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mangoshorthand · 1 year

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Flesh and Blood- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch6 (Hard Feelings Part 3)

SUMMARY: As Christmas approaches, everything between you and Five is perfect...until a destructive temporal anomaly gets in the way. Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship Five Hargreeves: could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him? Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

As the portals grow ever stronger, you and Five come to an extreme decision.

Mild body horror. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter Six: Handover

Today, you lie on the couch by the fire, trying to get comfortable. It’s harder these days; your body isn't your own- you're sharing it with someone else who had no qualms about kicking the everloving shit out of you from the inside, and that's without considering the portals. Getting comfortable is nearly impossible without the aid of several pillows placed at strategic points beneath you. With a blast of cold air, Five enters the cabin with more wood collected from the outbuilding. His under-eyes are purple. You stretch out a hand to him.

“Sit with me.”

He drops the dry logs beside the stove, “I can’t. I have to check the perimeter again.”

The Commission troubled him. The pair of you have been here for weeks now. Where were they? The fact that they hadn't turned up was sinister in itself...but he doesn't know what it means.

“Fiiive," you moan, "everything hurts. My ankles are killing me, my back hurts and it’s your fault.”

He smiles, “What can I say? Sorry for my crazy strong sperm. But I’m busy.”

Your mood, more unpredictable with every passing day, suddenly plummets. Your lip trembles and face heats up. He looks over as you sniffle and hesitates for a split second, tilting his head as he puts his hands in his pockets. When the tears begin to fall, he sighs and comes over to you, sitting on the other end of the couch and lifting your feet onto his lap.

“Come on now, what’s all this?”

You breathe in wetly, “What’s this doing to my body? Will I even be able to carry another baby after this?”

He sighs, “Definitely not another one of mine.”

He strokes your calves bracingly, hiding his own hurt behind assumed stoicism.

“And-” your crying intensifies, “y-you won’t want me any more anyway. My body’s going to go to shit and you won’t think I’m sexy.”

“You’re worried I won’t find you sexy?”

“There’s going to be even more stretch marks and loose skin and my tits will go and the baby's going to wreck my pussy on the way out and-”

“You’re being stupid.”

“STUPID?”

“Yeah, actually, you are."

Your momentary rage turns back to wild sobs as his upper lip curls, angrily.

"You honestly think that little of me? After all this?"

You just sob, unable to formulate a response under the combined stress of the hormonal flare up and his raising voice. He doesn't capitulate; just keeps staring at you expectantly, eyebrows raised and head thrust forward as if to say: Well?

"F-Fuck you!" you bite out, more tears coming. You pull your legs off his lap and as far up as they will go towards your chest with your belly in the way. Your sobs aren't controlled, they don't even sound like you. There's a rational part of you buried deep inside that knows this.

Five scoffs, folds his arms and turns his head away, one knee jogging up and down. Eventually, when you just carry on crying, he speaks in clipped tones:

"You know I love you. And you think I'm so shallow that I'd stop wanting you because your body carried my kid? I'm not an idiot. I know bodies change. Hell, I know what I look like naked in my late fifties and that sure as hell ain't pretty."

He rubs at his tired eyes and breathes out slowly. When he speaks again, his voice is softer.

"Come on now, stop crying."

"I-I-I" you stammer out, too breathless and too overwrought to form your roiling insecurity into a sentence.

"I know. I'm sorry I yelled. I'm just...so tired. Come on. I overreacted. I guess that wasn't really about me, was it?"

Your sobs abate to a small degree as you shake your head. He continues as he eases your legs back onto his lap:

"For the record, I'm not going to stop wanting you, but I get that you're scared about everything coming up. If anyone should know about your body changing in ways outside your control, it's me. You'll heal, dearest. Anything that changes...you get used to it. And maybe you even grow to like it."

You sniffle, soothed by his warm touch,

"It's not the same," you mumble, as his hand moves to the stretched skin of your belly.

“I know. But how about later I’ll show you how hot I find you right now? Only, just promise me you won’t cry, because that is a turn-off.”

You give a shaky laugh as he begins to massage your ankles. It feels nice. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh. He moves to the arches of your feet, adeptly kneading tension away. This draws a little moan.

“That sounds good.”

You nod in reply as the baby shifts suddenly inside you. They've been giving little flutters throughout the conversation with him.

“Baby can hear you,” you grin, “recognizes your voice.”

“Yeah?” he forgets your feet and lays both hands on your stomach, “hey little one…you in there?”

He beams at you as he feels your skin shift beneath his fingers, eyes shining in a way uncommon to him. He looks boyish again.

“There it is…wow. Hello in there. Listen junior, you gotta stop with the portals- it’s a real pain in the ass.”

He kneels on the floor beside you, placing his ear on your belly.

“You’d better be the sweetest kid when you come out of there; Daddy's gonna have to get a vasectomy because of you. Yes he is. Shit- there it is again!” he looks at you, indicating the ripple on your skin where he can see the imprint of a tiny limb.

“Try singing.” you suggest.

He looks nonplussed for a second, and then turns his lips to your stomach.

“On a dark desert highway, Cool wind in my hair,”

He lets out a little breathy laugh as the baby moves again, responding to his voice.

“Warm smell of colitas, Rising up through the air…”

He sings as much as he remembers, laughing a little every time the baby moves. His warm breath and low, deep voice lull you to sleep.

When you wake, it's full dark outside. You know he climbed back onto the couch beside you and you think he slept too, but now he’s in the armchair, elbows on his spread knees and head in hands.

“I don’t know how long we can go on like this.”

You discussed and revolved situation again and again. The more the baby grew, the stronger the portals became and the more Five struggled to contain them. What was more, you started to feel immense stomach pain every time one happened. It felt as if the baby was about to burst from your body, Alien-style, or else your uterus collapse in on itself.

As the months went on, the episodes became almost unbearable. Once, the skin on your swollen stomach tore and bled as it was stretched by immense pressure within. When Five finally got that one under control, he sat down next to you and held you as you cried.

Every episode left you both exhausted and you could tell the effort of closing them was taking a real toll on him; mentally as well as physically. The snow, so charming when you’d first got here was now just something else to make this situation more intense, to make you feel more isolated from the rest of the world.

“You were right. We can’t go on like this.” you murmured one night, lying up against him while he held an ice pack to your stinging stomach.

"We just need to hold on until the portals stop. Once the baby's brain is developed enough."

"But it's getting worse, Five. I'm not going to be able to carry to term if they keep getting stronger."

He rested his other hand on your stomach and stayed like that for a while, clearly thinking hard.

“You’re nearly thirty weeks. If we can manage until then, the baby has a really good chance. Once they’re out, I don’t think this will happen anymore. I think it’s partly a reaction to my powers- our powers-” he pats your stomach, “being incompatible with pregnancy in a typical woman.”

“Are you talking about having me induced?”

“Yes.”

“But…” you thought about this, “The plan was to wait it out here for a natural birth. We can’t risk going to a hospital. The strength the portals are getting, someone might be sucked in before you can work out how to counteract them.”

"We'll have to risk it."

"No Five. I'm not having someone else's death on my conscience. It has to be here."

His lips pursed and eyebrows contracted, doubtfully.

"Then...I find one OB-GYN and bring them here."

"You mean kidnap an OB-GYN and put them in danger? No Five. Remember Sarah?"

He did. Since the JUICED incident, her terrified face had recurred to him in ways none of his other victims had.

"Okay." he'd sighed, "I don't suppose you got any OB-GYN friends we could ask?"

"No," you laughed, "Only linguists, chemists and a philosopher who does a shitload of benzo."

He laughed too before falling into a reverie. He repositioned the ice pack and drummed his fingers on it a little.

“I suppose I could try.”

You looked up at him, “try what?”

“To induce you, here. I know the rudiments, and with a bit of research I think I’d have a good chance.”

“’Chance’ isn’t exactly a reassuring word, Five.”

“You have a point…but I think you both might die if this goes on for much longer.”

You sat there for a while, realizing that there was no good way out of this. Finally, you came to a decision.

“My body isn’t coping, is it?”

And so, you decided.

In the lead up to your thirtieth week of pregnancy, Five studies fiercely using an old laptop he'd found in a closet- presumably something Klaus picked up on his travels. Together, you absorb as many birth and obstetrics resources as you can find, reading paper after paper on induction methods, risks and the care of babies born ten weeks premature.

The cabin's internet is patchy, but good enough. Five had worked as hard as possible to hide the laptop's information from any Commission field agents on the lookout, accessing a complex TOR network via the best VPN he could find...as much as he tries to convince himself of the opposite, part of him knows they're not coming. It makes his stomach squirm every time he allows himself to think it.

Between you, you form a plan: a hormonal pessary would be used to dilate your cervix. This achieved, Five would rupture the membranes behind the dilated cervix, breaking your waters. From this point, a natural birth should follow. After birth, the premature baby stowed safely in a portable incubator, he would them transport you both to the small, rural hospital nearby for some proper post-natal and NICU care.

To this end, Five had risked contacting his family via the laptop and provided them with this 'shopping list'. It was good to hear Klaus and Lila's voices: they had agreed to committing this targeted thievery with enthusiasm and had contacted you in no more than two days to report that they’d been successful.

“We got you a full maternity unit.” says Lila, grinning proudly over the video call.

“It’s the one type of drug use I don’t know much about.", explains Klaus, "but there was this nice doctor ghost guy who helped. He told me that I better take some synthetic oxytocin too; because then if the...contractions don’t start after breaking the waters, you stick 1 ml of it into your thigh and it gets you all...ready to rumble.

He winces at the idea.

“How’s Santi?” you ask.

“He already told Alyssa and Anthony how he grew back a whole arm. It’s his favorite story,” says Lila, rolling her eyes, “there goes keeping his powers on the down-low. Every time anyone in the class gets a grazed knee or a sniffle he cures it. Like he's Jesus Christ of the fuckin' playground."

You laugh and 'aww' over this, but Five only smiles in acknowledgment before returning to business:

“We need to work out how we’re going to do the handover. You can’t come near us but we need to stick together in case another portal erupts.”

“Ok, but be warned, there’s a shitload of stuff."

“Yeah, everyone’s going a little crazy, " Klaus chuckles, "Sloane put together a Mom-to-be care package and I had to stop Luther setting you up a registry at Target. Viktor got you twelve weeks of baby Mozart classes.”

You're touched by this, putting a hand to your chest, but Five just scoffs.

“Like you can talk?” says Lila, raising an eyebrow, “I seem to remember when Santi was born you got him a book called Quantum Physics for Babies”

Five smiles reminiscently, “Guess I did. I suppose I was just worried he’d turn out like you guys.”

“I’ve not missed you.” Lila replies.

“Likewise.”

The handover is today. To keep everybody safe, the plan was for Klaus to pull up beside the tree-lined dirt road just off the county highway: this was the nearest he could get without encountering roads made totally impassable by snow. After he had retreated to a safe distance, you and Five would approach on the Snowcat, under the cover of the trees, pick up the package and drive back.

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE HUGE!" he yells as Five assists you down from the vehicle.

Either not noticing or ignoring Five's wild gesticulations for quiet, he continues.

"I MEAN GOOD HUGE; SEXY HUGE. YOU'RE LIKE THAT KLIMT PAINTING."

“SHUT UP KLAUS!” Five whisper-yells as you wave back at him, unzipping your coat to show him the swell of your stomach.

Ninety feet away, Klaus exaggeratedly zips his mouth closed and blows you a kiss. Then, waving one more time, he gets into the car beside him, turns round and drives off back down the road, waving out of the open window.

“Idiot,” mutters Five, squinting into the trees, reassuring himself that you really are alone. When he’s satisfied, he turns back to the huge crate and attempts to lift it into the back of the Snowcat, “Holy shit, what’s in here?”

He waves you away as you try to help.

“You can’t be lifting things in your condition.”

He manages to lever it up with a little noise of effort.

“Let’s-”

And then immense pain deep inside: unraveling, magnetic force pulling. You give a strangled yell as your knees give out and you fall to the forest floor.

“Five!”

Another gulping blue void. Energy like the flow of water rippling in on itself and self-perpetuates like an alternator, using its own inward force. You don’t see this, you can only screw up your eyes against the pain. You hear him drop the box unceremoniously onto the back of the vehicle and set his feet more firmly in the snow.

“It’s ok: hold on!”

You’re writhing on the floor, breathing only in squeals of pain and face contorting as if pulled by a harsh drawstring. He has to concentrate: just feel the resonance and counteract it. The trees around you creak, towering pines rustling and bending slightly towards the portal in their midst. He feels his feet slide a little.

“Help me!”

He forces down the panic and sympathy that rise to his chest at your cry, closing his eyes and focusing on nothing but the feel of the portal against his outstretched fingertips- the fractured nonsense behind its eruption. He shuts the door firmly against your yells, searching for the cool detachment he uses when he needs to kill. He has to feel nothing. No empathy.

But your shrieks worm their way under his mental door. They work their way between the hinges and through the keyhole. They pull at him like tendrils, his stomach clenching in spite of himself.

“I’m working on it. It’s okay, dear one.”

This has to be dying. You hold your swollen belly as if it will help, as if your uterus won’t rip out of your body and be consumed, leaving exposed organs and an eviscerated, hopelessly destroyed body behind. He grunts with effort somewhere behind you, manipulating his power to counteract the baby’s. But it’s no good. It’s no good. With what feels like the last of your strength, you scream out:

“I love you!”

He doesn’t reply. He can feel sweat coursing down his face, his teeth gritted and veins standing out on his flexing and shaking fingers.

And then he finds it: he conceptualizes it like a lock. He focuses all his power on finding the oppositional frequency and creating a ‘key’. He lets it overtake him, finally finding the emotionless logic he needs. With a final yell, muffled by the snow, he draws his arms together and the portal dispels.

You’re conscious, stirring weakly and still whimpering. He wills his body towards you: it’s like he’s feeling too much air resistance; as if he’s moving through time as it reverses. Despite the exhaustion, he scoops you up with a roar of effort and staggers back to the Snowcat, depositing you in the cab.

“I love you too. You’re going to be ok.”

He unzips your coat, lifts your layers of clothing and inspects your belly. The skin has torn again, more deeply this time. He runs his hand over the rest of your bump and feels the baby moving inside. It reassures him. Standing on the tread of the Snowcat, leaning through the door, he rests his head on your thumping chest and allows himself a second’s respite.

"I think we need to use this stuff today.”

“Yes.” you breathe.

“We need to sleep, but then we’ll do it.”

“Okay.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03. Here is a link to the whole series

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fixfoxnox · 1 year

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If you have any free time im requesting some camboy au headcanons about roach :0? Or letters to love headcanons about roach!!

Let's do some Letters headcanons! I haven't done one for Letters Roach and it gives me an opportunity to explain some things for the story!

Warnings: Stalker type behavior from Makarov, nsfw implied, slight non-con mentioned

Trans! Roach in the letters universe, which you guys probably knew, but he didn't come out until he was about sixteen

He is currently in his early-mid twenties in the fic and has been transitioning since he came out

Only person who knew he was trans earlier than sixteen was Eddie

Eddie is still a doctor in this AU and provided Roach with fantasy hormone blockers until he was ready to come out

So Roach essentially never hit a female puberty which has worked out for him because he doesn't have to bind his chest or anything

He was raised with a females education because he didn't come out until later

When he did come out, there was discussion of sending him through the classes for male aristocrats, but he would have been learning with small children, so they decided to just teach him the basics

For this reason Roach has no idea how to really fight (outside of a few things that we'll get to later), no idea how to hunt, and is a little less educated on things like war tactics, math, and history (he's learning though!)

Roach earned Makarov's affection when they were very young, which is part of why he doesn't remember it

Makarov was about eight while Roach was about five

Essentially Makarov was being a pouty bratty young prince

Little Roach got tired of it and came over to smack him with a book and tell him to shut the fuck up with his tantrum because he was trying to make flower crowns

Roach got in trouble for it, but Makarov was already smitten and it did not help that Roach later apologized to him with one of the flower crowns he made

Makarovs obsession was mostly innocent until he hit puberty then he started getting full on creepy and weird which is most of what Roach remembers

Roach and Jackson became bffs in this AU when they were kids. They were around the same age and their families estates are right next to each other, so it just made sense

Jonathan and Eddie fully believed that Roach and Jackson were sneaking around together when they were teens

Technically they weren't wrong, its just that rather than having sex, Roach and Jackson were going into town together and sneaking back to the estates with stray cats (the estates still have a cat problem because of them)

Makarov fucking despises Jackson, but he can't say or do shit because Jackson's family are the Kingdom's record keepers/treasurers

A list of creepy things that Makarov has done to Roach in this AU:

Stolen some of his clothes

Cut a piece of his hair to keep

"Accidentally" spilled wine, water, and mead on him several times

Had specific outfits made and sent to him (and since he's the prince, guess what Roach was wearing to any functions??)

Had copies of any portraits made of Roach made for himself (as well as hired some artists to draw Roach for him secretly)

Bought literally the exact same fragrances that Roach uses just so he can spray them in his room (and be creepy)

Followed him around secretly and made visits to Roach's families estate to sneak into his room

Literally tried to start rumors about the two of them to try and force them to be married

Straight up felt him up several times during big events where he could get away with it during like dancing and what not

There's other stuff but thats just some of the stuff off of the top of my head shdhdhdjjd

Roach is known for his penmanship in his kingdom! Its a highly valued skill in the kingdom and he's penned out letters for the royals before (including Makarov)

So when Soap is like 👁👄👁 with how fancy Roach's letters are, he was not exaggerating, like Roach is very very skilled

Soap is only Roach's third kiss in his life, not necessarily because there haven't been people interested, but rather that Roach hasn't been interested (take your guesses on who the other two kisses were lol)

Because Makarov is so solely interested and focused on Roach, Roach tends to get a lot of flak from other noble families

They want their own daughters/sons to marry the prince, so its very frustrating to them that Makarov has shown no interest in even trying with anyone other than Roach

It doesn't help that everyone can see how uninterested Roach is in the attention. They consider that to be a huge disrespect

So Roach has very few friends/support among the nobility, something that his mother has tried to fix but has often just resulted in Roach sitting in a room being made fun of all day

One last one: Roach is very much deeply attracted to the idea that Soap is a warrior king and has seen so much battle and all that, but he absolutely will not admit it

That shit is staying in his fantasies until after he is married thank you very much

#thoughts with luke #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #vladimir makarov #call of duty #letters to love

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sailforvalinor · 1 year

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Okay, I know I said I’m not planning on doing this modern Eight Cousins/Rose in Bloom AU, and I’m still not, but I have had a bunch of ideas floating around in my brain. Maybe I’ll write a few snippets or something? Anyway, just to get them out of my brain:

In our modern AU, Rose and Alec won't be related to the Campbells--Alec is such a close friend of the Campbell family (particularly Uncle Mac and Aunt Jane) that the title of "uncle" is honorary. (Gonna have to give them a different last name then...hmmmm...)

They all live on the same street/in the same neighborhood to allow for lots of childhood hijinks.

In replacement of their “circus,” the boys drive around a 20-year-old 15-passenger van that used to belong to their church. It is old, but it’s well kept-up—the Campbells, however affluent they may be, don’t believe in letting things go to waste. Also, the thought of Archie driving six boys around in a dilapidated van like a tired soccer mom amuses me.

Perhaps Phebe is being fostered by the family next door? (She ends up adopted by Uncle Alec eventually, of course.)

The Rose in Bloom era will begin as Rose is starting college

Rose just came back from a gap-year program—she could’ve started the same year as Mac, but Uncle Alec wanted to keep her another year. (Phebe went with her, probably?)

The immediate gut instinct is to make Charlie the popular jock, but it’s actually more textually supported to make him the popular, slightly-unhinged theatre kid who always gets all the main roles. His major is, of course, undecided. (Maybe he’s also a year behind?)

Mac is biology pre-med, but he probably just switched from philosophy or physics or something. (Probably tacks on an English or Writing minor somewhere along the way.)

Unsure about Rose—business or social work?

Archie graduated a year early and went straight into the workforce (doing what though, I’m not sure)

Phebe is studying music, but refuses to let Uncle Alec pay for any of it, and is trying to earn her way through by working multiple jobs at the same time.

Steve would also be starting this year, but honestly I don't know what to do with him. However much he may desire to emulate Charlie, Aunt Jane would be sure to force him to pick a major...perhaps communication?

