your legs. “This is what spoiled brats get when they tease too much.” A desperate whimper fell at those words, now that you are slightly more oriented you could feel the pleasure that comes with every thirst of Keigo’s hard cock. It would be a complete lie if you said you have never fantasied the duo take you like this before, they are handsome and attractive after all. Keigo with his witty charm and Dabi with his mysterious charm, it is hard to say no.

“That’s it baby, take it all! I-I’m cumming!” Keigo unloaded yet another ropes of cum deep inside your cunt, right up against your cervix adding to the growing mess. This totals up to three for his scores, Touya had been keeping track. Your lips hung open with drools tickling down the side of your lips, body reaching its own high whilst Keigo pulled out from your soaked pussy.

“Aw look at you, so pretty and all fucked out.” The sandy blonde man coos almost sympathetically, tugging those loose strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. Seems like Touya had been doing quite the number on you too whilst fucking your throat open, it must be sore from those smooth metal rubbing and nudging along your velvety walls. You could feel your conscious fading in and out from that orgasm alone, swallowing on your own drool thickly as Keigo’s cum seeps out from you. Too bad this is far from over, Touya’s smirk widens as he leans down to capture those swollen lips. Exploring every inch he possibly can, warm metal swapping across your inner cheeks and lips. After all, you deserve a reward after taking Keigo’s load so good with your well-bred cunt.

“Don’t pass out on us just yet princess, you can take a few more rounds can’t you? For us hm?” Touya coos softly, cigarette scent lingering as he traces over your chin with his rough fingers. Keigo and his partner in crime exchanged a look; the look with a same shit-eating smirk stretched across their lips before switching places with Touya running his cock back and forth between your swollen slit and Keigo nudging at those pouty lips of yours. “Good girl.” One of them praises but you weren’t so sure who it was from, head spinning from the alcohol and drugs you had consumed hours before.

Touya is much rougher than the blonde when it comes to pounding you, with a merciless pace as the tip of his cock continuously hammer at your cervix. Pressing all of the right buttons inside with those round metals of his piercings, “Fuck.. you are good.. should’ve done this a long time ago.” He can barely count the number of time he had wanted to put you back in your places with his hands, forcing them to stay up all night just so you can get home safely — thrust, railing them on purpose — thrust. But Touya managed to hold back, that was until now where the final line has been drawn. It is a risky bet but Touya bet on that you wouldn’t tell your daddy how good your bodyguard fucked you, filled you to the brim with cum and made you into their own personal cumdump. You wouldn’t, why would you when you could have them do it all over again?

Keigo had you choking on a mixture of your own saliva and his essence, quickening his pace once as you could feel the way your throat burns deliciously around him throbbing cock. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased them as much as you had, maybe you should’ve listened to Dabi’s warnings of this dangerous game you had been playing with them. But it’s too late now, they had caught you by your cunt and lips. “Fuck... gonna breed you, see how your daddy likes it when he finds you all swollen with some unknown child.” Touya grunts, letting out a breathy laugh before it turns into something sinister. “You wouldn’t even know who’s the baby daddy would you?” Touya hissed at the way you suddenly squeezed around him when he mentioned it, “Oh you like it huh?” Which only made him grin wider as his climax approached and without a second warning — ropes of warm cum painted both ends of your walls white.

Your bodyguards are now a panting mess as they withdraw from you, sitting on the edge of your now white stained bed whilst a faint chuckle escaped Touya’s lips. “Liked the idea of bearing our kid that much? You slut.” The night is still young and it will be a few more days before you daddy comes home from his business trip, you couldn’t help but wonder what other ways the two of them would use you. Licking over your lips hazily, out of focus eyes gazed towards the two male. You want more, don’t you?

#bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha imagines #mha smut #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader x hawks #hawks x reader x dabi #collab #hawks smut #dabi smut #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #tw’dubcon #tw’drug #tw’intoxicated #tw’somn #tw’breeding #tw’split roasting

1K notes · View notes

delaber · 3 years

Text

Coming Home

Note: The fic no one asked for but I still wrote because I had to. Pretty sure this will be my last Rafa fic. It’s been a ride. Thank you!

Words: 7.7K

It was one of those blisteringly hot days where all you wanted to do was to laze about in front of a fan with your feet up and eat popsicles in the hopes of cooling just a tiny bit down. The sun was scorching and there was little to no wind at all, making it close to unbearable to be out of the shade for more than two minutes at a time - but unfortunately, you found yourself stuck in the middle of a very sunny lawn at Nat's garden-themed birthday party. Several times during the day, you had caught yourself looking jealously towards the enticing pool area at the end of the lawn but unfortunately had to settle for self-administered time-outs in the shade under various palm trees that were lining the garden.

At one of said time-outs, the birthday girl Nat approached you with a huge smile and two drinks in hand, "oh, there you are!" She exclaimed happily as she reached the same tree as you and handed you one of the piña coladas she was holding, "I've been looking all over!"

"Sorry," you smiled at your best friend and accepted the cocktail she was offering you, "I needed to cool down for a bit," you said while fanning your hand in front of your face

"Ooh, great idea - make room for me," Nat too stepped under the shade of the palm tree and immediately started fanning her top, "Jesus Christ, it's hot today!"

"Well, you were the one to insist on not having gazebos for your party," you shot your best friend a small smile, "it ruins the aesthetic," you mimicked her words from a few days ago with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up!" Nat let out a chortle, "I clearly made a terrible decision."

"Yeah, you should always listen to me and Diggs," you chuckled while having a sip of your tropical drink, enjoying how it slowly seemed to lower your core temperature as soon as the cold liquid hit your oesophagus.

"Hey, speaking of; have you seen him?" Nat squinted her eyes while shooting her phone a glance, "he's not answering any of my texts."

"I talked to him over by the snacks a little over an hour ago," you pointed over your shoulder, "he said he had to take off for a bit."

"He had to take off?" Nat furrowed her eyebrows, looking directly at you with disbelief written all over her face. From her expression alone, you could tell what was going through her head; as Nat's long-term boyfriend, Diggs knew exactly how important her birthday was to her. "That's seems a bit out of character..." she mumbled sadly.

"Aww, don't worry - he'll be back in a bit."

"What was so important for him to do on today of all days?" Nat sounded crestfallen.

"Come on Nat, what kind of an errand could he possibly have to run on his girlfriend's birthday?" You rolled your eyes.

"...But he already got me a present," she fiddled with the shiny new bracelet around her wrist.

"Maybe he's getting you a surprise," you shrugged mysteriously.

"Really?" The sad look on Nat's face was quickly replaced by wide eyes accompanied by a broad smile, "A surprise?"

"Don't tell him I said anything!" you laughed.

"Well, did he tell you what it was?"

"Nope... He probably knew we'd end up having this conversation," you chuckled.

"Slick bastard," Nat muttered under her breath before her voice returned to normal, "well, I hope he gets back soon. Of course I'm excited about the surprise but I don't want him missing out on the party."

As if on cue, a loud clanking noise coming from the shrub-embedded gate at the other end of the lawn had both you and Nat whip your heads around; Diggs had stepped inside the closed-off garden with a huge smile plastered on his face, stopping as soon as his feet hit the soft grass. He scanned the area for the birthday girl, and when his gaze finally landed on Nat, you watched how his face immediately turned soft as their eyes met across the lawn.

"Ah, there he is," Nat sighed happily as she took in her handsome boyfriend.

"...yeah, but he's empty handed," you added with a sigh after a quick scan for a birthday present in his open palms.

"Oh, you're right. Must be something he can stow away in a pocket..."

"Or something that's too heavy for him to carry alone," you added.

"Either way I'm just glad he's back," Nat said dreamily and send Diggs a small wave to which he replied with a sappy smile and a wink.

"Ah, I'm third-wheeling so hard right now," you gagged and with a grin turned your back towards Diggs in the hopes of making it less awkward for yourself.

"Yeah, sorry babe," Nat was biting her lower lip, trying to contain herself as she gazed at her handsome boyfriend over your shoulder.

"You look terribly confused all of a sudden," you laughed as you took in Nat's furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, he's just... standing there - why is he not moving?"

"What? He's standing completely still?" you arched an eyebrow, looking at Nat who still wasn't sparing you a glance.

"No, he's... looking for something on the other side of the hedges. And he's talking to someone - I think?"

"On the phone?"

"No... - oh wait, looks like he brought someone along."

"He brought someone?" you repeated curiously, "who?"

"I don't know. I don't recognise him..." Nat looked confused as she squinted her eyes, trying to focus on what was happening at the other end of the lawn. Then suddenly, her face changed, "- hey, is that...? No - wait... - Oh my god! It is!" She finally whipped her head around, looking directly at you with huge eyes, "he's here."

"...Who is?" you looked at her confused.

Nat didn't have time to answer your question before a male voice that you didn't immediately recognise rang from behind you, "Ey yo, Nat!"

"I'm sorry..." Nat whispered, "- but I have to..." she shot you a pained look before she moved past you with a squeal as she briskly walked away from the shade under the palm tree.

Confused, you spun around and scanned the lawn for Diggs and his mystery companion. Diggs had put on one of his more colourful outfits, and your eyes were immediately drawn to him and the smug smile he was wearing as he took in Nat who was now running at full-speed towards a sharp-dressed man to his right.

"Rafa!" Nat exclaimed loudly as she fell into the well-dressed man's arms, "you're here! I can't believe it!" she squealed.

The mere sound of his name made the hairs on the back of your neck stand while the blood quickly drained from your face. You instantly felt your throat go dry and your head dizzying as Nat's words rang in your ears. Rafa was here? Rafa as in Rafael? No, it couldn't be...

You adjusted your gaze slightly but sure enough; there he was. In the middle of the lawn in a tight embrace with your best friend. None other than Rafael Casal.

That. Fucking. Prick.

"You're kidding me..." you mumbled under your breath.

What the fuck was he doing here?!

You immediately felt your heart rate increasing and your palms getting sweaty as you took him in. He had grown a beard and cut his hair short, making the area above his forehead strangely lonely without its familiar swoop of hair that he had been so fond of back when you had known him. Your eyes travelled across his face that was plastered with the toothy grin you had once loved, and down to the strong arms that you had once known every vein of. There weren't any tattoos on his arms that you didn't recognise but he had definitely built more muscle mass since the last time you'd seen him.

You had to admit that even though you were more than regularly annoyed with him, he looked good - he just didn't look like Rafa. Not your Rafa at least. He looked more man than jokester, a ghost of the boy you'd once called yours.

When the tight embrace in front of you finally ended, Rafa straightened up and looked over Nat's shoulder, his green eyes immediately piercing through you. He did a quick scan of you from the tip of your sneakers to the top of your head, and if it hadn't been for the fact that you knew that you looked good in your new dress, you might have grown flustered under his intense stare - but you didn't. He could stare all he wanted and meanwhile use the opportunity to think about what he had let go of - what he was missing out on!

He looked you up and down a few times and when his eyes reached yours, he sent you a tentative look and a careful smile that you didn't reciprocate. After all, pretending that Rafael Casal meant absolutely nothing to you was something you had perfected over the years.

When he finally realised that your face would remain stone cold and without the smallest trace of friendliness, he quickly looked back at Nat and sent her a broad smile as she began mumbling something to him about how he was the last person she'd expected to see today.

Meanwhile, you used the opportunity to march over to Diggs and pull him aside; "what the hell do you think you're doing?!" You hissed at him, your voice so low that only he could hear.

"Oh, I'm just watching my best friend and my girl reconcile after years apart," he smirked, his eyes still locked on the two friends talking excitedly in the middle of the lawn.

"Don't get smart with me, Diggs!" You said through gritted teeth, "why the fuck didn't you tell me that he was coming? You know how I feel about him! He's a snake!"

"Jesus Christ," Diggs rolled his eyes, "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. If you'd known that I was picking him up at the airport, you would've ended up faking an excuse to leave before I'd returned."

"And with good reason! You know what he did! I don't want to talk to him!"

"You need to resolve this shit between the two of you," he shrugged, "You need to learn to be in the same room as him. It's been way too long already, and it cannot go on like this forever."

"Oh, watch me!" You huffed childishly, looking over at Rafa's dumb smile as he said something incoherent to Nat.

"Bruh..." Daveed cocked his head and sent you an unimpressed look, "He didn't come to mess with you. He came for Nat... He misses her."

"- but," you tried to interject but Diggs immediately cut you off: "- And before you say anything -" he continued, "- look at how happy she is!" he gestured to Nat who had now gone back to hugging Rafa tightly, "I know that her loyalty to you dictates that she has to hate him or whatever, but she has clearly missed him too. So if you can't do it for yourself, please just behave yourself for Nat."

A guilty pang hit your chest when you looked at Nat's happy smile, and you realised that she had cut off all contact with Rafa for your sake. "For the record; I never told her she couldn't talk to him," you mumbled.

"I know," Diggs nodded, "that's just how good of a friend she is."

"Alright... I'll behave for Nat," you sighed with a slight scowl before you quickly continued, "- but I'm not going to talk to him! No way!"

Diggs shot his hands in the air in a surrendering manner, "hey: normal, regular behaviour is all I'm asking for! You can ignore him for all I care - just be civil."

You didn't answer Diggs but instead continued to scowl as you watched Rafa and Nat having a giggle about something. The sound of Rafa's obnoxiously loud laugh swimming in your ear canals made your stomach go annoyingly warm, and for a millisecond you actually wished that he was laughing at something dumb alongside you instead of Nat - or at least you wished for it until you reminded yourself of what he had done, and the familiar anger towards him soon returned.

"Aw, come on," Diggs let out a laugh when he saw your angry face. He gave your shoulder a playful shove before he put his arm around you, "let's get you a drink - you look like you need it."

"Yes, I need it!" you groaned as he led you away from Nat and Rafa, "- and a big one too 'cause my dumb friends had my nemesis fly in from New York behind my back."

Diggs laughed a little at your miserable tone of voice, "cheer up," he chuckled, pulling you a little closer, "...and to be fair, I did the inviting. Nat had nothing to do with this."

"God, you're the worst," you mumbled as you reached the self-service bar, "I cannot believe you'd spring this on me after what he did!"

"Come on. It's been three years," Daveed shrugged and smiled down at you before he pulled out two clean glasses.

"That's easy for you to say when you weren't implicated in it," you mumbled sourly without looking directly at him.

"I may not have been directly involved, but you know I still got caught up in the middle," Diggs sent you a short look before he poured both of you a drink, "- and I still am."

"How?" You said incredulously, "I literally never talk about him."

"Exactly," Diggs shot you a sideways glance as he screwed off the cap of a tonic water, "you never talk about him. It's forced."

"It's forced? Since when is not talking about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend forced?"

"I know you miss him," Diggs said softly and sent you a careful look.

You forced yourself to scoff as you accepted the gin tonic from him, "I have no idea what you're talking about! I literally could not care less about Rafael at all," you looked across the lawn and immediately caught Rafa's gaze that was aimed directly at you. His eyes were huge, his gaze soft and longing. You thought to yourself that he looked as if he was the one who'd been wronged all those years ago. As if you were the one who had disappeared off to New York before royally fucking everything up. Which you absolutely weren't!

Rafa had been annoying as hell all night! Whenever you were no more than a few milliseconds away from letting down your hair and forget about the fact that your nemesis was attending the same party as you, you could hear his annoying foghorn of a laugh in the group of people next to you. And although you were trying your absolute best to avoid him completely, he still seemed to be all over, somehow always within a ten-foot radius from you, his cutting-torch-like voice constantly poking at your eardrums.

You were successful in avoiding him up until around midnight when you unfortunately were careless enough to lay down your guard for a few seconds too long, not realising that he had approached you at the self-service bar while you had been looking around for a lime for your drink. "Hey," you heard a low growl behind you as you were cutting the citrus into wedges.

You didn't have to look up from the table to know who the voice belonged to. "Rafael," you said neutrally while screwing off the cap of the tequila bottle you were holding, pouring up a couple of ounces of liquid without sparing him a glance.

"Hmm... Ra-fa-el," he repeated slowly, dragging out the name and smacking his lips as if savouring how it rolled off his tongue, "you know what? I don't think I've ever heard you call me Ra-fa-el before."

With your gaze still firmly placed on the tequila-filled glass in front of you, you arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything as you continued working on the cocktail, desperate to not give in to his antics.

You could feel his gaze burning on your skin, his eyes following your every move as you poured Cointreau into the cocktail glass and quietly waited for him to leave you alone again. He didn't budge, however, and when he realised that you intended to keep your silence, he quietly asked, "...How are you doing?"

"Great," you said and pressed your lips firmly together.

"Good..." Out the corner of your eye, you could see his head bopping up and down as he took you in, "I - uhm - I always liked you in green, you know," he grinned cockily. You knew he was just acting this way to get your attention but annoyingly enough; it was working for him. His comment made you dart your eyes towards him, shooting him an unimpressed sigh that he reciprocated with a careful smile, anxious to see if his compliment had tugged at your heartstrings. But even though his words had made your head dizzy and your diaphragm contract considerably, you still managed to keep a straight face as you took him in. His gaze was soft and satisfied, and a strange feeling hit your guts when you looked into his green eyes for the first time in over three years. Seeing the familiarity of his overly confident gaze made you realise that he hadn't exactly turned into the destructive villain that you had made him out to be after he had moved to New York three years ago. Behind the masculine beard and the buzzcut, the jokester with the soft chin and the long quiff was still in there. Your Rafa was still in there, and for a tenth of a second it made your heart ache as you wished for a time that he had long ago ruined.

He had clearly realised that you were checking him out because slowly, yet surely, his smirk grew considerably while he maintained eye-contact. It made you furious! He. Did. Not. Have. The. Upper. Hand. Taking in your angry expression, he shifted the weight on his feet while giving out a low chuckle, "I guess what I mean to tell you is that you look good. Like really good! - even when you're fuming."

"You look old," you stated flatly to make him stop feeling so overly confident.

To your dismay, however, he wasn't the least bit hurt by your comment but instead spluttered happily and let out a loud laugh, making the crow's feet around his green irises dance around as his eyes squinted tightly together in amusement. He looked irritatingly handsome, and it made you even more annoyed with him; he wasn't supposed to be amused by your low blow, he was supposed to be devastated!

You chewed your bottom lip as he annoyingly confident ran a hand through his beard and took you in with his forever playful smile. The fairy lights surrounding the self-service bar caught something shiny around his wrist as he caressed his chin, and you recognised the piece of metal immediately. It made you scoff, "you really still have that?" You nodded towards the golden band around his arm that you had given him for his 25th birthday some years ago. Even though it had been quite expensive, you'd figured that he had thrown it out long ago.

"You're kidding me?" He said incredulously, furrowing his brows and fiddling with the shiny links around his arm, "of course I still have this! It means a lot to me, I wear it every day!" He sent you a tentative smile, once again checking to see if he was so lucky that his words had defrosted you.

He wasn't.

"What?" He asked with an amused twinkle in his eyes when he took in your unimpressed face, "I swear; It's one of my most treasured possessions."

"Rafael... Just..." You let out a small sigh and folded your arms across your chest, "- just drop the pleasantries and tell me why you're really here," you demanded, "I highly doubt you're here to small talk."

"Aw come on - I'm just here for Nat's party. I didn't come to stir shit up. I promise!" He looked at you with honest eyes, still with a trace of a smile on his lips.

"Then why are you attacking me at the drinks table?" You were surprised to hear how steady you managed to keep your voice when it felt as if your entire body was shaking.

"I just wanted to say hi," he shot you a careful look, taking in every movement of your facial muscles, "You've been avoiding me all day."

"Wonder why," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, looking away from him.

"I know it seems like an unnecessary question but are you still angry with me?" He asked, his smile still in place but suddenly a bit stiff.

"I was angry at first. Now I don't really care about you anymore," you smiled overly-sweetly.

"Yeah okay," Rafa's stiff smile faltered a bit and it looked as if you'd finally managed to knock him slightly off his course. This probably wasn't how he had imagined the conversation to go. It was a nice feeling to see him slightly panicked. "Ehm..." he smacked his lips, "would you like me to leave?"

"Yes," you breathed, but even you could hear the thickness of the lie in your throat. Even though you were keen on keeping your distance to him, you were still terribly curious as to why he had passed you up three years after your horrible break-up. After all, it had ended in lies and angry tears.

His smirk turned amused, and he could barely hold back a triumphant chuckle when he spoke, "I can tell you're not being serious," he tilted his head to the side.

"My God, you are insufferable!" you said through gritted teeth, "just tell me why you're here!"

"Well..." he licked his lips before he slowly stated, "Sofía's pregnant."

He had barely finished pronouncing the word pregnant before you felt the blood immediately drain from your face. "You're... having a baby?" You breathed and blinked a few times, bracing yourself for his answer. After everything that had happened, you couldn't believe that the mental image of Rafa with someone else was still able to make your stomach ache horribly, and you were immediately reminded of the fact that you hadn't left him because you had fallen out of love with him.

