#he set the bar for me. he set the standard. i was never too much. i was never too little. he made me feel perfect just as i am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catsrsupersonic · 8 days

Text

fight, and make up

Quinn Hughes x reader

warnings: cussing, angst? kind of?, happy ending, mention of alcohol, ending kind of horrible cause i didnt know how to end it lolz, too long *sigh*

word count: 1.4k ish

Be kind! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Wage peace xx

*****

Person B gets locked out of their house while their roommate is gone, so they spend the night at Person A's place.

“Are you fucking kidding me Alyssa?” you groaned, stood outside the door to the terrace house you shared with your roommate in Vancouver. It was raining extremely heavily, and your work clothes were drenched. Because you had just moved to the city you barely knew anyone. One of your friends from college was looking for a new roommate and you took the plunge and moved from New York to Vancouver just under two months ago. You had tried your best to make some friends, been to a multitude or bars, but trying to make friends as an adult is so much harder than it was when you were a kid. On top of this, you and your boyfriend Quinn had fought the day before and neither of you had spoken to the other since. That’s why, when your key broke two days ago and your roommate, Alyssa, forgot to leave her spare before leaving for a four-day work trip, you were where you were now. Stranded. Cold. Wet. All with no where to go because you didn’t know anyone, and you were mad at your boyfriend.

You stood for a few minutes contemplating your options. Since you always had extra makeup and a clean set of clothes in your car, you could sleep uncomfortably in your car and be sore at work tomorrow. You could also just bite the bullet and apologise to your boyfriend for freaking out on him the day before. In your own defence, he was allowing a random girl who worked at the rink to text him daily. She was clearly flirting with him, even going as far to ask him out for dinner. And even though your boyfriend never entertained her flirtatious comments and only responded politely, it had really irked you that he was replying at all and didn’t shut her down the second she started flirting. What pushed you over the edge when you brought it up was the double standards and hypocrisy when he asked what the big deal was. You knew for a fact that if this was the other way around, he would get so mad so fast and demand you block and remove whoever it was that was texting you. Then all hell broke loose.

Nasty names were called, and shouting continued for nearly ten minutes until you had finally had enough and stormed out of his apartment forgetting your only coat and your favourite lip gloss. You made a b-line to the carpark and only when you were sat in your car did you allow yourself to start crying. You were embarrassed at yourself for being insecure when your boyfriend had never ever given you reason to be, but you were also angry at him for not understanding why you were upset at him. you heard the door to the carpark open and through blurry eyes filled with tears you saw your boyfriend begin to approach your car. Still in an angry frenzy, you quickly pulled out of the parking spot and sped off, not giving him the time of day. Again, you hadn’t spoken since.

You in the end just decided to dry off in your car and head to your favourite bar for a bit to cool off after work and hopefully get tipsy enough to be able to sleep in your car semi comfortably.

After walking through the doors into the loud bar, it wasn’t as busy as usual, it being a Thursday and all, so you manage to snag a seat at the bar. You ordered one drink and just sat watching the game on the TV as you felt someone sit beside you. You looked to your left to see one of your boyfriends’ teammates who you had spoken to a few times. You got into a conversation about the season so far and every mention of your boyfriend made you want his comfort more and more.

Noticing your solemn expression, the teammate asked you, “Where’s Quinn tonight, anyway?” the question made you sigh because you too wanted to know what your beautiful boyfriend was doing at the current minute.

“I don’t know.” You answered truthfully, “we had a fight yesterday and he hasn’t texted me since. It was pretty nasty.” He gave you a sympathetic smile before excusing himself to the bathroom. You ordered you both another drink as you waited for him to come back.

He arrived back to his seat with a slight smirk on his face and when you asked him what he was smirking at he brushed you off and chuckled lightly to himself. The conversation began to flow again, and you noticed him keep looking at the entrance. Then, his gaze fixed solely on the door as a huge grin plastered over his face. He pointed to the door, and you followed where he was looking to see your tired, slightly dishevelled boyfriend scanning the bar for something, or someone for that matter.

As his gaze locked with yours, you looked back to his teammate who was sporting a smug grin. “Snake.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he laughed at your remark. He gave the bar staff enough cash to pay for the drinks you had both had and before you could protest his paying, he was at the door, saluting you on his way out.

The seat next to you was occupied once more with a worried looking boyfriend who scanned your features as you stared into his eyes. There were a few moments of silence where you were both just looking at each other before he decided to finally speak up. “I’m sorry, baby” he admitted. You sighed and looked into your nearly empty drink, swirling the ice about with your straw. He grabbed your hand lightly and brought it to his mouth placing a tender kiss to the tips of your fingers before continuing. “I shut her down like you asked. Then I removed her and asked for her to be moved to another department, so I never have to see her, on or off the ice.” He used his spare hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear and after a few beats of silence he spoke up again. “Why didn’t you call me when you had no where to stay? What were you gonna do, hm? Sleep in your car?”

This caused you head to snap towards him as you looked at him with a shocked expression. How did he know that? Then before you could open your mouth and ask, he spoke once again, as if reading your mind. “Alyssa called me. But that shouldn’t have been the case. I always want you to call me when you need help, baby. I’m always here for you, just you. always.”

You leaned into him to give him a sweet kiss on his lips. “Thank you” you whispered into the kiss as his placed his hands on your hips, drawing you into an embrace.

He led you out to his car, claiming he would bring you tomorrow to get yours. The drive home was quiet. Quinns hand on your thigh was sending you to sleep and the soft hum of the engine was all that could be heard.

“I forgive you, you know.” You speak up as he quickly glanced over to you, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that. You’ve never given me a reason to be insecure in this relationship. I don’t know why I reacted like that,” you said as you looked ahead, suddenly embarrassed again and crossing your arms over your torso.

“You had every right to be mad, baby. I was up all night angry at myself for letting you walk away and not shutting that girl down straight away like I should have. You were right, and you were entitled to feel insecure, but I need you to know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

You nodded. Deep down you knew that, but past experiences left a small voice in the back of your mind telling you different. There was more silence as he pulled into the carpark of his building. You both made your way through to the lobby and the elevator. On the way up to his level, he pulled you into a kiss and whispered a small ‘I love you’ as he led you into his apartment.

****

hope you enjoyed! Just realising I made her sound like she was homeless at the end lmao

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #boyfriend #he is so babygirl

206 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 7 months

Text

Male gnoll x gn reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

As promised, the modern gnoll story is here!

Content: insecure, squishy, gender and body neutral reader; praise kink from gnoll boy if you squint; penetrative sex, knotting.

There's also very fleeting mention of a young, terminally ill patient passing off-screen. If you want to skip that entirely, skip from: "Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed." to the paragraph beginning: "Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him."

Wordcount: 6934

You stared at the weights rack and felt a bead of sweat roll down your spine that had nothing to do with your previous sets.

This would be the heaviest you’d ever attempted to chest press, and while it might not be much by some people’s standards — that half-orc last week had really put you off your stride by snorting at you, but we can’t all be built like brick fucking walls, can we? — it was more than you’d tried so far. But you were ready. You just… needed someone to spot for you. Just in case. Safety first, and all that.

But the only people in the weights section were the kind of people who, through no real fault of their own, you tended to find nauseatingly intimidating. Like that troll who could probably bench press one of you in each hand. Or that werewolf who was fully shifted and currently on her hundredth(?) chin-up on the bars. Or that gnoll. He’d been doing slow, measured bicep curls for the past five minutes and you’d been trying not to stare at him. Most male gnolls were a bit smaller than their female counterparts, and tended to be less aggressive and competitive in the gym, but this guy was huge.

You must have looked a little too long though, because his dark, rounded ear twitched and he turned his head to look at you. Instead of glaring at you, he offered you a wide, friendly grin that showed off his massive, chunky teeth and made you a bit weak at the knees. Always good to go weak at the joints when you were about to attempt a personal best in the weights section at the gym…

Fuck.

“You ok?” he asked, setting down a dumbbell that was heavy enough to double as a battleship anchor, and you swallowed.

Now or never.

“I…” you croaked and cleared your throat, looking down at the bench and back up at him.

“You want someone to spot for you?” he asked, stepping a little closer. His paws were massive and while he had clothes on — black gym shorts and a big, baggy, white tank top — he wore no shoes. His claws flexed as his dark, smoky brown pads spread to take his weight, and you swallowed again. He had really adorable freckle-like spots up his shaggy legs too.

“If you wouldn’t mind?” you finally managed to squeak.

At that, he beamed at you and gave a gnollish giggle that seemed genuinely pleased. “Happy to.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and took a breath for courage. No going back now.

You lay down on the bench and he came to stand behind the rack. His big, clawed hands hooked under the bar but he didn't take any of its weight as you adjusted your grip and got settled, and prepared to lift it free. He loomed over you, his face serious with concentration. It was a comfort to know he was focused on the task, not gawping around at the other gym-goers. The future integrity of your chest and ribs depended on his concentration if your arms failed you, after all. You had no doubts about his strength though. He really was massive.

Getting your breathing under control, you shoved carefully upwards, and he grinned as you took its weight and began your reps. After five, you felt your arms start to burn, but you pushed on towards ten.

At nine, your muscles shuddered in complaint.

“You’ve got this,” he said in a low, quiet rumble, and it spurred you on to do the last one. You hooked it back in place and met his dark brown eyes. “Nailed it,” he grinned, all teeth and joy. “I reckon you can go up another five kilograms…”

“I’m not sure,” you replied, sitting up carefully and swinging your feet off to one side. The idea of making it heavier seemed overwhelming.

“I’ll spot you again, don’t worry,” he said, reaching for a couple of the smallest weight plates from the rack and slotting them easily onto the end of your bar. “But you definitely had some in the tank. Take a minute, have a drink, and go again.”

His quiet, easy conviction was enviable, but it sparked something in you that had been dormant for a long time. Or maybe it had been smothered into dormancy. Either way, it felt a lot like the echo of self-confidence, though the feeling was unfamiliar these days.

When you set down your water bottle and paused to let your muscles relax after the first set of reps, your eye was caught by a wiry looking goblin doing weighted squats on the far side of the room. She had iron grey hair and looked to be in her sixties or seventies, and you felt the heat of shame flood your cheeks when you realised she was lifting more than you could, at half your height and a fraction of your body-weight.

Seeing where you were looking, the gnoll gave a little snicker and said, “Oh boy, don’t compare yourself to Rose, friend. I’ve seen her outlast full-grown orcs in friendly pull-up competitions, and she can plank for an hour without breaking a sweat. Goblins are made of steel, I swear. Focus on your own journey.”

You laughed, feeling stupidly grateful to him for his kind reassurance.

“Come on. Give it a go?” he said, and you nodded and lay back. “I’ll be here. I won’t let you hurt yourself,” he added.

It was a struggle, but you made it to five before you needed a pause, and he hooked his rough-padded fingers under the bar and took the weight for a second.

“Breathe, and then just five more.”

Somehow when he said it like that, it didn’t seem so bad.

Things got tricky at eight, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through, and when you hit ten and he took it from you, your arms felt like wet noodles, but you’d done it.

“Alright!” he exclaimed as you sat up and cast him a sidelong look. He offered his paw for a high-five, and, embarrassed by his enthusiasm for you, you answered it. The pads of his paws were rough and warm, and his entire hand almost engulfed yours. When you lowered your gaze again, you could just see his little tail wagging back and forth and that finally brought a huge smile to your face. How long had it been since someone was genuinely excited for your achievements?

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit. “That was really kind of you. I’m sorry I interrupted your workout.”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Happy to help, and you smashed it! I’ll leave you to get on, but shout if you need me to spot for you again.”

“Thanks,” you said, but your shyness returned, and you didn’t trouble him again that session.

Three days later, you were back in the gym with your muscles mostly recovered. On the ground floor of the building, there was a huge swimming pool and as you passed the viewing window you could see a couple of humans and a few orcs and perhaps an elf doing serious, focused laps in the swimming lanes, barely making a splash as they powered through the water. This whole ‘fitness drive’ thing was still pretty new to you, and just walking up the stairs into the upper level of the gym where the machines and weights were sparked the same nauseous anxiety in the pit of your stomach that you always experienced at the thought of going to a public gym. You didn’t look like someone who belonged here, with soft edges and extra weight in places it wasn’t conventionally attractive for humans to carry it, and while you weren’t really here to please other people, you were trying to take better care of yourself lately and that, unfortunately, involved exercise.

Your eyes scanned the space and you’d have been lying if you weren’t searching for a flash of honey-coloured fur. There was a large group of orcs messing around in the weights section, so you bailed and headed blindly for the nearest cardio machine, heart pounding in a way that made you want to throw up.

“Guess I’m running today,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped automatically up onto the treadmill. Panic had made you go to this one, and you thought you’d probably look even more stupid if you changed your mind now.

After an overly-long warm-up walk, you cranked it to something manageable and felt your body complain already. You made it to about one kilometre before you had to stop. Deciding to pretend you’d always intended to use it merely as a way to loosen up, you hit the ‘stop’ button and ignored its friendly advice to do a cool down, grabbing your water bottle from the holder and turning around to see if there was enough room in the weights area for you to slink in and do a few reps.

And there, looking at you across the room, was the gnoll from before.

Your heart flip-flopped in your chest, first with delight and then with horror as you realised he must have seen you lumbering away on the treadmill. Fuck.

But when he met your eye, he grinned, showing all his teeth, and he waved. You smiled back, and wove your way through the bristling array of cardio machines to join him.

“Hey,” he said, scratching behind one large ear with his right paw. “I wasn’t sure if you were a regular… I kind of thought I might never see you again.”

“No, I’m usually wheezing away in a corner at around this time every few days,” you snorted.

He didn’t laugh at your self-deprecating humour though, and instead turned his muzzle towards the weights. “You need someone to spot for you again?”

You bit your lip. “Yeah, I guess. You can be my cheerleader again too if you like,” you added with a spur-of-the-moment burst of bravery.

“Gladly,” he giggled, tail wagging back and forth. “You wanna do a few warm up rounds first? I just got here, so I’m kind of cold anyway.”

As before, when you were ready, he came over and stood at the head of the bench, hands ready to catch the bar. It was harder to concentrate this time round, with him looming over you. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, though he had that distinctive hunch that gnolls’ unique biology lent to their kind where werewolves were more upright.

When he took the bar from you at the end of your first set of reps, his fingers brushed yours and you nearly gasped at how velvet-soft his fur was. “Thank you,” you said, and as you sat up to take your short break, you introduced yourself by name.

“I’m Cade,” he replied, and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

Conscious that your palms were probably super sweaty, you tried not to flush hot and make it even worse, and you slid your hand into his. Again, the size of him was striking, and you felt something in your core tighten and start to tingle at the sight of it, let alone the feel of his paw flexing around your hand. His claws were dark and neatly rounded and you wondered what he did for a living. Most gnolls — not that you knew any personally — seemed to have active, outdoorsy jobs, but there was something about him that made you curious.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, and you got back to it with a shy smile. “Ah, come on. It’s not that bad, is it? You might even learn to love it soon.”

“It’s better with company,” you admitted as you took the weight of the bar and looked up just in time to watch his face go from serious to delighted at the compliment. “Not sure I’ll ever come to love it though. Not the way you seem to.”

He grinned and giggled gnollishly — the sound high and bright and a little silly coming from someone so intimidatingly built — and you couldn’t help the way your heart felt a little lighter and your body a little more energised. “I did consider changing careers to become a personal trainer for a while,” he said while you started to count your second set.

“Oh?” You didn’t have the breath to ask anything more articulate, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Mm. I just enjoy helping people out, I guess.”

“What do you do now for work?” you asked in a bit of a garbled rush between reps six and seven.

“I’m a paediatric nurse,” he said, and you nearly dropped the bar on your chest. He reached down and snatched it before it had even dropped an inch, and he shot you a look. “Don’t worry, I’m used to that reaction,” he said with a wink. “I was expecting it.”

“Sorry,” you said. Jeez, what a charmer. “I just… I wouldn’t have thought… you know… I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” he said. “Come on, get to ten and I’ll tell you the rest.”

You pushed through the last three and he took the bar and rested it on its hooks, allowing you to sit up with thrumming muscles in your shoulders and arms. You stretched out and twisted your neck to look up at him from your seat on the bench.

“We have a bad reputation still,” he sighed, “But actually, traditionally, male gnolls are the caretakers in our clans. Historically, the females did all the fighting and protecting, and we raised the cubs and taught them the basics before they went on to train with the females.” He shot you a cheeky look and added, “Statistically, male gnolls are the least likely of almost all species to be aggressive, so despite appearances, we make perfect caretakers. The kids at the hospital love me, once they get past the teeth and the size.”

“I can see why,” you said faintly.

Cade pulled a wide smile and eyed the bar. “Go for three sets this time?”

You did, and when you were done, you thanked him, and then headed to grab a kettle bell to do some other exercises. If both of you kept sneaking glances at each other for the rest of your session, well, at least it wasn’t just you.

Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed. You’d been doing some lower-weight dead lifts, and as you set the bar down on the mat you watched all the joy bleed out of him; his tail bristled high and stiff, his ears swivelled back almost flat against his head, and his big brown eyes went wide with distress.

“Shit, now?” he hissed, turning away from you. “Fuck. Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can. No, don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me. Ok, I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up, took a deep breath, and then slowly looked over his shoulder at you. “I… I have to go. I’m sorry. Don’t try any more without someone to spot for you, ok?”

You nodded. “You alright?”

He bit his lip and shook his head. “No, not really. One of my patients is… Uh… Yeah. Not long left, apparently.”

“Oh shit, Cade,” you said, crossing to him. You laid your hand on his fluffy forearm and squeezed the solid muscle beneath your fingers. He seemed to relax just a fraction at that. “You need someone to give you a lift to the hospital? My car’s outside.”

Again, he bit his lip and then nodded. “You wouldn’t mind? I was gonna get the bus.”

You shook your head. “Of course not. Let’s go.”

He was mostly silent for the journey, his knee bouncing as he sat crammed into in the front of your car, but when you approached the main entrance to the hospital, he said, “You can just use the drop-off at the front. Thank you again. I’ll… I’ll see you around, ok?”

You nodded and reached for his arm again. “Take care of yourself.”

He smiled, gave a low rumbling noise that you’d never heard him make before, and then climbed out and strode into the hospital without a backward glance. You looked down at the seat and found a fair few golden hairs stuck to the fabric, and didn’t have the heart to brush them away.

Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him. Your mood was decidedly flat as you stepped out into the fresh night air and tried to plaster on a smile when your best friend uncoiled his muscular, python’s tail from the back of the taxi that was waiting at the curb and flung his arms around you. His dark brown skin had a pearlescent shimmer to it and his long, thick brown hair was plaited into a thick braid that hung down his spine. He wore a glittery, black shirt studded with a rainbow of rhinestones that matched the iridescent gleam that seemed to hover over his snake’s tail too, and he had the most exquisitely neat makeup on that you’d ever seen.

“Gods, Mal, you look incredible,” you wheezed as he hugged you.

“You look good too, sweetheart,” he grinned back. “Any sign of your delicious little puppy at the gym today? No, of course not. If there had been, you wouldn’t looked like a kicked puppy yourself. Come on. It’s my birthday. You’re not allowed to mope,” he said, and he practically bundled you into the back of the taxi before going round to the other side and piling in beside you.

He gave the driver the name of the club, and the car set off.

“There’ll be so many beautiful people there tonight, you’ll forget all about this gnoll of yours, I swear,” he practically purred in your ear, and you tried to smile.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” you said, and you drew an envelope from your clutch and handed it to him.

He frowned. “What’s this? We don’t do cards or presents anymore, sweetie,” he scowled, but he did look secretly pleased.

“Couldn’t resist this one,” you shrugged.

The card was nothing very special, just a lame joke about not throwing a hissy fit on your birthday, but it predictably made Mal groan and roll his eyes. “Really, darling? Didn’t we get over the reptile jokes in kindergarten?”

You did manage to muster a heartfelt smirk at that, and waved your hand. “I couldn’t resist,” you said again.

“You’re awful. I love you so much,” he laughed, and tugged you into a sideways hug in his arms. “You’re the only person I tolerate this kind of shit from, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

For a long moment, Mal held you and then he let you go and sighed softly. “I want you to be happy, you know?” he said. “You’ve been, like… ‘background miserable’ for ages.”

“I’ll try,” you said. It had been easier until Cade had vanished.

The club was packed already, but Mal dragged you to the front of the line and the two of you were admitted like celebrities and shown to the VIP area of the club. Perks of being with the brother of the owner, you supposed. Yves came over to greet you and his brother and to wish Mal a happy birthday. His present, it turned out, was unlimited drinks for the two of you all night.

For an hour, you and Mal chatted and drank leisurely, and watched the people out on the dance floor that was slightly below your booth, but just as Mal slithered with enviable elegance off the bench and started to make his way towards the dance floor, dragging you along with him, you caught sight of the familiar shape of a gnoll’s ears and froze so abruptly that your hands were torn from Mal’s grip.

“What, Sweets?”

You frowned, trying to make out the figure that was across the space, apparently also being dragged by his friends onto the floor. It was him. It was Cade. You had to laugh, and just as you did, he looked up.

His jaw dropped and he fell utterly still as well, then he laughed and shook his head.

“No way,” Mal breathed, now leaning in to hiss in your ear. “That’s him?”

“Yeah,” you said, and as Cade joined you, Mal — the cheeky shit that he was — gave you a solid shove between your shoulder blades.

You stumbled forwards and Cade shot his hands out to catch you before you planted face-first onto the dance floor. You whipped around the moment he had steadied you, and shot Mal the most venomous glare you could, and then turned back to Cade. “Thanks,” you yelled above the music. “My meddling best friend isn’t exactly known for his subtlety.”

“It’s ok,” Cade chuckled. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I haven’t made it to the gym lately. You find someone to spot for you?”

You shook your head and realised you were still holding his forearms. He hadn’t let go either, so neither did you. “How are you doing? I was worried about you when I didn’t see you after… you know…”

He bowed his head in understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d worry about me, if I’m honest. I’m good. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, even if it was still really sad. It’s part of the job sometimes though. It’s… It’s not my first. But I’m not here to mope.”

“Why are you here then?” you asked, squeezing his forearm gently as someone knocked into you from the side. “You look about as comfortable as I am in places like this…”

His ears were pricked as far forward as they could go, straining like satellite dishes to catch your words above the thundering music, and the urge to make an inhuman squeak rose up your throat like a physical presence. For someone so huge and muscular, he had no right to look so heartbreakingly cute.

“My friends’ house purchase went through so they decided to celebrate and drag me out with them. You?”

“Mal's birthday. His brother owns the club, so we’ve had free drinks for the night.”

“Nice,” Cade laughed. “You want to dance?”

You did, but it wasn’t something you were any good at. Then again, looking around you, there weren’t many you’d have said were actually dancing. Shyly, you managed a nod, and he grinned at you again, and held out both paws. You slid your hands into them and he exhaled, his chest falling noticeably.

“What?”

“You’re so small,” he said. “I… I’m so afraid I’m going to crush you all the time.”

“You won’t,” you smiled, and stepped even closer to him. Close enough to smell the soft musk that rose from his fur. Close enough to see the lights reflected in his coffee-dark eyes and watch the way the pale whiskers on his dark muzzle splayed wide with his anticipation. In the lights you noticed that the white trim of fur along the outer edge of his ears looked like a fine line of silver. “You’re really beautiful, Cade,” you whispered, certain that the music would drown your words, but he pulled his dark lips back in a broad grin and dipped his head shyly.

He turned you in his arms so that your back was to his chest and he stepped a little closer, moving his hands to your waist. You tried to fight the self-consciousness that roared to life like a wildfire in your mind, and when he felt you tense, he leaned down and murmured in your ear, “Is this alright?”

You nodded and leaned back into him, looking up at his pale throat and chest. It was a surprisingly familiar view by now after your sessions in the gym. He was wearing loose jeans that ended at the knee, the way many non-humans did, and he had a black t-shirt on that fitted his muscular frame beautifully. His red-gold mane melted into the dark fur of his ears and the creamy underside of his chin and neck, and you wanted to melt against him and have him hold you forever.

“Yes,” you exhaled. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”

“We can go however slow you like, but you should know I like you,” he said in a low, inviting rumble. He pressed his cold nose carefully against your cheek and then nuzzled you with his jaw. “A lot. Gods, you smell amazing,” he blurted, as if he couldn't help himself.

That self-conscious heat evolved into something entirely different, and pure want coursed through you instead. You ached again and your body seemed to prickle all over with desire.

His hands drifted a fraction lower, to frame your hips, and his fingers dug into your soft flesh. Above the music you heard him give a long, deep lowing sound; primal and visceral and honest in its appreciation, and it made you shiver.

You lost track of time as you danced together. It wasn’t so much ‘dancing’ as ‘sharing the same space and touching wherever you could both get away with it before it became completely indecent’.

At one point, when you’d turned to face him again, someone nudged into you from behind and a hand wandered over your back, and you flinched closer to Cade. He pulled his lips back and showed all his teeth, and the human who had wandered too close to your corner of paradise shied away with hands raised.

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type,” you said, and Cade growled at you instead.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I am protective. If you want to leave here with someone else tonight instead of me, I won’t stop you.”

“I don’t want to,” you said, placing your hand on the centre of his chest. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go home with you tonight either, but I do want your number and I do want to see you again.”

He smiled, and drew his phone from his back pocket. He twitched his muzzle towards the edge of the dance floor and then offered you his palm, leading you through the jostling crowd towards a quieter spot and shielding you with the bulk of his body when you had to force your way through the crush. You exchanged numbers, and then he looked over your shoulder and said, “Your friend is coming over.”

You turned to find Mal easing his way around the edge of the dance floor. He was moving slowly, carefully, the way he did when he was very drunk and trying not to show it. “Ah, man, I’ll have to get him home safely,” you sighed. “I guess this is goodbye for now.”

Cade nodded. “I’ll see you both to a cab if you like.”

“You are protective,” you chuckled.

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

“No, you’re not,” you smiled. “If you like, you can get on the other side of Mal and see that he doesn’t slither off somewhere.”

The two of you wrangled a very curious and very obvious Mal into the back of a cab, and Cade came to stand with his hands on your waist. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his ears tilted back in a perfect display of meek shyness.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

He lowered his head and brought his muzzle to your lips. His mouth was soft against yours and he pressed his lips against you and then let the very tip of his tongue lave over your lips while his rough hands rose to cup your jawline and hold your face delicately. Cade didn’t spend long kissing you, since it was evident that this was a human gesture for which his body was not really built, but he did move to nuzzle your cheek with the velvet fur of his muzzle before stepping back and breathing out a long sigh.

Before he could say anything sweet or romantic, Mal opened the door and half his tail spilled back out onto the tarmac, and he cursed. “Fuck. I just wanted to say to hurry the fuck up because I’m cold and drunk and I don’t want to sit the back of this cab any longer than I have to,” he slurred, his forked tongue thick with drink. “Sorry,” he tacked on a little late.

Cade chuckled and helped you tuck Mal’s python tail back into the car for a second time, and you shook your head. “I’m so sorry,” you said, and squeezed his arm. “I’ll see you at the gym? And I’ll text you.”

He nodded, and you got in to the taxi next to Mal and shot him a flat look. “That was not cool,” you said. “You only get a free pass because it’s your birthday.”

And with that, you told the driver his address, and then, when Mal was safely inside and a little more sober, you headed home.

A text was waiting from Cade but you saved it for when you were finally ready for bed, and as you lay there in the dark, you opened your messages with a little trepidation.

>> You looked so beautiful tonight. I was *this* close to not going out tonight, but I’m so glad I did. I hope you got back ok and that the birthday boy isn’t going to suffer too much. I’ll be at the gym tomorrow. Perhaps we can grab a coffee somewhere afterwards if you’re going to be around? Night, and sleep well. C x <<

You read it through four times before you replied, and after that, you saw each other every day for a fortnight solid.

It started with coffee after the gym and then progressed to drinks, and then drinks and a snack, and then dinner, and then dinner and a movie, and then dinner and the same movie again because there was nothing else on that you wanted to watch, and then dinner and a stroll along the riverbank while the city lights twinkled around you. Finally, after two weeks of meeting every day, he took your hands in his and kissed you silly on one of the bridges over the river.

He nuzzled you afterwards and let out all these delicious, gnollish noises that made your heart skip and dance and skitter around like a trapped bird in your ribcage.

“I want you,” you gasped as he leaned you back a little way and closed his mouth around your neck, raking his teeth oh so gently across your skin. He froze, and then drew back.

“You mean it?” he asked in an equally soft voice. His dark eyes were huge and his ears frankly adorable as they swivelled first back against his head in uncertainty and then pricked forwards in undeniable hope. His tail rose high and fluffy behind him and you giggled softly.

“Yes, I mean it,” you laughed. “I want you.”

“Now?”

“Not ‘now on this bridge’,” you snorted. “Now as in tonight. Now as in take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Whose is closer?” you asked in a decidedly hoarse voice.

He paused. “Mine, probably.”

“Then let’s go there.”

He held your hand all the way there, and stopped at least five more times to nuzzle you and kiss you.

You’d been to his a couple of times before during your whirlwind courtship, but you’d only cuddled on the sofa while eating popcorn and watching reruns of your favourite shows. This time, you didn't bother with the sofa.

You kicked off your shoes at the door and he backed you towards the bedroom, growling and making those delicious, low-frequency lowing sounds in a constant, rumbling song. He loomed over you, but you grinned up at him and tugged at the lower hem of his black t-shirt.

He tore it off over his head to reveal the coarse, ivory fur of his chest and throat, and you reached for him, watching as your fingers disappeared into it. He growled — actually growled — when you scrunched your fingers and tugged experimentally, and you looked up at him again. He was panting softly, eyes half-lidded with his muzzle tilted upwards a fraction.

“Bed. Now,” you said in an unusually assertive voice.

Cade gasped and then simply picked you up by the hips. You looped your legs around his middle and let him carry you into his bedroom, where he deposited you carefully onto the bed and leaned down over you. It didn’t take you long to discard your clothes and he stared at you in wonder when you lay back again.

He was hard and as he rutted through his jeans against your thigh, you arched your back off the bed and moaned. “Now, Cade. Please.”

You ached all over and you’d never been this turned on in all your life. Every nerve ending seemed to have been dialled up to eleven and every time his rough paws skimmed over your skin, you gasped and jerked and groaned.

“So sensitive,” he purred, leaning back to undo his jeans and cast them aside. His boxers came next, and you tried not to stare at the size of him. You hoped you could take him.

He knelt between your legs and gently bit and mouthed his way up your inner thighs before closing his mouth over you and letting his tongue savour you. It should have been unnerving to have the most powerful jaws of almost any creature on land so close to where you were most delicate, but it sent a thrill up your spine instead. He moved his head between your legs and you let your hand rest between his ears, guiding his pace and taming his ardour a little.

Cade drew back, his eyes glassy and his muzzle wet with a combination of your arousal and his drool, and he rasped, “You taste incredible.”

“I want to come with you inside me,” you moaned. “I want you to knot me, Cade.”

His eyes fluttered and rolled at that and he gripped his cock in one hand as though trying to stave off his own orgasm already. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck, that’s about the hottest thing you could have said to me. I’m really not gonna last long now. Oh fuck, I can already feel —”

“Cade, inside me. Now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Cade…” There was a growl to your voice too.

His cock was leaking all over his hand, all over the back of his fingers, and he wasn’t even working himself. You weren’t going to need any extra help to ease him inside you, but you were going to need him to take it gently.

“Slowly,” you warned as he lined himself up. He nodded, looking nervous and earnest.

The tip of his cock nudged inside you and you groaned and lay back, enjoying the huge stretch of him. Cade, meanwhile, bit back a curse and began to shake all over.

“I can’t,” he gasped. “Please… I…”

“Keep going,” you said, sounding gloriously winded already and he was only a little way inside you. “Don’t stop.”

The gnoll let out a long, lowing groan and then braced himself on both arms. You drew your knees up to help him and he began to pant again. “Fuck,” he cursed as he eased himself further inside you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I can’t I’m… I’m going to come… fuck, you’re tight. Oh fuck, beautiful, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you crooned, though the seduction in your voice was a little strangled by the intensity of the stretch as he eased almost all the way into you. “You can wait for me, I know you can. You’re so good; you’re so kind, Cade. You’re going to make this amazing for me, I know you are…”

At the string of praise, his heavy jaws parted to show all his thick, sharp teeth and he began to shake with the effort of not plunging into you in a single stroke until finally, finally, he was seated inside you to the hilt of his cock.

“See?” you said, reaching for the ruff around his neck and threading your fingers into the depths of the soft fur.

He keened and began to rock his hips. “Please… Please can I move now?”

“Yes, Cade. Let me feel all of you inside me.”

What began as a slow, careful slide of his huge cock inside you hastened to a desperate rhythm in minutes. His hips snapped against yours and you felt the weight of his balls as they rocked against you with each thrust. Cade was whining with each stroke, and you realised that the delicious stretch was growing, and each time he withdrew, it was a little less far.

“You’re going to knot me, aren’t you?” you gasped, drawing your knees up even further so that he hit you just-so with the tip of his cock at the apex of each desperate thrust.

“Mmnn,” he whimpered. “Fuck. I’m so close. You’re so gorgeous. Been thinking about this since… since we danced. Gods, I wanted to fuck you that night. Came all over myself when I got home. Popped a knot and everything, oh fuck, oh fuck you’re so tight I’m going to come, I’m so close, I’m going to come, can I come? Please let me come, beautiful, please let me fill you —”

His babbling, rambling pleas devolved into another gnollish low and he threw his head back, picking up the desperate pace. His hands grabbed your hips and his claws pricked your skin as he pulled you further onto his growing knot with every thrust. Delirious pleasure coursed through you and you barely had the presence of mind left to give him the permission he clearly craved.

