#but also a nightmare to cut down to 10 gifs
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A Safe Place || Dallas "Dally" Winston
Summary: Request - Can you do a Dally or Darry x female reader where reader is having a really difficult time at home (mom and dad are kinda like Johnny's parents and beat up physically and mentally on reader?)... Read Rest Here
A/N: As long as I live I will forever write The Outsiders. Such a unique group to write. This one is tough but I really love it!
Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Johnny Cade Sister)
Word Count: 3.3k +
TW: ABUSE, talks of abuse, hitting, bruises, cuts, blood, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings
As you stumbled through the door of the Curtis household the entire greaser gang turned to look at you. Their expressions shifting from surprise to concern in an instant. Dally was the first to react, his eyes widening in realization as he took in the extent of your injuries.
"Jesus, what happened to you?" Dally's voice was gruff but there was an underlying edge of worry as he approached you. His movements were surprisingly gentle as he took in your battered appearance. His usually stern expression softened which revealed a glimpse of the concern that lurked beneath his tough exterior.
You could feel the weight of their stares. Their unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. It was clear that they were shocked by the state you were in, and the realization only made you feel more vulnerable. Because for as bad as you felt you just knew you looked 10 times worse. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time he didn’t seem to want to stop.
"I-I... I had a run-in with my old man," you managed to choke out. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fought to hold back the tears brimming at the edge of your eyes. You’d done so good escaping it was suddenly catching up to you what you had just gone through. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. A painful reminder of the nightmare you couldn't escape.
Steve's jaw clenched tight with anger as he took in your bruised and bloodied face, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "That bastard," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with rage. "He’s gonna pay for this, I swear."
Dally's expression darkened at your words. His features contorted with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "I'll kill him," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to contain the rage simmering just beneath the surface. His words hung heavy in the air as it was a promise of retribution that sent a shiver down your spine. The scary part was that you knew he would kill him given the chance. It was one thing with Johnny… but when he saw you so battered he found a rage not even he knew he had.
Instinctively you flinched at his declaration. The raw intensity in his voice triggering a flood of memories you wished you could forget. You had already endured so much, the wounds—both physical and emotional—still fresh and raw. The thought of more violence only served to deepen the pit of dread that churned in your stomach. Sure, you grew up with the greasers but it never made the violence and threats of it any easier.
As if sensing your reaction Dally's eyes softened with remorse. A pang of guilt flickering across his features. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering uncertainly over your shoulder before finally making the gentlest contact. He was afraid of the bruises underneath your clothes, the ones he couldn’t see. "Hey," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his earlier words. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For all his tough exterior there was a vulnerability in Dally that few ever got to see. A glimpse of the boy beneath the cocky attitude that he showed all too often. As you looked into his eyes you saw not just the anger and the pain, but also the deep-seated compassion that he tried so hard to conceal. His presence was a balm to your battered soul. A reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.
Dally's sharp gaze hardened as he turned to the group just staring at the scene unfolding before them. "Get the hell out of here if you ain’t gonna be useful," he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "Give us some space guys." The rest of the gang exchanged uneasy glances before nodding in agreement, understanding the need for solitude in such a vulnerable moment. With one last look of concern, they filed out of the room leaving you and Dally in a cocoon of quiet solidarity.
As Soda made to leave with them Dally stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. "Soda, wait," he said, his voice softer now, filled with urgency. "Get the first aid kit and a warm towel. We need to clean her up." Soda nodded in understanding, a determined look crossing his features as he hurried off to retrieve the supplies.
As Soda hurried off to retrieve the supplies, Dally turned his attention back to you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Hang in there, sweetheart," he said softly. His voice laced with reassurance as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "We'll get you patched up real quick."
You managed a weak smile. So grateful for his comforting words amidst the raging emotions swirling inside you. Despite the pain and the fear that still lingered there was a sense of relief knowing that you were in capable hands. You were being taken care of the boy who cared deeply for your well-being.
A knowing smile just ghosted over Soda's lips as he returned with the first aid kit and a warm towel. He was silently acknowledging the unspoken bond between you and Dally. He knew how much Dally had loved you for so long. And seeing the two of you together now filled him with a bittersweet sense of pride. He’d never seen Dallas so gentle.
With practiced efficiency, Dally and Soda set to work cleaning and dressing your wounds. Their movements gentle yet purposeful as they tended to each cut and bruise with care. Dally's hands were surprisingly gentle as he worked. A stark contrast to the roughness you had come to expect from him. However, even he wasn’t perfect. There was a moment when Dally accidentally pressed a little too hard on one of your bruises causing you to let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Instantly his expression shifted. A look of sadness crossing his features as he realized his mistake.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he murmured. His voice filled with genuine remorse as he gently pulled back, his hands hovering uncertainly over your injured skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be more careful, I promise."
You could see the sincerity in his eyes. It was layered with a depth of emotion you hadn't seen from him before. A stark reminder that beneath his tough exterior there was that vulnerability he tried so hard to conceal. You saw not just the pain and the regret in his eyes but also the profound sense of care and affection that he held for you.
"It's okay, Dally, really" you reassured him, your voice soft as you reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I know you didn't mean it. I’m so lucky to have you."
His gaze softened at your words. A small flicker of gratitude passing between you as you shared a moment of understanding. Despite the rough edges and the scars that marked his soul there was a gentleness to Dally that few ever got to see. A side of him that he reserved for those he held closest to his heart. A side that only seemed reserved for you.
With a nod of appreciation Dally resumed his careful ministrations. His touch lighter and more cautious than before. And as he worked to tend to your wounds with a renewed focus, you couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for the boy who had always been there for you. Always, no questions asked.
As Dally apologized profusely and you reassured him, Soda noticed the exchange between you two. Sensing the depth of emotion in the room he took a step back giving you and Dally a moment of privacy. There was that knowing look in Soda's eyes, an acknowledgment of the connection between you and Dally. With a subtle nod Soda retreated to give you both some space. His intuition telling him that this was a moment that needed to be shared between just the two of you. As he busied himself with tidying up the first aid supplies before exiting the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth fill his chest for the two of you.
Once Dally finished tending to your wounds with careful precision a flood of emotions washed over you. Threatening to overwhelm your fragile composure. The physical pain had subsided only to be replaced now by a tidal wave of raw emotion that surged through your veins like a raging river. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to contain the torrent of feelings that threatened to consume you. It wasn't just the pain of your injuries that brought you to tears, but the weight of everything you had endured, the fear, the loneliness, the relentless cycle of abuse that had plagued your life for so long.
You cried for your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. Your Johnny. You cried for the father who had betrayed your trust as his fists rained down upon you with a cruelty that knew no bounds. But most of all you cried for Dally, for his unexpected gentleness and the overwhelming sense of safety and comfort that he had provided in your darkest hour.
As you sat with Dally in the quiet intimacy of the room you felt a sense of release wash over you. A cathartic release of pent-up emotion that had been building inside you for far too long. And as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks you knew that you were not alone. That you were loved and cherished by the one person who had always been there for you, offering his unwavering support and understanding in the face of adversity.
As your tears flowed Dally's heart ached with a depth of emotion he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge before. Without hesitation, he shifted, pulling you fully onto his lap, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that was so different than his tough exterior. His arms wrapped around you protectively creating a safety that enveloped you both.
He rubbed soothing circles on your back. His touch a comforting reassurance of his unwavering support. In the quietness of the moment, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement. His voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room.
Feeling your sobs intensify he tightened his embrace. His hold on you was firm yet gentle as if trying to absorb some of the pain that wracked your body and soul. With each shuddering breath you took he squeezed you tighter. His touch was a silent reassurance that he was there for you. He would never let you face your demons alone.
"You're safe now, sweetheart," he murmured. His breath warm against your ear. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Let it out. I'm here for you."
His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not alone in your pain. With each gentle stroke of his hand against your back, he offered you solace and understanding, his touch a silent promise of his unwavering support.
"It's okay to cry," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room. "I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you again, I swear it."
His heart broke for you, for the girl he cared for more deeply than he dared to admit. In that moment, as he held you close, he wished he could take away all the pain and suffering you had endured, to shield you from the cruelties of the world with nothing more than his love.
As time passed your sobs gradually subsided leaving behind a lingering sense of emptiness and exhaustion. In the quiet aftermath of your tears, you took a shaky breath. Your chest still tight with emotion. Dally held you close.
Feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear you found solace in the warmth of his embrace. With a heavy sigh you finally found the strength to speak. Your voice trembling with the weight of the words you had kept buried deep within your heart.
"I miss him," you spoke. Your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke of your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. "I miss Johnny so much it hurts."
Tears welled up in your eyes once more, threatening to spill over as you thought of your brother who had been forced to run away. His pure innocence stolen by the cruelty of the world.
"I miss the way things used to be," you continued. Your voice filled with longing as you spoke of a time before your father's descent into darkness, before the alcohol and the violence tore your family apart. "I miss when my dad wasn't a drunk, when he was still my dad, you know?"
Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the innocence you had lost, of the life that seemed so distant and foreign now. In the safety of Dally's embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.
As you spoke of missing Johnny, Dally's embrace tightened. His arms offering you a sense of strength and stability amidst the chaos of your emotions. His voice was gentle as he responded. His words a quiet reassurance in the face of your pain.
"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "We all miss him. But you know Johnny, he's resourceful as hell. And with Pony by his side? Those two can handle anything."
There was a quiet conviction in Dally's voice. It was a steadfast belief in Johnny's resilience that offered you a glimmer of hope in the darkness. Despite the uncertainty of his fate, you found comfort in Dally's unwavering confidence. He was a reminder that you were not alone in your worries for your brother.
"And your dad..." Dally trailed off, his voice heavy with sympathy as he spoke of the man who had once been your protector, now reduced to a shadow of his former self. "He's not the man you remember, I know. But that ain't your fault, darlin'. None of this is."
His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not to blame for the sins of your father, that you deserved love and happiness just as much as anyone else. In the safety of his embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.
But even as the tears continued to fall, you knew that you were not alone. That Dally was there for you and always ready to offer his unwavering support and understanding in the face of your pain. As you clung to each other in the quiet darkness you found solace in the simple act of being together.
As your emotions opened you realized your love for him wasn't triggered by a simple moment. But rather by a complex series of events that had been building up over time. It was the culmination of countless conversations, shared moments, and lingering glances that had slowly but surely chipped away at the walls around your heart.
It started with the little things. Like the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh or the way he would brush a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that took your breath away. It was the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning, the whispered confessions and shared secrets that bound you together in ways you couldn't explain. But it was also the bigger moments. The ones that left you reeling with emotion and uncertainty. There was a time you called, and he showed up at your door in the middle of the night. No questions he was there as his face drawn and tired, and you knew without a doubt that he would always be there for you, no matter what.
As you looked into his eyes and saw the depth of his feelings reflected back at you, something shifted inside you. It was as if all the pieces fell into place like a puzzle finally coming together after years of searching. And in that moment, you knew. You knew that you couldn't keep it to yourself any longer, that you had to tell him how you felt, no matter the consequences.
So, you took a deep breath. Steeling yourself for what was to come, and you let the words spill from your lips in a rush of emotion. It was messy and imperfect, but it was real. It was true. And it was exactly what you needed to say.
"I... Dally, I just... I don't even know where to start," you began. Your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the right words. "But I can't keep it in any longer. I think... no, I know I... I love you. Like, really love you."
Your admission hung heavy in the air, a confession so raw and honest that it left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. But as you looked into Dally's eyes, filled with a mixture of surprise and tenderness, you knew that you had made the right decision to speak your truth.
"I know it sounds crazy," you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. "But it's true. You've always been there for me, through thick and thin. And it's not just because you're always there to clean up my messes or protect me from the world, although you do a damn good job of that. It's because... because I genuinely care about you, Dallas Winston. I care about you more than I ever thought possible. And it scares me sometimes, how much I care."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you bared your soul to him, laying your feelings bare for the world to see. But as you spoke, a sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you had finally spoken the words that had been weighing on your heart for so long.
"And I know it's a lot to take in," you concluded, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."
For a moment, the air felt thick with anticipation. The intensity of your confession hanging between you like a tangible thing. And then as if a switch had been flipped, the hardness in Dally's eyes melted away. Replaced by a warmth that seemed to radiate from deep within him.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth gradually blossoming into a grin that lit up his entire face. It was a grin like you'd never seen before. A grin that reached all the way to his eyes filling them with a light you hadn't realized was missing.
His fingers brushed gently against your tear-stained cheeks. His touch tender and affectionate as he cupped your face in his hands. There was a sense of wonder in his expression, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening, as if he had never dared to hope for this moment.
"Damn, sweetheart," he breathed. His voice tinged with awe. "I never knew you had it in you. Talking like that. But I'm glad you did. Because, hell, I love you too. I always have."
His words sent a rush of warmth through you. A feeling of elation that bubbled up from deep within your chest. And as you looked into his eyes, shining with a happiness you had never seen before, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, something real and true and utterly perfect.
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Exposure Therapy pt. 11
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader
Summary | Jon is so down bad it’s a little embarrassing tbh. Like this whole chapter is full of simp behavior but we love it.
Warnings | Ushy gushy nasty ass fluffy smut, kissing, hickeys, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, breeding, Jon is so fucking soft bro, mentions of rape and kidnapping, nightmares, comfort, idk what else tbh.
Words | 5.7k
Notes | Okay first of all, I’m so sorry it took so long 😭 Second, don’t come for me if his backstory is wrong. The internet says like a million different things so I just used my best judgment for what was right lol. Also I’m running out of gifs 😞
Ao3 link | <3
Fic Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Part 10
“Where are we going?” You asked as he led you through the dark streets, keeping a hand on the small of your back. He had you pack up everything in the duffel bag before leaving, not giving you any indication of where he was taking you.
“Quit asking, we’re almost there.” You rolled your eyes at that, but stayed silent. He had you enter what looked like an old, almost abandoned apartment building, then took you up two flights of stairs before going down the hall and stopping in front of a door. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a key, then opened it.
“Jon… What is this?” You don’t remember him mentioning anything about this. When you walked in, you examined the space in shock.
“It's yours— ours. I bought it for us… Kind of.”
“Kind of?” You asked, looking at him again.
“I threatened the landlord.” You scoffed a laugh and could feel your stomach flutter when he gave you a small smile.
“It came fully furnished?” You walked over to the bed and plopped down on it, closing your eyes and groaning at the feeling of a proper mattress.
“Most of the furniture, yes. But he was more than willing to include a mattress and some complimentary sheets and towels after our conversation.” You heard his footsteps growing closer but you kept your eyes shut, savoring the feeling. “Do you like it?” You finally opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him with a smile.
“I love it.” Suddenly hit with an idea, you leaned up on your elbows, then continued. “You know… You’ve never fucked me on an actual bed before.” You said with a small smirk.
“In that case, we’re going to be very busy.” He crawled over you and you fell onto your back again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders once his face was level with yours. “Because I’ve never fucked you on a kitchen table, a counter, or in the shower either.” Your cheeks heated up at the implication, despite the fact that you just made a similar remark.
“I guess we better get to it then.” You said, voice already embarrassingly breathless. He leaned down to kiss you, starting out slow and soft but quickly growing more rough and passionate. He kissed his way down your body, removing your clothes to expose more skin. Once he was at your hips, he laid down between your legs before continuing. He kissed from one thigh to the other, never going where you wanted him to. When you let out a needy whine and grabbed his hair, he laughed under his breath, but gave it to you anyway. He started with a light kiss on your clit, then licked a long stripe up your folds. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best to be patient, but failing anyway.
“Jon, please.” You whined, lightly tugging on his hair.
“Shh, be patient, little one.” He said softly. You whined again, but it cut off into a moan when leaned down to suck you clit into his mouth.
“Fuck— please..” You whimpered, pulling harder on his hair and letting your eyes flutter closed. A moan caught in your throat when he suddenly pushed a finger inside, immediately curling it against your walls, making your back arch as you pushed your hips down onto the stimulation. His movements were slow, but deliberate, carefully manipulating your body to bring you closer to the edge.
“Feel good?” He mumbled against you. You let out an embarrassing mewl as you nodded.
“Yes..” You said through a breath. “Jon.. need you.” You whined, making him pull up from your clit.
“You’re not ready yet,”
“I am— please.” You’re not. But you need him inside you already. His finger slowed to a stop and you watched him with furrowed brows, waiting.
“Can you wait just a little longer for me?” He asked softly, in that voice that makes you instantly melt and want to do whatever he says. You nodded with a pout and the corners of his lips turned up at your obedience. “Good girl.” He pushed another finger inside as he leaned back down to keep sucking and licking your clit.
You grabbed his free hand, intertwining your fingers before resting it on the bed, and as he looked up at you, you swore you felt him smile against you. When a third finger entered you, your grip tightened on his hand and you let out a quiet whimper. He focused more on stretching his fingers inside you now and even though it didn’t feel as good, you just had to remind yourself that it was getting you closer to him finally fucking you.
“Please.” You whined, gasping when he lightly bit your clit. You understood the warning though— be patient. ‘Just a little longer’ was turning out to be longer than you expected and you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. “Jon— Jon, wait..” You whimpered, pushing at his head now, rather than pulling him closer.
“Fuck— please, I want to come on your cock.” You whined. That made him finally pull back as he cursed under his breath. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and nodded, chest heaving as he panted.
He removed his clothes quickly and you waited eagerly, trying not to complain about how long it was taking even though it only took him barely a minute to fully undress. He crawled over you and brushed your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek.
“Say, please.” He said teasingly.
“Jon,” You whined, long and bratty. When he stayed silent, you huffed, then said, “please fuck me.”
“Good girl. Though I’m not sure I’m completely convinced.” You let out a low growl and used strength you didn’t know you had to roll both of you over so you were on top. He raised his brows, seemingly amused by your eagerness, and you ignored him as you lined yourself up with his cock. The smug expression left instantly when you sunk down, only stopping once your ass met his thighs.
“Say, please.” You smirked, watching his face contort with pleasure.
“Cute.” He said through a breath and you relaxed your legs so you were completely sitting on his lap, making both of you moan when you took him even deeper. You looked at him expectantly, watching as he rolled his eyes. When he reached for your hips, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed.
“C’mon, Jon. Say it.” Despite the fact that he huffed and rolled his eyes again, you could feel his cock twitch inside you. You didn’t want to push your luck though by telling him you knew he was enjoying the slight role reversal, so you just waited for his response. Eventually he let out a heavy breath, staring up at you.
“Please.” He muttered, making you grin.
“Good boy. Though I’m not sure I’m completely convinced.”
“Please.” He repeated, firmer this time, but still with attitude. Instead of responding, you started rocking your hips. His fists clenched where they were pinned to the bed and he tilted his head back as his eyes fell shut.
“Don’t be a tease.” He said, when you didn’t speed up.
“Why not? I like how you look like this.”
“Everything you do now, I’ll do ten times worse to you later.” He warned, making you smirk.
“I’m sure you will, Jon.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply before switching it up, starting to move up and down now, still maintaining the agonizingly slow pace. You let go of his wrists and placed your hands on his torso to stabilize yourself and help take some of the strain off your legs. His hands settled on your hips, but he barely grabbed you, just lightly rested them there.
After only a few minutes, your legs were starting to shake and you slowed to a stop as you caught your breath.
“Jon..” You whined with a pout.
“Yes, little one?” He asked coyly, making you frown.
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Take over already! My legs are giving out.” You laughed weakly, trying to play it off as a joke.
“Thought you said you like how I look like this?”
“I do, but— not the whole time.” You whined.
“You wanted to be on top, I’m giving you what you wanted.” He shrugged, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.
“Well now I want you to be on top!” If you weren’t so desperate, you would’ve been embarrassed by how whiny your voice sounded. “Jon, please, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered. He cooed mockingly and brought a hand up to cup your cheek.
“I know. And to think, if you would've been patient and not a greedy brat, you’d have what you want right now.”
“Please! I said I’m sorry, what more do you want?”
“Well I wouldn’t mind it if you’d start moving again.” He smirked, making your frown deepen.
“Please, I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson, Jon. I won’t do it again, I promise.” When he remained silent, waiting, you whined loudly. “That’s not fair!”
“Now you’re gonna throw a tantrum?” He chuckled, making your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment.
“Please, Jonny.” You whimpered as tears filled your eyes. He stared at you for a moment, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, his grip tightening on your hips.
“Jesus— fuck… You’re so fucking spoiled.” He swiftly turned you both over and you let out a startled moan when he immediately started rocking his hips, not going too fast yet. “I get you an apartment, an actual bed— and you can’t do the work for once?” Despite the fact that he was teasing, you still bit your lip and furrowed your brows, feeling bad.
“‘m sorry, Jonny.” You said meekly, averting your gaze.
“I know, little one. It’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and gently kissed your forehead, making your whole face heat up. “I know you can’t help it.” His thrusts sped up a little, rutting into you with more purpose now. “You get a cock in that pretty little cunt and you just get all dumb and come hungry.” You whined and turned your head away, embarrassed. With the side of your neck now bared to him, he leaned down, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin, being sure to leave marks. You were panting and moaning, pulling his hair as the pleasure consumed you. When he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, you mewled and tugged on the strands even harder.
“Fuck— Jon… please make me come.” You whimpered, hips grinding up into his hand. He trailed kisses up your neck to your jaw, then to your lips. You moaned into the kiss, clinging to him as he swallowed your sounds of desperation. “Please…” You whined against his lips, making him pull back just enough to look at you.
“So fucking spoiled.” He muttered, rubbing your clit faster and fucking you harder. “Ready?” He asked softly and you nodded with a whimper. “Go ahead, baby.” Almost as if on command— but also because of the still unfamiliar pet name— your orgasm finally crashed over you. His movements never faltered, letting you ride it out, and your whole body shook as you clung to him.
“Good girl.” He murmured, burying his face in the crook of your neck to trail kisses along the sensitive skin, making even more sounds leave you. Your walls tensed around his length, quickly growing overstimulated, but before it started hurting, he was letting out a choked moan and cursing under his breath. His hips stuttered before he finally pushed all the way inside, occasionally rutting into you. The stifled sounds that escaped him were sparking a new fire in your belly, but he was done after only a few seconds, much to your disappointment.
He let out a heavy breath and lifted his head to finally look at you with a small smile. Your heart fluttered at the light blush dusting his cheeks and the way that he looked at you. You quickly grew nervous under his gaze and glanced to the side.
“What?” You asked shyly and he shook his head, eyes moving all over your face.
“Nothing. I’m just…” He cut himself off, then his expression became more serious and you stared up at him, trying not to let your anxiety consume you. “I like being here with you.” Your eyes widened and your whole face heated up. Biting your lip, your gaze shifted between his eyes as you tried to come up with a response. But you could see that if you stayed silent any longer, he’d get closed off or distant.
“I like being here with you too.” You decided to say.
Your heavy eyes fluttered open, trying to adjust to the overhead light— even though the bulb was pretty dim— but the haziness left instantly when you heard a soft noise from beside you. Jon was still asleep, brows furrowed and lips in a frown, and he was writhing a little, muttering something you couldn’t understand. Placing a hand on his arm, you gently shook him as you called his name, but he didn’t wake up. So you shook a little harder and spoke a little louder.
He suddenly bolted up with a gasp and was panting as he frantically looked around the room. When you put your hand back on his arm, he quickly took it in a bruising grip and yanked it off of him, making you whimper in pain.
“Jon— Jon, it’s me.” You said through a wince, trying to remove yourself from his grip. He suddenly snapped out of it and his hand went lax, allowing you to pull your arm away. He looked confused almost. Confused, but definitely scared. “Are you okay?” You asked softly as you rubbed the sore skin.
“I’m fine.” He spat, trying to control his breathing as he looked anywhere other than you. You knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t bother asking.
“Do you want me to stay here with you? Or do you just want some space right now.” He almost seemed caught off guard by the question and he took a moment to respond.
“Stay.” He said it so quietly that if you weren’t waiting for his response, you probably wouldn't have heard it.
“Okay. Would you still like to lay together or would you rather I not touch you yet?”
“No- lay with me. Please.”
“I can do that.” You gave him a small smile that wasn’t returned as you laid back down, hugging his chest and letting him snake his arms around your torso. Once you were settled, he grabbed your hand and lifted it to examine the red mark on your arm.