"Am I having a...-? Oh God no!" He laughed when he understood, "Sofía as in my sister! My sister is pregnant! I'm about to be an uncle. Tio Rafa."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you when his words finally settled, and the blood quickly returned to your cheeks making them unbearably hot. "Well, congratulations then, I guess," you mumbled, trying to conceal your flustered face.

"Thanks!" He smiled proudly and put on a goofy expression.

"I still fail to see what your sister's pregnancy has to do with me."

"Well, you see..." he licked his lips, "Sofía and her boyfriend are constantly talking about baby-stuff, and who in their lives are important to them, and insurances, and dying wills, and things like that - and I guess it kinda made me think about stuff in my life too," he gave out an awkward shrug, shooting you a careful look, "you know... Unresolved matters and so on..."

"...and then you thought about me?" You scoffed.

"Yeah," he nodded carefully, "I miss you."

"Rafael..." you closed your eyes and sighed in disbelief.

"Oof," he winced and it made you open your eyes and look at him. "- could you stop calling me that?" He looked pained, "It's - it's weird!"

"Well it is your name, isn't it?"

"I know, I know... Hearing it from you is just - it's just weird..." he mumbled while rubbing his neck, "only strangers call me by my first name."

"We're practically strangers."

"We are?" He looked taken aback.

You shot him a sideways glance, "yes, we are Rafael," you sighed and watched how his nostrils did an involuntary twitch at the sound of his given name.

He merely grunted while shooting you a weird look.

"What?" You asked incredulously, "you don't agree?"

"No. No, not at all," he shook his head, "I know you."

"Not anymore you don't," you turned back to your drink, stirring it a little just to give your shaking hands something to do.

"I know every freckle of your body..." he said quietly, his voice so full of emotion that it made your heart ache. "I know why you have a scar on your left knee," he continued, "I know all your guilty pleasures. What makes you tick. Your likes. Your dislikes. Of course I realise that we didn't end optimally but you can't pretend that we don't know each other," he ran a hand through his beard.

As soon as the words had escaped his mouth, you shot him an angry look, "we didn't end optimally?!" You hissed at him, "well, it was your fucking choice to end it that way, wasn't it?"

"Ah, so you are still mad at me," He stated flatly, taking in your expression.

You managed to turn off some of the fire you felt in your eyes before you spoke, "No I'm not, Rafael. As I said, I don't care about you at all," you said coldly, "Is that all? Can I go back to my best friend's birthday party now, or are you in the mood to ruin yet another one of my nights?" You shot him a deadpan look.

"I can't force you to talk to me," he said quietly, his eyes huge with disappointment.

"What do you even want to talk about?" Your voice was laced with frustration, "it's been three years! I've moved on - I don't need this, Rafa!" You wanted to smack yourself when you realised that you had let his pet name slip.

"I just want to apologise. Properly..." he said quietly while awkwardly rubbing his elbow, decent enough to let the use of his nickname slide.

"Apologising is not going to change what happened."

"I know... but you still deserve a proper apology from the guy who hurt you."

You gave out a scoff but didn't say anything.

"Look," Rafa continued, "can you please just give me ten minutes alone with you? Some place quiet. Ten minutes and I swear, I'll never talk to you again if you don't want me to. I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I think we both need it."

You weighed the pros and cons. Maybe it would actually be good for you to get some closure so you could finally forget about him? You decided that you might as well try. It'd be nice to stop thinking about him for good. "Fine! You have ten minutes and not a second more!" you said sternly, "but let me be very clear about one thing: I am not doing this for you!"

"I know," he nodded slowly, and followed you to a deserted bench a little away from the rest of the party.

He sat down next to you with a content sound, "Cig?" he asked while holding out a crumbled package.

"I quit," you pushed the package away, your fingers briefly brushing over his. It made him smile slightly but he quickly concealed it by clearing his throat.

"Good for you," Rafa nodded while lighting a cigarette for himself, taking a long drag while looking at you. "So..." he said quietly, "I hear that you finally landed that job you used to work so hard for."

"If you just wanted to smoke cigarettes and small talk, we didn't have to go all the way back here," you crossed your arms.

"Tough crowd," he laughed, "come on. Just humour me for a bit... I miss talking to you."

You scoffed, "you have nine minutes and fourty-five seconds left, Casal."

"Nine minutes and fourty-five seconds," he nodded in agreement, "so... that job of yours - congratulations! Your hard work finally paid off, huh?" He tried again.

"Have you been stalking my linked-in?" You said sourly.

"Nah, Diggs gives me little updates," Rafa chuckled awkwardly, "-or he did for a while at least. Up until about a year ago when he got real angry with me," Rafa clenched his teeth tightly together, looking uncomfortable.

"Diggs got angry?" You said in disbelief. Out of the two, Rafa was definitely the hot-headed one.

"Oh shit, yeah!" He nodded with a laugh, "I know it's hard to believe because it's such a rare occurrence but that just made it so much scarier! For a second, I thought he would punch me in the face!"

"Well, that should teach you to keep your abnormally large nose out of my business," you scoffed slightly.

"That's what he said too," Rafa chuckled, "-and that if I wanted to know how you were doing, I should give you a call myself," he sent you a small smile, "- but I knew you would have my balls in a wrench if I suddenly called you up out of the blue."

"Correct."

He smiled, "yet here we are. Talking quietly without screaming at each other. My balls free as ever."

"You're lucky I left my wrench at home today, Casal."

He let out an amused snort and took another drag of the cigarette, "yeah, I can't believe my luck this evening," he smiled without looking at you, "hey, while we're on the subject of updates; I - uhm - I also want to let you know that I heard about your dad. I was very sad to learn about his passing."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, and you held your arms a little closer to your chest, "Diggs told you about that too, huh?" You mumbled, unable to look Rafa in the eye. Even though little over two years had passed since your dad had died, thinking about him still hurt.

You felt Rafa nod beside you, "Yeah. He called me right after it happened... I know your dad meant a great deal to you. Meant a great deal to me too to be honest..." he sighed.

"I know..." you thought of the special bond the two men had always shared. Even long before you and Rafa had fallen in love, your dad had hoped that you would end up together.

"I was seconds away from flying home to see him off at the funeral, you know - but given how you and I ended things, I didn't think you should deal with me on top of losing your dad..." he shot you a sideways glance.

You decided not to tell Rafa about how you had woken up on the morning of the funeral, wishing that he had been there. Wishing that everything had magically gone back to normal overnight. Instead, you merely mumbled, "you should've come. My dad would've loved that... He always liked you."

"Yeah, I liked him too," Rafa nodded, "I still think about him every time I hear a terrible joke or see someone in a Laker's shirt."

"Oh god, all those fucking shirts," you groaned and thought of the hundreds of basketball shirts that your dad had had stacked neatly away in his closet. You couldn't believe that you had completely forgotten about them.

Rafa chuckled, "what did you end up doing with them? I imagine that you donated them in your dad's spirit."

"Naturally," you nodded and felt yourself uncross your arms for the first time since you'd sat down. "My mom kept one, and the orphanage got most but we auctioned off the rarest ones and gave the money to charity. That was what he wanted, you know."

"Ah, what an icon," Rafa sighed, "well, you should be proud of him and the work he did for the community. He was a great man. A proper role model for the bay."

You nodded in agreement while scanning Rafa. It was nice to talk about your dad with someone who knew him but who hadn't seen him fragile and sick. Someone who didn't think of him as his diagnosis, and you realised that for the first time since his passing, things actually seemed fairly back to normal. Sitting side by side with Rafa actually felt welcome and normal. Maybe you'd grant him a couple of minutes more of your time.

Rafa's eyes skirted away from you, and he nervously cleared his throat before he continued, "Uhm... not that it matters but did you - did you ever tell him about what happened between us?"

"My dad? No..." you shook your head with a sad sigh, "he loved you like his own son, and I didn't want to break his heart. So I just told him that we couldn't make the whole long distance-thing work."

"Oh, right... Thanks," Rafa nodded.

"I didn't do it for you."

"Still... I'm glad he didn't get to know that side of me. I'm not so sure he would've liked me if he'd known the truth about how I broke his daughter's heart."

"I'm not so sure either..."

"I - I hated myself after, you know," He looked over at you with a pained expression after a couple of seconds of silence, "I have never regretted anything more in my entire life."

"What? Not going to the funeral?"

"No. You know... What I did..." he said sheepishly.

"Oh..."

"The minute I woke up I - I wanted to undo everything," he looked at you pleadingly, "I felt so fucking terrible. Still do. I can't even think about it without wanting to stab myself. It is without a doubt the worst thing I have ever done, and I am so sorry for the pain it caused you," he said softly, "please understand that I didn't do it because I didn't love you. It wasn't because you weren't enough or something like that. You were perfect to me. I take full responsibility for the fuck-up, and I am so, so horribly fucking sorry!"

"Rafa, it's..." you gulped, the words somehow stuck in your throat. You were having a hard time acting as if his words meant nothing to you.

He carefully put his hand on top of yours before he continued, "do you think we would've been able to work around the long distance if I hadn't...?"

"Please don't..." you whispered and sent him a soft yet warning look, "I don't want to talk about what might've been."

"No, no of course not..." he nodded quietly, "I just - I can't believe it's been three years... Fuck baby I've missed you so bad," he carefully moved his thumb over the back of your hand and searched your face with furrowed eyebrows, "You have no idea of the relief I felt when I finally saw you today," he said quietly.

"Don't do this..." you closed your eyes and whispered.

Rafa continued as if he hadn't heard you, "I know we didn't work out the way neither of us pictured it but that doesn't mean you weren't the best thing that's ever happened to me..." he sounded desperate, and you couldn't look at him. The words he was saying was making you want to fall into his arms, "...I never should've let you go."

"Rafa," you sighed and summoned all your strength and looked into his glossy eyes, "you didn't let me go," your voice barely a whisper, "I broke up with you."

"I know, I know," his voice was oozing with pain, "but I hope you realise that I would've done everything to win you back. I would've come back to California if you'd only asked me to. Fuck the record deal."

"There was a reason why I didn't ask you to come back," you shot him a glance in warning, "you know that."

"Still, I should have done... something."

"You did exactly what I asked of you."

"Yeah... I stayed the fuck away from you," he mumbled. You could tell that he was replaying your last tearful conversation in his mind before he heaved a big gulp of air and glanced over at you with a valiant look in his eyes, "but I've come back to remind you who I really am."

"You don't have to remind me of anything... I remember who you were. What we had."

"Then let me be that guy for you again," he looked at you pleadingly.

"What's the point when you're still 3,000 miles away?" You sighed, "It's not as if we'll happen upon each other at the supermarket and go out for spontaneous coffees."

"Could be," he said with a small shrug, "I - uh - I'm moving back," he nervously ran his fingers through his short hair, "I want to be close to Sofía and the baby - and you."

"You're coming home?" You gulped. You couldn't believe him. Was this a good thing?

"Yes," he breathed, "And I want to try things out with you again. Please give me another chance..." his fingers moved from your hand to your knee. You briefly considered his words while you felt his thumb caress you through the green fabric of your dress. Right now, you were fighting hard to not give in to his embrace and the familiar set of lips in front of you, but you weren't sure how you'd feel about it come morning, so you remained poised.

He sensed your hesitation, however, and carefully put his forehead to yours "come on, baby," he said quietly and softly kissed your cheek, his lips warm against your skin.

"I don't know," you gulped as you involuntarily closed your eyes and breathed him in.

"It's okay," he said with whispered words, the stubble on his chin rough against your cheekbone, "you don't have to give me an answer right away," he gently kissed your jawline while his hand travelled from your kneecap to your fingertips, clearly desperate to remind you of what you could have back if you only agreed to let him in again.

"Rafa, I don't know," you said quietly although it was becoming harder and harder to remain steadfast and ignore his burning lips on your skin.

"Just consider it," he kissed the corner of your mouth, "I'll crawl. I'll beg," he whispered and pursed his lips against yours, "I'll do anything," he moved his body closer to yours, "just consider it," he whispered and placed a particularly gentle kiss to your already buzzing lips, "please baby."

You couldn't help yourself any longer and you involuntarily twitched your lips against his before you felt yourself being completely engulfed by him. The passionate kiss you shared was soft and bittersweet, reminding both of you of what had been.

His hands were caressing your neck and hairline and he hummed into your mouth as he savoured the feeling of finally having you kiss him back. "Fuck I've missed this," he gulped when he broke away and put his forehead to yours, his hand still on your cheek, "does this mean you'll at least consider it?"

"I'm still angry with you," you whispered without really answering his question.

"I know, love..." he caressed your cheek, "I was stupid," he searched your face, "it was a stupid mistake."

"Don't reduce it to a stupid mistake, Rafa," you whispered.

"Poor choice of words," he mumbled, "what I mean to say is that I hope you can forgive it," he placed a soft kiss to your jawline, "- forgive me."

"Even if I did forgive you, how do you expect me to ever trust you again?" You said quietly, and you knew that you couldn't dance around the elephant in the room any longer. "Rafa you had another girl's lips wrapped around your dick not even twenty-four hours after crying in my arms at the airport," you said with a heavy heart and watched him cringe his face at the harsh truth, "twenty-four after you'd sworn you'd do anything to make our relationship work despite the distance."

Rafa was still wincing when he spoke, "not that it's any excuse at all but I was exhausted and drunk and heartbroken," he croaked, "I had just left the love of my life behind in California... and this other girl was suddenly there and she got me high as balls and she-" he sighed without finishing his own sentence, "trust me when I say that it was the worst night of my life," he closed his eyes in a sad attempt at holding the tears at bay.

"Well at least you got a nice blowjob out of it." You smiled humourlessly, "I just wound up with all the lies you threw in my face."

"I never lied to you..." he mumbled, "I came clean as soon as you confronted me."

"How big of you!" you scoffed.

"Baby... I didn't tell you because I was so embarrassed," he gulped, the tears now evident under his green irises, "I wanted to throw myself off a cliff! I knew that if I told you, it would be the definite end of us," he looked at you with huge, bloodshot eyes, "I couldn't do that."

"I need you to understand that the worst part of it wasn't that you cheated on me. The worst part was that you pretended that nothing had happened at all," you couldn't tell whether the tears you felt in the corners of your eyes were from being angry or sad, "Imagine how dumb I felt when Diggs finally broke down and told me what you'd done," you said and Rafa suddenly couldn't hold back the tears any longer either.

"I wanted to tell you. Trust me, I wanted to," he sobbed.

"You had three weeks to say something to me for fuck's sake!"

"I'm so sorry," he whimpered.

"We facetimed every night for three weeks and you didn't say anything! You made a complete fool of me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" his eyes fixed at his own feet.

"Rafa, look at me!" you said in a harsh tone of voice.

Immediately, his red eyes found yours. He looked as ashamed of himself as he possibly could, "I was a coward," he whimpered, "-and I knew didn't deserve you."

"Then what makes you think you deserve me now?" You said coldly.

"I have spent the last three years trying to forget about you and what happened but no matter what I do, you still linger in the back of my mind. Even after all this time you're the only one I can ever see myself with. I always return to you. On sleepless nights, you're dancing on the back of my eyelids. I see you in other girls when I pass them by on the street. You're in all my poetry. All my songs. I think about you constantly. Maybe I don't deserve you but I at least had to try."

"Rafa you broke my heart," you looked him dead in the eye and he visibly gulped, "you betrayed my trust and you did it in the most despicable way I could ever imagine. It's been three years and I still cannot believe that you of all people would do that to me. You were my ride or die."

"I can still be that," he said desperately, clinging on to the last bit of hope he had in him, "I'm still that guy! The guy who cheated on you that wasn't me! I wasn't myself! I'm aware of the agony it caused, and trust me: I've learned from my mistakes," he looked at you resolutely before he whispered, "I'm still your ride or die."

His words made your stomach hurt and you felt the heat rise throughout your body as your throat clenched tightly together. You felt suffocated and stood up from the bench so fast that black spots distorted your vision. "I can't do this!" you said desperately, "it's too much!"

"Okay," he gulped, looking up at you with desperation written across his face.

"I have to go back to the party. Nat expects me to be there for her."

"Alright," he gulped. He was having a hard time concealing his obvious disappointment.

"Don't look at me like that!" you whimpered, "what did you expect? That you could shed a few tears and everything would be alright again?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then don't look so fucking disappointed! You're making me feel like the bad guy and I haven't even done anything!"

"I know," he gulped.

"Yet you still think a drunk conversation erases everything? That I will take you back just because you're feeling sorry? You obviously don't realise the damage you caused."

"Then tell me!" He too stood up from his seat, "I want to make things alright again," he pleaded.

"I don't need you to make things alright again! I was doing just fine before you showed up!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," he sheepishly picked at his own elbow, "I just thought that maybe you felt the same way about me."

"I don't want you back!" You said roughly.

As soon as the harsh words had escaped your lips, you could see the heartbreak on his face; his cheeks paled, his lips quivered, a single tear left his right eye as he looked away. He ran his hand over the corners of his mouth, unable to look directly at you, "right," he said as a fresh set of tears formed in his eyes, "I'm sorry... I - uh - I had to try,” he sobbed although he was fighting to hold his voice steady, “I - uhm - I don't know what to say…”

"Don't say anything..."

"...so this is it?" His eyes found yours, "...for good?"

You nodded slowly but didn't say anything.

You watched how he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly without any words escaping him. He looked flustered, panicked almost when you turned around and stepped away from him. You could hear him panic-shift around behind you but he still didn't talk. He had probably expected you to take him back with open arms - anything but this!

Good. He deserved to fry a little.

And maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Just maybe.

#Rafael Casal #rafael casal x reader #Daveed Diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal fanfiction #rafael casal imagine #Bay boys

117 notes · View notes

eirist · 3 years

Text

In the Heat of the Moment

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: For Day 3—Nami’s Day—of the ZoNa Days event (at @zonamievents). I’m already late but still posting it. It’s unfair if it’s only Zoro who gets an entry.

In the Heat of the Moment is by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. I still have The Umbrella playlist to thank for being such a good company.

Summary: "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

The rain hadn’t let up from the moment it began to pour down.

Which should not have been a problem in the first place… the Straw Hats have their very own weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire after all.

If only said weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire didn't get distracted, arguing with a certain green-haired swordsman.

"This is your fault!" Nami complained, rubbing her arms with her hands in a poor attempt to keep the emerging chill away.

Somehow satisfied, she folded her arms across her chest as she sulkily glared at the rain which has now completely turned into a steady downpour.

Luckily she was able to pull the man with her towards an alcove in the town's wall before they got drenched. It was an uncomfortable fit, as they were almost pressed to each other, but it'll do.

Zoro was snarling beside her. "This rain is MY fault?" He huffed. "Right! It's my fault coz I absolutely can make it rain on a whim!"

Nami turned sharply towards him, glaring daggers. "If you hadn't gotten lost—"

"I DON'T GET LOST!"

"—like the idiot that you are," she continued ignoring Zoro's outburst, deliberately raising her tone and effectively drowning his retort with her shrill voice. "Then we wouldn't be stuck in here ZORO!" Her voice jumped another octave when she said his name. "In. HERE!" She repeated the words, making sure to emphasize them and hoping to drill it straight into his thick, dumb skull.

"Tch! Then you shouldn't have followed me!" The former bounty hunter groused.

"Besides, aren't you supposed to be good at predicting the weather?" He commented sardonically. "Shouldn't you have known that it’s going to rain today?"

Nami gaped at him disbelievingly. And heat rose to her cheeks.

She gave his shin a good kick for that.

"Ite!"

"I know that!" Nami practically shrieked at him. "That's why I followed you here to tell you about it! Is this the thanks I get from making sure you don't get your dumb self lost in this island while a storm is brewing?!"

"Again woman, I DON'T GET LOST!" Not the one to be deterred, Zoro raised his own voice to match hers. "And damn it! Stop kicking me!"

"Bullshit!" The ever-feisty navigator exclaimed. "That a load of crap and you know it!"

She angrily poked his chest with her finger. "If I leave you to your own devices... We. Would. Never. Find. You!" She punctuated each word with a prod on his torso. As if that would actually make the idea sink unto him. "I don't want Luffy and Chopper whining about how you are lost and that we should find you!

Zoro grabbed her hand to stop her from poking a hole in him. Grasping it firmly he all but shouted back at her. "I will be fine! I will find my way back to the Sunny!"

“Hah! Fat chance of that happening!”

They were almost nose to nose by this time; all the while scowling at each other, both waiting for the other to back down.

Now only the sound of the rain falling heavily down the soaked earth can be heard as they continued their stare off. Along with the sharp intake of breaths coming from the two of them because honestly, their shouting matches can be quite arduous.

As the glowering continued; Zoro thought he caught a glint, a spark from behind Nami's eyes before those warm brown orbs widened.