“Yes, come for me,” you slurred. “Come inside me, Cade. Fill me —”

With a roar, his hips snapped against yours one last time and his whole body locked up. His lips pulled back from his huge teeth into a rictus of ecstasy and his eyes rolled as he came in huge, shuddering waves, lost to the pleasure of your body as his knot finally swelled to fill you and the sensation of it tipped you over the edge as well. As your body clenched around him, he cursed again and tugged you somehow even further onto his knot. His hips spasmed against you and you could feel him emptying himself into you in waves.

It was a long time before he stopped coming, and even with his knot plugging you tight, you felt some of his come start to leak out around you already, spilling down your thighs and onto the sheet. “Fuck,” he hissed again, and his body went suddenly slack, though his chest was still heaving for breath.

He fell forwards over you and braced himself at the last second on his forearms. You lowered your legs and he grunted as the movement jolted his over-sensitive knot, but you stayed there for a long time.

Gradually, your breathing settled into the same rhythm and your heartbeats slowed, and a leaden satisfaction descended into your whole body. You felt full, and cherished as he held you.

You lost track of time as you lay there together, but finally his knot receded and you felt a lot more of his come start to slide down your thighs. “Making a mess,” you mumbled from where you were half-buried by the soft fur near his ear.

“Mmph.”

“If you’re expecting me to have put on enough muscle to chest press you off me, you’re sorely mistaken,” you quipped, and to your joy, he gave a delighted, gnollish giggle and lifted his head enough to regard you with his slightly unfocused, dark brown eyes.

“You’re really something,” he said, and he let his pink tongue just grace the tip of your nose. “You sore? You want me to run you a bath?”

“Oof, yes please,” you smiled. No one had ever offered to do that for you after sex, and you were indeed a little sore from where he’d stretched you further than anyone ever had.

He lifted himself off you carefully, withdrawing from you and giving a little grunt as his softening cock slid free. He sat back on his haunches and ran his thumbs over the curve of your thighs, staring at where you knew you were probably gaping a bit. It was hard not to feel embarrassment until he murmured, “You’re exquisite.”

Cade leaned over you and fondly raked his upper and lower teeth over the soft flesh of your thigh before laving his tongue over your skin and then finally standing on shaky legs. “Been a while since I came like that,” he admitted shyly as he staggered towards the door. “Think I might skip leg day tomorrow and just chill out here.”

“I’ll join you,” you said. “I may never regain feeling in my legs.”

“I’ll carry you around anyway,” he grinned as he left and went to run the bath.

True to his word, Cade did carry you around his apartment the next day, and your feet barely touched the ground from the moment you woke to the moment you fell asleep in his bed for the second night in a row.

You weren’t exactly complaining though. It was heaven.

I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#gnoll #gnoll x reader #male gnoll #male gnoll x reader #gender neutral reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend

322 notes · View notes

octoberclidan · 1 year

Text

I've Got You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: While out on a hunt in a snowy forest, reader (she/her) falls through some ice and Dean has to rescue her from the freezing water. They's also exes who did not end on good terms. They have to keep each other warm while they wait for Cas and Sam to find them.

Note: this was written by myself for myself; there are probably mistakes. My first language is English but I'm not American, so it may sound weird in places if you happen to be American reading it. If you do happen to come across this and spend time reading it, I hope you enjoy it somewhat!

Masterlist

Story:

"Alright, so Cas is gonna meet me to talk to the local sheriff and then the coroner. From the news reports it sounds like a werewolf, missing hearts, pretty standard, but we're going to double check. You and [Y/N] good to go visit the family of the latest victim?" Sam was sitting at a small table with his laptop in the motel room with Dean and [Y/N]. There was definitely some tension in the room. Dean and [Y/N] had known each other for years, and had once been in as close a relationship as Dean had ever been with someone. They had loved each other, [Y/N] had even semi-moved in to Dean's room in the bunker two years ago. It all came crashing down just over a year ago after a bad hunt that led to an argument that led to Dean throwing all of [Y/N]'s belongings out of his room and shouting at her to get out of the bunker. She did just that, she left and hadn't set foot back in the bunker since.

"Why do I get stuck with her? I can go with Cas and you can go with her instead, she's your friend". Dean whined and [Y/N] rolled her eyes, he sounded close to throwing a temper tantrum.

"Dean, the last time you paired up with Cas you brought him to a bar and tried to see how much alcohol it would take to get him drunk, getting drunk yourself in the meantime instead of working on the case. You two never get anything done. And I don't want to pair up with you either, you've been complaining like a toddler all day".

"So I have to deal with him instead?" [Y/N] crossed her arms, glaring at Sam. "Who put you in charge?"

"[Y/N] please, can we just keep things civil?"

"Sam you called me and asked me to come on this case with you. You said Dean wouldn't be here and that you and Cas could use an extra hand".

"I know, I didn't think he would be here, he was supposed to be visiting Jody for the week".

"Uh can you two stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here?".

"Are you capable of acting like an adult?" [Y/N] turned her glare from Sam to Dean.

"Are you?" Dean glared back at her.

Sam shook his head at the juvenile behaviour that both of them were guilty of. Dean was supposed to be on a case with Jody, but she had cancelled it when it turned out to not be anything supernatural. Sam had already picked up this werewolf case, so Dean coming along was a bit last-minute, and [Y/N] was already on her way to the motel to meet Sam so it was too late to tell her that Dean was coming. She found out when she knocked on the door and Dean answered, evidently Sam had failed to inform him of her involvement in the case too judging by his reaction. Ever since their break-up, they had avoided each other like the plague. [Y/N] would meet up with Sam on small hunts or just to hang out, but every time he suggested going back to the bunker she refused.

"Don't start that Dean". [Y/N] warned him.

"Start what?".

"Treating me like a child, you know that's what started this whole thing".

"I wouldn't have to treat you like a child if you didn't act like one".

"Fuck you Winchester".

"Okay! Okay, that's enough". Sam jumped up from his seat and stood between the two of them, afraid that letting them go on any longer would end in tears. "Right now you are both acting like children. Please, just go to the victim's house, interview the family, and then we can meet back here. Are either of you capable of acting like adults long enough to do that?" They both rolled their eyes and mumbled a "yes". They missed each other doing it but Sam saw both of them. It amused him just how similar they were. He hoped that maybe they would be able to talk things through with some quality time alone. Maybe they would be able to tolerate each other enough for [Y/N] to visit the bunker again. Sam missed their movie nights and he knew Dean did too, even if he wouldn't admit it.

***

[Y/N] glued her gaze to the snow falling outside of the impala's passenger window the entire ride to the victim's house, not risking accidentally making eye contact with Dean. Dean on the other hand risked many glances in her direction. She had changed a bit since the last time he saw her; her hair was slightly longer, there was a new, small scar on her chin, and she looked like she'd been working out. Dean couldn't help but thinking that she looked good. He quickly turned on the radio to drown out his thoughts, he didn't need to be thinking anything desirable about [Y/N]. He tried to keep his focus on the road ahead, not able to drive as fast as he usually would due to the low visibility. The road was narrow and winding, cloaked by trees either side and covered in patches of ice.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hit the steering wheel out of frustration while the car slowed down to a stop. Finally, [Y/N] looked away from the side window and looked out the front to see why Dean had stopped in the middle of the road, but she couldn't see anything but the road in front of them.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I didn't, the car stopped"

"What, you're out of gas? Why would you not fill up before the case?"

"I did, we're not out of gas, the tank's nearly full".

"Something wrong with the car? I thought you loved this thing more than anything, not keeping up the maintenance these days?"

"Would you shut up for five fucking minutes? Baby is not a 'thing' and she's perfect, there's nothing wrong with her". [Y/N] rolled her eyes at Dean's personification of the Impala and pushed her door open, stepping out onto icy road. She walked around the car, looking for any damage or any reason for why it stopped, trying carefully not to slip on the ice while Dean tried repeatedly to restart the Impala. It had definitely become colder since leaving the motel; it was getting dark and the snow was getting heavier. After several failed attempts at restarting, Dean also got out of the car, and opened up the hood to have a look at the engine.

"Find anything?" [Y/N] asked, wrapping her arms around herself and trying not to shiver too much. She had a coat, but hadn't worn a hat or scarf, not intending on being outdoors for any length of time.

"There's nothing visibly wrong with the engine, but it won't start."

"Okay, s-so what n-now?" [Y/N] was shivering now, Dean shook his head still staring at the engine. "I'm getting b-back inside, it's c-cold as shit out here". [Y/N] slid back into the Impala which was already cooling down. She searched around for the blanket that used to be kept on the back bench but she couldn't find it. Bouncing her legs to try and keep warm, she stared out of the front window. Dean had stood up and his face was just about visible over the car's hood. [Y/N] hadn't really spent any time properly looking at him that day, but now that she wasn't arguing with him, she couldn't help but soften at the look of focus and concentration on his face as he scanned his eyes over the engine again. She thought he had gained a few more freckles, maybe another crease on the side of his eyes. He looked good.

Dean closed the hood and routed his hand around inside his pocket before letting out a frustrated groan, and walked around to the driver's side, opening the door and leaning in to look at [Y/N]. "Can you call Sam? My phone must be back at the motel".

"Of course you forgot it, wouldn't be like you to remember something important". [Y/N] looked away before she could see Dean's reaction to her jab, and pulled out her phone. "Shit. No signal, great".

"We're gonna have to get out and walk then".

"Walk where? We're in the middle of nowhere". [Y/N] gestured out the window at the surrounding trees.

"So you wanna stay here all night in a car that won't start, with no heating, hope that Sammy or Cas realise we're missing, and manage to find us, all before we freeze to death?"

"Fine, I'll walk until I find some signal, I'll call Sam, and ask him to come get us".

"I'm coming with you".

"No you are not".

"[Y/N]". Dean groaned, wiping his hand down his face. "You're not wandering off on your own, I won't let you".

"We're not doing this again Dean. You don't get to 'let' me do anything. Have you seriously forgotten what happened the last time you didn't 'let' me go off on my own?"

"Can we not have this conversation [Y/N]? We're going to end up freezing".

[Y/N] opened the door and got out of the car before looking at Dean over the roof. "You can come with me if we do have this conversation, it's long overdue".

Begrudgingly, Dean agreed, and the two of them set off down into the forest at the side of the road in search of a clearing where the phone might pick up a signal. "So that night, can you see what you did wrong now?" [Y/N] asked Dean, stepping ahead of him not quite wanting to look at him while having this conversation. She had already had this conversation in her head a thousand times since their break-up, she'd even had the conversation with Sam once or twice to get his opinion.

"I didn't do anything wrong, it was a shit situation with a shit ending".

"We had a plan. You, me, Sam, we had a plan and you went against it and put us all in danger".

"I was trying to keep you safe".

"You didn't think I was capable of taking out two vamps on my own. I was supposed to take out the two in the back of the warehouse, and you and Sam were supposed to take out the five in the front. You fucking left Sam to take on FIVE vampires on his own to come follow me and 'help' me with my two. You messed up my attack, I didn't know you were behind me and you ruined my ambush on them. I would've been able to take them out in five minutes and then gone to help you and Sam if you haven't gone blundering in and complicating everything. I got stabbed because of you Dean, because you messed up. And while you were trying to stop me bleeding, you completely forgot about Sam. You left him alone and he nearly died. You nearly got us both killed because you couldn't let me go unsupervised for five minutes, you didn't trust me. You left your brother to die. If Cas hadn't shown up when he had you'd have lost everything."

Dean glared at the back of [Y/N]'s head. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't regret that decision every fucking day? I loved you [Y/N]. You and Sam were the two most important things in the world to me. I couldn't let you go off on your own, and yes, in that moment I chose you over Sam. I trained Sam myself, I know what he can and can't handle. You... the thought of you fighting on your own was something I couldn't do. I chose you, over Sam, and I can't do that [Y/N]. I have to protect him, it's been my job my entire life. Having you in my life put Sam at risk because I had to choose between you on hunts, and he nearly died. I couldn't live with myself if I chose someone over him and he died because of it."

[Y/N] began to angrily speed up her walking, trying to get more than a few steps ahead of Dean. "God Dean, this is like Gadreel all over again. It wasn't your choice to make! You make a plan as a group, agree to it, then you follow it. You don't deviate from it just because you don't trust someone to make the decisions you want them to make! Sam can make his own choices, I can make my own choices, and we're both adults. We're both experienced hunters who can fight and we're both more than capable of looking after ourselves. You don't need to choose one of us, you just need to learn how to work as a group and follow plans".

Dean stopped in his tracks. "[Y/N] stop".

"No, just because it's not what you want to hear-"

"[Y/N] STOP MOVING". Dean shouted at her. She froze, suddenly realising why Dean told her to stop. The snow she was standing on was no longer on top of solid ground, it was on top of ice, and it was creaking under her feet. She tried to steady her breathing but she was starting to panic.

"What do I do?" She almost whispered, afraid that noise would disturb the ice.

"Okay, you're okay, just slowly turn around and face me".

"Dean I don't know how thick this ice is or how deep the water below is, what if it breaks?"

"You can't stay there [Y/N], you're gonna have to turn around and slowly make your way back here, you're only about 10 or 11 feet away from the edge".

[Y/N] took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she turned on the spot to face Dean. She looked down at his feet and she could now see the obvious transition between the ground and the ice that she missed, it didn't seem too far away from where she was standing. Slowly, she moved her left foot forward, and pulled her right foot after her, there was no cracking sound.

"Just keep going like that, nice and slowly". Dean encouraged her, standing as close to the edge as he could, arms slightly outstretched towards her. She took another step with her left foot, but when she leaned on it to pull her right foot, the ice groaned under her. She froze again, waiting for the creaking to stop. Eventually, after a few more deep breaths, she lifted her right foot again, pulling it forward, but before she could put it down again the ice groaned even louder than it had before. Neither of them had any time to react before the ice cracked, and [Y/N] disappeared beneath the surface. Dean began frantically shouting her name, but there was no sign of her coming up. Tearing off his jacket and rolling up his flannel's sleeves, he rushed forward onto the ice.

Dean made it to the hole that [Y/N] had disappeared through and looked around for any sign of her, but the water was too dark to see. He leaned forward, pushing both of his arms through the freezing water, feeling around from her. His arms found her, and he pulled her back out. She was unconscious, and he couldn't tell if she was breathing or not, he needed to get her back to the ground. He hooked his arms under hers and began to drag her backwards, he heard the ice cracking but instead of slowing down he sped up. The hole that [Y/N] had fallen into began to grow, with chunks of ice coming loose and beginning to float apart on the water. Finally, Dean managed to get them both back to the shore of what now looked like a lake, and he lay [Y/N] on her back, leaning down to listen for breathing or a heartbeat.

Dean sighed in relief when he heard breathing, though it was laboured and she was clearly struggling. He sat her up and started to hit her back, trying to get her to cough up whatever water she had breathed in. After a few whacks, she coughed up and gasped, her eyes shooting open and looking all around her. She found Dean and grabbed his flannel in her hand.

"You're okay, I've got you, just breathe". Dean's whacks on her back had turned into soothing rubs, trying to encourage her to calm down. He grabbed the coat he had shrugged off and draped it over her shoulders as she began to shiver violently, her wet clothes and hair clinging to her body. "Come on, we need to get you warmed up". He slid his arms under her knees and around her shoulders, and lifted her to his chest. She still had a fistful of his flannel clenched between her fingers, and she tried to curl into him as much as she could to get close to his warmth. She was far too cold and tired from struggling under the water to protest against the fact that he was carrying her.

Luckily they hadn't strayed too far from the car, and Dean opened the backseat, setting [Y/N] down and she whined from the loss of his body heat. He began to undo her shoe laces and take off her socks. "W-what are you d-doing?" She managed to get out from behind chattering teeth.

"We need to get you out of these clothes, they're soaking wet from freezing water, if you stay in them you'll definitely end up with hypothermia".

"I d-don't want you t-to see m-me"

"We don't have time for that Sweetheart, this is your life we're talking about. You can keep my coat on, okay? That's dry. Everything else needs to come off. [Y/N] gave in, she wasn't really thinking straight but she knew Dean only had her safety on his mind. She tried to help him take off her jeans and her wet coat but her fingers were numb and she couldn't get them to move.

"S-sorry, f-fingers are n-numb"

"Shh, don't worry about that, just let me get you warmed up okay?"

"My phone, i-it must be r-ruined from the w-water".

Dean managed to get her clothes off before putting his dry coat back around her. Her shivering was starting to die down but he knew she wasn't warm enough to not shiver, she was starting to show signs of hypothermia. Her eyelids began to close, the tiredness starting to take over.

"Hey, hey [Y/N]". Dean tapped her cheek. "You have to stay awake for me until you warm up okay?" She managed to open her eyes and nod at him. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to take my clothes off too, you'll lie on top of me, and we'll put my dry clothes and coat on top of us. We're just going to have to wait for Sam and Cas to notice that we haven't come back yet, they know we took this road anyway. Are you okay with us doing that?"