Since they live so close to the university, they all live at home (Phebe couldn't talk Uncle Alec out of that one), with the exception of Charlie--he managed to convince Aunt Clara to let him live on-campus. As I'm sure you can imagine, this only serves to worsen all the trouble he gets up to.

Speaking of the trouble Charlie gets up to, instead of the Major Incident involving him coming home drunk after New Year's, perhaps it involves him getting caught with alcohol on their (dry) campus.

I honestly don't know if I'm going to have him die in this one. I probably should, because it kind of interrupts the integrity of the story if he doesn't die...but part of me wants him to see Rose and Mac together so he can see what a respectful man looks like, lol. But he will probably still end up dying in a car crash, unfortunately.

Actually, perhaps Rose’s three month “experiment” is that she wants to try living on-campus for a bit, which Uncle Alec is hesitant about, and then she decides to move back home the semester after Charlie’s whole incident. I’m mostly doing this because I want Rose and Kitty Van to be roommates, because that would be outrageously funny

Mac carries a flip-phone, which drives Steve insane, and has threatened to go Luddite on more than one occasion--but never actually would, as he's way too into the modern conveniences of downloadable music for that. Carries a little ipod nano around. He does have a laptop for school, though. Knows a lot about recent technological advances and will regale anyone with his knowledge at the slightest provocation, but will also lecture about how detrimental social media is in the same breath. He doesn't even have a Facebook. ("Even Aunt Plen has a Facebook," Steve moans. "Right, didn't you say that Facebook was for, and I quote, 'old people'?" "Well yeah, but at least it would prove you EXIST." "Have you ever heard of this guy named Descartes?")

I also feel like Mac's the type to own a record player and collect vintage vinyls (although he isn't aware that this is currently a popular thing to do).

All of the boys (with the exception of Charlie, because Aunt Clara let him get out of it) have campus jobs. Mac, of course, works in the library, but I'm not sure about Steve.

I’m not really sure what to do about translating the issue with Charlie taking Rose to parties, as the college parties of today certainly do NOT translate to the sorts of social gatherings in the time period of the original book. The time where she asks Mac to go to a party with her could be an actual campus formal event of some kind, but beyond that, I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s a group of friends that Rose feels uncomfortable being around, but doesn’t want to cut off entirely?

The same goes for Archie and Phebe, as class dynamics in marriages are not as a big of a deal as they were back then, or at least, it won’t translate to the same earth-shattering event that it is in the original book. Unsure what direction to take them, honestly, but their love story is so wonderful, I’d want to do it as much justice as I can. (In theory. As I said, I’m not actively planning on writing this.)

#eight cousins #rose in bloom #rose campbell #mac campbell #charlie campbell #tw alcohol mention

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memestockpile · 1 year

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shawshank redemption (1994) feel free to change as needed.

i really don’t remember. i was upset.

i think mostly i wanted to scare them.

a revolver holds six bullets, not eight.

you strike me as a particularly icy and remorseless man.

it chills my blood just to look at you.

i’ve learned my lesson.

cigarettes, a bag of reefer if you’re partial, a bottle of brandy. damn near anything, within reason. i’m the guy that can get it for you.

on your feet before i fuck you up so bad you never walk again.

never seen such a sorry-looking heap of maggot shit in my life.

does the pope shit in the woods? of course i am.

bullshit. i’ll take that action.

you’re out some smokes, son.

looked like a stiff breeze could blow him over.

you eat when we say you eat. you piss when we say you piss. you shit when we say you shit. you sleep when we say you sleep.

i believe in two things: discipline and the bible.

the first night’s the toughest, no doubt about it.

make you wish your daddies never dicked down your mommies.

talk to me, boy. i know you’re in there.

i wanna go home!

i had your mother! she wasn’t that great!

you gonna eat that?

i believe i owe that boy a big sloppy kiss when i see him.

doesn’t matter what his fucking name was. he’s dead.

i keep my ear to the ground.

they say you think your shit smells sweeter than ordinary. that true?

i understand you’re a man who knows how to get things.

i’m known to locate certain things from time to time.

i’d grow eyes in the back of my head if i were you.

you get this in your eyes, it blinds you.

honey, hush.

prison is no fairy world.

may is one damn fine month to be working outdoors.

a million bucks? jeez louise!

hey, you nuts?

i miss the joke? what’s so funny?

you better start making sense.

actually, i feel silly telling you all this.

the colossal prick even managed to sound magnanimous.

chess. now there’s the game of kings.

i guess we’re getting to be friends, aren’t we?

relax. what are you so worried about? she’s just a woman.

i said fuck off.

a sudden serious brain injury causes the victim to bite down. hard. in fact, i understand the bite reflex is so strong, the victim’s jaws have to be pried open with a crowbar.

you little fuck.

what are you, fucking geologist?

i hear you’re good with numbers.

ain’t that a kick in the ass?

be nice to have some company down here for a change.

not a dime. my budget’s stretched thin as it is.

you’re not fooling anybody, so just put the damn knife down and stop scaring the shit out of people.

goddamn near slit my throat!

ain’t that bad, old hoss.

old man’s as crazy as a rat in a tin shithouse.

i do believe you’re talking out of your ass.

the world went and got itself in a big damn hurry.

i have trouble sleeping at night.

guess i’m too old for that sort of nonsense.

i don’t like it here. i’m tired of being afraid all the time.

tell [name] i’m sorry i put a knife to his throat. no hard feelings.

some things are best left unsaid.

lost my taste for it.

hope is a dangerous thing.

it’s very pretty. thank you.

you be sure and thank her for this fine pie.

tell them if they over-starch my shirts again, they’re gonna hear about it from me.

got his fingers in a lot of pies, from what i hear.

you can’t just make a person up.

did i say you were good? you’re rembrandt.

i had to come to prison to be a crook.

cops caught him sneaking tv sets out the back door of a jc penney.

young punk.

movin’ like molassas! makin’ me look bad!

freeze, kid! hands in the air!

you hear what i said, boy?

perhaps it’s time you considered a new profession.

you don’t seem to be a very good thief. perhaps you should try something else.

something lit a fire under that boy’s ass.

i ain’t no goddamn loser.

i don’t read all that good.

ass in gear, son! you’re putting us behind!

that’s crap, son.

he’s proud of you. proud as a hen.

c’mon, boy, back to work.

talked all the time, too, that’s the other thing. never shut up. places he’d been, jobs he pulled, women he fucked. even people he killed.

i tell you, son, this really came along and knocked my wind out.

are you catching my drift?

i didn’t pull the trigger, but i killed her.

you underestimate yourself.

pacific ocean? hell, like to scare me to death, something that big.

get busy living or get busy dying.

like something out of a robert frost poem.

every man’s got a breaking point.

lickety-split. i wanna get home.

nice having you back. place just wasn’t the same without you.

alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts, time can draw out like a blade.

that was the longest night of my life.

you better be sick or dead in there.

i shit you not.

i see you two all the time. you’re thick as thieves, you are.

in prison, a man’ll do most anything to keep his mind occupied.

i mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a man’s shoes?

oh, my holy god.

some birds aren’t meant to be caged.

i guess i just miss my friend.

not a day goes by i don’t feel regret.

it’s a politician’s word.

what do you really want to know?

you don’t need to ask me every time you need to take a piss.

no way am i gonna make it on the outside.

they’re calling this the summer of love.

oughta bust his fucking skull.

terrible thing, to live in fear.

hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

i hope the pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.

#rp meme #rp #roleplay meme #tumblr roleplay #roleplay #sentence meme #sentence starter meme #roleplay sentence meme #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #askbox rp #askbox meme #ask meme #askbox #ask

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mmvalentine · 2 years

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Lover Like Me pt 10 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 ** Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Work on Monday drags.

Rhys gets up a couple of hours before me, silences his alarm quickly and then presses warm kisses to the back of my neck and the crook of my shoulder before he gets out of bed. I turn my face, and he kisses my lips, but whispers “keep sleeping.” I don’t need to be told twice.

When I wake at eight, Rhys is long gone. My clothes are folded in a pile at the corner of the bed, with a post-it that says, There’s pikelets in the fridge x

I shake my head and smile. My kitchen is literally next door, I’m hardly at the mercy of his hospitality. Plus, I don’t usually like sugar for breakfast.

I pull my clothes on and shuffle into my own apartment. As I cook my eggs, I think that it’s strange how my morning routine just picks up like usual. Strange that only my cold and unrumpled bed knows I wasn’t here last night. Strange that everything, and nothing has changed.

I take a shower and despite the steam, I’m shivering under the water as a I remember everywhere Rhys touched me last night. My fingers probe my throat for bruises, both wary of how it might look at work but also looking for proof that he was there. I find nothing, and am embarrassed that I’m a little disappointed.

Work is slow, there aren’t many customers and I’m checking my phone incessantly. I know that he doesn’t have the down time that I do in a work day, and so I try not to feel insecure. I’ve tucked his post-it into the back of my phone case because I’m a giant sap, and look at that occasionally instead. Around lunch time, he texts me.

Rhys: Hey you

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when his name comes up on the screen my heart hits the roof of my mouth.

Feyre: Hey :)

Rhys: How’s your day going, beautiful?

I bite my lip and blush at the flashback. You’re beautiful. That’s all.

Feyre: It’s good, it’s slow.

Feyre: How’s yours?

I watch the bouncing grey dots like a kid with a crush.

Rhys: Same old.

Rhys: Come round after work?

I grin. By now, his apartment is basically a second home to me, but this time there’s a thrill of anticipation in my veins. This time, 'come round’ means ‘come put your mouth on mine,’ and if Rhys wasn’t also working I would be tempted to just up and leave this minute.

Feyre: Definitely.

Rhys: Good girl.

I swear I get wet right there at the cash register.

Somehow the second half of the day passes even more slowly than the first, but finally I get to hang up my apron. I get on the bus and the whole way home I’ve got a knee jiggle going. I try to plug into my usual podcast but I realise quickly that I’m not hearing a single word. I look at the time, I know that Rhys has finished too but he drives in with the others and so he’ll beat me home.

Half way there, we get stuck. There’s an accident on the road and the bus has to wait for it to clear before it proceeds.

Of all the fucking days.

I keep glancing at my phone but every time I do it’s only a minute that has passed. After five minutes, I google how long it would take if I just got off the bus and walked home. Forty minutes. Probably worth staying on the bus then.

Twenty minutes after that, I’m not so sure.

I’m just considering whether to call Rhys and have him collect me- but no, I can’t ask that of him, he’s probably tired after work and it’s still plenty early, it’s not like I’m stranded or in trouble- when we’re given the all clear and the bus starts moving. There’s a little cheer from the passengers. I just sigh and try not to check my phone the rest of the way home.

As I walk into Velaris, I do think about going straight to Rhys’s door. But I make myself go home and have a shower and change my clothes. I barely manage to shove my keys into my pocket before I’m standing on his doorstep, I’m knocking, and it’s opening and there he is.

However beautiful I thought Rhys was before, it’s got nothing on how he looks in this doorway.

Not now that I’ve spent the night in his bed, now that I know the shape of his skin, now that the taste of him is on the tip of my tongue when I see him.

“Hi,” I say, and if it comes out dumb then Rhys doesn’t seem to notice.

“Get. Over here.”

I take one step forward and then Rhys is pulling me the rest of the way in, fist in the front of my sweater and hand around the back of my neck. He kisses me like it’s been a week instead of a day, and I am trying to stop smiling so that I can kiss him back properly. The door thuds shut behind me and Rhys walks backwards, falling into the couch and taking me with him. I sprawl over him and giggle, and he scoops me more completely into his lap, and the whole time he’s kissing and kissing my lips and I’ve never felt this before.

I finally stop laughing when Rhys lets out a frustrated growl and nips my lip hard. I gasp at the sudden pain but as soon as my mouth isn’t stretched into a grin, Rhys gets his tongue between my lips and oh, yes now he has my attention.

“What took you so long?” Rhys mumbles.

“Accident on the road…” My words are eaten up and I don’t explain any further.

I clasp my fingers behind his neck, and when his hands slide up my back, under my sweater, I arch toward him like he’s the sun.

“You want to go to bed?” Rhys asks, and it’s so low and rough that all I can do is nod. I lean in and press a sucking kiss against his neck, and the groan this produces makes me preen. I do it again, and Rhys slide a hand beneath my hair and holds my head to his throat as I move down to his adam’s apple.

“Fuck, let’s go to bed.”

I am inclined to agree, but at that moment there’s a knock on the door.

“Nope,” Rhys calls toward it. “Not tonight.”

But the door barges open, and I quickly slide out of his lap onto the couch next to him.

“Oh good,” Cassian says. “Feyre’s already here.”

Cassian is followed by both Mor and Azriel. Mor is wearing pyjama pants and Azriel is carrying a stack of pizza boxes.

“Guys come on, are there no boundaries at all?”

“It’s Monday,” Mor states. “It’s movie night.”

She sits down on the couch next to me in her usual position, and I shuffle over to give her a little more space. Rhys just sighs, then reaches over and hauls me back into his lap. I blush, and lean in to whisper in his ear.

“Are they supposed to know?” I ask him. “About us? Are we telling?”

“We already know,” Mor says. I whip my head around, and she just shrugs. “Ask Azriel.”

“We knew before you did,” Azriel comments. He doesn’t look over at us, he’s busy fiddling with Rhys’s laptop and getting it to connect to the TV.

“You guys didn’t know?” Cassian asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

“Rhys is right, we need better boundaries,” I mutter.

“We can still kick them out, you know,” he says. I sigh.

“I mean it is Monday. To be fair to them.”

“Pick a short movie,” Rhys says to the others.

“We’re not picking based on run time,” Cassian says. “How about you show some respect for the sanctity of movie night?”

“How about you get out of my house and watch your own TV?” Rhys snaps back.

“You know that’s not how it’s done,” Cassian replies simply.

In the end, they settle on the live action Cinderella. Azriel flicks off the lights and Mor puts a bag of popcorn in the microwave, and I settle against Rhys.

The truth is I have so loved being a part of movie night Mondays. It’s the thing that makes me feel like I belong here, and although of course I want alone time with Rhys, I can wait a couple of hours to preserve the ritual.

Rhys has other ideas.

Bluebirds fly over the screen, and in the dark room Rhys’s hands slip beneath my sweater again. I sigh contentedly, loving the warmth of him on my skin. He presses his mouth to the top of my shoulder, and I lean into him. I think he’s just going to hug me then, but his hands don’t stop moving. They stroke over my stomach, slow and heavy. His thumbs rub circles in the small of my back, his fingertips dip just under my waistband to skim across my hips. I’m soothed, I’m excited, I don’t know what to feel. After a few minutes, he leans forward and kisses the nape of my neck. Brushes his lips there, at first, then licks the spot before biting softly against my skin. I shiver in his lap, and he just squeezes my waist.

I don’t think I can handle this, not while there are people around, so I shift in his lap and tip my head against his shoulder. Move my neck out of reach. This does not phase Rhys, he only tugs his teeth against my ear instead. Traces the tip of his nose against my temple, then sucks my earlobe into his mouth. Runs his tongue along the inside edge of my ear and why does that feel good?

Meanwhile his nails are scratching up and down the outside of my thighs, hip to knee and back through my tights.

I turn my head in the dark room, knocking my nose against his. Rhys catches my lips and kisses me under the cover of a swell of music, and even though we barely move, I can feel my heart thud against my ribcage.

At that moment a cushion smacks us in the face.

“Oi, we said we know, not we want to watch,” Cassian says.

“And I said use your own TV,” Rhys replies mildly, and puts his mouth on my throat.

I laugh but pull back, shy now that we’ve been caught out. I try to slide out of Rhys’s lap but he doesn’t let me. Just hugs me back to him like a kid with a squirmy cat. Doesn’t try to kiss me anymore though, so I let it slide.

Ten minutes later, his hands are moving again.

Rhys’s arms are folded around my waist and one of his hands slips back beneath my sweater, stroking at the side of my ribs. He doesn’t do anything else, there’s no breath on my neck there’s just his fingers moving, steadily beneath my clothes.

I try to ignore this for a while, but the longer it goes on the more I feel it. It’s so harmless at first, but my skin loves his touch. I start leaning into it, and then it’s not enough. I want him to keep touching me, but I can’t do anything about it while we’re in a room full of people. Rhys’s movements move a little lower, he skims my waistband and suddenly I’m struggling.

“Tell them you’re tired,” Rhys murmurs in my ear. “Tell them you need to go to bed.”

I shake my head, feeling that there is nothing subtle at all about that statement and not being prepared to announce it to the group.

Then Rhys’s fingers move lower, and trace the centre seam of my tights.

I startle in his lap, and three pairs of eyes look to us.

“I… Rhys is terrorizing me,” I say. Rhys’s eyebrows go up. His hands sit innocently still at my waist. “I’m…” I give up, and mutter, “I’ll let you guys watch the movie in peace.”

I stand, and Rhys is a second behind me. I head for the door but Rhys puts his hand on my shoulders and steers me to his bedroom instead.

“Good night,” Mor calls, and she’s already turned back to the movie.

“Gross,” Cassian adds, but he too has his attention on the screen.

“See you tomorrow,” Azriel says, and his mouth is full of pizza.

And I marvel that it’s just not a big deal to them, this is normal, just like that.

Rhys shuts the door behind him, and it’s dark. I turn to say something to him, but he’s got his mouth on mine and I’m being backed into the bed. I can still hear the movie on the other side of the door, and I’m conscious of how close our friends are even as we’re pulling clothes off each other.

We slide between the sheets and there’s nothing like kissing Rhys while we’re naked. His skin is satin and heat, and I’m trying to press into him at every point of contact. Rhys’s hands never stop moving, they’re on my jaw then on my breasts then smoothing down my back then squeezing at my backside. When his fingers slip between my legs I have to bite down on a moan.

Rhys tugs my lip from my teeth.

“I like hearing you,” he says, before kissing from my chin to the hollow of my throat.

“Not with the others outside,” I whisper, but as I say it he pushes a finger inside me and I have to hide my face in his neck as I try to keep it together.

"But you're so sexy when you feel good." Rhys mutters it into my neck, moves his mouth on my throat. I give a brittle laugh.

"Tamlin used to get so embarrassed..."

There's a growl from Rhys, and at first I feel a flush of guilt for bringing him up. Again.

But that's not the issue.

"Then he's an idiot," he tells me. "All I want to do is make you scream."

He's moving his fingers inside me, as if to make a point, and my teeth clamp down hard on lip. "I can't," I gasp.

"Well," he mumbles. I can feel myself soaking his hand now, and my hips grind foward against his palm. "If you're feeling shy..." Rhys rolls me over and then draws me back in, so that my back is to his chest. "I can keep you quiet."

His hand slides between my legs again, and his teeth play against the back of my shoulder. But now his free hand comes up to cover my mouth, long fingers clamping over my cheeks and jaw. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers.

“Shhh.”

And then the head of his cock is pressing at my entrance, while his fingers move deftly over my clit and I’m glad of his hand on my mouth because I whimper into his palm.

“Good, darling?”

I can’t answer, of course, so I just nod and press my hips back, trying to move further onto him. After waiting all day for this, I don’t just want his fingers. He chuckles low under my hear. “Greedy little thing.” But he gives me what I want, pushes an inch inside of me and I'm falling apart. My hands clutch at his forearm in front of me, but I don’t pull his hand back from my face. He gives me another inch and it’s not nearly enough. I reach back for him, finding his hip and trying to tug it closer even though I’m straining with what I already have. Rhys pulls back and then thrusts hard into me, all at once, and I cry out. His fingers tighten across the lower half of my face, and I’m breathing hard through my nose.

“Fuck you’re good,” Rhys groans. “You’re so good, so good…”

He gives me time to adjust, or maybe he’s adjusting because when he drags a breath in it shudders.

“You want more?” he murmurs. I nod my head eagerly, and I can feel the smile behind my neck. “Of course you do,” he says, and he’s drawing out and pushing in and I’m home.