In what could only be a realization that their current position is leaning towards… precarious. It was also not helping that his own eye had darted all over her face, taking in the flush on her cheeks. Despite it coming from indignation, she still looks...

... pretty.

He almost choked at his thoughts. When did he turn into that shit cook?

Zoro inhaled sharply and realized what a wrong move that was. He caught a whiff of Nami’s signature scent. Sweet with an undertone of zestiness that reminds him of her mikan fruits at their peak of ripeness—that certain moment that makes you want to steal one so you can taste them...

The color on her face deepened and Zoro wasn't sure if it was because she was getting angrier and angrier by the minute.

Or... If it was because she saw that his stare lingered for more than a second or two at her lips. "Screw this!" He grunted, instantly averting his gaze. He felt his face heating up and to get out of their rather 'awkward' situation, he immediately resorted to his favorite defense mechanism whenever he faces off against this orange-haired devil incarnate.

Losing his temper on her.

"You are not my keeper woman!" He snapped at her before immediately stepping out of their sanctuary and into the rain.

That made Nami snap to attention. "Hey!"

Without another word Zoro turn around and started walking away from her despite the torrential rain.

WALKING. AWAY. FROM. HER.

While it’s raining cats and dogs.

"Zorooo!!!" He heard Nami screeched his name, horrified that he would actually leave her alone. There was no way he was getting back in there with her. Not when it occurred to him that he was only a second away from grabbing her...

...and kissing her.

He walked in faster strides when she called him again. He had to get away from her. He needed to get away from her.

Far away.

Because honestly she was driving him crazy lately with all these thoughts of wanting to kiss her surfacing every moment whenever he was with her.

And who knows what the repercussions are? This is Nami they're talking about. She would probably sic ero-cook and even Luffy if he dared to even try. Or rat him out to either Robin or Usopp or both.

Or charge him more than what his current bounty is.

He winced at that.

For now he needed to get away and calm himself so he can reflect...

There was no warning as something collided at his back, almost making him stumble down the wet ground.

Did someone just attack him?

But the presence wasn't threatening, even if its arms were wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, throttling him.

"YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE ME ALONE THERE RORONOA ZORO!" Nami deliberately yelled at his ear, probably making his ear drum shatter and rendering him forever deaf. In a split second the Supernova realized that Nami… had jumped him.

"Hey! Get off witch!"

"No!" "Get off!" "I said no!"

"Get off now or I'll--"

Her hold around his neck tightened. "Or you'll what?" Nami hissed right in his ear in a tone so dangerously low that an actual chill ran down Zoro's spine. He gave her arm a light slap, a silent gesture to loosen her hold because she was cutting off his air. When she didn't relent, he effortlessly bounced her up his back.

With a squeak of surprise, her arms slackened and he was able to finally draw in some air.

Nami’s hands grabbed at his shirt in an attempt to prevent herself from slipping from his back. Zoro tried to shake her off him. But the cat burglar swiftly clung onto him by locking her legs around his waist.

His remaining eye widened at that.

"Nami!" "Stop trying to shake me off Zoro!" Nami protested as she held on to him tightly. Her knee knocked against his katanas and he scowled. "Then stop strangling me damn it!" "You deserve it you ass! Leaving me alone like that! Wait until the others hear about this you brute!" Zoro muttered an expletive under his breath. Nami is a real witch!

He can feel her sliding down his back again. She was having a hard time clinging onto him because his shirt and her arms and legs were all wet from the rain water.

"I'm charging you for all these Zoro!" She muttered against his ear, her breath hot against his skin… a stark contrast from the cold rain water falling down on them. "The hell you are!" He managed to retort. She was speaking from his blind side and even as he tilted his head, he cannot see her face or her expression.

The next thing he knew… her fist had descended on his head.

“The hell! Why did you hit me?!”

“Because you are a moron.”

“That’s it get off me!”

“No!!”

They continued struggling against each other, right in the middle of the rain that was soaking them to the bone.

And Zoro realized then and there that Nami was quite nimble. She had quickly managed to change her position from his back to his side with her legs still locked around him.

He really didn't know what to do with that information, except it's going to be really handy once he gets the chance to...

Fuck! She had hit him on the head with her fist again. That’s twice already. Why are her punches hurting him so much? Was it clad in haki?? "Argh! Nami stop it!" He tilted his head towards her so he can growl and glare at her all at the same time.

She just gave him a haughty serves-you-right grin.

In retaliation he bounced her against him again.

Which was a wrong move. Because all it did was rubbed her breasts against him and press her closer to him.

It was a good thing the rain was drowning them. Though it did made her yelp in surprise. He’s good with that.

"Argh! Stay still Zoro! I swear if you drop me down I'm going to—"

“To what?” His steely eye met hers. This time it was his turn to challenge her.

Nami’s hold around his neck tightened, probably because her grip on him was slipping again because she was just as wet as he is and also because she still wants to choke the shit out of him for leaving her alone earlier.

She lifted her chin slightly so she could gaze back at him even as the rain water continued trickling down her face.

Was it just him or Nami’s quite comfortable where she is right now?

He knew she was trying to give him the evil eye. But it was hard to do that when the droplets of rain keep clinging to her lashes and she had to blink them away in a manner that affects him greatly.

And there was it… that familiar glint, that spark he saw when they were back in the alcove taking shelter from this rain.

“Look Zoro,” she finally sighed. “I just wanted to make sure you will come back to the Sunny in one piece and not get stranded in this weather."

Zoro blinked. He was not expecting that.

Then his face broke into a smirk. "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

“Y-y-ou!” She stammered.

He grinned at her as she sputtered, her face turn absolutely and adorably red.

To think, he actually high-tailed it out of there earlier with his tail between his legs all because he can't face the realization that he wanted this woman.

But there was no denying it now. Amidst this rain it was very clear. That was all he needed.

He finally decided to take a chance instead of running away from it like a coward.

He tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. "You can punch me or charge me later Nami," was all he said before he pressed his lips on hers.

Her body jerked in surprised. His arm instantly wrapped around her waist to secure her as one of her hands grasp at his shirt tightly.

He swore he heard and felt her murmur 'oh fuck' against his lips before she deepened their kiss.

They pulled apart slightly for air. Zoro hauled her up a little and Nami was about to lean down to for another kiss…

“A-choo!”

They looked at each other in surprise. Nami’s hand automatically covered her mouth as her face turned red again… this time for a very different reason.

“Ehem!”

They both turn their heads towards the sound and saw an elderly man standing a few feet away from them under an umbrella.

He was shaking his head as he looked at them.

“You youngsters should just get a room you know. You risk getting sick doing things out here in the open that should be done privately.”

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #ZoNa Days #zonamievents #zonamieventstumblr #roronoa zoro #nami

59 notes · View notes

lovetorn · 3 years

Text

Life Was A Willow [Part 3]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right? Not anymore.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings for Part 3: swearing & cute fkn shit

A/N: the final part, i'm weak :,) anyways, enough sap, i hope you guys enjoyed this series as much as i did writing it. i've been working on it for a long ass time and it's finally finished. thank you for everything, the feedback etc. it means so so much !! i hope you guys like the final part even though it’s a little rushed !!!

“Are you sure this is a good way to do it?” Dream asks, nearly running into Y/n as he turns around. “I don’t want to force this idea on people, they won’t like it.”

The witch nods, pushing the flyers into his chest. “We’ve talked about this Dream; we’re not shoving it down their throats. They can choose how to act when they see the posters.”

Dream grabs onto the papers as Y/n backs away, spinning to collect her sunhat and basket. “Let’s go!”

Making their way from the abandoned cottage, which they made their own little space, they walk towards the castle and small surrounding village. Y/n and Dream walk closer than usual, their hands brushing lightly. Birds chirp and fly around them, their singing lifting the spirits of the pair that stroll below them.

“Have you told Sapnap yet?”

Dream rolls his eyes and sighs deeply at the mention of his best friend. “No. I know how he gets with shit like this, so, I guess he’ll have to wait like the rest of the kingdom.” Y/n nods silently in reply and looks up at the blue skies.

“What do you think the moon is thinking right now?” Her question confuses Dream. “In relation to what we’re doing, of course.”

“I’d imagine he’s happy that we’re doing it—we’re making peace, aren’t we?” His answer pleases Y/n as he hoped it would. He hasn’t really thought about it before.

“I agree! I talked with him last night and he told me good things are coming.”

Dream looks at her incredulously. “You talked to the moon?”

“Of course I can. I’m a witch. What else am I supposed to do when he sits there in the sky? Ignore him?” A small smirk plays on her lips. Dream is unsure whether or not she’s messing with him but chooses to believe her, considering everything he’s learnt recently.

They walk further, nearly entering the kingdom village when a grey bunny hops onto the path and Y/n’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Honey!” Her voice is dripping with it.

Dream furrows his eyebrows when he sees she’s speaking to the rabbit. “What? You can speak to animals now?”

The rabbit’s nose twitches while Y/n approaches it, its eyes glistening in the sunshine. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you tell me any of this? It’s cool.”

Y/n shrugs. “You never ask.”

Dream squints at her, watching as she runs her hand over the animal’s soft ears. He inches closer, catching the rabbit’s eye. Its body freezes at the sight of a human and Y/n coos, it’s okay, he’s my friend. Dream tilts his head and squats next to Y/n, reaching his hand out for her to take. Her fingers are gentle when she holds it, pulling him closer so he can pat the bunny. Its fur is softer than he thought and he melts when it stares at him with its big eyes. Awww, Dream breathes. He feels Y/n’s gaze on him before he blushes.

“Dream—”

Suddenly, the tranquil moment is cut with the kingdom bell and the bunny rushes away, ducking into a line of bushes. The pair jump at the sharp noise, Dream’s hand still sits softly in Y/n’s. He wonders what she wanted to say.

“We should go.” She whispers and Dream nods once, but neither one moves to leave. The sun beats down on his neck and Y/n’s hat sits sideways on her head, probably from when she ran towards the rabbit. Dream blinks and decides to leave it, she looks cute.

“Yeah, uh, let’s go.”

The walk through the gates goes smoothly, nobody suspects a witch amongst them as they walk in the crowd.

“Here.” Y/n points at a wooden lamp-post and Dream agrees. The first poster goes up and while they walk away, they hear mumbling from behind them. Craning his neck back, Dream sees people surrounding the poster already; some nod and some curse, but overall, it looks positive.

He leans down to Y/n’s ear. “I think people are going to show up.”

His breath on her ear and the rasp of his voice causes a shiver to go down Y/n’s spine. She turns her head to look at him and sees how close he is, and smiles. She hopes so.

—

“Citizens of Grogington, the war between magic kind and humans has gone on for far too long! Today, we will be presenting the idea of a truce between the two groups.”

Turns out, the entire kingdom showed up for Y/n and Dream’s proposal. The pair stand on a low podium in front of the castle and stare out into the sea of people. Dream spots Sapnap in the middle of the crowd, with the rest of the hunters, and could almost cry when he sees him smile and throw a thumbs up. Y/n stands next to him, her hand dangerously close to his. Her gaze drops to Wilbur who stands in the front row with Niki, despite the complaints from many people behind him—she nearly laughs at the height difference between him and the humans. But, Y/n feels a twinge of guilt when she watches him smile at her before he encourages her to continue.

The presentation continues and nobody leaves and everybody watches with intent. Y/n throws a glance at Dream while he’s explaining the truce and its outcomes. Her heart leaps into her throat when he notices and continues to turn his head to look at her too.

Although there will be a few people against the idea, the majority of the kingdom is keen on peace and that’s all they need to begin the revolution.

After the proposal, Dream helps Y/n off of the podium, her hand placed gently in his. “Dream!”

At the sound of his name, his real name, Dream smiles. George. There’s a patter of footsteps and then Dream is being jumped on by the Prince. Y/n giggles as she watches Dream wrap his arms around his best friend. “I can’t believe you would do this! You're crazy!”

Dream’s laugh is loud and Y/n wishes she could listen to it all day. Dream puts George’s feet back on the ground before he turns to her. “George, this is Y/n.”

Mischief swirls in the Prince’s eyes as his gaze lands on the witch. “Oh, I know. You’ve told me everything about her: the way her eyes look brighter in the moonlight and how her lips are the same colour as cherries—oomph.”

Dream darts his eyes at George, narrowly, his hand placed over his mouth. “Ha, ha, shut up!”

Y/n feels her cheeks heat up and she covers her smile with her palm. “That’s sweet.”

“That’s what he says about your laugh—stop!” George’s voice is muffled but Y/n still hears him and she gets giddy.

“Dream~” She sings. Dream’s cheeks are on fire and he swears the tips of his ears have burst into flames.

George still remains next to him. “Ok, I won’t embarrass you anymore, big man. You can remove your gross hand off my face now.”

Dream drops his arm and watches George hold his hand out for Y/n to take.

Y/n places her fingers in his and swoons when he brings her knuckles to his lips. Dream gets antsy when he notices Y/n giggle.

“Ok! That’s enough flirting, George.” Dream snatches Y/n’s hand from him and holds it by his side. George giggles from beside him.

“Dream, who doesn’t want to be kissed by the Prince?” She teases, reaching up to squeeze his cheek between her fingers. Dream rolls his eyes and swats her hand off his face.

“Dream!” Another voice interrupts them.

“Hey, Sap!” Although he’s excited to see his other best friend, Dream’s tone is wary. “What did you think of the presentation?”

Sapnap’s expression melts to one of awe. “Man, I loved it. I actually came over to apologise for everything I’ve said about it in the past and you know that I love you, and George, and I know I can be a bit of an idiot when it comes to things like this, but—” George slaps his shoulder.

“Ouch! Okay, okay. I’m sorry for being an entitled dick, and I fully support anything you want to do, Dream. You’re my best friend and I cannot let some outdated opinion be a burden to our friendship.”

Dream swears he feels his chest open up and admit the brightest light you’ve ever seen. His heart almost bursts at the sweet look on Sapnap’s face and tackles him into a hug. “Thank you, man.”

Dream unwraps his arms and sighs loudly. “Sapnap! This is Y/n, Y/n is this Sapnap.” Y/n raises her hand to wave at him, her smile beaming but mischievous.

“I know her already, she tied me to a tree,” He laughs, reaching his hand forward. Y/n giggles, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you properly and not when you’re using your cool witch powers to lift me off the ground.”

Y/n nods, her smile still shining. Dream’s heart rate skips as he looks at her. Her face is like the sun. He could stare at her all day and not care about the risk of going blind.

“Yes, Snapmap. I can call you that now, we’re friends!”

The group collectively laugh and they bid goodbye to George and Sapnap. Y/n turns to Dream. “I’m so happy they’re on board with it.”

“Of course George would be. I’m a little surprised about Sapnap, but, nonetheless, I’m ecstatic.”

Y/n takes his hands and brings them up to her mouth. “I’m so happy, Dream.” She places soft kisses on his fingers and then his knuckles. He watches in awe as she does so.

“Hey, Y/n!” Their moment is cut short as Dream twists to see a tall man and a girl walking towards them.

“Wil! Niki!” She releases Dream’s hands and circles around him to embrace the pair in a hug. “Did you like it?”

Her voice wavers slightly and Dream picks it up. Niki nods excitedly. “Yes! Oh my gods, Y/n!”

Niki’s enthusiasm rubs off on Y/n and she almost forgets Wilbur is standing next to her, he’s so silent. She’s nervous about his response.

Looking up at Wilbur, Y/n sees a soft smile on his cheeks. He pulls her into a hug immediately and Y/n wants to cry. “Thank you.” He whispers.

“You’re welcome.” She murmurs into his ear, and his grip tightens around her. Y/n knows why he’s thanking her but doesn’t elaborate to the others when they pull apart.

“We just wanted to come to say hello before we went back home,” Niki says, raising her hand to wave at Dream.

“Oh! This is Dream,” Y/n motions towards him and Wilbur nods once in greeting. “He did most of this, you should be thanking him. I was simply there to observe.”

And although the other two don’t read deeply into the reply, Dream’s eyes cast down to Y/n at her suggestive comment. The pairs bid goodbye to each other and then Y/n spins back to him again.

“Observing, hm?”

A cheeky grin splits her face into two.

—

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Y/n grasps Dream’s hand and stares up at the large double doors that lead to the Great hall in the castle. Placing his other hand on the door, Dream pushes. The doors swing open and on the other side of the room sits the King. The man looks large in his throne, his dark hair long and crown placed lopsided on his head.

The pair bow before him and then return to their usual heights. The King squints at them and then a smile breaks out. “Dream!”

The blonde lets out a laugh. “Good morning, your Highness.”

“Oh, stop with the titles. I’m James to you, young man.” The King waves his hand around. Dream exhales and steps closer, his hand coming loose from Y/n’s.

“I—We called this meeting to ask for your approval for the possible truce between humans and magical kind,” Dream appeals, holding his breath when he finishes. The King turns his chin up.

“And what has brought this on, Dream?” Dream sighs deeply and takes another step forward.

“I have recently learnt about some of my family history and it has changed my view. My views now pose the same as George’s.” He says apprehensively, fidgeting with his fingers. Y/n stands behind him, chewing on her lip in silence, confused about his recent learning. The King squints again, his glare hard.

“And why do you believe this is a good idea? Hm? What benefits will this bring the kingdom?” He seethes and Y/n screws her eyes shut. She wants to leave, she shouldn’t even be in the castle.

Dream fumbles his words before the witch speaks up. “Your Highness, I believe that peace between your kind and mine will—”

“You brought a witch into my castle?” The King yells incredulously. Dream winces and turns to look at Y/n. But he is surprised when he sees her with a neutral expression.

“Yes, he did. Because he knows that you won’t listen to a human on issues that are only a threat to you. Did you see the citizens of this kingdom when we proposed the idea to them? They were ecstatic, to say the least—”

“Enough. Dream, please enlighten me on the benefits, I’ve been waiting far too long.”

Dream glances at Y/n again and faces the King. He must propose points that appeal to him. “James, don’t you see? A truce between the kinds will be economically beneficial since you won’t have to pay for services that are only implemented to harm magical kinds, like hunters. And the wellbeing of the Kingdom will enhance greatly from the lifted stress of not having to worry about potential dangers—”

“Yes, but those potential dangers will now be inside the Kingdom walls.”

“I understand, James, but if there is peace, then those dangers won’t be a threat anymore.”

“Yes. All we want is peace.” Y/n says, her voice soft from where she stands. Dream steps backwards and reaches back for Y/n’s hand.

King James brings his hand up to rub his chin, his glare is still cold on Y/n. “Kids like you will be the death of me. Even my own son will give me a heart attack before I’m 50.”

Dream smiles. “So, that’s a yes?” The King sighs and drops his gaze to the floor.

“I guess it is. But, if there is any harm placed on my people, there will be bloodshed. Understood?”

Y/n looks up at Dream as they both grin. He looks down at her and their eyes shine with joy and tears.

“Thank you, Sir. I will make you proud.” Dream exclaims, his voice full of excitement and appreciation.

“You always make me proud, son.” The King smiles warmly at Dream before he nods. “Now, go, you have a Kingdom to celebrate with.”

The village roars with cheerful shouts and whistles. As cliche as it is, it's a perfect summer’s day, and it’s not too hot. Magical-kind had been wary at first, entering the kingdom grounds, but soon warmed up when the humans would throw arms over their shoulders and laugh with them.

“Let me down, you fucking crazy duck! Is that what you are? A fucking duck?” A whining voice yells, although there’s a twinge of joy in his words. Quackity has a cheeky smile on his face as he flicks his hand around, messing with some of the younger humans. One of them, named Tommy, has quite the mouth on him, which earns him up in the air, upside down.

His friend, Tubbo laughs from beside the wizard in question. Karl sits behind them, a spell-book in his lap, shaking his head when Tommy’s feet finally land on the ground. “Longer!”

“No~!”

“Tommy! Yes! You’re annoying, so this is what you get!”

The young boy groans again when he feels his body lift off the floor.

The village is alive and full of flashy, bright colours, but, upon the top of the hill in the distance, sits a couple.

The juice from the strawberry dribbles slowly down Dream’s chin. His cheeks blush as Y/n giggles and she reaches her hand out to catch the juice with her thumb, her cheeks heating up too.

The pair had decided their first date would be a picnic on the grass hill that overlooks the kingdom instead of attending the festival. Y/n brought a red and white checkered blanket and a vanilla cake, and Dream brought a basket of snacks and other desserts from the Castle. He had tried convincing Y/n that he didn’t overpack and that he ‘was just a hungry boy’, to which Y/n laughed and told him to shut up.

On their journey there, Dream had pulled a bunch of baby’s breath flowers from the basket he was carrying and shoved them in Y/n’s hand. The action made the witch giggle as she watched him blush. “Thank you, Dream. I love them.” She had said, smiling at him from behind the flowers—the sight made Dream’s heart leap.