[Y/N] nodded, holding his coat around herself tightly and tried to look away to give Dean some privacy of his own as he stripped down to his boxers. He lay back on the back bench and patted his chest, motioning for her to lie on him. "Lie on your stomach, so we're chest to chest. Take your arms out of my coat and wrap them around me, we'll use the coat as a blanket". She did as he said, opening his coat and taking her arms out so her bare chest was pressed against his. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he tangled his legs with hers before reaching to his flannel which was on the floor, and throwing it over their legs where the coat didn't reach. Dean was warm, and [Y/N] nestled her head under his chin. Dean wrapped his arms around her, under the coat, pulling her as close to his body as he could. Once he was satisfied that she was close enough, he began rubbing his hands up and down her bare back, trying to create some friction and warmth.

After fifteen minutes or so, [Y/N]'s shivering had come to a stop, but Dean was no longer worried about hypothermia. Her hair had already mostly dried, and her body had started to feel quite warm against his. "You can rest [Y/N], you're okay. I know you're tired, you can sleep if you want, you're safe here". She let her breathing slow and deepen, the steady sound of Dean's heart beating beneath her was soothing and she found it easy to drift off.

***

[Y/N] and Dean both woke up to a knock on the Impala's window. Lifting her head off his chest, she could see that the window had fogged up. "Dean? [Y/N]?" Sam's voice was muffled from outside.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice vibrated through his chest beneath [Y/N]. She reached up and wiped the window, spotting Sam outside. He leaned down to look in the window and his eyes went wide as he noticed they were tangled up with each other, the coat had slightly pulled down to show [Y/N]'s back and the fact that there were no clothes on it.

"I'll uh, give you guys a few minutes to cover up". Dean and [Y/N] scrambled to try and grab the clothes on top of them and cover themselves. Dean put his shirt and jeans on but gave his flannel to [Y/N] to keep on under his coat, her clothes still cold and damp. Luckily his flannel covered her somewhat decently, and his coat came down to her mid-thighs. Once she was ready, she opened the door to see Sam standing by the side of the road, facing away from the car. It was noticeably brighter, and the snow had stopped.

"Hey Sam". [Y/N] said shyly, slightly embarrassed about the way he had found them, and Dean crawled out of the car to stand beside her. Sam turned around to face her, an obvious blush on his cheeks.

"So uh, turns out it wasn't a werewolf after all, it was a witch. We found a hexbag with the victim's belongings down at the coroner's office. Tried to call you guys but you didn't answer. Turns out she was also at the motel we were staying at, I think she knew we were hunters, probably recognised the car. Cas found another hexbag under my bed after we got back". Sam explained. "We ganked her though so it should be all good. Did you two ever make it to the victim's house or what happened?"

Dean shook his head. "No, we were on our way there when Baby just cut out on us, couldn't find anything wrong... wait a minute". He circled the car while Sam and [Y/N] watched before he opened the trunk and moved some of the weapons around. His eyes fixed on something and he let out an annoyed sigh, he reached in and picked up a hexbag, showing it to them. Sam reached into his pocked and pulled out his lighter, throwing it to Dean so he could destroy the thing. The three of them watched it burn before Dean got into the car and tried to start it, the Impala immediately coming to life. "Fucking witches messing with my Baby". Dean muttered under his breath. "Come on, let's get back to the motel".

***

Back at the motel room they met Cas and he checked both Dean and [Y/N] over before explaining that he had work to do in heaven. [Y/N] left Sam and Dean to catch up while she enjoyed a hot shower, taking her time. She changed into clean, dry clothes of her own before joining the boys. "I guess you two will be heading back to the bunker now the case is over?" She asked them and they nodded. "Sam, could you give Dean and me a minute please?"

Sam stood up and walked over to her, he gave her a tight hug and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Of course, I'll go get us checked out. I'm glad you're okay". She walked over to one of the room's beds and patted the space beside her for Dean to join her, and he sat down.

"I just wanted to say thank you, you know, for saving my life".

"I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable, I just had to get you warmed up".

"No of course, I understand completely. I wasn't actually uncomfortable at all, it felt... Good. Familiar. Being that close to you". She could feel her cheeks start to heat up. "I-I've missed you Dean".

"I've missed you too Sweetheart". Dean reached his arm around her, pulling her in to a sideways-hug and resting his chin on her head. "I'm sorry, about that night. Really, I am, I've never regretted something so much. I know it will take a lot more to make it up to you, but I will try if you'll let me. I don't expect you to just take me back, but I would like to try and be your friend again".

"I'd like that".

"Will you come back to the bunker with me and Sam? Just for a little while, or as long as you want, I know you don't have somewhere permanent to stay. You can take any of the rooms". [Y/N] nodded against his chest. They both had a lot more to talk about, and rebuilding their relationship would take time, but they were both willing to try. Pulling back slightly, [Y/N] looked up at Dean, and his hand slid from her shoulder down to her waist, slipping just slightly under her shirt. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, both of them shutting their eyes and leaning into the kiss. His grip on her waist tightened, sliding farther up her shirt while her hand came down to rest on his thigh. Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on hers, keeping his eyes closed and just savouring their closeness. He had missed her too.

The end.

453 notes · View notes

criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

Text

Blind Dates and One Night Stands [Frankie x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet f!reader)

Warnings: reader wears a thong, cunnilingus (duh, it's frankie!), piv sex, multiple orgasms, frankie is flustered and cute!, but also smoldering and hot! safe sex, also frankie is a big boy but we already knew that, some drinking but not too much.

Summary: Frankie has a blind date that doesn't work out, but maybe the night goes well anyway?

Words: 3,639

A/N: I feel like I haven't written in months, but that's not entirely true. I feel rusty, however. I hope you like this.

Update: There is a sequel! One Night Stands and Phone Numbers.

Frankie's leg is vibrating restlessly, feet perched on the metal footrest of the bar stool. He takes his cap off, swipes his hair to the side, and puts it back on, then takes it off again. Maybe he shouldn't be wearing a hat, it's impolite. But without a cap, he feels formal, and he doesn't want that. He puts it back on, then glances at his wristwatch.

She's late.

Cursing out Benny again for this idea, Frankie shakes his head at the bartender who looks at him with a raised eyebrow. No, he's not ordering yet. He has to wait for his date, the woman Benny set him up with. "She's cute, blonde, and friendly," his younger comrade in arms had reassured Frankie. "You need someone to take care of you, or at least get laid."

Frankie had finally agreed to meeting the woman, if only to get Benny off his case. But he was starting to regret it.

He regrets it even more when the woman finally shows up. She's nice enough, and definitely cute, but Frankie can tell almost immediately that this is not going to work. She seems to want to make an effort, though, and he chides himself for not just excusing himself and putting a stop to this.

Because he doesn't put a stop to it, he ends up sitting with her through two orange umbrella drinks, while he himself nurses a beer. At some point his date seems to understand that there's no future for the two of them, downs the rest of her drink, and calls her friend who's been on stand-by to drive her home if the need arose.

Frankie very dutifully gives her a quick hug and watches her leave the bar before he sighs deeply.

Another one bites the dust.

He takes his hat off, runs his fingers through his hair, scratches the back of his head. This is getting exhausting. Sure, not everybody gets to experience the love story of the century, but how is even just a night of good sex with a nice person so hard to reach?

Leaning against the counter, he gets the attention of the bartender, and orders a Scotch. Might as well get fucked up.

"Comin' right up."

You pour the man whose broad shoulders are hunched in defeat a whisky. He wanted it neat, and you make it a double because you feel so sorry for him.

"On me," you say as you place the glass in front of him. His eyebrows shoot up and you give him a lopsided smile.

"That was a terrible first date."

"First and only," he confirms.

"Good," you nod. "Never waste any more time on bad dates."

"I'll drink to that." He lifts the glass and nods at you. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Over the next couple of hours, you return to the guy with the Standard Oil baseball cap to chat between customers. He's easy to talk to, drinks slowly, is interesting and funny - and really handsome. You feel his gaze on you when you pull beers for the increasingly inebriated crowd, and you find yourself wishing that his eyes could be on your ass (which looks really good in these jeans) and not on the back of your head. It's speaks for him that he clearly finds your intelligence attractive as well, but there's something about him that makes you want him to look at your body and go, "damn".

A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells you that you'll be closing in two hours, and the customers are already thinning you. You sway your hips as you do a lap around the room to pick up empty glasses and wipe down a couple of tables, and when you return to the bar, you find the man staring at you, just like you wanted him to.

And it turns you on more than you could have imagined.

You decide to employ a cheap trick, so when you come back around the bar for a chat, you bend over it for a lazy lean that displays your rack. You even fold one arm underneath your tits and frame them with the other, coquettishly propping your chin on your hand. And bless him, he looks you straight in the eye even with the soft swell of your tits right in front of him. You detect a hint of color on his cheekbones, though, and it makes you like him even more. He's a gentleman, perhaps even shy.

When it's time to close, he stays behind to help you stack chairs on the tables. He easily keeps up the conversation - the topic is baseball, turns out both of you played in high school - and eventually accepts your offer of a nightcap. You hop up on one of the barstools, a whisky in hand, and he slides onto the seat of the one next to yours.

"How did you find her?" you ask, sipping your drink. He raises an eyebrow, not understanding, so you make a gesture in the general direction of the stool where his date from earlier tonight sat.

"Oh. Right. Um, buddy of mine set it up. He thought it was a good idea."

"Your buddy is a terrible matchmaker," you judge. He laughs.

"That he is, but he means well."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, isn't that the saying?"

"I guess it is."

You take another small sip of your whisky, feeling it burn all the way down to your belly. It might be the sleep deprivation in combination with the alcohol, but you blurt out:

"You might still get lucky too, if you play your cards right."

He raises his chin a little as he stares you down. "I've never been good at playing cards."

"That's a shame," you shrug, feeling your cheeks heat.

"So, for the sake of just speeding this up... what do I have to do to get permission to kiss you?"

Your heart is beating so hard and fast that you almost feel light-headed.

"You just need to ask," you manage, your voice a little shaky. He smiles, and it doesn't look like the confident grin of a player, no, he looks like a little boy who just found out he could have another cookie.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks quietly, and he barely has time to make his request before you're nodding:

"Yes!"

The relief is plain to see, and he slides down from the barstool so that he can get closer to you. When he leans in, you can smell his cologne, and when he very gently puts his hand on your arm, you can feel him tremble a little.

There is something about the tentative teasing of his lips, the bristles on his upper lip, the fullness of the lower one that drives you wild. You're usually not this forward with a complete stranger - you realize that you haven't even asked his name yet - but it's like he makes something just snap in you.

"What's your name?" you ask, and he blushes slightly. Shit, that's hot.

"Frankie," he introduces himself, and you taste his name, let the syllables roll off your tongue, before telling him yours.

And then you kiss him, devour his mouth, take his hands, and place them on your ass, thread your fingers through his hair. His hat falls to the floor somewhere behind him, and he's kissing you back, like he wasn't all blushing and timid only moments earlier. He grabs handfuls of ass and squeezes, pulls you snugly against himself. He's getting stiff, and there's something so primal and pure in that. You're just two people meeting each other by chance and being turned on by each other, and it spurs you into making him harder, so you eagerly rub yourself against him. He moans into the kiss, and it's the sexiest sound you've ever heard. You tear your mouth from his and meet his gaze that is somehow both hazy and intense. Your hands land on his belt buckle.

"Can I?"

"Please."

So polite. You tear open the belt buckle and his fly, and Frankie wants to reciprocate.

"May I?" he asks, as if you aren't ripping his jeans to shreds. You grin.

"Absolutely."

His gaze drops down to your fly as he deftly undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. His breathing is audible, just like yours, and then his hand is down the front of your ass-hugging jeans. One long finger is pressed along your slit, the tip teasing in between your warm, damp folds.

You catch your lower lip between your teeth and exhale in a small moan. So eager that you're almost too rough, you shove your hand down his underwear to find a thick, stiff shaft.

Oh. Working his jeans and underwear down his ass cheeks, you release his cock, eyes widening when you see it.

Frankie notices your reaction.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you assure him, "it's just... you're really big."

He slides one finger inside you as he leans in and nuzzles your neck, before touching his lips to your ear: "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're wet enough to take me."

You are shaken to the core by the smooth rasp of his voice, the words, the way he now inches his finger into you.

"Please do," you manage, and Frankie pulls his hand out of your pants. He grabs you by the waist and hoists you up on the barstool. You hold onto his shoulders, so wide they take up almost all in your vision field, so very secure and you imagine that they're perfect to hold on when life is stormy, and you need something stable in your life. He devours your mouth again, kisses you full of his whiskey breath before he asks you, in that same raspy, low voice that makes the hairs stand on the back of your neck:

"Can I go down on you?"

Mutely, you nod, and he helps you to get rid of your jeans. You're wearing a thong, not your usual underwear but there's just something about the way your ass looks in those jeans without any extra layer underneath, and you hook your thumbs under the thin straps, but Frankie shakes his head.

"Keep it on. Hold onto the counter. Careful, don't want you to fall."

Touched by his concern and turned on by his request to keep the flimsy garment on, you carefully lean back, supported by your elbows, on the bar. Frankie moves in between your legs, spreading them, and kisses you breathless again, before starting to trail kisses down your neck, over your cleavage, his hands pushing up your tits towards his eager lips and tongue. He then skips the part of you that's still covered by your shirt, and comes to his knees, putting him right in front of your displayed pussy. You wait with bated breath, sliding down a little on the stool to give him better access, your cheeks burning at the way he keeps intense eye contact with you. He has gorgeous eyes, beautifully brown, soulful, and absolutely filthy right now, with the way he stares right into your soul, like he's already fucking you. Gone is the bashfulness from before, and the change is thrilling.

"Is this okay?" he asks, still all polite as if he wasn't smirking like a little devil. You let out a breathless chuckle and try to sound sassy.

"You sure talk a lot."

"Hey, consent is sexy."

A retort is forming in your brain, but Frankie doesn't give you time to finish it: without breaking eye contact, he leans in and presses his mouth and chin to your dripping pussy, his tongue probing in between your slick lips. All you can produce is a choked gasp at the sudden intensity, and you grab hold of Frankie's thick hair as he lifts both your legs over his shoulders.

"You steady?" he wants to know, and you nod frenetically.

"Don't stop now."

He grins at you, and then he utterly rocks your world. The way he uses his tongue, his mouth, his prickly chin on you is goddamn magic, you've never had anyone eat you out like this before. He's everywhere at once but not in a disarrayed way, like he doesn't know what he's doing, oh no, he seems to know exactly what he's doing as he alternates with long, stiff licks along your slit, tongue dipping inside you before drawing out your juices and his saliva in a swirl around your clit, ending in a soft suckle, his mustache scratching you just right. His arms are around your thighs, holding you securely to him, and that's good because your arms aren't really doing their part anymore as you writhe on the stool, overcome by the fervor with which Frankie is pushing you towards a release that almost feels intimidating. Holy shit, he's going to kill you with this orgasm, oh God, oh shit, shit, shit, shit...

You don't realize that you've been going Oh God, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck at a steady pace for a few minutes until the volume of your own voice becomes so loud that you yourself are startled by it. Frankie's now focused on your clit, tongue working faster than you thought was possible, and your hips have started to move, seeking more friction, more and more and more.

"I'm cumming," you announce in a shrill gasp, never once thinking about how stupid it sounds in porn when anyone with eyes can clearly see what's happening, no, you must let him know, Frankie has to know that you're about to come apart under his tongue, that he's making you cum now, right now -

The orgasm is just as intense as you feared, and so much better than you ever imagined. You're actually screaming, which has only happened once before and that was that time you got drunk on a Saturday night and edged yourself with your Magic Wand for hours before you finally let yourself orgasm.

When you come back to some form of rational thought, your eyes blinking open against the faint lights of the bar, your ass is cramping, and your neck is sore. Thighs shaking, you nudge Frankie away from you, and let your legs down, a whine finding its way over your lips when he gives your throbbing clit one last lick.

He grunts when he gets up from his knees, and you realize dimly that both of you are perhaps a little too old for acrobatics like these, but there is no mistaking his proud smile when he comes up to kiss you. His lips are unbelievably slick from you, and you hum into his mouth.

"Am I wet enough for you now?"

"So fucking wet, baby," he assures you in a voice that makes you clench. His cock is rock hard against your thigh, and you mumble something about condoms.

"I've got rubbers," Frankie immediately assures you, and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. You take the condom from him and take a firm yet gentle hold of his thick cock. Christ, but it's thick, this is going to be intense. Frankie's eyelids flutter and he lets out a groan when you slowly stroke him a couple of times before putting the rubber on. This is fun, you think with an evil grin, you could do a lot more damage to him if you weren't dying to have him inside you.

"There," you whisper, taking his cock and pushing your soaked thong to the side so that you can slide him through your lips to lube him up. "I want you to fuck me now, Frankie."

