#another day another drabble that turns into a oneshot despite my best efforts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nickfowlerrr · 10 months

Text

the truth is this

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (friends to lovers)

warnings: fluff, kissing, very slightly edging on heavy petting, mention of an erection, no smut but still 18+ only.

words: 2.9k

notes: loosely based on these prompts: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. and "is that really all 'A' is to you?" thank you so much to @anthony-sharma for the request! thank you in advance for reading and as always, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated!

"So you're telling me you didn't notice the way she was looking at you just now?" Sam asked skeptically.

"I'm telling you I have no idea what you're talking about," Bucky rebuffed, his brows furrowing in agitation.

"Well I do know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you and her finally pulling your heads out of your asses and realizing you like each other."

"No shit we like each other, Sam. She's one of my best friends."

"Is that really all she is to you?" he questioned pointedly.

Bucky stopped in his retreat as he took in Sam's words. He instantly knew his answer, but still told himself had to think about it. Because although his thoughts were flowing with all of the things you were to him, all things that went way beyond the scope of just friendship, he was still too scared to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else.

Sam watched as Bucky swallowed hard, his jaw tightening and brows furrowed even more. It looked as if he was blinking away his thoughts when he finally looked back at Sam. An annoyed look taking over his features once again. He didn't say anything, just grumbled in response before he continued out of the room.

For nearly three hours after the little confrontation he had with Sam, Bucky raged with himself in the privacy of his own room. His head was swirling and he could barely keep track of what part of him was winning the argument until a knock came on his door.

Not just any knock, your knock. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was expecting you, he had just lost track of time with the internal struggle he had been trying to sort out.

Something changed, though, when he heard you. All thoughts of not acknowledging his feelings, in part to not wreck what he already had with you, went right out the window.. kinda.

He could accept the true depth of his feelings for you, but he'd be damned if he spoke them aloud until he knew that there'd be no shot at hurting your friendship if you didn't feel the same.

Sam's words came back to him as he considered that you didn't. The way she looked at you...

How had you looked at him? Were all the signs there and he was just blind to them? Well, he'd be sure to pay close attention tonight. See if he could see what Sam saw.

He got to the door and opened it for you, greeting you with a smile as you walked into his room and instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. When you pulled back ever so slightly, peering up at him with sparkling eyes, Bucky swore he felt himself get weak in the knees.

Your smile was the most beautiful thing to him. He'd do anything to get one out of you, though he really didn't have to try all that hard. Your usually stoic demeanor, or resting bitch face as Kate had called it, was rarely ever broken; but as the rest of the team noticed long ago, Bucky seemed to have a knack for breaking it quite easily.

It was like you just couldn't help your smile when he was around. You'd always get more talkative and seemed a lot more approachable than when you were alone. It wasn't like you were a mean person, far from it, you just had a bit of an intimidating presence most of the time. You were a quiet person and weren't typically the most open. It wasn't something you put on, it was just your natural disposition. One of the reasons you and Bucky had gotten so close so quickly was because he was one of the only people to not have been put off by your introversion; he wasn't hesitant to talk to you, in fact, the moment he had seen you, he just had this feeling that you and him would get along swell. And he was right.

He'd gone up to you and introduced himself, and you gave him your name with a small smile in return. You and Bucky had a lot in common and though it took you a little while, you soon found yourself more comfortable around Bucky than you had been with anyone else...ever.

You guys could talk for ages and never bore, or you could sit in each other's silence comfortably for hours on end, not needing anything other than each other's company.

Neither of you realized how close you had gotten or how you appeared inseparable until it started getting pointed out by everyone else.

Repeatedly.

Over and over again.

Whether it was playful jokes at your mutual expense during meetings, or pestering whispers in your ears by your friends trying to bring your attentions to what everyone else could already see, to what everyone had seen from the very start of your and Bucky's friendship: That it was so definitely more than just friendship.

He wasn't sure what it was about Sam's comments this time that finally had him taking it seriously. Maybe it was because he felt it too. And truthfully, he always had, but maybe he just couldn't keep pushing the thoughts away. Maybe... maybe it was because he knew deep down, the love he felt for you was way more than just platonic. Maybe he finally realized that he was well and truly in love with you, and maybe he had a bit of hope burning bright that you felt the same way.

Bucky collects himself as he gazes into your eyes, feeling like if he stares too long he'll lose himself to you completely. But he really doesn't think he'd mind one bit. You pretty much have him already.

"So," you breathe as you begrudgingly pull away from his warmth, "did you decide? Movie or tv show?" you ask as you step past him further into his room.

He shuts his door before turning and following you to the kitchenette where you easily find the stash of candy Bucky keeps for your "movie" nights.

"Uhhh, you pick," he says as you pass him once again, heading to the couch and throwing your stockpile of sweets on the coffee table before you as you get comfortable.

"Okay," you agree, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the titles to find something at least halfway decent to put on.

Your eyes flick over to Bucky and you realize he's still wearing the clothes he had on earlier while you're in your pajamas, like you always are on movie night.

"Why are your clothes still on?" you ask as you peer up at him from your spot on the couch.

Bucky's breath catches in his throat as his heart nearly stops beating entirely, heat rising to his cheeks. In the same moment your eyes widen as you hear yourself and your breath stutters for just a second. Why did you say it like that? you chide yourself. Wishful thinking, some other part of your brain snickers. You push the thought away. Inappropriate.

"Huh?" Bucky asks, though he heard you full well.

"I mean, you're not in your pajamas," you clarify.

"Right, yeah, I uh, I was a bit distracted before you got here," he admits as he absentmindedly rubs the back of his neck. "I'm gonna change, you put something on. I'll be right back."

Bucky changes his clothes quickly and returns to you just as you find something to put on.

You watch him enter the room and laugh as you note that you're kinda matching now. You're both in gray sweats and as you wear a black long sleeve v-neck, Bucky has on a short sleeve v-neck in the same color.

Bucky notices as you do, "I swear this wasn't on purpose," he chuckles as he settles down next to you.

You titter as you start the movie and adjust in your seat to get more comfortable. And by more comfortable, you really just meaning scooting over to be closer to Bucky.

Bucky watches you as you move to be closer to him, smiling to himself as he realizes you're trying to be cool about it, trying to not make it too obvious. It's cute, but he really doesn't mind. In fact, the closer you are the happier he is. Your thigh brushes his as you keep a bit of space between your upper body and his chest.

Bucky fights off the urge to grab your legs and pull them into his lap but he can't fight the urge he has to pull you in closer.

His arm comes around your right side as he pulls you into him. You look up at him in a bit of surprise, but he doesn't return your gaze, he keeps his eyes set on the screen before him.

You blink in wonder before you look back at the screen too. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at his unexpected action and settle into his hold, scootching closer as you recline against him and let his hand rest on the curve of your waist meeting your hip.

You feel like you’d been dropping hint after hint, purposefully, these past two weeks after a long night of talking with Sam and Nat when you were finally able to put a name to your feelings; the realization you had entirely fallen for your best friend was maybe a bit pulled out of you by them but it was true nonetheless.

You’d stopped holding yourself back the way you normally did when it came to touches and hugs lately, hoping maybe Bucky would get the hint and you wouldn’t have to say it outright.. at least not first.

Admittedly, you could feel the tiniest bit of awkwardness - or maybe tension was the better word, between you and him at the moment. Not entirely unpleasant, but still it was there. At least it had been for a minute. But soon as Bucky settled his hand on your hip, that all faded as soon as it appeared. It was completely comfortable, it felt right, being this close to him. Though, truthfully, it always felt right when Bucky around.

As you fought your smile and Bucky’s hand gently squeezed your hip unconsciously, your heart warmed. Maybe he was finally picking up on what you were trying to do and hopefully the reason why.

Sam and Nat had been sure to let you know it was obvious that he felt the same for you, but still you were nervous to come right out with it.

Slow and steady, you remind yourself. No need to rush things anyway. You’d rather him come to the same realization you had on his own time, not yours.

But god, you hoped he really felt the same.

Bucky takes a peek down at you once he feels your eyes are off of him. He smiles to himself at how perfect this is. How comfortable you both are with the more intimate touches, despite neither of you bringing it up. It just feels natural.

So natural, he isn't really thinking much when he leans down and places a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he catches himself doing it, he zeros in on your reaction to it. It's not like he hadn't done it before, but any time he had it was usually in parting, as customary for you guys as a hug.

This was clearly more intimate. A show of affection he wanted to give you, no other reason than that.

He admires the soft fluttering of your lashes and the way you lean further into him, letting your head rest on his chest.

For half a second, he sees you worry you've made a mistake as he pulls his arm from around you but when he gently takes hold of your chin and turns you to face him, time seems to stand still as you gaze at one another.

You wait with bated breath as you search his bright eyes that are gleaming down at you. He can hear the change in the rhythm of your heartbeat and as he lets his eyes flit to your lips, he swears he hears the sharp intake of air you breathe as your eyes fall to his own lips before returning to his stare.

The next thing he knows, Bucky is holding your gorgeous face in his hands before he leans in closer and takes your lips in his. It's slow and gentle as he takes his time savoring your first kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers your hands on his as you return the kiss, and it quickly turns a bit more fervent. Like you've both been waiting forever for this exact moment to happen.

You pull your legs up onto the couch as you turn and move closer to Bucky. You're not thinking as you straddle his lap, the kiss only growing deeper and more intent with each second that passes.

Your hands leave Bucky's as you move them to stabilize yourself without full on sitting in his lap, one hand behind his neck and the other on the couch behind him. Bucky's own hands find their place on your hips before he pulls you down, forcing you down on his lap.

You moan into his mouth as he grabs a handful of your ass and you feel him growing slightly beneath you.

You have to break the kiss to breathe, both of you panting heavily as you press your forehead to his, nose to nose as you breathe one another in. You can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you laugh breathily, gripping his neck as you shake your head in disbelief.

You place a soft kiss to his lips once more as he holds you to him.

"Sorry," Bucky begins, though he looks to be the furthest thing from it as he smiles that charming smile of his. "I just.. I think I've wanted to do that for a while now. It just felt right."

"You don't have to apologize," you smile softly in turn as you play with the stray hairs curled at the nape of his neck. "I think I've wanted you to do that for a while now. And it did," you breathe with a nod, "it definitely felt right."

"I wanna do more of this," he murmurs against your lips after he places another kiss to yours.

"Me too," you agree with a peck of your own. "I think I wanna make out with you," you muse.

One side of his mouth slants up in a smirk as his hands run up your sides, "I think I want you to make out with me, too," he says, amused before going in for another kiss. You both smile into it and you swear your heart is near bursting as your tummy flutters in your happiness.

"There's something I need to tell you first," he says seriously as he parts just slightly from you.

His hands rubbing up and down your back keep you from worrying as he effortlessly soothes you.

He maintains eye contact as you wait for him to continue.

"I think, - no, I know," he corrects himself. "I love you," he breathes your name as part of his confession.

You move your hand from the couch and gently hold his stubbly cheek instead, thumb rubbing over the skin of his cheek softly.

You smile again, holding his eye as you lean into him before you kiss him slow and deep, trying to get all of the things you're feeling across to him, but most namely, the main one. The love.

You part from him gently as he follows you, mindlessly chasing your lips before catching himself.

He blinks up at you as you perch over him slightly.

"I love you, too, Buck," you nearly whisper as you caress his cheek. "This doesn't change anything, ya know," you add.

He furrows his brow in slight confusion at your words.

You laugh lightly at his expression before continuing, "You're still my best friend. Nothing's gonna change that."

"Wouldn't expect it to," he smiles.

It's quiet between you for a moment before you speak again.

"Promise," you urge softly.

"Promise?"

"Promise nothing's gonna change that," you say as you look down at his chest, moving your idle hand to play with the chain you find there.

"I promise, hey" he says sincerely as he puts two fingers under your chin and has you meet his eye once more, "I promise."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't," he reassures you before suddenly turning you both and flipping you on your back as he leans over you. You gaze up at him a little breathless as you titter.

"Okay," you whisper your trust, your arms reaching up to wrap around his thick neck, pulling him down closer to you.

"Okay," he echos before brushing his lips against yours once more.

The movie is long forgotten as you and Bucky spend the rest of the night completely wrapped up in one another. Talking, touching, just being with each other. The way you were always meant to. It was comfortable, easy. And you couldn't ask for more as you felt entirely whole and at peace in his strong arms promising to never let you go.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #best friend!bucky x reader #friends to lovers #another day another drabble that turns into a oneshot despite my best efforts #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic

1K notes · View notes

chasing-classics · 3 years

Text

It Takes A Man- Ray Diaz x Reader (2)

Pairing: Ray Diaz x Reader

Warning(s): Language, angsty feels, mentions of cheating, SMUT

Summary: In the aftermath of your night with Ray, you struggle to move on from the Diaz men, but find difficulty in forgetting the man in question. What happens when you reunite?

A/N: This will not be a full-length story, I think it’ll just be a fun little miniseries that I’ll work on between drabbles and oneshots, but so many of you loved the first part that I couldn’t help but post the sequel earlier than anticipated. Enjoy, my little deviants!

Part 1

You huffed, barely making it through your front door before the handfuls of grocery bags collapsed at your feet. You cringed, shaking your head upwards at the thought of how all the fresh fruit you just bought at the corner bodega was now bruised. Shuffling your feet, you prodded the cans of various sauces and whatnot out of your way, casually closing the front door with your foot and tossed your purse on the nearby sofa.

Your new apartment had finally been put together in your hasty move from the Diaz household. The drive was not so bad, it was long enough to put distance between Oscar and yourself so that you two could avoid any awkward/angry confrontations on the street. But you were relieved, as was Cesar, that it was no more than a 15-minute drive, 25-minute to half hour walk in case the youngest Diaz brother and his friends ever wished to stop by. The pang in your chest whenever your thoughts drifted towards Cesar was still an entirely fresh wound. The way he yelled and cried in your arms the night he came home still made your e/c eyes well up with tears. You would never forgive yourself for the role you played in the separation. Oscar was by no means innocent; his actions were unforgiveable. He cheated on you more times than you would ever care to admit. He made a fool out of the one person who held him down, the one constant in his life. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t still bitter.