Upon arrival, they set up their spot and sat down amongst the ankle-high grass and sparse wildflowers. The sun was light on their skin and the wind blew softly as the pair laid down and watched the clouds pass whilst talking about everything and nothing; Y/n would point out a cloud and say it looked like a goose, and Dream would disagree and say it was shaped like a cabbage, and then they would argue about how the other was wrong and vice versa for a while. They spoke of their childhoods and eventually, Y/n would bring out a book from who knows where and start reading to Dream—who was more than happy to listen to her talk for hours. The two moved from opposite sides of the blanket to right next to each other, Dream’s head on Y/n’s shoulder as she read.

Now, as late morning turns to late noon, the bright blue sky swirls into a fusion of pinks and oranges and then morphs into indigo as the sun dips beyond the horizon—a perfect end to a perfect date.

Dream drops his head to the floor in an attempt to hide his red face. The strawberry juice from Dream’s lips now stains Y/n’s thumb as she moves her hand to cup his cheek, and watches his eyes flutter closed. She traces his scar lightly and her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Y/n,” Dream whispers into the wind. Y/n almost doesn’t catch it. “You know how I told you I nearly didn’t make it when I was born.”

Y/n nods and remains silent as a sign for him to continue. “It wasn’t a miracle at all.”

“What do you mean?” She asks him, her voice soft too.

“My father was a wizard,” The news startles Y/n; she wasn’t expecting that. “And my mother told me that he died because he was defending us from magic, not that he was killed for having magic.”

“Dream…”

“So I just assumed that magic was bad because it killed my father—and I guess in a sense, it did, but not in the way I thought.” Y/n is speechless as she listens to Dream talk, although his voice remains just above a whisper the entire time.

“So that’s why you want the truce? So other children don’t lose a parent like you did?” Dream nods, an outline of a smile gracing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Dream, look at me,” She whispers. Dream lifts his head slightly to meet her eye, his enchanting eyes reflecting the orange and pink fire in the sky. She runs her hands down his neck and down to his chest.

“Dream,” Y/n mumbles again, her nose brushing Dream’s lightly. His heart beats quickly and he hopes she can’t feel it through his white buttoned shirt where her hands lay. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Y/n tilts her chin up in an attempt to meet Dream’s mouth. He laughs breathlessly as their lips bump together, the kiss not really being a kiss yet.

“Just kiss me.” He teases, leaning further back.

Y/n sighs, her eyes closing in annoyance at his antics. “Dream, seriously. I want to kiss you.”

And soon their lips are meeting in a soft pash. There are no fireworks, no goosebumps; just airy headaches and the feeling of finally relieving the ever-growing anticipation of revelling in each other. Y/n smiles, her teeth clanging with Dream’s. He laughs again, pulling her body flush against his.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to make you mine,” He mumbles against her lips.

Y/n visibly cringes. “Gross.”

Dream giggles at her reaction and pushes his lips back onto hers. Y/n pulls away abruptly.

“Wait, does that mean you can do magic?” She asks, her eyes wide with wonder and curiosity.

Dream shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve never tried, but I’m sure if I got the right training from an amazing, gorgeous, intelligent teacher, maybe I could learn.”

Y/n scrunches her nose up and swats his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Dream laughs shortly before he dips his head back down to her lips, his knuckles brushing her cheek lightly. The wind around them picks up slightly and Y/n feels static on her skin before she opens her eyes, turning her head to see glitter falling from Dream’s fingers. “Oh my god.”

Feedback is always appreciated xx

#life was a willow fic #lwaw #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken imagines #dream x reader #dream imagine #dream imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dream smp imagines #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #dream x fem!reader

243 notes · View notes

naralanis · 3 years

Text

little bumps in the road (pt. 10)

Previously on LBitR...

“Calm down,” Lena whispers, even though she’s having trouble doing exactly that at the sight of the empty bench where she had left Kara waiting not even an hour ago.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Alex hisses; the muzzle of her gun dis rather painfully on her back, and Lena would really like to step away from it, but the agent has her arm locked in a vice grip. “Where the hell is she, Lena? She was here when I followed you in!”

“Walk with me,” Lena says, quickly scanning the area--they’re standing in a stiff, unnatural way, and the last thing she wants is to draw any attention, especially when they’re both wearing stolen LuthorCorp lab coats right outside the building. She takes one tentative step away, hooking her arm around Alex’s as if they were just friends walking down the street arm-in-arm.

Thankfully, Alex understands Lena’s not-so-subtle hint faster than Kara ever could; her image-induced expression relaxes into a smile that barely looks forced, and her grip of Lena’s arm, though still tight and borderline painful, shifts so that it appears more casual.

“Is there any way you could have been followed?” Lena asks, subtly looking around them, noting that Alex is doing the same.

“That’s always a possibility,” Alex admits, sounding both panicked and defeated at once. “But I was very careful.”

“OK, let’s not panic yet,” Lena tells both Alex and herself. “Kara and I made plans to rendezvous back at the motel if I was gone too long or if anything happened.”

Alex gives her a look--it’s weird to have a patented Alex-Danvers-look-of-disapproval coming from a stranger’s face. “You weren’t gone for long, though.” She doesn’t voice the alternative.

Unthinkably, Lena reaches out and gently pats the hand on her arm. She means for it to be reassuring--it’s the kind of thing she would do for Kara--the kind of thing she has been doing for Kara over the last couple of weeks, but Alex looks just as puzzled by the action as Lena is.

She removes her hand and clears her throat. “Still, our best bet is the motel. Did you drive here?”

Alex nods. “Great,” Lena continues, mind already working a mile a minute. “Kara probably took the bus back--we didn’t want the car to be seen downtown,” she explains, and Alex lets out an undignified snort.

“That’s remarkably sensible of you,” she quips sarcastically. Lena ignores her.

“What I’m saying is, if you drove here and we take your vehicle, we may beat Kara to the motel, or get there shortly after her. It’s one hour from LuthorCorp to the motel by bus--she’ll switch routes at least twice on the way.”

Alex looks impressed despite herself. “And if she doesn’t show, what then, genius?” she challenges, lips pursed.

Lena breathes out steadily, calmly. “She will,” she says with as much conviction as she can possibly muster in her tone, because the alternative is simply unthinkable.

Alex smacks her lips, slowing her walk as she considers their limited options. “Fine,” she finally concedes, dragging Lena down an alleyway.

They dispose of their lab coats in a trashcan in that same alley, and Alex practically hauls Lena towards a secluded spot behind down another alley a few blocks away.

“You better hold on,” she says, removing a few strategically placed cardboard boxes to reveal a sleek black motorcycle, discreetly parked behind a dumpster. “I did not bring an extra helmet.”

Lena does hold on, mainly because Alex weaves and cuts through traffic like an absolute manic as she follows the directions Lena has to practically shout in her ear as they go. She knows Alex is desperate to find Kara and make sure she’s OK, but Lena also wishes she would ease off the gas a little; she’s got enough to be afraid of at the moment.

She feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest when they finally reach the hotel; they’re nowhere close to the room she and Kara had checked into, but she’s already fumbling in her purse for her key card. with Alex hot on her heels.

They stumble into the room together, and Lena has to stop, has to take a second to try to stop the cold dread she immediately feels at finding it empty, exactly as they had left it this morning.

Alex begins pacing like a caged tiger immediately. “She’s not here,” she gasps, tapping at the image inducer at her temple, and then it’s Alex, really Alex, looking worried and panicked and slightly disheveled in this empty room, and now Lena is belatedly realizing it’s up to her, Supergirl’s would-be killer, to try and comfort the hero’s sister while they wait.

As if she is not on the verge of a panic attack herself.

“We knew she wouldn’t be,” she tries to reason, keeping her voice as even as she can, though she can’t stop tugging at her fingers out of sheer nervousness.

She’s doing the math in her head, thinking of the bus schedules, of which one Kara probably had gotten on and when; she’s mapping out the routes in her mind, considering the usual trip times, factoring in the average Metropolis traffic at two in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Alex takes one look at Lena’s fidgeting hands and immediately sighs, sinking into one of the beds. “Take that stupid wig off,” she barks. “Blonde you is freaking me out.”

That lets out a little chuckle, but it feels like some kind of hysteria. She takes a seat on the opposite bed, and Alex regards her quizzically.

“Kara said something similar yesterday,” she explains, carefully removing the wig and setting it on the nightstand. “That’s too bad; I really thought I was pulling it off.”

The attempt at humour falls completely flat--Lena can see it plainly in Alex’s wooden expression. “You definitely weren’t,” she deadpans. Her knee is bouncing up and down, up and down, up and down, boot tapping dully on the carpet.

It’s driving Lena insane.

“Kara will be here soon,” Lena says, still tugging at her fingers. Alex doesn’t look convinced.

“And if she doesn’t?”

Lena has no answers to that, refuses to consider the possibility.

“She will,” she says again, in an almost silent whisper, for her own comfort. “She will, she will, she will.”

Alex says nothing, only continues with her bouncing knee, keeps her gaze locked onto Lena. And Lena, Lena tries not to squirm under the agent’s scrutiny; she fidgets, she stares at the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock, steals glances at the door--she looks at anything and anywhere to avoid Alex’s gaze.

When Alex does speak again, her voice is low, but it still startles Lena enough for her to jump a little in surprise.

“What do you remember about that day, Lena?”

When Lena turns to face her, Alex’s eyes are as hard as stone. Her scowl has returned, and the way her brows are furrowed is far more telling than the cold tone of her voice. It says, plain and simple, I don’t trust you.

It takes Lena a long time to come up with an answer Alex may find even remotely satisfactory--she knows that ‘I don’t know’ that is on the tip of her tongue simply won’t cut it, even if it is the honest answer. Her memories, the few that she does have from that day, are murky and sparse, and don’t feel altogether hers.

She struggles to recall any details, searches the blurred images interred somewhere in her subconscious and tries to make sense of the tangled mess she has been left with. “Flashes,” she tries, settling for as much truth as she can muster at the moment. She swallows. “I remember... I remember Kara falling--I remember seeing her from the top floor at LuthorCorp.”

Alex raises a brow like she doesn’t fully believe her. “The top floor?” she asks, voice oddly neutral. “Not from the basement labs? You didn’t watch it from the screens?”

Lena furrows her brows, tries to poke at whatever remnants of memory she has latched on to. “No, I don’t...” she closes her eyes, sees Kara falling, riddled with green, her body limp falling past her windows as fast as a bullet. “I-I don’t think so, I was... I think I was at the top floor.”

“You were apprehended in the basement, Lena,” Alex says brusquely.

“N-no, that can’t be right,” Lena chokes out, but all she sees behind her lids is Kara’s body falling, and her mind provides the most horrifying sound effect as it hits the pavement. “That can’t be, I watched her fall, I w-watched from my window.”

Alex shakes her head. “What do you remember before the rockets?”

Lena rattles her brain with difficulty; her lungs can’t quite return to their normal rhythm with the images her mind is supplying. “Before?” she gasps, keeping her eyes shut so she doesn’t have to see, doesn’t have to wither under Alex’s unyielding disappointment and doubt.

“M-myriad, the, um, the Fortress, ah... I was there with K-kara, and--”

She’s close to hyperventilating; she can’t get the image of Kara’s body--her bloody, broken body falling, falling--out of her mind.

“The Fortress? Lena that was two weeks befo--Lena? Lena, are you OK?”

Lena can’t respond--she can’t speak, she can’t even breathe. her brain is giving her the most terrifying flashes of memories, memories that don’t feel like her own, and she’s scrambling to fill that gaps at the same time as the images come, unbidden, to her mind. Her mental boxes are teetering, swaying in their little organized, compartmentalized stacks, unbalanced, and she can’t, she can’t breathe.

“Shit,” she vaguely hears Alex say, marginally registers the agent rushing to her side, but then someone is touching her and there is another flash--it is white hot and painful in her brain, like an electric shock, and she feels someone grabbing at her shoulders, pushing her down hard, pulling, and dragging, and, and--

Lena yelps and recoils, bats away at the hands reaching for her shoulders in uncontrollable, all-consuming panic.

“HEY!”

It’s another voice, worried, coming from someone bursting through the door with force, nearly slamming it off its hinges. Lena’s only somewhat aware of Alex yelling--she sounds happy, surprised, worried, and a whole gamut of other things Lena cannot focus on, because suddenly, there’s just warmth all around her.

She’s being held, tight, tight, tight, but it isn’t restrictive--it’s the opposite, warm and comforting and it envelops her almost entirely, like a heavy blanket, muting the sounds of her own frantic heartbeat.

“Sh, Lena, it’s just me. You’re OK. I’m here, I’m here.”

It’s Kara’s voice--low in a soothing murmur, rumbling in her chest as she whispers right at Lena’s ear, and the vibrations are soft, reassuring, and tranquil, almost enough to ease Lena’s trembling.

She’s wrapped tight in Kara’s arms as her awareness returns, slowly and fuzzy. Kara’s hand rubs circles on her back, and Lena instinctively tucks her head under Kara’s chin, seeking more of her warmth. Kara is taking deep, deliberate breaths, and Lena finds herself subconsciously trying to match them at every inhale and exhale, using the pressure of the rise and fall of Kara’s chest against hers as guidance.

When the flashes cease, she dares open her eyes again. Over Kara’s shoulder, her gaze locks with Alex, who’s awkwardly standing to the side, watching them closely.

“OK,” the agent says, gaping a little. “What the fuck?”

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

<< Previous || Next >>

#oh lookie I managed to update!#nara's word vomit #supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #LBitR #fic writing #femslash #LISTEN #I promise things will be moving along #shortly #in the meantime #BUCKLE UP KIDS #my brain better come up with more plot pronto #because this is getting uuuh #unmanageable #Nara cannot write short things #let's try to cap it at 20 parts shall we

215 notes · View notes

disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

Aftershocks (1/5)

The Better Love Series

A sequel to The Rules of Engagement

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse.

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, angst, hospital stuff. This one is mild for me.

a/n: unbeta’d. Gif by @javier-pena, banner by @cassandras-nest, title card by yours truly.Takes place hours after ROE leaves off. This won’t make a lot of sense unless you’ve read Rules first.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

A deep, throbbing ache in your back drags you back to the land of the living.

Ugh.

You rub the crust from your eyes and wiggle your toes with the awkward effort that comes from heavy sleep. It’s late afternoon, the sun sinking low in the sky, falling in gentle patches over the crumpled comforter. Reality comes back to you in slow, muzzy chunks.

You’re lying in Peña’s bed. He’d ridden you hard, then tucked you in afterward, snuggled comfortably beside you while you’d drifted off.

The lazy smile dies on your lips as you remember just why Javier Peña had felt the need to throw you against the wall and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

Your apartment. A blazing fireball. Smoke and ash and rubble. Emilio’s broken body.

You choke back a sob.

Javi.

Your chest throbs as you remember how he’d looked at you, eyes shining and desperate.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

How he’d held you close, tucking you gently under his chin as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Wild sex in the hallway, gentle sex in his bed. Snuggling up together afterward. His soft confession, “I’m all in, Ears, if that’s okay with you.”

Your brain spins dizzily in an attempt to process it all. Despite all of the pain, fear, drama, and uncertainty of the past 12 hours, you can’t help feeling a profound sense of relief. Sure, you’ve lost everything you’ve ever owned, but at least you have Javi.

That thought still boggles your mind.

You roll over, kicking your feet to untangle them from the sheets. Javi’s side of the bed is long cold. Sighing, you haul yourself up on your elbow, surprised when you have to catch your breath to do so.

God, you’re more sore than you thought you’d be.

Your heart races as you stand, and you press your hand to your breast bone, feeling a little woozy. Gray spots swim in your vision, and you blink hard, forcing them away. You hadn’t realized you’d stood up so fast.

Slowly, you patter naked into the hallway, following the sound of Javi’s voice. He’s in the kitchen with his back turned to you, speaking lowly into the telephone. He’s still shirtless.

You crack a grin at the memory.

Now that you’re standing up, you’re starting to feel a little more stable. Thoughts are still fuzzy and distant, and your pulse thrums skittish in your ears, but at least you’re not going to pass out. Your chest feels weird, though, like your lungs have been scraped raw, and taking a deep breath sets something throbbing deep in your back. Your head aches like a bitch, too.

Fuck Pablo Escobar and his fucking bombs.

You snatch Javi’s green shirt off the kitchen counter, still lying half-folded where you’d dropped it this morning. Javi raises his brows at you, and you shoot him a wink as you slip into it. He’s still on the phone, talking to Messina, you think, but his eyes follow you darkly as you make your way to his bathroom in search of some pain medicine.

Climbing onto the toilet to peruse through Javi’s bathroom cabinet feels like more effort than it really ought to be. Again, your heart speeds, and you double over, suddenly panting for air.

A minute or so later, Javi finds you sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands.

“Hey,” he says, pausing as he notices your position. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern.

You look up at him. He’s all dark eyes and somber expression, watching you warily with a deeply furrowed brow. “Just a little dizzy,” you admit, hating to see him worry over you. “I was looking for a tylenol. My back is killing me.”

Javi blinks, as if the thought of keeping medicine in a medicine cabinet has never occurred to him.

“I can find you something,” he says, and somehow, you just know that means he’ll be sneaking across the landing to borrow from Connie’s stash. “But baby, are you sure I don’t need to take you to the hospital? You look a little pale.”

“I’m sure, Javi,” you answer firmly. The thought of getting dressed and leaving the apartment is absolutely abhorrent right now - you are still bone weary. You decide to offer him a compromise. “If it really bothers you, I’ll see somebody tomorrow after work.”

Javi shakes his head. “You’re not going in tomorrow, babe,” he says slowly. “I already talked to Stechner.” There’s a little bit of hesitation in his tone, like he’s wary of how you’ll react. “Once word got around about the bomb, everybody was looking for you. I didn’t mean to butt in, but I really didn’t want to wake you, either.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, almost apologetically.

In a different situation, you think you might be annoyed by his interference. But Javi is staring at you with those solemn, worried eyes, one errant curl falling across his brow, and you find that any frustration you feel is buried deep beneath exhaustion and maybe even a little gratitude. “Guess I’ll let it slide,” you tell him, cracking a small smile. “This time.”

He answers you with a tiny breath of relief and a quirk of his lips. “Good.” One long thumb massages your knuckles absently. “He’s put you on leave for the rest of the week. Says get some rest and maybe some therapy, and he’ll see you on Monday to talk logistics.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

Javi’s expression is a little darker as he agrees. “So,” he says, leaning back on his heels to pin you with an intense stare. “Doctor tomorrow?”

“Doctor tomorrow,” you promise, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “Tylenol now.”

“Bossy,” he complains, reaching up to stroke your cheek like he just can’t help touching you at every opportunity.

“Assertive,” you’re quick to correct, swallowing back a shiver. All of this soft, sweet caressing is very new.

Javi grins, a gentle, fond expression that crinkles his eyes and makes him look years younger. “Have I mentioned how good you look in my shirt?” he murmurs, meeting your lips for a slow, deep kiss that steals your breath. One hand roams up to gently cup your breast.

“You don’t have to,” you answer smugly, catching that wandering hand in a firm grip. Your heart is racing again, but for all of the wrong reasons. “Now, go raid Murphy’s medicine cabinet for me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs, shaking his head at the fact that you know him so well.

That woozy feeling redoubles just as soon as Javi shuts the door behind him. You bite your lip, counting back the hours since you’ve had anything to drink besides coffee. Even that had been a long time ago. Probably you’re just dehydrated.

You make your way to the kitchen, feeling numb and detached as you shuffle through the cabinets. Javi has a startling lack of normal drink wear, but you manage to find a nice set of crystal tumblers lurking above the sink.

Typical.

Again, climbing requires an alarming amount of effort, and something uncoils painfully in your chest as you reach over your head for a glass. You flinch, and three of the tumblers go flying, shattering on the floor with a horrendous crash.

Startled and off-balanced, you stumble to your hands and knees, heedless of the glass shards that are digging into your bare skin. Your vision is graying at the edges again, and you can’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck?” Javi’s voice is hard as he slams open the front door. “Babe?”

“Sorry,” you wheeze with the very last of the air that’s left in your lungs. Panic sets in, your body responding to the acute lack of oxygen in the only way it knows how. “I was -”

Speaking sets you coughing, and suddenly, you’re coughing so hard that you can’t stop, great, wrenching spasms that send pain racketing through your entire body.

Javi drops the bottle of pills he’s holding. They rattle against the floor. “Ridiculous woman,” he grits between clenched teeth, reaching down to haul you to his chest. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You are not fine.”

You press your fingers to your lips, one last rasping cough ripping its way out of your throat. When you pull them away, they are covered in tiny spots of blood.

Javi freezes as he sees it. “Jesus Christ.”

Your teeth are chattering, your entire body shaking. “I’m -”

“Goddammit, if you tell me you’re fine one more fucking time, Ears,” Javi growls, allowing the threat to trail off.