I don’t know how I used to go about my day, but all day today I’ve been on edge and willing the hours by and now, here, I’m finally breathing slow and deep and with every stroke I’m back in my body. I want Rhys’s arms tighter, I want him to bind me back into myself. I can’t speak but I meet his hips every time and I clutch his arms to myself where I can reach them. Rhys seems to understand, puts one of his legs through mine and draws them back toward him, keeps my head against his shoulder using the hand over my mouth, and hits that spot inside my harder and harder with every pass. I can’t stop the moans but they are muffled by his fingers. Rhys is doing better than I am, but with his mouth at my ear I still hear the catches in his breath as he speeds up.

“Have you been thinking of this, too?” he whispers. “Had difficulty concentrating at work? Rather spend your time getting fucked?”

I arch my back to get him deeper, and hope that answer will suffice.

“Have you been holding onto this all day?” His voice drops into that growl that I have no defences for whatsoever. “Need to give it to me?”

I would nod, but he’s holding my head so tightly now that I can’t move. I just whine against his callouses. And all the while those fingers circle between my thighs.

“Then give it to me.” That voice… it vibrates deep in my spine and I shiver in his arms. “Give it all to me, come for me.”

And it’s not difficult, I start to fall apart but Rhys keeps me in place as he fucks through my climax, not letting the rhythm drop, and I’m wrung out and wrung out on his cock.

“Good girl,” he breathes, and that kicks off an aftershock. “Good girl, good-” he cuts off, and the feeling of him coming has me spasming all over again. He’s silent as he shudders into me, and his fingers twitch on my jaw.

And I love it. His orgasm feels as good to me as mine, and by the time we’re panting softly into the dark, by the time he’s lowered his hand from my mouth and is stroking my flank instead, by the time his forehead is leaning against the back of my neck and the music from the movie is drifting back in under the door, I’m heavy and content and well on my way to sleep.

xxx

The rest of the week passes like this.

I will away the hours at work and then arrive breathless at Rhys’s doorstep. We occasionally tolerate the presence of our friends but spend most of our time wrapped up in each other, and the only times I spend in my own apartment are the few hours between when I wake up alone in Rhys’s bed and when I have to get on the bus.

By Friday, Rhys has a key for me.

“A key to your apartment?” We’re in his kitchen, I’m leaning against the kitchen counter while he makes tea.

“Sure, everyone else has one, why not?”

I laugh. “We’ve barely been dating a week.”

Rhys turns around and puts his forearms down on the table opposite me. “Is that what we’re doing?” His voice is dark and velvet.

“Oh, I, um… I guess we haven’t... ”

Rhys leans forward and kisses me until the kettle whistles.

“I can deal with that,” he says. He steps away to take the kettle off the stove.

“So… you’re my boyfriend?”

“Use whatever label you want.” He turns back to me, and reaches out in a motion that tucks my hair back and then trails to my chin. Pulls me forward. “As long as it means you’re mine.” His lips ghost over mine. “Okay by you?”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “I like ‘boyfriend,’” I tell him, and then he puts his mouth on mine and that’s the discussion done.

And it feels fast but it feels good, and if there is a part of me that is wary of the haste, no one else seems to think it odd. In fact our friends have almost no reaction to us being together, and so although I am self-conscious at first about how casual Rhys is with his affection, the touches of his hand on my hip and his lips on my hair become as natural as sitting on his couch and eating pizza. So I make a copy of my key for him too, and it doesn't feel like we're neighbours, it feels like we live in one big giant house where everyone has their own room but are never far.

When Rhys’s court date comes up a couple of weeks later, it’s something I had forgotten about entirely, and so I am not prepared when Tamlin’s name appears printed on the summons on the table in his apartment.

***

Holy shit I was going to wait until i hit chapter 12 and say something about how it's my longest fic (The Bargain is 11 chapters) but i realised that it has twice the word count of that whole thing.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2@highladysith@stardelia@feysand-loml@tillyrubes10@ratabrasileira@live-the-fangirl-life@maybekindasortaace@annejulianneh111@thebonecarver@rowaelinismyotp@loosingdreams@pitrsattabhaadmeinjao@achernarlight@swankii-art-teacher@sjmships@courtofjurdan@teddytdr@positivewitch@thalia-2-rose@darling-archeron@rapunzel1523@fairchildjace@hopefulacademia@story-scribbler@fandomstalker27@realbookloverproblems@dealfea@s-tormwitch@cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl@whoever-you-choose-to-love@endlessdaydream@rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red@alerialumina @elentiya-witc@elentiyawhitethorn

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #no i do not sneak minor traumas from my sex history into fics and fantasise about rewriting the past

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lover-i-lover · 2 years

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Memories

As Nico and I settle into bed, I'm twisting and turning way more then usual. I can hear Nico snoring beside me, and I try not turn onto him. I've been up since 5 this morning, so I stupidly thought that I won't have trouble falling asleep. After a rather harsh turn, Nico stops snoring. Fuck. "Jacey?" He asks groggily. I twist on my side to look at him in the darkness of night. "Mhm" I murmur, my head starting to ache in the not surprisingly hot Zeus cabin. "What's-" He start, a yawn cutting him off. "Up?" he asks, snuggling to keep his eyes up. "I can't sleep" I mutter out. A sleepy Nico shuffles closer and tucks himself into my body, wrapping his arms around my hips. "Bed" He murmurs into my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. "Could you lay differently?" I ask, holding Nico helps but I find sleeping a lot easier with a weight on top of me. He makes a sound of agreement. "Up?" He asks, detangling himself from me to resettle where I want him. "Yes please" I say. My tired boyfriend moves onto top of me, getting comfortable with his head in my neck. He rests his hands on my shoulders and hums into my neck. Sending another shudder down my back. The very last bit of stress is pressed out of me as he rests his body on mine. Nico is maybe ten kg smaller then me, but that's still enough weight to keep me down and calm. With Nico sleeping on me, I can't twist and turn anymore. I feel a lot safer sleeping with Nico. My body grows heavy, and I fall into a deep sleep.

Next thing I know, I'm back at Camp Jupiter, at my first training. They expected so much of me, I was Jupiter's son, I had to know how to fight. When I didn't take to it right away, everyone was disappointed. The sword drops from my hand and the other kids my age laugh and point. I remember running away in tears. I hid away into my bunk, crying under the covers. Then I'm thirteen again, standing in front of the whole camp, I'm holding a speech. The same speech the older campers always wanted me to repeat. I remember that standing there, on that stage, and just feeling the weight of the world settling on my shoulders. It was the first time I realized that no matter what I said or did, I would always be a son of Jupiter first, and a person second. I still feel that way a lot of the time. Never with Nico though. Nico treats me like a person, which is a low bar. But I have to admit, that's what made me fall for him, he actually cared about me, my feelings and my hobbies. Guess I'm just a sucker for anyone who treats me like person. The image changes again, I'm running into the forest at Camp Jupiter. I don't quite remember this. I'm, maybe eight. Crying, I climb up in a tall tree. What happened? I don't recall this at all. Everything else has been memories, why isn't this? A couple boys come running into the forest, their face are blurred and almost non existing. They all look around for me and yell for me to come. What is this even? I'm hiding in the treetop. There's something on my face, it that blood? Why is there blood on my nose? Did I get hurt? Did I fall? Did they do that? Fear sets in and my blood runs cold. All of a sudden, I lose my footing. This is a memory. Fuck how did I forget. I brace for the impact, but there's nothing. The forest is completely quiet. The boys are starring at up at me. I peel my eyes up and a shook of fear runs through my body. I'm floating in mid-air, legs curled up with my arms up around my ears. I hold back a scream and grab for a branch. I cultch my hands around it, and for some reason, I stay afloat. The time I figured out I could fly. The five boys run from me screaming. Gravity takes hold and I fall. I try to hold onto tree, but the branch is too fragile, and it snaps with the strain of my weight. I crash to the ground, the second my face hits the dirt.

I startle up in bed. Nico's rolled off me sometime during the night. My chest's tight, I can't breathe, it's like my throat is closing. I wrap my arms around myself, hands steady on my bare shoulders. I bury my head into my crossed arms. My heartbeat is drumming in my ear. It feels like I just ran from one end of camp to the other. I only notice that I've been rocking back and forth when I feel the blanket on the end of bed touch my legs. Fuck. I glace over to the alarm clock on my nightstand. 4:35, you have got to be kidding me. I have to be up in two hours. The sun is already slowly rising, making the sky a light yellow that fades to blue. "Fuck" I mumble sniffling. Warm tears roll down my cheeks. Through my blurry vison I look over at Nico, he's peacefully sleeping. Should I? I shouldn't. I wipe away the tears. Just because I woke up doesn't he has to get up as well. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, getting out of bed as quietly as I can. There's a cold sweat running down my back, I'm shivering. As I pull a hoodie over my head. I spot a window open, I didn't open any window. Maybe Nico opened it. I can go outside in sweatpants, right? Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I slip on my shoes, stopping by the door to hear if Nico's sleeping. There's a small, gentle snoring. Thank the gods I didn't wake him.

The door creaks a little as I open it. Just as I close it, I realize that leaving maybe isn't the best idea. If I go on a walk, and Nico wakes up, he won't know where I am, and then I'll get an earful for not telling him or leaving a note. Nico worries a lot, but I don't mind, most of the time anyway. I'm not going back inside, I need some air. I throw myself down the steps of the Zeus cabin. I guess I'll just sit here for a while. I breath in the sweet morning air. My heartbeat slowly returns to normal. Even though I know it was only a memory, the fear has settled deep in my stomach. More tears fight to fall, and I give up. I lay my head on my knees, the tears rolling down and soaking into the soft fabric. Fucking shit. I sniffle, wrapping my arms around my legs to stay stable. At least no one else is awake to see me like this. I hiccup, damn it. I rock a bit, trying to calm my nerves. I sniffle again and lift my head, dragging my sleeve over my wet eyes. I hear a small creaking behind me, did I not close the door properly? There's a small hand on my shoulder. I twist my head to look at him. A half sleep Nico is standing behind me without a shirt on. "What's wrong?" He yawns, tangling his hand into my hand. "Just a, bad dream. Bad memoires" I shallow down the cold worry that had set in my throat. He gently tugs my head up, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "I'm sorry honey" He ruffles my hair then lets go. His sweet voice makes the fear in my stomach disappear. Another tear presses past my eye, and Nico's soft hand reaches down and wipes it away. "Come back to bed, it's too earlier" He pleads. I nod and push myself of the steps. As I stand facing Nico, he reaches up and slings his arms around my neck. He leans up and snuggles his head against my neck. "You'll be okay" He whispers and kisses my cheek. He gets down and laces his hand with mine. He pulls me back inside.

Sniffling, I close the door behind me. "Sorry" I mutter. "Don't you dare be" He yawns again, he never gets up this early. I've had to get up at four a couple of time, I'm a little mere use to it. A sleepy Nico spins me around to the side of the bed. "I love you" He murmurs pulling me in for a hug. I let myself sink into his arms, not bothering to hold back the tears. I mumble the same words back to him, but I don't think he can understand a word that comes out of my mouth. "You're okay" He whispers running his hand up my back. I sniffle, my nose is all stuffed up. A very tired Nico sits down on the edge of the bed, he gently tugs at my waist. I take the cue, shifting down with my legs on either side of him. His warm arms wrap around my middle. I cry into his shoulder, my tears rolling down his chest. "What was it about?" He asks, twisting a hand in my hair. "I, I-" I shake my head against his shoulder. I can't, it's too much. "Okay Honey, it's okay, I got you" He murmurs, gently running a hand up my back. He plays with my hair as we sit in the silence of an early morning. After maybe twenty minutes of straight up sobbing on his shoulder. I try to talk, but it's childlike babbling through even more tears. "Baby" He pleads, gentle hands pulling my head from his shoulder my cheeks. "You don't have to talk, okay?" He says wiping my tears with his thumb. "If you want, of course you can. But if it's only upsetting you more, then you don't have to, okay? I know it's hard" He reassures, leaning in and resting his forehead against mine. Tears roll down my chin, I whimper and throw my arms around my neck. We sit here for gods know how long. By the time I stop crying, the has risen into the morning sky, and my head is being spilt in half by a headache. "Come on, you need some sleep" Nico pats my back. Through still slightly blurry eyes I glace over at my alarm clock. Fuck, I can't. It almost 6 : 35, I have to get up soon anyway. "I, I can't" My voice is hoarser then I've ever heard myself sound. "I've class soon" I sniffle, I clear my throat and it hurts. "No, No you don't" Nico shakes his head, tugging me closer to him. "You didn't fall asleep until one this morning, and you been up since when? Four? " "4:35, I'm fine I should-"

"No" He says, getting a bit stern with me. "Bed" "Nico plea-" "No. You make me sleep after a night like this. You are going back to bed" He insists. I sigh, he's right. I do. Guess there's no way out of this. I'll tell Chiron later. "Could I have some water first?" I ask, wiping my runny nose on my sleeves. "Of course" He mumbles. I move off his lap and look for the bottle of water I brought back from dinner last night. I find it on my desk and down the half empty bottle. It feels like my head is being spilt open on sizzling asphalt. As I shallow the last bit, the tiredness takes it's troll on me and I stumble to my dresser. Nico's walking around, drawing the brand-new curtains he had the Hephaestus cabin install here so that I didn't have to walk to his cabin every time I have a migraine. I throw my now dirty hoodie off, it's covered in tears and snot. I dump it into my laundry basket and find a new one to wear. "Do you, want a shirt?" I sniffle. "Yes please" Nico makes his voice ten times lighter then normal. I laugh, finding an old hoodie of mine and throwing it in his face. "Hey!" He chuckles, bring his knee up to catch it. He pulls it on and walks over to me. "Come on, it is past your bedtime mister" He jokes patting me on the backside. I fake a gasp. "My bedtime? I have a bedtime?" I grab his shoulders. "Mhm, don't forget your naptime either" He leans up and kisses me. I let myself relax with his lips on mine, gently moving with him for a little bit. He pulls away. "Now no more avoiding, to bed with you" "I wasn't" "Yeah yeah shut it, bed" He says removing my hands from his shoulder. I sling my arms around his neck and tug him closer by it. "Mhm?" "You been up with me, so to bed with you too" I say. "That was the plan Honey" He mumbles letting me drag him to bed by his neck. As we tumble into bed together, Nico says something I don't quite catch. "What?" I ask, laying down on my side of the bed. Nico drags me into the middle and lays over me. "You are so" He bops my nose. "Cute" I feel a small blush come onto my already red cheeks. I pull the blanket over us. My eyes have grown very heavy and so it's no problem closing my eyes. "Jacey?" He mumbles "Mhm?"

"When you're ready to talk about it, I'm here. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know"

#jasico #jason x nico #nico x jason #jason grace #nico di angelo #heros of olympus #hoo #thunderworld

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

Is a huge huge bunch of people who are always bothering him and always in the way and like smack dab in the way they don't get it so we follow them around and we saw why people are paying them I decided to tell them off in writing him and it's a lot of people believe it or not and they are in trouble and admit it no but we're tired of telling them I'm tired of having it happened and we are of course moving on many individuals here in Port Charlotte and punta Gorda there are about 1400 people who are out of line and it's not going to go well for them. It's a huge day the Giant number of things happening we have absolutely no patience for them and if you're giving us crap so you have to make him take it back it's going to be ugly for them but right now they're still amassing and I'm asking at eight points believe it or not it really motivated cuz they can get there and it started send me a surprise but you're not supposed to be attacking and you can't figure out the problem with that doesn't want to be in the middle of a war zone you don't care but he does and we do and we don't want the world to be in the world you end up not making it at all and you end up in pieces and all cut up like John Lord it's going to be for his trap and we are going after him shortly and to make an example nobody says that stuff to us ever and several other people who continue with their dog s*** and we're going to make sure we go after them but here is what's happening in Port Charlotte and punta Gorda

-the sheriff is down to 50 sheriffs and they were thinking of holding that they heard what the others are planning to do and fired them so they can create a perimeter and that is probably the same throughout other portions of the government and we have a consensus that there is a problem with people here being a nuisance to our son they say it everyday and we mean it everyday they're huge huge nuisance and we don't want to hear it at all and we don't want to see you being a nuisance so are sending troops in and tons of them and they're going to pick people up

-it's also a huge number of people who keep on saying they're changing the tune then they're complete assholes and they say they change their tune then they're complete assholes and we're going to pick those people up because trying to lie by telling the stuff it's really horrible people are nightmare so waking nightmare how's it crap

-along with you sheriff that they're trying to get to zero and trying to kick them out a bunch of Gorda Police department and they're doing it for real today they're writing them up on everything they're doing wrong and every infraction so far one guy has 70 infractions and he says I don't seem to notice the problem and stuff like that and they get really mad so you're kidding you're just this freaking subhuman idiot who can't remember how many infractions you have and they're going around saying it out loud to them you're really really stupid and you need to leave and yeah they can't stand them and we can't stand them either and it will be over soon for them and they will be out in the cold it is amazing how bad it really is

-and the Florida law enforcement group is being disbanded they're at a thousand and they're seeking to get to 500 and today they said we'd like to get rid of them all and they're in the office with them and they hate them so what they're doing is slowly disbanding it and they're kicking out like 100 an hour and they're going to start today and they're going to work on it and they're going to keep doing it until they're out and there are other agencies that are being worked on by us a couple of them are the fire departments and there's quite a few people who are getting fired from the fire departments there are about 800 firemen per town in Florida that's way over the top there's no need for that many fireman and it's going on right now and it's going to be very huge by around 3:00 p.m. and still find hundreds at a time and taking over their job completely to not bothering not bothering to ask and they're not bothering to tell them to go elsewhere the same for them to get out and that they're in trouble and fired and they are moving out right now I'm in displacing several million of them it's a big day and they're doing a lot of this across the board a lot of them are very unhappy with what these people been doing and the work is deplorable and they don't show up and they cause problems it's on purpose and they act like jackasses and they don't know how to do anything more shortly

Thor Freya

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otomae-game-lover · 2 years

Text

Part 2 of: the prompt of their child finds out about how they tried to kill their mother in the past.

Warnings: Female!MC, past pregnancy, children, your son being protective of you and also clingy(he's the child of greed), angst, there's a happy ending I promise. Not proofread.

Notes: I had so many ways I wanna take this, so I ended up rewriting it so many times. But thank you to the anon that told me about Mammon sacrificing MC to Levi. That really helped a lot.

-Mammon's son is eight here.

-GN! version will be posted next week. I have a minor procedure(nothing serious, don't worry) that needs to be done as well as assignments.

Names come from

(Lucifer's part here) (Leviathan's part here) (Satan's part here)

Taglist: @definitely-yours @oriaedvige03 @satans-kitty-says-meow @obeythebutler @ria-demon29 @dreasimping @gallantys

@sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @eu-4-riah @bruisedteefmlm @sutsuxan @crystal-freak24 @hatsunemiku2025 @artificialintestines @littleagxs @pen-ink-therapy @jellymoonbear

@mammonssheep @empressofpotatos-blog @mammonl0ver @eckya

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for Levi.

MAMMON:

Mammon's son was never the type to act aggressively. While Erden likes to hog your attention a lot, especially when Mammon wanted it, they got along relatively well.

So this sudden change in behavior was new to him. Nowadays Erden would growl at him and give him a death glare(the best one a half-demon child can muster) whenever Mammon gets near you. However Satan did bring up the fact that Erden was the child of greed, so he might have just developed a possessive streak.

It was then you decided that you would take your son to the human world for some time. Devildom was a hostile environment, so perhaps a calmer and less dangerous place would help him settle down.

-----------

You were sort of right about that. Now that you, Mammon, and your son were in the human world, he wasn't exactly growling anymore. However, he held on to your hand tightly and would pull you a few feet away from Mammon if he felt his dad was too close.

Now Mammon was relieved that the growling stopped, but he was getting really annoyed that his kid was trying to keep you away from him. He took a quick glance at the boy only to notice that Erden's footsteps were slowing down. That gave him an idea.

"Tired, kid?" He asked, then continued when Erden actually gave him a quick look. "If you're tired I can carry ya." He stopped for a moment and waited for his son to accept the offer, but from the way the child narrowed his blue eyes it was clear he wouldn't.

"No!"

Mammon looked surprised and he swore Erden actually sped up his walk for a bit, pulling you along again, before slowing down once more. He clearly was tired, so this time you decided to make the same offer. Much to the surprise of both of you, your son shook his head.

"No, I'm okay," he insisted. He tried to keep up a regular pace this time even if he was having trouble. "I can't protect you if you're carrying me."