Cesar knew the breakup was looming, in the months leading up to that fateful night you and Oscar had gone for each other’s throats. Initially he only left the house to take care of ‘’Santo business’’ but the smell of cheap perfume contradicted that immediately. Despite your valiant efforts, Cesar walked in on you once or twice just crying your eyes out until they became so painfully puffy. History certainly repeated itself in the Diaz house. The only difference was that you managed to get out in, mentally exhausted but physically fine, while his mother had overdosed not two years after Ray was locked up. Cesar partially felt betrayed by everyone involved. Oscar, Ray, and even you. But Oscar had been the real target of Cesar’s anger and hurt. Had Oscar not made Cesar join the Santos, Cesar would’ve had a normal life and possible ticket outside of Freeridge. Had Oscar not been a complete jerk to you, Cesar could’ve had some resemblance of a family left. He still had you, he still had Oscar. But it was never going to be the same.

That said, what you and Ray had done was anything but innocent. ‘’Fuck,’’ you huffed, tossing your keys in the dish by the entryway. As much as you probably should’ve forgotten all about that night. As much as you tried to dismiss the reminiscing, you found yourself in a losing battle. About the way Ray had felt filling you. The drag and pull movements of his manhood along your velvety walls. You involuntarily shivered and cursed yourself as your mind clouded over in a haze of lust.

‘’No. . .no, we aren’t going back there,’’ you chided, working to tidy up the place. ‘No matter how much I may long to. . .’ you mentally noted as your actions quickened in a pathetic attempt to block the mental image of Ray hovering over you, filling your tightness. The familiar pitter patter of butterflies in your abdomen alerted you of your arousal. The blush that steadily spread across your cheeks did the same.

Ray and you had seldom spoken in the nearly 40 days it took for you to find an apartment in a safe part of Freeridge (upon Oscar’s insistence, to your shock) and for you to gather your belongings and move out (thanks to the efforts of Sad Eyes and Tito, also upon Oscar’s insistence and your shock). When you had said a quick goodbye to your ex of five years and the boy you practically raised since he was a small fourth grader, the longing look in Ray’s eyes was not lost on you. Whereas Cesar walked you to your car, Oscar hung back on the porch trying his best to seem unbothered, Ray leaned against the side gate of the house. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips as he made sure to stay out of Oscar’s line of vision. You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was watching you. To know that look in his eyes. You had the same look as you drove way, only concealing it as to avoid another fist fight between Oscar and his father.

The apartment itself was nice and homey. Your job in real estate, selling mostly houses in Brentwood, made sure that you could afford nicer furniture, a stocked fridge, and lunch money for Cesar. He would alternate, opting to camp out on your charcoal gray couch while Oscar enjoyed the benefits of a newly single life back home. You feigned ignorance or uncaringness whenever Cesar showed up late at night with a sympathetic look in his deep brown eyes, but every time you thought about the girls drifting in and out of the only home you had truly known the past five years, your heart clenched in your throat.

Sad Eyes had been another figure who graced your doorstep every now and then. He insisted it was because of the friendship you and he had maintained since high school, but something told you he was keeping tabs on you. The one, single one night stand you had partaken in a few nights ago just so happened to be cut short (too short) when Sad Eyes conveniently began pounding on the door. The situation had Oscar’s hypocritical jealous antics written all over it. Nonetheless, Jose was a good friend of yours’ and he along with Tito and the other Santos were a big help in setting up the place to your liking.

As you drifted around the entertainment area, around the balcony, and around the kitchen watering your various plants, your brows furrowed. The one person who hadn’t really visited you, aside from Oscar of course, was the one man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your night with Ray was far too passionate, or so you thought, to be just a one-time thing. As sick and twisted it might be, as horrible of a person that made you, you couldn’t help but yearn to have another night with the Diaz patriarch. Subconsciously, your hand drifted to your collarbone, sighing through your nose as visions of his strong, rough hands exploring your flesh resonated within you. Part of you shrunk back into your shell, your subconscious telling you that Oscar had clearly taken after his father when it came to breaking hearts. That Ray probably hadn’t been with a woman since being released from prison. That you were just an easy fix, a convenience for him in the form of an insecure and emotionally exhausted hyna. He didn’t see you anything other than a tight hole to keep his dick warm. You bit your lip, hands clutching the kitchen counter until your knuckles turned nearly pale.

But the other part of you felt in your bones that it was not just an easy fix. That, yes lust fueled and spurred his actions, but there was something about the way he looked at you as you drove away from the house. Something that screamed ‘’more.’’ An enchanting, debauching look. Interest, maybe, but still more all the same. More.

Your fingers danced down the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until your fingertips made contact with the top of your leggings. Admittedly, you had forgone wearing underwear this particular day, out of laziness, but you were certainly not complaining as your fingers met the wetness of your tight folds. An airy sigh escaped your lips, eyes closed as those fingers danced along your sensitive folds like little ballerinas.

Your other hand began kneading your still clothed breasts, becoming rougher in an attempt to mirror the way Ray had done. Whether it was the forbidden, sinful nature of that night or not, no other man, not even Oscar had made you feel so erotic the way Ray Diaz had. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your moans steadily flowed past your lips like a gentle choir. The middle finger curled in the depths of your core, your index finger gently rolling the sensitive pearl above. The faster your digits worked, the easier it became to imagine Ray’s touch. The smell of his shampoo with the slight musk of his sweat from working out in the front lawn. The way he grunted every time he slammed into your core. The way his eyes went nearly black from pure lust and primal desire when he looked over your quivering form.

‘’R-Ray,’’ you whimpered to yourself, panting as your fingers worked diligently.

‘’Don’t stop, nena.’’

Your eyes flew wide open, your mouth following suit as the man of the hour stood in your front door, learning against the frame. That infamous, lopsided Diaz smirk left no room to question where his boys got it from.

‘’Don’t stop on my account,’’ he repeated, uncomfortably shifting his weight to his other leg, a very noticeable bulge catching your attention immediately. You gulped.

‘’How the f-fuc. . .wha. . .why?’’ you screeched, hand quickly retreating from your pulsing, needy pussy much to your discomfort. You were convinced that he could feel the heat of your blush from across the room.

‘’The front door was unlocked. I know it’s a safer neighborhood, but you still need to-‘’

‘’I meant why the hell are you here?’’ you didn’t mean to sound as bitchy as it had came out, but you were slightly jilted from the way he had ignored you the pas several weeks.

No calls. No texts. No surprise visits. Until now.

The smirk faded from his handsome face, becoming more serious although his eyes showed the slightest hint of a mix of shame and sorrow.

‘’Y/n,’’ he sighed, eyes turning to look down at the floor. It was amazing how, for a split second, the father of two and former Santos member had morphed into a nervous young man. You could almost pinpoint what he looked like younger.

You stilled, heart still racing violently in your chest. He had rarely called you by your name before. Even before you two had sex, it had always been ‘’nena’’ or ‘’mamacita.’’ In fact, you were sure he only used your name once. When he came inside you and sealed your fate. You suppressed a shiver, but Ray quickly caught the effect he still had on you. He regained some of his courage, standing up straight. Your eyes quickly surveyed the way his muscles automatically flexed as his arms folded up and crossed his chest. Damn him.

‘’I’m sorry I haven’t called or visited. . .I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything to do with me considering. . .,’’ his thoughts trailed off, not wanting to discuss the way Oscar had blown up after catching you. One thing you admired about Oscar, that despite his temper he never laid a hand on you. He would rage and toss some furniture in the opposite direction and yell like a madman. But his rage was mostly directed at Ray that night.

‘’We need to talk to you, hermano,’’ Oscar’s deep voice cut the silence as you resisted the urge to glare at the Santos’ leader.

‘’Okayyy?’’ Cesar offered an awkward smile, sitting at the dinner table. The same dinner table that just moments prior had been flung on its’ side as Oscar raged throughout the house. You had barely tossed the scattered food into the trash can before Cesar walked in.

Ray cleared his throat and retreated to the side door of the house, probably smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves as the ‘’adults’’ had their talk.

‘’Cesar,’’ you started, reaching across the table to gently grasp his hand. When had he gotten so big? You never once tried to be the mother he had lost to drugs as a five-year-old. You never took away the authority figure that was forcibly bestowed onto Oscar. You were just Y/n; his brother’s girlfriend. But you knew you were the closest thing Cesar ever had to a mother/motherly figure. And you had fucked it all up.

‘’What’s going on?’’ his thick brows knotted in confusion. You hesitantly glanced at Oscar, him biting back a glare towards you as he sighed.

‘’Y/n is moving out,’’ he mumbled and if you didn’t know Oscar any better, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

‘’Wait.. . what?’’ it broke your heart hearing the confusion and panic in Cesar’s voice.

‘’Cesar, it’s ok. I’ll still be here whenever you need me. It’s just,’’ you trailed off, your own voice wavering as you tried to muster up the best way to explain things.

‘’No it’s not ‘ok.’ Why are you leaving us? Leaving me?’’ Cesar’s voice steadily rose, yanking his hand away from you. The gesture made you wince.

‘’Cesar,’’ Oscar’s tone slowly shifted to that of Spooky.

‘’No! Tell me why she’s leaving. Why is she really leaving!’’ Cesar stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair to the floor. Somewhere outside Ray coughed on a nicotine coated cloud. The room filled with uncomfortable silence.

‘’Cesar. Sometimes, people just fall out of love. Things happen. Life happens. Sometimes even adults make really shitty decisions and they change on each other,’’ your voice remained soft as you sadly looked up at the boy you helped raise. You resisted the urge to look at Oscar’s gutted expression, knowing that if you did you would surely lose it. It had been that exact moment you regretted not leaving the house as soon as Ray walked in just hours before.

Cesar’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, but once his chocolate brown hues fell upon his brother, they quickly hardened with anger.

‘’You did this. . .you fucking had to get your dick wet that bad that you didn’t even consider her! She did everything for us! For you! She was there for me when you weren’t! You were too busy being Spooky that you couldn’t be fucking bothered!’’ he snarled.

‘’Watch your fucking mouth, Lil Spooky,’’ Oscar steadily rose on his two feet, towering over Cesar. You stood as well, ready to jump into the lion’s den if necessary.

Cesar scoffed, a mocking smile on his lips before it quickly gave way to the coldest glare. He looked nearly identical to Oscar. ‘’You’ve given Ray so much shit for leaving us and abandoning his family. . .in reality you’re no better.’’

Oscar lunged forward, the two brothers tangled up as fists were flying.

‘’Oscar stop!’’ you screamed, throwing yourself into your ex, dodging fists left and right. Ray barged back into the house, getting a grip of Oscar as you shoved Cesar in the opposite way. The sound of Oscar’s fist coming into contact with Ray’s jaw echoed throughout the house.

‘’Get the fuck off of me! Get the fuck off of me!’’ Oscar snarled, desperately trying to shove his father off him to no avail. What Ray lacked in height when it came to Oscar, he made up with in strength. You could see Ray struggling to rein in his anger and maintain his grip on his son. Tears filled your eyes as well as Cesar’s as the two of you fell to the floor, watching the two men struggle.

‘’Had enough?’’ Ray grunted. He still smelled like you, and that more than anything broke Oscar.

Oscar managed to shove the Diaz patriarch off, falling back against the wall as he huffed, tears clouding his vision. His eyes fell on you and for once, he saw the damage his infidelities caused blow up in his face. His baby brother crying into your arms, begging it all to stop as you cried to yourself in the corner. Both of you looked so small, you looked so defeated. He had fucked up. You met his broken gaze, shaking your head as if you could will all of this to evaporate. You had fucked up. The next morning, you began looking around Freeridge for apartments. The next few weeks, Oscar helped you load up your car as you moved twenty-five minutes away from the only home you knew. The day after that? You gathered the rest of your belongings and bit back a sob as you held Cesar in a crushing hug. As you looked over his shoulder, you saw Oscar leaning against the porch’s structure, biting his lip as he looked down at you, fighting the urge to ask you to stay. To work through it. But he quickly realized that was what he had been asking of you throughout all of these years. And that is why he remained silent as you pulled out of the Diaz’s driveway. He didn’t move until your car was out of sight.

You shook your head, leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen. Your hands rubbed and massaged at your temples, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent the tears from falling. ‘’That was on me,’’ you whispered, voice croaking with emotion. You jumped when you felt Ray’s strong hand on your shoulder. You gasped as a jolt of electricity passed through the two of you. Judging from the quick intake of breath, Ray felt it too.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ he whispered. You straightened out, looking up at Ray despite still only reaching his collar bone. The inner struggle was clear as day in Ray’s eyes. He was undoubtfully attracted to you. But more than that, he admired you. The way you cared for his sons. The way you managed to handle the lifestyle of the Santos while still obtaining your classy demeanor. You were capable of holding down a family. And although you were insecure thanks to what his eldest son had put you through, Ray wanted nothing more than to reassure you of your worth.

You hesitated for just a moment, before lunging upwards and meeting Ray in a passionate kiss. A kiss that conveyed all the words you wished to say, but didn’t have the strength to voice. His hands clutched your hip and cradled the side of your neck as he returned the kiss tenfold. Whether it was lust, genuine interest, curiosity, or some weird concoction of all three you found it entirely all too easy to throw caution to the wind around this man.

You nipped at Ray’s bottom lip playfully, biting back a grin when you solicited a low moan from him. Pride be damned. Morals be damned. You had no obligation to Oscar anymore. Cesar didn’t need to know about this. It would just be a secret between the two of you.

The whimper that escaped your lips as he forcefully tugged off your top sent shivers down Ray’s spine. He grunted when his eyes feasted on the exposed skin. Without him even asking you, you unclasped your bra and stood topless in front of him. He dove down, expertly taking your nipple into his hot mouth and began twirling his tongue around your hardened bud. You moaned mewled, hands running through his short hair and roaming his broad, muscled back. Your eyes rested on the faded Santos cross on his arm, whimpering when he nipped at your sensitive skin.

‘’R-Ray,’’ you moaned lowly, mouth falling open when his hand made contact with your ass in a playful slap. You had no time to recover before he pulled away from you, gently turning you so that your front was pushed and pinned against the cool surface of the granite island. You hissed as your already hard, sensitive tits pressed against the freezing surface. You rested your cheek against the counter, shivering as Ray yanked down your leggings.

‘’Fuck,’’ he moaned, seeing your wet core fully exposed and presented to him.