“I'm sorry for hurting you.” He said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the sore skin.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have touched you when I didn’t know how you’d react.” You placed a soft kiss on his chest in return. “Do you want to talk about something to get your mind off it?”
“You’re not curious?” He sounded tired.
“I am. But my curiosity is not more important than your comfort.”
“Oh… Thank you.” He muttered, bringing your hand back down but intertwining his fingers with yours.
“When’s the last time you laid with someone after having a bad dream?” You had a sneaking suspicion that his answer would give you all the explanation you need for why he acted this way.
“Never.” Even as a child? You wanted to ask. But deep down you already knew the answer. Even without a psych degree it wasn’t too hard to deduce that most of his issues more than likely stemmed from his childhood.
You tried to think of a response. Pity would just make him upset so an apology was out of the questuon. Should you joke about it to lighten the mood? Probably not the best idea… Ignore it and change the subject? You didn’t want to give him the impression that you don’t care though.
“As long as you’ll let me, I’ll always be here when you wake up.” You decided to say. “If you want me to be.”
“Why?” He croaked, tone full of an unusual amount of emotion.
“Because I— I… care.. about you. And I have a feeling you’d do the same for me.” You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant and not like you almost just confessed again.
“I would do the same.” He confirmed, making the corners of your lips turn up. You wanted to tease him- call him a softie, maybe make a joke about how it’s obvious that he cares about you despite the warning he gave you, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying something that would embarrass him.
“It’s settled then. Next time either of us has a nightmare, the other will be there.” He let out a soft, breathy laugh in response and started rubbing light circles on your hand with his thumb.
“Do you have nightmares?” You tried not to noticeably stiffen at the question.
“No.” You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Are you lying?” You could tell by his tone that he was genuinely asking.
“I haven’t had one in a while so not really.” Technically that’s the truth. But you left out the part about how you frequently had nightmares over the past few weeks.
“Since when?”
“Jon, it doesn’t really matter, okay?” He stayed silent and you fought the urge to look up at him.
“In Arkham?” He asked quietly.
“What?”
“You had them in Arkham?” He clarified and you grew nervous.
“And before.” That is also technically not a lie… You did have the occasional nightmare or two. When he remained silent again, your stomach churned. He’s probably going to start his whole “you have stockholm syndrome and don’t actually like me” rant again and you really don’t want to listen to that a second time.
“I haven’t had one since we left. Honestly, it’s fine.”
“About what?”
“Jon,”
“About what?” He said, more stern this time.
“I’m not going to play into this and let you torture yourself.” You finally leaned up to look at him, finding his brows furrowed and lips curled into a frown.
“You don’t need to. You not telling me is a pretty clear answer.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes and when he swallowed, your gaze shifted to the movement of his throat before going back up to his face.
“Jon, please don’t do this again. Can’t we just… lay here together— and be happy?” He finally looked at you with an expression that was a mixture of disbelief, pity, and disapproval. “Please.” He looked away from you again and you watched his cheek tense as he clenched his jaw. When he started to slowly shake his head, you placed your free hand on his cheek, trying to stop him.
“I don’t care about any of that! Why can’t you do the same?” You said, exacerbated.
“You should!” His voice was much louder now, almost startling you, but you held your ground.
“Well I don’t! I care about the fact that you’ll lay with me after I have a nightmare and that you call me stupid names you hate just because I like it.” He kept shaking his head so you continued. “I care about the fact that you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, that you value my comfort enough to go out of your way to get this place.” You paused, taking in a deep breath, trying to ignore how scared you were for how this conversation would end.
“And I care about the fact that you care about me. Nothing else matters to me, Jon.” You said softly.
“I gave you nightmares for weeks— I hurt you. I…” He let out a shaky breath, clenching his jaw to suppress the emotion that was starting to show. “I don’t know w— I just… I wanted you to myself.” He all but whimpered, making you frown. You mulled his words over in your head, trying to think of the best way to approach this.
“What if you do something to make up for it?” Honestly you didn’t think this would work, but you also had a feeling that he’d think being vulnerable with you could help push him in the right direction.
“How could I possibly make up for raping and kidnapping you?” He scoffed, frown deepening.
“You already have. But if it’s not enough, then why don’t you tell me about yourself?” You said, purposefully ignoring his word choice.
“What?” He asked through a breath.
“Tell me about your childhood, what made you decide on this career, your family, friends.” You shrugged, just trying to give him ideas. Honestly you didn’t need to know any of this. Sure, you’re curious, but you’re fine without knowing. This was just the best thing you could come up with because you genuinely didn’t need him to do anything, but you knew he wouldn’t let it go.
“That will… make up for it?” He seemed equal parts solicitous and apprehensive.
“You don’t have to, it was just a thought.”
“That’s what you want?” He was still unsure and you started to feel bad for guilting him into this.
“No, I just— I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pressure you like that. As I said, you don’t have to make up for anything, Jon. I mean it.” You could tell he didn’t believe you though. He didn’t speak as he examined your face, searching for anything to back up his suspicion that you were lying and you really did care. Eventually he just looked away from you with a small frown, thinking.
You didn’t know what else to do to convince him or make him get over it. Sure he did those things to you, but you know your feelings are real because you had them when he was just your therapist. They weren’t as strong as they are now, back then it was just a little crush on the handsome doctor. You admired his intelligence and thought he was effortlessly funny, even though it didn’t seem like he realized it.
“My father was a doctor.” He said quietly, making your focus snap back to him.
“What?” It took you a moment to realize why he would’ve randomly said that.
“He was a doctor and he primarily studied fear.” Already your stomach was twisting at the thought of where this was going. “He didn’t have any test subjects though… So he used me.” He shrugged slightly and your lips parted in shock. Even though you expected this, you still hoped you’d be wrong.
“A few years later when I was a teenager,” His father did that to him when he was just a child? The thought made your chest ache even more. “I realized that if I could control fear, it would never be able to control me again.” The final piece to the puzzle that was Jonathan Crane.
“The rest of my family wasn’t much better and I didn’t have any friends. Was there anything else I missed?” You blinked in shock, still trying to process all of this while simultaneously trying to come up with a response that wasn’t pity.
“Honestly I wasn’t expecting your response to give me an actual explanation for why you are the way that you are, but it did. To a tee.”
“You’re satisfied then?”
“Well I’m a little sad to be honest but other than that yeah.” His brows furrowed in confusion and it truly baffled you how someone with a psych degree couldn’t understand your feelings. “Not that it wasn’t before, but all is forgiven now. Plus you’d be surprised how many good people only do bad things because of emotional and physical neglect and abuse so how can I even really fault you for any of that?” You shrugged.
“Since when are you the psychologist?” He asked teasingly, his frown slowly lifting into a small smile.
“I’ve watched enough Criminal Minds to know that.”
“Criminal Minds?”
“You haven’t watched that show?” You asked in disbelief.
“I don’t watch tv.” He said simply and you gaped at him for a few seconds.
“That might be the saddest thing you’ve said so far.” You feigned seriousness, but couldn’t hold in your laugh when his smile grew.
“We can watch it if you’d like.”
“God no— There are like 15 seasons and plus, I don’t even know if you’d like it.”
“15? Why do they need so many?”
“I don’t know, it’s a popular show.” You shrugged. “Also I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but we don’t exactly have something to watch tv on.”
“I’m aware. I’d buy you something.”
“Or you could use your charm and get them to ‘donate’ it.”
“I don’t think I’m a very good influence on you, little girl.” He said teasingly, but your cheeks heated up from his words.
“What can I say? I want a tv. I haven’t watched anything in weeks.”
“Is there anything else I can get you, princess?” Your eyes widened at the new name as you choked on your spit, making his smile turn into a smirk. Even though he was mocking you, the name still made arousal pool in your stomach.
“Um… I- I don’t… No?” You replied, unsure.
“There’s nothing else you want?” You bit your lip and shook your head, the fire in your face not calming down.
“What about a book?”
“A vibrator?” You said at the same time as him, making his brows shoot up before he let out a loud laugh.
“A vibrator? Do I not satisfy you, little one?”
“N-no! You do! I just- it was stupid… sorry.” You mumbled, turning your face away from him.
“Hm?” He gently guided your head back to face him and you let out an embarrassed whine, not wanting to continue.
“It’s just different.” You muttered, flushing down to your chest now.
“I see… Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that, especially when I’m so excited to watch you use it.” You choked on a gasp as your eyes widened. “When we get up I’ll give you some paper. Write a list of anything and everything you want. I’m sure the landlord will be more than happy to help us out.”
“Are you crazy?! I’m not having the landlord buy a fucking vibrator.” You scoffed in disbelief, trying to mask your embarrassment.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
He didn’t respond. Instead you just laid and talked a while longer, had a quickie, then got up to be at least a little productive. He had you write down the rest of the list to give to the landlord, then a few hours after the sun had set, he was taking you somewhere.
“Are you sure we should be out in the open like this?” You asked, checking over your shoulder again.
“No one should see us. Even if they do, they wouldn’t bother calling the cops.”
“But what about the vigilante?”
“If he shows up, then you run. Do you understand?”
“I’m not just going to leave you.” You scoffed making him stop and turn fully toward you.
“I will not tell you again. If he shows up, you run.” He said sternly, making you cross your arms over your chest. You could only maintain eye contact for a few seconds before huffing and looking away. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” You muttered, rolling your eyes.
“Good girl. Now hurry up, we’re almost there.” You only walked another two blocks before he was leading you in a store, making your eyes widen as you took in the contents.
“What,”
“You said you wanted a vibrator.”
“I- I know, but— this is a sex shop.” You said weakly, the statement sounding more like a question.
“Did you have somewhere else in mind to buy it?” He teased, making your blush intensify. Once he realized you wouldn’t be able to respond, he placed a hand on the small your back and guided you to the vibrator section. You stood there, staring at the various toys and blushing all the way down to your chest.
“Which one would you prefer?” He turned to you but you kept your eyes forward, too nervous to face him. You knew which one you wanted… but you were too embarrassed to tell him. “Think about it. I’m going to grab a basket.”
“A basket?” You asked as you turned to him, eyes widening even more, but he was already walking back toward the entrance. You stared at the various types and sizes, but your eyes kept drifting to a wand that was really similar to one you used to have.
“Have you decided?” You jumped at his voice, not having heard him approach.
“Um… That one I guess?” You said, pointing to it. He grabbed it and put it in the basket.
“Any other ones?” You shook your head, biting your lip and trying not to get too overwhelmed from the embarrassment.
“Okay. What else would you like?” You hummed in thought and walked around the store with him trailing behind you. Once you saw the lube, you paused in front of it and looked at him questioningly. “You want to try that again? It probably won’t feel as good as it did before.”
“I still want to. If you do.” Instead of responding, he reached for the bottle and placed it in the basket, then you were moving on.
The collars caught your attention, but you tried to act nonchalant as you made your way toward them. You eyed them longingly, but passed them by, too embarrassed— even after already adding lube and a vibrator to the basket.
“Wait.” He suddenly said, making you stop and internally applaud yourself.
“What?” You asked once you were facing him.
“I want a collar.” He glanced at the shelf before looking at you again.
“Aw, Jon, you want to wear a collar?” You smirked and he stared at you with a deadpan expression.
“Cute. But let’s not pretend like your cunt isn’t aching at the thought of me leading you around by a leash.” Your smirk slowly dropped, but he wasn’t done teasing you yet. “I think we should get a name tag for it too, don’t you?” Your eyes widened at his words, suddenly feeling shy again.
“Shut up.” You muttered, looking away from him with a blush. You examined the different collars, trying to pick one. “Can I get more than one?”
“I’ll buy the entire store if that’s what you want.” Your blush intensified and you were completely caught off guard by the admission.
Unable to respond, you just reached for a plain, black o-ring collar and tossed it in the cart, along with the matching leash. Next, you decided on the daintier, light pink choker. This one was lace and silk and had a small bow in the center.
Walking around the store, you grabbed a few more things; metal handcuffs, a butt plug, candles and a lighter, and nipple clamps. When you got to the impact play section, you faltered. You weren’t lying when you told him you like being spanked. But when you look at a paddle, all you can think about is what followed after the last time he used one with you.
“We can get one, but we don’t have to use it until you’re ready.” He said softly. You silently grabbed a paddle and placed it in the basket, only hesitating for a brief moment.
“Can we look at the clothes?” You asked, changing the subject. He agreed and you walked across the store then looked through the different racks. “You were a professor right?”
“Yes.” You pulled out the tiny white, button down crop top and the even tinier, plaid skirt to hold against your body.
“I’m not doing well in your class, professor. Is there something I can do to help my grade? I’ll do anything.” You said in an exaggerated seductive tone. He rolled his eyes but you could see the faint blush on his cheeks. “You’re totally into that aren’t you?”
“It’s tolerable.” So he is… Good to know.
It almost felt like you had an inside joke with him now and you smiled at the thought as you placed the outfit into the basket. You continued searching through the racks of clothes, almost giving up, but one item caught your attention. It was a pink babydoll dress with lace cups and a silk skirt. Fucking adorable. And it matched the choker too. You placed it in the basket and were about to walk away when he stopped you.
“Wait. That one too.” He pointed to a red, lace bodysuit, so you chuckled and found your size before adding it to the almost overflowing basket.
The walk home was uneventful. Jon wouldn’t let you carry any of the bags even though all of it was your stuff. The second you were inside the apartment and he locked the door, you threw yourself into his arms and kissed him. He grunted in surprise before reciprocating. When you pulled back, he tried to move forward, not wanting the kiss to be over yet.
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It was as much a gift for you as it was for me.”
“Yeah, but still. I appreciate it. My ex never wanted anything to do with any kind of sex toy so it’s refreshing to be with a secure man.” You gave him a small smile, but stiffened once you realized what you said. “Not that I’m with you— I mean I’m technically with you physically right now, but” He kissed you softly, cutting off your rambling.
“You are mine— no one else’s. Which means you’re with me.”
“I don’t know… You haven’t even asked me out yet. Saying I'm with you seems like a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
“Oh so now you care about labels?”
“Maybe.” You shrugged.
“Fine. Go out with me, little one. Be mine and mine alone.” He pleaded, making your heart flutter. “Let me be yours.” You bit your lip to hide the love sick grin that was growing. When you nodded eagerly, he almost returned the expression.
Part 12
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#jonathan crane x reader smut#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#scarecrow x reader smut#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow#exposure therapy
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There For Me (Harley Quinn X Batsis!Reader)
Characters: Harley Quinn X Batsis!Reader, Batfam X Batsis!Reader
Universe: DC, Batman
Warnings: Unhealthy family relationships (Parentification) Mild mention of a past abusive relationship (Harley & Joker) Mention of stalking, mention of death
Request: A bruce wayne and daughter, she is an adult. Mainly responsible for her siblings. She is sick of being the responible one. She is really good friends with harley and ivy and they take her in. She is secrectly dating harley. Batman comes too take her back but she tells him she is very happy and harley protects her girlfriend. Bruce accepts and lets them be.
Notes: Kind of strayed from the request near the end, I kind of got carried away with this lol
Ever since you were a child, you were well aware that your relationship and role within your family was different to a lot of other families. It wasn’t the norm by any sense, even for Gotham. Your mom was never in the picture, leaving you in the hospital you were born in with a note about where to find your dad, and after a test to confirm it, you were sent to live with your dad, who at the time was the opposite of responsible, and was a mess still, if the whole getting a woman pregnant who then left you without a second thought wasn’t something to go by. It was no surprise that Alfred ended up being your actual primary caregiver for your early years. That, and the whole secret life as Batman he actually had the foresight to know it was best you didn’t know about.
You found out when you were 10, coming down in the middle of the night for something to drink after a nightmare, finding your dad badly beaten and barely conscious in the kitchen, also looking for something to drink. You stared at each other for a moment in horror, but after a moment, you swallowed, grabbing a cup, getting some cold water, and went back to bed without a word. Bruce told Alfred what happened, and Alfred explained everything after school the next day. That day changed a lot for you. You realised partly why your dad was almost always absent, that Alfred was helping him keep your city safe, and that anytime you needed help with something was basically time taken away from Alfred that he could be spending making sure your dad wasn’t bleeding out somewhere or in need of help. As soon as you got home that day, you immediately began the process of becoming as independent as possible.
By the time your dad brought Dick home, you were entirely independent, but also very emotionally cut off from your dad and Alfred. You didn’t interact with Dick for a few days until he was up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare, and you came down as well, fixing a snack to share and then going back up to his room to keep him occupied till he was ready to go back to bed. It was after that point that Dick started to open up a bit more, especially with you. After Dick had grown into an adult and you two spent a night off drinking and catching up, he admitted to you that when he first joined the family, he wasn’t sure on what your role was in it, thinking maybe you were a recent adoptee as well and just weren’t adjusting well, and it took over a month for him to realise you were Bruce’s biological kid.
When Jason arrived, you already had a rough idea of what to do as your role as a big sister to dysfunctional traumatised little brothers, though Jason’s anger issues did make it a bit more difficult to bond with him. However, you quickly found that if you challenged his own anger with your silent resentment and frustration with your dad for not actually doing what a dad is supposed to, you two would actually bond over your frustrations, cause a bit of havoc together to blow of some steam.
Jason exposed you to two things. One, he showed you that you had every right to be more angry with Bruce about the fact that you had to raise yourself and now the kids he was bringing into the manor than you are. Two, it was because of you two causing a bit of mischief that you met Harley Quinn.
You had been doing some art outside to release some of your emotions in a healthy way, or as Bruce would call it, Vandalism in the form of graffiti, when you heard police sirens, and you both scattered to get away from the scene, getting separated and you ended up on the bad side of town, and was just trying to find a safe route home without having to call anyone, especially Bruce or Alfred, for help, and hoping that Jason was okay. Unfortunately, you ended up crossing paths with a group of business students, who decided to catcall, harass, and after you ignored them completely, decided to start following you. Fortunately, it was then that you took a sharp turn to try and lose them and bumped right into Harley, who was with her own posse of goons. You two stared at each other for no longer than a second, and in that second, you two had entire conversation purely through your eyes. Then she heard the men behind you, far enough away to not see who you had bumped into to realise they should run, but close enough for Harley to hear them laugh and tell the men surrounding her to grab you for them. He face contorted to anger for a moment.
“They bothering you?” She asked shortly, and you nodded, honestly scared to mutter a word. She took your arm, pulling you behind her. “Boys, time to teach these men some manners!” She ordered, and in a matter of seconds, Harley’s goons were chasing the men down the street and out of sight. You couldn’t help the small laugh that left your mouth at the sight. “You alright? Did they grab ya?”
“No- no, they were just being creeps. Thanks.” You told her as she turned back to you, the streetlamp now lighting up your face better, and she was able to see your face clearer, and also now actually identify you, and you saw her eyes widen and realised she knew who you were.
“Aren’t you Wayne’s daughter? What you doing out here? I’m sure daddy wouldn’t approve of you being out here.” She stated, hands on her hips, almost motherly, which was funny considering that you weren’t even a teenager anymore, now a young woman in your early twenties, only about 5-6 years younger than Harley.
“I was supposed to be supervising my little brother while he released some stress in some street art.” You told her. She arched an eyebrow.
“You and the younger Wayne were doing vandalism?” She clarified, and she saw the twinge of a smirk on your face before you tucked it back, and she grinned. “I like you, little trouble maker! Where’s your brother now?”
“I don’t know, honestly. We heard sirens nearby and scattered. He’s a lot more street smart than me though- obviously.” You said, gesturing down the street to the incident Harley just prevented.
“Why not call your dad?” She asked, and you couldn’t help the loud and quick laugh that left you, which told her a lot. “You two… not close?”
“No… never were, honestly… I uh, I’ve always looked after myself, and these days I’m looking after my adoptive siblings. Bruce isn’t good with the whole kids having emotions things, so I’m trying to help Jason get his anger out in ways that don’t involve needing first aid kits constantly stocked up.” You explained to her, hands in your pockets, rocking back and forth, finding it hard to stand still. You had no clue why you were admitting all this to Harley, especially since she was literally an enemy of your dad, but the way she had immediately defended you, and was taking the time to listen to you made you feel safe with her.
“That sucks, toots… you must be pretty lonely… say, if you ever find yourself back out here or just want a call or something and rant, call this number, okay? I might not answer right away, this is kind of a private cell, so don’t tell anyone, but I’ll get back to you, okay?” She said, plucking a gel pen from a pocket of her loud chequered jacket, grabbing your arm to pull your hand out your pocket and noting down a number on your palm. When she was done, she tucked it back into her pocket. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the edge of the nicer part of town, okay?” She said, wrapping her arm in yours and pulling you along with her. She did as she said, walking you to a safer part of town, reminding you to call her if needed (also if you couldn’t find Jason so she could look for him for you) and you parted ways.
She was the one you ended up calling when Jason was killed.
You didn’t talk to anyone for over a month after his death, other than the odd text to Dick to respond to him or to just make sure he was alright, but one night when things were really bad for you- your dad basically nearly killing himself every night, Alfred locked up in the cave trying to prevent him from actually dying, Dick away doing his own thing after arguing with Bruce, you were entirely alone in your mourning, completely lost in what you’re supposed to do next. You had no little brother to keep your mind busy with worrying and caring for, no one to make you feel needed. No one to make you feel wanted. You were completely alone.
You had called her as a last ditch effort, seeing no harm in at least trying, remembering she was once a psychiatrist. And sure, she was once affiliated with the Joker, but she had distanced herself from him, clearly a victim herself, and had been keeping a low profile ever since. You weren’t even sure she would pick up, probably changing her number, but she did pick up. “Hello?”
“Harley?” You asked in a whisper. “This is… um, it’s Y/N. Wayne… you um, helped me out a while ago with some creeps, gave me this number…” You recollected to her.
“I remember… heard about your brother… Not gonna say sorry, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard it a billion times and I’m probably a person you don’t wanna hear it from… you doing okay?”
“Not really…” You admitted, sniffling. “I’m not doing good… I know you said to call if I needed help with something… I just… I’m alone and I don’t want to be. Is there somewhere we can just meet even if it’s just for an hour?” You asked.
“Yeah of course!” You weren’t honestly expecting her immediate agreement. “We can have a girl’s night, me, you, and Ivy- I’ve been staying with her for a while now, I’m sure she won’t mind! Where do you want to meet?”
You met her a few blocks away, and she walked with you to a small one bedroom apartment where Ivy was waiting already, lounged on the cramped couch. She didn’t ask questions as Harley introduced you as Bruce Wayne’s daughter, who was in need of some TLC after everything that happened with Jason, in fact the only questions she asked was “Do you want to get wasted or hold onto the pillow of emotions and tell us all about it?”
“The pillow of emotions?” You asked, and she held up the pillow right next to her- a blanket, that even in the dim lighting you could tell was as soft as a childhood teddy, the perfect size and shape to squeeze tightly as you cried your eyes out. You pointed to it, and she handed it over, and it wasn’t long till you were on the couch next to Ivy, Harley sat on the floor, both women listening and nodding along as you hugged the pillow, sobbing and ranting about everything. From you basically being raised by Alfred, to you being more like a mother than a sister to Dick and Jason despite not even being that much older than Dick, and how because of that, you felt like a failure when Jason died, like you failed at being his protector, and how now you were all alone- Dick doing his own thing, your dad acting like Jason never even existed, and Alfred being too busy making sure your dad was actually caring for himself to notice you might even need help.
Honestly, a part of you expected these women, who themselves had been through hell and way worse than you, to roll their eyes, point out how you had daddy’s money to buy a therapist and figure it out yourself, but they didn’t. In fact in the end, when you finally got it all off your chest, both wrapped you in their arms, promising you that they were there, that they cared, and that this apartment always had space for you if you ever wanted to get away. You found yourself there at least once a week. When Bruce brought Tim home, you fluctuated between spending almost every day there or being at home keeping an eye and trying to care for the new brother, until Tim expressed his independence and you went back to spending more time with the girls.
5 years after Jason’s death, a lot of things changed.
One, your friendship with Harley became more than a friendship, and you three mutually agreed that it was time for an upgrade in apartment, and you officially moved out, creating much more distance between yourself and your dad, though with Tim around and Bruce now getting more of a grip on his self-destructive behaviours, you were able to call and come visit Alfred, Tim and Dick who had moved back in on occasion, though you now mostly interacted with Dick and Tim (who had warmed up to you a lot more) outside of the manor.