You shake your head. “I’m not,” you manage. Everything hurts, and words are difficult right now. Your throat is raw, and you still don’t have enough air. “I’m sorry. I was, but now I’m not.”

“Come on,” Javi’s voice is terse, worried. You have the foresight to grab his sweats from the counter before he sweeps you off your feet. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

♠

notes/confessions:

I promise, promise, promise, this is going to turn into fluff. Please don’t kill me!

Originally, Aftershocks was going to be a huge one-shot, but nah. I thought I’d try smaller chapters for once (read: chaotic jay cannot plan shit to save her life).

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my tags!

Tags: @jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh

#javier peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos netflix #pedro fanficiton #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #better love #aftershocks

279 notes · View notes

samstree · 3 years

Note

hi dear!! what about 37 for the pining prompts?? only if you feel like it 💞💞

37. "Characters cannot touch for plot reasons." Thanks for the prompt Chrysa!! Here's more empath!Jaskier!

Unfinished Story

Empath!Jaskier, 2.4k, soft geraskier, ciri has a nightmare, hurt/comfort, mentions of past violence

Part of the Empath AU

Read on AO3

Ciri’s scream pulls Geralt out of his doze.

He springs up immediately, knocking Jaskier’s arm out of the way. The bard grumbles something incoherent on the bedroll before fully waking. “G’ralt, what is… Oh, shit.”

The scream continues, Geralt’s medallion thrumming because of the chaos carried by the sound. The ember is dying but the moon provides enough light for him to see Cir in a fetal position, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her ashen-colored curls obscure the view.

Geralt half-scrambles to her side, familiar panic seizing his heart. It’s been so long since she had a nightmare this bad, so long that it’s taking him a second to react.

“Ciri.” He shakes her shoulder gently, but she flinches away. The smell of fear rolls off of her in waves. “Ciri, wake up. You are dreaming.”

The sharp wail trails off to a quieter one, but her eyes stay shut, her brows agonizingly knitted tight. Geralt tries to soothe her by stroking her hair, only to have her snatch his hand and holding onto it for dear life. He squeezes, hoping it’s a comforting gesture.

Each of Ciri’s cries sends a pang of regret in Geralt’s chest. If only he could go back in time. If only he had found her earlier, before the horrors of Nilfgaard—

“Hey, let me help.”

A hand falls to Geralt’s shoulder, and Jaskier meets his gaze in the dim light, the bleariness in his eyes completely gone.

Please, he wants to say. The word gets interrupted by the girl’s writhing.

Jaskier takes over Ciri’s hand, despite her reluctance to let go of Geralt. She clings to him during bad dreams, even when she can’t properly wake up, but the witcher knows it’s important not to touch either of them right now. The wolf medallion vibrates more as the empath works, calming her through the touch.

“It’s okay…” Geralt murmurs helplessly to the girl still asleep. “It’s okay, cub. We are here.”

The empty space around Geralt is excruciating. Under the clear night sky, his witcher senses allow him to see the two of them basked in the silver moonlight—Jaskier kneeling at Ciri’s side, one hand clasped around her wrist and the other carding through her curls. The girl’s pained expression eases slowly.

“Oh… Don’t be afraid, sweet girl,” Jaskier shushes her, the flow of chaos buzzing in the air. “Let me take your fear away, all right? Don’t fight me. Let me in, so you won’t be scared anymore…”

The bard continues to murmur sweet nothings to the girl, easing her resistance to his empathetic powers. At this point, Jaskier’s magic is like a second layer of skin to Geralt, gentle and warm and weaving around their hearts. Even when it’s not directly used on him, he feels somehow pulled to their connection.

To Jaskier and Ciri.

His empath bard and his child surprise.

Two halves of his world.

Jaskier’s eyes are closed to concentration, taming the waves of Ciri’s distress. The action exerts him, Geralt can tell from his elevated heartbeat and the slight slump in his shoulders. The witcher catches himself before he reaches out subconsciously. The gnawing urge to help almost makes him scowl in frustration.

Inaction has never been Geralt’s strong suit.

Finally, finally, Ciri’s eyes flutter open. She’s holding back the tears, as always, even when she’s confused from these dreams, even when she’s reliving her past and desperately searching for her family in the present.

“Geralt?”

Her voice is so small and he has to lean in to hear.

A relieved sigh escapes Jaskier’s lips as he lets go of the girl’s hand. With the magic dissipating, so does the stench of fear. The air settles. As soon as the medallion stills, Geralt surges forward to put a hand on her arm, so she knows he’s here.

On Geralt’s periphery, he senses bard stand and walk to the other side of the campfire—the empath usually needs a moment to collect himself after absorbing someone’s emotions—but right now Geralt’s focus is on his child.

“It’s okay. You are safe, Ciri,” Geralt whispers.

“I dreamed—”

“You are not there anymore.”

“It was burning…I—there was fire… and the man.” She sniffles, stubbornly refusing to cry. His child is tough, probably too tough for her own good.

“It wasn’t real.”

“Because you found me?” There’s a sliver of doubt in her voice that Geralt wishes more than anything to remove.

“Because I found you, Ciri,” he reassures. She’ll need reminding tonight. “You are my destiny and more. I’m here so you’ll never have to be lost again.”

A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Geralt tucks away a strand of hair on her face and watches her eyelids droop heavily.

“I’m not. Not now that I’m awake.”

He returns the smile, although she can’t see it that well in the shadows. “That’s because of Jaskier.”

“Oh.” She searches for the bard. When Geralt looks back at the empath’s silhouette, he’s leaning against a tree, a few paces away from camp. “Thank you, Jaskier. Again,” she says.

“Of course, princess,” Jaskier says softly, “I know how scary nightmares can be, no matter how long it’s been. Those things may have happened a long time ago, but sometimes…they come back and haunt when you least expect it.” He pauses, looking to the distance for a moment. “I’d chase them away for you any time.”

She murmurs another thanks before her eyes close with exhaustion.

“Go back to sleep,” Geralt tucks Ciri’s blanket in, before taking her hand again, his thumb tracing a little circle on her skin. “Sleep, cub. We’ll be here. Both of us.”

It doesn’t take long for her to fall into a deep slumber, peacefully this time. Geralt sits next to her for a while longer just to be sure. When he finally leaves Ciri’s side to see to his bard, Jaskier is still standing with his back against the tree. He seems to be miles away, his expression hidden in the shadows, distant and inscrutable.

“Jask?” They are far enough from the girl but Geralt keeps his voice low.

With a surprised gasp, the bard notices him approaching and almost flinches. “Don’t—”

“Don’t touch you, I know.”

Jaskier rests his head on the tree bark. “Just for now.”

Geralt’s fists clench and unclench at his sides. Using those powers takes a lot out of Jaskier, and it leaves him unbalanced. The empath is so wary of hurting him by accident when he’s like this, with raw energy still rippling under his skin.

But in truth, Geralt doesn’t care. He wishes Jaskier could let him in, let him share the burden. Right now, with the space between them, he’ll have to rely on words instead of action.

It really isn’t his strong suit.

“Another nightmare… ” he decides to distract the bard while he recovers. “It’s been too long since Ciri had an episode. I thought it was all over.”

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds, Geralt,” Jaskier breathes. “We should all know better.”

Geralt frowns at the haunted look on his bard’s face. The tips of his fingers reach forward again, but he quickly hides the movement by crossing his arms before his chest.

“You sound like you are speaking from experience, Jask.”

“Do I?”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s stomach turns at the way Jaskier speaks about the girl’s trauma. “You know if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Jaskier squirms, chewing on his lower lip. Now he’s truly nervous, tense even. The witcher sees the way his posture stiffens and quickly adds, “Or not. Uh—it’s okay if you don’t—"

“No,” Jaskier interrupts him, shaking his head, “No, I want to tell you. I should tell you everything, at this point.”

Silence hangs between them as the bard adjusts his breathing. In and out, like he would before a performance.

“Years ago, when you first identified my powers” Jaskier chooses his words cautiously, the moon shining in his eyes. “I asked if you would use silver on me.”

Geralt’s heart sinks. “I would never, Jaskier. I—How could you ever think that?”

“Oh, relax, my love. I know.” the bard chuckles tightly. “Even back then, I knew you to be a decent man under all the gruffness. You wouldn’t even harm those confused monsters who drifted to human territory on accident, remember? You claimed that your life was just coin and contracts, but to me, it was clear that you were so much more.”

“You are not a monster,” Geralt argues.

“No, but someone else might think differently.”

The leaves rustle in the breeze, the air cooling as the night stretches on. Without the blanket, Jaskier shivers with only a thin chemise on his back. Geralt’s body gravitates toward him of its own volition. Fuck it, if he can just hold Jaskier right now…

“I was thirteen.” The bard is lost in memory. “This man, a magic user, came to our door. It was just me and my mother. He somehow knew about our identities and asked for her help. You see, she had been keeping it a secret for so long, so she couldn’t trust this man, this mage, who somehow just knew that we were empaths.”

He lets out a shuddering breath before continuing.

“His request was… weird. Something about a king or a royal court. I remember thinking that whatever he said sounded so sinister, it couldn’t have been any good. Mum sent him away on the spot, but afterwards she got so scared, like he’d come back again or something. That night, she barred the door and told me to hide in a storage chest. I refused, so she made me. She kept me obedient the entire time.”

Geralt frowns. “Her powers were the same as yours?”

“Stronger.” Jaskier starts pacing, a few twigs snapping under his feet. “She didn’t need contact to manipulate someone’s emotions like me, and she could influence many at the same time. I’m not as powerful—my father was human.”

“What happened next?” Somehow, Geralt knows the story will not end well. A mage usually means trouble. Or in this case, the shadow hidden behind Jaskier’s bright smiles and chirpy songs.

“She kept me calm the whole night, even when she wasn’t with me, but I could feel her fear. It’s was like an undercurrent beneath my skin. I could feel her emotions change. Then I heard the sound of fighting, but I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t go and help her…”

The salty tang of tears assaults Geralt’s nose, but they don’t fall. Jaskier looks up to the sky to hold back the grief that makes his hands tremble.

“Everything got fuzzy after that, but I still remember the pain and the despair. It was like a part of me was hurting with her. Part of me still does, during some nights.” Jaskier closes his eyes in agony. “When I got out the next morning, no one was there. Our home was wrecked, ruined. There was… There was so much blood, Geralt. I—I couldn’t…”

“Oh, Jaskier.” Geralt watches as Jaskier’s shoulders shake, whimpers choking in his throat. Under the night sky, the bard retreats into himself, making his frame look so much smaller. He sways a little and Geralt extends his hands again, hovering by his elbow. “Can I please touch you now?” he pleads.

With a sniffle, the bard composes himself. He flexes his hands to see if his magic is in check. “I think so, yes—oh.”

Geralt pulls Jaskier in for the tightest hug, his arms wrapping around the bard’s frame protectively. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, he can feel another shiver running down Jaskier’s spine, so he rubs small circles into his back to get some heat back in.

He breathes in Jaskier’s scent, not knowing if the lingering stench of fear is from Ciri or the bard.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jask…” Geralt keeps murmuring into the soft hair by Jaskier’s temple. Gradually, the bard sags against his shoulder, letting himself be soothed and supported. Geralt then places his lips to the skin under Jaskier’s ear, and then his cheek, his chin, all the while holding him impossibly close. He’s ready to help the empath restore his energy with all the brimming love in his chest. “Do you want me to…”

“No,” the bard shakes his head. “I’m good. For now.”

They stand there for so long, swaying gently while the world sleeps, before the bard speaks up again.

“I looked for her, and him, at so many courts.” Jaskier’s slightly colder fingers rest on the nape of Geralt’s neck, buried into the hair there. “No mage fit his description. No trace of her either. I think that deep down, I already knew that she was gone, even back then. Otherwise, I would have felt her in there somehow. No matter how far away she was, but all I had was just this emptiness. I was alone since then.”

“You are not. Not anymore.”

“No,” Jaskier pulls away, the tears have dried. Geralt brings the pad of his thumb to trace those streaks anyway. Under his touch, Jaskier smiles. “You see, back in Posada, I met this witcher, a dashing and heroic one. He fell for me so hard that he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without me, so he begged me to become his travel companion.”

“And you agreed?” Geralt chuckles.

“Not at first, but he wore me down eventually.”

The bard is the most ridiculous man Geralt knows, and yet here they are. Shaking his head in amusement, the witcher steers his bard back to their bedrolls. As they settle back into their usual position, Geralt can’t help but pull him closer, making sure they are touching from head to toe.

The cover sets heavily over Jaskier's body, slowly warming up his skin. His heart beats against Geralt’s ribcage steadily, showing with solid proof that the empath has survived those horrors.

“I found you too, Jask,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss between Jaskier’s brows.

“Good.” The bard's reply is muffled by Geralt's skin. Not far from them, Ciri is still breathing evenly, sound asleep. Geralt has everyone he needs to protect right here with him, tucked away from their separate demons.

And yet, his mind drifts to Jaskier's story. It’s a tragedy with no end and no closure. There was never a body to bury, no vengeance to seek either.

Somehow, he doubts that an unfinished story will stay unfinished.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @theultimatenerdd @percy-jackson-is-sexy-

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #empath!jaskier #empath au #witcher fic #soft geralt #soft jaskier #hurt/comfort #hurt jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri has a nightmare #cw: past violence

78 notes · View notes

aesthbaby · 3 years

Text

Attention pt. 2

Summary: After being the unsub’s latest victim in a joint case with the BAU, you see what was missing. Nothing’s ever been clearer and all it took was being rendered unconscious by an unsub in front of your girlfriend and her entire team.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Plus!size reader

Prompt: Check part one

Warnings: cursing | kissing | injury | mentions of a fictional case | poisoning

Word count: 2719

Masterlist

An: I’m pretty sure you can read this as a stand alone if you wanted to but here’s part one. Also, I’m sorry this took me 2 months to publish.

The moon is brighter than the sun? No I’m pretty sure the sun is. What’s wrong with me? Why does my head hurt?

You attempt to reach for your head but your arms are too heavy to be of any use.

That’s definitely not the moon.

The light source is moving. It’s a flashlight, the pocket sized one.

“Stay with us.” You hear a jumble voice from behind but can’t make out who it is. “We’re almost there.” The light is too bright but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. It hurts. “No, no stay up. We’re almost there.” It’s Emily, and she’s the source of the blinding presence. “Can you sit up for me?” You’re saying yes but nothing seems to come out and all you feel is fatigue. Your body is leaving this earth.

And there she is, yelling your name as its being drowned out by the darkness that’s enveloping you.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey!” Emily shouts from the stairs. “Stop day-dreaming and help me.”

“Help you? What’s going on?” The ground feels unsteady but the scene looks familiar.

Emily sets the box of towels on the counter top. “What?”

“Where am I?” You start to examine your hands, wondering what in the holy hell is happening.

“Babe,” The nickname gets your attention immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Emily,” She places a hand on your forehead.

“No fever.”

“Emily, I’ve already done this.”

“What do you mean?” She laughs. “We’ve been at this for hours. You have may more stuff than you let on. Plus, if we’ve ‘already done this’ I wouldn’t have had to tote all of these boxes by myself.”

A ‘sorry’ almost rolls off your tongue but it doesn’t make a sound. “No, Em I’m being serious.”

She plops down on the white arm chair and let’s out a huff. “Fine, you got me.” At your confused expression, she continues. “We’ve been here before, atleast you have. Three months ago you moved into this apartment with the love of your life, Emily Prentiss.”

Barely managing a stutter, “You’re not Emily?”

“Yes. Well, not exactly. I’m your version of her.”

“Am I-” You swallow the lump in your throat before saying the next part. “Dead?”

“What?” She smiles. “No. Just sleeping. A deep sleep at that.” She mumbles the last part.

“What happened? Why am I here?” You Can feel the panic and dread starting to set in. “I want Emily. I don’t want to be here.”

“Woah.” The brunette stands from her seat. “Calm down, you’re okay. Just take it easy.”

“Easy?” Now the anger is starting to boil. “I’m in a fucking coma with a fake girlfriend and you’re telling me to ‘take it easy??”

“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t move to look at her she gently takes your head. “You’re not in a coma y/n/n. You’re just sleeping.”

A tear starts to wellup in your eye. “But what does that mean?”

“Do you remember why you went to work with me today?”

“Uh,” You trail. “I think it was for a case.”

“Right, but why were you there?”

“Emily mentioned me to Hotch a year ago, about how good of an agent I am. That was before we were together.”

“Right,” She nods while doing that lip biting thing. “But why?”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘why?’ I don’t know why.” You begin to pace the shared loft. “I thought she was just putting in a good word for me.”

“Y/n, you know there’s more to it than that.”

You stop your movement and turn to face her. “Then tell me, you know!”

“No I don’t. I told you in not really her; I’m your version of her. I only know as much as you know.”

You slowly sink down on the plush couch. “I want Emily. I want the real Emily.”

“Then go to her.” She sits beside you and lays a gentle hand on your knee.

“How? I don’t even know why I’m here or what’s going on with me. I just want to go home.” The tears are staring again but not falling.

“Yes you do. Come with me.” She stands and holds out a pale palm to you. Hesitantly taking it, she leads you to your bedroom door. “Are you ready?” As soon as she sees you nod she opens the door and a bright light pulls you both in.

“Em, where are we?” In front of you is the bed to which you’ve been sharing for months now. On it is Emily in one of your big t-shirts on the phone with someone. “Wha-”

“Wait,” Your artificial Emily whispers.

The closet door opens and you step out in the new pajamas she bought you. “You look good.” She smiles with the phone away from her ear.

“Who is that?” You mouth as you crawl into bed with her.

“Hotch.” The classic toothy smile is on display as she replies. “Yes! Sir— I’m sorry but I- no we do not. Okay thank you.”

“What was that?”

“Hotch was asking for my input on the new trainees.”

“And....?”

“I did a thing.” She drags.

“A thing?” You arch your eyebrow.

“Yes.” She moves to straddle your lap.

“What was it?” Her lips on your neck completely scrambles your brain. Effectively making you forget what you were asking.

“What is this? I barely remember it.” You turn to face your rendition of Emily. All you get is a shrug in reply from her. “She wasn’t actually talking about trainees, was she?” Another shrug. “I’ll take that as a no. Was she talking about the poisoning case?” Silence. “She recommended my department to help with the murders.”

“Finally, but you still don’t know why.”

“Do I need to? Why does it actually matter.”

“Come on babe,” She brushes a hand down your arm. “I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Since when do you call me ‘babe?”

“We’ve been over this, I’m not Emily. I’m your version of Emily and apparently you subconsciously wish she’d call you more pet names.”

I’ve never thought of it like that...

“I want to show you something else,” She gestures to the bathroom. “Pay attention this time.” As she leads you through the door you can hear your past self speaking.

“She told me I have a weight problem with a god complex intertwined.” You huff from the bathroom mirror.

“Who?” Em is sitting on the edge of the bath moisturizing.

“That bitch I work with!”

“The same one who asked if Africa was a country?” She scrunches her face up in a disgusted twist.

“Yes! Who says that to someone?”

“Yeah how did she get into the academy anyway?”

“Privilege, both Pretty and Rich.”

She lets out a scuff. “That cannot be real.” You turn to her with a confused look. “Pretty privilege.”

“It’s very real and you clearly have it.”

The brunette stops dead in her tracks. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous Em, and you have been appointed more opportunities for it.”

“I’d like to think differently....” she trails.

“I’m not saying you haven’t worked hard to get where you are today but your looks have pushed you a bit further than the rest of us.”

She’s silent for a bit, to the point where you start to worry that you’ve done something wrong. “Then what does that make you?”

You place your towel on the rack and turn to face her again. “What do you mean?”

“You have the looks, charm, and brains. Do you consider yourself to be ‘privileged?”

Completely bipassing the question, “You think I’m pretty?”

“Was that not obvious before? I practically drool whenever I look at you.” She’s as sincere as always but your eye rolls says you don’t believe her. “I know how you can get trapped inside your head sometimes, but I want you to know that I do not share the opinions you have of yourself. You look at yourself and dismiss your beauty while I embrace it. You’re always doubting your intellect when I find myself wondering how I got so lucky to fall in love with a female version of Spencer.” Your small smile morphs into a laugh at the Spencer mention.

“I can’t stand it when you go all soft on me.” Hearing Emily say stuff like this always surprises you because she’s not really the type of person to confess all of this first. It’s usually you who has to adress your emotions as a couple.

“Only for you.” She leans up and plants a kiss on your cheek.

As the memory fades you turn to the consciousness you’ve been talking to. “Shit.”

“Yup.” She draws.

“The reason she didn’t see my connection to the victims is because she doesn’t see that side of. She doesn’t see me as her ‘Plus-Sized Girlfriend.’ She only sees me as her girlfriend, no other labels attached.”

“So, you get it? Do understand why?”

“I get it now.” A tear teeters on the edge of your eyelid. “Yeah, I get it.”