‘’You’re going to be the death of me mami,’’ he whispered, pressing his bulge against your gaping hole. You bit your lip at the heat that emitted from his still clothed cock. You knew what was awaiting you and your insides coiled at the anticipation.

Each of his massive hands took a firm hold on the globes of your ass, gripping them and spreading you apart so that you were on full display under him. You let out a shaky breath between panting when his hot saliva met your tightness. His thumb spread it against your folds, teasing your clit before diving two fingers into your awaiting cunt. Ray all but growled at the way you gripped his digits. The delicious way you pulsed and clenched excitedly around his middle and index finger. He found himself constantly thinking, ‘I could get used to this.’

‘’Ray,’’ your needy voice broke him out of his thoughts as he folded over you, you feeling ever muscle of his chest against your bare back as he pressed light kisses against your shoulder before finally meeting your cheek and then your plump lips.

‘’I need you,’’ you whispered, leaning into his kisses and sighing when you heard him pull himself from his pants.

‘’You have me, princessa,’’ he grunted, working himself with one hand as the other tangled with yours’. ‘’You have me, all of me,’’ he groaned thrusting his hips forward and filling you with a brutal, singular thrust. You cried out, the burn of him stretching your tight canal was familiar and slightly painful, but divine all at once. His hand clenched yours, as if assuring you that you were ok, his lips still kissing the tears that threatened to escape the corners of your eyes.

‘’Fuck y/n,’’ he groaned, savoring the feel of his cock dragging within your tight pussy, pulling you back towards him as bit, only for you to bounce forward as he thrusted back into your core. He set a fast, brutal pace as the sounds of his thrusts echoed off the walls. You were grateful that your neighbors were at work, the wanton mewls and cries that escaped your lips would’ve surely caught their attention. As his hand held yours throughout the entire time he fucked into you, the other had a firm grip on your shoulder. Pinning you down so that you couldn’t slip from his cock and pulling you back to impale yourself on to his thickness.

You attempted to burn the sounds of his grunts and groans, as well as the squelching of your tight core every time his hips snapped against you from behind, but soon became overwhelmed. He was heavy and hot inside of you. You could feel exactly where he was every time he was seated inside of you. Your body bounced in tune with his movements, but the feeling of his heavy, throbbing manhood in your cunt was something you’d always savor.

Before you could even speak, waves of euphoria crashed within you as your release fell over his still hard cock. You could only cry out his name, panting it out as his hold on you tightened. He pressed fully against you, curling over your back as his cock throbbed and pulsed violently, painting your insides with his release.

His arms wrapped around your front, dragging you so that you rested against his chest, impaling you on his still solid dick. With awkward movements he led you past the kitchen, into your bedroom while every step you took resulted in another jolt as you practically balanced yourself on his cock.

Ray only pulled out briefly, laying you on your back on your mattress. He hovered over you, panting as his eyes glazed over at the sight of you. Your hair sprawled out like a crown around you, chest heaving with your labored breath and the post-orgasm tremors that shook you. What really caught his attention was the sight of your pretty pussy, still impossibly tight, dripping with his load onto your sky-blue comforter.

‘’Ray,’’ you whispered, reaching up for him. He laid over you, crashing his lips against your lips, seating himself back inside you. Your hands clawed at the white tank he still had on, only or him to pull away slightly and yank it off, tossing it carelessly into the corner of your room. His sweatpants were next along with any other article of clothing he had previously worn. All that was left was himself, bare and all.

Your leggings had been long abandoned in the kitchen and the moment his bare skin met yours, your fates were sealed. It was hot, passionate, deplorable, mind-blowing, wicked, otherworldly sex. Your nails embedded themselves into his back and shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips as they crashed into you. Your moans mingled with one another, lips and teeth occasionally clashing against each other as he moved in you.

‘’It’s been too fucking long without this tight pussy, princessa. My pussy,’’ he growled, hammering into you as you struggled to keep up with his thrusts. Your clutched the comforter beneath you as that familiar coil began curling and tightening within you. He was reaching new depths, exploring new parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. And all you could do was lay there, moan out his name, and take it.

‘’Fuck, Ray, yes, fuck it feels so good,’’ you whined, throwing your head back as he began nipping and sucking on the column on your neck.

‘’Cum for me, mi reina,’’ he grunted, every muscle flexing as he moaned and panted above you. His hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging and pulling you upwards to meet his thrusts. The coil was impossibly tight, tears running down your cheeks and falling onto the bed below from the sensation of it all.

But came you did, violently around his manhood. You shook underneath him, mouth warped into an ‘’o’’ shape as you sighed and moaned under him. His thrusts sped up, to your shock, and it all came to a close the moment he pulled you to him, tucking his face into the base of your neck as his hot, thick load filled you once more.

As he pulsed within you, your pussy clenching and unclenching from the aftermath of two mind-blowing orgasms back to back, you simply laid there. You basked in the aftermath of it all, shivering when his load began dripping out of you and pooling onto the blanket, leaving a quarter-sized dark spot in its’ path. Once your breathing returned to normal, Ray met your eyes, a softness in them. His mouth met yours in a comforting, warm kiss. He was still inside you when you closed your eyes and fell into a satisfying, deep sleep.

When you had opened your eyes, it was visibly night-time. The orange glow of the streetlights illuminated your bedroom from your sheer curtains. Ray was knocked out beside you, one muscled arm thrown over your side in a protective manner. A small smile graced your lips, widening when you felt the strangely satisfying soreness between your legs.

You quietly got out of bed, maneuvering around the apartment to get a glass of water while trying not to disturb Ray. You had no idea where this was going to lead you. You weighed the possibilities. To date your ex-boyfriend’s father just seemed so ridiculous and wrong. No matter what Oscar had put you through with his infidelities, to go ahead and enter a relationship with his father just seemed cruel to you. And what would Cesar think if he were to catch you and Ray together? At the same time, you didn’t want to say goodbye to Ray. Aside from great sex, you felt a genuine connection with him. He was older, yes, but he made you feel things that nobody ever had. You huffed, sipping on your water as you felt the beginnings of a headache approaching. A sudden knock and turn of your front door startled you to the point you nearly dropped your glass onto the hardwood floor.

‘’Y/n,’’ Cesar’s voice was muffled, but clear as day through the door.

You gulped, body stiff with shock and fear. From your bedroom, the mattress creaked as Ray sat up, eyes groggy with sleep.

‘’Y/n?’’ he called out, getting up to check what the commotion was.

‘’Fuck me,’’ you sighed, mind racing and heart rising to your throat once more. You were so fucked.

#on my block #Ray Diaz #spooky diaz #cesar diaz #omb fic #ray x reader #freeridge #ray diaz x reader #Smut #on my block smut

266 notes · View notes

seriouslyhooked · 3 years

Text

I’ll Stay (Vulnerable)

Cannon divergent oneshot based in 3A when everyone is back from Neverland. CS-centric, and involves Emma coming to grips with her feelings for Hook much earlier. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! In this chapter, we are taking things back to season 3 and we are rewriting it. I know, I know, you’re all shocked. Me – a devoted follower of fluff and hope – is going to rewrite a storyline where Emma and Henry left everyone behind and forgot them? Yup. Absolutely. Would write this fic a hundred times in a hundred different ways if I could. In this divergent little drabble, we made it through Neverland and got rid of Pan without any more curses or nonsense. Everyone knows what could have happened, but they avoided it, and now Emma is grappling with the fact that something more than a ‘one-time thing’ is happening between her and Hook. Inspired by the song ‘Vulnerable’ by Selena Gomez.

The irony was not lost on Emma that sleep was eluding her.

After what felt like an eternity fighting to get Henry back from the clutches of Pan and from the brink of danger, they were finally home. They’d staved off another curse, circumvented another terrible twist that would have ripped them all apart once more, and, most importantly, her kid was safe, sleeping in his bed and on the road to healing from this terrible adventure.

Over the past week, Emma had barely closed her eyes. Leading them through Neverland and navigating the wickedness of Gold and his father was a constant struggle. The physical toil and the emotional pain had been profound. She was exhausted and weary, but still, sleep would not come.

Here in the loft, the air was quiet, and the mood was peaceful. The moonlight trickled through the glass pane of her window, and the curtains caught in the breeze filtering in from outside. The temperature was perfect, cool and refreshing, but warm under the covers. The bad guys had been beaten, Storybrooke was safe, and the calm seemed stable, at least enough to last through the night. But it didn’t matter. Despite her best efforts, Emma could not sleep. She’d tried everything, but none of it would work.

It’s never going to work, she said to herself dejectedly. Not until you face this.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she muttered aloud, shutting down the part of her that wanted to work things out instead of always avoiding.

She heaved out a sigh of defeat and tossed the rumpled sheets off of her. Climbing out of bed and tiptoeing to the kitchen, Emma made sure to avoid all the noisiest parts of this apartment. She didn’t want to disturb Henry or her parents, but she couldn’t handle being cooped up in that bed. It was getting her nowhere. In fact, it was making things worse. Lying there in the dark, she was bombarded by memories and what ifs. It all was overwhelming, and enough to drive her mad.

Wordlessly she moved to the kitchen and found herself reaching for the ingredients needed for a calming cup of cocoa. Despite the lateness of the hour, she knew it would be a small token of comfort in a long, unrelenting night. The motions of preparing the sweat treat were soothing. This was a ritual she had grown accustomed to, and was mindless enough to lose herself in. But this late-night activity, which usually saw her through the worst of days, didn’t yield the desired effect. Her thoughts still wandered, circling back to a particular pirate who perplexed and provoked her.

I don’t understand his motives, she said to herself, knowing this was her cynicism taking the lead. Why is he still helping? Why take the risk? What is he after?

Why does he have to be ‘after’ anything? The reasonable part of her brain replied. Why can’t you just accept that he cares about you?

Because it can’t happen.

It already has. The kiss, in Neverland…

It was a one-time thing.

It doesn’t have to be.

It does.

It doesn’t.

It does.

You’re scared.

Of course, I’m scared! He’s Captain freaking Hook!

He’s just Killian.

“He’s not just anything,” Emma murmured as she mixed in the chocolate, watching the warmed milk turn to a rich, silky chestnut color. Here was the kernel of truth she was terrified to admit. To Emma, Hook wasn’t just a villain or a pirate. He was more, intricate and messy and moving and intriguing.

During their time in Neverland, Hook had awakened something in her. It started with the kiss, that sinful encounter that drove her to distraction, but also struck her heart, piercing armor she had been building up for years. Okay, maybe it started before that. There were plenty of heated glances, and barbed bits of repartee between them that almost felt like foreplay, but the kiss lit a fuse she didn’t realize existed. It was meant to be a power move, a strategic plan to shut him up, maybe the vent some of her frustrations out, but the consequences lingered, and they were ones that Emma never saw coming.

She could still taste him even now, the ghost of that embrace tracing touches on her skin. Pressed up against him, the roughness of leather and metal, the scrape of his beard, the taut lines of his body… She’d given into him in that moment and lingered in the pleasure. When they kissed, Emma allowed herself a minute just to feel and to live. For a fleeting blip of time, the world wasn’t crumbling around her. She was restored and she was hopeful, but it had to be just once. She wasn’t meant to want any more than that. She certainly shouldn’t still be thinking of it now, but here she was. And she was thinking of more too, thinking of the ways he’d risked himself, the ways he’d supported her, the way he’d saved her father. She acknowledged in the silence of her self-dialogue that she had grown to count on him, and that she felt drawn to him, even when his obvious role had come to an end. She should have been eager for him to go, now that the task of defeating Pan was over, but the thought of him leaving left an aching, empty feeling in her chest.

Over the past few days, Hook had luckily shown no real signs of setting outward. He was still sarcastic and cocky and cutting. He was practically gleeful every time he got to torment David, and his actions towards Neal and towards Gold were downright frosty still, but there was honor underneath it all and a respect he gave the others and this town that spoke to a more gentlemanlike nature. She had seen him when they located Henry, and observed a genuine relief when she was reunited with her son. She noticed the way he minded the others, helping far more than he hurt, and how he bit back the bullshit bad guy act when they just couldn’t take it. He could read a room, and he often did, though he hid behind the swagger and the accent. And more than once there was something that colored his gaze, swimming in the blue depths of his eyes. When he looked at her, he hid nothing, and let the weight of his affection flow between them. He may not say the words aloud, but he laid it all out there, showing a vulnerability she never imagined but desperately craved. He wanted her, and Emma… well Emma wanted -

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Emma jumped, her hand moving towards her chest and making contact with the speedy pacing of her heartbeat. Adrenaline spiked in her system, but she immediately relaxed when she saw it was only Mary Margaret. Emma worried for a moment that the conversations playing in her head may have been whispered out loud, but her mother (God that was still so weird to say), showed no awareness. Seeing as Mary Margaret was incapable of keeping secrets, Emma knew her own were safe. At least for now.

“No. You?”

“I wish,” Her mother said, reaching into the cupboard and coming out with cinnamon, bringing a small smile to Emma’s lips. “I never can after these escapades. But your father? Out like a light the moment the bad things pass. It’s almost like it never happened.”

“Lucky guy,” Emma joked, and her mother chuckled, a thoughtful expression coloring her face.

“We are all lucky tonight. It was almost so much worse.” Snow’s words had the lilt of unshed tears hanging on the end. Emma could see the mistiness in her mother’s eyes, and felt the weight of her worry. “We almost lost you again, Emma.”

“I know, but you didn’t,” Emma said, placing a hand on her mother’s shoulder. Snow placed her own hand over it and took a deep breath, nodding. She wiped two stray tears away quickly but collected herself.

“Everything that’s happened… well it’s put things in perspective for me.”

“Like what?”

“I was wrong, Emma. In Neverland, when I practically interrogated you about Hook.”

To say that this was unexpected was an understatement. Emma was shocked at the acknowledgement, even though she appreciated the words.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t,” her mother emphasized, and Emma stayed quiet. Snow was right after all. It wasn’t great. It had caused more pain in a series of painful events, but Emma planned to just move past it and leave the discomfort behind them. “I didn’t understand what you had been through. Even worse I jumped to my own conclusions. I was pushing you towards Neal, thinking Hook was the bad guy, but in the end, looking at the full picture, that’s not really the story, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Emma agreed. “Honestly, I can’t really follow the story anymore. I feel…”

“Lost?” her mother asked. Emma nodded.