You and Mammon stopped walking which caused your son to stop as well. "Oh sweetie, you don't have to do that...," you stated gently and lowered yourself so you were at eye level with him.

Mammon did the same thing but also ruffled Erden's white hair. "You don't have to do that," he repeated what you said. "I can protect her just fine, so relax." Erden only stared at his dad for a few seconds, before suddenly glaring and swatting Mammon's hand away.

"NO!" He shouted, ignoring your warning to behave since you three were in public. Fortunately, it was closer to the evening, so there weren't many people.

"No, you won't! You're just gonna leave her to die so you can save yourself!" Erden continued, even balling his tiny hands into fists that shook with rage. It seemed like his tiredness had gone away for now, replaced with something less favorable.

"Woah, woah, woah- where the hell did that come from, Erden?!" Mammon demanded. His tone was a mix between anger and confusion. Meanwhile, you were at a loss for words, because as Mammon said, where the hell did that come from?

"That's what you did when mom first came to Devildom!"

Mammon's eyes widened in realization. That was such a long time ago that he'd genuinely forgotten about it. By the look on your face, it seems like you did too. He basically sacrificed you to Levi on your first day to save his own ass, but how did Erden know about that?

With a sigh, his shoulders slumped seeing that the boy was clearly waiting for him to say something. "You...," he started. He sounded a lot quieter than earlier. "You don't need to remind me."

Even though Erden had waited for his dad to say something, he really didn't have much to say to that. You took this chance to try and calm him down because his anger was still obvious even if he was quiet for now. "Honey, where did you hear this from?" You asked. "That was so long ago that we both forgot about it."

He turned to you and opened his mouth only to close it. He debated on whether to tell you, but you gave him a gentle smile to show it was okay. "Uncle Levi told me the other day," he admitted. "I asked him if I could borrow money and then he just freaked out. He told me about how dad once owed him money then didn't give it back until you made a pact with him."

There was a brief pause after that explanation. "Then he told me about how you made a pact with dad and how it all started after he tried sacrificing you..."

Mammon groaned. That bastard Levi...All he had to do was just say no, but apparently, he had to ramble on about unnecessary information once again! How the hell did he even remember that anyway?

"How come you let that happen?!" Erden abruptly turned his attention to Mammon which brought the second-born back to reality. "You're supposed to be stronger than Uncle Levi! But you just-," he cut himself off. "You should have just-"

"Kicked his ass?"

Erden stopped when his dad suddenly interrupted him but nodded slowly after. Mammon wasn't sure what to say to that. He can't really explain it in a way that would sound good, because, in reality, he panicked and didn't really care for what happened to you at the time. You were just a chore for him back then. But then it hit him.

"I already did," Mammon told him with a grin. You both looked at him confused, but he just nodded. "Yeah, I grabbed him, picked him up, then slammed him headfirst into the floor in a pile diver!"

Your son's mouth hung agape while he looked at his dad in utter admiration. On the other hand, you raised an eyebrow at him. While yes, that did happen so it technically wasn't a lie, the timeline was wrong!

"Really?" Erden asked enthusiastically, then his expression suddenly hardened. "Wait," he sounded suspicious. "How come Uncle Levi didn't tell me that part?"

"Obviously he wouldn't tell you that!" Mammon answered. "Why would he tell you about the time I kicked his ass?" Even though Levi did tell you about that, you decided to keep it to yourself. "Anyway, kid, you were tired, right? My offer's still up if ya are." He suddenly brought up. "I can protect your mom just fine, so you don't need to worry," he reassured.

Erden seemed to hesitate. He looked up at you and only once you nodded did he get on to his dad's back and wrap his arms around his neck. Once Mammon had a secure grip on his son's legs, he stood up then continued walking.

You followed after, listening to Mammon go into more detail about the fight with Levi then go on to talk about how he beat up other demons. You watched how Erden happily listened to everything he said and couldn't help but smile. It seemed like things went back to how they should be.

Though you'd make a mental note to yourself to make sure Levi doesn't ever tell the full story.

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

First Kiss! Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Four, Hyrule and Wind!

Content under the cut!

Four

The night was crisp and young as you walked with Four around the forest before Wild had to eventually send out the Wolf to come and find you two if you wanted to eat anything at all.

He walked a little ways ahead of you and grinned when he came across a little tree stump with a small crack down the middle. “I found one!”

“Found what?” You tilt your head. “When you said you were going to show me something, I didn’t think it would be this? Unless it’s still something I’m not seeing yet.”

“We’re not there yet!” Four bounces on the balls of his feet like an excited kid and gestures you to come next to him frantically.

You try to hide your laughter and go do what he’s asking of you.

He’s quick to grab your hand and he takes a breath.

You raise your eyebrow and copy him.

Four looks over to you, knowing that you’re messing with him before he grins and says, “Ready?”

“Ready for what?”

Four starts chanting a spell before you can even think to stop him and your whole vision shifts and everything grows and it’s warm and sweet and there, before you is suddenly a small hut with mouse people that you’ve never seen before. With feathered tails and little hats and ponchos with acorn cups and pots and you take a minute to take it all in.

Four laughs at your struck dumb expression and ushers you forward.

“What is this place?” You ask on a breath.

Four grabs your hand and gestures with his free to the space around you. “This is a safe haven for the Minish or the Picori as they’ve been known to call themselves.”

“Wow...” You feel a bright smile on your face as you head deeper into the little village inside the tree stump.

But alas, it’s only a few seconds before Link is swarmed by the mouse peop- the Minish as they asll seem to recognize him.

“Hello Mr. Hero!”

“You’re back Link!”

“How have you been?”

“Come sit with us! Have a drink!”

“Link, it’s been awhile. Do you have any new stories to tell us?” A group of the mice- minish- you have to remind yourself again- walk up to Link and one dares to loop their around his, leaning her head on his shoulder as she says this.

Four grins and pulls himself away much to your relief. “You know it! But not right now.” Four says your name, introducing you to the people who must be his friend before saying he was going to show you around.

One minish girl pouts and goes to reach for his arm again. “But Mr. Hero~!”

“Later.” Four smiles in your direction and takes your hand for everyone to see, lacing your fingers together.

You smile a little more easily and gladly follow him through the town.

And it’s really quite lovely.

But... You would enjoy yourself more if Four didn’t have one of them come up to flirt with him every ten minutes.

You can see him begin to get uncomfortable and he’s already apologized more than once about not being able to give you his full attention and show you around like he wanted. Your heart breaks for him.

One girl though, really pushes your buttons.

It’s the same one from earlier- the one that didn’t hesitate to latch onto his arm. “Link! You’ve been here long enough already! Tell us your stories!”

“Sorry but he’s with me today.” You growled and pulled him away from her.

He lets you.

You glare at the girl who doesn’t seem all that impressed by your attitude and claim. She scoffs a little and crosses her arms. “And you are you supposed to be?”

“His lover.”

Four coughs a little next to you but doesn’t deny anything.

The picori around you all still as if you popped a balloon in a silent room. All activity stops and there’s a nervous air around everyone as they all turn their heads to look at you, Four and the small group of minish girls that backup the original.

The original blinks for a minute before smirking a little. “No you’re not.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped.

You take a step back before a calm washes over you.

She doesn’t believe you?

That’s fine.

You shrug and turn to Four who’s watching everything with intense interest.

You don’t hesitate to pick him up and pin to the wall beside you, kissing him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Like you’ve been dying of thirst and he’s the glass of water you’ve been waiting for. Like you’re about to get heat stroke and he’s the shade to protect you.

Four kisses you back with a smile on his lips.

Four wraps his legs around your waist and buries his hands into your hair, bringing you closer to him.

He tastes like apples and you vaguely remember the apple pie Four had managed to snag for breakfast earlier. There’s the hint of cinnamon and sweet sugar topping.

“I think they’re together.” Someone says in the background but you’re not paying attention to them any more.

You pull away from Four and rest your forehead against his. “Hey there Lover Boy, sorry about the lack of warning.”

“I am not complaining. That was hot.” He smirks and pulls you back in for another kiss.

Those who were interested in Four back away somewhat and everyone returns, with great difficulty on their part, back to what they were doing before.

Minish are terrible gossips.

But you think you can accept that the news is going to be that Four is with you now.

All those fangirls can back off, he’s yours.

Hyrule

You were in trouble for real this time.

You don’t know what it’s going to take but you think it might just be the end of the road for you.

You’re out of potions, you have no fairies, you can’t move your dominant arm and you’re ninety eight percent sure that you’re leg is broken.

To make matters worse, there’s a whole bunch of monsters nearby that you think you’re going to be unable to avoid when they find you.

Eventually.

You take a breath and try to calm down.

There’s no amount of adrenaline in the world that can help out of this one.

And you know you’re not getting any backup either.

This is it.

You can at least leave this plane of existence with a good conscious and a clear head. You can go down with dignity and you can at least you didn’t go down easy.

You just know that the next fight will be your last.

You try to sit up, ignoring how everything in your body seems to hurt, all for different reasons.

It beginning to hurt more now that the adrenaline is leaving your system and you’re getting tired.

A nap wouldn’t hurt.

Maybe the monsters will find you in your sleep and end you then. they say that’s the best to go. In your sleep.

Or (and you know this is unlikely) they’ll think you’re already dead and just leave you alone. Then you can wake up and try to go find help after you’ve rested a little while.

It’ll be tough, but it’s possible.

Who’re you kidding?

You’re going to die.

You’re never going to see your family again.

You’re never going to tell your friends how much you appreciate them.

You’re never going to be able to tell that Traveler that you’ve fallen uselessly in love with him.

You’re never going to see the sun again and sing and laugh and see a future family for you....

You don’t want to die.

A single tear runs down your face and you lean back against a stone wall. the corner you were in is secluded enough but not at all hidden.

You can hear the monsters come closer- they’re fighting something. The chaos is loud and thundering in the otherwise empty and quiet cave. They’re coming in your direction and you start counting the seconds.

They get closer and you see the fringes of one huge moblin take a step back to be in front of you. He’s not facing you- too busy fighting something on the other side but you’re out in the open.

You’re tired.

You take another breath and close your eyes. You hear the moblin go down and die but from what, you don’t know. You can’t even open your eyes anymore, that was how tired you were.

But then there’s a scream.

A familiar scream.

Link.

No, Hyrule. It’s Hyrule. It’s your Traveler.

He sounds horrified, pained and it’s enough to try to get you to move again.

You need to see what caused it, you need to see if he’s ok, you need to see what made him scream like that.

But you can’t.

The most you can do it flop an arm and move your head to the side.

Something lands on your side, you can feel it and if you can’t move you can speak. “Mmm...”

Ok, you guess not.

“Oh my god...” Hyrule voice breaks. He sounds like he’s crying.

Please don’t cry, you think. I’m not worth your tears. Save them for someone who matters.

“No...” He gulps and you can feel him move your head, being as gentle as he can with you. You take the biggest breath you can and try to move your head to the other side.

“You can’t die here.” He says. “I won’t let you.”

You can feel the spell he’s used so often on your friend’s fingertips, flow through you and it lessens the pain somewhat, but you know you’re too far gone. You’re too weak. You want to try to stop him from using all his magic but you can’t but at least you can die happy, knowing that he cared about you. It may not be as deep as you would have liked to take your relationship with him, but this is enough. More than enough even.

You feel him turn your head more and begin to lose consciousness.

This is ok.

You think you can go now.

Hyrule kisses you.

It’s desperate.

It’s longing- painful.

Magic flows through your whole body at an alarming rate and you think you can see a golden glow behind your eye lids that forces you to keep your eyes shut tight from the brightness of it all.

But you can move again.

You bring a hand up to your face, feeling Hyrule’s more clearly and let it rest on his jaw.

Slowly, you kiss back- half sure that this is a dream your dying brain has cooked up to make the process easier for yourself.

It’s not sweet, it’s not gentle anymore and the magic wakes you up again enough where you can feel how tight Hyrule is holding onto you.

You push him away with what little strength you managed to get back and blinked your eyes open.

The golden light fades and there’s sits in front of you, your Traveler.

He’s crying.

You blink and begin to feel more of your body again, confusion drowning you in its wake. “Link?”

Your voice is rough and you feel like you need to cough but Hyrule cuts you off and hugs you close.

“You can’t die.” He says, gulping down the sob that threatens to break through. “I won’t let you... I promise. You’re going to be ok if it’s the last thing I do.”

Wind

“Wind!” You whisper yell and frantically wave your hand to convince to come over to you.

The boy in question grins and looks around momentarily before jogging over to where you were hidden in the bushes. “What is it?”

“Come with me.” You beam and take his hand, wasting no time in dragging him behind you. “There’s something I want to show you but only you. Wild might destroy it and I’ll never be able to get him to leave.”

“Leave where?” Wind asks in his normal volume.

You spin around and place your finger to his lips before glancing for the others again. When nothing appears to have heard the little outburst you pull away and lace your fingers together. “You’ll see!”

Wind doesn’t know what you’re talking about but the secrecy is fun for him, so he’ll place along.

You take him off the trail and take two lefts, a right then a left and Wind considers you two to be lost the second you make the last turn.

He takes a breath and looks around, each tree looking more imposing than the last but he would have no idea where to start if he were to try and go back. “I think we’re lost.”

“No way!” You snort. “This is my home. We’re almost there.”

“Your home?” Wind stands straighter.

You nod and pull away from him.

Wind goes to reach for your hand again.

You don’t notice.

You instead skip over to one of the trees and knock on it three times with your ear pressed up against the truck. You wait two seconds before nodding and take three large steps to the tree on the right and hit it with a branch Wind didn’t see next to it.

The tree shakes and a rope falls down.

You seem encouraged by this and take the rope, pulling on it with all your might which then drops a small ladder, that Wind sees is held together by ropes and connected to something at the top of the tree.

You don’t hesitate to start climbing , getting half way up before looking down and gesturing Wind to follow you.

Wind grins maniacally and follows you up the ladder faster than you would have thought he’d be capable of climbing.

You get to the top which is blocked off by a bunch of wood, but you know this place and you lift the trap door with ease and climb inside.

You get on your knees and turn around reaching your hand out to help Wind into the tree house.

He climbs in slower than you, glancing around with wide eyes, taking in everything.

There’s a small unmade bed in the corner with two stuffed animals from what he can. One is a dog and another is a bird but he doesn’t know what kind.

There’s a small bookshelf under a window that’s propped open with a small wooden board. There’s not a lot of books there, maybe seven at most but that’s more books than Wind is accustomed to seeing in one place and the rest of the space is filled is nick nacks and trinket that Wind assumes are from your adventure. And small chest next to it that must be where your clothes are if the cloth hanging out is any indication.

There’s also a small- (toy sized) wood stove with matching metal pots and pans and a small sink on the other side of the tree house. Out of curiosity, he walks over and turns on the faucet.

It has running water.

“This is my home.” You whisper when Wind comes to stand up. “It’s little... and a little broken, if I’m being honest. I don’t have the tools to fix it but it’s mine.”

“Broken?” Wind blinks and looks around even more. There’s some rotting wood by the bed, now that he sees it and it doesn’t look like it’ll be able to hold much more weight if it continues without being replaced. It’s holding up the ceiling above your head- Wind instantly feels concerned for your safety should it collapse while you’re there, or what you’d do if it happened while you weren’t there. He’s almost sure now that there’s more that he just can’t see right now, if that was glaringly obvious off the get go.

“Some parts need fixing and replacing.” You admit. “But I didn’t build this place, I just found it and moved in, so I don’t know where I would even start. It’s not safe on the ground at night so I’m better off up here. There’s also some pipes on the roof are beginning to rust and get nasty. It collects the water from the tree leaves when it rains and keeps it in a container buried in the ground, that’s how I have running water. But it’s cracking.”

You sigh and sit on the floor, crossing your legs under you. “I’ll figure it out. Worse case scenario I’d have to leave and find a cave or something to live in but-”

“We can help you!” Wind turns to you and falls to knees in front of you. “Wild’s good at collecting materials. Twilight and Time can help build. Warrior can plan it out. Legend and Four can help with the pipes. You don’t have to lose your home.”

“The others might make fun of me for having this place.” You mutter with a small pout on your face. “But I knew you wouldn’t! That’s why I brought you up here! I may have nothing, but it’s a lot of nothing so I have enough to share.”

Wind leans into your space suddenly and places his lips on yours.

You gasp and touch them with the tips of your fingers, staring at him wide eyed and shocked.

It was just a peck, a butterflies touch, but the look on Wind’s face says something else. It’s heavy with emotion, with concern and care, and there’s a little part of you that finds it more attractive than you thought it would be.

“You won’t lose your home and I won’t let them make fun of you, I promise.” He gulps and bite his lip. “Let us help. Please.”

You blink at him and let the furious blush encompass your face entirely. You shrink a little bit away but smile. “Ok.”

Wind takes a breath and releases it a nervous but joyful laugh. “We’ll go get the others, ok? And we’ll make sure that you’re ok and safe and this whole place will be as good as new.”

You nod with a smile and Wind looks overjoyed that you agreed.

You hum and shift your weight onto your knees as well, leaning into Wind’s space, steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder and place a delicate kiss on his lips as well. “Thank you Link.”

Wind also blushes something fierce and he begins to play with his hands in front of him, giggling and bashful. “Oh- Um- Well- I- Uh...You- You’re welcome.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

The Strings that Bind Us: Chapter One

AO3

Marinette Dupain Cheng was tired. She’d fought the same villain for fifteen years. She’d been a hero longer than she’d been just Marinette. It was exhausting. And she was ready for a break. Two years after unmasking Hawkmoth, Paris was finally healed enough for her to move on. To leave.

Which was why she was currently putting fairy lights and pumpkins on the balcony of her new apartment in Gotham. It was quiet, and lonely, but at least she didn’t have the weight of a city on her back anymore. She hums as she places the last pumpkin. Perfect. Glancing across the city, she lets out a sigh. Here she was, in an entirely new city, no connections and no one to talk to when she needed to just talk. But it was worth it, the memories of everything in Paris still too fresh. It still hurt too much. Deciding it’s not too early to go to sleep, she walks back inside. She’s just closed the door when a loud crash from outside has her tensing. She peeks behind the curtain, frowning at the figure on her balcony. She opens the door.

“Uh, hello.” She greets the strangely dressed man. If what she’d read had been correct, this was Batman. Gotham’s resident hero, or vigilante as the papers called him. He probably wasn’t here to fight her, but you can never be too careful.

“My apologies.” He says, his voice gruff. Her eyes narrow at the way he favors his left side.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” She asks suddenly, her face instantly heating up as the words tumble out without her permission.

“I’m not-” He starts, but she shakes her head.

“I insist. You are out trying to protect citizens, are you not? The least I can do is offer you a coffee.” She says, turning and walking back inside. She doesn’t turn to see if he follows, but she does hear footsteps behind her. She figures he could walk silently, if he really wanted to. After all, even though he’d been around for eight or so years, few had ever seen Batman. She hums, moving around the kitchen and starting up her small coffee pot and grabbing a few of the leftover pastries from earlier. Placing the pastries on a plate, she pulls down two cups before turning to the vigilante in her kitchen.

“How do you take your coffee?” She asks, and she swears his lips twitch slightly.

“Just black.” He says, and she grins.

“Thank goodness. One of my friends in Paris refuses to drink coffee unless it’s half cream and sugar.” She says, trying to keep the conversation light. After all, what do you say to a random vigilante? It was different when Chat Noir, or Adrien, visited her back in collège. He didn’t start doing that until after she’d helped with Evillustrator, which helped it to not be awkward. Like it currently was with her and Batman. God, why did she even invite him in? She turns and almost sighs in relief when she sees the coffee is done. Quickly filling up both cups, she passes one to Batman and then pushes the plate of pastries towards him.

“I own the cafe downstairs.” She says as an explanation when she sees his lips purse. He nods and grabs a croissant, taking a hesitant bite out of it.

“Thank you.” He says, and she just smiles. She may not want to be a hero again, but maybe it would be okay to be friends with a hero again.

---

The bell over the door notifying her of another customer makes Marinette stick her head out from the back.

“Hello! Welcome to La Petite Tasse, I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She calls, not catching the response before she’s back in the kitchen, pulling a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven. She slides the tray onto the cooling rack before tugging off the oven mitts and rushing out to the front.