She snakes an arm around you, effectively pulling you into a tight hug. “Are you ready now?” She even smells like your Emily, the memory making the tear fall from your eye. “Remember what I showed you, okay?” Before you can respond a warm light envelopes you.

It makes sense now, she recommended me for the case because of my abilities, no because we’re together or she wanted me to get ahead. She has a blind spot that’s blocking a good chunk of her perception of me. She couldn’t have known I would’ve been targeted. The unsub could’ve been watching me way before I got involved. There’s still a bunch of holes in the case but this is the best you’ve got. Please remember all of this before you wake up.

Your eyes are heavy again. The room feels cold but warm at the same time. Trying to peak out of one eye proves more difficult than it seems. The blinding light of the room is overwhelming, it’s like white ice. Now I’m not making sense. You try to cry out for someone, anyone, but the words die off on your dry lips before they can formulate. “Hey,” You hear a voice softy call from the other side of the room. A tender hand plants itself on your knee, making you flinch a bit. “Glad to see you awake.” Why do I know that voice? In front of your barely open eye is a blonde blob; as your eyes began to focus you realize it’s Jennifer.

As you try to master a hey all that comes out is a low croak. “Its okay, don’t try to speak just yet.” Everything in your head feels fuzzy but the only thing you’re able to think about is Emily. A hum that barely resembles an ‘M’ boils out your vocal cords.

“Emily?” She clarifies on your behalf. A small smile breaches your features. “I’ll go get her and the doctor.” No less that a minute later you can hear her healed boots tapping towards the room. She rushes to your side, planting kisses along your forehead. The doctor does her round of intake on your body with Emily glued to your side.

“Agent y/l/n should make a full recovery so long as the healing process goes as planned.” Was all you managed to absorb as she explained the aftercare plan for you. All of this while JJ is in the background putting the pieces together. She had a feeling Emily was seeing someone but had no idea that someone was you. The way she’d been acting since you collapsed in the office made her also connect the dots. Emily explained her concerned behavior as a long friendship you two once had. Everything was starting to make sense now; you’re the one person who could break Emily’s walls and tear down this compartmentalization bullshit she has going on. Not wanting to impede on what she can only assume is a private moment, she steps out of the room to inform the rest of the team.

“Are you okay?” It’s like she wants to cry, scream, ball her eyes out but all of that built up emotional strain won’t allow her. Instead of letting her do this to herself, you try your best to shift in the bed. “What are you doing?” You didn’t get very far but now there’s an empty space beside you. Motioning for her to lay next to you actually works. With both of you in the annoying small hospital bed you can hold her closer, feeling the quick heart beat. The brunette head of hair in nuzzled in your chest so not to interfere with the tubes and wires still attached to you.

Taking a deep breath and just enjoying the moment, you finally speak. “I’m okay. I mean I feel like I swallowed sandpaper but I’m okay.” You can almost feel the sigh release from her chest.

“We still have no idea how you were poisoned or why you were targeted.” Her jaded voice is always never this emotional, it’s strange to hear her so vulnerable. “For the smartest minds of the FBI we feel a little stupid.” The laugh the bounces around in your throat is painful, still welcomed. “Baby,” She starts after a moment of silence. “If I have realized the connection between you and the victims, I wouldn’t have let you work this.”

“You didn’t know,” You have no idea where this is coming from but something in the back of your mind is telling you to explain it to her. “You don’t see all of me, Em.”

She sniffles and buried herself deeper into you. “When I look at you, all I see is you. I don’t see your weight or your figure, I only see you. My girlfriend. You’re right, that’s the problem. I’m only seeing part of you. Not all of you. I don’t deserve you.” She moves to stand but you quickly pull her back in before she gets the chance.

“You can’t run from this, Emily. I understand that you didn’t do this intentionally.”

“My actions- blindness almost costed you your life. I can’t put you in danger again.” When she pulls away you let her go this time.

“Emily. You’ve ran away from your own shadow before, aren’t you tired?”

“If it means keeping you safe, I’ll file a fucking restraining order!” She nearly yells.

“Don’t do that. Everytime you fuck up you get that look in your eye like I’m going to break up with you or something. I’m not. I know you’re waiting on the other shoe to drop but I promise it’s not. All of those other guys you’ve been with? I’m not them. Big difference is that I’m female and a lot more mature. I’m also not as psychotic as he who shall not be named.” A small smile breaches her features. “I love you. Rather you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh really? Wait until Garcia finds out I’ve been hiding this from her. She’s going to wanna know all about you. You’ll definitely be invited to the next girls night.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug. “But seriously, how did I get poisoned?”

“The forensic team is still searching our place, nothing yet but you know they like to take their sweet time with cases. I’ve obviously be recused from the case while the rest of the team works with the CDC and the Anti-terrorism division. We also have agents and Unis posted outside the room and hospital so the Unsub has no chance of coming after you again. Even an added air filter so he has no vent system.” She waves towards the attachment on top of the existing air vent. No wonder the air smells so crisp in here.

“Sounds like I’m in good hands.”

“You are, just wish I could be out there with them.”

“You’re right where you need to be, right where I need you.” You stretch your arms out to her like the way a child does.

She laughs at the gesture but complies. Instead of squishing into the small bed she drags the chair to the side of your bed, firmly clasping your hand in her’s.

Welcome to the tag list. Click here to be added or send me an Ask.

@beyondprincess @millipop18 @supercorp8388 @groovygoob @emilyprentisswife @covetedcoven @justaghostmonument @rabid-wild-misfits @nomit16 @afuckingshituniverse @mys2425 @fanfictionfangirl04 @aaron-hotchner187 @lisztomaniacalice @thestrawberrygirl @penelope-garciasbitch @criminalmindsmoodrn @ssacandice-ray @davidrossiismydad @blakes-dictionxry @ssaemxlyprentxss @andreaxxg13 @emilyprentissistoocute @mortallythoughtfulgurl @iamyouknow-yours @emilyprentissistoocute @gubler-s-whore @thr33l3afclov3r @ssa-prentissinred @tnoh13 @im-hella-bright @reids187iq @kaywritesfanficss @confused-and-really-hungry @amethyst09

If you’d like to be removed or was accidently tagged, shoot me an ask.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #agent emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #bau #reader x emily prentiss #x reader #fbi x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fbi #y/n x emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x plus size reader #plus size reader

102 notes · View notes

bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

Text

come on in, folks, i got some kind of goof ass Beetlejuice/Evil Dead crossover for you to enjoy.

He’s eighteen, and it’s Saturday, which means that he and Lydia are wandering around Manhattan, looking for trouble to get into. Lydia, eleven and ever his little shadow, is standing next to him, as they take a moment, on the busy New York street corner, to sip their boba and think about their next move. They were meant to be watching some horror movie that had looked alright from the previews, but ended up being so stupid, it wasn’t even fun, and the Deetz siblings had found themselves walking out, one hour poorer but a bucket of overly butter saturated movie popcorn richer. “I still can’t believe how bad that was,” Lydia says, again, huffing, because they’d actually paid money to see that stinker, instead of sneaking in, which is their usual habit. “Ya get one big name attached an’ everyone apparently stops givin’ a shit. Musta figured th’ droolin’ masses would eat it up,” he agrees, and he slurps up the last of his tapioca balls, and then proceeds to eat the plastic straw. “Is it too much to ask that characters actually be interesting, and, I don’t know, behave like normal human people?” Lyds bitches, as BJ takes a bite out of his cup, too. She glances up at him, dryly. “I mean, I guess maybe my standards for normality are low, but still.”

He grins at her. “Whatever could you possibly mean, sister dearest?” he puts on a posh, almost transatlantic accent, and she rolls her eyes, and sucks boba up in her straw, then shoots the pearls at him like a pea shooter. He snorts and laughs.

It’s a good day, despite the letdown at the movies. It’s nearly that time of year, just about the start of his seasonal depression, as the sun becomes shy and things go cold and gray. Still, there’s some time left with the sunshine, so he’s drinking it up, savoring it, and it feels good, to stand here with Lyds, and talk about nothing. “Alright, come on, let’s second act it,” he grins, and she perks up. “I think Wicked’s playing!” “Wicked’s always playin’.” “Well, I’m not sitting through Hamilton, it’s a Saturday. I’m not learning if I don’t have to.” “Totally fuckin’ fair. Music Man, maybe?” “Hugh Jackman’s weirdly brick shaped head freaks me out.” “There’s gotta be a show we can sneak into,” BJ frowns, scratching at the scruff of his chin, and then he catches a scent he’s never smelled before, as Lydia puzzles through their remaining options. It’s like death, sort of, but not. Like death warmed over, or death, refried. He takes his sister’s hand, and leads her away from the street corner, following the smell, nose in the air, pupils blown wide, and Lydia laughs. “Great, time to go poke a dead thing. That’s more fun than The Last Four Years, at least.” She’s seen him go like this before, and thinks she knows what to expect.

Neither of them know how to react when they follow the scent down an alleyway and see the violent fight happening in front of them.

Parked at the far end of the alleyway is a car, some 70’s make that he doesn’t know enough about such things to name, and between it, and the Deetz siblings, is an one handed man absolutely going feral on a group of three refried dead smelling zombie… things. “Deadly-vu,” he hears Lydia whisper, as they watch the man perform a scissor kick that sends a zombie head flying. It bounces like a basketball against the brick wall that makes the alleyway, rolls, and lands at the Deetz sibling’s feet. There’s a beat, as they stare at it, and it stares back, before the head on the ground opens its mouth and speaks. “DEMON!” it shrieks, and then it makes the life ending choice to roll at Lydia, teeth bared, and his boot is going through it, crushing through the skull like an overly juicy bug under his heel. He takes a second to wipe the gore from his sole onto the pavement. “Maybe Wicked could be good,” he turns and says to Lydia, who responds by ducking behind him, because the body the head formerly belonged to seems to be stumbling at them, clutching something in it’s boiled and infected and puss covered arms, and it thrusts the thing at BJ, before falling down and collapsing into dust. It’s a book. Some kind of creepy old demon book, from the look of it. He wrinkles his nose in vague disgust, and then takes a sniff. If the zombie things are refried death, this thing is a whole fucking Mexican food buffet of it, and it makes his head spin in a way he’s never felt before. He kind of likes it. He’s about to give the cursed reading material a tentative lick before a boom rings out from in front of them- the one handed man has pulled a sawed off shotgun off his back, and dispatched another corpse thing. There’s one left, and it’s circling the man, who by this point is so blood covered, he looks like he was tricked into being prom queen, or something.

“Is it just me, or do you freaks just keep gettin’ uglier?” the man quips, and the corpse lunges, a stumbling move which earns it the butt of the shotgun to the jaw, which goes flying. The zombie is shot through the gut, and drops, but is a twitching, squirming mess. BJ’s seen enough horror movies to know that thing is getting back up. The stranger has apparently, too. He takes a moment to reload the shotgun, then double taps, blowing clean through the thing’s skull. He blows at the slightly smoking barrels of his sawed off, twirls it, and holsters it, re-slipping it onto his back. It’s a pretty cool move, actually, and the siblings watch in rapt attention. It takes the three remaining people (well, two people, one demon,) in the alley a moment to actually focus on each other, and there’s silence, before the stranger speaks. “Uh,” says the man, covered in blood, and Lydia peaks out from behind BJ, and stares at him, with big eyes. “Kids,” he hears the man mutter. “Great, just what I need, a coupla kids, gettin’ in my way.. Hey, kiddies,” he says, louder, with a smile, which might be really charming when he’s not soaked in rot and blood, but the effect at the moment is not as sincere and friendly as he clearly thinks it is. “Looks like you two little heroes managed to wrangle my book away from those deadites. You wanna do your pal Ash a favor, and hand it over?” He makes a “come here” motion with his stump arm, and then seems to realize that’s not so appealing, because he tucks that appendage behind his back, worried, suddenly, about scaring them. As if a man with a missing hand is the weirdest thing they've seen in the last five minutes.

“What the fuck,” Lydia says, and BJ can’t help but agree with that sentiment. Also, he feels a vague sense of sudden responsibility for this weird old tome. It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing a human should have. Maybe those zombies… deadites? Maybe they were trying to get back what was stolen from them. Though he’s not charitable enough to assume that they’re the good guys in this feud. The stranger, Ash, takes a careful step forward. “It’s alright,” he says, like he’s talking to a wild animal he’s trying to tame, and not a teen and preteen, respectively. “I’m not gonna hurtcha. Just need to get my book back.”

A sudden screeching wind roars down the alleyway, and both living humans react, ducking, as it bellows and swirls around them, kicking up dust and trash and chunks of leftover deadite. “Demon! Aid us!” BJ feels a presence in front of his face, something he can’t see, but a great, ancient something, reaching out to him, demanding, begging, pleading, for him to assist in whatever macabre goal it wants to meet. He responds by sticking his unglamoured tongue out at it. “Ewww, gross. No.”

The thing shrieks again, and makes a beeline for Lydia, which is just about the stupidest thing it could have done, because he drops his glamour fully and snarls, gives the ancient being a psychic push back, and he sends the thing that cannot be seen flying, out of the shady darkness of this alleyway, past what he assumes to be Ash’s car, and out onto the city street, into the sun. It shrieks and moans and curses him. He flips it off, as it dissipates. The vibe in the air, however, tells him it’s not “dead,” just gone.

Ash straightens up and looks at him. BJ’s already slipped his human disguise back on, so the effect is that Ash has just seen what seems to be a slightly too pale and definitely overweight human teen somehow push back an ancient evil, totally unaffected. Now it’s his turn to let out a confused, “What the fuck?”

“Come on, BJ!” Lydia grabs her big brother’s arm and pulls him away, running from the gore and the confused zombie slayer. “Wait, kids-!” Ash rounds the corner, after them, but the Deetz siblings are already gone, disappeared into thin air, flash stepping the span of blocks in the blink of an eye, and they don’t stop until Lydia, sick from the teleportation, gives his hand a squeeze. They appear on a rooftop, confusing and traumatizing some pigeons that had been roosting.

“Wait, why did we run?’ BJ asks, and Lydia looks at him like he’s a moron. “Because that guy was clearly a monster hunter! And kind of really good at it!” she says. He mulls that over, and smiles. “Worried for your big bro?” he bats his eyelashes at her, and she responds by slugging him in the gut, which he reacts the barest amount to. “Last thing I want is to explain to mom and dad how you ended up with a shotgun blast through your skull,” she says, and crosses her arms, before leaning forward, to study the book he’s still holding. “So. What is that?” He grins. “Wanna open it an’ find out?” Read the rest of the first chapter here!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice au #bj deetz au #ashley williams #ash williams #evil dead fanfiction #lydia deetz #emily deetz #charles deetz #my writing

20 notes · View notes

angerstagram · 4 years

Text

monster among men // calum (SMUT)

boxer!calum

Pairing: Calum + Y/N

Words: 4.6k

Rating: X. For, you know, sex.

Description: Calum is your long time boyfriend but he’s also a boxer. When his trainer says the two of you can’t have sex before the big match, you find that much easier said than done.

Warning: Oral sex, mentions of violence (for sport).

Author’s Note: I wrote this in one go and haven’t edited it!! Please forgive the typos. Stay tuned for a part two!

——————————————

Calum threw one last punch at the now well-abused punching bag, watching it swing slowly back and forth—toward him, then away, then toward him again—and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The air in the gym was thick with sweat and dirt as men all around him trained against sparring partners, trainers, or a giant bag of sand, like him.

His trainer, Sal, came up behind him and squirted some gatorade in his mouth before helping him remove his gloves. “That was great, Cal. Your form is better than 97% of the guys in here.”

Calum smirked. “My form is better than 100% of the guys in here and you know it, Sal.”

Sal smiled at Calum but refused to boost his ego. “Well your form isn’t gonna win you a belt, Cal. Not on its own. I need you to keep up your power all the way to the last punch.” Sal was talking excitedly with his hands now, throwing fake punches at the air as though it were 1987 and he was back in the ring.

“Don’t worry about my power, Sal. Just get me in the ring and I’ll take it from there.” Calum wiped the towel Sal handed him against the back of his neck and then over the planes of his chest where little beads of sweat had gathered.

“Alright, big shot.” Sal gestured his head toward the ring and Calum climbed in, letting Sal strap the gloves back on once he was inside.

Sal slid on a pair of punching mitts and held them in front of Calum’s face. “Focus on me, Cal. Right here.”

Calum started throwing punches and Sal met them every time. Every time Calum dropped his guard, Sal would take advantage and hit Calum in the face with a mitt until Calum’s cheek was red and starting to swell.

They went on like that for the better part of an hour, before Sal finally let Calum take a break at the edge of the ring.

“It’s that girl, Calum. She’s inside your head. It’s all well and good to get laid when you don’t have a belt on the line. But if you’re spending all your time thinking about what little date you’re gonna go on and picking up a nice bouquet of pansies or some shit, you’re head ain’t gonna be where it needs to be.”

Calum knew that Sal was trying to rip him up and make fun of him by playing on age-old stereotypes, but Calum could’t even hear him.

As soon as Sal mentioned flowers Cal could smell your perfume. He could feel your skin under his fingertips, the soft give of your hips as he squeezed them. It was as though you were standing right in front of him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as you worked in the kitchen. He was pulling your back to be flush with his chest, the shape of your ass pushing deliciously into his —

“You’re not even listening to me, are ya?” Sal’s voice cut into Calum’s reverie and suddenly he was whipped back into the gym.

“I get it, no girls before the match. I hear you, Sal.” If the guys wanted to believe that Calum was a womanizer who was bedding a different woman every night, he would let them. But he wouldn’t jeopardize this match for anything.

————————————————

Calum was really, truly planning on staying strong until his match. But then he got home and you were standing there wearing one of his cotton t-shirts, barefoot and swaying your hips in time to the music playing through the stereo. Everything smelled amazing, the food you had simmering on the stovetop, the candle lit on the coffee table, the summer breeze drifting in through the open windows.

He slipped off his shoes and padded into the kitchen while you faced away from him. He knew you didn’t hear him come in over the sound from the stereo, so he had the advantage as he walked up behind you and gave you a playful slap on the ass.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the spoon into the sauce you had been stirring and letting out a yelp. “Calum Thomas!” you explained, licking the sauce off your thumb where it had splashed when you dropped the spoon.

“Hmmm,” Calum let out a low hum as he nuzzled his face into your neck, just as he had imagined earlier. He let out a soft sigh, the sound of a man who was exactly where he wanted to be after a long day. “Hey, let me have a taste, too,” he murmured, turning your chin between his fingers and kissing you deeply.

You twisted yourself in his arms so that your back was to the stove and your chest pressed against his. You loved when he came home like this; worked up from a day of hard exercise, hair still wet from his shower at the gym, the muscles in his arm thick and corded under his t-shirt where you traced your fingers.

His mouth wandered down your neck, his open mouth warm against your pulse points. You were breathing heavier now and he knew it, pressing his palm against the small of your back and drawing you impossibly closer to him.

“So, um,” you tried to string a sentence together as the feeling of his lips on your skin scrambled your thoughts. “How was work?”

Your little joke passed over him without laughter, his focus unyielding. He was always so focused on whatever task was at hand that he often couldn’t see or hear the world around him. Times like this, that trait came in handy.

You laced your fingers through his wet hair and scratched softly at the back of his head, bringing his focus briefly back to reality. Calum raised his face to yours again and smirked against your lips. “Work was great, sweetie. And how was your day?”

Calum loved playing pretend like that. Pretend like you two were a normal couple; that he had a normal 9-5 job pushing papers behind a desk in a suit and tie and you drove a mini-van or some shit. A joke that made it seem in moments like this that he wasn’t in physical danger 95% of his day and you didn’t spend thousands of hours of your life scared that one wrong punch would be the end of him.

But you couldn’t think about that now, not when he was hooking his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisting you over onto a clear spot of the counter. Not when he was standing between your open knees and pulling you closer to his chest again, his arms circling your back and his mouth hot and needy against yours.

His kisses were urgent and all-consuming, pulling the breath of you and energizing you all at the same time. You didn’t realize he had pulled your hair out of it’s ponytail until you felt it cascade down your back. He pressed a kiss behind your ear and bit it lightly, causing you to laugh at the aggression.

“What’s gotten into you, Hood?” you asked breathlessly, teasing him for his ability to go zero to ninety in 3.5 seconds. Something in the tightness of his back and the set of his jaw told you something was up, though. “At least let me turn off the sauce so it doesn’t burn.”

Now he was laughing at you, his chest rumbling against yours. “I’m doing some of my best work here, babe, and you’re thinking about the sauce?”

“I just don’t want it to burn! I’ve been building these flavors for an hour, Cal.”

He didn’t stop laughing, but humored you by reaching over and switching off the burners. “Happy now?”

“I’ll be happier when you tell me what’s going on,” you said softly as you rubbed circles against his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the muscles there.