“Yeah. Crazy right? We leave Neverland, and somehow I’m more lost back home than I was there.”

“Maybe,” her mother mused, as Emma poured two glasses of cocoa. She handed them to Snow for added cinnamon, but she was curious as to her mother’s hesitation.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are you really lost, Emma? Or are you scared of facing what it is that you want?”

The words were a swift punch to the gut, but Emma sustained them, taking a sip of her cocoa and braving up to respond honestly. “The second one. But it’s insane. How is it possible? A few weeks ago, I’d never even met this man. He’s a pirate – a villain from a story that I read as a kid. Things are moving so quickly, and yet their standing still. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you trust him?”

“As much as I trust anyone,” she admitted, the truth coming out for the first time since meeting him.

“Do you care for him?”

Emma nodded, not daring to say that part just yet. Her mother’s eyes softened, a look of love despite the strangeness of this suitor.

“Does it have potential?”

“I don’t know,” Emma whispered, but the feeling in her chest that had been there for a while now was blooming something fierce. This may not be her gut, per se, but it was something adjacent, an instinct and an emotion screaming out that there was more than meets the eye here. This was different. This was special.

“If you think about the future, is he there?”

“I think I want him to be,” Emma said, knowing there wasn’t much thinking to be done. That was what she wanted, and now, she’d finally confessed it.

“Then you have your answer. It’s just a matter of facing it and doing what you need to do.”

Her mother’s observation hung between them and Emma realized Snow had immediate expectations. “You mean now? But it’s late.”

“So? He’s a pirate. I don’t know much about them, but I’ll hazard a guess that they don’t keep normal hours.”

“This is crazy.”

“Affairs of the heart usually are, Emma. You’ll recall I once bashed your father in the head with a rock, and yet the thought of going one more day without him by my side…” Emma’s pulse skipped a beat at the mention of her heart. Another sign that deep down she had known for quite a while what she wanted. “You’ll never sleep until it’s settled, honey. Believe me, I know. You take after your mother, just as I took after mine.”

Emma didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at her mother’s joke, but she found herself hugging Snow close and thanking her. From there, things got a bit hazy. She was working off of adrenaline, moving to her room and changing out of her pajamas before heading into the Storybrooke night. It was just after midnight, not tremendously late, but by small town standards it was as quiet as quiet could get. Everything was closed now, the diner, the inn. Even the bar was locked up tight, and that was as late-night as Storybrooke ever got. There was no one around, just Emma and the pounding of her heart. Still, she kept moving, following the advice of her mother and the sense of what-if that had nagged at her all evening.

Soon enough she was at the docks, following the lamp light, and headed in the direction of the Jolly Roger. It wouldn’t be difficult to spot, as the only Enchanted Forest vessel in the harbor, but still Emma worried. What if he’d left in the dark of the night? What if he believed her when she said this didn’t matter? What if she was too late?

When the ship came into view, she exhaled a sigh of relief, but it was quiet. The lights were out. There were no signs of movement anywhere. And then she heard it. Singing, feint at first, but louder as she approached the boat. The voice was deep, but ruggedly refined. She knew it was Hook, but she’d never actually considered what he’d sound like in a song. His voice was beautiful and a little haunting, the seafaring shanty being one of heartache and loss. It was somber and serene, but despite its content, it was also a little bit hopeful. At least to Emma. Because if Killian was up signing instead of sleeping in his quarters after all they’d faced in the past few weeks, maybe that meant he was thinking thoughts like the ones that she’d been plagued with.

On their voyage to and from Neverland, Emma came to know this ship intimately, and the wooden planks called out to her. They were familiar and welcoming, two things she never believed she would ever say. It would be so easy to come aboard and just announce herself. But instinctively she knew it wasn’t okay to board this ship without permission. Insecurities crept in at the realization. She was intruding. This wasn’t right.

This was stupid, she reasoned to herself. I should have waited until morning. I should have –

“Swan?”

The voice she most wanted to hear played strange tricks on her now, sending a shiver of anticipation through her system and a tiny bit of terror as well. She looked to the deck but didn’t see him, then she realized the voice had sounded out from a higher locale. Her eyes climbed the great mast of the Jolly and there he was, perched atop the crow’s nest. With a coordination and grace reserved for the movies, he swung down from the great height with a rope from above. The action only tensed the hard lines of his muscles even more, and Emma took each movement in, unable to look away.

Hook was still dressed in a way she was used to seeing, but now he was missing his jacket and his vest. His hair was tousled, and his beard a touch darker, or perhaps that was a trick of the moonlight. She’d never seen him like this before. He was somehow even sexier than usual, and it overwhelmed her. He descended from the ship at a hurried clip, moving towards her with purpose and precision. He closed the distance between them, until they were mere inches away from one another. When he was near enough, his eyes searched her whole being for signs of trouble, and his hand came out to reach for hers in a show of comfort. She extended hers in kind, and her body came alive at the contact. Her breathing caught as her eyes met his cerulean gaze, brimming with intensity and earnestness.

“Emma, love, are you all right? Is it Henry? Has something happened?”

The worry in his tone was evident, and the honesty she felt flowing off of him broke the last fragments of her will power. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was in this, and it was damn well time that she act like it.

She practically leapt into his arms, pulling him down by the v of his somewhat unbuttoned shirt and kissing him as she’d wanted to ever since walking away back in Neverland. The instant delight that came was heady and addictive, and this time Emma knew that she could savor it. There was nothing looming on the horizon – nothing poised to stop them or intrude on this big moment – and for the first time in a long time, Emma felt free. Free to feel and free to want something only for herself.

Hook needed only the briefest moment to respond. He practically purred out his approval, the growl he let loose buzzing through her and setting her ablaze. His expert use of hand and hook left her shaking. He pulled her even closer, closing the remaining space between them, and enveloping her in every part of him. Emma stopped knowing where she ended and he began. God, this was perfect. Easily the best kiss she’d ever had. How could anything possibly feel this good? His hard body had her squirming in his grasp, seeking any semblance of friction and relief. She’d been carrying desire for this man for too long, but compartmentalizing and hiding it away. Now it flowed freely, surrounding her, engulfing her, and leaving her breathless.

She wasn’t the only one trying to soak in every moment. Hook was just as ravenous, nipping and teasing her with touches designed to seduce and to entrance. He was hot and fierce and alluring, the scent of rum and salt and sea air clinging to him. It felt dangerous and daunting, but also natural and filled with need. Like magnets flung towards impact, two opposites attracting and finding something more. Many parts of this were familiar, but then it changed, sparked fire, and blazed to something past her comprehension.

With the benefit of privacy and time, Hook took control and guided the kiss. He was dominant and demanding in ways Emma never allowed another man to be. It set her soul on fire, and tilted the world into a whole new point of view. This heated embrace stole every shred of sanity Emma had left, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Neverland was about her making a statement, and tonight was as well. But Hook would have his say this time, and he showed her so much more through luscious actions than anyone ever had with words. This kiss was a revelation, a seduction any siren would be proud of, and here she was, caught within the storm but finding that she loved it all the same.

Coming up for air was a struggle, mostly because now that she had done this, Emma didn’t want to let go. But after the fervor of first contact, they both knew that they had to talk about this. For Emma, it was time to fess up, and to confess that the fear of taking a chance was overwhelming, but that the fear of losing a chance at this was even more jarring.

“It’s difficult for a man to determine if he’s dreaming when a woman as lovely as you appears like this, Swan.” Killian uttered the words as his fingers traced along her jaw. His hook held her hip in place, the cool metal a source of strange comfort. Emma nuzzled in closer, leaning against his palm and breathing him in as her eyes closed. “But in all my years I’ve never had a dream that compares to you. So it must be real. Please, Gods above, let it be real.”

“It’s real,” she whispered, pressing another soft kiss on his lips. “We’re real. I’ve been scared as hell to say that, but I…”

“I understand, love. It’s wholly unexpected. And I’m not exactly the kind of man a woman like you deserves.”

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, and the pain in his eyes sent a sharp sting through her heart. Obviously he didn’t see himself the way she saw him. But maybe with time, things would be more clear.

“It’s the truth, Swan.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Aye.”

“Do you want me?” He nodded immediately, his hold on her tightening, whether or not he realized it. Her lips curved up to a small smile at that, and she not so secretly loved how sure and certain he was in this.

“Yes.”

“Would you ever hurt me?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly, and the pain of her past surging up in darkened memories.

“I might, love, but Gods strike me down if I do, because it’s the last thing in the world I’d ever want.”

“And that’s how I know,” she whispered. Looking at him with new conviction, willing him to believe her. “That’s the difference with you, Killian. I see you, I see your heart, and I know you see me. Not the savior, not the sheriff, not the lost little girl or the woman with walls. You see me. Just me.”

“You’re all I see, Swan. Have been for some time.”

She didn’t know who started their next kiss, but she felt the frenzy of it all the same. It was just as magnificent as before, but this time sincerity simmered throughout as well. The understanding they were reaching made it all the better. Knowing they were both going to jump here gave her comfort, but there were still some words to say.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” she admitted, running her hand across his chest as their foreheads touched. She looked down to avoid an embarrassing exchange. Patiently he waited, but when she stayed stock still, he tilted back and brought up his hook. He gently nudged her chin back up, prompting her to see that there was nothing like judgment in his eyes.

‘Neither do I. But we’ll see it through. Together.”

“I’m not good at letting people in.”

This time he grinned, looking like a man who was up for the challenge of scaling her walls. She almost rolled her eyes until he took her hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss upon it. It was an intimate gesture that made her heart soar. Who was this man who could be so roughish and rough one moment and yet gentle and sweet the next?

“That makes two of us.”

“I’m going to fuck this up,” she affirmed, assured of the missteps she would make and wanting him to realize she was so much less than perfect.

Now he looked frustrated, and his voice ground out in a graveled, gruff tone. “Not possible.”

“How do you know?”

‘Because you’re you, Swan,” he murmured, pressing sweet kisses to her face, to her neck and jaw, then her lips once more. “You’re rare and remarkable and real. You can do anything you set your mind to, anything but push me away. I’m in this, Emma. Entirely and completely. It’s soon to admit that, but you deserve the truth, and you’ll always hear it from me.”

“I really want to trust you,” she whispered, clutching onto his shirt and letting this one last worry live between them.

“And someday you will. In the meantime, I can wait. I will wait. As long as it takes.” That was all it took. Peace finally claimed her, and something in her settled.

“Okay,” she murmured, leaning in to hug him and basking in his heat and the gentle thrumming of his heart.

“Okay,” he replied, a lilted whisper in her hair as he held her close.

They remained out there for a while more, but neither needed to say anything for them to realize what must come next. Emma needed to go home, and he would see her there, safe and sound. They walked together, down Main Street in the moonlight, hand in hand, with the closeness of lovers, and the poise of two similar souls seeking comfort in each other. No one was around to see them, but Emma knew they would very soon. She wasn’t going to hide this, and someday they’d walk in the light together, letting everyone know exactly where they stood.

When they were back by the loft, Emma stalled, not wanting this to end. She wished she could invite him up for a drink, a drink that would no doubt turn to more, but she couldn’t. Instead, they needed to say goodbye for now, but she found she wasn’t sure how.

Killian took the moment to pull her in, kissing her one last time, and saying again with actions what words could only half describe. This kiss was sweet but insistent, a reminder and a promise of all that he would give and all that they could have if they chose to be together. When they broke apart, Emma was certain in him and in herself. This was happening. This was right.

“Until tomorrow then, love,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss upon her cheek.

“Good night, Killian.”

His eyes lit up and he smiled at her use of his real name. She made a promise to herself that she would use it more often. He waited for her to go inside, and only when she’d done so did he finally walk away. Leaning against the wooden door, Emma sighed in relief and smiled.

This is the start of something good. Something true. Something… happy.

And with those final thoughts, Emma headed back to bed, and found that sleep came swiftly, bringing with it dreams she hoped would come to pass.

……………..

If I gave you every piece of me, I know that you could drop it Give you the chance, I know that you could take advantage once you got it If I open up my heart to you, I know that you could lock it Throw away the key and keep it there forever in your pocket

If I gave the opportunity to you, then would you blow it? If I was the greatest thing that happened to you, would you know it? If my love was like a flower, would you plant it, would you grow it? I might give you all my body, are you strong enough to hold it?

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable

If I hand you my emotion, would you even want to take it? If I give you all my trust now, would you fumble it and break it? If I let you cross my finish line, then would you wanna make it? I think I'm ready, won't you come and flip the switch and activate it?

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? (I'll stay vulnerable) I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

(I'll stay vulnerable, yeah)

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Honestly, I had no intentions of writing this chapter right now. I knew the song needed to be in the mixtape, as I love it, and it fits so well with this series of CS love stories, but I have a number of other fics I am working on now that need attending to. Nevertheless, here we are, and luckily, this has proved to be the perfect palate cleanse for my other writing. My multichapter stories will be back soon. I’ve already started writing, and in the meantime, we all get an added little romantic bonus. Hope you enjoyed this dose of fluff, thank you all for reading, and know that I’m wishing you safe, healthy, and well. xE.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195, Part 196

#captain swan #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut?#cannon divergent #cannon divergence #captain swan rewrite #emma swan #killian jones #ouat rewrite #cs oneshot #captain swan oneshot #the mixtape #cs mixtape #captain swan mixtape #i'll stay vulnerable

39 notes · View notes

oriigami · 4 years

Text

comfort food

[I was writing some short prompt drabbles just for fun, but this one took on a life of its own and grew into a full oneshot, so here’s some post-Wano Tama and Sanji, recovering. TW for disordered eating- also on AO3 here.]

Tama’s mouth wouldn’t stop watering.

She was perched on the counter that ran along the back of the narrow galley, watching as Sanji cooked. She swallowed hard to stop herself from drooling, but couldn’t drag her eyes away from the pan bubbling on the stove, slow-searing something in preparation for lunch, more than half an hour away still.

The smell, sweet and savory all at once, seemed to reach all the way down to her stomach and squeeze, and a little whimper escaped her lips despite her best efforts. Which was stupid, she’d had breakfast only a couple hours ago, she couldn’t be hungry again already-

Sanji glanced back at her at the sound, and a flicker of an expression she couldn’t read crossed his face before he smiled. “You really like hanging out in here, huh?”