He captures your lips in a searing kiss as you nock him at your entrance and let him start inching into you. Even with how wet you are, and how slow he's going, he still takes your breath away.

"You can take it," he growls, his low tone vibrating through him and into you. "You're doing great, baby..."

Holding onto him, you lift your legs and wrap them around him, hooking your feet by his ass, to lessen the angle of entry, but it's still a tight fit, God, he's big but feels so good, you want him to fucking ruin you.

He pulls back a little before pushing back in, and your moan gives him pause.

"Am I hurting you?"

"You're just really big," you blurt out inelegantly, smiling a little at his expression of alarm mixed with pride. "Maybe if we try it from behind?"

He pulls out and turns the stool around. You lean forward and brace yourself against the counter as you slide yourself to the back edge of the stool, angling yourself right. Frankie finds you, pulls your underwear to the side, and pushes in. He can't get as deep this way, but he still takes your breath away.

"Fuck, that's better," you moan, "take me hard, this is perfect!"

He takes orders well. With his large hands on your hips, he quickly finds a devastating rhythm that creates a filthy song of his thunderous panting in your ear, your loud moans, the slapping of skin against skin with each impact of his hips against your ass. Possessed by a new urgency, he paws at your tits, shoves one hand inside your bra to free one breast from the cup, the other hand still holding on to your hip, fingers digging into the flesh. His breaths are burning your neck, his cock is working you mercilessly, thrust after thrust after rough thrust, as his groans rise to a growl. You release one hand from the counter and put it over his to make him squeeze your breast. You want him to bruise you, want to feel him on your flesh, in the grip of your hungry pussy when you wake up tomorrow - later today. You don't know him, but you want to, you've never felt this way before with anyone, it's never been this easy with anyone, this easy and overwhelming. Fuck, you might even be able to cum again.

You slide your hand down to your sensitive clit, bracing yourself with one arm on the counter, Frankie draping himself over you from behind, fingers roughly pinching your nipple.

"One more for me," he huffs, "that's a good girl."

You cum almost immediately, his praise working wonders for you. As your squelching pussy flutters around him, Frankie's loud moan joins your wail. His hips stutter, then still, and his forehead falls to your shoulder as he catches his breath. You're shivering, parts of you stiff from strange positions and holding on, other parts like jelly. As you draw a trembling breath, you realize that you've dribbled saliva from one corner of your mouth, and you quickly wipe at your chin and slip down from the stool. Your legs almost buckle under you, but Frankie quickly catches hold of you.

"Easy."

"Thanks," you mumble, suddenly a little embarrassed. You've never been good at good-byes after the few one night stands you've had. Your thong chafes, your crotch is soaked, and you're feeling a little uncomfortable as the passion wanes and you're starting to feel the late hour.

Frankie's hand rests on your waist. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you hurry to reassure him, "I'm just... tired. It's late."

"It is." He takes off the condom, ties it up, then looks around for a trash can, finding one a few steps away. Having disposed of the rubber, he tucks himself in, and pulls up his pants.

"I had fun, though," he offers, his voice soft. You're just stepping into your jeans, and as you pull them up, you return his shy smile. Look at that, all raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens again.

"So did I," you reply, meaning it. "I had real fun, I mean... it was really good."

Both of you finish getting dressed in silence, then you do your final checks for the night, cash up, and turn off the lights. Frankie's with you as you lock up, and then you turn to him.

"Well... my car's over there." You point in the general direction of your parked car. Frankie gestures towards it, inviting you to start walking.

"I'll follow you to it. Make sure you're safe and sound."

Such a gentleman. It's half a block on a silent, empty street that you've walked down countless times before, but you don't mind the company, not to mention the gesture.

You yawn widely when you reach your car, and Frankie immediately asks if you're okay to drive.

"Sure," you promise him with a tired smile, "this isn't my first night shift. I don't have a long drive home, anyway."

"I could drive you," he offers, but you just shake your head and shoot him a flirty look.

"Then you'll just want to come up for coffee, and we both know how that story ends."

He chuckles, looking down at the ground. When you reach your car, he looks at you shyly.

"I got two questions before I can let you leave."

"Shoot."

"One: can I kiss you? And two: can I have your number?"

You pout and tilt your head, as if deep in thought.

"Yes to the kiss."

He immediately leans in for a surprisingly sweet kiss that ends way too soon.

"And the number?"

You grin mischievously.

"Come back tomorrow night so I'll know you're for real. Then you'll get my number."

He laughs at that, then stands watch as you get into your car, and drive away.

The next afternoon when you return to work, you find his baseball cap on the counter where the cleaner left it.

Now he definitely has to come back.

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #my fic

276 notes · View notes

joels-darlin · 9 months

Text

Monday Morning - The Situation

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of blood and injuries. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: A standard Monday morning commute to the DEA office takes a harrowing turn of events.

Word count: 1592

Author Note: What's this?! I'm writing for Peña AND its more than 800 words - absolute madness. This is not my normal go to for fics but I wanted to push the boat out and give something new a try. Not a lot of Javi in this one but there will be a part two which I'm currently writing so all shall be revealed. Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️ Special Note: Just a huge thanks to @ladybess-a03 for pushing me to do this. I've had the idea for ages and without your support it would of just got left in the pile forever - thankyou ♥️

AO3 Link

Darkness. That was all you could see right now; complete darkness. The blindfold on your face clung to your skin, the mixture of blood, sweat and tears. This was not how you had expected Monday morning to go.

Since accepting the accepting a job with the DEA and moving to Columbia permanently (Bogotá to be precise) you had spent the past 10 months integrating into the team alongside fellow Agents Javier Peña and Steve Murphy - getting up to speed with the case and assisting hunting down drug lord Pablo Escobar. It was a seamless transition both agents welcoming you with open arms. What helped was the friendship the three of you had struck up outside of work, often out drinking in local bars or over at Steve’s for some home made food from Connie. It was nights like those that made the long stressful days much easier.

So you thought nothing of it when you where approached by, what you assumed, was a couple of nuisance sellers on the streets in the middle of grabbing your morning coffee from the cart. It was something that happened on occasion, young men, women or children trying to make a living.

What took you by surprise was when one of them pulled out a gun, the barrel aimed to your head. The taller of the two stepped back throwing a heavy punch square to your jaw rending you completely useless. In one swift motion, before you could even recover or defend yourself the feeling of cool metal around your wrists - handcuffs. The all too familiar clicking of the lock. Then came the darkness, a blindfold shoved around your head.

All your instincts told you something was wrong and turns out you where right to assume so. Next thing you where being bundled into the boot of a vehicle which proceeded to tear through the streets of Bogotá. Trying to remember the various twists and turns the vehicle had taken so you could figure out at least what area you where in, no use everything was just a blur. The anxiety in your chest and the dull ache in your head contributing to the oncoming brain fog, making you unable to remember any small detail.

The car eventually came to a halt the boot lid being ripped open exposing you to the humid Bogotá air. Yelping as one of your now kidnappers roughly grabbed your upper arm dragging you out of the boot setting you on your feet with a thump.

“Camina perra!” He sneered in a rough voice, lips so close to your ear you could feel the saliva drops coming from his mouth, knowing enough Spanish to understand what that meant.

“No no let me go please” screaming, pleading from the top of your lungs; thrashing and resisting as hard as you physically could. It was no use though they where too strong. You had never given any thought to how you would react in a situation like this. No number of years training could help right now either, these where the men of the biggest drug lord in Columbia and would stop at nothing if they got they information needed. But right now you where frightened which was evident in the way your chest ached and body shaking with anxiety. Showing a vulnerable state compared to hardened persona of the DEA agent showcased by day. There was one thing you where sure of though they weren’t getting any information from you, no matter how hard and long the torture was. At the back of your mind you knew from previous informants and victims of the Pablo’s men how this often went, a cold chill jolting down your spine at the mere thought.

“What do you want from me!!” you screamed the moment the boot lid popped open, voice raw, croaky from the sheer amount of tears shed. Not a word from either of them just grabbing you by the arms again in a vice grip, dragged from the car with force. The lack of energy in your body was making it hard to fight. You battled with what you had left but they continued and as a warning landed a few punches/kicks across various parts of your body; knowing there would be a rainbow of bruises the next day. If you even made it that far.

It was no surprise when you where thrown onto the cold metal of a chair in what you assumed was a derelict room, not hard to miss by the stench of damp and death in the air or the sounds that echoed around across the walls; dripping water, footsteps. The stagnant air filled your burning lungs with every breath bringing with it a sickening twisting feeling to your lower stomach.

The handcuffs that adorned your wrists earlier removed only briefly so they could secure you down to the chair. Glad that you had chosen to wear jeans today as the rolls of duck tape where tightly wrapped securing your ankles to the chair legs. The sounds of the footsteps where moving away shortly after, they where leaving?! Now all alone with just your thoughts.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed since you where still virtually blind. Only when the sounds of the squeak from the door hinge opening, then came the footsteps. Signalling to you that someone…no two people had entered the room. Off came the blindfold the sharp pain in your scalp as few strands of hair where ripped from their follicles - a painful reminder of the once harrowing darkness. Squinting your eyes surveyed the room, adjusting to the limited light from the yellowing lamp that hung in the centre of the room. Eyes landing on the two figures stood in front of you. They where broad, one bald and one not. Dressed in the finest cotton shirts and jeans money could buy. Fancy loafers adorning their feet - definitely part of Escobar’s crew you could just tell. The faces though you where unable to be recognise, never ones to have cropped up frequently during surveillance before.

“Now now you are going to co-operate otherwise this. gets. ugly.” The taller of the two spat as he moved walking slowly to circle your frame tied to the chair once. Like he was getting a good view of his prey and you swear you caught him licking his lips at one point. You swallowed loudly, throat thickening. He approached slowly eye on yours as he leant down, leaning closer lips next to the shell of your ear whispering.

“So what’s a pretty little girl like you doing running around with the DEA huh. We know who you are and well…lets just say you are going to do us a little favour - that clear bitch?”

The hot breath on blowing over your skin making you shiver violently. “Keep your mouth shut don’t say ANYTHING” crossing your mind repeatedly. He moved backwards kneeling slightly, now at level with your eyes.

“Did you not hear me? ANSWER THE QUESTION” he bellowed standing up to normal position again voice echoing around the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides, rage evident. You sat completely still not moving a muscle or uttering a word. Then came the punches, one to your stomach, head, face - anywhere he could reach really. You where bleeding now the punches so hard it had split the skin in various places, feeling the trails of blood running down your skin. There was a metallic taste flooding your mouth, the busted lip from the blows that occurred moments ago.

“ANSWER. ME. NOW.” the fury in his eyes was present as you shook your head refusing to answer. Scared to open your mouth know no voice would even come out if you wanted too.

“Playing the long game huh? okay I see how it is then” he sneered, chuckling ever so slightly. Walking back over to the other man he starts barking orders.

”Remove her from that chair and take her next door…I want her on the bed ready for me in 5 minutes…two can play the long game” and then left.

It took a few moments to register what he meant by that and when you did you clenched your thighs together, hoping and praying he wasn't going to follow through with his words. You broke down begging, pleading as the bald man loosened the ankle restraints before roughly hoisting your frame over his shoulder, carrying you into the dark room and dropping you on the mattress. The sound of the door slamming as he left.

He was already there. Waiting in the corner a harrowing smile spread across his face. Watching as he approached the bed, fingers working to undo the belt buckle at his waist. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, a fresh set of tears spilling from them. The feeling of the mattress shifting next to you caused a wave of anxiety to crash over your body. You lay there hoping that this was going to be over quickly.

It was over. For now. Broken, bruised and beaten you remained in a fetal position on the dishevelled mattress sobbing; wrists and ankles still bound together. All clothing stripped from your lower half, a dull ache between your thighs as a painful reminder of what you had endured not so long ago.

There was one shred of hope that you clung to - hoping that Javi and Steve would find you soon.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction

115 notes · View notes

clone-anon · 5 months

Text

Finding a Way

Pairing: Hevy x GN!Reader

Rating: SFW, we’ll say PG-13

Word Count: 2522

Warnings: Explosion at Rishi Station, some angst but plenty of fluff, description of injuries and healing, kissing, cuddling

A/N: This was written for @sinfulsalutations as part of the @rare-clone-fic-exchange. I hope you enjoy this. It's my first time writing Hevy, but I love him.

Summary: This is a Hevy Lives AU. You're a GAR contractor who takes supplies to various outposts, including Rishi Station. You strike up a friendly relationship with Hevy and are devastated to learn of the explosion, doing what you can to reach out to him once he heals, and getting a lot closer along the way.

Other characters mentioned: Domino Squad, 99, and OC clone medic Shots

Hevy did not like Rishi Station. All that training just to get here? The time passed in the usual way. You connected via comms, bringing a shipment of cargo in for the squad. He acknowledged when you asked for permission to land. Your job had you skipping around to various outposts bringing supplies. Sometimes, you were the only outside face they saw for many rotations.

You landed and Hevy greeted you as you got off the ship. Echo confirmed the cargo you brought was exactly what they ordered. Ration bars, dehydrated soup mix, standard issue soap and shampoo, and five sets of spare blacks. The boys all helped you unload the cargo and Hevy decided to walk you back to the ship. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t sure what propelled him forward, but he thought it would be a nice gesture.

“Thanks, Hevy,” you said, just before boarding.

“My pleasure,” he replied. He smiled slightly and gave a small nod. You returned the smile and had a feeling this was going to become your favorite stop on this route.

Every two weeks you would stop at Rishi Station with supplies and every two weeks Hevy would be there to greet you. You got to know Domino Squad well and made sure it was your last stop of the day so that you could take your time without having to worry about where you were headed next. You started including a few things that were not standard issue, just so they didn’t feel forgotten out there. They appreciated the fresh fruit, candy, and puzzles.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hevy said, as he watched his brothers immediately start scrutinizing one of the puzzles, excited for something new.

“I know,” you answered, “I just thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” he said with a smile. “I mean, er, we do. We definitely do.”

He walked you to your ship again, but instead of boarding right away, you stood outside long enough to look at the stars. You didn’t want to stay out too long with the local fauna being what they were, but you loved how clear the sky was tonight and you were really starting to like Hevy. He was strong and loyal to his brothers, but there was a gentleness to him too. You looked at the night sky together and showed him some of the routes you took, your finger tracing a course between dotted planets. Hevy committed them to memory so he could think about you flying around out there, somehow close even if you weren’t there with him.

“If they ever let me off this moon, can I take you on a proper date?” The question escaped his lips before he even had the chance to stop himself.

“I’d like that very much,” you replied. “I live on Coruscant. I’m sure we could find something to do.”

“It’s a date then,” he said, reaching for your hand. You softly clasped his hand in your own, giving it a light squeeze and feeling heat fill your cheeks. You were stuck staring into each others eyes and smiling when your chrono went off, reminding you that you definitely had to leave.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed.

“I understand,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze in return and letting it go. “Until next time.”

You nodded with a grin and got on your shuttle. He watched you fly away before rejoining his brothers.

There was not to be a next time, though. You’d never go back to Rishi Station. Several rotations after you left, there was an attack. You heard about it from some other troopers on your route and your heart dropped to the floor. It was another rotation before Echo managed to find you through a GAR database and managed to contact you. They were back on Kamino with Hevy. He’d nearly died, but somehow, the side panel on the bomb they made managed to stay intact and push him out of the building, protecting him from certain death. Still, he was badly injured and the Kaminoans weren’t sure he would make it. If several jedi generals hadn’t intervened, he might not have found himself in a bacta tank. He had massive burns all over his body and a massive concussion along with internal bruising. The recovery would not be easy. His armor had been mostly destroyed, but it helped save him.

When you received the message, you read it as quickly as you could, hoping against hope that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. You started crying when you read that Hevy was alive. Although your heart broke every time you got to know a clone and found out the war had taken them, Hevy was special to you. You gave yourself a moment to let the tears flow as relief swept through your being. Once you were ready, you read the rest of the message. Hevy was doing poorly, but they were trying to keep him alive long enough for him to heal. Echo and Fives had joined the 501st and Hevy was set to join too, as long as he pulled through. He was stuck on Kamino in the meantime. He and Fives wanted you to know, but they couldn’t say more than that. You immediately asked if you could come and see him, but the Kaminoans didn’t want that. You didn’t really have a reason to be on Kamino and sneaking you in so you could visit had its risks. Your heart sank again, but in your correspondence, Fives had an idea. He asked if you could send a voice recording for Hevy and they could play it to him to try to help lift his spirits. They didn’t know if he could even hear it while in the bacta tank, but it was worth a shot.

And so, Echo and Fives found themselves standing outside Hevy’s bacta tank playing your recording multiple times a day. Hi Hevy. It’s me. I heard what you did and what happened. I’m proud of you and you need to get better. You still owe me a date. Promise me you’ll be there. When Echo and Fives had to ship out with the 501st for their next mission, they gave the recording to 99, who sat there diligently playing your message at least once a day and keeping Hevy company. After a couple rotations he started to notice Hevy’s hand twitched when he heard the recording.