He dropped his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your lips. He knew he would have to bring it up sooner or later, but he didn’t think he would have to say it so soon. “I, um, well.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “Basically, Sal thinks that we shouldn’t, um.”

You dipped your head, searching for his eyes. Trying to follow along with his train of thoughts going nowhere. “Sal thinks we shouldn’t what, Cal?”

“Sal thinks we shouldn’t be, um, romantic before the championship match.” Cal almost looked like he was blushing. For someone that was so confident and uninhibited while you were actually being romantic, he often had a hard time talking about it when you weren’t.

Your face was deadpan as you looked at him. “Sal says we can’t fuck before the match,” you paraphrased in an unenthusiastic voice.

Now he was definitely blushing, the color rising in his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Um, well, yeah.”

“The match that’s in three weeks.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your trainer, a man who hasn’t had a wild night of passion in over a century, says that you and I cannot fuck for 21 days.”

“Yeah.”

“And that will do…what exactly? It will help your form?”

“No, my form is great, actually. It’s my power on the last punch that needs work,” Calum replied, genuinely not realizing that you were being sarcastic.

“Then why the fuck did you come in here and start kissing me like that, jackass?” You swatted at his shoulder and dropped your head to his shoulder, huffing at the injustice of it all.

Calum laughed at your frustration, rubbing calming circles into the small of your back again but you pushed against his shoulders.

“You really can’t touch me if you don’t want me to jump you right now, Calum.”

The look in your eyes made him see you weren’t really joking. Calum felt a sudden rush of conflicting emotions; half feeling guilty that he had done this to you, and half feeling proud that he had a girl who wanted him as badly as he wanted her all the goddamn time.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, love, I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I wanted a little something to tide me over.” He was smirking now, leaning in to give you another kiss but you turned your head to the side in defiance.

He tossed his head back in defeat, taking a step back and throwing his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t pressure you.

But that’s not what you wanted, either. It was very confusing, really. He had worked you up and then left you high and dry, so you were just as much want and need and greed as you were angry and annoyed.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back against you, shifting forward on the counter. “If you want to tide me over, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you said against his lips, sliding your hand down the front of his shorts and palming him over his underwear.

Calum groaned and bucked involuntarily against your hand before grabbing your wrist. “Baaabe, we can’t,” his voice almost a whine.

You slipped your hand back out of his shirt obediently and placed it back on his shoulders. “Fine,” you conceded. “I guess I’ll just have to go take care of myself. You can finish up dinner, right?”

Giving his shoulders a light push, Calum stepped back, surprised. You slid off the counter and began walking out of the kitchen toward your bedroom before feeling his hand grab your wrist. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

He pulled your wrist to turn you around, holding your hand to his cheek and pressing his mouth where it met your wrist. He held it there for what felt like forever, the worlds slowing down and your heart speeding up as you concentrated on the feeling of his lips against your palm. He was looking at you from under his criminally long lashes, all dark lines and tan skin with a single wet curl hanging over his forehead.

“We can do this, together, I’m sure,” he murmured into your skin. “Now can we please eat this beautiful dinner you’ve worked so hard on?”

Breathing in through your nose and blowing out through your mouth, you focused on both calming down and cooling down. You really wished this place came with a goddamn air conditioner.

“Fine. You make the salad.”

————————————————————

A week went by like that. The tension growing thicker each day. Waking up next to Calum and feeling the shape of his body against your back, your front, your legs twisted between each other’s or splayed like snow angels. No matter the position, you woke up hot, every inch of your scorching where it touched his.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. You had been celibate voluntarily or involuntarily, for months at a time not that long ago. You were an adult who could survive a simple 21-day stretch without sex.

But that was all before you met Calum. Before you had been with Calum; known the way his body could make yours feel. Before you knew the way he could play your body like a fine-tuned instrument, his every touch lighting a fire inside of you that threatened to melt you from the inside out.

And it was in moments like this, when the early morning sun was streaming in through the curtains and causing a cold yellow light to dance over his golden skin that you felt so acutely what he could do to you. You lay awake just staring at him. At his long, black eyelashes curling so beautifully over his closed eyes. His messy morning hair curling haphazardly over his forehead. His strong jaw line creating a line that led down his neck to the shape of his collarbone where it stood out over the swell of his bare chest.

His breathing was slow, the rise and fall almost lulling you back to sleep. But then he spoke. “You’re being creepy,” he murmurs without opening his eyes.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently, swiping his hair off his forehead and running your finger down his cheek to his jaw.

“Staring at me looking all sexy and asleep isn’t going to help your predicament, see cheeks,” he joked as he slowly came into consciousness.

“How do you do that without opening your eyes?”

He turned his face to press his mouth to the pulse in your wrist, one eye peeking open to stare at you in the morning light. “I’ll tell you one day.”

You curled into his side, setting your chin into his shoulder to stare at him up close. “I think I’ve been rather good, actually. I haven’t pressured you even once, even when I really wanted to jump your bones.”

He laughed, curling to face you on his arm, your bodies forming two parentheses barely overlapping each other under the mustard yellow sheets. “You’ve wanted to jump my bones, hmm?” He ran his hand down your back to your underwear, teasing the skin just under the hem of his cotton t-shirt that you had worn to bed.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “When you come home all sweaty from the gym in those short ‘80s shorts. How could I resist?” Your voice was joking but you really weren’t. Those were the times you really felt like no championship would be worth dying a slow, horny death.

“Well you’ve been very patient.” Calum pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long has it been, anyway?”

“Eight days,” you replied too quickly.

Calum noticed your eagerness and laughed. “Eight days. Hm. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. Not after yesterday, when he had texted you I have a surprise for you when you get home ;) and you arrived home prepared to see a naked Calum covered in whipped cream or something….only to find him with an extra-large pizza from your favorite restaurant. Granted, that had been a pretty good surprise. But it didn’t change the fact that you only thought of him a tease with no action to back up his big talk.

“Oh I’m certain I deserve a reward,” you replied, giving him a playful slap on the ass.

“Whatever shall we do about that?” he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose everywhere his breath ghosted over you.

Calum rolled you onto your back, throwing his leg over your waist to rest his full chest against yours. Maybe you could get excited, after all.

He pressed small kisses against your neck, nipping at your skin to make you gasp. When you moved your hands to twist them through his hair he grabbed them and pressed them to the pillows above your head, twining your fingers together and making your breath come out unsteadily.

He kissed you deeply, the air leaving your lungs. Suddenly your entire body was nothing but a pile of unmitigated need, a live wire that sparked everywhere his mouth touched. And his mouth on yours made you feel like he was breathing your life into your lungs and pulling it back out all at the same time.

It was an effect no man had ever had on you before. The ability to turn you inside out like this. Was it because you were in love with him? So completely in love with him that it made the want and the need and lust and sex and love all mix up with each other in your mind until they were a single force driving you toward peak after peak.

And he had barely even gotten started. He had you pinned between his strong arms, the muscles in his bicep flexing as he held himself over you. He ground his pelvis into yours, your back arching to meet each delicious thrust. God, he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

Calum held himself above you to watch the effect his actions had on you. The way your eyebrows furrowed together as he rubbed against you. The way you shivered when he traced one finger up your arm and over the swell of your chest to cup your breast over your shirt.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” you murmured. “Dry humping my boyfriend while his mom watches TV in the living room.”

“My mom is here?” Calum looked over his shoulder as though he would find her standing right behind him.

You laughed and used his distraction to push him onto his back. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You peeled his t-shirt off of you and threw it on the floor, immediately forgotten.

Calum drank you in above him, pupils blown out with lust, watching you closely to see what you would try to do next. His body looked relaxed but you knew that in reality he was like a predatory cat preparing to strike. That his lazy exterior could spring into action before you could realize what had happened.

Not wanting him to steal your pleasure from you, you acted before he could. First you slid your fingers down your panties and gathered some of the wetness that had grown there before rubbing your fingertips slowly over your clit. Your mouth pouted open into a gasp, reveling in the sensation, grinding harder as you chased that pleasure.

You slapped your other hand to his chest, your fingertips digging crescent moons into his bronze skin as you rolled your hips over your hand, and by extension, his growing erection.

Calum sat up suddenly. His face was still relaxed, but the speed with which he moved gave away how much your action had affected him. He pressed his chest flush with yours and kissed you hotly.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pulled your hand out from your panties and pressed your fingers into his mouth. His tongue laved slowly over your fingertips, drawing a long moan from you, the air between the two of you growing thick and electric.

“God, you’re killing me, Cal,” you moaned. He ran his fingers down to your hips again, digging into the flesh and rolling you against him. Back and forth, back and forth, rolling you quickly toward an orgasm thanks largely to how long it had been since your last one.

“Do you,” Cal pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, “do you touch yourself when I’m away?” Calum’s voice sounded genuinely quizzical, as though he were discussing the weather or asking you for directions.

“I, um.” Your brain was short circuiting as he pressed you harder and faster against him, your wet panties rubbing against your clit like a tongue. He pressed another kiss to your bare chest, nipping you just under your collarbone before taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Well? Do you?” He repeated, his hot breath causing you to shiver where it met your pebbled nipple.

“No. Um.” The screws were coming loose in your brain. Everything you wanted to do with him, do to him, were flashing over the inside of your eyelids as he drew you to your peak. “Not since, um, not since you said we couldn’t, oh god.”

Calum pulled away and you whined at the loss. He was looking at you intently, as though trying to judge if you were being serious. “You mean that?” He slid his hand down the back of your panties and slid one finger inside you easily. You gasped at how unexpected it was and moaned as he used that hand to pull you back and forth into the grinding motion he had you in before. “You really haven’t had an orgasm for over a week?”

“Yeah, I mean it,” your voice was increasing in pitch and your eyes were shut tight. “Fuck, Calum, don’t stop.”

But Calum did stop. At least, he stopped long enough to throw you onto your back and slide comfortably to rest his head just above your mound. “You’ve been an even better girl than I thought,” Calum praised, his voice still gravelly this early in the morning. “Now let’s see about that reward.”

Calum pulled your underwear off quickly and pressed his tongue flat against you, licking a thick stripe from your opening to your clit. You keened loudly, your back arching when he finally gave you what you needed.

He didn’t intend to tease you. He really did want to reward you for your patience. But it was just so much fun to watch you writhe and moan under him as he teased one finger around your opening and licked figure eights just below your clit.

You were panting as the air of the room pressed heavily against your skin. If fucking Calum was a religious experience, having him eat you out was like leaving earth and going straight to heaven.

“Fuck, Calum. I can’t.” You had been so close to your climax before you felt your mouth on you that your brain was disconnecting.

Finally, he took mercy on you. Diving in to eat you like his last meal. He slid one finger into you, just up to the second knuckle, pressing up against your front wall as he flicked his tongue against your clit.

You bucked up into his face and he didn’t even bother holding you down, just tucked one arm under your thigh to steady himself before shoving two fingers into you up to their base.

He pumped his fingers into you steadily, pressing his tongue flat against you. He alternated his pace, pumping faster when he slowed his tongue and flicking his tongue quickly when he slowed his pumps.

“Oh my god, Calum. Fuck, I—,” you blubbered as your soul left your body. You curled your legs over his shoulders, your thighs shaking as you sprinted towards the high you were both chasing. All the want you had built up for a week had created an ache stronger than you even realized, and the beginning of your orgasm was like stretching an atrophied muscle. “Goddamn it that feels so fucking good.”

When he knew you were going to fall over the edge, Calum slowed his tongue and hooked his fingers to press firmly against your g-spot. He tapped them rapidly against that spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you reached your peak. You clamped your knees against his ears, locking him in place as you finally fell over the edge. Your entire body shook as the orgasm rolled from where his fingers still tapped inside you out to your fingers and down to your toes.

Even as you reached your peak he didn’t stop, pumping his fingers and scissoring them to rub against every wall, running his tongue over you until there wasn’t a nerve left below your waist that he hadn’t annihilated.

It was like his fingers were fucking the air right out of your lungs. Connecting the two of you and unraveling you all at the same time.

“C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got another in you.”

And he was right, really. Except it wasn’t exactly a second orgasm as it was a second wave of the first that had never stopped. He stayed like that for a long time, never letting you come down, pulling one after another from you until you had to shove his face away.

He kissed his way back up your body, holding his hand still against your mound as you came down, its warmth soothing as your body shook.

Finally he pressed his mouth against yours and you could taste yourself. You didn’t have the energy to kiss him back. Your lips just hung open as your breath came out in small pants. He rolled over onto his side and pulled the sheet over both of you.

“You are really fucking good at that,” you said finally, flinging the back of your hand against his chest.

Calum nuzzled his nose against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Only the best for my girl,” he laughed, taking the compliment in stride.

You glanced down at the tent in the sheet where it lay over his waist. “Just, uh, just give me a minute. I’ll get right on that.” You gestured lazily toward his obvious erection.

“No, no. Today was about you.” Calum rolled you so that he was spooning you and ran his hand over the back of yours, twisting your fingers together. “I still need to wait until after the match.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and breathed slowly through his nose to try and bring his own body temperature down. Your thoughts were becoming coherent again.

You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. You kissed him deeply, trying to convey to him the feeling that had overwhelmed you. “I love you, Calum. So goddamn much.”

He smiled but he didn’t laugh. The light danced in his eyes where they crinkled at the corners. He kissed you again and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you, too. Now go back to sleep.”

#calum #calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #5sos #5sos fic #5sos smut #angerstagram

605 notes · View notes

ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

Addicted to You

Part V: Beast of Burden

Summary/Author's Note: Let's have some happy shall we? You flash back to one of your earliest memories with Frankie. You and Will have a heart to heart. (Thank you guys so much for your amazing compliments and feedback. It means the world.) ((also dear god I love this gif so much, the hair, the wind, the hand gestures, the way he says “--FUCKING ANDES, MAN”)) gif by @pascalplease

**There is a Top Gun reference in here because y'all cannot sit there and tell me it's not Fransisco Catfish Morales's favorite movie--so, if you've never seen it, it might seem out of place or left field but I PROMISE it is fitting.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pope's Sister! Reader Word Count: 4.4k Warnings/Rating: R/18+ -- feelings, heavy petting, thigh riding, fingering, Frankie's giant hands, all the kisses, hurt/comfort, YEARNING AND PINING, long lost love, language, Frankie is made out of pure HUSBAND material, y’all, fucking tom

Part I * Part II * Part III * Part IV

[MASTERLIST]

The two vehicles drove one behind the other for most of the morning. You watched the sun come up through the dense tree line, little slivers of golden flashes of light through the lush, green leaves that made you smile slightly in its beauty. Seeing the sun, knowing that the distance between you and Lorea's mansion was growing by the minute, made you finally be able to draw a deep breath without feeling like you were going to crack a rib in the process. The panic had subsided, but afterwards came the muscle fatigue and unadulterated exhaustion of being that tense for that long. Your eyes were heavy, but you couldn't sleep, not yet.

Frankie eventually let go of your hand, needing both of them to turn the steering wheel on some of the switchback roads in the heart of the jungle, but as soon as the road turned straight again, his hand was a warm and gentle weight on your thigh. It was as if he thought the moment he stopped touching you, you would cease to be real. Maybe he was right--maybe his touch was the only thing keeping you centered in your own existence right now.

"You should sleep," he said quietly, glancing away from the road to look at you then back.

"I can't."

He squeezed your thigh and nodded. "You look exhausted."

You chuckled softly and smiled halfheartedly. "I've been awake for the better part of three days, Frankie. If I didn't look exhausted, I would be worried."

He grinned in return, thankful that you at least we're starting to sound like your old self. You both still had a long way to go. He selfishly longed to see that spark back within you, the one he fell in love with--the one that gave him courage and the strength to do just about anything, including getting out of this fucking jungle.

He pulled into a very old, rundown airstrip hangar and you sat up a little straighter, taking off your seat belt as he threw it in park. A small yellow beat up gremlin was parked off to the side where a pretty woman and a man leaned against the open hatchback.

"Who's that?" You asked.

"Pope's informant. We owe her big time."

You looked at her and suddenly was overwhelmed with the idea of not knowing what to say. She looked so normal, a civilian that should have been far away from all of this chaos and yet here she was, playing a huge part in the fact that you were still alive.

Frankie got out of the van and walked around the front to open the door for you as he held out his hand. You nodded your thanks and gripped it, leaning on him more than you would have liked, but god dammit you were tired.

"Your girlfriend is here," Frankie nodded towards the yellow car as Pope hopped out of the second SUV.

"Girlfriend?" Now that made you smile as you raised an eyebrow at your brother who blushed.

"Shut up," he said flatly before walking over to them. Frankie chuckled and shook his head.

He put his hand in the edge of your hair at your temple, gently running his thumb over the side of your forehead as he looked you over. "I gotta start weighing these bags. Go sit with Will. I'll be close by," he added before you could protest, with a wink and a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” you said softly and he hesitated for a moment before drawing you into the circle of his arms and sighing heavily. You clung to his shirt and breathed him in and he hugged you so tightly you felt compressed, but you weren’t about to tell him to stop. “Frankie--” you focused on the way he smelled, like humidity and sweat but underneath it all it was still him, solid and warm. “If you keep hugging me like this, I’m going to lose it and I can’t--I can’t right now.” Your voice faltered towards the end and you balled his shirt into your fists.

“Do you want me to stop?” he mumbled against your hair and the very idea brought tears to the front of your eyes.

“God, no,” you let out an exasperated laugh and he squeezed you tighter. You pulled back slightly and wiped your eyes on the back of your hand, giving him a smile. With each touch he offered, your heart felt lighter, but then again that had always been one of Frankie’s powers over you.

“Fuck!”

Both of you turned as Benny got out of the SUV and slammed the door shut, kicking the tire. Will and Tom followed suit but shut the doors normally, adjusting the strap of their rifles and packs. “What?” Tom snarled at Benny and the younger man threw his arms up in the air.

“What do you mean ‘what’? That was a shit job back there and you know it! We don’t leave messes like that!” Benny was seething. Frankie felt you tense and he let go of you slowly and turned to the other men.

“Hey--Ben, Benny!” He raised his voice and the younger man looked at him. “Take a walk--relax.” He rubbed his hand down his face and glanced at you apologetically as Benny threw his pack down and laced his hands on top of his head, breathing deeply and walking into the grass.

“If no one cares,” Will put a hand to his left side and winced. “I think I’m gonna sit.”

“Let me help,” you said, jogging over to the blond and he smiled slightly.

Tom and Frankie started unloading the duffel bags of cash onto the giant rusty scale that sat under a dilapidated awning. Will sat down on a concrete ledge that connected to a retainer wall and he cursed quietly, when he moved his hand away from the wound his fingers had a few drops of fresh blood on them. “Shit,” he sighed.

“You got another bandage kit?” you asked, dropping down to one knee and starting to unzip his pack for him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, wincing again as he pulled his shirt up to examine the wound further. “You don’t have to--”

“Hush,” you said and he laughed, making you return it. Will had one of the most infectious smiles and laughs of any of your brother’s crew.

“I missed you, ya know? We all did.” He watched as you lifted his shirt out of your way and removed the first round of gauze that was bloody and soaked through.

“I missed you guys, too. It’s been a long time.”

“Too bad we gotta get the gang back together for this--haven’t any of us heard of like a barbecue or something?” he joked. You laughed but didn’t respond, focusing on trying not to rip any of the new clotting off as you cleaned the area, ripping open more gauze with your teeth and spitting the packaging out onto the ground. “You know who missed you most though, right?” he asked, nodding towards the scale as Frankie and Tom continued to toss bags onto it.

“Tom?” you asked and she threw his head back and laughed.

“Smart ass,” he shook his head. “He worried himself sick. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“I know.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you could only imagine how Frankie felt the last few days.

“All these years--” Will waited until you had placed the new bandage and sealed it off with medical tape and a wrap around his waist before he spoke again. “He never stopped loving you.”

“Will..”

“No, I’m serious. And if both of you are too stubborn to admit it and are going to make the rest of us point it out, then fine.” He dipped his head slightly, making you look him in the eyes. “That man is going to fucking love you until the day he dies, and I’m not telling you what you should do but,” he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “If you feel the same, I can’t think of a better time to say something than after almost dying in the fucking jungle.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, plopping down on the wall beside him and tossing the rest of the unused cloth into his pack. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”

“I know I am.” He said flatly and you punched his arm.

“Shut up, Miller.”

Many Years Ago Somewhere Back in Dallas TX, USA

You had met Frankie Morales a handful of times, always in passing and always hanging back behind the others with a beer in his hand and his ball cap pulled just low enough to hide under--a move that he had perfected over many years. He was quiet, sweet, and incredibly handsome. For some reason, unknown to you, they called him ‘Fish’, must have been a military thing, because to you it was dumb.