Two, Jason came back. It was shocking for everyone involved, especially since he was full to the brim of rage and fury, especially against Bruce. He worked with Scarecrow to poison the entire city, and the second you heard it was him through Dick, you tried to leave the safety of the apartment that you had promised your girlfriend you wouldn’t leave to try and find him, only for Ivy to find you quickly, seeing you in a panic and trying to run into the city without anyway to protect yourself, and in fear that you’d been affected by the fear toxin, she sedated you herself until it was all over and hopefully the toxin had left your body. When she woke you up with Harley there, your immediate question was if Jason was okay. Harley thought you were having issues with your memory due to the sedation and the toxin, but after talking with you for longer, explaining the call you had gotten from Dick, and also letting slip that your family was also the bat family, and that Jason was the Robin that had been killed, the girls gave you the rundown of what they knew. Bruce was alive. Dick and Tim were alive, and the Arkham Knight, who was apparently Jason, had disappeared, not confirmed alive or dead. Harley escorted you back to the manor to get answers on what happened, and to try and get in contact with Jason. You got confirmation that he was alive, but was still pissed off at Bruce and was not contacting the family for the time being.
That didn’t sit right with you. So you went out into the city to one of the places you two would hang around, mess around, graffiti, where you’d complain about Bruce together, and had the best time of your lives. And you waited. And waited. You ignored all your phone calls and texts, simply dropping a text to Harley promising you’d be home soon and you were alright before turning your phone off, and waited more. When the air started to become too nippy for you as you continued to pace in the small snicket, head low, arms crossed and noticing you could see your breath now, you finally thought about leaving. Giving up for now, trying another day or another technique. It was then you felt something heavy drop on your shoulders, and someone pat you on the back. You looked up, startled at the tall man beside you, but even more so at his features that you could recognize instantly. “Jason?” You asked, getting a faint smile from him. That was all you needed, pulling the man into a tight hug, his heavy leather jacket nearly falling off your shoulders.
You caught up with Jason. You told him how you’d moved out of the manor, how no one in the family actually knew where you lived, and you let the cat out the bag about your roommates being Ivy and Harley, who was actually your girlfriend, and how you met Harley that night where you two got separated in the city, and how she was the one you came to when he died. In classic Jason style, he was far more angry over the fact that Bruce totally left you alone to mourn him and you had to turn to another victim of Joker’s for comfort than you living with two criminals and dating one. In fact, he warmed up pretty quickly to it, knowing they at least can protect you ‘unlike Bruce’. He walked you home, promising to be in touch. You went inside, seeing Harley beside herself with worry, and after her throwing herself at you to hold you close and make sure you were alright, you told her everything, and after Jason and you got a form of communication, Harley and Ivy gave Jason the thumbs up to be allowed into the girl cave, the only real rule being to not tell Bruce or the others about the living arrangement in any way, which was easy enough.
For a while, things were tense but working in the Wayne family. Jason was still limited to no contact with Bruce, only talking to Dick on occasion when they ran into each other, but almost all contact between them was through you, which resulted in you having more contact with Bruce, though things were still incredibly tense between you two, so often Dick and Tim became a filter for you both, which you despised. Still, the boys would always called you when they needed you, and so it was them who called you to let you know that Bruce had another child- this one biologically his. Your half brother. Damian.
You let yourself into the manor, quickly rushing down into the cave to hear everyone bickering, Dick and your now youngest brother in the midst of a fight, though when Bruce spotted you and called your name, they stopped and looked at you. Damian stepped towards you, and Dick immediately held one of his Escrima sticks in front of him to stop him, and Tim stepped forward to be in front of you slightly, telling you that those two didn’t trust him to not hurt you. You patted Tim on the shoulder to tell him it was alright before stepping around him, and then you looked at Dick. “Put it away.” You told him. He did as told, though hesitantly. Damian remained still, though he glared at you. You showed him the palms of your hands casually. “No weapons on me, other than a taser, but that’s for creeps in the street.” You told him.
“Who are you?” He demanded. “Another stray my father picked up off the streets?” Ah. Volatile, lashing out, not caring about hurting feelings. Reminded you of a certain someone…
“In a way, I guess. I’m your sister. Your half sister. Biologically related.” You explained, nodding your head in your father’s direction, who was stood off to the side. His eyes widened, before his eyebrows knitted together and his frown deepended.
“I wasn’t aware father had an older child.”
“Yeah, he had me pretty young, and I’ve mostly been out of the spotlight- I like keeping a low profile.” You explained to him, stepping forward casually. “I always joked that father dearest never wanted a girl and always wanted to only have boys- why he had Dick, Tim and Jason, so hopefully now you’re here, I don’t have to worry about raising anymore boys on his behalf.” You joked, offering a hand to him. You felt Dick and Tim tense at your action and proximity. Damian stared at your hand, then back at you, before taking your hand and you shaked it with a smile. “Welcome to the family, Damian. I’m Y/N, the eldest Wayne sibling, and your big sister. If you need anything, anything at all, you call for me, okay? I’ll be there.”
You kept that promise to him, like you had the boys. He didn’t call you or contact you for a good few months. He only really interacted with you when either Bruce, Alfred or one of the other boys called for you and you went to the manor to negotiate, or to meet one of them on patrol to talk, and he was tagging along with them because Bruce didn’t trust him alone, but he witnessed his ‘brothers’ call you the second they had a problem, especially at home with Bruce, and every time you picked up, arranged to meet them, and came over. At first he hated how you got into fights with Bruce, especially when advocating for Jason, but when he realised that you were doing it on the boys behalf, especially when you got into a fight with Bruce for him regarding his grades and getting calls from teachers, he finally asked Dick for your phone number, and he asked to speak with you while he was on patrol. You agreed, arranging to meet him nearby.
“You okay Damian?” You asked as soon as you saw him in the snicket. He nodded, not saying anything at first. “You haven’t ever called me before, so something big must have happened.”
“Why do you fight for me and the others on our behalf to father?” He asked bluntly. You stared surprised for a moment, before walking closer to him.
“I don’t have a good relationship with…father. Never have, and I’ve accepted I’ll probably never will. A long time ago, I just kept my mouth shut, let him ignore my existence despite living in the same building, and I was mostly alone. The Dick came along, and he was far more present for him than he ever was for me, but still, he wasn’t… there, there. He was still lacking, mostly emotionally, and I found myself just… filling the gap. Making up where he missed the mark. I looked after Dick when he was going through mourning of his parents, I was the one who helped Jason get some of his anger out, I was the only one who accepted Tim into the family from the get-go… I’m the one the boys call when they need help. Not Bruce… My girlfriend- don’t tell dad about her- is a psychiatrist, and she calls it parentification. It’s when a child, often the oldest, takes on a role similar to that of a parent, caring for younger siblings, and at times, the parents themselves. It complicates relationships between the younger ones and the eldest as well- like you boys turning to me rather than Bruce when you have issues. It usually damages the relationships in the family later on.” You explained to him.
“Do you resent father for doing that?” He asked. You knew you couldn’t lie to Damian- he wasn’t naive by any sense, and you guessed he’d tell you were lying.
“Honestly? Yes. Absolutely. I didn’t have a childhood, and I had to grow up quickly to care for the boys he chose to have.”
“Do you resent Dick, Jason and Tim? Do you resent me? You said yourself you think he only wanted boys, and while I’m biologically his like you, he’s present for me like he was Dick.” He inquired. You stepped even closer till you were both straining your necks to meet eye contact. You reached out, holding his face with your hands, warming his cheeks with your calms.
“Never… Those few years before Dick came home… were some of the worst years of my life. I was… so alone. When you boys showed up, I wasn’t alone anymore. I had purpose, something to keep me busy. Whenever I get a text from Jason complaining about Bruce, or Dick asking me to stop by, or simply Tim asking to get him coffee… I don’t mind, because they need me, and they trust me, and they love me, and I love them. They’re my brothers. Your my youngest brother, and I love you unconditionally, okay?” You promised him, and he nodded, before stepping back, turning on his heel, and going to leave the alley, before he paused, turning and looking over his shoulder at you.
“I won’t tell father about your girlfriend… Does anyone else know?”
“Only Jason. I don’t trust the others to not freak out about her, especially Bruce.” You told him. He nodded, and carried on his way. He started to text you from time to time like Jason did. Short and blunt. He never told you straight out he loved you- Dick said it all the time when saying goodbye, Jason said it on occasion, usually concealing it with sentences, Tim said it usually in the middle of the compliment, but never Damian. Instead he would simply text you ‘hope you’re safe’ at the end of the beginning of a conversation. When you realised that was him saying he loved you, you realised he said it the most out of the boys.
More time passed, things were going good in your family if you ignored Bruce, and things were going extremely well with you and Harley. You were both now looking for a new place to live away from Ivy- her idea, she was planning to move in with Selina. However, the move was postponed when signs of Joker being near your current apartment started to show up, and Harley became anxious, and with very good reason. You hurriedly moved Harley and Ivy into Selina’s apartment and you temporarily moved back into the manor. Just in time it seemed- your old apartment complex was the victim of arson, the substances used to light the fire making it burn green. It was obvious who set it.
Jason heard first, rushing to the manor, ignoring Bruce’s calls to come and find you, holding you tightly, relieved that you were safe, before he explained what had happened, and that it was an attack by Joker. He said that, in front of not only Bruce, but all your other brothers. They all, including Bruce, freaked out.
“Joker targetted you?!” Dick freaked out.
“No he-”
“You’re staying at a safehouse for now, alright? We’ll fit it up and make it homely.” Tim decided.
“No, that’s not needed-”
“Y/N, you’re in danger, you can’t leave our sight.” Bruce ordered.
“He wasn’t targeting me!” You snapped, making them all stop. “He wasn’t targeting me. He was targeting my roommate… my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend?” Bruce asked.
“Why?” Damian asked. You glanced at Jason anxiously, the only person who knew all the details. He instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, ready to put himself between you and everyone else if they tried anything, and get you out of there in a timely fashion if necessary.
“My girlfriend is Harley. Quinn. We’ve been dating for a few years.” You admitted. Everyone stood stiff for a moment.
“What?!” Bruce finally snapped, moving forward. Jason immediately held his arm out, pulling you behind him.
“You stay the fuck away from my sister, Bruce.” He glared.
“You knew?” Tim asked at Jason.
“I did too.” Damian spoke up, trying to show solidarity with you and Jason, jumping to be beside you as well. “I didn’t know it was Harley, but from what she’s told me, she treats her well and loves Y/N.” Damian defended.
“I’ve met her. Harley loves Y/N. She was there for Y/N when I died, unlike you. She looks after Y/N.” Jason defended. Bruce stared at you.
“Where’s Harley?”
“I’m not telling you. Her life's in danger, she’s in hiding… we’re going to meet up soon and… we’re leaving Gotham. Temporarily. Just until Joker forgets she exists, then we’re getting a new apartment, maybe somewhere closer to Jason.” You explained.
“You can’t leave Gotham with her!” Bruce snapped.
“Why not?” Tim asked. Bruce’s head snapped around to him. “If Joker gets an inkling that Harley has a girlfriend, especially if it’s Y/N Wayne, he’ll go after her. It’s better safe than sorry.”
“Anything we can do from here? We can get you two a safehouse in another city till things calm down.” Dick offered. You smiled at him and nodded, and he smiled sadly. “We should cause a scene to keep him occupied so he doesn’t have time to realise Harley’s gone off the grid. One of us should also escort you both just in case.
“I’ll do that.” Jason decided. “Atleast you know if worst comes to worse and Joker tries to stop you leaving, I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Do none of you care about what I think?” Bruce asked.
“No. We don’t. This has nothing to do with you. This is to do about the safety of Y/N and her girlfriend from her girlfriend’s abusive ex. This is about what is best for them, and what we can do to make things easier for them. You’ve never cared about her. You’ve never put her first and done what’s best for her. Leave us to deal with this, and stay out of it.” Jason snapped at him. Bruce looked around, seeing to see if anyone- even you- would tell Jason off. No one did. Without another word, Jason pushed you to go with Damian and Tim to go pack some things while he went to get a car from the garage for you and Harley and your things, and Dick got his phone out to start making calls for somewhere safe for you to stay. Bruce stared at Dick, the only one left in the room. He saw that Bruce was waiting for him to talk to him, say anything to him.
“Y/N has always been there for us, no matter what. This is the only time she’s ever said she’s needed our help. We’re taking it.” He told him simply, before putting his phone to his ear and leaving the room, leaving Bruce alone, unsure on what to do or what to say.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
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Nightmares
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Relationship: Natasha x Reader
Summary: Y/n starts having nightmares after a tough mission. She locks herself away from the team, hoping to feel better once her girlfriend returns from her own mission.
Word Count: 2200
Y/n's POV:
It was one of the worst missions I had been on. We were successful but at a price. Bucky, Sam and I had been sent to support a team of SHEILD Agents in apprehending a person of interest. The only thing was the intelligence was wrong and the person was far more dangerous than we had prepared for.
Instead of a teenage boy who was unaware of powers, we were greeted by a man in his early 20s, very capable of manipulating the element of fire. From the group of 10 agents, we lost 3 and 2 others had severe injuries. Their screams will forever haunt me.
The journey back on the quinjet was silent. I decided to pilot the jet back, so I had something to focus on, so I didn’t get lost in my thoughts. As soon as we landed the medical team were on hand to escort the injured to the medical wing. Fury was also stood waiting, his arms crossed waiting for us to exit.
Bucky, Sam and I slowly trudged off of the jet, my whole-body aching. “You did a good job.” Fury stated once we were in the meeting room. I couldn’t help but let out a scoff at his words. “Something you want to share Y/l/n?” He asked. I could feel the anger building in me. It took everything in me to not yell. “We lost three agents because the intel was wrong. We weren’t prepared and we paid the price. Tell me how that was a good job?” I fumed, my fist clenched.
“You apprehended an extremely dangerous individual. That is a good job. Intelligence isn’t always accurate, but despite the hardship you face, you successfully completed the mission.” Fury responded. I scoffed once again but didn’t reply. I didn’t have the energy, and nothing would change. We spent the next hour going through the debrief before we were allowed to leave.
All I wanted was to clean up and lie in bed in my girlfriend’s arms, but she was also out on a mission and wasn’t due back for a two more weeks. As we left the meeting room, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “You should probably go and see Bruce and get those cuts stitched up. You took more hits than Sam and me.” Bucky said with a soft smile on his face. “Well, we can’t all be super soldiers with metal arms.” I quietly joked. “Come on, I’ll keep you company.” She said, leading me to the medical wing.
Once I was stitched up, I made my way back to my room to shower the dirt off. I watched as the mud and blood washed off my body and drained away. In the solace of the shower, my mind raced over the events of the day and everything I could have done differently. Could I have saved at least one of the agents? I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the bathroom door.
“Y/n/n, dinner’s ready.” Wanda said from the other side of the door. “Thanks Wands, I’ll be down in a minute.” I shouted back, quickly finishing up in the shower. After throwing on some sweatpants and a baggy hoody, I made my way down to the kitchen. With most of the team away on another mission, it was only Wanda, Bucky, Sam and I left in the compound. I took my seat opposite Wanda and I could see her worried eyes glancing over the cuts on my face. Dinner was quiet, with just small talk here and there. The food, as always when Wanda cooks, was amazing. It helped bring me the smallest amount of comfort, but I struggled to keep my mind off of what had happened on the mission.
“You couldn’t have done anything more Y/n” Wanda spoke up after Sam and Bucky left. I picked up the empty plates and walked into the kitchen to clear up. “Please stay out of my head Wanda.” I requested, not making any eye contact. “I’m just worried about you Y/n, I know what you’re like. I’m here if you need anything.” She replied. I gave her a nod and tight-lipped smile. Not wanting to push any further, she placed a kiss against my temple before leaving.
The next few days were tough. I hadn’t really slept, everything I closed my eyes, I relieved the events of the mission. I saw the agents die on repeat and I couldn’t get their screams out of my head. Each night I would wake up screaming, thank God for Tony sound proofing all the rooms. I mainly stayed in my room only coming out for dinner. I blamed myself and I was soon finding that I was falling into a black hole of darkness.
It was 5 days after the disaster of a mission and I woke up once again from a nightmare and decided to head out for a run. It helped to clear my mind and I felt slightly better when I got back. I showered and joined the others in the living room for the first time since the mission. I didn’t speak and I could see Wanda looking at me with concern in her eyes.
I knew she was reading my mind and I tried very hard to make sure I wasn’t thinking about all the dark thoughts I had been having. I thought I had been successfully as she hadn’t said anything. But I was wrong. She had excused herself and disappeared for a while before coming back in. She sat next to me this time and placed an arm around my shoulder. “Please don’t shut yourself away Y/n. We’re all here for you.” She said in a caring manner. I didn’t respond, I simply placed my head on her shoulder and sighed.
That evening, I was in my bathroom changing the dressings and cleaning up the wounds that were slowly healing. The cream stung like a bitch and I was fighting back the tears that were forming. I carefully unwrapped the dressing over the largest wound on my stomach, grimacing at the pain. As I run my fingers over the stiches, I hear a gasp from beside me.
Turning to look where the noise came from, I see my girlfriend stood in the doorway her hand to her mouth. “Nat. What are you doing here? You’re not due back for another week!” I exclaimed, shocked to see her stood in front of me. Her hand dropped from her mouth, but her eyes remained focused on my wound. “Wanda called and said how worried she was about you. I came straight home.” She responded.
“Babe, I’m fine. They’re just superficial.” I said, trying to calm her worries. She doesn’t say anything, but slowly walks towards me. Her hands gently running over the wounds on my stomach and face. She runs her thumb over my cheekbone and her eyes meeting mine. I lean my head forward, so our foreheads connect. It takes all of me to not breakdown.
Silently she takes over to help cleaning my wounds, placing light kisses on my lips every time I flinch in pain. It was calming to be with her again. Once I was cleaned up and rebandaged, we both changed into pyjamas and cuddled up in bed. Nat opened her arms for me snuggle into her. I placed my head on her chest and wrapped my arm around her stomach, pulling her close. “You shouldn’t have come home. I’m fine.” I said, gently running my finger in random patterns on her stomach.
“I’m glad I did. Wanda said you’d been shutting yourself away, that’s not like you. And besides, the mission was boring, it ended up just being recon.” She responded, her hand rubbing my back under my top. “Sounds like your mission wasn’t so easy.” She said looking down to me. I shook my head, not really wanting to talk about it right now. “You want to talk about it?” Nat asked. “Not right now, I’d rather just enjoy this time with you.” I said leaning up and giving her a kiss. “Ok, but I’m here when you’re ready?” I squeezed her tightly, earning a small chuckle. We led there for a while before we both succumbed to sleep.
I shot up screaming after seeing the deaths all over again. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to rip out of my chest, and I was struggling to breathe. I gasped for breath whilst my eyes struggled to focus on the room around me.
“Babe, you’re ok. It was just a nightmare.” I felt Nat’s arms wrap around my shoulders. I couldn’t find the breath or words to respond. My eyes just frantically darted around the room.
Nat got up and knelt in front of me, placing her hands on my cheeks which caused me to flinch a little. “Look at me babe ok.” She calmly speaks. I feel her thumbs gently caressing my face which helps to calm me and I’m able to make contact with her worried eyes. “That’s great moya lyubov (my love). Now I need you to take some deep breathes. Follow my breathing.” She instructs, her thumbs wiping away the falling tears.
Whilst I’m still struggling to catch my breath, Nat helps me to sit against the headboard of the bed and she lays my legs out flat to help get air into my lungs. She takes my hands again and returns to helping me through following her breathing. After some time, although it’s still shaky, my breathing returns to normal. The gasping for air is replaced by quiet sobs.
“Oh detka, come here.” Nat sits to my side and pulls me on to her lap, giving me a tight hug. She rubs her hand up and down my back helping me to relax whilst holding my head to her chest. “It was awful Nat. He was so strong and his powers… t-they didn’t stand a chance! I can’t stop reliving it over and over trying to work out what I could have done differently.” I cry out.
“Shush, you’re ok now. I’m here, we’re going to get through this together. I’m not going anywhere.” Nat reassures me. “Tomorrow we’ll go and see Bruce and see if he can do anything to help. But I do think it would help if you talked to someone about it. It doesn’t have to be me, but it might help you process how you’re feeling.” Nat always knew the right things to say. I hated being vulnerable but with her I didn’t care. Being in her arms I felt safe, and I knew she would protect me.
I take a deep breath and look up into Nat’s eyes, where the worry has been replaced by pure love. “You’re right, I need help. After it happened I kind of shut myself away not wanting to address how it affected me. Hopefully speaking with someone can help for me to come to terms with what happened.” Nat just looked at me with pride. I was never one to admit I needed help which made Nat happy that I was accepting help, but also concerned at how bad it must be for me to admit it.
“Thank you Nat, for all of this. You’ve just come from your own mission and jumped in to dealing with my shit straight away.” I said, looking away slightly in shame. “Nope, none of that. I’m your girlfriend and this is part of the job. How many times have you sat with me after a bad mission or held me through a nightmare? I don’t want to be anywhere else, other than with you. I love you so much Y/n.” Nat said with such sincerity. A wide smile appears on my face and I lean up and pull her into a passionate, yet soft kiss. “I love you too Nat.”
Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, Nat stayed up with me and we talked about everything and anything. My mind firmly taken off of the horrible nightmare I had awoken from. In the morning she did exactly as she said and took me to see Bruce. We arranged for me to start seeing a therapist and it was the best decision I made.
It took a while, but eventually the nightmares almost disappeared. Talking with my therapist had made me see it wasn’t my fault and that I did all I could. When I finally understood and believed that I started to see a change when I slept. The nightmares became less frequent, and even if I do still experience them, Nat is by my side to help me through.
I couldn’t have asked for more. Nat is my world, she stayed by me every step of the way. At times I would find myself falling into a dark place, but it was Nat who would drag me back and I eventually realised that she was my light and with her by my side, I could do anything. I know I’m going to marry that woman one day.
#natasha romanoff#natasha#romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#avengers#avengers fanfiction
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A Man of Mistakes – Gator Tillman
Masterlist
Everyone makes mistakes in their life. The biggest mistake I made was trusting Gator Tillman. We have been together since high school. At the beginning of this year, I found out I was pregnant. I don't think I've ever seen Gator more excited.
But that's when he started to change.
He didn't change toward me or the baby. He came home later and later. When he did finally come home, he was angry and jittery. I tried talking to him about it, several times. Each time, he'd brush me off and tell me he was fine.
Things escalated.
I was about six months pregnant when Gator came home drunk.
~•~
I jumped when the door was kicked open. I looked over my shoulder to see Gator struggling to take off his shoes.
"Son of a bitch!" He yelled.
"Gator?" I took off my blanket and slowly stood up. I couldn't help but place my hands over my belly.
"Sorry, baby," he whispered loudly. "Did I wake you?"
"Wake me? Gator, it's 5 o'clock."
"Oh," he chuckled. "My bad. Time got away from me."
"Where were you?"
"Hanging with my dad," he slurred.
Oh no.
"And he took you to a bar," I said instead of asking.
"Duh," Gator scoffed. I jumped when he threw his gun belt over onto the table.
"Gator," I hesitated.
"Don't start with me, Y/N," he snapped. He brushed past me, slightly bumping my shoulder. My heart sank when he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
"Are you sure you should. . ."
Gator cut me off by throwing the completely full beer at me. Luckily he was drunk so it hit the wall to my right instead of me. I looked at the broken beer bottle before turning my shocked eyes to my boyfriend.
"Get out."
"Y/N. . ."
"Get out!"
~•~
Gator came back the next day completely sober. He apologized and begged me to take him back. I was firm and clear about what he needed to do if he wanted to be a part of our child's life. He swore that he would do everything.
At first, it seemed like he really meant it. He started coming home right at 5:10. He'd bring home dinner and a gift for the baby. He was with me when I went into labor and he stayed by my side until we brought our daughter, Annabelle, home. Everything was going great. I actually started to believe that we could build a life, a family, together.
I woke up from that fantasy real quick.
It only took one shoot-out at the grocery store that Annabelle and I got in the middle of for me to kick him out for good.
~•~
"Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?"
"We needed more diapers," I said slowly, still shaken from the shoot-out.
Gator looked down at Annabelle in my arms. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw her still asleep.
"Damn," he chuckled. "This little babe can sleep through just about anything."