“Ah- yeah!” she said, smiling back, just a little shaky. “It’s…” -reassuring, it’s so reassuring, there’s so much food, all the time- “…it smells nice,” she finished lamely, ducking her head. “And… I like watching you cook.”

“Yeah?” Sanji pulled a small pot down from the overhead shelves, filling it with water and tossing a few ingredients in (so much food-) before setting it on an empty burner and starting the heat. “Are you interested in cooking?”

“Um…” Tama said slowly, because- how could she say it wasn’t really the cooking she was interested in but the food, the idea of being able to make food, and eat it, whenever, just because she was hungry- “Kind of?”

Sanji gave her that look she couldn’t read again, then turned back to the stove. “You know,” he said, “I grew up in a kitchen like this one, working in a restaurant. Started when I was just about your age. My old man ran the place.” She could see him smile in profile. “I used to spend hours just watching him cook. Before long he started talking me through what he was doing, and then having me copy him,” he said.

“Your dad?” Tama asked, curious. It was strange, to think of the pirates having once been as young as her. They were all seemed so strong, so old- not small and weak and hungry.

Sanji grinned down at the pan. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s a tough old bastard.”

A timer went off on the stove, and Sanji was all at once in motion again, rearranging pots and grabbing for utensils. Tama watched his back, fascinated- though her main interest in the galley was the food, the smell and the comfort of it, she always admired the smooth effortlessness with which he handled himself when he was cooking, like every move he made was one he’d done a thousand times before.

Without warning, a steaming bowl was pushed into her hands. She blinked blankly down at it- broth, simple and hot and delicious and full of little chunks of vegetables and meat, a spoon resting ready against the lip- then up at Sanji.

“You’re hungry, right?” he said, glancing around from where he was already back to poking at the pan with a spatula. “Eat that.”

Tama flushed, cheeks going hot with shame. She couldn’t believe she’d been so obvious, so ungrateful when she was eating more food now daily than she used to in a month, in a year. “I- n-no, I’m fine, I just had breakfast, I’m not hungry, really-“ she stammered, holding the bowl out and ducking her head to keep from looking at it.

She was so hungry, but-

A gentle hand pushed the bowl back towards her. “Oi, none of that. Rules on this ship are, if you’re hungry, you eat. And don’t try to tell me you’re not.”

Tama hesitated, hands clenching around the small wooden bowl. “But I shouldn’t be,” she said weakly. “I’m eating so much now- every day-“ she trailed off, curling around the bowl slightly and staring down at the floor. “Why’m I still so hungry?”

Sanji was quiet for a moment, then turned a dial down on the stove and turned around fully to look at her. “When your body spends a lot of time very hungry,” he said slowly, leaning back against the stove and folding his arms, “it gets used to not having food. So when you do get food, your body gets scared it won’t last. It starts telling you to eat everything you can while you can, even if you’ve just eaten. It’s not your fault, just something that happens.”

“So…” Tama started, stopped, wet her lips, tried again, “How… how do you… stop it?”

“You eat,” Sanji said firmly, prodding at the bowl still cradled against her chest. “Whenever you’re hungry. Eventually your body learns there’ll always be food there when you do need it. Broth is perfect because it fills you up, but you can eat a lot of it without getting sick. I can teach you how to cook it sometime, but in the meantime, just ask whenever and I’ll whip something up.”

“But… I don’t want to…” Tama stared down at the bowl. It was still letting off faint wisps of steam. “You’re already giving me so much-”

“Listen,” Sanji said, and waited until she hesitantly lifted her head to look at him to say, “I’m the cook on this ship. It’s my job to make sure nobody goes hungry. Including you. So you let me know when you’re hungry, whenever, and let me do my job and feed you. Okay?”

Tama nodded, a little jerkily. The spoon was still waiting patiently in the bowl. She picked it up and scooped up a spoonful of broth, shoving it into her mouth before the shame could freeze her hands.

It was delicious, because of course it was, and in moments she was jerking the bowl up to her mouth and gulping the contents down, spoon clattering forgotten to the counter. All too soon it was empty; Sanji wordlessly took it from her hands, ladeled another serving out of the pot on the stove, and passed it back to her.

She was halfway through her third bowl before she managed to slow down long enough to realize she was crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping to the galley floor and splashing into her mostly-empty bowl. She sniffled, embarrassed, and scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeves.

“Good?” Sanji asked, once she’d composed herself enough to look up at him again. He was grinning.

Tama nodded, still wiping at her face. “Uh-huh.” She held the empty bowl out, bowing her head. “Thank you very very much.”

“Anytime. I mean it,” Sanji said, taking the bowl and setting it in the sink.

Tama nodded, sniffling again, because she could tell he did mean it, that she could shake him awake in the middle of the night and he’d still be more than happy to make her something to eat, and that certainty nearly reduced her to tears all over again.

Sanji was rearranging the counter, moving plates and ingredients around. Tama watched, uncomprehending, until he finished clearing a space beside the oven and gestured for her to come over.

“Come on, if you’re gonna watch me cook you’ll get a better view from over here,” he said. “It’s yakisoba for lunch. You can keep an eye on the meat here for me while I get started on the noodles.”

Tama sniffled and wiped at her eyes a final time, then nodded hard and slid off of her perch, padding across the narrow galley to Sanji’s side. He easily picked her up and set her on the counter, giving her a full view of his workspace. There was meat still sizzling in the pan, and a huge pot full of water just beginning to boil on another burner.

“You start with the meat, with yakisoba, because you can do it while you’re waiting for the water to boil for the noodles,” Sanji explained, “and because it doesn’t have to still be hot at the end, but the noodles do. You need a lot of water because it’s a lot of noodles- especially when cooking for this crew- and they get bigger as they boil, so it takes longer.”

Tama nodded along, legs swinging as she watched. The galley was bright with sunlight and warm with the sound and smell of meat sizzling on the stove. Sanji shoveled the noodles into the boiling water by the handful, talking her through how not to break them and how to figure serving size.

For once, she didn’t feel hungry.

#opfanfic #my writing #otama #sanji #one piece #opfic #if oda will not give me the sanji content i want i will Create it

103 notes · View notes

redeadepression · 3 years

Text

Just Ask | John Marston Fic

This started as a drabble but now it’s a small oneshot. This is absolutely NOT the fetish fic I was talking about posting recently!

I can’t get away from thoughts of this AU lately. I’m thinking about making this a small series if anyone is interested. John’s inner monologue of all his failures (set in my Modern AU) and interactions with his friends and family/their reactions to his situation.

trigger warning: implied/referenced attempted suicide, depression, anxiety, mental health issues.

Characters: John Marston, Arthur Morgan. Setting: My Modern AU Words: 1503 Summery: John gets a visitor during his stay in the hospital .

PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!

John stared at the yellow wall with glazed over eyes. Not really seeing the room in front of him at all. Just the colour that was currently being used as a backdrop for all of his failings as they played out in front of his eyes in a continuous loop.

Yellow was supposed to make him feel happy. At least that was the reasoning he had come up with the first time he’d been shoved in one of these rooms and frowned at the use of such a saturated colour in a such a small space.

It made him feel claustrophobic. Smothered by the walls and his memories. The rhythmic clicking of nurses shoes walking up and down the hallway every minute or so just adding to the monotony of his stay.

Every now and then someone would start to yell.

That was fun.

He had decided as he strained to listen to what was being said a couple of rooms down. Entertaining himself at the expense of someone else’s mystery.

He didn’t feel too bad about it. Knowing full well that his neighbors were listening to him when it was his turn to scream.

John sat bolt upright at the knock on his doorframe. The nurses didn’t announce themselves and he hadn’t expected a visitor. His heart raced uncomfortably in his chest. He had been so caught up in his own mind he hadn’t even noticed someone standing there.

He had already been here for four days without hearing a word from any of his loved ones.

He didn’t need them.

He had decided on the second night. When his tears had long since dried but the suffocating sobs remained. Sucking air from his lungs and making feel as though he was going to die as he struggled and failed to regain his composure.

John looked towards the door, placing his hand on his chest briefly in a futile effort to calm himself down.

He’d expected to see Abigail. Despite their current situation he hoped she’d still care enough to come and see him. But after four long, lonely days he was starting to lose hope that she had any love for him left.

John looked away from the door quickly, realising his visitor was Arthur. Nose scrunching and hands shaking as he heard the other man’s footsteps grow closer to his bed.

Of course it was Arthur. It would have been too simple for it to be Abigail or Karmen.

John didn’t look up as he heard the older man grunt as he lowered himself into the chair next to his bed.

Arthur sat patiently waiting for John to address him.

“What are you doing here?” John asked after a long while. Unable to look up from his hands as he heard his brother sigh in contemplation.

“I could ask you the same thing, really.” Arthur said after a moment.

John glared at the blanket over his legs, picking aggressively at his one jagged fingernails to keep his attention away from the other man.

“I’m a patient.” He replied bitterly, scowling as Arthur chuckled at his words.

“You’re a fucking smart-ass is what you are.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a moment to look his brother over properly.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheek bones looked sharp like they could cut glass. He looked tired. His skin a greyish tinge that reminded Arthur a little too much of the last time he had laid eyes on a corpse.

“You know why I’m here.” John spat after it became clear Arthur was not going to speak again. His tone was filled with venom but his voice was weak. “Don’t make me say it.” He said, softer. He wasn’t mad at Arthur.

He was ashamed.

“I know.” Arthur said softly, his tone a lot calmer than John had expected it to be. “You scared me.” He admitted quietly.

A statement that caught John’s attention. His eyes finally finding Arthurs for a fleeting second before he averted them. Forcing himself to look away and out the window next to his bed as they began to sting.

“How did you find me?” John asked, voice croaky as he held back his emotions.

“Abigail.” Arthur answered simply. John closed his eyes briefly in annoyance.

She couldn’t visit but she could gossip.

There was a long silence as John lamented his current predicament. Arthur was a great brother. But there were few things John hated more in the world than appearing weak in front of him.

“I told you to call me.” Arthur said firmly, his tone shifting to that of a concerned parent. “The first time.” He clarified after a second.

“I did.” John said simply, eyes not wavering from their position in the same way his voice did.

“You didn’t tell me anything was wrong.” Arthur said gruffly, sitting forward in his chair and resting his forearms on his knees. He clasped his hands together in between his legs and hung his head for a moment.

John knew that Arthur meant well with his offer. But he acted as though admitting he needed someone was the easiest thing in the world. As if asking for help was something John should just do regardless of the time or place.

Arthur exhaled long and loud before sitting up straight again and pursing his lips. “Dammit John, you can’t keep doing this.” He whispered harshly, shaking his head.

John finally turned to face him, eyes watering heavily as they stared at one another for too long. The silence dragging until John couldn’t take it anymore.

“You were busy.” He whispered, voice broken. Arthur’s brows knitted together in a frown.

“Not too busy to keep you alive you fucking idiot.” Arthur growled, voice raising involuntarily as his emotions began to boil over.

He hated this. He loved John but he hated being too scared to miss his call. He hated playing the guessing game every time they spoke. Was he just calling to chat or did he need him?

Arthur wasn’t so vain as to assume that anything John was going to do to himself was a direct result of him not being near his phone. But he wasn’t sure he could live with the guilt if John had of succeeded in his task. Knowing that he’d been too busy to really listen to the tone of John’s voice. That he’d hung up without asking the real question.

Are you okay?

John’s eyes darted behind Arthur as he spoke. His brother turned to see a nurse stopped in the doorway, observing them. He turned back to John, watching as the other man’s tears finally spilled over.

Arthur felt a pang of guilt. He loved his brother. He hated making him cry.

He took a calming breath and held out his hands in surrender.

“So you just came here to yell at me?” John asked after he’d watched the nurse continue on her route. One of his hands coming up to rub at his wet eyes before joining his other, fisting in the blanket on his lap.

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” John asked, more urgently than he meant to, just barely holding it together.

More guilt. His heart ached at the pain in John’s voice. He needed some time.

“I came here to tell you I’m glad you’re still alive.” Arthur said flatly. “And if I can figure out how to do so without calling you a fucking idiot I’ll come back. But right now this is the best you’re going to get.” He said steadily as he pushed himself up from his chair.

He flipped open the flap on his satchel and pulled out a few things. John eyed him from the side as he opened the draw of the empty bedside table and placed two cans of energy drink and a chocolate bar inside. Closing it quickly to hide it from the staff before placing some clothes, a portable gaming console and a few games on top of the stand.

“I need to cool off.” Arthur said as he closed his bag, a suspicious burning in the back of his throat. He cleared it loudly to try and rid himself of the feeling. “Call me if you need anything else. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“But…” John breathed, unable to say the word loud enough to be heard.

He watched Arthur go without a goodbye. Tears running down his cheeks as the older man disappeared quickly down the hallway. Leaving him alone in the sterile room once more.

John tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Rubbing frantically at his eyes and wishing he hadn’t been such a prick.

Maybe he would have stayed longer.

He shifted himself down in his bed, lying on the pillow and staring at the yellow ceiling as ragged breathing and suffocating sobs returned to him.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

End.

If you liked this please let me know what you thought! Would you want to read more of this? Who would you like to see John interact with? Do you want more backstory?

#john marston #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #tw suicide #cw suicide #tw attempted suicide #cw attempted suicide #tw #trigger warning #content warning #cw #tw depression #cw depression #trigger warning suicide #trigger warning depression #anxiety #psych hospital

27 notes · View notes

iridescentanachronism · 5 years

Text

calum + a coffeeshop run-in

Hello folks! I am back again to wreck havoc (by wreck havoc i mean write a mediocre at best + way too long oneshot LOL) so I hope no one minds! I am in love with Calum Hood so idk i thought i’d write this cute fluffy piece! This is an OC I might use her again, and the two don’t meet till the end but its very fluffy! If you’re not a fan of slow burn this probably isn’t the drabble for you. Anywho! Thank ya for the support on the last fic and constructive criticism is MORE than welcome!!! Love ya <3

WC: 1914

As the soft sunlight poured into the coffeehouse, she let a small smile grace her face; a steaming cafe au lait was sitting to the right of her favorite novel, It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. The warm brick walls were covered with blankets of thick ivy and the familiar barista sent her a wave as he grinned at her seat of choice. Every Saturday morning she, as gracefully as possible, plopped her bag down onto the corner table next to the large window, and proceeded to order the exact same thing as the week before. The habit had evolved into more of a tradition for her and the employees, and all parties involved looked forward to it every week. Of course, however, not everyone knew of her tradition. All of the regulars looked at her with familiarity, however, Calum Hood was not a regular.