“I am so sorry about that, most of my workers are also students so they have class right now. What can I get you?” She rambles, freezing when she looks up into the most attractive blue eyes she’s ever seen. The man just smiles at her, and she swears her knees go weak.

“That’s fine. Could I have... a large black coffee and a croissant?” The man asks, glancing up at the menu before looking back at her. She nods and smiles, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Sure, this was quite literally the most attractive man she’d ever seen in person, but she was not going to fall for a pretty face. Nope. Totally not. She turns and grabs a cup, filling it up before rushing to the back to grab one of the fresh croissants. After all, they were better warm.

“That’ll be three dollars and twenty seven cents.” She says, passing the man his order. He grins and passes her a twenty.

“Keep the change.” He says with a grin before he turns and walks out. She blinks, slightly confused, but takes the change and puts it into the tip jar. That was weird, she thinks, but she doesn’t think too much into it. It’s not like she’d ever see him again.

---

She had been wrong, and she was completely okay with it. The man came in almost every day for two weeks before she worked up the courage to introduce herself and ask his name. He’d seemed shocked, but had introduced himself as Bruce. And after two weeks, she was happy to say that Gotham had started to feel a little lighter, that she was a little happier in this dark city. The bell above the door chimes, but she keeps working on filling the macarons since Mack was manning the counter.

“Listen kid, open the register and I won’t shoot your fucking brains out.” A voice says. Oh hell no. She drops the piping back and picks up her rolling pin. Peeking out, she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it’s only one guy, not an entire group. She tosses her rolling pin lightly before catching it, familiarizing herself with it as a projectile before she actually uses it. She watches as Mack’s hands shake, obviously panicked. Letting out a steadying breath, Marinette aims and manages to hit the man in the head with the rolling pin. He drops instantly, the gun clattering to the floor. She rushes out and grabs a couple zip ties from under the counter, walking over and cuffing the man’s hands behind his back before dragging him towards the handrail and attaching him to it. She glares at the man before she remembers Mack and gasps. She rushes over, frantically checking over the girl to make sure she’s okay.

“Mama M, I’m fine. I promise.” She says, though her voice shakes. Marinette breathes a sigh of relief before crushing the girl in a hug.

“I am so sorry, Mack, so, so sorry.” She apologizes, holding the girl close. She can feel the girl shake slightly, her shirt getting wet as the girl cries. Marinette just coos softly, whispering reassuring words to her. She barely hears the bell signaling a customer ring.

“What the hell happened?” A familiar voice asks. She glances over at Bruce and grimaces.

“Attempted robbery. Would you mind calling the police?” She asks, nodding towards the landline. He blinks, standing frozen as he stares at the tied up man in the corner. “Bruce!” She calls, his attention snapping to her. She nods towards the phone again and he nods, walking over to make the call.

---

After the police take their statements, Marinette sends Mack home with the tips from the day, despite the girl’s protests.

“Sweetheart, you were just held at gunpoint. I’m not gonna let you stay here. Go home, eat some junk food and watch something funny. I’ll see you on Monday.” Marinette says, giving the girl another quick hug before watching her leave. She turns to Bruce, who had been kind enough to stay, and winces. “You’re not gonna get in trouble with your boss, are you?” She asks. He just grins.

“I was actually off today, don’t worry about me.” He says, his smile falling as he looks her over. “Are you okay?” He asks. She lets out a shaky breath before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. I was more worried about Mack, honestly. I was in the back, but I couldn’t just stay there. Not knowing she was in danger.” She says, her arms wrapped around herself as she tries to stay calm. It was the first time she’d had an actual gun aimed at someone she cares about.

“You were quite the hero today.” He says softly, and she snorts, shaking her head.

“No, Bruce, I wasn’t. I did what anyone else would’ve done.” She says, waving him off dismissively.

“Only you would actually believe that there are still people good enough to act like that.” He says softly. She blushes and clears her throat.

“Well, did you want your regular?” She asks, moving to go back behind the counter. He frowns.

“Mari, you aren’t seriously going to open the cafe back up today, are you?” He asks and she frowns.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asks.

“Because your store was just attacked!” He exclaims, and she snorts.

“If my parent’s bakery in Paris closed every time there was an attack, they would’ve gone out of business.” She says flippantly. He frowns, and she worries she’s said something wrong, when his face suddenly twists back up into a smile.

“Spend the day with me.” He says and she blinks in surprise.

“What?”

“I had set out to ask you on a date when I came in today, but the whole attempted robbery stopped me. I know you want to just get back to work, but what if you spent the day with me instead?” He offers. She stares at him, wide eyed, before a wide smile forms on her face.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She says. It’d be fine to have the cafe closed for a day.

Event tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs

Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#brucinette #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat #maribat fanfiction #maribat ladybug #maribat batman #MaribatHalloween21 #maribatoctrp21 #ao3fic

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helaintoloki · 3 years

Text

Everybody Loves Somebody

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight language, themes of insecurity, angst, pining, slow burn (kinda?), eventual fluff, over 5k words in length

notes: it’s finally finished! this took forever but I swear I put my entire soul into making this as perfect as it could be. I’ve never used this format before in my writing and it was challenging but also super fun so hopefully you guys like it :) (also yes the title and the fic somewhat is inspired by the Dean Martin song)

summary: Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.

Sunday

Three quick raps on the apartment door force Bucky to kick back the covers and sluggishly rise from his spot on the floor. He’s exhausted, but his recognition of the evenly spaced knocks on the wooden frame has him feeling compelled to answer, and so he does. Too tired to notice the television is still droning on in the background, Bucky idly wraps his discarded blanket around his form to shield his vibranium arm before opening the door to greet the old man standing on the other side.

“Rough night, huh?” Yori greets with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” he replies with a tired, lopsided grin. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I set you up on a date,” the man says casually, as if setting Bucky up on dates without his knowledge and against his will is a common every day occurrence, and it is. “Saturday evening at six.”

“What— A date? Yori—“

“She’s a nice girl, very pretty. I think you’ll like her.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Bucky tries to interject, but Yori is already halfway down the hall before the super soldier can get another word in.

“You’re meeting her at the Italian place down the street!” Yori calls behind him. “She likes sunflowers!”

The old man’s shouts are sure to have woken up the entire fourth floor by now, but Bucky is too busy trying to process the jumble of information that has been thrust upon him so suddenly and so early in the morning to care. The last date Yori had sent him on had ended in disaster; Bucky wasn’t ready to get back out on the field, a stable relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. Surely no one in their right mind would stick around once they found out the truth about the man, and if they did it would only be a matter of time before the constant nightmares and extra baggage that came with dating the ex-Hydra assassin sent them running for the hills. But Yori meant well, Bucky knew that, and he also knew he owed the man more than he could ever give him in return, so if sitting through another painfully uncomfortable date would make him happy, then Bucky would just have to suck it up, put on the nicest shirt he owned, and charm his way through another awkward dinner.

“Sunflowers,” he grumbles to himself, quietly shutting the door before returning to his spot on the cold hardwood floor.

Monday

Monday mornings are gym mornings, early workouts that start at five and end at seven. He promptly returns to the apartment building at seven thirty, eight if he stops for breakfast, then goes to check the mail before heading back to the comfort of his sheltered apartment. He doesn’t receive much other than grocery coupons and an odd letter from the government every now and then, but he’s been told that a routine is good, it’s healthy, so on Monday mornings at seven thirty—or eight— Bucky pulls out his keys and opens his assigned metal box with a sense of indifference.

It’s eight o’clock on this particular morning, and with a half finished cup of coffee in hand the soldier opens the little metal compartment to find nothing other than stray specks of dust and the tiniest of spiderwebs in the top right corner of the box. It’s a familiar sight, but Bucky has learned not to let it bother him by now. Remember James, it has nothing to do with you, his therapist always said. You have to learn not to take things personally.

“It has nothing to do with me,” Bucky murmurs quietly before finally shutting his mailbox with a sigh. Coffee cup discarded in the nearby trash can, Bucky turns to make his trek towards the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of a beautifully familiar face.

Your name is y/n, you live on the fourth floor, and for someone reason you’re always covered in glitter. You’re on your way out the door, art supplies held clumsily in your grasp just begging to jump free from your hold, and despite the rush you seem to be in you still greet the man with a polite smile.

“Good morning,” you chime, honey coated voice filled with warmth and kindness for the stranger. Bucky simply gives you a halfhearted smile in return, watching you walk out the door and wishing he could just muster up the courage to speak to you.

You won the soldier’s heart the day you knocked on his door to drop off a “welcome to the neighborhood” casserole. It had only been his second day in his new apartment, and while he knew some of the other tenants were weary of the mysterious man with the thousand yard stare who had decided to call the building a home, you never once seemed to bat an eye at Bucky or his closed off nature. He had been a little short with you upon your first meeting, his anxiety coming off as annoyance, but still you wore that same kind smile of yours and assured him that if he ever needed anything you’d be happy to help. You were a kind person with a big heart, and Bucky didn’t want to chance snuffing out one of the few lights left in the world, so he let you be. Admiring you from afar was all he let himself have of you, and that was it.

Though, Bucky would be lying if he said you didn’t come across his mind every once in a while. He wondered what you were like, what music you listened to, how you liked your eggs in the morning, if you were an old soul or young at heart, if you’d ever let yourself fall into in the arms of a broken man and help pick up the pieces. It was a pipe dream, but sometimes a friendly smile from you in the morning was enough to get Bucky through an entire day. He hadn’t been with anyone in years, and while he didn’t think he was ready to get back out on the dating scene just yet he knew that if you asked him to he’d take the plunge in a heartbeat. You were an angel, and Bucky would never be able to bring himself to taint you with his touch.

Monday mornings are workout mornings, but they’re also mornings with you.

Tuesday

On Tuesday afternoons Bucky often finds himself in the company of Yori, ensuring the old man stays out of trouble and going out of his way to make sure his newest friend has a nice day out on the town. It isn’t much, and it never will be, but it’s enough for now, at least until Bucky can find the courage to tell the father just what exactly happened to his son on that fateful night. But until then, sushi for lunch will have to do.

He makes his usual trek to the man’s apartment, stomach already beginning to rumble at the prospect of a nice crunch roll, but Bucky’s hunger is soon replaced with nerves at the sight of the woman standing in Yori’s doorway.

You look pretty today, hair haphazardly styled in your rush out the door this morning, colorful stains of dry paint adoring your hands that clutch a bundle of books close to your chest, and a dangly pair of earrings that glint underneath the sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. There’s a smile on your face as you nod along to something Yori says that doesn’t quite register in the soldier’s jumbled thoughts, and the two of you are both too engrossed to notice his lingering presence standing just a few feet away.

“Thank you so much for lending me these. The kids keep me on my toes and I haven’t had any time to settle down with a good book so these were perfect,” you utter gratefully, handing off the pile of poetry books to Yori’s awaiting hands. Names of authors that Bucky doesn’t recognize catch his eye, just as his friend finally catches his presence.

“Of course. I have more if you’re ever interested,” he says before finally addressing the elephant in the hallway. “James, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”

Bucky stiffens at the sound of his name, heat immediately crawling up his neck as you turn to him with a friendly smile. Clearing his throat, he steps forward and musters up a meager grin in return.

“Like I’d ever miss Tuesday lunch,” he jokes, a nervous chuckle falling past his lips.

“I guess I better get going. Thank you again, Yori,” you chime with a grateful smile. Then, with your attention turned to Bucky, “Have a nice lunch, James.”

“Thank you...” he trails quietly, mentally kicking himself for his stiff demeanor and wishing he could be less pathetic in your presence just once. Just once and he’d die a happy man.

You leave with a polite smile, turning down the hallway and out of Bucky’s grasp once again. Yori elbows his side.

“She’s single, you know.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Bucky replies with a wry chuckle. “You have me set up with one girl already.”

“Right,” Yori notes thoughtfully with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite decipher. “I think you’re going to have a nice time on your date.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says in reply, your smile the only thing on his mind as the two men head out for the day.

Wednesday

Bucky has grown to love rainy days, days in which he can remain tucked away in the warmth and comfort of his own home with a relaxing mug of hot chocolate in one hand and some piece of pop culture media he has yet to catch up with in the other. Today’s pick is a book titled The Outsiders, and Bucky chooses to sit upon the windowsill to read the novel.

Gentle drops of rain trail down the glass window, pattering soothingly in a way that makes Bucky fear he may fall asleep. He sets the book aside with a tired sigh and glances out the window with his warm cheek pressed against the cool surface; the city is quiet and the streets nearly empty, and this makes it easier to spot you.

It’s almost as if you’ve been popping up out of nowhere lately, but Bucky never seems to mind. Watch from afar, that was the deal he made with himself, so who was he to complain if you made the task easier for him? He could never have you the way he wanted to because he doubted you’d ever want an unstable old man like him, and even if you did he’d be no good for you. He knew girls like you back in his day, girls with stars in their eyes and hearts on their sleeves, girls who’d melt in his arms whenever he so much as smiled at them. And yet you weren’t like any girl he’d ever seen; you were an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity deciphering the mystery of you. But he couldn’t, because he shouldn’t, so he didn’t.

Despite the gloomy gray skies hanging above you there’s a serene smile on your face as you stop to admire the pots of sunflowers outside the building, reminding Bucky he has to buy some for his date on Saturday. God, he was dreading it. Bucky was sure whatever girl Yori picked for him would be nice enough, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wish it were you he’d be taking out for a night on the town. A guy can dream, right?

You retreat into a nearby coffee shop when the rain begins to fall harder, and as Bucky turns to his own warm drink he finds that the mug is now cold. Book discarded, he rises from his spot on the windowsill and drowsily drags himself into the kitchen for another cup.

For a moment he thinks sunflowers might surely bring about his demise, and the passing thought brings the smallest of smiles to his face. Only time will tell.

Thursday

“How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?”

The woman stares at him expectantly, pristine notepad resting casually in her lap, pen in hand as a warning, eyebrows raised at the man as he stares down contemplatively at the stitching of his leather gloves. What should be a comforting environment instead only seems to put him on edge, and as the seconds tick by on the clock hung crookedly above the doorway her pen only seems to get closer to the blank page below her. Shoulders sagging, Bucky can only offer a small sigh in response.

“I can’t say I feel too great about it,” he finally says, the tension in his shoulders alleviating slightly as she finally puts the pen down.

“And why’s that?” Doctor Raynor prods curiously.

“I just don’t really think I’m all that ready for a relationship. What person wants to be with someone as screwed up as me?”

“The right person will,” Christina comforts. Your smiling face flashes briefly in his mind in response and he shifts in discomfort— the doctor notices. “But I don’t think you’re telling me the full story here, James. I suspect there’s something else that’s holding you back. Or maybe someone.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bucky retorts with a wry smile.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Her name’s y/n,” he says, your name falling past his lips in the softest tone Dr. Raynor has ever heard from him before. “I don’t know her all that well, but she lives in my apartment building so I see her around a lot. She’s... she’s really pretty.”

“Well, what is it about y/n that you like?”

Geez, where do I even begin?

“I don’t know,” Bucky shrugs, picking absently at a loose seam on the end of his shirt, “I guess I like how friendly she is. Every time I see her she’s always smiling, she always says good morning to everyone and lends a hand wherever she can. It’s like she goes out of her way to be nice to me, and I’m not really used to that but it’s a nice feeling. The first time I met her she never even flinched, she wasn’t scared like other people usually are, and even when I blew her off she still made it clear that I was welcome and if I needed a friend she’d be there. That’s the kind of person she is.”

“Did you take her up on that offer?” The woman asks, but by the look on her face Bucky is sure she already knows the answer.

“No...”

“James, we’ve talked about this,” Christina says firmly, “you have to stop closing yourself off from the people around you. Making a friend could really help you, especially if this girl is truly as nice as you say she is.”

“She is,” he reiterates firmly, “and that’s why I can’t be her friend.”

The doctor’s brows furrow with piqued interest at his admission, legs shifting underneath her as she gets comfortable in preparation for what will most likely be a heavy confession. “Can you elaborate for me?” She says. Bucky sighs.

“After everything that’s happened, and everything the world has been through, it just gets harder and harder to find some sort of light in the dark. So when you finally do find it, it’s like you have to do everything in your power to make sure it never goes out.”

“So y/n is a light?” Raynor reaffirms.

“For so many people,” Bucky nods, “and if I try to put myself in the picture I’ll only bring her down. There’s no future with me, and she deserves better than that.”

“How do you know that if you never put yourself out there?” The doctor asks softly, silently stunned by the heavy confession Bucky has entrusted her with; it’s the most he’s ever opened up before.

Pieces of the past dart through his mind, and in the midst of all the heartache and the chaos he sees Yori, the one friendship he’s been able to successfully maintain since his period of healing. The memory of the man is pleasant for a moment, until Bucky is reminded of the basis of their friendship and how one single confession will tear down everything they’ve built together. It doesn’t matter what kind of man he is now or how much control he has over his own life, the Winter Soldier will always have the final say, and nothing will ever change that. Finally, he speaks.

“I just do.”

Friday

“Crap.”

The softly uttered curse sounds from across the hallway and alerts Bucky of his struggling neighbor’s presence. Purse slipping off your shoulder and heavy groceries spilling from your arms, you struggle to maneuver your key into the lock of your front door all while the heat of embarrassment engulfs your body in a suffocating hold. You’re not as put together as you usually are, your belongings in disarray and eyes full of exhaustion rivaling that of his own, your usually meticulously picked clothing replaced by joggers and an old college sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big on you, and yet Bucky still finds himself frozen in your presence.

Don’t just stand there, help her you idiot, his mind screams at him, the soldier harshly swallowing down his nerves before taking shaky steps towards you. An orange slips out of the brown paper bag and rolls towards his feet, and Bucky takes it as his in into a conversation.

“Need some help?” He asks with a crooked smile, one that softens at the look of distress clear in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe out before offering a meager smile of your own. “Some help would be great, thank you.”

Bucky takes the heavier bags of groceries from your aching arms and returns the orange to its rightful place, allowing you the chance to take your keys and unlock the door. You don’t spare him another glance as you walk in, leaving it open as a silent invitation for him to let himself in. Bucky swallows nervously but wordlessly follows behind; he’s never been in a woman’s apartment before, and the fact that it’s yours makes the experience all the more nerve wracking.

Your apartment is small but personalized, decorated with little knickknacks and houseplants and old family portraits that Bucky does his best not to stare at in fear of being rude, and the vanilla scented candle that burns on the coffee table makes him feel all the more welcome. You drop your purse by the couch with a tired sigh before directing your attention to the man who stands awkwardly in your living room. His hulking figure makes your apartment seem tiny, oddly comforting in a way, but you hold back your giggles and merely guide him to your kitchen.

“You can set them on the counter,” you say with a passive wave before reaching into one of the cabinets for a glass cup. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you,” the man says politely as he settles the heavy bags down on the marble surface; as much as he’d like to sit and spend the evening with you, he can’t stay long, or more like he won’t allow himself to stay long. Your movements are clumsy as you down your glass of water, and Bucky looks away flustered as little droplets begin to escape the corners of your lips and dribble down your neck. “I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but are you alright? You seem a bit... flustered.”

“Is it that obvious?” You joke quietly, your smile barely reaching your eyes as you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky begins to say in fear of overstepping, but you merely shake your head in response.

“I’m just a little stressed out. The kids always keep me on my toes, especially now that there’s more of them, and it’s been hard trying to get some of them to readjust.”

“Kids?” He repeats with furrowed brows. He can’t recall ever seeing you with any children, and there’s no sign of any living with you in your apartment. A genuine laugh leaves your lips this time at his response and Bucky tenses uncomfortably. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” you explain with a smile, and everything clicks in Bucky’s mind then. That would explain the constant paint stains and trails of glitter left in your wake, the arts and crafts supplies and stacks of drawings you seem to carry with you everywhere. And here he thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger than it already was— were you even real?

“The effects of the blip have been really difficult for them. It’s hard having to come back to school and see that all your old friends are now five grades ahead of you. I know everyone has been impacted in some way by what happened, but it’s harder for the younger ones to understand. I’m doing my best to make the transition back to normalcy easier for them, but some days are harder than others, you know?”

“Sounds rough,” is all Bucky can manage to say, swallowing his emotions back harshly.