My anger took over when he reached for her. I used my arm that wasn't holding her and pushed him away.
"I'm done," I said through my teeth. "Stay the hell away from me and my daughter."
"Y/N. . ."
"This wasn't a normal police shoot-out," I cut him off. "You and your crew were wearing masks. What were you doing? Robbing the place?!"
"No," he said slowly.
"Then what. . ." I didn't need to finish my question. "You are just like your father," I said under my breath. "And I will not allow my baby girl to be around someone like him."
~•~
Ever since the store shoot-out, I've ignored Gator's many attempts to see me and our daughter. I also haven't slept. I kept having nightmares about that day. I looked over at the clock and sighed when I saw it was almost two in the morning.
I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. I made some tea to hopefully help me sleep. I had barely started my first cup when I heard sirens. I didn't get nervous until the lights started bouncing off my kitchen. I jumped when the front door was forced open.
"Y/N!" Gator yelled as he ran to me. "I'm so happy you're okay. I can explain. . ."
"Gator! There's a baby in this house!" I yelled, pushing him away from me. "You can't come barging in here with the lights going and the sirens blaring as our two-month-old daughter sleeps!"
"I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I was just. . . I can explain."
"I can't wait to hear this," I scoffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Please, explain."
"We need to get you and Annabelle out of here." He started to walk toward her nursery, but I pushed him again.
"That's not an explanation," I said through my teeth. "And I am not taking her anywhere until you tell me what's going on."
"Okay," he sighed. "Look, a while ago I arrested a guy connected to a pretty big drug smuggling ring. And now. . ."
"Now what?"
"They threatened you and Annabelle."
"Wait, what?" I asked, taking a step away from him.
"They left me a message that if I don't release their boss, they'll come after my family."
"So, what are you saying?" I asked my voice low.
"I need to put you in protective custody," he said. I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "I'm sorry, but I have to make sure you're safe. They threatened you, Y/N. They threatened our daughter. I know you and I are working through some things right now, but that doesn't mean I am going to sit back and let them take you from me."
"Gator," I sighed. "Why would you get involved with those kind of guys?"
"My dad. . ."
"Would you stop with that?!" I snapped. "Gator, you are not your father!"
"I want to be!"
"You shouldn't," I said, strangely calm. Gator's face fell as I took a small step closer to him. "You have the ability of being better than your father. He did his job horribly. You know that. You know how many people got hurt, how many criminals he let slide. When I told you I was pregnant, do you remember the promise you made me?"
"I promised to make the town safe for our daughter," he answered, his voice soft.
"So let me ask you something," I said, softening my own voice. "Do you think you've done that?"
Gator opened and closed his mouth. I could see the tears threatening to spill.
"I haven't," he admitted. He quickly added, "I can start though. If you and Annabelle come with me, I can keep you guys safe. And once the threat is gone. . ."
"There will be another one," I sighed. "You can't fix these types of things, Gator. Once you get started down that road, it's nearly impossible to go back. I can't keep my daughter close to trouble."
I started to walk away, but Gator grabbed my hand. "What are you saying?" He stuttered.
"I'm saying that my top priority is keeping my baby safe," I said, my voice breaking, "even if that means taking her away from here."
"Away from me," he said slowly.
"It's not like it's an easy decision," I scoffed. "You have to understand why I would make it, Gator."
"I do," he stuttered. "But that doesn't mean. . ."
"I've been having nightmares."
"You what?" Gator gasped, stepping toward me. "What are your nightmares about, baby?"
"That day," I said, my voice breaking. "At the grocery store. It's one of two dreams. Either I get shot or. . ."
"Or?" Gator gently pushed as he cupped my cheek.
"Or Annabelle."
"Shit," he mumbled. He took another step closer to me and gently grabbed my arms. "I'm so sorry, baby. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," I said softly. "I just. . . I don't want to have them anymore."
Gator pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around me. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
"You know," he whispered, "sleeping next to someone who would take a bullet for you helps get rid of nightmares."
"That's kind of hard when the person next to you is mixed up in what's causing your nightmares," I said softly as I pulled out of his embrace.
"What if I wasn't in a job that gave you nightmares?"
"What?" I stuttered. "Gator. . . You can't. . . Are you. . ."
"Sir?"
Gator sighed when we were interrupted. "What?" He snapped at the officer.
"We should really get your family out of here," the guy said slowly. Gator turned toward me with pleading eyes.
"Please," he whispered. "We will have this conversation, I promise, but can we do it at a safe house?"
"I'll go pack a bag for me," I said softly. "Will you pack some things for Annabelle?"
"Of course," he said letting out a sigh of relief.
He leaned in and quickly kissed me before jogging to the nursery. I messed with my hands as I went to my room. My mind was swarming with questions and what-ifs as I packed a bag. When I was done, I put it on the kitchen table and went to check on Gator.
I froze in the doorway when I saw him in the rocking chair, holding our daughter. My heart jumped into my throat as he softly sang her favorite lullaby.
"I see you haven't started packing her bag," I said my voice almost a whisper. Gator looked up at me and smiled.
"She woke up," he smiled. I walked over, leaned down, grabbed his face, and pressed my lips to his. I had tears streaming down my face as our lips moved in sync. I broke the kiss and pressed my forehead against his.
"I've missed you."
"Really?" He asked as I leaned back. "I've missed you too, baby. And our little girl. I promise I will do whatever it takes to protect both of you. Even if that means leaving my job and this town."
"This is everything you've ever worked for, Gator. You'd really walk away?"
"For you and Annabelle?" He whispered. He stood up, still holding our daughter, and pulled me into his side. "I'd do anything to protect my family."
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 36 part two
(Masterpost) (Pinboard) (whole thing on AO3)
Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Breakfast Al Fresco
After a nightmare about falling into the burial mounds, Wei Wuxian wakes up all misty.
I guess this is supposed to be sweat, but sweat is usually not distributed in a fine spray over the surface of a person’s face like this, at least not the kind that happens while you sleep. My fellow menopausal people can attest to this.
For the first and probably last time in their lives, Wei Wuxian is up for breakfast before Lan Wangji.
This means that we, not Lan Wangji, get to watch him eat.
What? I’m a simple woman with simple interests.
(more behind the cut!)
I Sit And Watch the Children Play
While he eats his breakfast, Wei Wuxian watches a group of kids playing “Sunshot Campaign,” complete with shooting toy arrows at a kite that represents the sun. A reference, presumably, to that kite that Wang Lingjiao used as an excuse to attack Lotus Pier.
Doing things I used to do
They think are new
Wei Wuxian smiles with genuine pleasure, watching these small fry play-acting the central trauma of his and his peers’ lives; only the mention of Jin Zixuan’s death brings his mood down.
He appears to carry his damage very lightly, but we know that this bright morning began with a nightmare. Perhaps every morning begins that way, but he is an expert at clearing his mind and embracing The “Now” of Wolf Thought the present moment.
Seeing kiddie Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng cheers him right back up again. Kudos to whoever was in charge of casting kids in this show. I particularly love baby Nie Mingjue’s big boss energy.
BBNMJ: Don’t make me shank you
The kiddos do a good job of embodying the conflicts of the cultivation world, roleplaying a bunch of guys trying to be in charge while smack-talking the other guys who want to be in charge.
Wei Wuxian politely asks the kids where’s Yiling Laozu? which sets up a gag in which their...nanny? shows up and hollers at them and they call her Yiling Laozu and run away. It’s funny and it does illustrate Wei Wuxian’s ongoing bad reputation.
It misses an opportunity, though, to show us a cute baby Yiling Laozu like the one we see in the Donghua.
There’s Got To Be A Morning After
Lan Wangji finally emerges from the inn, and proceeds to have more facial expressions in 60 seconds than he usually has in an hour.
Wei Wuxian has a good time teasing him about his drunkenness, while managing not to actually tell him any of the things that happened, other than their discussion about rabbits.
Note that this conversation is even more entertaining if you mentally substitute the word “ass” for the word “rabbit.”
Trust Me
Wei Wuxian mercifully changes the subject, asking Lan Wangji if he recognized the Ghost-Masked guy’s sword style. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember anything from last night except the sword fight, which is very on brand for him. He loves: sword fighting, rules, and Wei Wuxian, not in that order.
Wei Wuxian, because he has a perception bonus of +10, noticed that the dude put a spell on his sword to disguise it, meaning that he and his sword must both be well-known cultivators. He also noticed that the dude knew Lan Clan sword moves. Wei Wuxian very gently asks if the guy is someone that Lan Wangji knows.
Lan Wangji thinks for a moment and says No. Wei Wuxian accepts his answer so readily that Lan Wangji is taken aback, and thinks that WWX doesn’t believe him.
He asks if Wei Wuxian trusts/believes/believes in him, using the same word,信, that we looked at in Episode 33, and that will come up again in a couple more places.
Wei Wuxian reassures him, although his reasoning--that Hanguang-Jun has never spoken a lie--is not 100% correct. Unless we think he really was night hunting in Yiling all those years ago.
At this point the Qiankun bag of Plot Convenience tells them to mosey along to scenic Yi City.
An Inauspicious Place
When they approach their destination, we get to see the more mellow side of their camaraderie; their interaction has a lot of the flavor of their first road trip together, but with more maturity and mutual respect. As in the old days, Wei Wuxian handles the social interactions, talking to a dude by the road to get directions, while Lan Wangji hangs back.
In discussing the name of the place, Lan Wangji listens with interest while Wei Wuxian explains the layered meaning of the name, and we’re reminded that Wei Wuxian was a formidable scholar before his life went to shit.
Wei Wuxian 2.0 has some catching up to do, both in cultivation and in reading, to be a match for his 30-something boyfriend once again, but his fundamentals are strong as hell.
When they reach the gate of the city they take a moment to share some unnecessary eye contact. They probably think they’re about to have a fun low-angst adventure.
They start walking through the almost-deserted town, which has random paper funeral swag rolling around. The whole town was apparently focused on funerals and making funerary offerings, which seems like an unreliable basis for an economy.
Everything is covered in a haze that makes things difficult for sword dudes and gifmakers. They’re led a little ways into town by a mysterious running person, who is A-Qing running at breakneck speed, presumably to hide from Xue Yang while she also tries to make contact with the newcomers.
A little more running, and Wei Wuxian find a whole crowd of juniors, including all of our favorites. Bright boy Sizhui immediately figures out that if “Mo Xuanyu” is here, Lan Wanji must be here too. Jingyi immediately fangirls about Hanguang-Jun, recognizing Bichen’s sword light through the haze.
Jin Ling has never had a cool teacher in his high school, so he doesn’t get what the fuss is about.
Wei Wuxian encourages the kids to dump a heap of exposition about why they are here. They are here because the plot wants them to be here.
Then they start squabbling, because they are a bunch of teenage boys, and Lan Wangji, who is not anywhere in sight, silences them with the Lan silencing spell. Despite the fact that they’re all lost in a fog in a strange, inauspicious place. Fuck safety, amirite?
Naturally the next thing that happens is a bunch of zombies come up behind Wei Wuxian and the kids try to warn him, but without speech they’re reduced to impassioned pointing. Don’t bother drawing your swords, you useless twits.
Wei Wuxian temporarily stops the zombies with a finger snap, but then they start up again. Lan Wangji shows up and guqins them into oblivion, accidentally poisoning a random selection of juniors in the process.
The adults figure out that there’s a Yin Tiger Seal in operation, but it’s not Wei Wuxian’s. Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to brag about his superior corpses.
Lan Wangji: I know, dude; I distinctly recall one of those fuckers slicing my Wei-Ying-catching arm open
Then the ghost-mask dude shows up to fight, making the most of the low visibility and his uncanny ability to not actually be in the scene for most of the fighting.
Camera Operator: sword fighting while I hold this camera sure is difficult
Lan Wangji elegantly goes after Ghost Mask guy, heading over the rooftops to have a smoke a prolonged offscreen fight while Wei Wuxian handles things in town for the next...hour or two? However long it takes to make congee, anyway.
Wei Wuxian leads the kids to find a house with a functioning kitchen so he can cook up a remedy for the poisoning.
He tells the juniors that getting poisoned is good because it’s an experience they can talk about when they’re older. By that measure, Wei Wuxian has had the best life of anybody ever.
They find a creepy house with a creepy lady who has corpse lines on her neck, which is as good as things get here in Yi City, so Wei Wuxian talks his way in.
He’s very polite but he shows the juniors that he’s got the door blocked with his foot so that he can push his way in if necessary.
Sizhui lights a candle and all of the kids freak out when they see the full-size paper servants hanging from the rafters, even though paper servants would be a pretty normal thing to see in their lives, and they are all, like, professional ghost and monster hunters.
Wei Wuxian, looking fine as hell, steps into the creepy lady’s room to ask her permission to use her kitchen. He notices that she’s working in the dark and sees the lines on her neck, but he’s not prejudiced against corpses so he doesn’t comment. He uses his beautiful hands to thread her needle for her before going to cook fire congee for the juniors.
Soundtrack: As Tears Go By, by Marianne Faithfull or by The Rolling Stones, take your pick; There’s Got To Be a Morning After by that girl in The Poseidon Adventure.
Further Reading: The “Now” of Wolf Thought is a reference to Elfquest, which is an awesome comic book series that launched back when I was a teen. You can read all of them for free at Elfquest.com without registering or anything.
Bonus: Beautiful Hanguang-Jun
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I wanna see more of big sister ragatha (obviously platonic) so how about ragatha pretending to be a monster and chasing around a playful child reader?
Big sis Ragatha hcs! Platonic + child!reader
just about 10 more requests and my inbox will be empty! yahoo!!
gentle reminder that requests are currently closed (/not targeted, /not mad), ill also be modifying the rules of requesting a little bit, maybe, but the details will be shown when theyre reopened :O
the type to say "chin up" or "cheer up", switches between the two
if you have a stuffed animal, she'll make sure it stays in top shape! keeps it clean, puts more stuffing in it if any falls out, sews any cuts n holes, stuff like that! probably makes little outfits and accessories for it too!
does the same with blankets, if you get a whole in your blanket she will fix it! give her enough time she might actually just make you a blanket
i believe in ragatha being into sewing/knitting/crocheting, the works! is it creative? i mean no, considering shes based off of a doll... but is it a fun and sweet idea? yes, and i think it fits her pretty well!
lets you sleep with her in bed if you have a nightmare
honestly this is starting to sound more like ragatha being a mom figure rather than an older sister figure... can you guys tell i dont have an older sister/lh
does your hair if you have long hair, as well as lets you do hers. if you braid it or put bows in her hair shes gonna keep it like that until she needs to undo it. will absolutely rock the look and shoot down any comments made her way or yours
though thankfully i dont think anyone would be bold or mean enough to make fun of an innocent kid; yes this includes jax. hes an asshole but i dont think he would go out of his way to pick on a kid
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#ragatha x reader#ragatha x you#ragatha imagine
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Unexpected Constellations (Part 10)
Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI)
Word Count: 5.5K
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of blood, Foul language, Sexual content (yum), genuinely like it's getting very hot in here.
A/N: i don't even know what to say. No better time then the present though a.) because my love of pedro has been reinvigorated since the release of tlou b.) because mando s3 starts veeryyy soon and c.) because we are 3 days from this fic's 1 year anniversary! I cannot believe that is a thing I just said. I wish I could apologize enough for the long, unannounced hiatus I took but it would probably have a bigger word count than this part itself. Anyway enjoy, and thanks for all the love and support you've given throughout my absence. Also, if I miss adding new people to the taglist, please just ask again on this post! As always, reblog appreciated <3. Comment on this post or the masterlist to get added to the taglist!
The nightmare came again. And maker, it felt so real. You thrashed against invisible restraints, blood running in red rivulets down your arms, down your legs, pooling beneath you.
So much of it.
He was running, sprinting, down a darkened hallway, lungs aching with the effort. But each step brought him no closer. He watched your breaths grow more and more laboured, saw your pallor go pale, tracked your eyes as they rolled back. All the while throwing himself through the corridor, reaching senselessly…
When you finally slumped, held in some invisible restraint, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do.
Din launched up from his spot on the floor, fully focused on keeping his dinner down. He was sweating, the loose fabric of his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back. He hated those dreams. The nausea abated slowly, and the blankets pooled at his waist, welcoming the cooled air of the Crest. The helmet was on, and he would have torn it off to breathe if not for the scene in front of him.
You were up, legs dangling off the end of the cot, eyes open, staring but unseeing. Your hands were clasped in front of you, and you were running your thumb along the inside edge of your palm. Somehow wrong. So wrong. He dialed up the night vision and tracked your gaze to where it landed, on the small stone perched just mere meters from where you sat.
He whispered your name, quietly, so as not to startle you. He was still hoarse from sleep. But you seemed not to hear him at all. Stars, were you even blinking? He repeated it, more insistent this time, already rising from his place on the floor. Still… nothing.
He approached you slowly, waving a hand in front of your face. Not even a hint of recognition passed over your features. Only when he grasped you by the shoulder did you look up at him, surprised, as if you hadn’t even noticed he was there.
“What’s wrong?”
There was silver lining your eyes. And something so eerily beautiful about it.
“Hey…” He moved to sit beside you. “Come on, talk to me.”
You were still worrying away at your hands, and he reached over to grasp them in his own. The warmth drained from his face.
You had dragged your thumbnail over the soft centre of your palm, digging an angry, red line into it. Blood welled from the cut… you didn’t look at it once. You were focused on him, only on him, something like despair and hopelessness flickering over angelic features.
“I have to tell you something.” It was barely a whisper, slightly haunting.
He could only nod. “Okay.”
You seemed to wrestle with yourself a bit, identifiable by the darting of your eyes, the tight press of your lips. There was a fallen eyelash atop your cheekbone, the small hint of a blueish bruise peeking out the neckline of your shirt, a small split on your lower lip. He hadn’t noticed it before, perhaps because he had been so distracted in kissing you senseless. How the mood of a few hours prior had sobered.
Finally, you confided: “It talks to me. It’s been… talking to me.”
Oh.
“It keeps going… and I- I can’t get it to stop.” A solitary tear broke free, and you wiped it away yourself, exuding not sorrow or fear, but… frustration. And he cursed the damn thing, soundly, considered the consequences of opening the ramp door in hyperspace just to chuck it out into the expanse of darkness between the stars.
“What is it saying?” He was unsure whether it was wise to ask.
You looked away helplessly, and he could see you… fighting it. But when you looked back at him, the words came fast, like you couldn’t bear to keep them in any longer.
“It says it’s mine. Says it belongs to me.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. And then you were shaking your head, almost violently. “But it can’t be… It can’t be, because if it is, then that means…”
You tripped over your words, and he heard the change in your tone as you fought back tears. “It means that I’m…”
You didn’t make it through the sentence before you choked, just once. He understood what you were trying to say. He also understood how foolish that was. So he did the only thing he could, and gathered you up against him. There was no resistance, you gripped his shirt, and he could feel the damp of your tears stain the front of it.
“You’re not.” He shook his head. You cried silently into his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what it says… I knowyou’re not.”
He dragged you back into the bunk, and you went with him easily, practically limp in his arms. He wasn’t entirely sure whether it would do much to shut out the sound of the stone, but he closed the door of the alcove anyway, plunging the space into absolute darkness.
You were still crying, ever so quietly. And so, keeping one arm around your middle, he lifted the other to the edge of the helmet, sliding it awkwardly off and placing it to the side. Your silenced sniffles were the only indication that you had even noticed.
He lay back—and kriff, he had forgotten how comfortable this cot was compared to his own makeshift bed. You fit yourself into his side perfectly; somehow, it felt as if you were made to be there.
He trailed a hand along your shoulder, savouring the feel of your skin, and yet cursing the circumstances.
“Focus on me.”
Down your arm, to your back. You pressed closer to him, drawing your own arm over his abdomen, holding him with the same desperation that he held you, like you might piece each other back together.
“Focus on my voice.” He smoothed down your hair, and on impulse alone, placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You sniffled once again, or maybe you were breathing him in.
In the pitch black, you lay there for some time, and he whispered to you every now and again, to draw your focus back, to make sure you were with him, and nowhere else.
Seconds, minutes, maybe hours later, you spoke back.
“Din?” Your voice was heavy with exhaustion, and he could feel you grow heavier in his arms. There was something about the way you said his name. It sounded soft when you spoke it… fragile and comforting.
He trailed a hand down your spine. “Yes?”
You were silent for a long moment, breathing so even he thought you might have fallen asleep just then. But, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, you grasped onto him tighter.
“I love you.”
Everything stopped. Time and space and the breath in his lungs and the thoughts in his head. You drifted off against his chest, totally oblivious. He thought he might fall apart in the force of the moment. And even though you wouldn’t hear it, he whispered into the darkness.
“I wanted to be the first one to say it.”
You woke to merciful silence. And warmth. It took a moment for you to regain memory, to piece the events of the night back together. The body under your own, corded with muscle, was the last piece of the mosaic.
His heartbeat was rhythmic under the soft material of his undershirt, and you refrained from stretching, from moving at all, because there was nothing you wanted more than to prolong the moment.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had been held.
He smelled nice. It was something you couldn’t place, a hint of the soap from the fresher, but also something more masculine, more… him. In the darkness of the cot, you were engulfed by it, scent, sound, feel. There was no room for anything else.
It seemed an easy realization then, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. In Canto Bight, the crystal had taunted you relentlessly, until Din had found you in the alley. It had remained silent during your… endeavours in the cockpit and had only resumed its cryptic hushing when you had separated to sleep. It seemed to simultaneously confuse you and make exact sense.
As long as you were with him, you were safe.
He stirred then, taking a deeper breath, and readjusting against you. He seemed to have slept soundly; was that normal for him? You maintained your stillness, timing your breaths to seem even.
“You’re awake.”
It was half of a question, half of a statement. Kriff, how could he tell? And stars, the rough, sleep-laced tone of his voice was downright sinful.
You gave up on your performance, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“How are you feeling?” Like I don’t want to move.
“I’m okay.” A partial lie.
His silence made him seem unconvinced, so you rushed to move off the subject of yourself. “Thank you… for last night.” You felt the flush in your cheeks when you realized you hadn’t specified what part of last night you were thanking him for. Both maybe. Definitely both.
“You don’t need to thank me.” His voice was so much richer without the vocoder, warm even. You wanted to drown in it. Naturally, you said the opposite of what you were thinking.
“We’ll probably be coming out of hyperspace soon.”
“Hmm.” He only tightened his hold on you. “Karga can wait.”
Something about the way he said it sounded almost sensual. Or maybe you were just imagining it. You needed to stop imagining it.
You cleared your throat. How embarrassing would it be if he could read your mind right now? A subject change was needed, before you went clinically insane.
“So where are we going to go and drink our tea surrounded by our copious amounts of credits?”
He tapped his fingers against your spine. “I was thinking Naboo.” And he said it like it was the most casual thing in the world.
“Really?” There was such childish excitement in your tone. He knew. You had told him. About your childhood and your father and the plans that you had made to visit together.
“There are a few scattered lakes in the northwestern hemisphere. We could land along the coast of one.” You played absentmindedly with a loose thread on the blanket, trying to reign in your giddiness as he spoke. “I think Grogu might enjoy it.”
You laughed lightly, imagining the child terrorizing the poor insects and small creatures of the forested planet. “Yeah, he probably would.”
In the darkness, his hand found your chin, tilting it slightly. “Only if it’s something you would want, too.”
Perhaps, if you looked hard enough, you might have been able to make out the edge of a chiseled jaw. The hint of stubble.
“I would.” He seemed to relax further underneath you. “I really would.”
He drew several stares as he disembarked from the Crest. That was normal.
They lingered as he made his way into town, past the looming archway, merchant’s stands, past the healing baths. That too, was normal.
What wasn’t normal was the presence at his side. And while it grounded him immensely, it was also an extreme source of anxiety.
You matched his pace down the busy lane, so close that you occasionally brushed his shoulder, chin held high, even as he could see you scanning your surroundings. A front for the sake of caution, always.
It didn’t lessen his nervousness.
He had so desperately wanted to avoid this, exposing you to the prying eyes of the Guild, to Greef Karga in particular. But the truth of the matter was: if he had refused to bring you in, whoever had caught wind of you would know that he cared enough to keep you out of harm’s way. That you were important to him. That was extremely dangerous.