He first spotted her on Saturday the third, he would never forget the date. After becoming overwhelmed with the stress of the studio he had popped out for a smoke and ended up in the cozy joint, not anticipating the beautiful girl humming in the corner. He noticed how the pages of her book had been dog-earred, spine worn, and the cover had shown marks that could only be a result of love. He noticed the way her thick brown hair laid perfectly over her shoulders, and the way her hazel eyes began to moisten while she read. He knew that he wasn’t the only person whose breath had been taken by the polished young woman. Whilst Calum took his time adoring the woman who he had deemed no less than an angel, the boys continued to work, and eventually his brief solace had to come to an end. After receiving his drink, he considered introducing himself, but he knew he didn’t have much time before his absence would go from being a mere annoyance to a menace, so he swore to go back on the next Saturday, hoping that her visit was a habit.

Calum had never felt as though the days passed by slowly, his schedule was always packed and the bassist had little time to dedicate to anything other than his craft. Typically, he would be grateful for the daily recording sessions, long days of interviews, and time to perfect his abilities; this week, however, Calum yearned for the time to pass more quickly. He busied himself with every possible task in an effort to distract himself from the memory of the woman who had entranced him. No, he didn’t believe in “love at first sight”, but he did know that he was drawn to this girl in a way he had never felt before. He had purchased a copy of the novel that she appeared to adore, and after starting it he had realized why her eyes misted at the cafe; it was a gut wrenching story of perseverance in its most raw form. After reading a few chapters, he proceeded to clean his kitchen, do a load of laundry, tune his bass, attempt to write, and make himself lunch, Calum had about had it. It was only eleven in the morning on Wednesday, how the hell was he supposed to last until Saturday? He allowed his mind to wander into a dangerous territory; he began to build a backstory for the beauty. He decided she must be a quiet introvert who preferred to go at her own pace than follow another's, that's why she spent her Saturday morning alone and in peace, rather than surrounded by friends or family.

After a long day of bussing tables, Theo unceremoniously threw herself onto the couch in the backroom. It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant she worked at, a scene that she knew far too well from her years of working there. She allowed herself three minutes, no more and no less, to rest before her short trip home. She was simply so exhausted that even the drive to her home had seemed daunting. After her time-out had ended, she quickly wished a goodnight to her coworkers and walked to her car. She faced almost no traffic on her car ride home (as she had expected, as she clocked out at 11:03pm), and made her way into her cozy apartment. After saying hello to the attendant at the desk downstairs, she scurried up to the third floor to complete her nighttime routine and jump into her familiar bed. Before allowing herself to fade into sleep, she rolled over and made sure to set her alarm for nine; it was simply tradition that she made it to her coffeeshop before the eleven o’clock rush.

On Saturday morning Calum was buzzing with excitement. Duke’s “walk” appeared to be more of a speed walk today, and Calum’s shower was about five minutes shorter than usual; his hair routine, however? Roughly 15 minutes and approximately eight curses longer. He could not wrap his head around the gut feeling he had all week: the stunning girl would be back today, and Calum would approach her. The plan seemed simple enough, being that he had not made one yet. Calum, or “Cool Guy Cal” as he demanded people call him, thought he would be able to come up with a smooth one-liner as he approached the girl he could not get off his mind. He gave Duke a quick kiss on the head before grabbing his car keys, asking fate to give him this one chance with the girl he couldn’t forget.

Theo woke up well before her alarm, she set it every Friday night hoping that her work sleep schedule would magically wear off and she would be able to sleep past six, but her plan never worked. She padded around her apartment in her ex’s large tee shirt and fed her goldfish, Samuel, while affectionately murmuring that he was the best choice she’d ever made. She tidied up the house and began her morning routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and pulling her unlawful curls out of her eyes with a few clips. She sighed at the dark circles underneath her eyelids, but hadn’t thought enough about them to bother with makeup. She grabbed her day bag, untouched from the week before, and happily trotted out of her complex. The walk to the cafe had always been her favorite part of her trips, the birds chirping and the bright sun spreading across her skin could turn any day into a good one. Her green maxi skirt brushed along her legs as she confidently strutted down the same route she took every Saturday morning. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high; unknowingly carrying an aura of professionalism and class. The young woman hadn’t realized that she appeared so poised before she moved to the Golden State. Far more people than she could count had complimented her for her stature since she moved, and she had just about had it with strangers approaching to compliment her “vibe”. During her tenure in Los Angeles, Theo had realized that everything here was curated to be seen by others. Simply, in LA people believed that every aspect of one’s life was meant to be on display, and therefore, little things like one’s strut down the street and the amount of rings on their hand translated to their worth and opinions. She continued her trot down the road, ignoring the looks being sent her way and instead focusing on the cafe au lait and comforting text that she knew awaited her.

Before Calum left his car, he made sure to triple check his appearance. He wore what he believed to be his best shirt (Ashton agreed with him, so he knew it wasn’t a mistake), left his curls a little messy, and made sure he had absolutely nothing in his teeth, despite the fact that he hadn’t yet consumed anything. He jumped out of the car and walked briskly to the ivy covered walls, a warm feeling began to spread in his chest as he swung open the doors and glanced around the cafe. The feeling dissipated quickly when he realized that the girl he had ventured out for was, in fact, not there. He ordered his drink of choice and sat at a table near a window before huffing in frustration, but he had nothing to lose at this point, so once his number was called he rose to pick up his drink and enjoy the serene cafe he had found himself in.

The little bell jingled above Theo’s head as she walked into the place she had grown so familiar with, her face still felt hot from the merciless Los Angeles summer she had walked through, and it was her absolute favorite feeling. The long skirt fluttered around her calves as she walked up to the counter to say hello to the baristas that she now called her friends, and they began working on her drink without even asking what she would like. She went to take her usual place in the secluded corner by the window, and while walking over noticed a breathtaking man sitting two tables away from her spot. Her breath hitched in her throat and she shot him a soft smile as she took her rightful place.

My God. I could wake up to that smile everyday. Calum thought to himself in awe. He quickly curved up the sides of his mouth to send her (what he hoped was) a sweet grin in return. He quickly shook the previous thought out of his head, knowing it was more than irrational and inappropriate since he had yet to even learn the girls name. He watched as the man who took his order walked over to her table with a bemused smile, they chatted briefly and it became quite obvious to Cal that his hunch had been correct, she does come here every Saturday morning. Zach, the barista, had left her table with a laugh and returned with a big mug. After straining to hear Calum heard the girl release a melodic giggle paired with a genuine thank you for the server. Zach mockingly bowed to her and said, with an exaggerated wink, “anything for you, Princess Theo”. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ignited when Calum heard the pet name, he felt more gratitude for Zach than he could ever imagine. Theo. Theo fit the young woman perfectly; a greek name meaning “divine gift”. With this newfound information Calum felt the surge of confidence he needed, he approached the table in the corner with a bit of nerves in his tummy.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Calum, I was just wondering if this seat is taken?” He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but Calum may have thickened his accent a bit in an effort to woo the girl. She already had him wrapped around her finger, at this point he needed every advantage he could get. He watched in adoration as her face flushed bright pink, and she sputtered out a greeting of her own, “Oh! Um- hi I’m Theo it’s nice to meet you as well, no-no, the seat isn’t taken.” From the second that Calum slid into the chair across from her, Theo knew he would be nothing but trouble, and in the years to follow she would learn that while he was troublesome, he was so much more.

10 notes · View notes

im-fairly-whitty · 6 years

Text

10 Starters

Tagged by @slusheeduck for the “10 Starters Challenge.” Essentially taking the first line of 10 of your fics/works (or the first paragraph to get the vibe of it.)

It was so so much fun digging through my story trunk and remembering all these fantastic projects! Here we go:

1. The Arbrel

My very first novel, started this one when I was fifteen and it's a loose mess of a plot featuring people who have animal-based superpowers.

Unfinished and always will be.

Mitch dashed down the alley, his stolen prize grasped tightly in his hand as he weaved around crushed cardboard boxes and jumped over loose piles of leaves. The cold October air bit through the holes in his jeans and the hood of his sweatshirt slid off, baring his short dark hair to the chilled twilight of the Minnesota evening.

2. Dr Who fanfic

I thought Coco was my first foray into fanfic, but then remembered an old Dr Who self-insert drabble I wrote forever ago.

For some reason I've forgotten, it seems to have been part of a homework assignment.

A package of gluten-free spaghetti, that’s all I had wanted when I walked through the automatic doors of my neighborhood Smith’s. Instead of procuring my pasta as according to plan, I now found myself precariously perched upon the ice cream freezer.

3. Honey Rubies

There was a spooky story contest at a Haloween party I attended in high school. Wrote this oneshot from the point of view of a disturbingly cheerful clinically insane murderer and swept away first prize no contest after completely terrifying my friends.

Maybe available for posting if requested.

I love my white chair, it is solid and secure and always there. I know it is always there. Around it spreads a beautiful field of emerald grass that stretches to a horizon of blue that soars up to form a ceiling of azure far above my head. I call this place Amy. The first Amy was a person, not a place, she was always there too. Until one day she wasn’t.

4. Hitman for Hire: Unfinished Business Only

A story about a hitman who takes business from spirits with unfinished business, killing their murderers so that the spirits can move on before warping into dangerous poltergeists like the one that killed his mother, who was a psychic.

I only ever wrote the first chapter of this one since I decided I wasn't comfortable jumping down the dark rabbit hole that this story would require (it would definitely be an M rating and I don't like wandering past pg-13), but I do love the chapter a lot. I could be convinced to post what I have already if requested, but will likely remain unfinished.

“... and once the ladder tipped I fell right on the fence below. It was a two-story fall! And then my idiot brother-in-law just watches me bleed out, a piece of rebar through my neck. You ever bled to death? Like, it’s quick, but not that quick.” The lanky man rubbed a hand on his neck, grimacing.

5. How to Hate the Planet Earth

An alien scout has just finished her report that the Earth is ready for harvesting but is feeling guilty about having doomed the planet and its population that she's come to love. Now with three days before the end of Earth she recruits a depressed and confused art student to help her find all the reasons to hate Earth to make her feel better.

A finished 30k romp of a story featuring a one-eared cat, a retaliatory gang, and an overall "Good Omens/Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy" vibe. Could possibly be convinced to post, but it’ll need editing first.

Taking a sip of coffee Hinge picked up her pen with new resolve, focusing on the bitter taste.

The native’s addictive stimulant of choice, “coffee...”

She took another sip of the disgusting, awful, really despicable drink.

...causes headaches if the habit is not sustained...

Her next sip had an extra taste of vanilla.

...which isn’t hard, since the delicious...

Frowning she crossed it out and tried again, taking another swig, savoring the nutmeg.

The terrible, not tasty, not amazing nutmeg she had discovered yesterday while taste-testing all the different kinds of flavors you could order.

6. Never City

A dystopian retelling of Peter Pan, Sixteen-year-old Peder isn't happy when the Tinker asks him to kidnap two young boys before the government does. He and his group of robotic lost boys prefer to stay hidden in the shadows of Never City, but he agrees anyway. He doesn't want the government to trap the minds of John and Michael Darling in digital "lifechips" like they did with the lost boys Peder now cares for.

It’s a full and polished YA novel manuscript I was shopping around to agents last year, but not sure if I'm going to anymore since my writing has improved a ton since then so I’m feeling stuck in limbo with this one.

Peder had plenty of experience reviving the dead, he just needed to work a bit faster than usual tonight.

7. Nightmare Knight

There is a man that’s been in Samantha’s dreams for months now. No, not “the man of her dreams,” literally a man, always in the background, just casually watching her from a distance every night. She’s never able to talk to him, so when he shows up at her house one morning to offer her an apprenticeship as a nightmare slayer, she’s more than intrigued. Her real life is a dead end as far as she’s concerned, and maybe she sort of had to lie to her new mentor and kind of run away from home, but she’s not going to let anything keep her from taking full advantage of this chance to escape her real life. Little does she realize that in the dreamscape, her devil-may-care attitude will lead to attracting all kinds of devils who DO care, unleashing exactly the kind of monsters she’ll be training to kill. By the time she does realize it, it might be too late.

I have a full finished novel manuscript of it but am currently rewriting it.

“I am dreaming. I am paying attention.” Samantha said aloud, focusing as hard as she could.

8. Hillbriar

Dani Hillbriar, youngest of three, has enough problems in her fifteen-year-old life before she wakes up coughing sparks one morning, not to mention the scaly rash on her shoulder. Turns out that her brother, sister and father are having the same unexpected health issues, which reaches a terrifying crescendo when her brother Marcos sprouts giant leathery wings right in the middle of the living room. Turns out that Dad's crazy uncle has left the family a huge property in the middle of Montana in his will, an apparently magical property that happens to comes with the ability to turn into a dragon in order to protect it. Something that neither Dani, her family, or the dragon community at large are at all pleased about as the family is pulled into the secret-ridden politics of the Hillbriar family that have been covered for years.

A novel I have planned out but is mostly unwritten, I'll be working more on it sometime.

It's not like like I woke up planning to burn my house down, I'm not a freak. It just kind of happened.

9. For Whom the Bell Tolls - Coco

Baby's first real fanfic (not counting the Dr Who drabble). Ernesto De la Cruz a year post movie decides to pay Miguel a visit to give the kid a taste of what regret feels like.

It had been a year since paradise had turned to hell.

10. The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher AU

Yall know this one. Here’s the first line of the first chapter I did for it. Imelda was still angry with Hector, meaning that when he was late to the welcome-back assembly she couldn’t text him to see where he was. She’d maintained complete radio silence for three months now despite his best efforts and was very proud of herself for it.

***

If you’ve got 10+ works to choose from and the fancy hits you, go ahead and tag yourself! This was a lot of fun and is making me itch to get back to some of my original works projects.

#long post #wit writes #10 starters #this was a ton of fun #thanks slush!