Hevy heard your voice and his brain was trying to comprehend where he was. Was he alive? How was he alive? He felt himself floating and could hear 99’s voice after yours. He wished more than anything to see his brothers and to see you. He promised himself he’d find his way back to you.

It was only one more rotation and he was out of the tank. He was greeted by 99, a medical droid, and a clone medic named Shots.

“Glad to have you back, Hevy,” smiled 99, as the droid and Shots helped Hevy dry off and lay down.

“Glad to be back, 99,” he replied.

Shots and the droid started scanning Hevy and he just rolled his eyes.

“I just woke up,” he protested.

“Yes, but the faster we scan you and confirm you’re fine, the sooner you can leave,” Shots retorted with a grin.

Hevy sighed and waited, keeping a particular eye on the droid. There wasn’t a single clone he knew who loved the medbay or wanted to spend more time there than they had to.

“Okay, looks like your burns healed, internal bruises are mostly gone, and you have no signs of concussion,” Shots reported. “We’ll get you a training session to see how that goes, but barring any major issues, you should be ready for duty.”

Hevy was pleased with the news. 99 walked him down to his temporary quarters and told him what happened during and after the explosion. Hevy took in the information and accepted that it just wasn’t his time yet. At least they had been successful in defending Rishi Station.

“99?”

“Yes?”

“There was another voice. When I was in the tank. I heard your voice and one other.” He didn’t want to give too much away, but he had to know.

“Oh yes,” 99 replied. “Echo left this for you. Something about communicating with a supplier?”

Hevy smiled. “Thanks 99.”

A couple rotations later he passed a physical exam, was cleared to join the 501st, and headed out into battle, but not before following the instructions Echo left for how to contact you. It all seemed to happen so quickly in your mind. He nearly died and they were already sending him into battle. In his message, he explained what he remembered and promised you he’d be on Coruscant soon. You wanted to see him before he headed into battle, but knew that’s not how the GAR worked.

You kept yourself busy in the meantime, still delivering supplies to the outposts and adding a new stopping point. Every time you went past the old route that would have taken you to Rishi, you smiled to yourself. You missed that stop. You missed him. You were thankful you got to have some text correspondence while he was gone so you knew he made it through each day. He wasn’t allowed to say much about where he was or what he was doing as that was on a need-to-know basis and the army certainly didn’t want to risk soldier’s transmissions being intercepted while communicating with a civilian, but you heard from him and that got you through the day. Your messages started getting more personal, allowing him to know you and asking questions about him. You told him about a cool plant you saw in the market or the new flavor of ration bar which did not taste as good as was advertised.

On his end, Hevy looked for a new message from you every chance he got. They always made him smile. He loved reading about life on Coruscant, learning about your friends and the places you liked to go. He loved all the little details too. He had gotten to know you and really liked you before the accident, but he was seriously falling for you now. He would be on Coruscant soon and felt his heart pound as he wrote, “So what about that date?”

On your end, you had to read the words over and over, just to make sure you still weren’t making it up. You replied, “I’m ready when you are.”

The day came and your mind was only on him. You didn’t pretend to care about work that day, so much as deciding to take the day off so you weren’t distracted while flying. Hevy wore a new set of fatigues and stood a little awkwardly at your predetermined meet-up location, but he didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he saw you he ran to embrace you. It felt like the most natural thing. You held on to his back and shoulders, subconsciously trying to make sure he was really here. You breathed deeply and felt tears coming to your eyes. You pulled away from the hug a little, your hands tracing down each arm and resting on his hands.

“You’re here,” you said, looking up into his beautiful brown eyes. “You’re really here.”

He hugged you again. “I finally made it, cyare.”

There was so much you wanted to show him. You took his hand and led him through that part of town, stopping at one of your favorite places to eat. He wanted to try more food than he could possibly fit in his stomach and you told him you’d just have to bring him there back again and again. Now that he was here you could take your time. Even though the war was still going on, you had this moment right now and you weren’t going to waste it. Hevy loved walking around with you and held your hand the entire time, not wanting to let go. You walked him through a small festival, enjoying the music while lights shown through blown glass art in every color. It was beautiful, but it was even better that you were sharing the experience. You chatted well into the night until the festival was starting to shut down.

“I don’t want this night to end,” you admitted.

“I don’t either,” he agreed.

“When do you ship out next?”

“A week. The 501st boys really needed a break. I just joined them, but they’ve been out there fighting for a long time without shore leave.”

“Hevy,” you retorted with a grin, “You are part of them now and you need a break too. Besides, you just got blown up.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

You looked down and thought for a moment.

“What is it,” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “I was just wondering if maybe you’d like to spend the night at my place. Nothing more than… I don’t know if that would be too much.”

“I’d love to,” he answered. “I’d also love to kiss you.”

You beamed and leaned toward him. His lips planted firmly on yours made you both smile. As he pulled away you surged forward just a bit to leave one more little kiss for him.

He took your hand and let you lead the way. You were just one level down and it wasn’t long before you let him inside, suddenly wondering why you hadn’t cleaned up more. Hevy didn’t mind though. He didn’t even notice. He liked seeing where you live and seeing your personality in the little items you had around your home. After you both took your boots off, he grinned and picked you up, kissing you again.

“Oh! Hevy!” You looked down, a little unsure. He calmly looked up at you, happy to have you in his arms.

“I carry a Z-6 rotary cannon,” he said confidently. Then, a little softer he added, “I could carry you anywhere. Just say the word.”

You leaned down and rested your forehead to his, placing your arms on his shoulders and smiling down at him.

You whispered, “For tonight, how about you just take me that way.” You tilted your head and looked down the hallway toward your bedroom.

He grinned, “I can do that.”

You found yourselves in bed, snuggling against each other. While the environment was new to him, because it was you and your home, he immediately relaxed. Right now, the war didn’t exist. Right now, he was with you. He was alive and here and happy. He settled against the pillow and pulled you a little closer. You kissed him again.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you said quietly.

“So am I, cyar’ika.”

You listened to his heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall with each breath. It was comforting. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep in each other’s arms, wanting nothing more than to steal away any moment with him you could get.

#rare clone fic exchange #hevy x reader #clone trooper hevy #rare clone fic submission #clone trooper hevy x reader #clone wars fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #clone wars

59 notes · View notes

masterjedilenawrites · 3 months

Text

On this here February 1st, I'll be showing some love for the 21st Nova Corps, a unit lead by Marshal Commander Bacara and Jedi General Ki-Adi-Mundi. I couldn't find any other named clones from this unit outside of Bacara, and I haven't written for this guy before, so I'll do some headcanons just for him :)

The 21st Nova Corps

I did a quick dive on Wookiepedia first, and here were some things that stood out to me from what's apparently already been canonized:

The 21st Nova Corps has a reputation for being relentless and exceptionally conditioned/disciplined.

This is in large part due to Bacara having super high expectations, he will kick anyone who doesn't meet them out of the squad, even without Ki-Adi-Mundi's approval.

Actually described as being "at odds with" Mundi, though in another section was said to have a grudging respect for him.

Bacara utilizes aggressive tactics and is extremely strict. He ignores the recommended GAR practice for commanders to remain inconspicuous in battle, and instead chooses to lead his troops from the front.

He's described as a loner and stern. I saw somewhere he was besties with Neyo, too, and they developed combat techniques together.

With that foundation, here are some headcanons I have for him:

Doesn't talk much, but not because he's shy or emotionally constipated. He really only cares about war and rarely meets people who are interested in discussing the topic with as much passion.

Like seriously, he has no other hobbies or interests. Music? Never heard of it. Sports? Boring. Holo-films? Food? Knitting? Yeah no, he's already walking away from this conversation.

If he is comfortable with someone though, he can talk about battle strategies for daaaays.

Fucking hates milk.

Has a mind for improvement. Not quite a perfectionist, he just won't ever settle for "good enough" when something better is still achievable.

Thus, he's constantly working angles in his head, coming up with possible solutions, thinking outside the box. Even for common, everyday situations like getting out of traffic or folding the laundry.

Jason Bourne vibes.

Has one small tattoo on his foot, will never say what it is.

Natural at picking up languages. Fluent in Mando'a but can carry simple conversations in plenty of others.

Spends his R&Rs pouring over wartime history/strategy books in the archives, with a beer.

If someone asked him on a date, he would straight-up say "why?" So confused.

He would be a pretty good partner, though, if he ever opened himself up romantically.

And if he could ever find someone who meets his high standards...

I also read that he was featured on a GAR campaign poster, and I firmly believe he secretly has a massive print of it taped to the back of his closet door.

Can not roll his tongue. Every other clone can and it pisses him off.

Has the best laugh you've ever heard in your life. He does use it occasionally, but very randomly. Not even his squad has been able to work out what exactly his sense of humor is.

His squad... All are just as intense and passionate as their commander. When they're not fighting, they're training to fight. There's no room for shenanigans or relaxing.

Other clones keep a respectful distance. They know the Nova Corps get sent to some pretty hardcore places.

Most of them have never set foot in 79s, or any bar for that matter.

Bacara goes every once in a while, because he does like a good beer, but he's very out of place. Just... kinda sits there... not doing anything...

He gets hit on a lot because he's smoking hot but has never taken anyone home. Not opposed to the idea of getting laid, but it would take a lot to catch his eye.

Eeeevery once in a while, when life gets a little too still and his thoughts wander past all the combat tactics and weapon factoids that are usually in the way, a deep and vulnerable feeling makes its way to the surface and almost cripples him: loneliness.

He has no idea what to do about it, so rather than face it like he would a charging battalion of droids, he instead pushes it right back down and moves on.

Okay but now I'm imagining Queer Eye showing up to help Bacara find some hobbies and a girlfriend 😂

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831

Other Clones Tag: @kaijusplotch, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @severalseashellsbytheseashore (it won't let me tag you), @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @mishakoon

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🌟 2024 Clone Battalion Series Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

#star wars #the clone wars #21st nova corps #commander bacara #okay but like #can i be the girlfriend?#why did i just make myself fall in love with this clone #2024 clone battalion series #feb 1

38 notes · View notes

ssouhekii · 7 months

Text

ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵗ - ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ☆ .° • . °

☆ ˢⁱᵍᵐᵃ & ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ!ᵒʳᵃᶜˡᵉ!ʸ/ⁿ - * ☆ . °

☆ wc - 3.3k

Sigma and his little guest eat dinner. The guest, now known as y/n, is introduced to the house. Who knew a home could be this big?

warnings: implied child neglect. y/n's only hobbies are staring and making awkward silences. sigma tries to be serious but sees the ●.● stare and fails

a/n: sigma: wow this kid probably hates me. why are they looking at me did i do something wrong? am i scaring them?

y/n: woww funny man hair swish swish

PART ONE > NEXT PART

You were pretty sure nobody needed their house to be this big.

Before you and Mister Sigma had arrived to the port, he had told you that he was taking you to his home, and that it was called the Sky Casino, and that he would make you some dinner once they got there.

You weren't all that sure what a casino was, but dinner sounded nice.

Your jaw had nearly dropped as the two of you made your way up to his home. To you, homes had always been the cozy little houses people in your small town lived in, or that small white hospital room they'd put you in when the visions started. "This is your home," they told you. "This is where we live."

For a while, "home" had even been a large hollow tree you'd lived in after the hospital flooded. That being said, to you, homes were always small.

You were sure you could fit a million tree trunks in Mister Sigma's home.

He'd led you up a few flights of stairs, and stopped in a large room that he told you was "his office."

Up until the point when he opened the door in the corner of his office behind the desk, you'd been in too much shock to register anything he was really saying. His words were drowned out by magnificent hanging lights with warm yellow glows, people shouting and swaying by each other, entranced by music and games. You could have lost yourself watching as dice rolled past on magnificent redwood tables stacked with delicious meals, glistening more than you'd ever seen. This environment being a place that one could live in, sleep in, even breathe in, day and night, mystified you. You were simply in awe at the man for having so, so much.

This was why, after being led to a small door in the corner of an office, far away from the music and lights and games, you were a bit confused when he finally told you "Welcome Home."

As far as you had seen, "Welcome Home" wasn't an invitation, it was a presentation. When anyone had told you "welcome home," they had been presenting you with their place of living. Perhaps even your place of living, too.

So, you didn't understand why, instead of presenting you with all that glamour and joy, Mister Sigma "welcome homed" you into a standard hallway, lined with pictures and a coat-rack, just like any ordinary home.

He led you through the off-white hall, exiting into a decently-sized living room with a brown leather couch facing to your left, a black coffee table in front of it, several bookshelves with a television in the middle of them, and a marble bar counter to your left.

"So, this is my, uh, home. The room you can stay in is right by the kitchen, I'll show you later..." Evidently, he seemed anxious, and you watched his two-toned hair sway behind him as he paced into his kitchen. You followed close behind.

"Are you hungry? I'll make some dinner."

You met his eyes as he turned to you, and you nodded.

"What would you like to eat?"

Frankly, you hadn't thought all that far. You were just hungry, since you hadn't eaten since earlier that morning when Mister Sigma's white-haired friend brought you some sort of granola square.

The card over his face had glistened as he told you it was birthday-cake flavored, and that you needed lots of protein to grow up big and strong. After a bite, you had set it down. It tasted disgusting.

Apparently, he'd disagreed with you, and began talking about how birthday cake was the best flavor. You'd watched as his blue eye darted from side to side, never seeming to be able to focus on one thing. After a few minutes of his random birthday cake facts, he'd ask if you were going to eat the rest. You shook your head, no, and watched him down the rest of the square in one bite.

Needless to say, you didn't know what you wanted to eat, you were just hungry.

You took a moment to ponder. You didn't really have a favorite dish or anything. In your town, in the hospital, in that room earlier that day, you just ate what you were given. Some of it you liked, some of it you didn't, but the option was the thing placed in front of you or nothing at all.

You'd always had a choice of what to eat in the forest, though. You spent many a day picking berries, catching fish, or just flat out eating leaves that you found. Sometimes you got sick, but you were always fine in the end.

Did Mister Sigma have any fish? You didn't feel like eating fish, but you didn't want the sweetness of the berries right now. You wondered what the word for that was.

"Well? Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you what I have in the fridge right now."

Mister Sigma's words pulled you out of your own head and you looked around the kitchen, then back at him.

"You can just sit over there," he said, motioning to a wooden table behind the bar-counter. It had three wooden chairs, and you made your way to one quickly. The chair was a little big, but you managed to hop up and take a seat at it. You met his eyes when you had taken your place, seeing he had opened the fridge in front of him.

"Well, I've got some fruit, baby carrots, leftover macaroni and cheese.."

Your options seemed limited. You kept staring at him as he waited for a response.

"It's your choice, I could really eat anything..."

He shifted on his feet and then looked back to the fridge.

"Macaroni it is, hope that's fine."

You gave your head a little nod, though he didn't see. You couldn't quite remember what macaroni was, but you remembered it tasted good.

You continued to watch his hair swish, swish, swish behind him as he moved around the counter. He tossed the mac and cheese into two bowls, grabbed some napkins and spoons, and carried the meal to the table. You swung your legs back and forth as he set it in front of you.

The bowl was warm, and you lost all focus on Mister Sigma as you took your spoon and immediately began to eat. The taste of warm cheese immediately filled your mouth, and you instantly perked up a little.

You ate quickly, until halfway into the bowl you looked up to see him watching you. His meal looked almost untouched.

"I take it you like my mac and cheese, yeah?"

You gazed into his eyes, your cheeks full of noodles. You nodded quickly.

"That's, uh, good. Don't eat too fast or you'll get a stomach ache..." he trailed off yet again.

Glaring at him, you continued to shovel macaroni into your mouth at lightning speed. When finished, you dropped your spoon into the bowl and pushed it towards him.

Mister Sigma, still having eaten less than you, lowered his spoon from his mouth. He glanced at the bowl then into your eyes, which continued to watch him with a piercing stare.

He swallowed, then glanced towards your empty bowl again.

"Nikolai told me you hadn't eaten today, but I didn't think you were this hungry..." He looked at his own bowl. "Would you like some more?"

You widened your eyes slightly at him. You weren't aware that you could have more than one serving of this heavenly ambrosia. Being offered seconds, no matter where you were, was alien to you.

Alas, you were full. You were sure the gods weeped as you denied their gifts.

Actually, you were just a little dismayed at how small your stomach was. So, with a heavy heart, you looked down and shook your head.

Mister Sigma sighed a little. "You're allowed to have more if you're still hungry. You're still growing, you know," he mumbled. There was no anger in his tone, and for a moment you felt the same discomfort he did.

You shook your head again, and he paused. "Alright," he whispered, and you watched as he continued eating.

After a few bouts of him glancing up nervously to meet your unending stare, you shifted your gaze to behind him.