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly, rubbing away the clear exhaustion in your eyes, “but I’m trying my best.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

You smile then, a genuine smile, one that makes Bucky weak in the knees, and suddenly it’s as if all the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“I really needed to hear that,” you utter softly, “thank you.”

“What are neighbors for?” Bucky jokes lamely, but you must like his sense of humor for you let out the quietest of giggles.

“You’re sweet. I like talking with you, but I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

“Not really,” he shrugs with a crooked smile, “I just had some errands to run before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask curiously, brows raising with interest as Bucky awkwardly looks down at your hardwood floor.

“I’ve got a date.”

“Huh, no kidding. Me too,” you smile, and in response Bucky’s heart slowly begins to sink to his stomach. Yori had said you were single, but only an idiot would believe that someone like you could stay that way for long. Maybe if he had taken the doctor’s advice sooner he could be the one you’re seeing instead of the lucky guy that beat him to it.

“I should get going... I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you again for the help, and good luck on your date,” you say with an encouraging smile. Bucky swallows harshly in response, a look of longing in his eyes that he hides well with a meager quirk of his lips.

“You too,” he murmurs in response, casting you once last glance before showing himself out. The lock clicks behind him, and Bucky trudges back to his own empty apartment.

Saturday

The dining patio of the Italian restaurant is pleasantly empty, but the quiet stillness does little to help soothe Bucky’s nerves as he waits for the arrival of his date. He probably should have asked Yori what she looked like, what her name was and what she’d be wearing so he’d know what to expect, but the old man had been adamant on keeping the identity of his date a surprise.

“It’ll be better that way,” he had said, “trust me.”

The bouquet of sunflowers sits before him on the table almost tauntingly, their bright colors and sweet scent sending his senses into overdrive. He almost resented them, but then he thought of your smiling face through the window and the tension from his shoulders began to dissipate— if you could be strong and put on a brave face despite all the bad things that had happened in the world, then so could he.

“James?” A meek voice calls quietly, pulling the man from his thoughts. His blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the woman standing before him and he swallows anxiously.

“Y/n?” Bucky replies, quickly rising from his seat and cringing at the way in which the legs of the chair scrape harshly across the floor with his sudden movements. Here he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and here you were proving him wrong with your cute little outfit and styled hair and charming smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my date,” you explain with a sheepish smile. Bucky deflates— not only would he have to suffer through his own painfully awkward date, but he’d also have to sit and watch you get swept off your feet by someone else all in the same night.

“Oh... well, who’s the lucky guy?”

“That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh, “I think you are.”

“Me?” Bucky repeats flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Yori was the one who said I should try dating again. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time with other adults since I’m always with my students, and when I said I didn’t really know anyone he told me he’d take care of it for me. All he told me was to come to this restaurant Saturday at six and look for the man with sunflowers,” you summarize before gesturing to the bouquet on the table, “and you’re the only one here with sunflowers so...”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Bucky then at the realization, and he isn’t sure whether he should jump for joy or wait for the ground below to swallow him whole. Finally he had a chance to spend time with the girl who had taken over his thoughts and occupied every available space in his heart, and yet he couldn’t help but feel terrified. A date was a big step up from neighborly conversation in your apartment, and all of Bucky’s hopes of developing something more with you were riding on this one date. Yori knew exactly what he was doing by setting the two of you up, and Bucky had no choice but to be grateful for the man who had bestowed upon him the chance to finally win you over.

“If this is too awkward for you we can just skip this whole date—“

“No, it’s not awkward at all,” Bucky is quick to interject. “I mean, this whole thing is certainly a surprise but it’s a good one. It’s an honor to be your blind date.”

He flashes a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, and he knows then that he’s back in the game— who would have guessed he’d be able to dust off his old moves with such ease? He had to if he wanted any kind of chance at winning you over.

“In that case, why don’t we get out of here? This restaurant is a little stuffy,” you note with a small chuckle, your nerves slowly beginning to dwindle.

“Alright, what do you have in mind?”

The nightlife atmosphere of the plaza square is surprisingly much more comfortable compared to the dining patio, and Bucky considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to witness firsthand the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the light of the starry sky. A nighttime stroll is right up Bucky’s alley, and you both fall into a comfortable step as you talk about whatever topic seems to come to mind. You speak of your students, about how much their smiling little faces have helped you get through the toughest times, how there’s a stray cat who calls the dumpsters behind your apartment building a home and waits for your arrival on trash days because you always bring the feline a special treat. Alpine, you had named it, and Bucky adored that greatly.

The details are vague but you enjoy the stories he tells you of his childhood and the way his whole face seems to light up at the mere mention of his mother and sister; that look dwindles slightly when he speaks of his old best friend, but you pretend not to notice. As a younger man Bucky worked at the docks before serving time in the army, though he fails to mention where he’d been stationed, and now he works for the government. You feel almost giddy to be learning so much about the man you once believed would rather prefer solitude over your company, and as the night drags on and the conversation begins to dwindle you almost wish you could reverse the clock and do it all over again.

“Thank you,” Bucky says after a moment of silence, prompting you to halt your steps and raise a brow curiously at your counterpart.

"What for?"

“Taking a chance on a guy like me,” he smiles faintly while offering you a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t really done anything like this in a while, and the idea of putting myself back out there scared me shitless, but you just make things so much easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is when I’m with you everything comes naturally, and I really appreciate that.”

“Oh,” you utter softly, a sheepish smile of your own gracing your lips as you turn away to admire the scenery around you. It isn’t until now that you notice you’ve stopped before the fountain, the arches of water flowing overhead illuminated by the fluorescent lights below them. A nervous fluttering occupies your stomach and when you finally meet Bucky’s gaze you feel as if nothing else in the entire world mattress other than the two of you in this moment. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of in the same boat, so that just means we can figure this out as we go. Together.”

“I like that,” Bucky affirms with a nod, a look that can only be described as lovestruck taking over his features. Nerves overcome you then as you clutch your bouquet of flowers to your chest, heart thrumming rapidly in your rib cage as Bucky steps closer. The glove that had once shielded his right hand from the cold is now missing as he gently cups your cheek and encompasses you with his warmth. His palm is calloused and rough but comforting all the same, and it takes everything in your power not to melt like putty in his grasp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs quietly as if raising his voice any higher will ruin the moment.

“Yeah,” you breathe shakily, swallowing back your nerves, “it’s okay.”

Your softly uttered words of confirmation are all Bucky needs to hear before dipping down and gently brushing his lips against your own. His movements are hesitant for only a moment, and it is only once he’s sure you are comfortable and secure that he moves in for more. Your lips are soft against his own, plush and warm and so sweet, and as your eyes begin to flutter shut and the forgotten sunflowers slip out of your grasp you drape your arms securely across his shoulders at the same moment in which his left hand joins his right in cupping your face as if you were a precious jewel in need of the upmost care.

Nothing exists when you are in each other’s arms, you are safe and sound in your own little world, and as you part to take a breath Bucky realizes then that one kiss is all he needs to know that you are the one he’s been waiting for all his life.

And by god, if you aren’t more than worth the wait.

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Rot

A/N: this is a crosspost from another website i used to be on just to have something posted till i can get my shit together, sorry for being so inactive lately :)

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Tomura Shigaraki/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: emotional manipulation, spoilers for tomura's backstory?, fem pronouns Summary: He doesn't want another sister. He doesn't want another sister. He swears. ~~~

"Go on, you can do it. Destroy her. Use your power and destroy her, Shigaraki, Tomura."

"You don't have to do that, you know," Tomura grumbled, watching as his foster sister carefully cleaned a cut on his knee, "It's just a scrape."

(Y/n) didn't bother listening to her younger brother, "Scrape or not, it could get infected. Already sucks I have to deal with you reeking and not showering, I'm not gonna let you get an infection too."

"I don't need you looking after me," the young boy's lips curled into a snarl; he pushed her away because he didn't need her. He didn't want to need another older sister. He didn't deserve another older sister.

"Sure you don't," she nodded, but continued with her delicate care on the boy's bony leg; she only pushed back harder.

"She's a weakness, Tomura. You can't have her around. She'll only drag you down."

"Hey."

Tomura jumped, tearing off his headphones and whipping around in his chair. Wide, red eyes staring at his older sister in his bedroom doorway, a furrow in her brows and clear disappointment on her face. He was supposed to be asleep five hours ago.

"I know the old man doesn't care when you go to bed, but I do," (Y/n) carefully took the headphones off her little brother and set them on his desk, "You need sleep or else you'll go crazy."

The boy huffed, turning off his computer and storming to his bed, "What if I'm already crazy?"

"Alright, buddy," the teenager assisted her eight-year-old brother into bed, "if I come back up here and you're not asleep I'll have to hurt ya, got it?"

Tomura rolled his eyes, grabbing at his blankets and pulling them over his tiny body, "Why don't you have to go sleep?"

"Are you kidding?" she squinted playfully at the little boy, "It's midnight, what kind of baby goes to bed at midnight?"

"You ass," he turned on his side, still staring up at the girl, "it's not fair... you're only six years older than me..."

"Six years is quite the difference," (Y/n) ruffled her brother's ratty tangles of hair before handing him a stuffed bunny, "Fixed him up for you."

A few seconds of hesitation before Tomura took the plush animal with a four-fingered grip, "I decayed him for a reason, you know."

"Master doesn't have to know," the older of the pair whispered, a tiny grin on her face, "I may or may not have used my Quirk without permission."

"You could get in trouble for that," the young boy murmured, though obviously distressed.

Her Quirk was on strict lockdown; only to be used when All for One said it would be used. If she disobeyed, she was isolated from her brother - from everyone - for days, maybe weeks. She wasn't even let out for food, it would be brought to her by Kurogiri's warp. No entertainment, no people, no light aside from the one window.

"Eh," she waved it off as though it wasn't torturing to live through, "it's worth it, I know how much you loved him."

A tiny, tired smile stretched over the thin, cracked lips of the boy, "Thank you..."

"Of course, little man."

"Don't be fooled. She's only trying to stop you, all she wants is to stop your goal."

"He... he did what?"

"One of us is clearly more affected by this than the other."

"Stop deflecting," Tomura seethed, restraining himself from crumbling the glass in his hand, "Why would you let him do that?"

(Y/n) shrugged, wiping down the bar counter with a cloth, "My Quirk is just gonna go back to you anyway. I never got to use it, so what's the point?"

"Do you understand the weight of what you've done?"

"Of course, I do," the woman shrugged, "I'm Quirkless but that doesn't mean I'm any less your sister. I gotta look out for you, if that means handing over Regeneration then fine."

"But..." he shook his head, as if his fumbling would provide room for an answer, "why? Why would you do that for me?"

"You're my little brother, I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"Go on, you can do it. Destroy her. Use your power and destroy her, Shigaraki, Tomura."

Tomura stood over his sleeping sister, the words from his master repeating in his head. He was to kill his sister. He was to kill his weakness; the girl that practically raised him was a poison and his Quirk was the antidote.

She was sleeping on the couch, as Himiko had recently taken up her room for some practice with her Quirk. A quilt hung over her body, one familiar from childhood. The siblings had shared it when they were little, it was slung over their shoulders on movie nights. On nights where Tomura would wake up in a cold sweat remembering the family he killed. By morning it didn't matter anymore, this hand-sewn blanket was there. (Y/n) was always there.

His fingers flexed and he took a step closer.

(Y/n) turned onto her other side, face now visible to her little brother. He stopped.

Her face hadn't changed all that much from when they first met. It was less chubby and more mature, obviously, but it could still be held to that eleven-year-old and he'd know. He'd know it was his older sister.

Tomura stared down at the face from his darkest times and reached out.

His hand hovered over her head for a few moments.

A weakness, for sure. If someone held her captive, he'd do anything to get her back to safety. But a weakness he would rather be dead than let die by his hand.

The outstretched hand quickly retracted. Tomura watched the woman peacefully sleep for a second more before turning around and walking up the stairs to his room. He wouldn't do it. He'd let the poison consume him before using the antidote to wipe it out.

He'd be in his grave before he let harm come to his sister.

#bnha x reader #bnha x reader platonic #tomura x reader platonic #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Give you what you want (Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo

Summary: You’ve been crushing hard on Javier - and Colonel Carrillo. And when they both find out about it, they can’t help but indulge you.

Word count: +11.1k

Chapter warnings: mild angst, mentions of violence, divorce talk, discussion of polyamorous relationship. OT3 SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, double penetration, alcohol, a lot of cum lol

A/N: this is a collab between me, @maharani-radha-writes and @queenofthefaceless, okay, yes this is a repost (basically the blog in which this os was posted blocked me). originally posted on april 6th 2021

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

Carrillo slammed his face on the steering wheel of his car with a groan. He had just spent all day in court finalizing his divorce—which had been going on for months—and just as he had gotten home, he realized that he had forgotten his service pistol at the office. Something he was not allowed to bring in the courtroom.

Fuckers.

He had separation anxiety from it, so even though he had multiple spares in the house, he had one trusty weapon, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without it. He glanced at the clock, and saw that it was only eight o’clock, so it wasn’t too late for him to swing back to base and grab it. Shaking his head, he turned the ignition of his car back on and reversed out of his driveway to head back to the station.

When he got there, he used his keys to enter through the back doorway, not really wanting to have to greet the guards at the front. He was just… way too done with people that day. Although he and his by then ex-wife had separated amicably (or as amicably as it could get), the divorce had taken a huge toll on him. He and Juliana had separated about five months before, and he had spent that time sitting in lawyers’ conference rooms, arguing over this and that. He was ready to just give her everything and anything she wanted if it meant he could get that painful process over with.

Truth be told, Carrillo was lonely. He had been for a long time, even while he was still married to Juliana. They had been less of a married couple and more like roommates for the past year at least, and it was getting to them both. His job was tough and dangerous–Juliana didn’t understand a lot of it. To be fair, he kept most of it from her, but that got exhausting after a while. He longed to just...let go, and he couldn’t do that with her. And after a while, she had decided that staying married to him (and his job) was more trouble than it was worth. He couldn’t blame her, not one bit.

It didn’t matter any more. He had firmly closed that chapter of his life, and was ready to move on. He didn’t know what the future looked like for him, but the only thing that he was sure of was that Pablo Escobar would be dead. He would make sure of it–even if he died trying.

After finding his service pistol, which had been stuffed in a holster under his desk, Carrillo closed the door to his office, and proceeded to walk down the hallway to the back exit. But he stopped when he heard voices coming from the bullpen.

Odd.

He hadn’t seen anyone when he had come in. He turned slightly and strained his ears to try to see if he could discern who it was. Then he heard the distinct Southern American drawl of none other than Steve Murphy. The man had been pulling late nights in the office ever since his wife got up and left him.

“All right, kiddo, care to tell me what the fuck your problem is?”

Who–? Was “kiddo”? It certainly couldn’t be Peña. It was a Friday night, surely Peña was off….doing something (or someone) else.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem, Murph?”

Oh, it was you. The lone female agent of the DEA. Carrillo had been quite wary of you when you had joined the team about a year before. He really wasn’t sure what, if anything, you would be bringing to the table. And he thought that having two DEA agents was two too many already. But over time, you had proven to be a strong, capable, and intelligent partner, and his respect for you had grown.

Bringing you to Colombia had been a good decision, on the part of your superiors.

Now that he had identified the two people still stuck in the base, he should have been satisfied and been on his way. But something about Steve’s tone of voice kept him rooted to the spot. He really, really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, especially since he was sure that it was a conversation he was not meant to hear.

“You’re on edge. A lot more than usual,” Steve said, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Steve. Just drop it,” you grumbled.

“Oh, so there is something?” Steve snarked, “Look, I normally would back off and leave you alone, but you’ve been highly distracted lately. And it’s affecting your work. I need to know what’s up or at least confirm that you’re going to get this resolved soon because we need your head in the game.”

Now that Steve mentioned it, Carrillo had noticed that you were...not yourself. And you hadn’t been for a while. But Carrillo was too caught up in his own drama to give it much of a thought.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I’ll try not to be so scatterbrained. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“Is this what I think it is? The thing you told Connie that I’m not supposed to know about?” Steve asked.

Carrillo knew he absolutely needed to leave. That was not a conversation he should be listening to. But he just could not help it.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Steve. I’ve told Connie a lot of things,” you chuckled, nervously.

“I mean about–” there was a pause, presumably Steve looking around to check that nobody was there, “–your feelings. For, uh, ya know, Peña?”

Oh. That was news.

“And–uh–Carrillo I think?” Steve continued.

Wait...what?

Carrillo whipped his head around so fast that he winced as his neck twinged in protest. Since when...since when did you have feelings? For him? And Peña? What was happening? Someone needed to shoot him because that could not be real.

“Must you say it aloud?” you hissed.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Steve apologized, “And normally I would mind my own fucking business, but this is getting out of hand. You really don’t think I notice the cows’ eyes you make at Peña when he’s not looking?”

“I don’t do that!” you denied, indignantly.

“Okay fine, maybe that’s a bit dramatic,” Steve conceded, “But the point still stands. You definitely need to get this fixed. Have you thought, oh I don’t know, telling Peña? Or even Carrillo?”

“Are you crazy?” you stammered, “Do you have any idea what that would do to my career? Not to mention that Carrillo is...fucking married?”

“Well, he’s divorced now,” Steve clarified, “And nobody has to know. It’s nobody else’s business but yours. I’m just saying, think about it ok? You deserve an outlet, just like everyone else.”

Carrillo decided that it was best to not stay and hear what you had to say to that. Instead, he hightailed it out of the base, as quickly as he could, trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to alert you and Steve to his presence. Once he was finally in the safety of his car, he put his head back onto the seat and let out a long breath, trying to figure out what he was going to do with that information. He couldn’t deny that the idea of you having feelings for him was incredibly flattering. You were a very guarded individual and quite hard to read sometimes–not so dissimilar to him. He would have never, in a million years, guessed that you would be interested in him, and that was mostly due to your closed off persona.

But to find out that you had feelings for both him and Peña? That was an interesting development. Carrillo didn’t know how to feel about that. But he can’t deny that it intrigued him...more than it should have. His mother would be completely mortified if she found out that he was entertaining this--whatever it was.

But his mother was not here. His wife was gone, and had taken the kids with her. It was just him, and his large house. And now, apparently, you and possibly Peña. Carrillo tilted his head contemplatively and started the ignition of his car.

Maybe...just maybe, there was something to this whole charade.

**Scene Break 1**

Steve was tired. Scratch that, he was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally.

Javier had been looking at you for far too long, and Steve could taste the yearning and the tension that lingered around the office when Peña looked at you. It was maddening, and Steve had no idea how Peña had managed this long without jumping you. After all, he never seemed to have a problem getting a woman’s attention and keeping it. So, why were you so different?

And the worst part of this whole circus is that you were so blissfully unaware of it. It made Steve’s mouth foam with rage.

When he told Connie over the phone, the previous night, what you had said to him and how you had confessed to being attracted to both men, she actually convinced him to talk to Javi on your behalf. Because Connie knew you, and she knew you would just shut up about it, guard it as if you were a dragon with a treasure, never say a thing, and suffer in silence until your feelings went away. And if they didn’t. Too bad. Steve hadn’t wanted to get involved. After all, you were an adult, and Javier was an adult. You should be able to sort these things out yourself. But alas, that had not happened. And if Steve didn’t do something about it, it was going to get out of hand, quickly.

So when you got up from your desk and got out of the office, Steve walked to Javier and slammed his hand on a pile of files that Javier was almost hiding behind.

“Yes, Murphy, how can I help you?” Peña drawled, trying to keep his voice as even and unaffected as possible.

“Don’t give me that innocent bullshit, Peña,” Steve growled, “I’m so sick of you.”

“What could I have possibly done now?” Javier huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. He figured that if he played dumb, Steve would go away.

Alas.

“You, and her,” Steve said, emphasizing his point by jabbing his finger in the direction of the door you had just walked out of, “There’s something between the two of you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Javier decided not to answer that. Instead he just took a puff of his cigarette and stared at Steve, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious Peña, stop playing coy. This is starting to affect your working relationship, and I’m getting sick of it,” Steve grumbled, “Do something about it. Now.”

It took a few moments of silence, but Javier finally decided to concede to Steve. Truth was, Javier’s head was full of thoughts. Full of you. Truth be told, getting infatuated with you was just a matter of time.