13 notes · View notes

everythinginslowmotion · 7 years

Text

Voltron Rec List

Note: I also have a fic rec page where you can find all of these fics as well (|x|), and all of these on this list will be Klance (EXCEPT #4: GAP YEAR).

COMPLETED FICS (more and uncompleted fics under the cut)

1. What We Make of it by: Wittyy-name

rating: Mature

chapters: 1

words: 46,327

description: Keith has been training for this for months. So despite feeling like everything else in his life is falling apart and could be summed up with a big, blaring question mark, he finds himself halfway across the world with Shiro and Allura, preparing for his first ironman triathlon. He was expecting some typical touristy activities and a grueling day of physical activity. What he wasn't expecting was to meet a gorgeous boy with bright blue eyes and a smile that made his insides squirm. Lance has been in a rut, unable to find the happiness that once filled his life. Everything looks gray, and he feels suffocated. And that's how he finds himself halfway across the world, backpacking across a foreign country with his best friend, Hunk, and their new friend, Pidge. That is, until they run out of money and decide to get a job. He's having fun, and colors are leaking past the dam and back into his life. What he wasn't expecting was to meet a beautiful boy with dark eyes and a shy smile that broke those flood gates wide open

review: Oh my God, Wittyy did it again. Honestly, since finding her work, I've been in love. I plan of reading all of her storys (that pertain to my fandoms- which is just Voltron right now) at some point in time because the writing is just beautiful. What We Make of it is another example of how the Voltron fandom has amazing writers that are capable of converting me from 200,000 word, extremely thought out fics to oneshots and have me like them in the same way. It's pretty long for a oneshot but it's worth it. It's really good (and it's based on her trip to New Zeland so even better).

2. Never Saw You Coming by: dimpleforyourthoughts

rating: Mature

chapters: 1

words: 47,873

description: Three months in space on his own would have been fine. Three months in space with Lance McClain is a whole other fucking story

review: HOLY SHIT oh my God this is one of the best fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. I thought her other one was great but this one just blew everything else out of the water. Keith is an ass but I still love him and it works so well (because it is in his pov). Ugh it is so so good please read it becasue it deserves to be recognized and appreciated more- honestly I dont know how it isnt more popular. Definitely one of my top favorite fanfics I have ever read!

3. Nothing Quite as Sweet by: dimpleforyourthoughts

rating: Teen & Up

chapters: 1

words: 50,370

description: Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

review: So due to my recent lack of fanfiction to read, I spent the entire morning looking at rec lists trying to find on worthy of reading and I had seen this one on a couple and saw that though it was a oneshot that it was in fact longer than Wittyy's WMMOI and thought "Why not give it a shot". So I did and then spent the rest of my afternoon reading it and holy shit was it good. Honestly, I'm so happy i read this because like words just can't descrive how I feel about it. I'm usually not a big fan of cats and stuff but the way they are used in here just get me and Im also not huge on coffee shop aus but this one is just way too good. read it. READ IT. Its so worth an entire afternoon.

4. Don’t Forget to Remember Me by: CamelotQueen

rating: General

chapters: 1

words: 4,107

description: Keith recognizes him immediately. Alarm bells go off in his head. This person is important, he thinks. He wishes he could remember. “Keith!” he exclaims, “Look who’s finally awake. How are you feeling today?” Keith falters. His mind is working a mile a minute trying to recall this person’s name, what he is to him. “Um… who are you?” he asks dumbly. He immediately regrets it. -Keith suffers from dissociative amnesia

review: If you like sad, read this. This is a oneshot that was followed up with the next fic to this right (I'll Never Leave You Alone) and both of them kill you. They are so well written and you really can feel the emotions that is going on between the characters, especially what Lance is feeling as he takes care of Keith who is also struggling very much so. The other members of Team Voltron (minus Allura and Coran) make an apperance in this fic but their part is minor.

5. I’ll Never Leave You Alone by: CamelotQueen (add on to Don’t Forget to Remember Me)

rating: General

chapters: 7

words: 17,300

description: Over a decade after the team was launched into space, Keith is back on earth struggling with dissociative amnesia. Luckily he's not fighting it alone, and his husband and the rest of the team are there to help. A series of drabbles revolving around Keith's amnesia

review: I can't with this fic. The oneshot (Don't Forget to Remember Me) made me cry, and although I managed to not cry during these 7 oneshots, it still got to me so bad. I feel so horrible for Lance and Keith and everyone else because they have to go through this and I can't even imagine how hard it would be. Each chapter is a different day in Keith/Lance's life. They are mainly bad/neutral days and chapter 2 is a great day, but again for the most part this will kill you but it is amazing.

6. Gap Year by: WaxandWane

rating: Teen & Up

chapters: 1

words: 1,432

description: Lance finds himself. Turns out, he was right there all along.

review: This is in fact the only fic that I have read that is not for a ship. It is for Lance on his own. Again, it's another fic with a really short description but trust me it is well worth the read. I'm usually not one that is for oneshots all that much but since I've entered the Voltron fandom, oneshots are mostly the only completed works since it's a fairly new fandom. Also this is completely from Lance's perspective and it's a little depressing becuase Langst but Langst is now my new favorite thing (Lance + Angst is the best thing to ever happen to me) so I'm 100% okay with that.

7. Lucky by: imtheonlybeefcow

rating: General Audiences

chapters: 1

words: 7,000

description: Allura lets everyone have a one week vacation! Lance gets to see his family.

review: So this one is actually by one of my best friends. When she first told me about her "Lance can sing headcanon" I was like OH MY GOD THAT IS AMAZING I WANT IT NOW, and then she told me she was writing a fic and I was so happy (especailly since she let me read it as she was writing it). This whole thing is just so pure. Also Lauren is amazing and I love her

8. I Think I’ve Hit A Wall by: imtheonlybeefcow

rating: Teen & Up

chapters: 6

words: 11,286

description: Keith gets injured while training and it's up to Lance and Shiro to take care of him

review: Another fic by my friend (no I'm not being bias I promise, I'm actually super picky about my fics and she is a great writer so her fics deserve to be on here). One of my favorite things about this fic (besides the fact that I was able to read parts of it before everyone else, and was asked for help with some of the decisions- nothing major and only like 2 things but still) is the title. It fits it so well, and I think it's really funny considering. Read it, it's a good one

UNCOMPLETED FICS

1. On Thin Ice by: Minadora

rating: Mature

chapters: 9/?

words: 149,858

last update: 3.12.17

description: Once upon a time, two Canadian nerds decided to start a figure skating au about their two space sons and their wonderful misfit friends. Ten pages of headcanons later we finally put electronic pen to electronic paper and created this monstrosity. This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater. Enjoy the ride because it's only just started.

review: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. That is how I feel when I'm reading this fic. And when it updates. And just in general anytime I begin to think about it. I love this fic so, so much. It's literally all of my favorite things combined into one big thing. Angst, Fanfiction, Klance, and Figure Skating. And it's so good and long (and i'm a sucker for long fics). Honestly, I'm such trash for this fic and I get told that all of the time but I'm so okay with it because come on figure skating is the best

2. Shut Up and Dance With Me by: Wittyy-name, illustrated by: Wolfpainters

rating: Mature

chapters: 10/16

words: 132,130

last update: 5.26.2017

description: Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith. Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo. With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.

review: When I said I love Wittyy's work I wasn't kidding, her fics will be on here a lot. I think I started reading this after I finsihed reading what was made of OTI, and I was like holy shit did I just find another amazing slow burn au with another sport that i like. The answer is yes, I did. Honestly I have a huge problem, but I don't really care at this point because fics like this are just so good and Wittyy is an amazing writer and wolfpainters (the arist, aka Sora) is also just so good and together they are perfect.

3. The Marks We Make by: Wittyy-name, illustrated by: Wolfpainters

rating: Mature

chapters: 5/?

words: 94,834

last update: 5.4.2017

description: Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by. Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

review: Yet another fic by my favorite person, Wittyy (and illustrated by Wolfpainters). Just when you thought Wittyy's writing couldn't get anybetter, it did. This fic only has a few chapters up right now and I'm hooked. Like everything else that she has ever writen, TMWM is halarious, angsty and cute and sweet all at the same time. I think part of the reason I love her writing so much is that the characters never seem like they are out of character from the show, yet I almost forget they aren't her characters at all and I love it. Anyway, this fic is amazing and I can't wait to see where it goes. (bonus for all HP fans- there is also quiddich so read up you nerds)

4. Shadow of the Past by: wittyy-name (mirrored fic: Ghost of the Future by: Zizzani)

rating: General

chapters: 2/?

words: 18,988

last update: 2.26.2017

description: When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here. He finds his team to be remarkably familiar, yet distinctly different. They have more scars, a better grip on the whole saving the universe thing, and over a year’s worth of teamwork to bind them together. But the weirdest part? Keith seems to be a lot more touchy with him. Not that he’s complaining… much. The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. But despite the fact that they’re still his friends, Lance can’t help but feel a little out of place among a team that’s been through so much with a Lance that just isn’t him. And it doesn’t help that the team is on edge around him, refusing to tell him anything for fear of influencing and changing the past. Things get even more complicated when they have to rely on the team in the past to complete the switch, leaving Lance to little more than sit, wait, and attempt to fill in his future self’s shoes. Mirror fic to "Ghost of the Future" by Zizzani

review: So like it's mirror, I also discovered this one through Wittyy and if you read Ghost of the Future then you need to read this one as well because they go together and it just makes the whole thing so much better, not to mention, who wouldn't want to see the future paladins (because this one is from past!Lance's perspective in the future). It's super interesting to see how Witttyy portray's the futures of team Voltron so far and how their relationships and lives have changed over the course of the year.

5. Ghost of the Future by: Zizzani (mirrored fic: Shadow of the past by: Wittyy-name)

rating: General

chapters: 2/?

words: 17,282

last update: 2.26.2017

description: When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place. This Lance is faster, stronger, and markedly more mature. Not only that, but he's distinctly more intuitive about his teammates and A LOT more touchy with Keith. The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance's places and restore them to their original timelines. Things only get more complicated when the Future Lance can't seem to remember where he was when the switch happened, and he refuses to reveal anything about his own time for fear of influencing the team's decisions. Mirror fic to "Shadow of the Past" by wittyy_name

review: So I discovered this fic through Wittyy (who writes the mirror fic) and WOW it is so good. This one is from future!Lance's perspective in the current time (the time of the show) and I just have so many feelings towards Lance from the future, it's really not okay (I love him so so much). Ugh these two fics are just so well written and i can't handle it.

6. I Found Love by: seabreez, illustrated by: thesearchingastronaut

rating: Teen & Up

chapters: 3/?

words: 12,201

last update: 3.17.2017

description: Keith is just trying to live his life as a freelance illustrator with his cat, keeping up with bills by having two part-time jobs. But when he keeps bumping into Mr. Tall, Tan, & Handsome after a music event at his bar, well, maybe he's willing to make time for pretty, blue eyes and a laugh like silver bells.

review: Okay, so thesearchingastronaught is hands down one of my favorite voltron artists because her work is amazing, so when I saw that she collabed with people and did the art for fics I had to read them. I actually read the next fic before this one but still this one is so good. Pure fluff is a really good change from my usual slow burn hardcore angst that I'm used to. So if you are looking for fluff or just a break in the sadness that is your choice of fanfiction, then this is for sure the fic for you.

7. Off Balance by: jubilee_jawz, illustrated by: thesearchingastronaut

rating: General Audiences

chapters: 2/?

words: 4,786

last update: 1.27.2017

description: 12 year old Keith has settled into his adoptive home quiet nicely. Its Christmas Eve and Shiro makes it home late from uni and he takes Keith out to see the local ballet preform The Nutcracker. Lance is a soldier in the show and beats a rat into submission and little Keith gets his first crush. (AU where Lance is a ballet student at Altea Academy and Keith is pining as per usual. )

review: Fuck Dance AU's- aka. please read this because there are only 2 chapters and it's so adorable already and there is a cute mini aussie named Chaiko and i love dance AU's and need all of them now but especially this one. Jubilee-jawz is the actual author and thesearchingastronaught is the amazing artist for this story and if you like klance then you have probably seen her work- it's so good. Unfortunately, I think this fic has been set on hold for just a little bit because of some personal issues, but I'm not completely sure

#voltron fics #klance #voltron #lance #keith #fic recs #klance fics #fanfiction #keith kogane #lance mcclain #fandom textpost

13 notes · View notes

seriouslyhooked · 7 years

Text

Not Broken Anymore (The CS Mixtape) Part 147/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Based on a reader request for the song ‘Not Broken Anymore’ by Blue October. My reader didn’t specify anything further, but the lyrics of the song spoke to me especially and told me it had to be from Killian’s POV and it had to be emotionally packed. In the end it is the fluffiest drabble focused on a CS wedding reception and Emma and Killian dancing together. Hope you guys enjoy and thanks for reading!

Once upon a time, not really so long ago in the scheme of Killian’s past, there was no room in his world for hope.

Killian had resolved himself to a false belief that the best days of his life were behind him. The only way ahead was one of vengeance and darkness and plight. He was destined to stay broken and unhappy, or so he had thought. But then his plans for revenge took an unexpected turn, and he was thrown into the path of a fiery, stubborn, brilliant, beautiful woman who changed everything almost from the moment that he met her.

Since that jaunt on the beanstalk with Emma Killian had been altered, and though the transformation hadn’t come overnight, his return to a side of goodness and of light had sparked even back then. There were lapses of course in his judgment and his choices, but the one thing that proved time and time again to be right for Killian was to put Emma above all else. Anything could be justified in his eyes as long as is it was done in the service of the woman he loved, a woman he had given all of himself to, and who he would adore all the days of his life.

He had made that solemn promise to cherish and to hold his Swan from now until forever earlier this afternoon in a church filled with people who cared for them and for their family. In many ways it was a traditional ceremony, and much of the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding in the Enchanted Forest was done away with, but there were some parts where Emma and Killian differed from the norm, most notably in their vows. It had been a sticking point for both Emma and Killian that they not say ‘until death do us part’ during the service, because death had come knocking before and it had made no difference on the bond between them. This love, true and unyielding as it was, would endure anything in this world and the next, and the ties they’d bound each other with today as man and wife would carry on until the end of time.