On the wall behind Mister Sigma was a vibrant oil painting of The Fish Who's Name You Forgot. Backed by a vibrant ocean blue, the creature could have almost bobbed off of the canvas and into the room. The light from the painting reflected off its purple blob-body and created an almost rainbow off of its glistening white tentacles. Bubbles swirled around the creature and even through it, if the jelly-like consistency of its body was to be believed. Mister Sigma, apparently wishing to join in on your wonder, turned around to look at the painting.

"Do you like it? I saw it at a gallery I went to."

He turned back to you. You nodded, and drew your finger up slowly to point at him.

"Looks like you."

His eyes widened in confusion.

"You think the jellyfish..." Yes, jellyfish. You remembered the name now. "You think it looks like me?"

You squinted at him for a moment before returning to your usual empty stare. "Mhm. Your hair."

He almost looked to his stray strands of hair, but stopped himself.

Well, I can see why you'd think of it that way," he muttered. "I never really considered that. It's very interesting."

He grabbed your empty bowl, then his, and got up suddenly. You stayed sitting where you were. The chair was comfortable, after all.

Mister Sigma returned to the table after a few moments, empty handed.

"So... kiddo. I'd uh, I'd really like to know your name. Since, you know, you live with me now."

When you had first met him, you hadn't known this. Now, his reasoning for wanting to know that made a little more sense.

Also, with a full stomach, you felt a bit more friendly.

"Y/n," you whispered cautiously. "Zero, Three, Eight." You weren't sure if he had wanted to know your name from your town or your name from the hospital.

"Zero-three-eight?" He repeated after you in confusion.

You simply nodded.

"What does that mean?"

"It's my name at the doctor's."

His mouth let slip a little "oh," and he glanced to the side before sharply inhaling and looking back to you. His usual nervous look had turned into a serious, slightly stern expression.

"Well, y/n," he placed special emphasis on your name for some strange reason. "I think we need to set up some house rules."

You returned his stern gaze with a wide-eyed stare. You weren't quite sure why your eyes went wide at the thought of rules. If you had to guess, it was because you'd spent so long in the forest, doing whatever you want. You weren't sure why the silver haired man with the mustache had picked you up and carried you to a place where there were rules, but you weren't all that enthusiastic about it.

On the other hand, another thought occurred to you, which was that there were always rules, it was just that nobody had ever bothered to tell you them before. In your town, in the hospital, you had simply had to figure out what you'd done wrong while they were chastising you for it.

You hoped that this warning would be enough for you.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just want to set up some boundaries," he continued in a gentler voice, perhaps after noticing your look. "Do you know what boundaries are, y/n?"

You only had a general idea, so you hesitated before nodding your head again slowly.

"Boundaries are when you tell someone what you are and aren't comfortable with so you can both be happy. Do you understand that?"

Again, only a nod.

"Alright," Mister Sigma stopped and looked away for a moment to think. "First of all, if something happens, you need to tell me, alright?"

You glanced to the side, then squinted at him, doing your best to convey that you needed further clarifying. "Somethings" happened a lot, in your opinion.

"By something happening, I mean if you get hurt, or you knock something over, or uh, " he paused. "You know, things like that."

You returned to your typical stare with a quiet "okay."

"Right. By the way, if you see anything shiny looking on the counters or dressers, be careful with them, alright?" He looked to his side again, then back to you. "And don't draw on anything except the paper I give you, okay? Especially not on the walls."

You didn't know how to draw. Oh well.

"And, uh, don't stay up too late. Try to be in bed by the time I am, alright? Hopefully that's not too late for someone your age..."

He trailed off, and had seemed to run out of ideas.

"That sound good?"

"Yeah."

You both sat in silence for a couple moments more before he hopped out of the chair.

"So, I guess I better show you your room, right..?"

You stood up to follow him down a hall in almost the corner of the living room. It was spacious and well lit, but almost felt empty for lack of decoration beyond hanging paintings.

He passed a door before turning to his left, his hair swaying the opposite direction before complying.

"This is the guest bedroom, you can stay here for now. Unless you like the other guest room better, though I haven't cleaned up since Nikolai last stayed.." This Nikolai seemed to be an interesting character to you. You weren't sure what type of person was allowed to make a mess in Mister Sigma's house.

He looked down to you, and smiled a little. "What do you think of Nikolai? He seemed to like you a lot."

You narrowed your eyes a little.

"Who's that?"

Mister Sigma almost seemed a little shocked. "You met him today, right? The one with white hair, in a braid."

Suddenly, the man with the card on his face came back to you. You let out a little "Ohh," before looking away.

That Nikolai definitely seemed like the type to be disorganized.

"Loud," you muttered, not sure how Mister Sigma would respond to hearing you say this. Instead of scolding you for saying rude things about other adults, he chuckled. "I'd say he is, isn't he?"

Mister Sigma turned away and motioned to a bed. He told you it was where you could sleep. It was larger than any bed you'd ever seen, a completely different world from the dry, tiny cots you had spent most of your slumber on. Then, he led you to a door beside the bed.

"Here's the restroom," he opened it, then closed it again. "Feel free to use any of the products in there."

He led you out through the bedroom door, and you made a note to yourself to explore the almost sparkling bathroom later. You hadn't even known a bathtub could be that big.

Down the hallway, he pointed out the other, less tidy guest bedroom, the other door to the bathroom, his office behind two glass doors, and finally his own bedroom.

"This is my room," he directed you. "Knock on the door if you need something."

Mister Sigma was firm about this, and even repeated it. How strange.

With that, your tour ended, and Mister Sigma began to walk back down the hall. You followed him, and he turned around.

"It's alright, we're finished. You can go off and explore, or get washed off if you'd like. I've got some work to do, so I'll be in my office."

You had to admit you were a little dissapointed at his leaving you. You had enjoyed watching his movements and picking up on his mannerisms. Mister Sigma moved quite smoothly, which was a comforting contrast to the janky and sudden movements of some people you'd met before.

As he paced away, you made your way back to the bathroom, hoping to figure out why anyone would need a tub that big.

☆ . ° • . ☆ * .°

Sigma closed the door to his office, and checking the outside to see that y/n was gone, let out a deep sigh. Halfway through trying to make up some house rules that weren't just reiterations of things he told Nikolai every time he visited, Sigma realized the reality of his situation.

He had absolutely no plan at all for this child.

While he'd been aware that he hadn't really been able to get any supplies, the full 18-wheeler only hit when he actually brought the kid into his home.

Sigma moved to his desk, and sat down while his computer booted up. He grabbed a notebook and clicked his pen open.He opened to a blank page, and for lack of a better title, wrote "Stuff for children" at the top.

Sigma crossed out "children" and wrote y/n, then held his pen over the name as if he were going to cross it out too.

Y/n hadn't really had as much energy as the children he'd met or even babysitted. However, they weren't necessarily shy either, and were even blunt at times.

He really didn't know what he needed to get for someone with no past and no belongings.

If anything, clothes would be a good start. Sigma also put down "shoes," as he didn't think a single pair of grippy socks would survive for long.

Before even turning to his computer, Sigma thought back to himself. When he'd first gotten out of the desert, he'd needed to do something like this for himself.

Back then, Sigma had felt a little lost. Now, he was almost grateful Dostoevsky left him to fend for himself.

Once he was in his flow, Sigma amassed a decent list of necessities for anyone who had appeared out of nowhere. Food, hair products, blankets, et cetera. Sigma had to admit that he may have indulged himself a bit by putting down hair products. Anyone who knew him knew he also loved things like that, as proved of the healthy quality of his hair.

The sound of the shower turning on snapped him back to reality. He told himself not to go that far, and that a six-year-old didn't care about things like that.

He left it on the list anyways.

Sigma, at a loss for what kinds of foods a child would eat, decided that he couldn't feed them the casino's food all the time. Maybe he ate it, but kids needed to grow.

Sigma leaned back in his chair. Maybe he needed to grow, too? Perhaps if he ate more than the casino's cooking, he'd grow taller than Dazai. Sigma shooed away that silly thought, because as far as he was concerned he was still a full-grown adult. He opened his browser and searched "what do kids eat."

The two-toned manager was almost blown away by how much information a single search gave him. Most of it was useless, marketing to him vitamin gummies and mineral water and special pressed juices that probably tasted atrocious. However, from his research, he gathered that he needed to buy more vegetables, chicken nuggets, juice, and candy.

Apparently, it was easier to handle children if you had candy.

Sigma, recalling his earlier trip to the fridge, realized that he only had vegetables and wine, which was technically juice. but not the type you'd give a six-year-old.

Sigma's heart dropped.

He and y/n would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs #sigma x y/n #bsd sigma #sigma bsd #sigma #sigma x reader #sigma bungou stray dogs

79 notes · View notes

galvanizedfriend · 29 days

Text

Fanfic Update: We'll Always Have New Orleans [4/14]

Summary: Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.

[Canon!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]

Chapter 4: Follow the Yellow Brick Road ✨

Caroline half expects to find Klaus standing guard outside her window like a creep to make sure she won't back out of their road trip - which, full disclosure, she did go back and forth on the merits of it several times throughout the night. The more she thinks about it, the more absurd it seems. It's one of those things where she has to close her eyes and jump before the seat of reason in her brain gets a chance to talk her out of it.

It's precisely why, upon waking up from a horridly slept night, Caroline tries to scrub her mind clear of any practical speculations such as Klaus is not to be trusted or This is too high a risk for something that is essentially a hunch or even Thirteen long hours in a car with Klaus - the last one gives her shudders for reasons she currently doesn't possess the required bandwidth to untangle. Instead, she punches a few essentials into a bag and braces herself for the unknown. Que sera, sera. How much worse can it get, really - she thinks, and then immediately backtracks. In Mystic Falls, whenever you think you've hit rock bottom, you realize there's a trap door and ten brand new layers of shit you can fall into and keep on falling until the end of times.

She chooses to take it as a good sign that Klaus is not outside. They agreed to meet at his place and, paranoid though he was, he seems to have decided to trust that she will keep her word. She reckons the bar is currently very low, but that's progress as far as she's concerned.

But there is something outside which should not be there and, as it turns out, is way worse than Klaus: a police car.

The Sheriff is home. Read the full chapter here -- Well, it's been a hot minute. 🥲 But in case anybody was wondering, no, the story is not abandoned, I'm just slow and have more wips than I can juggle. 🙃 This update is on the shorter side (by my standards) but it took a lot of rewriting compared to the original version. It's actually two chapters combined together (4 and 5). So that means the story will now be 14 chapters long instead of 15. Woohoo! 🥳 As always, your support, comments, kudos and reblogs mean the world to me if you are so inclined. Hope you enjoy the update!

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #kc fanfiction #klaroline shippers club #kcfic #klaroline fic #yokan writes

24 notes · View notes

foster-the-world · 2 months

Text

I love

I love when I get to hang out with any of my kids one on one. We need to make concentrated efforts to do it more often. I'm home with baby boy all week while my husband took the girls to Cali to see his parents/sister.

Baby boy is so much fun alone (as I've said a million times). We went to the Children's Museum and the MOMA kids art lab. Kids art lab was underwhelming but he enjoyed himself. Did a quick walk through of the art. He wasn't too impressed.

We had an indoor monkey bar system set up yesterday. It took the guys a lot longer then they planned. Last night I was regretting the choice. Felt a little too risky. I think I know how we can make it safer. Its supposed to be a part of his sensory diet. We used some funds we got when the DOE reimbursed for some OT costs.

Rebel was sick Thursday night. Thankfully fine all day Friday. Flew out very early on Saturday. His parents picked them up with masks and dropped them off at a hotel. They were supposed to go right to the cousins house and were scheduled to stay with his parents. I guess his parents were worried about the stomach bug. Which is understandable but I thought it was rude not too let my husband know beforehand. He got up at 4am to take two kids on a six hour flight by himself. He would have warned the girls they were expected to go isolate in a hotel room. Of course, my husband is a Saint and just went along with it. If my parents didn't see my girls for three months there is zero chance they would give up even one hour with them - sick or not. And they weren't even sick anymore. She never had a fever. Threw up 36 hours before. Anyway not my rodeo.

Baby boys ezcema is not good. His poor little cheeks. I guess its just the cold weather.

My own scalp is so, so, so itchy. Before the last month I've never in my life had this problem. No dandruff just itchy/burning. Its not a super bad pain level but its nonstop. It keeps me awake at night. I'm assuming its related to the low iron and the hair loss. Not sure what to do. Trying shampoos right now. Probably need to do some kind of eating changes but not sure exactly what and also don't want to. My skin is also itchy but that's less persistent. The skin is also something I'm used to when the weather gets cold like this.

DOE is giving new options for baby boy since they can't find providers. I'm on the fence. It involves a different school. Its not far away, is an inclusive classroom (8 special ed kids, 8 gen ed), would include all providers (OT, PT and speech) , and would include free summer camp which also includes all providers. These are all big benefits. Its a fancy private school - which is not our vibe. I guess they reserve some DOE spots. I don't really want my poorly behaved (but o so sweet) black boy to be a scholarship kid (in essence) in a school full of rich white kids. In their defense I think by private school standards it is more diverse then most. I don't want my kids to grow up with kids who think spending $60K a year for school is normal. I think it just gives a view of the world I don't want them to have. But that's more of a concern for older grades. Not an issue for 4yo's. He can go back to our little public school for K. We need to figure out a place for providers and this maybe our best option. The free summer camp is a big draw. I need somewhere that can handle kids like him. One that is paid for and includes his services would be a huge win. They do swimming lessons and teach Spanish. He's actually picking up some Spanish vocabulary (numbers, colors, animals) so a place where that can grow would be great. DOE is setting up a tour after winter break. I'm sure its a very nice facility. Let's see how it goes. I won't hold my breathe until a solution is actually implemented.

25 notes · View notes

hotluncheddie · 2 months

Note

Tell me if this is too much… Steddie scenario where one of them gets a new toy that the other is like, “Uh that’s too big, it won’t fit,” which turns into the other being stuffed until relaxed and horny and lubed up enough that it *does* fit, and he’s never come harder.

not too much not too much!!! very obsessed with thisssss

i noticed you’re making me pick who gets filled, u goblin 👹

i’m gonna go with steve. just bc i think he’d get off on the challenge. and i’m in my eddie going crazy watching steve do anything era.

also dunno how this turned into 3.8k but 😛

commence steve getting filled, in more ways than one..

[ rated: E | tags: chubby steve harrington, belly kink, stuffing, button popping, coming untouched, sex toys (big ones), established relationship ]

He brings it back after a 4 day trip visiting robin in Chicago. Apparently they’d gone out to the gay bars and Steve had, maybe, still been a little drunk when they stumbled into the sex shop the next morning.

(It had been before breakfast so he hadn’t been able to soak up the alcohol with a couple of the generously filled bagels from his favourite place. Or get the donuts he’d been craving from that one store - hadn’t stopped thinking about them since the last time he visited her.)

But basically he doesn’t think, he just sees that it’s big. Maybe too big. But he thinks about the word full, and he can’t help but buy it.

It’s bigger than Eddie, Eddie’s can admit that, he’s man enough. Looking down at it on the bed, this thing is kinda huge. But Steve just looks up at him, eyes all big and pleading, mouth a little pouty and Eddie knows he’s going to give Steve everything he asks for if it’s the last thing he does.

and Steve knows it too, knows it as he whispers his idea into eddies ear, with all the filthy little details. Smiles as he trails his hand up his boyfriends thigh, feels him hard in his jeans, just from talking about it.

Steves going to get exactly what he wants, he's going to be full.

They don’t set a date necessarily, but schedules line up and time frees and the next day is there for sleeping in and it just kind of happens.

Steve has a shower beforehand and stretches himself on his fingers. Lets Eddie watch as he works their biggest plug into himself, ready to let it sit there through the meal, a good start for what’s to come.

Steve thinks about his plans for later as he sucks in to button his too small shirt and tuck it into jeans are just getting tight, just starting to bite.

Eddie watches, loosing braincells and they haven’t even started yet.

They can't really go out to dinner, not like they want, like a real date. So Steve likes to make it special at home, set the table, light a couple candles, hold eddies hand across the tablecloth. It works.

He also couldn't eat the way he wants if they were out, or dress the way he has. And where’s the fun in that?

So they stay at home. It’s perfect.

Steve made lasagne.

Eddie has his standard serving and Steve works his way through the rest of the pan, more than enough for five, maybe six people. Eddie has two or three spices of garlic bread and Steve devours the loaf. Sopping up sauce, uncaring that it drips onto his shirt, stains his mouth.

Eddie helps him finish the last couple pieces, the last mouthfuls, cleaning the plate. Looking at Steve with so much adoration. Perched on his chair, knees between Steve’s spread thighs, Eddie trails his fingers through the gaps in Steve’s shirt. Where the buttons strain against his belly, windows of pale skin, threads ready to snap.

He pushes the last piece of greasy bread past Steve’s lips, hand exploring the hard crest of his belly. ‘Getting full baby?’ Eddie asks, plucking the button at the widest part. ‘Not even close’ Steve huffs, unable to take a full breath, but aching for more.