You brother’s military friends were loud, boisterous, and could drink themselves under the table if they truly wanted to. You had asked Santiago about Frankie and he had just grinned and nudged you in the ribs until you blushed and told him to just forget it. That night however, you sat in the lawn chair, laughing with your family and stealing glances his way. And when you saw your brother pop him two beers and nod his head towards you, you wanted to crawl under the table. Despite the embarrassment of your brother playing both matchmaker and wingman, you squared your shoulders and smiled up at him as he offered you a beer.

Conversation with Frankie was easy, once you got him talking. He was content to let you ramble on and watch you with a small smile and those kind, brown eyes. But once you found something he was interested in, well, he came alive. One beer turned to two, and then to three, and the next thing you knew the two of you had hopped up in the bed of his truck, feet dangling over the tailgate, watching the fireflies in the tall grasses of the field that belonged to the farmers down the street. Since then, fireflies and the smell of summer time honeysuckle always reminded you of the first time you kissed Frankie Morales.

“And how long have you wanted to do that?” you smiled as he gently bumped his forehead against yours and stole another quick peck.

“About the better part of a year,” he chuckled. “Can I do it again?”

“I would be upset if you didn’t.” You grinned and slid your arms around his neck as his hand slid around the curve of your waist and he laid you back in the bed of the truck.

His lips were soft, but his kiss was as hot as the summer air. He slid his tongue over your lip and you opened your mouth to receive him with a soft sigh of content. You wanted to bury your fingers in his dark hair, so you knocked his cap off and did just that. The action seemed to spur him on as his knee came up slowly between your thighs and started to push up the hem of your dress.

“That okay?” he asked against your lips and you nodded, pulling him more firmly against the front of your body.

His actions made you feel bold, feel brave in a way you had never felt before. He was a brave man who had seen a lot of the world, and you wanted him to show it to you. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again before he moved down to nose your neck.

"Mhmm," you smiled and closed your eyes and you felt him suck a kiss against your pulse point. "That's nice."

"Yeah?" He mumbled against your jaw and pressed his knee further into the apex of your thighs. When you shamelessly started grinding against the front of his jeans he let out a groan that made you giggle.

"Roll over," you said and he relented, moving onto his back and grabbing your hips to drag you to straddle his waist. You could feel how hard he was beneath the denim and you put your hands on his chest and rode him, letting the shape of his cock rub against your panties under your sun dress.

"Fuck, sweetheart, come here," he sat up as you leaned down, crashing your lips together. His big hand cradling your face as his fingers threaded through the edge of your hair. His other hand disappeared under your dress and hesitated.

"Yes, Frankie, yes, go ahead. Please, touch me." You said breathlessly before he could even ask permission. At your words he dipped his hand down to cup your mound and he let his fingers part your folds.

"You're so wet. Is that because of me?" He grinned because he knew the answer to that.

"No, it's because of the other guy I was kissing in the bed of his truck." You tried to joke but gasped as he sunk one of his thick fingers inside of you.

"That so?"

"Shut up," you slapped his chest and he laughed, deep and genuine. Despite the fact that his hand was buried in your underwear, his laugh and boyish smile is what made you blush. Shit. You were in trouble.

You bucked your hips against his hand and moaned as he added a second finger and moved his thumb up to rub your clit. His hands were so fucking big, it made you wonder what was tucked carefully into those tight Levi's. You looked down at his handsome face, lit by the moonlight and the single street lamp at the end of the dirt road. It made you kiss him again, closing your eyes and really savoring the taste of his mouth. His fingers curved inside of you and sped up, pressing and rolling the pad of his thumb against your clit.

"Right there, oh, fuck, Frankie don't stop."

"I love it when you say my name." He nosed your cheek and the feeling of his beard against your soft skin gave you chills.

"Frankie," you sighed again and it made him move back to devour your mouth as if he could eat the word from your lips. You bounced lightly in his lap against his hand, brushing his clothed cock with the inside of your thigh and it made him grunt.

When you came it was a soft cry against his cheek as you clung to his shoulders and felt your pussy clench around his fingers. It was sweet, tender, and exactly what you needed. When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you and grinning. You started to speak but were cut off by another male voice.

"Hey, Fish!"

"Shit!" You whispered and Frankie wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned back in the truck bed. You stifled a laugh as you landed against his chest and he pulled his hand from under your dress.

"Shh, shh," he chuckled and put a finger to your lips. When you realized it was one of the fingers that had just been inside of you, you sucked it in your mouth down to the knuckle. He groaned, and whispered quietly, "You're killing me, princesa."

"Fish! I can see your boots, man, I'm not a moron." Will called from the fence line that lined the field where his truck was parked.

"Fuck," Frankie said, leaning his head back with a sigh. "What!" He barked and you gripped the front of his t-shirt, giggling again.

"We're heading out and wanted to know if you were com--wait a second. That better not be Pope's sister in there! Just sayin'," he laughed and you felt your cheeks get hot.

You sat up from your spot on Frankie's lap and popped over the edge of the truck. "Fuck off, Will Miller!" Frankie yanked you back down and you fell into a fit of giggles as he rolled on top of you again.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" He called and you were laughing so hard you let out a snort and Frankie looked at you in gleeful surprise that just made you laugh more.

"I'm not getting involved in this," Will shook his head and chuckled. "Just wear a fuckin' condom, and maybe some kevlar when you tell Pope."

Your jaw dropped and you buried your face against Frankie's chest and he chuckled as well. "So much for being discreet." You both waited, silently daring each other to make a move as you listened to the sound of Will's retreating boots in the gravel road.

He dipped back down and kissed you again, slow and deep, as you reached for his belt and started to undo the buckle. His hand covered both of yours as he stopped your movements. "Wait--"

"What?" You asked, suddenly worried that the looming idea of your older sibling finding out had ruined your chances with him.

"Can I--uh. Can I take you to dinner?"

You bit your lip as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks once again. "I was right."

"About what?"

"You are the sweetest man I have ever met," you smiled and leaned up to cup his face and kiss him again.

"So, is that a yes?" He mumbled against your mouth and you nodded.

"Take off your pants, Frankie."

You thought about the night you first kissed Frankie and wished it could be that simple again. Both of you were just kids. Your world revolved around scraping by to pay the bills and fucking in the cab of his truck. God, you missed that truck.

Will hopped off the divider wall as a small plane landed and the guy who he had paid to provide transport got out to shake his hand. Frankie eyed the puddle jumper with disdain and threw his hand out towards it.

"The fuck are we gonna do with that thing?" He asked, looking at Tom in question as you came to stand behind him. The whirring of a chopper drew their eyes to the lush tree covered mountain as their real ride crested the landscape and Frankie gave a sigh of relief. "Now, we're talkin'."

The wind from the blades whipped the tall grasses and anything not secured blew freely. Your hair covered your face for a moment and you hastily dug a hair tie from your back pocket and secured the strands. Frankie and Tom set to getting the large, canvas drop net secured to the bottom of the aircraft but you knew by the tension in his shoulders there was already a problem.

"This won't all fit in the net!" Frankie yelled, stopping Tom from putting more bags in. "If you want more it needs to go in the body!"

"It'll fit!" Tom said back and Frankie shook his head.

"If that scale is even close to being correct we have six thousand pounds here!" Frankie said as the rest of the men approached them both to find out what was going on. "That's 250 million dollars!"

"We stole 250 million dollars?!" Benny said with a giant smile on his face. "I'm definitely getting that fucking Ferrari!" He grabbed a bag and headed for the chopper.

"That's not the point--fuck," Frankie looked at Pope, desperate for anyone who would listen. "If that scale is right, we're gonna have a weight issue!"

"What's the issue? This helo can carry 9,000 pounds!" Tom said, gesturing to the helicopter and you saw the vein jump in Frankie's neck. They weren't fucking listening.

"That's 9,000 pounds at 2,000 feet...we have to fly over the fucking Andes, man!" Frankie literally stomped in place and threw his arm out towards the mountains.

"Are we really going to leave 200 million dollars on the fucking runway?!" Tom asked and you couldn't take it anymore.

"That's better than being dead, Tom!" You said, taking a step forward.

"You don't get a vote," he snapped, pointing a finger at you and Frankie clenched his fist and moved you behind his body.

"Enough!" Will said, putting his hands out and looking between the two men. "We need to decide now. What are we gonna do?"

Frankie let out a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his hat and down to the back of his neck. You watched as his forearm flexed, the vein in his neck was back, popping out with his rising frustrations. He finally shook his head and held up his hands in defense. "Okay. Okay. She'll make it. Let's go!"

"Frankie," you touched his arm but before you could say anything Tom gestured to the two people leaning against the yellow car.

"What about them?" He jerked his thumb back indicating Pope's informant and her brother. "We're already overweight as it is!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me-" you started but your brother was already a step ahead of you.

"We promised them a ride over the border into Peru! She's the reason I got my sister back! Now, I'm going to help her get out of this fucking country with her brother--like I promised! No exceptions!" Pope waved his arm telling them to follow him into the helicopter.

Frankie put his hand on your lower back and gave your hips a boost to get you inside the craft. He helped you sit down and pulled the straps of the harness connected to the wall over each of your shoulders as he crouched in front of you. His face was scrunched in thought but you knew it wasn't about the complexity of the safety belt, he could do that with his eyes closed. No, you knew what it was about.

"We're not going to make it are we?" You asked flatly and he looked up at you.

"We will. Because I said so." He snapped the buckle shut and jerked on the strap by your breast making sure it was secure.

"Frankie, you're the best pilot I've ever met. If you say it's too much weight, then it's too much weight."

"Yeah, well, Tom's the one in charge."

"Tom can kiss my fucking ass," you snapped and his lips tilted up slightly in a grin.

"There's my girl." He used his knuckle to give the underside of your chin a gentle kip.

You put your hand on his chest and took hold of the fabrics of his button up and pulled him to you for a heated kiss. It was much more than the one at the mansion had been. You opened yourself to him and he took the hint and shoved his tongue in your mouth like you wanted. The slight twinge of pain you felt from your busted lip was worth the sound that came from the back of his throat. It was rough, it was wet, and it was two years overdue. When you pulled back you saw the spark of confidence back in his eyes that you had hoped to put there.

Kissing Frankie always made you feel small, but not in a bad way, like you were protected, like you were safe. With his arms boxing you in and his weight pressing gently against you, kissing Frankie felt like being home. And he was as close to home as you were going to get this deep in the jungle.

"Get us out of here, Mav," you said, and he chuckled at the nickname he had not heard in a very long time.

"You got it, Goose."

He gave you one last kiss on the forehead before finally tearing himself away from you and heading up to the cockpit where he was needed. Since he had found you in Lorea's mansion, this was the most physical distance that had been between you and Frankie and you didn't like it at all. Pair that with the knowledge that despite his protests and being the only one in the group with his fucking pilot's license, they had ignored his concerns about the weight--yeah, your heart was starting to beat pretty hard. You took a deep breath and laid your head back against the metal wall.

You looked up as Pope helped the informant sit next to you. He buckled her in the same way Frankie had done you and the action made you smile.

"You okay?" Pope called over the noise of the chopper and touched your arm.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you nodded, squeezing his hand and watching him go to the front to check on Frankie as the Miller brothers slammed the side doors shut and took their seats. You glanced to the woman at your left and suddenly was at a loss for words. How did you even begin to thank her for everything she had done? For the risks she had taken? She may have gotten something out of it but it still didn't change the fact that you were alive because of her.

"He's your brother?" She said, nodding to Pope's retreating form.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"He is a good man. I need you to know that." She said, her voice cracking a bit and it made your chest tight.

"I know." You put your hand over hers and gripped it, simply because it seemed like the right thing to do. "Thank you." The two of you leaned back as the helicopter started to lift in the air and rock back and forth gently.

What else was there to say?

Tag List: @winters-buck @stevieharrrr @zeldasayer @rae-gar-targaryen @thebakerstboyskeeper @bookshelvesandteacups @honestlystop @seawhisperer @huliabitch @phoenixhalliwell @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @domino-oh-damn @wickedfrsgrl @cloud-of-roses @arrowswithwifi thinemineours @sgtpenny @xxlovingfandomsxx @scorpionsandhoney @honeybeeespeaks @lukesrighthand

@irishleesh93 @ripleyafterdark @lokiaddicted @maybege @humongouspandafest

@jigglemiwa @manda-but-not-lorian @skdubbs @buckstaposition @lostinwonderland314 @a-killvr-queen @seawhisperer @mrpascals @saltywintersoldat @lukesrighthand @starlite41

@ms-dont-care @lustinglilac @fioccodineveautunnale @cahooter @mrscrain-x7 @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @sendhoots @badassbaker @technicallykawaiisoul @lostinwonderland314 @wherethefuckiskathmandu @colourforanamee @anevrismes @kazualdk @keeper0fthestars @sunkissed-winter @@shinyfranci @cinewhore @whiskeyslasso @honestlystop @keeper0fthestars @mad-red @lackofhonor @marie-is-in-the-dark @seeking-a-great--perhaps

Perm Tag List: @winters-buck @zeldasayer @stevieharrrr @rae-gar-targaryen @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor @readsalot73 @cryptkeepersoul @skdubbs @sendhoots @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @googiebeankat @dinohaze @saltywintersoldat @huliabitch @silver-lined-solitude @tainted-gay-ghost @roxypeanut @hayley-the-comet @domino-oh-damn @manda-but-not-lorian @maybege

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #Triple Frontier #frankie catfish morales #Pedro pascal #pedro character fic #addicted to you #Pedro Pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #frankie morales x you

653 notes · View notes

cherrypoki · 3 years

Text

• Golden Hue

➵ Summary: A small series of events leads to you spending your free afternoon on a hill with your friend Gundham Tanaka

➵ Pairing: Gundham Tanaka/ Female! Reader

➵ Genre: Fluff, Friends To Lovers, Bonding, Deep Talk, Mutual Pining,

➵ Word Count: 1.637k

➵ Y/N’s Talent: Unspecified

➵ Authors Note: AHDIHDHKBD IM SORRY I CANNOT WRITE GUNDHAM DIALOG FOR SHIT SO IM SORRY DONT ATTACK ME IM TRYING SKDSJDBJJHB

Exhaustion.

That was the only you could way you could describe how you felt. A deep lethargy had lay to rest in your body and etched itself into your bones.

School was always making you work hard but this part week had really overworked you. Finally the weekend was coming up and all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever until you were nothing but a memory.

But life has a funny way of changing things.

You see, you never were supposed to be outside at the park in the first place. But before you could get to your dorm you had been stopped by Mahiru to talk to you about being a model for some of her cottage-core photos, then when you finally got to your dorm you realised you had locked your keys inside your dorm. and when you went to find the ultimate lock-pick you were stopped by another one of your friends who was looking for their missing dog.

And that’s how you ended up at the park at 7:38pm

The sun was starting to hang low in the sky and you couldn’t see anyone else at the park except for your friend who was climbing the statue and yelling out their dogs name. And not to be rude but you wanted to hurry up and find this dog so you could go home. Hearing a bark in the distance past the trees you yelled to your friend who must’ve heard the same thing as they jumped down from the statue and ran toward the noise, Before they did turning at you to yell

“please stay here in case I’m wrong!”

So now there you were. Alone in the park and waiting for your friend to come back. Tired and beginning to hit the wall as they say you slowly walked over to the nearby hill, somehow managing to make it to the top without falling over. Flopping into the grass you lay down.

You didn’t even hear footsteps until someone lay right next to you.

“Hello There Mortal”

Ah, Your lips twisted into a small smile as there was only one person you knew who had that mixture of the way they talked and how deep their voice was.

Gundham Tanaka.

Right then you couldn’t even be bothered to lift your head so you kept your eyes closed and smiled in awareness.

“Hey Gundham”

“Our meeting must have been foreseen by the elder gods as I have been thinking about our last meeting”

The last time you’d seen Gundham was a few weeks ago when one of his Four Dark Devas had wandered off and ended up in your room. Your roommate (having a cat) was not fond of this as San-D nearly became San-Dead if it wasn’t for you recognising him and deciding to bring him back to his master. But the fact that as soon as the hamster saw you it decided to jump at you and hide in your clothes.

To be honest even though you were friends you hadn’t seen each other in a while. But neither one of you saw the need to explain or give your excuses. You both were ultimate's at Hopes Peek Academy of course you weren’t always gonna have time to hang out. But seeing this moment as a chance to catch up you slowly opened your eyes and had the pleasure of getting an eye full of a beautiful lemonade pink sky. And as a soft wind blew making the flowers and grass tickle your sides you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this okay.

“How’s life been treating you?” You craned your head lightly to see the boys face. His eyes fixated on the sky he answered you without much thought.

“As well as life at this academy can be”

Nodding you turned your head back to face the sky.

“Have you ever thought about the fact that when we’re looking at the sky we’re not just looking at the sky but out into space and far far into the universe?”

Shaking his head he seemed to change the way he looked at the sky as if he was considering what you just said.

“Well is there any proof that any of this matters and were not living on a giant dog write now? For all we know we could be made up things in San-D’s head”

He chuckled at that. And a tiny head poked out of his scarf as if it had heard its name. You wouldn’t be shocked if he did recognise his name given how amazing Gundhams Ham- uh Devas were.

Crawling across the grass and onto the chest the tiny creature looked down at you and feeling a laugh rise from your gut you dramatically gasped and threw your hand over your head. “I have been defeated”

You couldn’t see from the angle but were pretty sure Gundham was rolling his eyes as the rest of the Devas seemed to want to join in on the conquering of planet (Y/N) as Cham-P waddled over to you and crawled on top of you as well while Maga-Z and Jum-P seemed to be happy on Gundhams head and chest.

“If we are all living in Sand-D’s head I can guarantee that I would be ruling over everyone as the supreme leader of the Tanaka Empire!”

You giggled slightly, Even when the two of you were alone if was rare of him to break character, which is why it was a shock when he said

“Maybe all of this is just in our heads”

But you learned not to make a big deal of it when Gundham dropped some of his walls. You wanted to make him comfortable so whether he was Tanaka the Forbidden One or just Gundham you still talked to him like you were (Y/N).

“I heard about a thing called Solipsism, It’s basically a theory where everything you see is created by your own mind like you said”

“Oh really?” He titled his head quizzically, which looked a bit weird since he was lying on the ground but he still managed to pull it off. Swatting at your leg feeling something itch before realising it was just one of the flowers you turned your head to look at him once more. A deep feeling of happiness set into your gut as you began to realise how much you’d missed Gundham, even just talking to him like this made you feel so....whole. Even though you hadn’t known each other as long as others at the school have. You’d only known each other for about a year now it definitely didn’t feel like it.

To say that you bonded easier with Gundham than the others would be an understatement. An odd testament when you realise exactly how different Gundham is to the rest of your classmates. But to you, that just made him more approachable.

Yawning slightly you leaned up, putting your arm on the ground next to him hovering over his head. Picking one of the flowers you smile lazily as you tucked it behind his ear.

“It’s very hard to explain so to cut it short its basically the belief that nothing outside your mind exists”

Laying back down you couldn’t but laugh, There was a deep pink tint to his cheek. Though you couldn’t tell whether it was from the sunset or a blush at first you managed when the sky changed from pink to orange, and then the hue lighting his face was almost golden. But the pink was still there, and it matched with the flower you’d put behind his ear very nicely.

“If everything around me is my imagination your the best thing I could come up with”

If you weren’t sure his cheeks were pink before you were now. And you began to worry you’d overstepped your bounds. Moving to quickly get up and apologise but his hand reached out across your stomach and slowly pulled you back down onto the grass with him. Turning your head back to face him you saw one of his rare smiles, though he had pulled his scarf up past his mouth you looked over at Jum-P on his chest and couldn’t help but giggle at the hamsters knowing look.

His hand reached out and picked a flower, but he must’ve lingered with it in his hand for to long as Maga-Z jumped off his head and and grabbed it out of his hand, crawling over to you and pushing it behind your ear.

His voice came out a little muffled due to the scarf over his mouth but you still heard him well enough.

“Tell me more about that theory”

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Epilogue:

It was pretty dark by the time the two of you decided to go back to your dorms. And it was only halfway there you remembered.

“Fuck!”

Gundham looked over at you confused.

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed, “Shit I forgot my dorm room is locked, I was supposed to go find a locksmith but then my friend needed help finding her dog-”

He interrupted your rambling by grabbing your hand.

“You can spend the night at mine”

By now you were used to Gundham talking normally. But you shook your head.

“I couldn't-”

“You’ve got nowhere to go, As long as you don’t mind a few animals you can stay with me”

You looked up at him, he was already pulling you toward his dorm.

“I’m not leaving someone I care about in the cold when I can help”

As he opened the door to his dorm a smile stretched onto your face. You had to remember to thank your friend later, and give her dog a snack.

#Gundham #gundham x reader #Tanaka #Gundham Tanaka x Reader #Danganronpa #Danganronpa 2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #Danganronpa Scenarios #Imagines #Danganronpa Imagines #x Reader #Fanfiction #Fluff #Mutual Pining #Danganronpa Fanfiction #Gundham Tanaka Fanfiction

82 notes · View notes