You were well aware of the face you would have to put on today, the game you would have to play. The Mandalorian garnered respect in the Guild through a ruthless and threatening reputation. Despite your inclusion in his meeting with Karga, it was one he would have to keep up. He suggested it was best that you do the same.
You must have been able to see the tension in his posture, or you might have read his mind, because you had grasped onto his gloved hand just before the ramp began its descent.
“It’ll be okay.”
He could only nod in understanding because nothing about this felt okay. It felt like exposing a wildflower to the cold expanse of space, just waiting for the tips of its petals to frost over and turn colourless. You had squeezed his hand again.
It had reminded him of hours before when you had grasped at his fingers mindlessly while he tasted you for the first time. He much preferred those conditions.
Thinking about it as he strode through town managed to dull the edge of his anxiety just a touch. It still felt a bit like a dream; he was struck dumb by the unbelievability of it. You. And him? It barely made sense.
He had almost cried when you finally left to wash and shed the dress, folding it, and storing it somewhere safe to return to Cantonica once the job was done. At the same time, it was nice to see you back in your usual clothes, more at ease. But even so, he wondered if you had felt the palpable weight of his unspoken words last night, and the tension they carried. He also wondered if you remembered the words that you had spoken as you drifted off. The admission that had seemed like nothing to you but meant everything to him. Something in your demeanour had changed.
You stuck close to his side as you darkened the entrance of your destination. The cantina’s metal door swept to the side, and as usual, it fell eerily silent as he crossed the threshold. A younger, naiver him would have relished in the attention, the fear, the respect. But now, he despised the stares, found himself trying to make out the hushed voices. Especially since their direction now included you.
He walked ahead, leading you to Karga’s table. If he had been able to see your face, he would have marveled at the downright bored expression you levelled back at the onlookers, holding gazes until they averted.
“Ah, Mando! I was wondering when you’d get in!” Greef Karga was as annoyingly enthusiastic as ever. However muted, chatter seemed to pick back up as he approached the man. Din noted the widening of his eyes as he took you in as well. But he barely missed a beat. Impressive.
Clapping Din on the shoulder, he extended a hand out to you. “Mando’s kept me waiting ages to meet you.”
You took it smoothly, offering a small smile in return. “He keeps me locked away in the weapons cabinet.”
Karga’s booming laugh bounced off of the stone walls. “A sense of humour? How do you two even get along?” He motioned for you to take a seat across from him. Din led you to sit first. He wanted you furthest from the chaos of the crowded cantina, somewhat blocked in by a wall of beskar. Away from prying eyes… and whatever else.
“I heard Canto Bight saw quite a bit of action.”
He hated this part. The usual engaging of small talk. Casually conversing had never come easy to him, apart from with you, but even that had taken some time. Perhaps it was a mercy he had brought you along. You replied smoothly.
Nails tapped on the varnished tabletop. “Things got a bit… crowded.”
He chortled. “I can only imagine!” Leaning in close, he whispered to you: “I’d ask how you did it, but it’s quite unlike Mando to share his tactics.”
Sarcasm bled into your rich tone. “Really? I can’t imagine why… he’s usually so chatty.”
The man laughed again, throwing his head back with the force of it. “Come now, I must know how you two met.”
“Maybe another time.” He didn’t try to hide the lack of pleasantry in his voice. He pulled the small, wrapped parcel from the belt at his side, placing it on the table. “Do you have our credits, or not?”
He caught the movement of your upper leg against the bench just before you kicked him under the table. He stilled your knee with his right hand. It probably would have hurt you more than it hurt him anyway.
Karga pawed the wrap just once before looking across the cantina. “Vorg!” he beckoned over a male, tall and broad, with facial markings adorning a pale face, and horns protruding from his head in a sort of crown. A Zabrak. Din had never seen one up close before.
I didn’t take long for curiosity to turn into him wondering how much force it would take to break off one of the horns. The way the man looked at you made Din slightly murderous. Perhaps he could rip off the one protruding from the left side of the male’s head and impale him with it. Though it might not run deep enough to do sufficient damage.
It took a beat of awkward silence, you raising your eyebrows, and Karga clearing his throat for the Zabrak to remember why he had been summoned.
Cracked fingers slid a small device across the tabletop, perhaps the size of a thumb.
“What the hell is this?” He wanted to get out of here. He wanted his credits, and he wanted you, and he wanted to leave.
You wondered if Din was aware that his hand had travelled from your knee up to your thigh, grasping it with some sort of proprietary grip. The tension rolling off of him was almost thick enough to cut.
You pushed the device back across the table. “We’re not picking up another job right now.”
“See… now I told him.” Karga was shaking his head. “I did. I said my people preferred to get paid by me. They trust me… it’s how business is done… you know how it goes.”
He was rambling.
“Greef.” Mando’s voice was low… low enough to send a chill down your spine. “Where’s my kriffing money?”
You didn’t miss the way Karga slid the wrapped crystal back towards you. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
“The client would prefer to pay you in person.” He was picking at a piece of dirt on the tabletop, all of a sudden hesitating to make eye contact. “To congratulate you on securing the bounty.”
That made no kriffing sense. Of course, Mando had dealt with clients wanting to interact directly with the hunter, but the last time that had happened, he had ended up neck-deep in Empire business, and travelling with a new, green son.
“Bantha shit. What’s really going on here, Karga.” Din’s voice was tense. You felt tense. Greef Karga looked tense. Even the Zabrak, still hovering around the edge of the table, had waves of tension rolling off of him.
No one spoke for a long moment.
“I suppose it’s for security reasons.” Karga pushed the device back over gain. “Less people handling the bounty, less of a chance of it getting swept away by greedy fingers.”
The Zabrak finally excused himself, backing away from the table and making for the door with haste. Was the flash in his hand a comms unit, or purely a trick of the light? You refocused on the conversation.
Din’s hand was higher still on your leg, and you were starting to find it hard to concentrate, though it seemed like he barely noticed.
Fine, whatever. At this point, you wanted to just take the crystal back and go. As long as Din’s hand remained between your legs until you made it to the buyer, it wouldn’t be too tough, would it?
You plastered on a fake smile, reaching for the device. “So, coordinates… I’m guessing?”
“Smart girl.” His smile was anything but genuine. “Plug it into your nav system and it will calculate the jump itself.”
High tech. That was even more unsettling.
“Fine.” Din’s voice was clipped. “But if anything goes wrong with the payment…” He stabbed a finger in Karga’s direction. “…I’m holding you accountable.”
He held his hands up. “Wouldn’t expect any less from you Mando.”
Both your and Karga’s posture eased, but Mando stayed stiff. You laid a hand over his under the table, willing him to calm. You swept your thumb over the leather of his glove and could have sworn he shuddered in response.
Karga was still doing damage control. “Mando, you’re my best man, you know that.” He was still as death beside you, but you knew part of him was probably eating up the compliment. “And with the two of you together… just imagine the money we could make!”
The table was silent for a moment.
“You’ll hear from us.” It was all Din said.
Good. Let the man sweat a little.
You left the cantina ahead of him, though he rested a hand on the small of your back, guiding, but also laying claim. Patrons looked away as the both of you passed. He didn’t feel good, about any of it. Anonymity, secrecy, a high-level bounty, and now he was running around in circles just to get his damn credits.
Credits. A lot of kriffing credits. Enough to keep you, the kid, and himself out of trouble for a long time. Enough time to lay low, and to hopefully share what he now had hidden in the hull’s under-floor compartment. Enough time to have you and Grogu all to himself.
The town’s rocky vista passed in a blur, and the Mandalorian was so lost in thought that he was entirely unaware of the way his arm had snaked around your waist as you walked.
He remained oblivious just until you had ascended the ship’s ramp, and he let you go to close it.
It raised with a whirr, and your voice cut the sound.
“You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”
And then it came flooding back. His hand on your leg under the cantina table, on your back and waist as you left. After he himself had explicitly said you would need to keep a cool and professional distance. And he was at a loss for words because… well… it was the truth.
You probably could have tasted the admission of guilt in his silence.
He went to move towards you; it had always been easier to show you with action then to talk about it. Besides, the way you were looking at him now, there was one way he knew to wipe the smirk off your face.
But he found himself completely immobile.
He fought against it, just once, before it dawned on him. He uttered your name in a low tone.
You had your head tilted to the side, a rather mischievous glint in your eye.
“What?” There was a hint of humour behind your words. “You want to touch me, Din? Go on… touch me.”
You were egging him on, and he knew it. Apart from your nightmare, you had never used the Force on him. Ever. He could break through it… right? He put a considerable amount of effort into one push forward.
He barely moved a millimetre.
You laughed, a light exhale through your nose. “What am I going to do with you?”
He could only stand, slightly dumbfounded as you circled him. Traced a finger over his pauldrons, the back of his cape, the breastplate.
He said your name again, this time a guttural, tortured sound.
“What?” You were enjoying this, he could tell. The way you were looking at him was almost predatory, covered with a mask of feigned innocence.
He was already half hard. “Fuck.” He pulled against your hold again. “Let me go.”
“Where are your manners, Djarin?” Your eyes were already half lidded, holding that semi-dazed look he loved so much.
And then he felt them, like ghosting hands, across his chest, under his armour, lower. He choked. When was the last time he had even been touched? It felt like his skin was coming alive, tingling with the most pleasurable sort of burn.
He had always been in control, always had to be, especially with women he didn’t trust. But you, oh it was so different with you. He had this unearthly, inescapable curiosity of what you might do if he handed you the reigns. How you might make him feel.
“What’s going on under than tin bucket?” He still felt those invisible touches around his thighs, over his lips. What if he passed out right now? What if he died from sheer desire? He was quiet.
You moved closer. “You have to tell me, Din. You have to tell me if you want this.”
If he wanted this? Maker. If it weren’t for the force hold, he would probably be on his knees by now.
“Please let me touch you.” He was begging.
But you only shook your head, once. “You had your chance.” And then your hands, real hands, were dragging up his pauldron breastplate. Yes, he was definitely going to die.
“My turn.”
You seemed completely unhurried as you tracked your finger across his armour, silence interspersed by the occasional click of you releasing the plates.
However, he knew better now. Your pulse jumped in the crook of your neck, and a pleasant flush crept its way across your cheekbones.
“So beautiful.”
His words made you pause, for only a second, a ghost of a tender smile appearing and then disappearing as fast as it came.
Your hands had made it down to his weapons belt. The clasp came undone with a sharp clank.
“Oh yeah?”
Then you reached in a grabbed him, stroked the length of him… slowly… and he hissed.
Maker, son of a—
How many times? Just like the night before, he marveled at the old fantasies he used to keep locked in his head. How many times had he pretended his own fist was your hand and muffled his noises behind the safety of the helmet, cursing his own improprieties.
It had to be some feverish dream that he would surely awake from any second now…
You ran your thumb over the tip, his body jerking in response. The force was the only thing keeping him standing right now, and from the smirk on your face, you knew it.
“I can feel it…” You moved even closer to him, bodies flush against each other as you jerked him off. “…I love how much you want me.”
I love…
I love…
Din groaned, the stimulation too much. He needed to move… needed to feel you. “Cyare, let me go.”
You pumped him faster. “What will you give me? If I let you go…”
Anything. Everything.
“Please…” He exhaled sharply. The sounds he was making were downright shameless.
You were merciless. “I want to taste you, Din.”
How was your voice so kriffing sweet?
“Will you let me?”
Of course. Of course. As if he even had a choice.
Then you were on your knees before him and stars, he didn’t even know if he was breathing.
“Relax. You’re so tense.” The hint of concern in your voice sounded so genuine that he barked out a laugh.
“You’re really testing me here, princess.” You smiled at the nickname, and he found himself melting just a little bit more.
When you took him in your mouth, he saw stars.
All the Mandalorian creed’s promises of glory and honour, it all paled in comparison to this. You were going to kill him. Rip him apart and piece him back together again.
It was slow, melodic almost, and torturous. If he could just… wind his fingers through your hair, cradle your jaw… something. And he could feel your eyes on him, always, gauging his reactions, listening to the noises he made, drinking in the lust-addled feel of the moment.
And he was tightening. Every muscle, the fists in his gloves, and you could feel it too… he knew it.
“Come for me.” It was a soft demand. And it fucking undid him.
He was gasping for breath, groaning and pleading, your name on his tongue like a kriffing chant. And you took it all, muttering soft praises that made him feel like he had indeed died and gone to heaven.
He braced a hand on the durasteel wall behind you as he crashed headfirst through wave after wave of pleasure. It was so overwhelming, like the world had faded out of view. It was just you and him.
You rose finally and cradled his face, the helmet hanging down as his chest rose and fell in panting breaths. Were you laughing? Psycho seductress.
It was then that he noticed the freedom of his movement, the glove that had moved to brace against the ships hull. You seemed to remember it at the same second that he did. Your eyes went wide, just a fraction.
Yeah… oops.
In a second he lifted you gracelessly, swinging you over one shoulder. Your squeal echoed through the quiet ship.
“Din!” You pounded fists lightly against his back. “Put me down!”
“What will you give me?” He parroted your own words, spinning and making his way to the cot. Your legs kicked the entire way.
Your roar of frustration had him shaking with laughter. You weren’t getting away with this. He wouldn’t be anywhere near satiated until you were writhing underneath him. Oh, he’d make you beg.
Careful to mind your head, he ducked into the narrow entrance of the cot and flung you down. You pinned him with such a look of stern defiance that he almost laughed again. But as he crawled over you, arms pinned on either side of your head, that look turned so heated it burned, and he could feel himself getting hard again.
Din Djarin was going to make you forget your own name.
He trailed a hand over your face, down your neck, between the valley of your breasts. Your chest was already rising and falling erratically.
Yes. Where should he start? Maybe—
“ST-70 Razor Crest, you are parked on Nevarro City grounds. Please vacate your spot at the earliest convenience copy?” The robotic voice travelled down from the flight deck.
His hand halted and he took you in for a moment until you whispered, breathlessly: “You should probably get that.”
The Mandalorian growled as he straightened, put his aching cock back into his pants and stomped his way to the ladder.
Your giggle chased him all the way up to the controls.
Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @aavengingbucky @prismaticpizza @blub-senpai @a-phan-of-youtube @jaguarthecat @lizajane3 @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @graciexmarvel @soobinsrose @simply-maggie @alwaysdjarin @minky77 @tinytinturtle @tae27 @groguspicklejar@slightlyuglierbeyonce-blog @willow-t @abbyhaslongshorts @andrewshotspot @racetrackheart @leithatnight @messageinadaisy
#the mandalorian#sw the mandalorian#din djarin#sw fanfic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#the mandalorian x you#mando x you#the mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian series#the mandalorian fic#the mandalorian smut#din djarin smut#din djarin imagine#the mandalorian imagine#din djarin fic#the mandalorian fanfiction#my fic#jreadswrites#unexpected constellations
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Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)
Chapter 9: I Don't Know If I Can Do It
Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.
You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.
Chapter 8 // Masterlist // AO3 Version // Gif Credit // Chapter 10
“Well done,” You said as you handed Chance two twenty pound notes and sent them on their way.
Čiernik neutralised and Shepherd’s fate in the wind, the debrief was long over. Both teams had waited for you and Price, but only Price would be joining them. Part of you wanted to hear the war stories from the 141, really catch up. Then your stomach flared up and your eyes threatened to steam up and you remembered how fragile you’d let yourself get over this calendar month.
Bronze - still conked out on meds - demanded that someone have his drink for him, so you weren’t the only one missing out. Tonight, you’d spend your time numbing your ribs and hidden away.
A naughty mood plagued your mind, a naughty and self-destructive mood that cranked open a trunk of memories concerning the good old days that Price might’ve brought up via his reappearance in his life. You groaned over being at a point in your life where your twenties were “the old days”.
That naughty mood consumed your thoughts with flashbacks you hadn’t considered for years, even since realising Price was alive. Routine for your training years was what was currently playing. Two pints into a night out, you and John used to arm wrestle – an excuse to hold his hand on your part as well as an excuse to display how much you’d been working out – over a sticky table and damp bevy napkins. If the place had a karaoke machine (like your first local did), you’d always sing “Losing My Religion” like you were trying to convince each other of your perspective. Not once did you look at the screen for the words. You would put it on the jukebox if there was no karaoke, create your own jam session that would result in a warning about getting barred.
First time John convinced you to sing with him, he had his hand on your shoulder and stared intensely at you with his forehead to yours as he sang matter-of-factly, if a little unclear due to the cider. You, on the other hand, giggled through each lyric at how overwhelmed by how his steadfast cornflower eyes held you on that stage, losing yourself in the final chorus and getting cut off by your colleague, dragged home by the collar of your shirt and insisting you weren’t that bad, John egging you on all the while.
Difficult emotions bubbled like the beer you used to drink, forming a cathartic yet strangled cry in your throat as you opened the door to your temporary room. You were too injured to wear yourself out with some exercise. That was your usual cure for avoiding uncomfortable thoughts, the energy expelled causing you to pass out without any struggle of tossing and turning – or of nightmares. Even though you were absent of any gear, or your weighted blanket back at your base, to ground you into a mattress, your ribs would’ve complained the entire night. So today you were forced to recognise that the cork on your anxiety was coming loose, and the presence of Price – paired with your lovestruck Sergeants – was the equivalent of shaking the bottle.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself with a hard sniff.
The expletive offered a mild release of emotion, staving off the crying for a little longer. Long enough to raid the medical wing for some more disposable ice packs, long enough to get caught red-handed and by none other than the main cause of your pain.
“You’re back early,” You remarked as if you weren’t using your shirt as a makeshift basket for icepacks.
Price pushed a hand through his hair, smoothing it out whilst stuffing his beanie into his coat pocket, “Had my fill. The boys were insisting it was because I was getting old.”
“You’re not old. ‘Cus if you are, then I am too, and I’m not old.”
“Course not,” Price said wryly. Then he gestured to your haul, “Need a hand?”
Already, he was approaching you and – against your better judgement – you let him scoop a couple out before you both headed back to your room.
Holding your nerve, you made an attempt to be blasé: “Don’t suppose you had a sing-song at the pub?”
“No. Haven’t since I lost my duet partner.”
You winced around the corner, hoping Price would take it in response to your injuries. He must’ve done, for he didn’t allow any silence to linger on his remark:
“Played a few sessions of Shithead to determine whose round it was. You got any other plans for tonight?”
You crushed and placed a pack onto your ribs whilst John opened your door, letting you in first as you replied, “Just lie in a pile of these.”
Price’s hum with approval was masked beneath the bed creak as you carefully placed yourself on the edge of it, your chin in your hand, whilst you awkwardly iced your back. Your eyes closed without considering the extra person in the room, yet you took note of the mattress waning beneath their weight and refused to be shocked by the calloused fingertips that touched over the condensation on your hand.
“Here,” Price said, his voice low in volume and tone.
Fingers slipping out of his gentle hold, you let Price take over holding the icepack against your side. His other hand squeezed your corresponding shoulder, thumbing out the knots on that side of your spine – and there were a lot of knots. Needless to say, you were not expecting this, nor were you expecting to crave this kind of treatment until you found yourself sitting up straighter, following Price’s hand whenever it adjusted its grip on your taut muscles.
Clearing your throat, you opened your eyes, “You always made fun of me for my spa days.”
“Well, I’ve matured now,” John said quietly, his thumb digging around the edge of your left shoulder blade, “Enough to understand the value of a back rub – maybe a good bath bomb too.”
Laughter that coughed and clogged up your throat erupted from you. A tear splashed between your spread legs, leaving a little mark on the thin rug. Another ran through the same track and slipped down your face faster. That laughter slipped into sniffles fairly quickly after that.
Price’s hands stilled, “Did I hurt you?”
You sniffed and shook your head. You massive liar.
Very easily, John could’ve just offered you a tissue from the box on the bedside table. Instead, he moved to kneel in front of you, and he went to cup your face. Tilting your head away, you pushed his hands down.Temptation was enticing you to rest your forehead against his for just a second, how it would heal all torment he’d caused you – inadvertently and otherwise. You knew this was beyond a slippery slope. It was a straight drop down a crevasse with the bottom masked by fog. Shaking your head, you looked to your bedside lamp instead of him.
Without forcing you to look at him, John spoke, “I know I’ve got no right to ask you. But I’m a selfish man.”
Stubborn, yes. Ruthless, agreed. Cold. At times. But you’d never describe Jonathan Price as selfish. Not until now, at least. You realised you were still holding his hands away, a light grip he could’ve escaped from easily but hadn’t. Your face crumpled on itself and more tears fell, your head knocking against John’s as he lowered himself to his knees between your own
“Even just a scrap of that time to apologise, properly – now I know you’ve said you’re okay with what happened, but I’m not-”
His hands curved around your wrists. There, his thumb traced over your wrist where your pulse jumped under your Viking helmet tattoo – the one he argued wasn’t accurate because it didn’t have horns.
That night you got it, he’d jeered with a beer in his hand, “I should know; it’s my damn call-sign!”
You had been so drunk on his company but so jilted by his accusation that you were prepared to cross the country with him there and then to retrieve your GCSE History certificate and wave it in his face as you declared that Vikings never actually had horns on their helmets. But then you would’ve lost your spot at the parlour, and you really liked that tattoo artist’s style so you had a juvenile John sat beside you, mumbling under his breath how wrong you were to wind him up.
Your brimming tears shocked you back to the present day, having ignored most of John’s apology in favour of reminiscing of when things felt easier.
You tuned in to the end of his speech: “I kept you in the dark and lost you. I’m sorry for that and the pain I’ve caused you. I don’t expect anything. But we’re on borrowed time already. I don’t wanna waste any more of it.”
At that, you snatched your wrists back, for his words had breathed new life into the anger you convinced yourself was dormant. “We could’ve had all the time in the world, but you left me! Why did you leave me? Don’t patronise me with the “I wanted to protect you” shit. Why didn’t you come back for me?”
And you broke down sobbing, gasping for breath as your head lolled in shame, your neck and gut rife with rile. You’d never felt so pathetic, weeping over him like this after saying it was all okay. Nothing was okay. You wanted all the years of your mourning back. You wanted them back and your John back too.
He was looking upon you with pain pinching in his brow, and his voice was as gentle as he could be: “Because I’d pick you over everything.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to leave for me!”
“You wouldn’t have to. You never did.”
God, you wanted Chance or Ghost to use you as a punching bag to block out this agony that wracked your entire body with the vines of grief. Worse still, John’s honesty struck worse than any condescending comment he could’ve conjured. It told you all you needed to know about him, and it asked you something new about yourself: if he asked you to leave team Banshee, would you? Your hesitance frightened you to your core, and you know it did the same to John and his commitment to the 141.
“I’m so sorry I took you for granted, that I never came back for you. I’ll spend my life and the next making it up to you. And at the moment all I can offer you is when our leave aligns, a flat by the Mersey, and a bottle of bourbon. But I’ll give you all I am, all of it.” John sealed his promise with a kiss to your forehead,“I’ll be behind whatever you want to do about this.”
The vines were wrapping around John now, constricting you two together, interlocking your bodies together until your anguished lips found his. He tasted like the mint he’d sucked on during his walk back to base.John’s stubbled chin grated as if your face wasn’t melting with tears, desperate to print onto him. Your irreverent fingers ploughed through his cropped hair, too short to hold onto. Teeth pressed uncomfortably together. You couldn’t picture any of the romantic whirlwinds you’d conjured on lonely nights in times gone by; your mind only allowed you to take in how you and John clawed at each other, as if a loose enough grip would lose him to you forever.
As your tears blurred your sights, the truth came clear in your mind. Through an exhale that tremoured like a needle on a gauge, you pushed away from him and heaved out, “I can’t take the trying to get on without you again, I can’t. I can’t go to your funeral again. Don’t make me.”
And how you begged him, when you knew he couldn’t guarantee you a damn thing.
John’s misty eyes clung to your form without breaking contact once as he swore, “I won’t.” He renewed the vow to every plea you made, each one a plate of glass placed around you two until you were surrounded by the fragile promises that would shatter as soon as one of you left the room.
He kissed you again, simple and sweet like nothing else in your lives. You finally touched him with those hands you’d killed with, cradling his jaws as your noses slanted together, chests levitating both your bodies up and down in asynchronous panting.
But even as you felt his touch prickle across your goose-pimpled skin, the rest of your truth pushed out of your mouth and into his:
“I wanted to forgive you, I really did. But I can’t.”