You were just… frustratingly attractive, incredibly strong and so damn smart. A dangerous combination, you were almost perfect. And that, scared the shit out of him. It had been a long time since Javier felt like that; he didn’t like the vulnerability of it all, he didn’t like how it was way too apparent that whatever you did, for small that it was, affected him in some way. He didn’t like the fact that he wanted to be with you all the time, see you all the time, talk to you all the time. He wanted to protect you all the time even when he knew you could perfectly protect yourself. And he had been feeling like that for months.

Javier interpreted that as karma, getting so madly, deeply into you and getting absolutely nothing in return. Until Steve chimed in, nosy as ever, to speak about something that was clear as a water drop but he just kept denying from himself.

He replayed what Steve had told him while he puffed from his cigarette and for a split second, and let himself smile at the words of his partner.

Steve was right. He was aware of how much he had been missing and how affected his job seemed to be because of how much time he spent thinking about you. It was so unlike him, and it was very unprofessional. But he just couldn’t help it.

You and your strikingly beautiful being. You letting him hold you close. You, with your hands on him. You and how sweet your lips must taste. You and how your naked body must look in the dimmed lights of his bedroom. Fuck.

So he decided, after his partner all but scolded him about being too dumb to realize, that he was going to face you and just… make things happen.

Steve smiled to himself while looking down at a file when Javier stood up from his own desk and walked out of the office.

“Attaboy,” he mumbled to himself.

**Scene Break 2**

You weren’t sure what it was, but suddenly the air in that bullpen had become oppressive, and you just needed to get out. Well, frankly...you weren’t stupid. You knew what was causing you to feel this way. It was stupid Steve and his stupid way of being right all the time, how the fuck did he do that? At some point, you were going to have to tell Javier (and possibly Carrillo, as well) how you felt, but if you could put it off for longer, you were absolutely going to do so.

You sat on the concrete wall bordering the police base, observing quietly as the citizens of Medellín went about their day, getting lunch and catching up with their colleagues. There was a man selling arepas just a few feet from you, and the smell was amazing. But no matter how tantalizing the scent was, you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat. All you needed was some air. Yeah, that’s what you needed. You’d be fine after a few moments.

Unfortunately, your peace wasn’t to last long, and as you were soon to discover, your observational skills would need a check up because Colonel Horacio Carrillo himself had just plopped himself next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed. Carrillo, for his part, waited a few moments before clearing his throat, startling you from your thoughts, and successfully getting your attention.

Ah shit.

One of the exact men that you didn’t want to deal with right now was sitting right next to you.

Joy.

“Those arepas look fantastic,” he remarked in that lovely accent you really liked, “Do you want one?”

You shook your head.

“No thank you,” you mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Carrillo hummed.

“I’m sure we could find something else if you would prefer. There’s all kinds of food in Medellín,” he replied. But you refused again.

“No, really, I’m fine. I don’t want any food,” you said.

Carrillo tilted his head and clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, and if you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it.

“I see,” he observed, amusedly, “So, then, Agent. What do you want?”

You frowned, and furrowed your eyebrows. What...what was he doing?

“I–I don’t want anything,” you replied, completely flabbergasted.

“Hmmm,” Carrillo began, “I don’t believe you. I think you want something.”

You raised your eyebrows at that. You’d never known the Colonel to be so bold.

“I want Escobar dead,” you quipped, “Same as you, I suppose.”

“Ah yes, I certainly want that,” Carrillo agreed, “But I want something else. Something that I imagine might be the same as you.”

You scratched the back of your neck, nervously, not sure where this was going.

“All right, Colonel, I’ll bite. What is it that you want?” you questioned.

Carrillo adjusted his position on the wall, turning so that he was facing you squarely. He looked you straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath, as if he was working up the courage to say something.

“You.”

You felt the air leave your lungs, Carrillo’s face was a puzzle laid before you but before you could say something else, you heard a deep, timbered voice calling your name.

You reluctantly turned around and saw Peña walking up to the both of you, you felt Carrillo shift beside you and let out a sigh, as if he knew something like that would happen.

“I was looking for you,” Javier mumbled, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear but you.

“So, you found me,” your voice was shaky after the Colonel’s admission, and you tried to control it “What?”

“Can we–uh–talk?” he said, and you looked back at Carrillo.

“Can it wait?” you pleaded.

“No,” Javier declared.

“I think I know what this is about,” Carrillo announced, and you frowned at him, asking with your eyes for him to elaborate. But he just stayed quiet, looking between you and Peña.

“What do you mean?” Javier huffed, “This is a private conversation that I need to have with her.”

“I think we all need to have this conversation,” Carrillo mumbled, looking at the ground for half a second before returning his gaze to you and Javier.

“What are you two on?” you asked, frantically, “I am so confused.”

Javier glanced at the Colonel, at the way he was all but shifting around like a nervous kid. He realized Carrillo moved like he was hiding something, like he had a secret he so wanted to confess.

“Do you know something?” Javier questioned him, furrowing his brow. The Colonel turned to study him and there was a small moment in which they said nothing, and their eyes just locked.

And there, Javier saw him, as he was. Colonel Horacio Carrillo was an honorable man, everyone knew that, but as he was honorable he was dark, and Javier had a small suspicion of what he knew and was badly hiding.

Javier felt himself smirk at the man and Carrillo smirked back, and Javi knew it. Because he never misses things like that. For him is like having a sixth sense, somehow enhanced by his career and his experience. He just knows. Javier had never been indifferent to men. After all, being honest with himself, he had a little crush on Steve before he saw the wedding band. And Carrillo was… just his type. He never thought he would have the chance to even get closer to the Colonel like that. In the end, the time was not right and he was quite sure Carrillo wasn’t like that.

Clearly, he had been mistaken.

“Okay you two, I’ve had enough,” you grumbled, “What is going on? I’m sick of these games.”

“This is not a game,” Carrillo said, finally looking at you, you felt your frown get deeper.

“Then what is it?” you demanded.

Javier shrugged and took one last look at Carrillo, as if to confirm his consent, and replied.

“An arrangement,” he deadpanned, “With both of us.”

“If you want it,” Carrillo added, quickly.

You shot up from the wall you were sitting on and turned to glare at both of them. Javier put his hands on his waist and leaned on a leg, and Carrillo stood up as well, clasped hands in front of him, just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

Javier glanced nervously at Carrillo from the corner of his eye, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. I hope this is gonna go how you were planning, Carrillo, he thought, Because if it doesn’t and she refuses to speak to me again after this...I swear to god–

“Where did you get this idea?” you blabbered, feeling the sting of nervousness and insecurity settling into your stomach. Along with something else in your lower belly you refused to acknowledge at all.

Javier sighed, and shook his head.

“Steve Murphy has a big mouth,” he murmured.

“Dios mío,” you exclaimed, “He told you both?”

“Well, he told me,” Javier said, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know about our Colonel over here.”

Now it was Carrillo’s turn to look sheepish.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Carrillo admitted, “I overheard the two of you talking the other day.”

“You eavesdropped on me?” you gasped, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is nothing I say private?”

Carrillo at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was an accident,” he tried to assure you, “But–I don’t regret listening in. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, trying to figure out what you were going to do. It wasn’t that you were–unhappy–more so embarrassed. You’d been carrying this secret for a long time now, and to have it so out in the open made you feel more exposed than ever. And you hated the feeling.

“I’m gonna need a minute,” you said, “Can we talk about this later? I need some space.”

Without waiting for a response, you briskly walked away from the police base and in the direction of the city. You weren’t sure where you were going or when you were going to be back. All that you knew was that your privacy had been massively violated, and you needed some space to collect yourself. Alone. And perhaps when you had calmed down, you could think about Carrillo and Peña’s proposal, like a functioning adult. But right now, you were too embarrassed (and aroused, let’s be real), to think straight.

Javier turned aside to look at Carrillo when your figure had disappeared into the city.

“So,” Javier broke the not-so-awkward silence, “Are you okay with this?”

Carrillo huffed at the question and glanced at the agent, noticing in him things he hadn't noticed before.

“Are you?”

Javier felt his stomach drop at the Colonel’s question… interesting.

“I’m all in,” he replied, smirking at Carrillo.

“Yo también.”

**Scene Break 3**

It was later in the afternoon by the time you had calmed down enough to return to work. You couldn’t believe what had happened today. You absolutely wanted to smack Steve. What you had told him was in confidence, and he had broken that trust. But you couldn’t deny that you were happy with the result. The idea of having even just one of those two men was enough to get you going, but both?

Men like them?

The pool of arousal was already forming in between your legs.

You could not deny how much you had wanted this, and how much you had been dreaming about it. And for a very long time. For god’s sake, you had lost sleep over this shit. It made you feel dirty, filthy, unprofessional. But you just couldn’t help it. You’d done a decent enough job of keeping your feelings in check, but now the cat was out of the bag.

And not only did these two men know how you felt. Apparently, they felt the same way. And for some godforsaken reason, they wanted you.

Were you really going to say no to an opportunity like that? Were you truly that stupid? No matter how much you were angry with Steve.

Connie would lose her shit when you'd call her to tell her about her husband’s work.

You walked into the bullpen and saw the office door opened, the first thing you saw was Javier’s face buried inside a file, his posture rigid and his hands grasping at the folder as if it were a lifeline.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw you walk in.

But then you saw Murphy, sitting like nothing had happened and you saw red. You rushed at him and without a word your hand flew and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“What the fuck?” he yelled, and you heard Javier laughing behind you.

“You asshole,” you hissed, “Exactly what made you think it was a good idea to tell him? I trusted you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Excuse me,” Steve groaned, rubbing the back of his head, “I did you a fucking favor. I got tired of hanging around with you two idiots, just looking at each other and not saying shit.”

“You should not have done that,” you growled, fixing him with what you hoped was your most intimidating glare.

“Perhaps not,” Steve shrugged, “But I don’t regret it.”

“Can I–say something?” Javier asked behind you.

“No. Shut up.” you hissed without looking back at him.

“You do something like this again, and I’ll kill you,” you threatened Steve before storming out of the base, and into the parking lot. You sat in the driver’s seat of your car and banged your head against the steering wheel. You had had every intention of finding Peña and Carrillo and taking them up on their offer, but now all feelings of boldness had been once again replaced by shame and embarrassment. No doubt you were the talk of the police base, what with your massive crush on two of your colleagues.

Although you knew it was irrational, you couldn’t help but feel as though Carrillo and Peña were making fun of you. You knew it was stupid. Both of them were grown-ass men. They wouldn’t be so immature. If they didn’t like you at all, they would have just left you alone. But you just couldn’t help the raging insecurity you were feeling. Perhaps if you had actually told both of them, directly, how you felt, rather than let Steve Murphy do the hard work, then maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

But that was all water under the bridge now, you supposed.

Later that night, you were heating up a pitiful TV-dinner in your apartment, not feeling up to eating, but you needed something, when your phone rang. You froze with the fork halfway to your mouth. There were only a handful of people who had your landline number, and even then, only a few of those people would have the guts to actually call it. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

Sighing, you trudged over to the phone and lifted the receiver to your ear.

“¿Sí?” you asked, quietly, and you heard the low voice of Colonel Carrillo on the other end.

“It’s me,” he said softly, “You left work rather abruptly. I called to see if you were fine.”

“As fine as I can be, given the circumstances,” you grumbled.

“I’m sorry that things transpired the way they did, truly,” Carrillo mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic, “But I meant it when I said I don’t regret finding out.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you snarked, “You’re not the one whose colleague breached her trust.”

There was a pause before Carrillo spoke again.

“Do you regret it?”

Now it was your turn to pause, contemplating your words and how you would respond. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, you wanted to make it clear that you weren’t pleased with the means---even if the end was fantastic.

“I regret how this started,” you replied, slowly, not trusting yourself to say anything further.

Carrillo hummed over the line, contemplating your words.

“I can’t blame you for that,” he said, “But forget about Steve for a moment, please. Have you thought about it?”

You inhaled and held your breath for ten counts, trying to calm down your racing heart. You couldn’t deny that just the mere thought of being in the same room with these two men, especially in a non-platonic setting, was difficult for you.

“I think you know the answer to that, Colonel. You aren’t stupid,” you quipped, “Have you discussed this with Peña? I must admit, I am surprised at you both. This doesn’t seem like something either of you would be interested in.”

“We’ve discussed this, absolutely,” Carrillo said, recalling the deeper conversation he had with Peña earlier that day after you had slapped Steve, “I think we’ve both surprised ourselves, if I’m being honest. But if the attraction is there, it’s there. But I want you to know, there is no pressure. This only goes as far as you want it to go.”

You frowned at that.

“What do you mean?” you pressed.

“Querida,” he sighed, “What happens between the three of us–well–Peña and I know where we stand–it’s up to you now. If you don’t want this, then just say the word. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”

You took a shuddering breath and tried to respond as best as you can.

“I–”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Carrillo interrupted gently, “Think about it. Make sure it’s what you want. Then you can let us know.”

“I–ok,” you stuttered, for lack of a better response.

“I should leave you to your evening. But think about it, and let me know what you decide ,” Carrillo said, “Have a good night, querida.”

“Sure, good night, Colonel,” you mumbled, hearing the click on the other end, indicating that Carrillo had hung up.

You passed the rest of the evening in relative silence, going about your mundane business with an extra air of heaviness. Slowly you could feel the embarrassment from the day give way to desire. As you lay by yourself in your bed, clutching at your pillow, you couldn’t help the acute sense of loneliness that you felt. After all, you hadn’t really had anyone before you came to Colombia, and your job here certainly killed whatever chance of having a relationship you might have had. It was why you had so easily fallen for both of your colleagues.

You were lonely. And they were lonely too. But it wasn’t just out of loneliness. You’d seen what Peña was like when he just wanted to have a warm body next to him. Just as it had taken courage for you to confess how you felt to Steve, it must have taken just as much strength for Carrillo and Peña to admit the same to you. This wasn’t going to be a one time thing–born out of isolation and tragedy–it would be something much more meaningful than that. You could feel it.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just past midnight. Although you knew that Carrillo usually stayed up late, you didn’t want to bother him, so you dialed the number of the only other person who you knew would be up this late.

“Hello?” Javier Peña gruffed on the other end, clearly annoyed at having been woken up.

“Javier, it’s me,” you said, by way of greeting. You heard some rustling of bedsheets, no doubt Javier was fully awake now.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern coloring his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just–I’ve thought about your offer. Yours and Carrillo’s.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“And what do you say, cariño?” he questioned, hope ringing in his voice.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Yes. I’m saying yes.”

**Scene Break 4**

You sat inside Javier’s car, silently, as he drove the two of you through the streets of Medellín towards Carrillo’s address. It was a Friday–exactly a week from when Carrillo had overheard you talking to Steve, and you were completely floored at how your life had changed that fast. You didn’t regret anything though, not one bit.

You were nervous though. Having one of these men was enough to make you swoon, but both? You weren’t sure what was going to happen. All you knew is that it would be a fantastic night. You just hoped that you could keep up.

A hand on your knee brought you back to the present, and you glanced over to see that Javier was eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

“Relax, cariño,” he ordered, “It’s just us.”

You laughed.

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about,” you said, jokingly. But Javier wasn’t having it.

“Why would that make you nervous?” he asked, turning to face you when you had stopped for a red light.

“You two are my friends and colleagues,” you stated, “I don’t–want to disappoint you. Especially since we will have to go back to work after the weekend.”

Javier shook his head and pressed down harder on the accelerator, hoping that if he got you to Carrillo’s place faster, you’d stop your fatalistic thoughts.

“None of that,” he grumbled, shutting down your line of thinking as quickly as he could, “What happens between us tonight stays between us. That’s it. No pressure or expectations. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting yourself to speak. And thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because you and Javier finally pulled up in front of Carrillo’s house. It was a much larger property than you had expected, with a beautifully-kept lawn and a mango tree just at the front of the house. It was a stunning place to live, and the thought that Carrillo had been staying there alone, with nobody to share it with, for the past several months just left you heartbroken.

Well. That was likely about to change tonight.

“You’re still sure, cariño?” Javier asked, taking your hand in his and staring at your knuckles, “If you’ve changed your mind, I can drive you back now. No questions asked.”

You shook your head.

“I’m completely sure, Javi. Don’t worry,” you assured him, and Javier nodded.

“Bueno,” he mumbled, “Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you walked up the path to Carrillo’s front door and rang the bell. Carrillo answered almost immediately, face relaxing at the sight of you.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place,” he greeted, stepping back to allow the two of you to enter his house.

“I have some wine if you would like,” Carrillo suggested, leading you and Javier into the kitchen after the two of you had kicked off your shoes.

Carrillo walked straight to the fridge and took out what appeared to be a pretty expensive brand of wine, but neither you nor Javier said anything in regards to it. Instead, you both sat down and exchanged a series of fugitive glances at each other.

You thought you needed the wine, the bitter, strong taste of alcohol to run through your veins in order to be able to process the moment in its entirety. But suddenly, as you glared at both Javier and Carrillo, there was no need for anything else. No liquid distraction to be drunk beforehand, no ridiculous and meaningless pleasantries or comfort words. You knew those men. You trusted them with your life every day when you went out there on the streets, and you trusted them just as much now. Their mere presence was sufficient to relax you and ease the tension, although you thought they would both agree that the tension was thicker than you could’ve imagined.

“I trust you both, and I care about you both, so damn much.”

It came out of the blue; you weren’t even sure you thought about it in your mind, and yet you said it nonetheless, standing up. Both of them seemed a little surprised by your impromptu confession, but patiently waited for your continuation, if there was any to begin with.

“What I mean is… why make this harder on ourselves? Why bother with small talk and awkward conversations when we can just… do it, enjoy the night?”

Javier was the first one who smirked. And of course he would, he was probably used to a lot of those moments, or similar ones, and had almost no issue baring it all, you thought. You swore, for a brief, almost too rushed moment, that you saw Carrillo hesitate with saying something and averting his eyes from both you and Javier, but you brushed it off. Instead, he looked tall and mighty at you, as his official position required, and smiled gallantly at you.

“You are the one in charge tonight,” he told you.

Simple, yet effective.

From the moment you heard that sentence, it did something to your ego. It gave you an unexpected boost of confidence, it sparked a desire, a flame so bright and hot you wouldn’t have believed it to be true in any other situation.

You took a few steps closer to Carrillo, all the while having Javier watch the scene unfold from the kitchen entrance. He stood up when you did, out of some long-forgotten courtesy that he didn’t used to care about anymore, and he just knew where it was all headed. He recognized the look in your eyes, the longing on your face. He knew what it meant, how much it must’ve consumed you, and he felt oddly enticed and captivated by it.

Just as swiftly as the night began, Carrillo’s hands rested on your waist while he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he only brought you closer to him; his lips tasted surprisingly sweet, with just a faint tint of nicotine. Your chest was pressed against his, warm clothed skin found yours and you shivered against him. His hands gripped your waist as if saying farewell to them and he slid them up your body. You could feel Peña’s eyes fixed in your bodies, staring at the scene, and when the Colonel broke the kiss to nibble at your neck, you opened your eyes to see him next to you; half-lidded brown deep eyes, an opened bottle of wine in one hand and his lower lip in the other. Your skin was burning, and you had barely been touched.

You smiled at him when Carrillo took your jacket off, Peña smirked and took a sip of wine directly from the bottle, careless about any pleasantries.

Carrillo’s wet tongue latched softly at your pulse point and ripped a low moan out of you, you closed your eyes again when his hands gripped your ass over the fabric of your jeans.

“Colonel, please,” you muttered, sighing as you felt his large hands had fun with your flesh and grip it after hearing the way you called him.

“Words, querida” he just replied, putting some distance between your wet skin and his lips.

“More,” you bit your lip, Carrillo smirked at you and you noticed the way his eyes darkened with desire in front of you. He turned to look at Javier, who was still standing at the kitchen entrance, palming his erection over his jeans.

“Bring that,” Carrillo said, pointing at the bottle, then slid his hand from your ass to the small of your back and guided you towards the staircase.

Between your hazed eyes and the cloud of lust that had begun to invade your mind you looked around Carrillo’s space and wondered how a man like him could live in a place that big. You smiled to yourself when he put his hand on the small of your back and soon enough Peña caught up to you, you felt his ever so imposing presence behind you.

Carrillo opened the door to the bedroom and pushed you softly inside.