Steve grabs the quarter that’s left from the bottle of soda, brings it to his lips and chugs. Eyes closed but Eddie’s watching, watching the bubbles hit his stomach and round his belly impossibly bigger. ‘Oh’ Eddie says, awed. Steve feels his stomach surge forward, the faint sound of a button hitting the tile. He groans around his final gulps, other hand prodding and feeling where his belly’s broken through the shirt, stretched it to breaking. He moans and pants, finishing with a wet burp. Eddie’s hands never leaving, petting and prodding and kissing over his form.

Eddie takes the empty bottle, crowding into Steve’s space, panting into his mouth and Steve feels Eddie’s hard cock straining his jeans, grinding lightly against Steve’s exposed middle. ‘Ready for part two?’ Eddie asks, kissing Steve and dipping his tongue in to taste. Steve moans, sucking on Eddie’s tongue, he’s so ready.

They manage to make it to the bedroom eventually, between making out and Steve stopping to pant around his full stomach. Eddie stopping them just to grope at Steve’s plush sides and grind filthily against the plug in his ass. They make it to the bedroom.

Eddie strips Steve of his clothes slowly, savouring each button that’s left, watching it slide out of its hole with a ping, pulled apart by Steve girth, framing his round belly so nicely. Undoing Steve’s jeans and fly, knuckles against still soft underbelly, pulling them down to expose Steve’s dimpled thighs. He’s all hard and soft, muscle and soft pale chub, fullness and overindulgence over his whole broad frame.

They prop him against the pillows, nearly laying flat but not quiet, high enough to see Eddie over the crest of his belly, enough to comfortably spoon the soft tub of ice cream into his panting mouth. Pillow under his hips and knees bent to allow Eddie access to his greedy hole thats aching to be stretched. Pink all over like Steve’s weeping cock.

Eddie has to grind the heel of his hand into his own boxer clad dick. He’s so amazed by Steve already, popping his buttons, laying there so round and pretty, starting on the gallon of ice cream he’d requested. Just what he needs to get him there, stuffed enough, dazed enough, to reach his peak.

Steve squirms, ‘Eddie.’ He whines, sucking the spoon clean, impatient to get started. Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s belly and pressing two fingers against the plug. ‘I got you baby.’ He says, pulling it out and pushing it back in a few times. Watching Steve’s eyes flutter shut on a moan, lips pink and sticky and strawberry red as his desert.

Taking the plug out, Eddie squirts lube on his fingers, circling Steve’s shining hole. Still wet but Eddie wants it wetter, wants him soaking.

Three fingers slip in easily. Steve shoves more ice cream in his mouth. Eddie goes for four. Steve sighs, filling his mouth again, relishing in the stretch of his stomach and hole. He cants his hips slightly, feels Eddie’s fingers go deeper, brushing that spot. His belly sloshing and his hard cock bouncing against it, he moans, feels so big, so round.

Eddie scissors his fingers, leaning over Steve to lick into his mouth. Taste his berry red lips and feel the hard soft of Steve’s stomach against his flat one. ‘You ready baby?’ Eddie asks leaning away enough to look in Steve’s eyes, pupils blown wide. ‘Ready to be full?’ And Steve whines, pulls Eddie’s head back down to crash their mouths together, all spit and tongue and heat. Steve turns away first, panting again, can’t hold his breath from all the food inside him. ‘Pl-please Eddie.’ he says, whiny, desperate, gulping for air. shoving more fatty desert in his mouth.

Eddie grabs the toy from behind him, holding it in his hands for a sec, taking in the weight and girth against his palms. He looks at Steve through his lashes, brings the tip up to his mouth and kisses it. Steve can’t pull his eyes away, spoon moving slower now from tub to waiting mouth. Eddie takes the attention in his stride, slipping the thick head past his lipe, groaning at how quickly the girth fills him up, almost makes him gag. ‘Fuck.’ Steve breaths and Eddie slips his eyes open, watching the melted ice cream fall off Steve’s spoon and onto his hairy pecs, enamoured by Eddie’s display. He pushes the toy an inch further, fucking his own mouth, making himself gag. Steve whines again.

Eddie pulls off, panting slightly. But he smirks as Steve moves a little again, humping his hips into the air couple times, making his cock bob and slap against his belly. ‘I got you baby.’ Eddie soothes, voice raspy, making them both leak.

Eddie coats the toy, some dripping onto the bed, and circles the tip around Steve’s loose rim. He pops just the head inside right as Steve shoves the spoon in his mouth again, just to watch his eyes roll back on a moan. It’s so hot. Eddie pushes a couple inches more in, Steve pants, eyes closed tight. Eddie pulls out a fraction and goes back in, adding a little more. ‘Oh my god Eddie, oh my god.’ Steve babbles, delirious. Shivering at the intrusion, the stretch at his hole and pull at his stomach.

Eddie dips forward, hand holding the toy still within Steve. He licks up the fallen ice cream from Steve’s chest hair, sucking a round pink nipple into his mouth. His pecs have gotten so thick and pretty lately, like a real set of tits, Eddie’s never been a boob man but he’s obsessed with Steve’s. ‘Fuck baby.’ Eddie moans, switching to the other pec and opening his mouth wide, trying to fit the whole thing inside, licking at the little pink stretch mark he has there.

Steve moans, fingers coming to tangle in Eddie’s curls and push his face further into his own softness. ‘Oh god Eddie, Eddie please.’ He says as Eddie pushed the toy in further, slowly filling Steve to the brim.

Eddie pulls away, eyes hooded and dark, staring at Steve’s open mouth. ‘How, how far is it?’ Steve asks, voice high, and needy.

Sitting back on his haunches Eddie looks down at the toy in his hands, ‘about half way baby, you’re doing so good Stevie, taking it so well.’ Eddie says, amazed by how Steve’s thick body is eating up the length, stretching to accommodate. ‘Just relax a little more for me yeah? Did you finish your desert?’

Steve’s hands have stopped scooping, his head resting back on the pillows. ’Ed’s, Eddie, need help.’ he whines, gesturing vaguely to his distended belly. He must be getting really full, his stretch marks shining and bellybutton jumping with each gulp and hiccup of breath.

Eddie takes the ice cream to see what’s left, mostly soupy and melted now, about half to go. He licks the spoon clean and tosses it aside, keeps the tub close by on the bed and pushes his knee against the flat hilt of the toy. He rest both hands gently against the widest curve of Steve’s stomach, packed tight with food. ‘I got you baby, just relax for yeah? Just a little more. Just need a little more room don’t you?’ He soothes, rubbing his hands over the dome, fingers dipping into the layer of pudge. Grabbing the still soft section of overhang and tracing the roll of spare tire that travels all around Steve’s scarred hips.

Steve stars to release wet little burps along with his moans, sinking further into the pillows he relaxes even more, opening up, letting the toy in.

‘So so good baby, you’re almost there, just a little more for me now.’ and Steve looks up, blinks his sleepy sugar high eyes at Eddie. Licks the lips of his sweet needy mouth as the tub gets passed back to him. ‘More.’ he begs, like a prayer, ’full.’ Like it’s sacred. Tipping the tub back and letting the thick liquid take him there, that ultimate feeling.

Steve gulps as much as he can, skin and insides stretch tight, full to the brim. He burps again, ‘m’full, m’so full Eddie.’ He manages, letting his hand roam the stretched wide ball of his belly. Grabbing onto his underbelly to squeeze and lift the whole impossibly large thing. ‘Feel so fucking big, so fucking full.’ He’s so stretched open, so packed tight.

Eddie watches, awed, as Steve manhandles himself, making his soft parts jiggle around his distended gut. He looks down at the toy, so close to being all the way in, Steve’s cock sitting heavy and red and leaking just above.

‘Tell me what you want baby.’ Eddie pleads, so amazed by Steve, by his love. Taking to toy so well, eating so much, pushing himself to the limits again.

Steve shifts like he wants to move, but flops back down quickly, panting. ‘Jus, just want to be full Eddie please.’ He begs and Eddie kissed over his stomach again, swirling his tongue into Steve’s bellybutton just to hear him moan. ‘I got you. Just a little more.’

Steve nods vaguely, bringing the tub back to his lips. Draining the rest, swallowing the cool creamy liquid as fast as he can, letting it land in any remaining cracks and crevices. And Eddie pushes the toy in the rest of the way, right to the flat base, all the way in. Filling his baby up just like he asked for.

‘Oh, oh my god Eddie.’ Steve whines, delirious. Completely and utterly stuffed. He tosses the empty tub aside and gropes at himself, toes curling and hips canting just to feel his swollen belly move.

He’s never felt so stretched, so split open and big, so round and stuffed and finally, finally, full.

Eddie pulls the toy out a fraction and fucks in back in, sticking his tongue back into Steve’s wide sensitive belly button, sucking and swirling as he moves the toy in and out of Steve’s writhing frame. Everything building and growing and stretching. Steve’s mind and body and soul ready to snap to fall over the precipice.

Eddie pushed his face further into Steve’s stomach, against the impossible fullness, licking and kissing and sucking while his hand moves the toy. Steve thinks, vaguely, that if he was still skinny you might be able to see the toy in his abdomen, see it bulge. But as he is there no hope, too much food and fat and indulgence between. He puts his hands on either side of his belly, feeling how wide it’s gotten, how big he is.

Eddie slams the toy back in, catching Steve’s prostate as he goes.

Steve wails.

Eddie feels hot wet cum hit his chin. Steve releasing untouched all over his packed belly. Eddie keeps fucking the toy, milking Steve’s cock with his hand, watching the final pearls slip out of him as he pants and stills. Cheeks red and eyes glassy.

‘So fucking pretty. God Steve, you, I can’t believe you.’ Eddie says smearing Steve’s cum on his boxers as he ruts against his stomach, leaning forward to kiss Steve all over, lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue.

‘Ed- Eddie. Fuck, fuck me, please.’ Steve whimpers, voice small and pleading. Eddie almost comes from the sound alone.

‘Yeah?’ he asks, ridiculously hard. ‘You want me cum in you baby?’ He takes off his boxers and licks a stripe up the underside of Steve cock, over the slit, wanting to taste.

Steve just moans, splayed out on the bed, spent and held under the weight of his full gut. ‘Pl-please’ he slurs, wanting Eddie, wanting to be full of Eddie now.

Eddie soothes him, petting over his thighs and pulling the toy out of Steve slowly. He groans, watching Steve’s pink hole stay stretched and open as he reaches the narrower tip. ‘Fuck Steve. You’re gonna be so loose.’ And he pushes the toy back in a little, rubbing against Steve’s prostate, watching his cock get hard again as he continues to moan, wanton and floaty from the top of the bed. Never fully coming down from his orgasm, still stuck in that amazingly full headspace.

Eddie finally takes the toy out, after fucking the whole impossible length in and out. Once Steve’s cock is hard and red in his hand again, wanting to get his baby off twice, just for being so amazing tonight, taking so much so well. He pets over Steve’s wet hole, easily slipping four fingers in. ‘M’not gonna last baby, but gonna fill you up, kay? Fill you up and put the toy back in so you feel me for days. Gonna wake you up tomorrow by filling you again, you’re gonna be loose for me baby, gonna be so easy to slip inside.’ Eddie babbles, delirious and turned on.

Steve’s mostly still he’s so spent. Just letting out a series of needy whines and whimpers, lost in the filth of Eddie’s words, the feeling of his heavy body.

Finally sliding his aching cock into Steve’s wet heat Eddie’s back arches, face to the ceiling. ‘Fuck.’ He moans.

He rocks his hips and grabs Steve’s thighs for purchase. Relentlessly fisting Steve’s cock, circling his hips and relishing in how stretched Steve is, how loose and wet and perfect he is. ‘Together, come again for me baby, with - with me.’ Eddie pants, gripping Steve’s belly with one hand, sinking his fingers in.

‘Eddie.’ Steve whines finally lifting his head back up. Eyes glossy and distant, mouth panting and so so pretty. He’s so pretty. Fucked out and loose. Hopelessly, helplessly stuffed. ‘Gonna, m’gonna.’ He manages, a tear slipping out and falling into his sweaty hair.

Eddie stares at him, looks down at his hand fisting Steve’s cock, his own cock fucking in and out of Steve’s hole. Watches how the movement makes Steve’s body wobble, belly swaying and bouncing with each of Eddie’s thrusts. ‘Fuck. Fuck.’ He says watching Steve’s eyes roll back in his head, body tensing and grabbing at his own mass again, leaking and coming all over himself for a second time tonight.

Eddie can’t hold it. His vision sparks and bursts and he releases buried deep inside. Filling Steve up, fucking it in and out of him. Squeezing and grinding and loosing himself in it.

Eventually they come back up for air. Come back down to earth.

Eddie slips out and crawls around to Steve’s side, up close so he can see his face and cradle his cheek. He wipes a tear away, kissing his jaw and slack lips, whispering praise into his hair. Until Steve is breathing more normally again, still short but not actively panting, coming back down from his high.

‘I’m gonna go get something to clean us up okay baby?’ Eddie asks, not wanting to leave Steve alone without confirmation, he drifted so far, took so much so well.

Steve blinks his big glassy eyes at Eddie slowly, smiling all dopey once he focuses on Eddie’s face. Steve looks down at Eddie’s lips and pouts his slightly for a kiss. Eddie smiles and obliges, he’s so cute. ‘Jus’ don’t be long.’ Steve says, eyelids drooping again. ‘Wanna cuddle.’ And Steve shimmies down the bed a little as best he can, sinking more comfortable into the pillows. He shivers as he feels Eddie’s cum leak out of his hole, it almost feels numb after the toy split him open the way it did.

He stops moving when his belly sloshes uncomfortably, still digesting his huge meal but he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt so content, so spent and satiated. He’d never been so full.

Eddie comes back with tissues and a towel, wiping between Steves legs gently and easing the pillows from under his hips. Steve sighs, he loves how careful and caring Eddie is after they do something like this, after Steve pushes himself. It took a little while, coaxing and tentative, but once they realised how much they both enjoy stuffing Steve’s to the brim it was like the floodgates opened and they haven’t looked back. Just another pilar in their love, another aspect of how much they adore each other. Steve feels like the luckiest guy in the world, to have Eddie.

Eddie wipes over Steve’s chest and face, ridding him of any lingering spit and stickiness. Kissing as he goes. Steve’s really fighting sleep now but he wants to lay on his side, wants Eddie to spoon him and fall asleep with Eddie’s hand on where his belly now rests on the bed.

But Steve wants to see that pretty blush on Eddie’s cheeks one more time, tease him like he did when he first showed him the toy.

Steve lets Eddie pull more pillows away from behind his head, laying down flatter and more normally, getting them ready for sleep. Steve rocks a little, huffing and attempting to roll into his side. For a second putting his full strength into it, just to see. And, dizzyingly, he’s kind of really is that full, that tired and round, that it would be an actual effort to get himself over on his own.

He doesn’t tell Eddie he could, not yet, he just lets Eddie see it’s a struggle. ‘Help baby, please.’ He whines, looking up through his lashes and seeing Eddie stopped in his tracks, hand still where it was wiping the damp towel over his own flat stomach.

Steve half pushes on his elbows again, trying to shift his weight over but flops back flat quickly enough, huffing with half fake effort and blinking up at Eddie.

‘Fuck.’ Eddie whispers. Steve thinks he sees his cock jump. And he can’t help but smile, relishing in the attention and lust he can get Eddie to give him, look at him with.

Eddie grabs Steve’s outstretched hand, other coming to the roll of his waist. counting down softly and then tugging to tip Steve over. Steve helps and then adjusting his belly slightly, letting it rest soft and round next to him, filling up more of the bed that he ever thought imaginable. He trails his finger over it, over the stretch marks and scars. dipping into his wide bellybutton and snuggling down into the pillows.

Eddie’s still staring at him. Amazed by Steve’s change. Amazed that they can have nights like this now, wrapped up in each other. Nothing to hide from that’s more than an extra bill or an annoying neighbour. No monsters, no gashes in the ceiling. They can just be together, safe and in love, exploring each others wants and desires.

And that feeling covers Steve on the outside, over his chest and hips and thighs. That rest, that relaxation and safety. All soft skin and chubby belly.

Eddie throws out the tissues and tosses the towel in the hamper. Crawling into bed next to Steve, pulling the sheets over them both and kissing all over his neck and shoulders. Nuzzling into the hair that curls around his neck, wrapping him up in his arms and sliding up as close as he can, right up against Steve’s broad scarred back. He squeezes him, holding his belly and breathing him in.

Steve sighs, sinking into Eddie’s hold, sinking into the sheets. He feels sleep curling at his eyelids and mind, letting the food and exertion take over finally.

They fall asleep, wrapped up in each other. Hands entwined over Steve’s full stomach.

hehe

ao3

wg writing tag list (open) : @scoops-aboy86 , @cheesedoctor , @chickensinrainboots

#this has so many elements of different kinks lol #for fun!#<3 #hotlunch #ask #steddie wg #chubby steve harrington #weight gain writing

22 notes · View notes