Your sobbing ceased the second you finished speaking, nothing but your wrecked breathing and tears left behind in the shock that you’d finally said it. In its wake, you were faced with John’s broken expression as he stared unmoving at you. His lips parted with a shuddering and short exhale. In that moment, you knew then that he thought you would forgive him. All you could respond with was a touch of your hand to his cheek in an offer of little comfort when you repeated yourself:
“I can’t.”
John’s eyes flickered but still did not blink, as if you would vanish the second he dared not to keep you in his sights. Nowhere in those eyes did you see him imploring you to change your mind. He simply reeled in the agony of reality crashing into dreams, splintering them beyond repair. You looked, really looked, past the youths you used to be. Borrowed time indeed, in your line of work, the flecks of grey in John’s beard and minute scars in his skin hinted at what remained of his life.
You decided to let yourself yearn for your history one more time.
“But can we…” You wiped your nose and sniffed, “Can we pretend, for the next few hours, that I have forgiven you?”
John swallowed and nodded. His eyes were wet, but he released nothing until you kissed him again, and you felt the first splash from where his cheek bumped yours, salt soaking together.
Trembling and keeping your lips to his, you removed John’s watch and touched over the nerve diagram, your not-so-matching tattoos. Your fingertips treaded along where his pulse ran on tracks through thick hairs and collected the sleeves as they went. Forming fists, you tugged at the bunched-up fabric, gently at first, then growing rapidly impatient, soon grappling with his shirt just as his tongue made an intrepid entrance in your mouth. An intrusive hand beside your injured ribs spun you around and into his lap, John now perched beside where you’d been, his shirt somewhere else. He was holding on tightly, and you were scratching his furred chest too harshly, the kiss clunky and incoherent.
Grief was forcing its way back up your throat, rejecting this attempt to compel reconciliation. Your last ditch effort to keep it at bay made you press your lips hard against hard down his neck until your broken cries were bleated against his collarbones.
John’s agitated chest kept you trapped with his arms warped around you. His trembling tongue whispered over and over “I’m sorry” beside your ear, his intentions clear but muddied by the impact of his words, stabbing you in your heart with every repetition.
Mustering enough energy to hold yourself together, you shut him up with your mouth on his, determined to make this easier for you both. Smoothing out his sticking-up hair did precious little to conjure the comfort you were seeking. Your face slid away from his in the rush of tears pouring down John’s face like rain on a car window. Resigned, you slumped against his chest, letting your breathing hiccup in your aching chest. John drew you back into his arms, applying an icepack to your side as he somehow manoeuvred you both under the blankets. At least he wasn’t apologising anymore.
You began phasing between light sleep and wake. Though you were roused from sleep by your ribs, each time the vines’ grip he held you in squeezed intermittently and kept you safe in a bubble whilst acting as if you weren’t in these impersonal quarters, maybe even in that apartment he mentioned. A few times, both of you were awake, having moved away to the far edges of the bed in your soporific turmoil. He returned to you every time and did just as you asked: pretended that this you could have each other like this, every night past the sunrise.
“John?”
“Hmm?”
“When I next wake up, I want you gone.”
Silence for a minute. And then:
“Ok.”
-------------------
AN: Black Viking was an access code for Captain Price, so I reworked it as a callsign for this fic - though it's more like "Viking" as the callsign.
Thank you for your patience with the uploads! Only two chapters more to go! Thank you also @bunnyreaper for being a Beta on this chapter <3
Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @algor-babe
#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price#john price fanfic#cod fanfic#cod x reader#mw2 fanfic#mw2#my writing#series#r: gn
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2023 Favorites
I'm kinda glad I was keeping track of what I watched, in retrospect, because looking back over my posts this year, I realized I forgot about a lot of stuff. XD After looking over the recaps and excluding rewatches, here's my top ten New Stuff I Watched for 2023:
10. Cabinet Of Curiosities
Bizarre nightmares unfold in eight tales of terror in a visually stunning, spine-tingling horror collection curated by Guillermo del Toro.
If GDT is your guy, give this a watch. Creature features, cursed objects, aliens, you name it. 8/8 tentacled eldritch abominations.
9. Wolf Creek
Three backpackers stranded in the Australian outback are plunged inside a hellish nightmare of insufferable torture by a sadistic psychopathic local.
Holy shit, this was intense. And as I said initially, so mean. If you're into Texas Chainsaw Massacre, try this. I'm into franchise bingo, so I'm going to look into the sequels and TV series. 3/3 heads on a stick.
8. Requiem For A Dream
The drug-induced utopias of four Coney Island people are shattered when their addictions run deep.
I get the feeling this is one of those that hurts so much more on rewatching, so there's that to look forward to. I've also rarely seen movies that do so much harmonizing between the music and the visuals, and it was so satisfying. 4/4 refrigerator jump scares.
7. Evil Dead Rise
A twisted tale of two estranged sisters whose reunion is cut short by the rise of flesh-possessing demons, thrusting them into a primal battle for survival as they face the most nightmarish version of family imaginable.
This was probably the most fun I had with a horror movie all year, TBH. Horror exploring family dynamics will always be a fave, and this brought plenty of fresh stuff to the franchise while also holding onto the core traits. 5/5 Staffenies.
6. Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves
A charming thief and a band of unlikely adventurers embark on an epic quest to retrieve a lost relic, but things go dangerously awry when they run afoul of the wrong people.
This was the most fun I had watching a movie all year, period. If you know nothing about DND, it's a good fantasy movie. If you're a DND nerd, the game mechanics are baked into it. If you're a fan of found families, guess what! 6/6 stealth checks.
5. Cowboy Bebop
A ragtag crew of bounty hunters chases down the galaxy's most dangerous criminals. They'll save the world--for the right price.
I got exactly what I wanted out of this, so haters be damned. The anime is a masterpiece and a classic, but if you're not in the mood for the existentialism and other heavier themes, here ya go. 3/3 shower-bath-showers.
4. The Black Phone
After being abducted by a child killer and locked in a soundproof basement, a 13-year-old boy starts receiving calls on a disconnected phone from the killer's previous victims.
Near perfect, as far as I'm concerned. The older I get, the more kids-in-danger as a concept fucks with me, making this the most stressful movie I watched this year (though It Chapter One gave it a run for its money, and I still think they would make a great double feature). 5/5 black balloons.
3. Evil Dead (2013)
Five friends head to a remote cabin, where the discovery of a Book of the Dead leads them to unwittingly summon up demons living in the nearby woods.
It's gnarly. It's badass. I almost puked. I had THE BEST time. The story works as an effective allegory, the effects are gruesomely awesome, and the finale is metal af. Plain and simple. 70,000/70,000 gallons of fake blood.
2. The Crow
A man brutally murdered comes back to life as an undead avenger of his and his fiancée's murder.
Beautiful, sad, aesthetic for days, hella good soundtrack. *chef kiss* I still haven't seen The Batman, but they seem visually similar, so if you like that, you'll probably like this. For more in-depth thoughts, read my post. 1/1 epic rooftop guitar solos.
1. The Fall Of The House Of Usher
To secure their fortune (and future) two ruthless siblings build a family dynasty that begins to crumble when their heirs mysteriously die, one by one.
Not just a new favorite Mike Flanagan. A new favorite in general, and my number one for the year. I just screamed about this one last month, and I don't have anything more to add. I've seen Succession comparisons, and while I have no idea how accurate that is, there's my "if you like that, here's this." Holy crap. 7/7 deadly sins personified.
Happy New Year! 🥂
#yearly round up#watch a thon 2023#tfothou#the crow 1994#evil dead 2013#the black phone#cowboy bebop netflix#dnd honor among thieves#evil dead rise#requiem for a dream#wolf creek#guillermo del toro's cabinet of curiosities
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JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH X READER
WARNING: slight mention of blood and swearing. Little angst. Good ending.
You and soap are probably the only ones that known each other before the crew. Which is also the reason why you two are so close. This friendship goes all the way back to high school when you two first actually met.
It felt like yesterday, two young teen, still fooling around and causing trouble. The first few months of high school had just started and this was your first year. You were really bad in new places and having to get into a huge place with a bunch of judgemental teenagers was the worst nightmare for you. Walking around the halls you look around the place trying to spot your own locker. You walk around and find the right number. You take out the keys you were given when signing your name, and opened the locker. You face scrunched up in disgust when seeing the inside. Did they seriously forget to clean the lockers during the summer? It looked like 10 different animals lived here and each leaving a horrible mess behind. You quickly shut the locker and made a mental note to come and deep clean the locker since you weren't going to risk smudging up your new notebooks.
Your ears caught the horrible sound of teenage laughter and your head turned around meeting a small group surrounding a shorter boy. You took gentle steps towards the boys as not to alert them and started listening.
"Weren't you already weird enough that you had to have a weird hair cut to add to it?" The tallest of them all shouted with a ugly grin causing what seemed to look like his minions laugh.
The young boy who was the victim just looked down without any specific emotion on his face and tried to ignore them. You didn't understand what they were talking about. The mohawk seemed to suit him very well in your opinion and made him look quite attractive.
You weren't really feeling like putting yourself in some sort of situation especially on your first day, so you decided to just wait around just in case anything gets-
"I'm fucking talking to you!" The tall one hissed as he aggressively took a hold of the boys collar and leaned him closer towards him.
Without hesitation, the boy punched him right on his nose causing him to let go. The boy groaned in pain while holding his bloody nose and glared back at the victim.
"You're going to fucking regret that" he yelled and his minions held the poor boy down for the big one to beat.
There was already a circle forming around the group, many which held up phones to record it. Without thinking you pushed your way through the circle and made your way towards the center.
Looking horrified, you watched as the biggest guy beating up the poor boy. So without thinking you shouted.
"Hey dude what the fuck is your problem!?" You yelled and glared right at the one who was beating the poor guy.
Everyone's eyes were on you now, including the group in the middle. This situation made you gulp and instantly regret it, especially when the guy stood up suddenly and started stomping towards you.
"What the hell did you just say to me?"
"I said what the fuck-" Feeling nervous you quickly went to respond but was cut off by the loud ringing of the bells. The guy glared at you and walked away with his group without a word. The now uninterested circle went to hurry towards the classes, which only left you and the poor beat up guy. You gently crouched down next to the poor guy and helped him up.
"Are you alright?" You spoke gently helping him to his feet.
He let out a few coughs before speaking.
"Yeah, thanks, if it weren't for you, I'd probably be talking without teeth" he chuckled causing a small smile to form on your lips.
"Whats your name?" He asked changing the subject.
"Y/N L/N, you?" You responded.
"I'm John MacTavish, but I prefer being called Johnny," he said shrugging and smiling towards you. Smiling back you started walking to your class, you had discovered you both have the same classes, so Johnny decided to be a gentlemen and guide you through the whole place, this was his third year in hight school and had gotten known everything.
After that day, your friendship blossomed. You two became inseparable and hung out during ever break. It took no time before you two became best friends and shared everything together.
There were still times where people bothered the both of you, and you had become known as 'the weirdo's girlfriend'. But being together made it no problem for you, if anything, it made your friendship stronger.
After Johnny graduated, he stood by your side and supported you till the end. It was no problem as Johnny told you about the exams and taught you everything you needed to know.
After your own graduation, you both decided to join the military force, and when the leaders noticed your skills, you were quickly put to a crew.
The 141, had welcomed you both with open arms, and you two had fit in without a issue.
It had passed 6 years since then, and now you feel like a family, and feel the closest to Johnny.
But these past few days, Johnny had been acting really weird around you, which made you concerned and you thought maybe you had something to upset him. You had tried many time to communicate with him, but each time he would find an excuse and leave you. You started feeling frustrated, but decided to give him space. Maybe he had gone bored with you? That thought alone made you break. Did he have enough with you? Did he feel annoyed by your presence?
You started to feel disappointed and eventually gave up on trying to talk to him.
The depressing days passed, and it was the night were you all were finally off and could enjoy yourselves at a nearby bar.
Everyone was having an amazing time, and so did you. And in a long time in a while, you felt happy. But you couldn't stop stealing glances at Johnny. You caught him staring a few times but shrugged it off.
You were having a small laugh with Ghost at his little story he was telling, about how he managed to scare Price and how hideous he looked when gotten angry.
You chuckled at the story, but your eyes caught the angered Johnny leaving the bar.
Your eye brows frowned and you excused yourself to go to him. It was time to finally give him a piece of your mind. How could he just let you go so easily? Especially when you had gotten feelings for the troublemaker. You had found out about your feelings 3 years ago, but pushed them away, as you didn't want to ruin the amazing friendship you and him made.
So walking towards him, you noticed him standing and staring off the distance.
"What are you doing here?" He asked without looking at you, which made you even more angry.
"I was here to solve what ever is made" you spoke as you now stood next to him. His eyes slowly trailed from the shining starts towards your upset eyes. His eyes softened at your expression and a soft sigh escaped his lips.
"There's nothing to solve Y/N..." He said shrugging looking the other way to avoid your gaze.
"What!?" You said laughing sarcastically.
"You seriously think I'm going to believe that? Seriously Johnny, what is going on!? Why are you avoiding me?" You said now your eyes slowly forming tears.
He let out an annoyed groan and finally stared at you.
"You know what? Yeah, I've been avoiding, but isn't it obvious why? It's literally obvious doll, open your pretty fucking eyes!" He finally let out causing you to step back from his sudden outburst.
"Yes, yes! I'm extremely dense! why are you ignoring me? Did I do something?" You said your voice becoming softer after each word.
The man before you, sighed once again and placed his hands on both of your cheeks.
He gently raised your head to meet his gaze and your tears had now slowly run down.
"Just, just don't say anything. Just look at me and try and find the answer yourself." You didn't say anything and just stared at his beautiful bright blue eyes and your eyes softened at the look in them.
The looked so, peaceful.
Then it hit you, your eyes widened and your mouth opened.
He was in love.
With you.
How could you been so oblivious? The way he would ignore you when you're around and nervously avoid your eyes, or how he looked annoyed when another member spoke to you. And how his face reddened when he spoke to you.
It was all there.
John could tell you had find the answer, and without speaking he slowly leaned your face closer towards his face with his hands still on your face.
His lips was slowly placed on yours, and you had never felt so magical before. You had never exprinced this feeling before.
Johnny was the first men that you had ever grown fond of, and his lips being on yours, was the most perfect thing for you.
Slowly, you relaxed and your hands held into his vest, trying to bring him closer.
This was your first kiss. It was so prefect. It was under the shiny stars and moon, in a beautiful weather during night, and with your ideal and dream man. Nothing could beat the feeling.
Slowly pulling away, he just gazed in your own eyes. His eyes filled with pure love. So was yours small smile was formed on both of your faces, and his thumb on both sides of your face, started to slowly rub you, and you gently falling towards his touch. This night truly felt magical. Your so happy this happened and that you finally brought back the man you once stood up for.
Neither of you spoke, just looked at each other. But it was no bother, both of your eyes told each other all it had to be said.
:)
#wholesome#call of duty#cod#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#Soap cod#soap call of duty#Soap x reader#sweet#romance#cute#highschool#in love#kiss#x reader#john mactavish x reader#johnny x reader
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Sparrow Oak Garcia Cosplay Part 5 (boring math edition)
Shirt
Dear Amazon,
I'm sure you're inflating the wait time like the lines at Disney World, but I cannot comprehend why you estimate that it should take seventeen days after receiving my returned microwave to refund me my money.
Many Thanks,
A person who really wants to buy a specific shirt pattern with their microwave return money
Pants
I was so ready to start cutting the patchwork squares. Absolutely so ready! I had a video tutorial and everything! Then I measured the width of all of the fabric since they shrank varying amounts after being washed and I was suddenly aware that I had no idea what my yardage was once I started cutting it down. And as a dyscalculic nightmare of a human, I started freaking out and turning into the sewing equivalent of this gif.
But after some mild panic I was like okay, let's measure the size of these babies. I quickly realized that I was going to have so much left off since the thinnest piece was 9inches across and I was thinking about doing six inch squares.
Then I remembered that I was altering the pattern because this particular pattern is very confusing in how it's supposed to look and I decided to avoid it entirely.
Like, looking at the line art, I wanted the C pants, but then when they show the C pants in the picture they look nothing like them? And my brain just can't figure out what's going on. So to avoid that uncertainty, I was like...what if I just cut the pattern off at the line before the weird little tulip thingies and just use elastic to bring it in like the view for the D pants. So to ease the process of figuring out how many squares I needed, I bit the bullet and did probably my least favorite step of any sewing project process...tracing my pattern pieces.
I was relieved to find I only needed to trace four pattern pieces (and one was the elastic guide which doesn't really feel like it counts)
I was then trying to decide if it was long enough to satisfy my pants needs, and even though I measured the pattern and then measured it against my legs, I was nervous it was still shorter than I wanted it because I dunno, patterns do that when you put them down. It got to the point where I just straight up took off the pants that I was wearing that were like...around a similar length to what I wanted and put them on the table to compare.
Being like 70% satisfied with that comparison, I then utilized the grid pattern on my craft table to calculate the size of the patchwork panel each piece would need and then did some math to it.
Was it the most precise math? No, but it was imprecise in the direction to err to give me more yardage than calculated. Then I played with two different square sizes. One that was approximately five inches and one that was approximately four inches. The 5 inch version ended up with only 6 panels for the entire height of the pants which felt super underwhelming, so I opted for the four. Then after some math, I got to the result of needing 120 squares (and that would give me a little room to play with the length if I decided the pant legs were too short). I then ran the numbers the square against my fabric and found it would yield 176 squares which was a huge relief because I also wanted to make some panel pockets for the back and knew I needed some wiggle room.
Accessories
Someone brought a bunch of stickers in to work for people to take and I liked that there were Oak leaves in this one. I'm not super sure what or how to incorporate it into something, but figured it might be worth having just in case.
I also remade some Love Wolf kandi with better elastic. So, ta-da!
Sparrow Cosplay: Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
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Leather and Lace: Chapter 10
Santiago "Pope" Garcia x fem! OC
Masterlist
Chapter 9: Chapter 11
Summary: This is mostly just fluff, smut and comfort. I just wanted to give them a day together <3
A/N so long. it's gonna go: smut, shower fluff and comfort, more fluff, more smut (idk what happened here I popped off), more comfort. There will be scenes cut into flashback of the night before, where Laci talks to Santi about what actually happened. These parts are potentially very triggering but I put them all in italics as I always do with flashbacks, so if you want to read but are concerned about that content, you can just skip over italics.
Also, to the anon who left this shitty ask, I assure you, people do care about this story, and they care about Laci. She is not a raped bitch, disgusting or an idiot. She's doing great.
WARNINGS: Usual fic warnings for rape, sex trafficking, abuse, etc. Rape while on substances, substance use, mentions of STD's, physical abuse and death, nightmares, smt, NSFW, fingering, handjob, masturbation, oral (f recieving and kinda m), cum eating, 69.... lmk if I miss anything.
Santiago Garcia was luckiest man on the fucking planet. He knew that, the guys knew that, and after showing her off all night at Benny’s fight all wrapped in his arms and leather jacket, the whole town would know it too. Gossip spread fast. Santi had money, and although he didn’t waste it on extravagance, he knew he had the privilege of comfort and security. He had three of the best friends a man could have, three men who would have his back through anything, call him out on his bullshit and take care of the woman he loved. He had the most adorable little goddaughter on the planet, and although most of his blood family was dead, the life he built in this suburban Florida town was a happiness he never thought he was deserving of. Comfort, friendship, family.
Oh, and he had the prettiest girl had ever seen in his entire life, wearing his sleep shorts and his oversized Metallica shirt, in his bed, grinding her wet cunt on his thigh.
Luckiest man on earth, that was for sure.
“Fuck, Lace, you’re something else you know that?” His grip on her hip was tight, but she didn’t seem to mind. His other hand was wrapped around the base of her neck, fingers entangled in her hair as they guided her head to his for a passionate kiss, Santi licking into her and Laci biting on his lip whenever she had a chance. His boxers had ridden up, and he could feel her wetting his thighs. Santi ran the hand on her hip up to her breast, palming her through the shirt. His shirt. "All those men at Benny's fight eyeing you, watching you, but they don't get you, they'll never get to touch you, right?”
Laci’s hands massaged into his scalp. “Never, only you, wore your jacket, wanted to show them I’m yours, wanna be yours, only yours.”
“You’re mine, beautiful. And I’m yours, you have me, body and soul”
Her fingers tugged at his hair needing something to hold in the intensity building in Laci’s stomach. “S-Santi…” She whined out, one of her hands going to grip his shoulder for stability. Laci angled herself further so that his leg nudged perfectly against her clit. “Need more, need a little more.” She begged.
Santi moved both hands down to her hips again, pressing her body heavier down onto him, eliciting a choked out sob as the electricity shot through her. “That better, Munequita?”
A high pitched ‘uh-huh’ was all she could manage other than a slurred “s’good”, eyebrows pinched together as her shaky breath signified how close she was.
“Can’t believe I get to have you here with me, only I get to see you like this huh? Unraveling just from fucking yourself on my thigh? Think you can give me one like this, sweet girl? Soak my shorts in your come?”
Laci, despite tightly closed eyes and rapidly accelerating heart threatening to beat out of her chest, rested her forehead on Santi’s and took one of his hands off her thigh. He watched her carefully. She was still moving on his, but he made sure this wasn’t a signal to stop.
With a thrill that shot through his achingly hard erection in her boxers, Laci slipped his hand between his leg and her. She planted a light kiss on his sweaty forehead. “I think that ship sailed, baby”
Baby such a simple pet name and it just took his breath away. “Fuck, your soaked. Can I make you come like this, then lick you clean until you come again?”
“Fuh, god, fuck, Santi, please” her left over mascara was smudged from sleep, and Santi made a mental note to get make-up remover wipes so he could take care of her face after they got dressed up. (And they would be getting dressed up again, Laci deserved nothing but the best) but right now, he enjoyed how fucked out and wrecked she looked for him.
“Gonna come on my leg, Lacina? Gonna use me, show me how I don’t even need my hands to get you off, drown those shorts so they always smell like you?”
“Santi, so close, don’t stop” Don’t stop any of it, the way he ground her hips down, the way his filthy mouth just kept talking…
Pope was happy to oblige. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby, love having you here, love waking up to you, loving having you in my bed and finally getting to taste you, better than I ever imagined.”
“You, hm” She whimpered, face all scrunched up.”You thought of me?”
Santi couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course I thought of you, Lace, I fell asleep every other night with you on top of me, you think I could know how you feel and not think of you? Think I tasted your mouth, and didn’t imagine what you’re pretty little cunt tasted like?”
Laci kissed along his neck, her grip on his shoulders seeming to tight with every drag of her pussy up his thigh. He continued talking, the sound of his voice alone about having her spill over.
“Thought of you too, Santi” She muttered, breath hot against his ear.
Santi had woken up hard, how could he help it when such a pretty woman was in his arms. “Oh yeah? That right?”
“Y-yeah. Would put a pillow between my legs and ride it just like this, pretending it was you. Imagined your fat cock up in me, claiming me as yours”
“Fuck baby, jesus christ” He sputtered out, incomparibly turned on by the sound of his sweet, innocent acting girlfriend saying such dirty words.
“All those nights we kissed, I wanted you to take me right there on the couch, wanted to wiggle my way down your body take off those stupid sweats that leave nothing to the imagination and take you down my throat, choke on you as you feel me swallowing you down .”
“Fuck! Fuck Lace, shit” Santi kissed her pretty little mouth, licking into her. He wasn’t going to last, that was for damn sure. He knew she wasn’t ready for penetrative sex and blowjobs yet, and that was fine by him. Right now, he felt like he could be content with this forever, the stimulation of her thighs rubbing along his cock as she rode him being more than enough. “I know you don’t want hickies, but you can give them to me, if you want” He felt her smile against his neck before she began sucking into him. A high pitched wine escaped her mouth, and when her orgasm came, Laci bit down right where his shoulder and neck connected, and dug her fingers into the flesh of his shoulder. The beautiful sting of her teeth being enough to send him over the edge, his large hands gripped her hips far tighter than he meant. “Lace! Fuck!” He shouted as he felt his release, warmth filling his pant leg.
She collapsed on him, his strong arms catching her, gluing her still-clothed body to him, rubbing her back one hand, her neck with his other. “Fuck baby, you did so good, thank you.” He kissed her neck. “Thank you, Lace.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck, her hair tickling his face.