“I dare you to stop smiling,” Emma teased him, pulling Killian from his thoughts and reminiscing as they swayed together to the music of the band in their backyard tonight.

This was their wedding party, and unlike that modest ceremony of before, it was a grand affair by Storybrooke standards where everyone in town was invited. There were twinkling lights, glowing lanterns, and flowers as far as the eye could see, as well as a great many other small elements that when brought together made for a truly magical sight. But it mattered not to Killian. Despite the meticulous details ironed out by Emma’s mother and the rest of the family, it wasn’t the ambiance of this evening that meant the most to him. All Killian needed was to be with Emma, and he was as happy as a man could possibly be with her here in his arms right now.

Killian’s hand ran across the small of Emma’s back, grazing over the soft lace of the lovely gown she’d worn today, and though she was pressed firm against him, her body flush with his in a tantalizing way, she’d never be close enough for his liking. Even later on, when they stole away from the fray of guests and returned to their home and to their bed, Killian knew he’d never have enough. He was insatiable when it came to his new bride, but he fully intended to spend his whole life loving her the way she deserved.

“I will if you will,” Killian countered with a flirtatious tone aimed at copying her level of jest even as it tempted Emma to feel as much and as strongly as he did.

As a response Emma only smiled more, and the sight of her joy clutched at his heartstrings. Gods she was beautiful, always a vision in every form and every way, but seeing Emma as elated as he was in their union was something else entirely. He’d already traced and retraced every feature of the picture that she made today, willing this memory to remain in vivid detail for him to always hold dear in his heart, but damn if he could stop looking at her and grinning like a mad man. He was just too aware of his good fortune, and too blissfully amazed at their finally being here to even consider hiding his true feelings.

“Point taken,” Emma acquiesced before letting out a happy little hum of appreciation. “Is it crazy for me to say I kind of can’t believe it? I mean we got married today. You and me – the two people with the worst track record for uninterrupted quiet moments in history – and it was… well it was perfect.”

Perfect seemed almost too tame a word for what today had been. It was life affirming and soul replenishing for Killian in a way nothing else ever had been. Sure he’d felt unimaginable pleasure in securing Emma’s love and hearing that ‘yes’ she gave him when he’d asked her (the second time around) to marry him. But this was different. This was a chapter he and Emma had been building towards for so long, but that he’d never dared to dream would come to pass. It was too enchanting a prospect to truly believe in for such a long time, but here it was, and not a moment too soon.

Killian had been almost manic in his worry during the hours they were apart this morning that something would go wrong or that Emma would change her mind, and the waiting wasn’t at all easy as the day wore on. But all of his anxieties were immediately calmed and cured when he’d seen Emma come through those big wooden doors and when she’d looked at him and smiled with happy tears in those always expressive eyes of her. It was easily the best day of his very long life, and though Killian was tempted to say it would be the best he ever saw, he knew not to underestimate his Swan. After all, Emma had a way of granting him the most beautiful gifts, and there would no doubt be more times in their future when she took his breath away and made his world even more miraculous than it already was.

“Perfect is a good way to put it, Swan,” Killian agreed, stealing a kiss from her as he muttered the words and watching the flush that came to spread across her cheeks when he pulled back.

That same soft pink color had been there more than a few times today, like in the moment when Killian told her he loved her as her father placed her hand in Killian’s, and when he whispered in her ear as they walked back down that aisle as man and wife about the wedding night that would await them. But the frequency of Emma’s response didn’t dull the impact. Killian still felt like the king of the world for putting that look on his Emma’s face, and nothing and no one could tear him down.

“Are you still going to call me that, even though I’m technically Emma Jones now?” Emma asked, causing another flare of desire to rush through him. The thought that she was branded with his last name was heady and invigorating, but if Emma doubted that to him he’d always be ‘Swan,’ she was in for quite a surprise.

“Aye, love. For it’s always been more than a simple name. It’s who you are,” Killian affirmed. Yet before he could spell out all the detailed reasons why he would keep that moniker in his heart for her always, a tap came at his shoulder interrupting them.

“Mind if I cut in?” David asked, clearly hoping to steal that dance Killian had been warned of that came on a wedding day between a father and daughter in this realm.

Part of Killian hated the idea of letting Emma go, even if he rationally knew she’d be right here and squarely in his sights, but he knew this was a tradition that would be important to both Emma and David. They’d been denied so much already in the grand scheme of things, and Killian had no interest in taking anything else away from them. So instead of demanding more time with Emma alone, Killian moved back, taking Emma’s hand in his and pressing a chaste kiss on her palm before handing her off to her father.

“For a second there I didn’t know if you’d let Grandpa have his turn,” Henry claimed when Killian moved off the dance floor to find a spot where he could keep his eyes trained on Emma.

Killian looked at the boy who was now his stepson and grinned, tilting his head and scratching behind his ear in a slightly embarrassed gesture. It seemed that despite Killian’s best efforts he was still all too transparent in his feelings. Not that he would ever regret that. He had nothing to hide from anyone, and he was more than proud to let the whole world know just how much he loved his wife.

“For a second I wondered the same thing,” Killian replied honestly.

Henry laughed at that and then looked back to his mother as Killian did the same. It was magical, this feeling that Emma inspired even from this distance. She was glowing as she twirled around the space with her Dad, laughing and smiling, and every ounce of happiness she set free felt like a special present just for Killian. Gone was the woman who had once been closed off from the world and from her feelings. Emma had let all of that go, choosing instead to let herself live and to thrive in the way she deserved to, and the way he wanted for her.

“I didn’t get a chance to say it before with everything being so hectic and Grandma making all that fuss…” Henry began. “But I’m glad it’s you that Mom married. I’m glad you found her, Killian – that you found all of us.”

Killian looked back to Henry and nodded. As far as emotional admissions went, neither of them was terribly disposed to sharing with the other, but Killian could read through the lines, and though Henry had granted his blessing a few times before, this was his way of saying that he was good with having Killian enter the family. And as the person who meant the most to Emma in the world, Henry meant a lot to Killian, and so did his opinion.

“I’m glad for that too, lad. More glad than I can say.”

The touching, quiet moment lingered between the two of them for a few more seconds, but then distraction came calling again, this time in the form of Violet who asked Henry for a dance and then from Snow who came over to Killian’s other side looking more than a little teary eyed after the day they’d all just shared together. Killian honestly wondered if Snow had managed to stop crying once in the hours since Emma and Killian said ‘I do,’ but since every tear she shed was a joyful one, Killian wasn’t worried about his standing with the Charming family.

“She’s just so beautiful,” Snow claimed as she dabbed a cloth at her eyes before more tears could fall. “And so happy.”

Killian felt near bursting at pride at that. The thought that he had played any role in securing joy in Emma’s life was one he cherished dearly, for she had a way of making his life so much warmer and brighter and more alive in every way. It still amazed him, truly, that they’d even gotten here at all, but Emma’s smile and her aura right now, so filled with light and peace and glee, were all the proof he needed that they were real and that this was all actually happening.

“My daughter is easily the strongest person I have ever met,” Snow continued quietly as she continued to gaze at her husband and at Emma. “But when she first got to Storybrooke Emma was also fragile despite all those walls she tried to protect herself with. That was David and my doing. We made our choice and we put the fate of everyone over the loving, happy life Emma should have had.”

The crack in Snow’s voice told Killian that his mother-in-law still held deep remorse for those actions, and though he knew she didn’t regret the way things had turned out, she did still blame herself for the harsher parts of life Emma had witnessed. It had never been easy for his Swan, but that strength her mother mentioned ended up winning out in the end, and now the woman before them who was dancing with her father on her wedding day didn’t see herself as a lost little girl anymore. Emma was secure in who she was and where she belonged and she had let go of the past as much as any one person could.

“You did what you had to do. That curse never would have been broken if not for Emma,” Killian said, offering some sort of comfort to Snow as he placed his hand on her arm. She nodded at that and looked to him with more unshed tears in her eyes.

“We did. But I was so scared that Emma would never get past it. I told her to always have hope and that things would all work out in the end, but I began to wonder if we hadn’t doomed her in a way by putting all this burden on her shoulders. She deserved more than all that fear and all that doubt, and I didn’t know how to give that to her. But you did, Killian, and for that I will always see you as a hero. I’ll never have the words to thank you for everything you’ve given her, what you’ve given all of us.”

His being cast in such a light, was slightly uncomfortable to Killian. What Snow neglected to note in her kind recounting of his and Emma’s past was that any healing that occurred was on both of their parts, and that the only way they could have gotten here was through both of them changing and taking the risk. In Killian’s mind he’d had so much farther to go than his love when it came to being worthy, and Emma had been the one who took the bigger chance in loving him than he had in loving her. Now he intended to spend the rest of his days showing his wife that that chance had been worth it.

“The real miracle was that Emma met a broken, darkened man and saw what could be instead of what was there. None of you owe me anything. It’s I who owe the debt.”

“Well you’re not broken anymore,” Snow said softly with heartfelt reassurance. “You’ve become exactly the kind of man I wanted my daughter to find.”

“I’m not exactly a prince,” Killian replied, more in jest than in all seriousness, but Snow read his intent and wouldn’t let him play it off, giving him the full extent of her compliment before he could back away from it.

“And none of us expect you to be. All we ask if that Emma have someone who chooses her and puts her first and who loves her the way Emma deserves to be loved. That’s the most important thing and it’s what you do so well, Killian. As for the titles… well in the end they just don’t matter, do they?”

Killian shook his head, knowing that they didn’t. People were more than the labels they were given, and he and the rest of this family were the proof of that fact. With love and with hope anyone could change and anyone could choose their role in this life for better or worse. There no limits, not when it came to true love.

“You have my word that I’ll always do right by her,” Killian vowed, hoping to assure Snow that while turbulence would no doubt come into all of their lives again, his ties to Emma would never weaken or fade in any way. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he would always do his best to be the husband and the partner that Emma needed.

“I know you will,” Snow said with a smile before patting his hand and looking back out to the sea of people.

Soon after that, the song that had been playing ended and Emma and her father broke apart as a new one began. When they did, Killian noticed Emma’s searching gaze around the backyard, and the way her smile grew more warm and inviting when her eyes landed on him. She didn’t have to say a word for Killian to make his excuses to Snow and to return to his bride, and after a brief nod of understanding between him and David, Killian was right back where he wanted to be with his true love in his arms once more.

“Thank you,” Emma said as she pressed a kiss to Killian’s lips lightly.

“For what, Swan?” Killian asked, not exactly following her train of thought, but wanting to understand what he’d done right so he could do it more often.

“For everything. For being you, for never giving up, for loving me… just, thank you.”

Understanding dawned on Killian then, but he was eager to address Emma’s rationale that any of that would require gratitude. Loving her was the most natural thing he’d ever done, and everything Killian did for Emma he did without expectation. There was no competition between them or tally of who could show their love for the other more. This was an equal flow of caring that defied measurement and everything Emma had just credited him for could be said about her in return. With that firm belief in mind, Killian tilted Emma’s chin up so their gazes would meet once more, hoping she’d believe him when he made her this promise.

“You never have to thank me for any of that, Emma,” Killian said as he moved his hand up to cup her cheek. “It’s my honor to belong to you, my love, and it always will be.”

“I’m yours too, always,” Emma professed, making Killian growl approvingly before he stole another kiss that tempted them both right up to the edge of the line of decency.

“If you had to guess, how many more dances would you say are expected of us this evening?” Killian’s query brought out a smirk that played at Emma’s lips, and immediately she knew what he was getting at.

“No clue. But since it’s technically our night, I think we get to decide for ourselves.”

If it were solely up to him, Killian would have stolen away with Emma hours ago. The evening had been incredible to be sure, but there were still too many eyes around them and too many people present for them to be totally themselves. Only when it was just the two of them would Killian feel truly at peace, but he had no desire to pressure Emma. If she wanted to linger longer he would gladly do so and enjoy every moment of anticipation that built in the meantime.

“I’d dance all night with you, Emma, if that was your wish.”

“Hmm,” she replied pretending to consider as her fingers traced along the nape of his neck lightly, but the playfulness in Emma’s eyes hinted at what was coming. “That sounds pretty spectacular…but I think being alone with you sounds even better.”

And so, with permission granted from his wife, and powered by an unyielding desire to love Emma in every way he could, Killian proceeded to sweep his princess off her feet and back into their own little castle once more, where they would spend the rest of their lives together enjoying the happy ending they’d both fought so hard for.

…………

I know how to let you leave How am I suppose to let you go? Now you stand in front of me And all the rain is turning into snow

Can you tell me that you're real So I can really know That everything I feel I can finally show Standing next to me oh the person I can be Is finally here and he won't back down at all

But I can't stop thinking How you just keep making Sense of all that was broken before

And I won't keep faking 'Cause I'm done with taking 'Cause with you I'm not broken anymore

I've seen the empty deep I've damned up the water flow You're the touchstone my complete You're the ship that kept me afloat

Can you tell me that you're real So I can really know That everything I feel I can finally show Standing next to me oh the person I can be Is finally here and he won't back down at all

But I can't stop thinking How you just keep making Sense of all that was broken before

And I won't keep faking 'Cause I'm done with taking 'Cause with you I'm not broken anymore

But I can't stop thinking How you just keep making Sense of all that was broken before

And I won't keep faking 'Cause I'm done with all the taking 'Cause with you I'm not broken anymore

And I can't stop thinking How you just keep making Sense of all that was broken before

Yeah and I won't keep faking 'Cause I'm done with taking 'Cause with you I'm not broken anymore

I'm not broken anymore

Post-Note: So first and foremost thank you to the lovely reader who asked for this song! I am sorry it took so long for me to get to it, but I hope I did your vision justice and I appreciate your patience. This was such a nice fic to write today since it’s rainy and dreary in my corner of the world, and this chapter is anything but. In fact, I am hard pressed to think of very many moments that would be fluffier than Emma and Killian dancing on their wedding night. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading, and I want to let you guys know that I am still working on cutting down the list of prompts I have. It’s slow going, but I am getting there, so don’t worry – if you have requested a song I will eventually get to it! Thanks again and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125, Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132, Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138, Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145, Part 146

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs oneshot #cs wedding #emma swan #killian jones #the charmings #henry #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #the captain swan mixtape #captain swan mixtape fic #ouat fic #not broken anymore #prompted fic

17 notes · View notes