You didn’t even have time to take your surroundings in when you felt a pair of warm hands find your hips and a set of lips grazing at your earlobe. Your eyes closed by themselves and the sweet, strong smell of Javier’s cologne invaded your nostrils as he pulled your back flush against his chest.

“Sh–shit,” you let out, half a whisper, half a moan, when you felt Carrillo’s hands roam around your waist.

You were losing yourself between the touch of the two of them, you shivered when Carrillo cupped your breast as Javier nibbled at the skin of your neck, from behind, you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to do whatever–the–fuck he pleased with your neck.

“Mírate, chiquita,” Carrillo whispered, you felt his breath on your lips and when you re-opened your eyes you saw him inches away from your face “you’re already wrecked.”

You felt Javier chuckling against your flushed skin, and you bit your lower lip, bringing a hand to the Colonel’s nape to pull him closer and kiss him again.

One of Javier’s hands found itself under your shirt, his mouth was moving and his other hand pulled softly at your shirt over your shoulder to find more skin to lick and kiss. Carrillo found the hem of your shirt and broke the kiss to look at you, as if asking for permission and reassurance that you wanted what he wanted. Javier watched the silent exchange and smirked against the skin of your shoulder, he gave it a last brush of his mustache and a last kiss before you nodded to the Colonel and he helped you out of the garment.

Carrillo smiled to himself when he saw what you’ve been hiding under it, a black, only-lace bra that showed the shade of your nipples, you bit your lip again when you took in his disheveled figure, his notorious erection under his military green pants that made the pool between your legs grow.

“How are you this fucking beautiful?” Javier muttered behind you, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses behind your ear to your nape.

Your breath hitched when Carrillo kneeled in front of you and you felt your chest heaving with desire when his large fingers dextrely unbuttoned your jeans and his thumbs hooked on the hem. He looked at you again and you nodded for a second time. Javier looked over your shoulder at the Colonel slowly sliding your jeans off your hips then your legs and he left his hands roam around the now naked skin of your torso. Your hands landed on the back of his head, and he took the hint, attacking the skin of your neck once again.

Carrillo threw your jeans away once he helped you out of them and you moaned loudly when his lips grazed against your knee. One of your hands dropped to grab Carrillo’s head as his trail of kisses moved up, up, up until he reached the soft skin where your thigh and your hip joined. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you were sure he could feel it at that point and you didn’t care, for once you let yourself only feel and let all thought out of your mind while you felt two mouths, two men, take care of you.

There was no hesitation from Javier’s side as his fingers gently grazed up your spine, expertly unclasping your bra, taking in the image of the straps loosening on your smooth skin. He was damn near panting at the mere sight, but he had to remind himself that that was only the tip of the iceberg. The moans you were letting escape your mouth as Carrillo pressed gentle kisses on your inner thighs aided him in no way. He felt himself get harder and harder and fought off raging instincts to turn that moment into another one of his one-night stands.

Javier made sure he tasted your skin while he took the straps from both sides between his fingers and slid them off your shoulders, he felt you shivering under his hands and over Horacio’s mouth and you could feel the smirk on your skin, once the bra came off, Javier took your chin and moved your head to face him, he pressed his mouth on yours, his tongue hungry for your scent, invading your cavities and feeling your warmth rush through his body with the speed of light. Everything about your scent was intoxicating and consuming, and ever so addicting that he could barely find it in himself to stop.

But then his calloused hands found your breasts and oh–oh, shit.

That first squeeze, tantalizingly slow and powerful, took you out completely. You gasped, and you weren’t sure if it was Horacio’s warm breath in between your legs or Javier fondling your breasts, but you embraced the overwhelming effect both had on you. Javier squeezed again, and moved around to locate the sweet torture of his mouth onto your nipples, taking one in his mouth whilst his thumb moved over the other one, twisting it in between his fingers as he nibbled at your skin. His tongue left a glistening trail as he peppered kisses in between your breasts, moving up your sternum, collarbones and neck and focusing on one particular spot that seemed to drive you wild. So much so that you reached behind your back to grab a handful of his hair, pull him in closer however you could.

“Lay her down, Peña,” Carrillo cooed, and the man followed suit.

You saw the Colonel untuck his shirt and take it off while Javier kneeled on the bed and helped you lay down on it, the softness of the sheets embraced you and the coldness made you whimper softly.

It was a premiere for him to witness Javier Peña, of all people, being so submissive and attentive, but he had other matters to focus on at the moment. His mouth left your already glistening and plump lips to grab the bottle of wine, your eyes followed him as you felt Carrillo’s hands spread your legs open and kiss the inside of your legs again, Javier came back to the bed and kneeled next to you, his hand gripping the bottle and the other cupping your face, he smiled softly at you and took a sip from the bottle; you moaned when Carrillo’s hands worked to get you out of your lace panties and Javier leaned down to you, the hand that cupped your face moved to your chin and he opened your mouth with his thumb, letting the wine pour from his mouth to yours, the wine was warm and it tasted sweet, when you closed your mouth and swallowed, Javier’s thumb grazed your lips and you heard a hard pant next to you, you turned to see Carrillo’s lusted face, you gave him a soft smile and he all but threw himself to you, kissing your mound, you moaned again and Javier leaned back, bringing the chilled bottle closer to your body, letting the tip of it graze against your warm skin, between the cold sensation and Carrillo’s lips tasting you, you were about to scream, Javier looked at you, smirked and pour some of the wine all over your breasts and abdomen, immediately reaching down on your again to lick the liquid off. A bit of the wine had traveled down your abdomen to your lower belly and found its way into Carrillos mouth, the feeling of the cold wine and their tongues made you growl. You had two pairs of equally sinful and skilled lips teasing and licking deliciously well over your exposed skin, and you had half of mind to grab either one of them and get to business. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so aroused, but it was all a masterful torture and all for a good time. If anyone else was allowed to have their downtime, why shouldn’t you?

It was somewhat futile to even attempt to please either one of the men in return; their own pleasure seemed to be revolving around yours and they were both doing such an incredible job out of it that you had a hard time trying to keep track of where did the waves of pleasure come from anymore. It was all one big tsunami of feelings, from overstimulation to lust and appreciation and love in some form.

Carrillo continued his ministrations while Javier licked the remains of the wine from your body, his tongue traveled to your sternum and he took a nipple on his mouth ever so briefly, then he stood up and quickly undressed, not bothering to be cool about it, he just threw his clothes to the floor while he looked at Horacio have the time of his life between your legs, you let out soft moans and whispers and while Javier took off his jeans he saw your hand grip Carrillo’s hair as your hips hatched against the Colonel’s face. You felt his tongue flicking your clit and he pushed a thick finger inside you, curling it around, building you up and throwing you off the cliff with the same force he had put you there. You came on his mouth with his name on yours.

As you laid on the bed, legs spread for Carrillo as he helped you ride off your orgasm, Javier kneeled back on the bed next to your face, his hand snaked its way around your neck, gently grabbing both sides and helping you take his erection in your mouth, which you were more than happy to do. You could tell he was somewhat tensed: he was doing his absolute best to control his motions and to keep it at a normal rhythm, but the more you involuntarily groaned as Carrillo began to glide his tongue across your slit once again, building up your second climax, the more Javier was slowly losing bits and pieces of himself. Within seconds, you could just tell you weren’t gonna last long, but neither would Javier as he picked up the face and jerked his hips forward more and more, thus obliging you to take more of him in. You couldn’t explain it, nor find any logic behind the action itself, but you swore you felt his release in Javier’s impatient thrusts and, sure enough, mere seconds later, he finally came, grunting as ropes of his seed dripped down your jaw.

Your moans returned when Carrillo added two fingers to his mouthy torture over your clit, and you felt like you could explode. Not long after that all-too familiar gut feeling, that almost persistent desire to burn, you came for a second time, eager to jerk your hips forward and meet as much as you could of Carrillo’s tongue, but this time, the man’s grip over your thighs was impossible to break. He held you in place ever so expertly and ate you out like you were his favorite five course meal, soaking up every ounce of juice that you provided him with.

You temporarily lost feeling in your arms as you tried to raise them to make at least Javier pay attention, but words also failed to leave your abused mouth.

“Que buena chica,” Carrillo said from somewhere down below. (What a good girl.)

Your brain didn’t register what he said properly. All you could feel was a fire so intense, so vivid, you nearly saw stars. And something told you that was only the beginning.

And you were proven right.

In the momentary lack of physical touch, you thought about the moment itself, having two of the strongest, most desirable men eager to please you–simultaneously, might you add–and the more you thought about it, the more it threw you off completely. Why? You weren’t really sure. Perhaps it was the idea in the back of your mind that you wouldn’t have thought yourself capable of that. Or them, really. The activity hadn’t been exactly on your to-do list over the past few years and yet now, you couldn’t have thought of a better way to figure out your feelings for them, and to spare time.

The freshly acquired ecstasy was not only enthralling, but efficient as well.

After your second orgasm at Horacio’s ministrations you saw him between your lusted, narrowed eyes, undress completely, Javier was next to you, trailing his fingers up and down your wet torso–wet with wine and his saliva, what a fucking thought– while the both of you saw Carrillo take the remains of his clothes off and took in his lean figure, Javier smirked when he saw him whole and thought to himself the things he would do to the man if he had the time.

Javier wrapped his arms around your waist and helped you roll over to the side to face him, licking his bottom lip in the process and made sure you watched as he did so. He had been eyeing you up and down the entire day, whether clothed or not, and every glance he threw you, ever so dark and desirable, filled with subtext and desire, made you weaker and weaker, just like Carrillo’s touches were.

You reached his face and took his lips in yours, his tongue slid inside your mouth and as he explored the insides and his hand grabbed fistfuls of your ass, you felt the bed shifting behind you, and another hand snaked from behind and found your breast, you were being pressed against and between two bodies and the wam of them was driving you insane, when Carrillo’s fingers played with your nipple you bucked your hips forward and you felt Javier’s erection graze at your lower belly. Javier moved his hand from your ass to your thigh and then he let it slide to your pussy, you bucked your hips backwards and you felt Carrillo’s erection graze at your ass.

“How are you still this wet, bonita?” Javier asked, while his fingers found themselves between your lips.

“Don’t you know the answer by now, Javi?” you muttered, feeling the way Carrillo’s mouth found your shoulders.

You glanced at him and Carrillo the same way Javier looked at you and you understood in an instant why he always preferred to be that way. It was enticing, addicting and sinful, just the way he was.

And by the looks of it, Colonel Horacio Carrillo was no saint either.

“How do you want this to go, chiquita?” Horacio asked behind you as you moved your leg up to allow Javier’s fingers to find a way inside you.

You sighed. Why was he asking you that question when you weren’t even sure something like this would happen? For a brief, brief second you wanted to hide, just grab your clothes and hide. But you found yourself sandwiched between the men that you most desired and you just couldn’t waste this opportunity for the life of you.

So you rummaged around your deepest, filthiest fantasies you’ve had when everything had just been a sinful dream, a product of your lascive thoughts giving into what you catalogued as your darkest secrets and desires and you found one you couldn’t stop think about after it had given you a stars–behind–the–eyes orgasm.

“I want both,” you muttered, feeling the way both men groaned at your sides, “both inside me, please.”

“You sure?” Javier asked, pulling out his fingers from your cunt and looking at the way they glistened, you nodded.

“Words, chiquita,” Horacio said and you turned to see him, he leaned down and stole a short, deep kiss.

“I’m a hundred percent sure,” you murmured against the Colonel’s lips.

“Let’s get you ready, then,” Javier whispered on your neck and you sighed when his fingers slid back into your slit, you closed your eyes when Horacio played your nipples around his fingers and then his hand roamed down your body, finding their way to your pussy.

“Déjame entrar,” Horacio said under his breath, Javier stopped moving his fingers inside you and you squeezed your eyes tighter when Carrillo slid two more fingers inside your cunt.

“Fu–fuck, fuck,” you gasped, Javier let open mouthed kisses around your face and the skin of your neck within reach while your walls tightened around their thick fingers.

“You okay?” Javier asked and you nodded a few times before your body relaxed and got used to the intrusion.

“Mo–move,” you pleaded, feeling Horacio’s mouth nibbling at your shoulder and your neck.

Javier and Horacio moved their fingers at the same time inside you, looking at each other as if marking a dancing pace. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as they moved in and out and curled their fingers in all directions inside you, making you moan and whimper and open up more for them as they somehow found an identical pace to torture you with.

“Eso, eso nena, lo estás haciendo muy bien,” Carrillo praised behind you, feeling the way your walls were giving into the attention and dilating around their fingers (That’s it baby, you’re doing great)

“Más,” you pleaded, rolling your hips against their hands “Más, más,”

They grinned at each other, Javier’s eyes landed on your face and took in the way your features quirked in pure pleasure. Their fingers moving at the same time, pacing in and out faster. Javier’s mouth landed on your shoulder and Carrillo only took in the lewd noise his and Javier’s fingers were making as they pulled in and out at a murdering pace.

“Oh, sh–shit,” you bit your lip and tried to hide your face inside the crook of Javier’s neck but Horacio pulled you away with his other hand.

“We wanna hear you, querida.” he whispered behind your ear, you shivered again at the feeling of his warm breath and then it became too much, their fingers were covered in your arousal as you spread your legs impossibly wider as your throat began growling and your hands landed on both of them, digging your nails on their flesh. Javier hissed against your shoulder and Carrillo bit the skin of your mouth, both of them throwing you together from the cliff and your body spasmed between them.

“Oh my god, oh shit, fuck!” you screamed between their bodies and they slowed their pace to help you ride down your climax “please, please, fuck me, please,” you let out, almost desperately, eager to feel the same with them inside you. They slid their fingers out of you and you shivered again.

Your body was already a mess, after three powerful orgasms you were panting for air, the only thing you wanted was them inside you, you wanted to feel every ridge and every vein of them, you wanted; you needed to cum around them both.

“What is taking you so long?” you opened your eyes, quite frustrated at the lack of attention to your bodies, but the sight that you took in was otherworldly.

Carrillo had his fingers, his covered–in–your–arousal fingers inside Javier’s mouth.

“Fuck,” you let out, dropping your head on the mattress, looking at the way Javier grabbed Horacio’s wrist to keep his hand on his mouth and lick them clean of you while Horacio’s deep gaze took Javier in with a smirk adorning his face.

Horacio pulled his fingers out with a soft pop and they both looked at you, panting and brushing a nipple with your fingers.

“Next time you’ll have to put on a show for me,” you teased.

“You’re ready?” Javier asked, leaning down to kiss your temple, you looked at Carrillo and smiled at him as he licked his fingers.

“Very,” you replied, softly, your voice was already hoarse because of the moaning and screaming they had pulled out of you, they got comfortable on each of your side and you took a deep breath when Horacio lifted your leg and hooked it on his hip.

Javier was the first one to tease your entrance with the dripping head of his cock, when you felt it sliding up and down your slit you gasped and as he pushed himself inside you you grabbed his arm and licked any part of his skin available for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried out softly.

Javier was having a hard time staying still when your walls were warm and wet around him, his hands roamed around your body as Carrillo lined himself with you and him as well and then he pushed.

“Holy fucking shit,” you had close your eyes at the feeling of Horacio making his way inside of you, you breathed and panted and tried so hard to relaxe but they were thicker than their fingers and your pussy was clenching already around them. Javier took your hand and you squeezed his as both of them bottomed up inside you.

Horacio put his hands over the entanglement of yours and Javi’s and the three of you gasped and panted until your body stopped squirming between them and your walls stopped closing themselves at the feeling of two thick cocks making their way inside.

Javier had to close his eyes as well when he felt how your cunt clenched him tight closer to Horacio and he felt himself throb inside you, when he opened his eyes he saw you, open mouthed gasps leaving your body as it got used to being that full, and then his eyes traveled to Horacio, that buried himself in the crook of your neck, he supposed he was feeling the same way as him, trapped in a oh–so–tight hole with him.

“Move, move, move,” you all but begged, the initial sting of being filled like that disappearing and being replaced with the darkest, deepest, hottest desire you had ever felt, “fu–fucking move already!”

Horacio smirked against the skin of your neck at your demand and moved slightly to look at Javier, who nodded once and then, murdering pleasure; Javier pulled out and as he was thrusting slowly back in, Horacio pulled out and moved in as Javier moved out and you gasped and the air in your lungs left you for the time being as your cunt was filled with the two men you wanted the most.

It was pleasure delivered in a delicious swing of two hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth into you, making you impossibly wetter, incredibly hornier, and way too lost in the haze to even care about anything else.

The way that they were fucking you was shameless, the noises were lewd and your moans invaded the room as soon as they picked up the pace and kept driving into you at the same pace but in different directions.

Four hands caressed your body, two sets of lips nibbled at your skin, two tongues tasted the salty sheet of sweat that had covered your body, two thick cocks used your body at their will, making you want to explode; it was an eager combination of feelings and sensations pulled out of the most sensual, lechery, degenerated dreams you could ever had.

“Harder, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you panted out, gripping any skin and limb your hands could find. Your hips started rolling and rolling and rolling with them as they thrusted and pounded inside you.

“Mierda,” Horacio gasped behind you, biting at your skin, making you whimper.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fu–fucking good, baby,” Javier cried out as your pussy clenched around them and you absentmindedly rolled your hips harder.

It was an entanglement of limbs and wet skin, mouths clashing against skin, hands gripping and grabbing available flesh, a swing of bodies and a symphony of licks, kisses, hums, gasps, pants, begs and praises.

“Shit, sh–shit,” you panted harder and clawed at Javier’s arm when you felt the well-familiar tug on your belly of an incoming orgasm, you hummed and moaned and you felt lips in your ear, licking and nibbling at your earlobe, “I’m so close, más,”

Javier gritted his teeth when you demanded more and angled his hips to pound inside harder, Horacio followed his lead, dropping his hand on Javier’s shoulder for leverage. Carrillo’s touch burned in Javier’s skin and he felt his body stiffen with the feeling of his second release.

“Por dios, querida, me estás matando.” Horacio cried out behind you, feeling as well his body falling from the cliff. (My god, you’re killing me)

Javier’s free hand slid through your wet, glistening skin and his finger circled your clit slowly, you screamed his name, your legs buckled and your entire body squirmed with the sea of sensations your body was feeling and flooding with.

“Cum inside me, please, please,” you panted again, feeling the way your legs started to shake as both of their thrust became erratic and Javier’s finger kept circling around your bundle of nerves you exploded around them, gushing out and soaking them as your orgasm made you scream both their names.

“Mierda, querida, mírate,” Horacio grunted before he gave into the lustfulness of it all and came inside you and around Javier.

Once Javi felt the warmness of Carrillo’s release and the way you soaked both of them and his hand, he locked his hips with yours and spilled himself inside as well, gasping out your name.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” you let out as a sigh, feeling your legs tremble with the strength of your climax.

The three of you stayed like that, joined, for a while. As your bodies relaxed you finally opened your eyes and saw the way Horacio’s hand was resting on Javier’s shoulder, wrapping you as well between them. Both of them breathing heavily, eyes closed, recovering from whatever the hell you had done was called. You sighed and smiled to yourself. If it weren’t for the four orgasms you had and the way your cunt was throbbing after the abuse and dripping with their seed, you wouldn’t believe it was real at all.

“How was that, cariño?” Javier asked, grazing a hand up and down your arm.

“That was–magnificent,” you gushed, not sure how else to describe that positively euphoric experience, “I think–you two have worn me out.”

Horacio chuckled and moved your head to press a kiss to your forehead, and shifted to allow all three of you to lie somewhat comfortably under the covers. You whined when they pulled out of you, solely because at the loss of them, you felt empty.

“Rest now, querida, we’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered into your hair, and that was all the permission you needed.

“We should–” you brought a hand to your mouth to cover a massive yawn, “–do this again sometime.”

After that, it didn’t take long before you had succumbed to the tempting pull of sleep. Horacio sighed and glanced over your shoulder at Javier, who looked rather worn out himself. Tenderly, Horacio reached over and brushed aside a small strand of hair that had fallen in Javi’s face.

“So, same time next week, then?” Horacio asked, giving Javier a lazy smirk, which was returned in kind.

“Yeah,” Javier mumbled, turning over to drape his arm around your way and bury his face in your neck.

“Absolutely.”

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