“Why are you thanking me?” She asked, still breathless from her orgasm and finally being with him.
“For trusting me with yourself”
“But… I haven’t even done that. You don’t even get to have all of me, I’m not-”
He held her tighter. “This is enough. More than enough.”
“Hm” Was all she replied as she snaked her hand down his stomach, ready to jerk him off like the night before, when his hand stopped her, prompting her to look at him.
“That’s uh, that’s already taken care off” He smiled at her lovingly.
She stared at him, confused for a moment until the realization dawned on her face. “Oh shit” She giggled out, reaching back to feel the wet spot in his pants, then grinning back at him. “All that just from me riding your thigh?”
“There was some stimulation from your leg rubbing on my dick, but yeah” She grinned back.
Laci carded her hands through his graying hair. “You get off without even being inside me? That’s… that’s insane” She laughed out again, bewildered at the idea.
“Lace” Santiago cupped her face, bringing her lips in for a kiss. “You have no idea how you make me feel, do you? No idea how special you are to me. Sometimes I think I could cum just from watching you bring me pizza rolls”
She kissed the tip of his nose. “Yeah, but you really like pizza rolls”
Santiago pressed him for head to hers, hands skirting up her sides “I do really like pizza rolls” he started tickling her, laying her giggling form back on the bed “but I also really like you”
They got up to take a shower before going to the park. Jana had woken them up this morning calling Santi (he was usually up by this hour, but last night's activities and the woman he loved finally in his arms made for a good sleep.) It was her and Rosie’s first day back in town, and she wanted Frankie to see Rosie. The agreement had been that Santi would accompany Frankie for the first meet up or two, so Jana could make sure he really was getting sober. One of the guys or Jana had to be with Frankie while he was with Rose until Jana felt safe that he wouldn’t relapse. Jana had of course invited Laci along, wanting to meet her finally. Santi himself hadn’t seen Jana since before Laci came into his life, but they had communicated through text when one was worried about Frankie. He always respected Jana for never trying to alienate Frankie from his daughter.
Laci and Santi had spent much of the night talking, Laci opening up about what had happened to her more and more.
“There was one guy, I don’t know where we were at the time, but it wasn’t where you found me. He was nicer. His name was Jaimie, younger than most of the others, younger than me. He was really nice most of the time.” Laci sat between Santi’s legs, he held each of her hands, squeezing the left, then the right, one after the other. “For a while I thought he was a safe person, we got along, he taught me some spanish. Snuck me food when the others were seeing how long I lasted without it. But when he kissed me, I tried to say no. In the end he was just like the others, he just didn’t beat me.” She tried to focus on the gentle squeeze of her hand. In therapy, if she was getting anxious or over whelmed, her therapist had a machine that Laci would hold two items in her hands and they would alternate vibrating. When Laci started to freeze while she tried to talk to him about what happened, she asked him to holder like this, to which he happily obliged, picking her up and plopping her in between his legs.
“That must be really difficult, thinking you had someone you could trust in all that, only for him to hurt you too” Santi tried to say enough to show he was listening, to show he cared, but to allow her all the talking she needed. He continued alternating squeezes.
“I think that’s why I was so hesitant when you guys found me. I should’ve trusted you. I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart, no.” He wanted to hug her, but he kept on his repetition movement. “You had no reason to trust us. You were right to have been on guard.”
Laci scoffed. “Maybe if I had been on guard, I wouldn’t have been in that position in the first fucking place. The investigator was right, I never should’ve crossed the border with someone I barely knew.”
“Laci, no-”
“Don’t say it. Don’t say it’s not my fault, just let me be miserable.”
Santi crossed their attached hands across her chest, turning her slightly to look at him. “You can be miserable if that’s how you feel, but baby, I will never hesitate to tell you it’s not your fault. Ever. Because it isn’t, none of it is. And I hope you know I don’t blame you, neither do any of the guys.”
“I know.”
Santi peppered her with kisses as he undressed her, kneeling down as he pulled down his shorts that barely hung to her barely-there hips, glancing over the scars that were sporadically litter across her skin, but pausing at the bruises.
She watched him trail the pads of his calloused fingers over them. “Santi, are you oka-”
He looked up at her. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no baby…” That was a lie. “You could never hurt me.”
He shook his head, going to stand up, but his knees wobbled a bit. Laci caught him and helped him up. He sighed, gently holding her face with one hand and trailing the neckline of his shirt on her. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time”
She stopped him, “Santi, don’t you dare apologize for anything that happened last night. You are perfect, last night was perfect. I’m going to bruise a bit, I’m pale and underweight.” Laci winced a bit at the mention of her weight, something that had plagued her long before she was taken, and something they never talked about. “And, baby, I like the bruises.” She kissed his softening features. “Reminds me it was real, that you’re real, not just another dream.”
Santi relaxed, smiling. “You dreamed about me?” He stripped off her shirt, taking her perfect body to him again, and he knew then that she’d never stop
A bright pink flushed her cheeks as she looked away. “Shush”
Not wanting to embarrass her further, he didn’t push it, only smiling as he started the shower and peeled off his sticky pants, leaving him bare. Santi reveled in the chance to care for her, using his shitty body shampoo and wondering if he still had some lotion he could rub on her afterwards so it didn’t dry out her skin. Laci keened into his every touch. So responsive for me… he thought to himself, and wondered what she’d feel like taking all of him… shit, fuck, not the time, not the time. Her back pressed against his chest, she rested her head back against him, melting into his touch. She reached for his shampoo, but Santi grabbed his hand.
“Can I take care of you?” Santi asked softly. I’m
“You always take care of me”
“And I never want to stop, muñequita”
Their peaceful moment was only briefly interrupted as Santi massaged her scalp, her short height making for easy access. Santiago inadvertently knocked over the almost-full shampoo bottle, causing a loud, echoing thud, Laci immediately turning to cling to him, her arms clutched to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her in turn. For a moment, she was shaking in his arms as Santi rubbed the skin exposed to him.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I know that was loud, I’m here, you’re okay.”
She knew that, of course. He was her rock, her safety, her home. She signed. ‘I’m sorry’
“Hey, hey no, don’t be sorry.” He cradled her head as the warm shower fell on them. “Will and I can’t do fireworks, Benny is scared of dogs because he was attacked in his teens, nothing to be sorry for.” Santi looked down, she was still staring at the wall, looking vacant. “Hey, baby, come back to me.” Santi gently lifted her face up to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”
“I met him at a bar” Laci focused on his hand squeezing hers. “I don’t remember exactly what I was on that night, not anything heavy, coke was the worst of it. Molly maybe? Or maybe it was just acid. Who knows. But he took me home that night.”
She felt Santi’s chest rise dramatically at that, knowing what had happened. She didn’t remember much as that night, just vague flashbacks to sweaty bodies.
“That should’ve been my warning. But that morning he held my hair as I threw up, bought me food. No one had really taken care of me since my brother died… I was between places at the time, so I stayed with him... I don’t really want to go into that relationship right now, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, Lace, whatever you’re comfortable with”
Still rested up against him, Laci made a gun with her hand.
“They shot guns around you?”
She motioned it shooting over her head and on either side of her head.
“Oh, they’d threaten you? Shoot them by you to scare you?” He held her tighter.
She nodded, then motioned loading a barrel, spinning it and firing.
“Russian roulette?”
She nodded again, sinking back into him.
Santi patted her hair down. “I’m sorry baby, that sounds horrible” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to talk more, or would you rather get ready to meet Frankie and Rosie.”
Nodding her head to the side, she cued to him that she was ready to get going. As Santiago and her dressed for the day, she seemed to have recovered from her flashback, starting to talk again in the little bits that she did when she would when she was gaining her voice back. Santi tried to act normal. Laci had opened up a lot the last few days. She had forgiven his mistakes, let him into her heart and body, and he knew it was very important to not let her notice. There was a familiar fury that was flowing with his blood, and he hoped to god she didn’t sense it, and if she did, he hoped she didn't think it was at her. But he couldn’t tell her what he was actually thinking.
Many times in these months, Santi had found himself glad that everyone in the house he found her in was dead. Sometimes, throughout his career, there were people he felt guilt over killing; Will remembered the exact number. But these men were the kind he didn’t feel bad for about, even going so far as feeling borderline pride. These were bad people who hurt women and children, the kind that beat, tortured, and raped them, and now they were dead, so that not only was Laci safe, but anyone else that came in their path.
But the boyfriend. Her boyfriend. The one that sold her into sexual slavery, he was still out there, and was likely still doing it to others.
He was going to have to leave her. Not now, and not for long. The guys would help. Benny had a lot of connections and Frankie was good at tracking people down.
They were going to find him, and Santi was going to kill him.
The afternoon was warm, gearing up for the hot, muggy Florida summer. Laci just had to break out shorts. She almost always wore dresses; pretty dresses that fluttered around her thighs, tempting him all these months. He never thought someone could look so, so good in just a pink tank top and white washed denim with white lace. She did seem to like lace… was that because of her name? Or was it just a physical representation of her soft femininity, going along with the pink and the pastel and the skirts…
And she just had to walk in front of him. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get her back home and bury his face between her thighs again.
“Despertarse, hermano” Frankie's voice broke him out of his daydream
“Sorry” Santiago was not sorry.
Jana and Laci were walking ahead, Jana allowing Frankie time with his daughter without feeling like he was under supervision. Santi wondered what they were talking about, nosy shit that he is. Laci started out so quiet, barely able to talk,it was nice to see her able to talk to people other than him, Frankie, Ben and Will. She was nervous in the beginning of course, wanting Jana to like her, since she spent so much time with her daughter.
“I’m so happy to meet you, you must think I’m so weird, always being with Rosie and you’ve never met me…” Laci started after Frankie introduced them.
But Jana is a warm person, greeting Laci like an old friend. “Would it be okay if I hugged you? You can say no, I just feel like I know you already”
Laci grinned and nodded, hugging Jana back.
Santi pushed the stroller, but Frankie was holding Rose, not wanting to be separated after so long apart and struggling with sobriety. As long as Frankie hadn’t gotten high behind their backs, he was two weeks sober.
“Ow! What the hell, Fish!” Santi exclaimed as Frankies free hand stopped him, turning his chin.
Laci turned around, a pointed glare at Santi “language!” She had a strict rule around swear around Rose.
Laughing, Jana patted her on her back. “You tell ‘em honey, glad Santi has someone to keep him in line” and stuck out her tongue. Fuck, those girls were going to be trouble. It occurred to him that although Laci had Ben, she didn’t have any female friends. He hoped Jana would be that for her. There was something powerful in feminine friendships, a set of shared experiences and understandings that Santi simply could not know.
They walked further ahead, allowing Frankie room to tease his best friend.
“You look like you took a vacuum cleaner to your throat” He said, referencing the litany of hickies on his neck.
Santi couldn’t help the shit-eating grin on his face. “Yeah, she didn’t want me to mark her, but boy, she didn’t mind giving them to me” They began to walk again, talking quieter.
“So that means you guys finally sealed the deal?”
“Uh, no, not quite.”
Frankie gave him a look to keep going.
“I don’t want to kiss and tell, but there was some mouth and hand stuff.”
Fish smacked his arm, laughing. “Mouth and hand stuff? Are you a fucking teenager?” Laci definitely can’t hear them, she would have chastised Frankie for swearing.
“I feel like one! This morning I came in my fucking pants just from her riding my thigh”
“Jesus" Frankie balked. “So, you guys haven’t had sex yet.”
“No, we almost did, but she’s not ready. Honestly, with some of the things she’s told me, I’m not sure she’ll ever be.” He watched his beautiful girlfriend, sun glowing on her golden hair that she parted into pigtails that reminded him of Bubbles from the Power Puff Girls, face slightly turned as she talked. She was smiling, she was happy. That’s all he needed.
“You gonna be okay with that?”
“Frankie…” Santi sighed out with a bit of a laugh. “If you experienced what I did last night and this morning, you’d be okay with that too.”
“The first place I went it was just one man, and it wasn’t the worst. I mean, it was awful, but compared to how things went later it just, I don’t know, I’m not mitigating it.”
“I know what you mean, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“I don’t even know how many times I was sold, by the second person I just got… passed… It was multiple… well there was multiple people, I couldn’t really keep track of who owned me.”
Santi wanted to interrupt her, tell her they didn’t own her, no one ever owned her, but he knew that wasn’t the point. He wouldn’t get hung up on semantics, but he would do his best to help her reclaim her autonomy.
“I remember thinking, and this just… this a weird thought, what a weird thing to think.”
“It’s not weird, whatever it is”
“It was just… multiple men. I kept thinking ‘How do they not all have std’s?’ Well, turns out I was right about that. I thought ‘Oh my god, I’m going to die of syphilis like Al Capon’ which is just a strange dot to connect” Laci breathed out a small, nervous laugh. She had been put on antibiotics as soon as she had her initial exam at the doctor at the embassy. Everything cleared up fine, she was fine, but Santi knew she was humiliated on top of everything. “When it would happen, you just kinda… you go somewhere else. Just try not to exist in the moment, which probably sounds insane.”
Santi shook his head. “It’s not exactly the same, but in the military I’ve seen a lot of things and there’s some stuff you just… you can’t do anything about, you just have to get through it, so you go somewhere else mentally to get through it.”
She squeezed his hands back in reassurance.
Santi was knuckled deep in Laci, the moonlight shining and illuminating her skin, bare and open for him and he laid beside, grinding his erection against her soft, soft thigh. “You ever sat on someone's face?”
Laci burst out in a quick laugh, before realizing he wasn’t joking. “Oh. Uh, no. People actually do that?” She smiled nervously.
“Oh, people most definitely do.” He kissed into her neck. “Wanna try?”
“How do you breathe?”
Santi shrugged, grinning. “Suffocating between the legs of a beautiful woman is how I’ve always wanted to die, baby”
She smacked his chest with a blushing laugh. “I’m serious! I don’t want you to die, dummy.”
Slightly more serious, he reassured her. “I always do, Lace, I can breathe fine. We don’t have to, don’t worry.”
Laci seemed to be considering it for a moment. “Santi?”
He cupped her face gently, kissing the crease in the corner of her mouth. “Yes, Lacina?”
“What do you get out of this?”
The question caught him by surprise. “Out of you sitting on my face?” He pulled his fingers out of her wet pussy.
She shook her hand. “No… when you…” Laci squirmed a bit. “No, when you go down on me, I don’t see why you do it.”
Santiago sat on on his arm, still holding her close. “I know the people you’ve been with probably have been too full of shit to realize it, but you are a gift, Laci. The way you look, the way you laugh, the way you smile, fuck, the way you smell and the way you taste.” Santi brought the wet fingers to his lips, sucking them and really emphasizing the moan he couldn’t help but let out. “Fuck baby, you taste amazing, why wouldn’t I want eat you out?” He teased, and watched her smile, but continued. “I know you aren’t ready for sex, I don’t want you to worry about that for a second.”
“I don’t know when I will be…”
Santi kissed her deeply, nibbling a bit on her lower lip and dragging it out as he pulled away. “That’s okay, it’s okay if you never are. What we have now is all I need.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now, will you sit on my face, or should I eat you like this?“
She grinned widely. “I’ll do it”
He wanted to make her say it. “Do what? Say it baby, say what you want?”
Despite being the only people in the house, Laci leaned in to whisper. “I want to sit on your face”
Without further ado, Santi lifted a squealling Laci up and over his head. “Don’t just hover, sit down.”
Laci complied, sitting down fully and nearly-automatically moaning at the feeling of his tongue attaching her cunt, his large nose nudging against her clit “Fuck, fuck Santi shiiiit!” She leaned over, bracing herself against his firm chest. Fuck, was he smiling under there? Smug bastard, he knew what he did to her. How had she gone this long without him? Now that she knew his touch, Laci couldn’t imagine being without it. “Santi, more, please?”
Happy to comply, Santi gripped her hips, albeit softly, pulling her down. Laci knew he was holding back, concerned about the bruises he left on her before. She placed her hands over his and forced him to grip the meat of her hips. When she let go, he did not, massaging along her thighs and he vigorously licked into her, lapping up every drop he milked out as she rocked her hips back and force for the stimulation she needed on her clit, his five o’clock shadow perfectly rubbing against her folds. Laci’s view from here was divine. Her eyes trailed over the body in front of her; strong arms, strong chest, brown skin and writhing legs. She remembered their night in the forest, Santi taking off his over shirt to give to her (fuck, he was thoughtful) she saw a peak of his stomach as the long sleeve pulled his t-shirt up, showing off a firm stomach. That had changed. He had definitely gained some weight alongside her, despite his mini home gym of weights and a treadmill he bought when she moved in. Laci was in love with the way he looked, his body was so fucking perfect, he was perfect, everything she ever wanted.
Very much noticeable, also, was his hard cock standing at attention, shit, she did all that to him? Just the taste of her got him that hard? Fuck, she wanted him in her mouth, she wondered if he’d taste as good as he thought she did… just a taste… Laci walked her hands down further, taking his cock in her hand as Santi’s mouth faltered. It looked so perfect, so pretty. A full blowjob with all 8 inches made her nervous, but she knew Santi would be okay with whatever she gave him, so she started with little kitten licks at the tip, tasting the pre-cum that was leaking out
She felt hip lift up her hips enough to talk. “Laci you don’t-”
“I know, Santiago, I want to. Can I take care of you?” She echoed the words he asked her in their shower this morning.
“You always take care of me.” He echoed her reply right back, and returned to his mission.
Fuck, he was good at what he did, that was sure. Santi moved her wherever she needed to be, depending if he wanted to suck on her clit or lick into her folds.
Santi was in fucking heaven. He tried his best to focus on her pleasure but if was hard when she was licking up and down his shaft, mouthing over him, sucking over the tip. Laci never fully put him in her mouth, he didn’t think she would, considering, but fuck if she didn’t feel amazing, and christ, the way she tasted. He never had a woman taste so sweet. Her ass was right in his eyeline, he wondered if she’d let him, move his mouth there, put a finger- you're getting ahead of yourself there Santi, put your fingers back in her cunt first.
A loud groan escaped her as she felt his large fingers reenter her. “Shit Santi, so close.” She sat back up, hearing a little whine escape him. “Touch yourself for me, Santiago, wanna see you come”
He loved hearing her say his full name; well, when they aren’t fighting anyway. It sounded so pretty rolling off her perfect pink lips. Santi did as he was told, fisting his cock tightly, hips bucking up at the feeling of her spit on his hand.
The sigh of Santi jerking himself while eating her almost sent her over, but she wanted him to go first. “Come for me Santi, let me see your perfect cock come all over your hand.” Laci didn’t know where these words came from, she never talked during sex before but fuck if he didn’t bring it out of her, him and his dirty fucking mouth. His breath against her cunt was hot as he cried out, his white spend spilling out, covering his fist and painting his stomach in warm ropes. Fuck, he comes hard, that’s the kind that could easily get her preg- fuck fuck fuck, no, don’t go there. Too late. The idea of him spilling inside her and filling her up sent her over the edge, collapsing back over him and her orgasm washed through her, her face pressed against his cum covered belly. As Santi licked her up, she didn’t know what possessed her; Laci started licking his stomach. He cleaned her, she’d clean him.
When Santi felt her lick him, it took a moment for him to realize what she was doing. For a second, he thought she was just licking him. Alright, he’d roll with that, whatever she was into; certainly not the strangest place he’d been licked.
Then he realized what she was licking, and his cock began twitching back to life again. Santi pulled her off him, sitting her up as he joined her, looking at her face covered in his come from where she rested on his stomach. “Lace baby, your face looks so good like this…” Santi takes the hand that was inside her, using the same two fingers to wipe against her cheek, tapping on her lips for her to open and she obliged. Putting his come soaked fingers in her mouth and the taste of her on his lips, Santi attached to her face, sucking and licking his spend off of her, only pulling back when Laci was clean and removed his fingers muttering “See how good we taste together?”
Santi was woken up that night to Laci thrashing in his arms, whimpering as sweat dripped down her face. She was having a nightmare. Santiago gently shook her awake. “Laci, Laci it’s me baby, you’re having a night-” When her eyes shot open, she gasped awake and immediately clung to him, gripping onto his life a lifeboat, her rock in the storm.
“Light” She pleaded.
“Oh course.” Santi start to sit up to get the lights, only intending on moving away from her for a moment when she shouted no and glued herself to him. “Okay…” with one arms, she held onto her crying and shaking body, and his other arm awkwardly and slowly scooted towards the lamp to get her light.
He let her cry it out first, then, she spoke. “There were other women. I never saw them for very long, but there was one girl. She spoke Russian, but we became friends. She tried to escape and they beat her to death. They made me watch.”
“Jesus christ, Lace, that’s fucking horrible”
“I have a lot of nightmares, but tonight was about her. I think Jana reminded me of her.”
Santi was not happy by any means that she was suffering so badly, but he was glad she was opening up to him and could still talk. Overwhelming emotions usually resulted in her not talking, like earlier today, but she was able to speak, tell him what she was feeling.
“You have a lot of nightmares? Fuck, Laci, I’m sorry I didn’t know-”
“I didn’t tell you for a reason. That’s why I’d always sleep on the couch with the TV. You can’t fix this, this is just how I am, I’m sorry”
Santi brushed her short blonde hair away from her face. “It’s okay, Munequita, it’s okay. I’m here for you if you need to talk, or just be held, we can get a nightlight if that helps, or we can get a TV in here too. Or we can sleep on the couch? Any time you want. I want to help if I can but if you and the nightmares are a package deal, I’ll be here for you”
“I know” Laci snuggled up to him, already feeling sleep pull at her. “I know”
**********
Anyway I hope you guys liked it even though it was long! I put off doing my spanish for this so lets hope I can get the practice test done before midnight lol. This took hours to write.
Two chapters left! Next chapter I think will be shorter, Laci/Benny focused, as Santi has a *mission* lol, then chapter 12 is completely fluff/smut wrapping everything up! Then, I start on my Will story <3
Hope that last sex scene was good I've never written 69 before!
That last anon left me feeling really shitty for a while, I hope you guys actually do like this work as it means a lot to me, either way, i love writing it a lot
Would anyone be interested in my thoughts for laci and the boys love languages? What do you guys think is there love languages. I think Santi’s is touch primarily ☠️ comment below! I’d love to hear what you think!!
Finally, I'm looking to write a few winter fics! If y'all have any requests you'd like to see with Santi and the guys, please send them to my ask box! (which I will be widdling down more asks after this week, so if you have an ask in there, dont mind me lol) Ice skating, getting a christmas tree, sleding with the team, sex by a fire place etc, if you'd like to see a leather and lace specific winter short, send away! I know most of you probably know I am converting to Judaism, but! I was raised catholic, don't worry if you'd like to see christmas specific fics. The Millers were at least canonically raised in a semi-christian household, and since no one is canonically jewish, im totally cool writing christmas works, more religious based or just basic christmas.
Love you guys!
@littlenosoul @bensolosbluesaber @milkymoon2483 @gogh-with-the-flow @itspdameronthings @trinkets01 @p0edameronswife @welcometostayingawake @spxctorsslxt @username21mk @lucianadraven32 @sgt-morgan @xaestheticalien @howaboutcastiel
Please reblog to spread, and your comments mean the world!
And I knowwwwww the gif is bad bc blue is bad but my god it’s just so tender and she’s got the short blonde straight her just like laci it was perfect
#santiago garcia#santiago pope garci#santi garcia#santiago garcia hurt comfort#santi garcia fanction#santiago garcia x reader#santiago pope garcia#triple frontier fic#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfiction#hurt/comfort#comfort#santiago garcia smut#santiago garcia comfort#santiago garcia fluff
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dinner for one (table for two)
he didn’t mean to be late again, he really didn’t. he’s just been forgetful lately. it wont happen again however, he promises you so.
pairing: corinthian x reader
word count: 1.4k
tags: gender-neutral!reader, implied reader is shorter than corinthian, fluff despite the title and summary lmao (though it does get a tad sad at the end).
notes: i don’t even remember how i got this idea all i know is that its bene sitting in my drafts for weeks and forgot about it until last night when i decided to finish it
The Corinthian was a creature known for many things. He is the Dream Lord’s masterpiece, a popular figure—dare he say, idol—amongst serial killers, a literal Nightmare, and also a boyfriend who was late to dinner. Again.
He had promised both himself and his partner that the first time would be the last but now it was nearing 10 p.m and he was still miles away from home. He’s barely even finished the meeting he’s in when he’s suddenly running to his car and stepping on the gas so hard he wondered if his car would blow at any second.
Thankfully, it didn’t and at around 11:46 p.m, Corinthian was in your driveway with a messy bouquet of flowers in one hand and a nervous—almost fearful—expression on his face. He had to take a second to try and calm himself down before actually knocking but when silence was his only response, he couldn’t feign calmness any longer.
There were two scenarios that filled his head at that very moment. The first, was that you were—understandably—angry and was refusing to even acknowledge him, and the second, was that something had happened to you and it was somehow his fault. Truthfully, he wished for neither but he knew to some degree, it would be one of the two. A part of him hoped it would be the first.
Fishing out his keys, he quickly unlocked the door and rushed inside to search for you, barely thinking about the flowers in hand as he checked the house.
“Darling?” He had called out as he stepped into the kitchen, there were pots and pans left in the sink to soak along with a perfectly set table with a dinner for one. Guilt washed over him at the sight knowing that you had probably sat in the seat opposite of his waiting for him to come home before you decided to simply eat alone. He’ll make up for this. He has to.
“Love?”
The living room was empty, along with the bathrooms and closets. Even your shared bedroom was empty and that was when his worries heightened.
Where were you?
The flowers were forgotten on the floor somewhere by now as the Corinthian all but roamed the house you shared. He had checked everywhere! There weren’t any traces of you having been forced out of the house but there also seemed to be no indication that you were still here. Unless someone had found a way to teleport inside your home and take you, there was no way that you could’ve just disappeared. Surely you’ve got to be here somewhere, but where could you have—
“Cori?”
For a second he was frozen at the sudden sound of your voice until he turned around. You were still on the opposite side of the door—he hadn’t even heard you open the door—with a plastic shopping bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other. Glancing past you in the doorway, the Corinthian realized it must’ve begun raining sometime after he got home. He hadn’t noticed.
“Sweetheart, look I’m so—” His apology was cut short as the door shut behind you and asked,
“How are you home so early?”
Early?
“Earl-Early? It’s almost midnight!”
Looking at you as if you had offended him, Corinthian saw the slightest hint of a smile on your lips before you said: “You forgot, didn’t you?”
Forgot?
Forget what?!
He had just missed dinner yet here you stood as if he was the victim of a successful prank. You should’ve been angry. Should’ve been anything but grinning up at him after he missed– Oh.
By now your smile was wide and almost bordering teasing as he pulled out his phone to confirm that he indeed did forget.
Today was Tuesday, and the Corinthian never came home until Wednesday due to his work. That was the routine the two of you had fallen into, meaning that he was never late for dinner in the first place and he had just rushed home with his heart in his throat for nothing.
Relief and embarrassment hit him both at once and the result was a very confused Corinthian standing in the middle of the hallway with no idea of what to do or say. Instead, your laughter filled the empty space around you and he found himself admiring the way your eyes basically twinkled in the dimly lit hallway. He didn’t even notice when you had closed the space between you two—or was it him?—but all of sudden you were in-front of him and his hand cupped your face before fingers traced the side of your jaw up towards your temple before just barely grazing over your eyelids.
“Should I be worried that you always do this?” You asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips barely brushing past the delicate skin that protected the peculiar organ he could never seem to get enough of. He simply chuckled before shaking his head ‘no’ and guiding your head to lean against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle.
“Alright then,” You said as you pulled away from him. He reluctantly loosened his arms to let you go. “Since you’re home now, how about some dinner?”
He followed you into the kitchen where he took the seat opposite of where the ready set meal was placed and watched as you stood opened the oven where leftovers of what you had cooked remained.
As he sat there he wondered why you had left a meal out if it was only Tuesday. Dinner was typically served and eaten at 9 p.m and currently it was well past midnight and a meal was still waiting in the spot he usually filled. Either that meant you hadn’t had dinner yet or you were expecting other guests. The lack of decoration and tidiness of the room however led him to believe that the latter was not the case.
“I had a strange feeling I’d have a guest tonight.” You said as you set down a plate of hot food in front of him. It was as if you had read his mind.
“Gut feeling, I think that’s what it is. Didn’t think it’d be you who showed up though, I would’ve made something else. I know you don’t particularly like this as much.” And while in most cases he would’ve made his own dinner whenever your tastes didn’t seem to align with his own, tonight Corinthian smiled at you before saying, “Perhaps a second try will change my opinion.”
Bringing a spoonful of food into his mouth, he tried to conceal his dislike for a particular ingredient that he didn’t favour all too much but it was such a strong part of the dish that he just couldn’t help it. Your cooking was wonderful and he’s enjoyed every single dish you’ve given him but he just couldn’t finish this one.
He was thankful you understood and even found amusement as he struggled to mask his distaste for the dish before finally swallowing it and reaching for his glass of water.
“How about we get some pizza, and maybe catch up on that show you haven’t been able to watch yet?” You suggested and while he would’ve eventually finished the meal you worked so hard on, he really couldn’t resist the offer of being able to have you in his arms for the rest of the night.
“I’ll give them a call.” He said as he got up and brought the plates towards the sink before going to place your order of pizza and drinks. Meanwhile, you headed towards the living room where blankets and pillows cushioned the couch as you set up the tv.
The Corinthian would be a day or so behind schedule now due to a minor hiccup in his planning, possibly even pushing his original plans to a much later date but Corinthian didn’t seem to mind the inconvenience at all.
With his limbs a tangled mess with your own as he listened to ramble about the scene playing on screen, he would postpone the rest of his plans if it meant he could live in this moment forever.
Humanity would still have lots to offer him even decades later but a love like this would surely not make it long in his lifespan. You wouldn’t. And no matter how hard he may try to defy fate and Destiny himself, he knew that the inevitable would one day come and he would once again be lonely. But until the dreadful day comes, he would drop every meeting he had if it called for a night like this. And perhaps be more mindful of when he’s supposed to be home.
#oneshot#the corinthian#the corinthian x reader#corinthian#corinthian x reader#the sandman x reader#the corinthian oneshot#corinthian oneshot#the sandman oneshot#gn!reader#the corinthian fluff#corinthian fluff#the sandman fluff
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In My Nightmares.
Summary: A “bonding” camping trip between the Pogues causes something to change between you and you sworn archnemesis, JJ.
WC: 4.2k
WARNINGS: Smut, smut, smut, language, arguments, underage drinking and smoking.
(Not proofread sorry)
JJ Maybank was a dick. an asshole, a douche, if you may. For whatever reason, the moment you both laid eyes on each other, it was war. Snide comments, blatant insults, and for some reason, weird sexual back talk filled the room whenever you both were 10 feet within each other.
It started the year you met the rest of the Pogues. You were Kiara’s friend from the Kook Academy and she decided to introduce you to her other friends, her family. It wasn’t awkward or anything, you all hit it off really easily, having something in common with all of them. Not JJ though, he was at your throat. He didn’t like the idea of someone else trampling into their group. especially a kook.
“Really? You’re just gonna invite someone random?” He snapped the moment you started getting along with the rest.
“Do we have an issue??” you spat back, glaring at him.
He scoffed, “Yeah, you. You’re the fucking issue.”
From then on, it’s been a cat and mouse game, going back and forth and back and forth. And then when Sarah was added to the group, he didn’t say shit. He wasn’t even angry and that made you upset. Why was he so pissed at you but not Sarah, the literal Kook princess?
Fast forward a couple of years and here you are. Closer with the Pogues than ever, not even considered a kook, you barely even went home, like today. You slept over at the Chateau after a night of drinking and partying, waking up with a killer hangover.
Slugging yourself off the couch, you dragged yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water. The door to John B’s room creaked open as Sarah walked out.
“Hey, morning.” She yawned, walking behind you to also grab some water.
“G’morning Sarah,” you smiled, “do you know if we have anymore Advil, my head is murdering me.” You shook your head.
Before Sarah could answer, she was cut off.
“Good, I hope it kills you!” JJ sneered as he walked into the kitchen, propping himself up onto the island. You rolled your eyes, raising your arm to flip him off as you continued searching the cabinets for meds.
“As I was gonna say, JJ used the last of it.” Sarah told you. Great, of course he did.
One by one, all the other Pogues began to wake up and the kitchen became more full with people. Sarah and Kie made pancakes for everyone while you and Pope sat on the couch, coming up for ideas on what to do for the day. John B and JJ waxed the surfboards, clearly wanting to surf.
“I think we should just drive around, you know do something relaxing.” Pope suggested. “Maybe chill on the beach.” He shrugged, leaning back onto the couch.
“Yeah, what about-” you were cut off when Kie yelled out for breakfast.
“Pancakes are done! Y/N could you get JJ and John B I think they’re out back.” You nodded and trotted off to find them,
You opened the door calling out to John B only. “John B pancakes are done, come eat before they go cold!” You ignored JJ as he turned his head to you, lifting an eyebrow while clearly waiting for you to acknowledge him too.
He very loudly cleared his throat, “Ahem.”
“Oh and for you JJ,” you paused for a moment, sarcastically thinking, “you can eat my ass.”
“The fuck??” He protested loudly as you snorted and ran back inside. You sat down at the table, eating away and passing the syrup around the table. JJ marched in and scanned the table.
“Your pancakes look good Y/N.” he smiled innocently.
Your stomach fluttered a bit at his smile. “They’re the same fucking pancakes as all the other ones.” You continued eating.
“Mind if I have a bite?” before you could deny and say no, he grabbed your whole plate and held it above you while his other hand was used to hold you down from tried to get it again.
“Stop it! Give it back asshole-”
“Kiss me for it.” He shrugged, a shit eating grin sprawling across his face.
The whole table went silent. This wasn’t the first time either of you said something like this. But it still made everyone uncomfortable, considering you both despise each other.
“Bleh. Keep it, I don’t want whatever STD you contracted from sleeping around with half the island.” You sat back down, giving up on fighting him for those cakes.
He snorts, eating from your plate.
“Um okay can you guys just admit you want to get into each other’s pants??” Kie blurted out with a disgusted look on her face.
You laughed loudly, pissing JJ off a little. “Me? Want to sleep with him?” You pointed at JJ. “I think I’d rather let Rafe oil me up and top me.”
“That’s gross Y/N.” Both Sarah and John B replied in sync.
“Rafe? That’s really saying something JJ.” Sarah snickered.
The blonde just rolled his eyes.
“I’m choosing to move on from this incredibly unsettling conversation. But I have an idea guys.” Kie proposed. “Let’s go camping! You know, like a little family bonding thing. Maybe JJ and Y/N will learn to love each other a little more when they share a tent.”
“What a great idea Kie!” Pope agreed in a very obvious way, it’s clear they both planned this out.
Both your head and JJ’s shook no.
“Absolutely not.” JJ refused.
“I agree with JJ, for the first time, like ever.”
“Well suck it up Buttercup ‘cause we’re going camping!” Pope grinned.
“Pope don’t like, ever say that again.” John B cringed a bit and everyone else chuckled a bit.
You groaned, going home to pack a bag. Pope gave you a ride in the Twinkie while everyone else prepared for the trip. A ball of thunder started churning in your stomach though, you did not look forward to going home and seeing your parents, and then have them scold your ear off while you decide to disappear again. It was a routine.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Pope asked softly, noticing your worry.
You shook your head no. “I gotta do this by myself.”
You sighed, climbing up the stairs to the back porch of your nice house. You tip-toed comically, trying to make the least sound possible as it was your intention to get your clothes and dip.
“Y/N.” Shit. It was your mom.
“Hi mom-”
“What the hell were you thinking disappearing like that? Are you crazy? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She bombarded you with a series of rhetorical questions.
“I don’t really know if I’m supposed to answer all four hundred of your questions.” You replied snidely.
“Don’t act stupid. You’re better than. We expect better from you. Now take your ass upstairs you’re grounded for disappearing like that. One week.” Your dad chimed in.
“A week? Are you serious? I’m just here to grab clothes- we’re going camping for a few days c’mon-” You dropped your bag and threw your hands up in the air.
“2 weeks. These people are not your friends they're a bad influence.” Your dad crossed his arms.
“Of course they’re my friends they’re my family- no you can’t do this.” You picked your bag up and scrambled around for your things, shoving your clothes and other stuff in your bag. “You can’t stop me from going.”
“Your family? Y/N we’re right here!”
The argument was loud, a loud screaming match between you and your parents. It was a losing battle because by the end of all of them, you gave up on fighting and left in silence.
“Y/N do not step foot out of this house!” Your mother yelled as you slammed the door shut, a sigh of relief and anxiety leaving you. You got into the truck, slamming the door.
“You heard all of that didn’t you.”
“I think you won that argument, I think.” He shrugged in attempt to make you feel better. He rubbed your back sympathetically.
You snorted, “Just drive Pope.” He always made you feel better.
He drove you back to The Chateau to pick up the rest of the crew. Pope honked the horn to call the rest out. They all walked to the car, buried in their own conversations as John B booted you out of the passenger seat while he held two six-packs.
“Could you move to the back, pretty pleaseeee Y/N,” John B pleaded with puppy dog eyes. You nodded and got down, “You’re the best.”
You climbed into the back with Sarah and Kie and settled in, joining their conversation. Engulfed in the topic, you didn’t notice JJ walk up to the door, he threw his bag at you.
“Ouch- fucking dick! God go make someone else hate their life,” you groaned, rubbing the spot on your head where the backpack hit you.
“Someone woke up with a dick in their ass. I wonder who’s!” JJ laughed
“Definitely not yours.” You moved away from him, leaning near Sarah. The blonde rolled his eyes.
You huffed, relaxing your shoulders. You were tired, exhausted even from all that arguing with your parents.
“You alright Y/N??” Sarah nudged you slightly.
“Yeah, I’m tired. You know what I really need right now?” sighing, you sat up a bit.
“An orgasm?” Kiara joked, winking at you.
His blue eyes caught yours for a moment before you looked away. “Kinda, but I really need a joint.” You brought your two fingers up to your lips, smoking an invisible blunt.
“Lucky for you Y/N, I brought some~ its in the glovebox.” Kie wiggled her shoulders and responded in a singing tone. They all laughed and made jokes and continued their conversation, you couldn’t help but glance over at JJ once in a while. His arms were crossed and his hair swirled around. The open window shined sunlight straight onto his beautiful- no. You shook your head and shoo-ed the ‘bad’ thoughts out.
A long car ride of explicit thoughts later, you guys finally came to the camp site. It was in the middle of the woods with a clearing and an area with a bonfire, and only 2 other campsites in view, one was empty and the other had a singular tent. You all got out of the car, the boys unloaded the tent while the girls grabbed the bags and stuff out of the car.
“Bonfire tonight?” John B suggested and murmurs of agreement came about.
“I’m gonna set up the tents.” You decided to help and grabbed the tents out of the trunk.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” JJ taunted in an obnoxious baby voice. “Need some help from an actually capable being?” He followed you, bringing in another tent.
“Why do you take the time to bother me? Do you love me that bad?” He scoffed. “If I throw a stick would you leave-” before you could add a snarky noise to your sentence, he dropped whatever he was holding and pushed you. Not too hard as to not make you fall, but hard enough to piss you off. You dropped your shit and pushed him back.
“Dick!”
“Cunt-”
Insults were thrown back and forth and you both shoved each other, your hands occasionally throwing in petty smacks and hits at his chest and arms.
“Hey hey-!” The rest of the group ran over to you guys, pulling you apart and standing between you two.
“Are you guys fucking serious?” Pope threw his arms up. “We seriously couldn’t do one thing without you guys trying to kill each other?”
They all started scolding you as you glared over at him.
“If I have to be anywhere near him tonight I think I’ll actually leave.” You crossed your arms and turned your head away from him.
“Good! No one wants you here anyway-” Sarah and Kie verbally winced and told him to shut up while Pope and John B cringed. “Go back to your mansion on Figure 8 and cry about your great life to someone else.” JJ scoffed, a quiet kook escaping his lips. You seriously couldn’t believe him. He was going to use your status against you even after everything. Even after you cared them like they were your own. You thought they didn’t care about shit like that anymore.
You stormed on back to the Twinkie, opening the glove box and grabbing the pre-rolled joints Kiara brought. God bless her soul. Climbing into the back, you pulled out your lighter and lit it up. This was all you needed, a break away from everything. Away from JJ, from your parents, from everything else burning in this world.
Half an hour went by and the sun went down. None of the others bothered you as they figured you needed some time on your own. JJ was probably doing the same thing. You decided you would refuse to leave the van if JJ was there.
The door slid open, it was Sarah.
“Hey,” she whispered as she climbed in next to you.
“Hey. I’m sorry if I ruined anything or something I just-”
She cut you off. “No don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” She leaned against your shoulder.
“I guess. I just wish he liked me more. He doesn’t have to adore me I just want to be near him and not have him hate me.” You began ranting, not realizing you were rambling on and on. “Like I don’t think he understands how much I like him and it pisses me off because I hate him for hating me and I don’t know-”
“Wait pause. So you do like him-” Her face lit up as she gave you an ‘I told you so’ look.
“Wait what- no I didn’t mean it like that!”
“You like JJ!” You knew there was nothing you could do to stop her.
“Sarah hush-” You put your hand over her mouth, a feeble attempt to shut her up.
She pried your hand away. “I fucking knew it- WE fucking knew it. Now come on everyone else is waiting for you.” She nodded towards the window, where orange light lit up the sky and smoke trailed up. They started the bonfire and Kie was waiting for you, sipping on a beer.
You both walked towards the fire and you both sat on each side of Kie. She tossed you a can. “Look who showed up.” She grinned at you.
“Where’s Pope and John B?” You looked around, it was just the three of you.
They both looked at each other for a moment and hesitated. “Getting more wood for the fire..” Kiara shrugged. You didn’t think much of it while you three found yourselves in some other conversation about the best movie genres. So invested that you didn’t notice the boys come back, but not with firewood, with JJ. They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to have a fit.
They sat down across from you guys, the fire being a border. Sarah got up and moved closer to John B and you looked up.
“Hell no.” You stood up, tossing your can to the side.
“No no no please Y/N, JJ please. Can we please leave this to the side for one fucking night? Please?” Pope pleaded as the others agreed.
JJ scoffed, almost offended he has to put up with this. You sighed, sitting back down for the sake of your friends. John B tossed you another joint in attempt to calm you down, and it some what worked. You seemed to actually enjoy your night, besides the occasional glances you and JJ caught through the fire. His eyes seemed to pierced right through the fire, through you. As much as you want to deny it, as much as you fucking hate him, you wanted him so bad. Something about him just turns you on when his mouth is not always moving.
Every now and then JJ made some remarks towards you but you were too high to care.
Time flew while you guys talked about memories life and money, and soon it was way past midnight.
“I’m gonna pass out pretty soon sooo I’m hitting the tents.” Pope got up and Kie followed behind him, they both went into a tent.
“Me too, good night ladies and gentlemen.” John B saluted as he held Sarah’s hand they both giggled their way over to their tent. There was one tent left, one with yours and JJ’s name on it.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” JJ yelled out. “Yeah ok fuck you guys!”
“JJ please don’t give me shit right now I don’t have the strength-”
“I’m sleeping in The Twinkie.” He blatantly said as he scoffed and brushed past you, slightly bumping into you on purpose.
“Fine by me.” Muttering, you slugged over to the last tent.
Snuggling into a blanket, you laid your head down, hyperaware of every single noise around you.
The woods was never really your thing. The thought of getting mauled by a bear or attacked by some creep really did it to you. And when you heard branches breaking around you 30 minutes into your ‘sleep’, that was your last straw, you couldn’t sleep alone.
You shot up and went over to the others’ tents. “Guys please let me in I’m kind of scared.” No one answered. “You’re all assholes.” You whisper-yelled. Your only other choice was The Twinkie. Oh god.
You slowly slid the door open, praying JJ wasn’t awake.
“Fuck!” JJ yelled out. it was pitch black and you heard a gun cocking.
“Oh my fucking god JJ it’s me-! Did- did you seriously bring the gun?”
“You crazy bitch, are you trying to kill me???” You found JJ backed up against the other door with the gun in his hand. He turned on a little lantern and propped it up.
“I’m sorry! I got.. kinda scared and the others aren’t letting me in. I don’t have a choice you think I wanted to sleep here?”
He relaxed a bit putting the gun away. “Scared of what? There’s nothing even here, pussy.” He rolled his eyes. You shut the door of The Twinkie and leaned against the door opposite of him.
“I don’t know. Creeps JJ.” You scoffed, crossing your arms.
“Y/N I think the only creep here is you. Sneaking into tents and moving up on me like that.” You decided to ignore that comment. If you were going to make it through the night, you needed something to keep you off the edge. You could feel your high wearing off from that life threatening gun situation, so you decided to light another blunt up. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
“Don’t you think you’ve ruined my life enough?” you snapped back, taking a hit and blowing it out in the direction of him.
“Whatever, atleast share, greedy.” You passed it to him and he did the same.
There was a silence between you two. You couldn’t tell if it was awkward or comforting. You both shared glances and stares until you decided to break it. Your thoughts were killing you.
“You’re a dick I really hope you know that.” You blurted out. “I can’t stand you.”
“You love me and you know it. I think you’re just too embarrassed to admit it.
“Fuck you JJ.”
“In your dreams.”
“In my nightmares.”
Silence. You stared at him. Somehow you both were close, close enough you could feel his body heat. Did he always look at you like this? Did you never notice how his eyes lingered over your lips. He grabbed you and pulled you in. Before you could blink, you were pulled onto his lap his lips were against yours and you were sucked into this kiss. It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t meaningless either. There was definitely passion behind it, feeling. Hate or love it didn’t matter, you were in his hands right now, right this moment.
Spit pooled at the corner of your lip as his hands grabbed at anything they could. They started at the back of your head, grasping your hair and moved down to your waist. Part of you wanted to push yourself off of him, tell him no and yell at him for even thinking you wanted to do this, but you’d be lying if you said you’ve never wanted to fuck JJ Maybank.
Soft pants escaped your lips as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping and your throat. One of his hands gripped your hair while the other slid up your top, kneading and grabbing. His fingers messed with the hem of your bikini under, but then gave up. He pulled away.
“Take it off.” You nodded quickly pulling of your shirt to reveal the skimpy bikini top. He muttered a quick, ‘shit’. Your stomach fluttered as he kissed you again. He pulled on the strings of your top and pulled it off, throwing it somewhere to the side. His hands grabbed at your tits, squeezing and kneading. Your hands rested on his chest and you couldn’t help but move against him. You rocked your hips back and forth, yearning for some kind of friction.
You never thought you’d get here, dry humping JJ in the back of The Twinkie while the others slept.
You found your groove, rubbing in the perfect place that hit your clit just right.
“If you keep doing that ‘m just gonna cum in my pants.” he breathed out, speaking straight into your mouth.
“Good, wouldn’t that be embarrassing.” You chuckled a little, but JJ grabbed your hair and pulled your head back.
“Don’t fucking play games with me.” he almost growled. You were soaked. The way he spoke to you turned you on so bad.
“Touch me JJ please.” you begged, the humping not being enough. You wanted more, you wanted him to completely ruin you.
He laughed softly, seeing how vulnerable he’s made you. He somehow slid your shorts off, leaving you with your bikini bottoms. He moved his arm between you both, finding your clothed cunt. He pushed them to the side and ran his fingers through the folds.
He chuckled at how wet you already were.
“Stop-” you swatted at his chest, biting your lip. He teasingly avoided your clit, leaving you desperate and whining. Your hips rolled around, searching for his fingers as he moved them away. “Dick-” you cursed, frustrated.
“What was that? You wanted mine?” He teased you, your anger only building. But finally, he brought his finger to your clit, rubbing painfully slow circles. Whimpers fell from your mouth, whimpers that begged him to do more, touch you more, put something inside you. He understood the noised falling from your pretty lips as he stuck two fingers in you, earning a breathy gasp. JJ enjoyed watching your face as you scrunched your brows and the way your chest rose and fell, he took in all of you. He curled them slowly, pumping in and out as he picked up the pace. Moans and mewls filled the car and his fingers hit the spot, making you buck your hips slightly. He kept the pace, fingers pumping in you as he simultaneously rubbed figure 8′s into your clit with his thumb.
“Fuck, don’t stop!”
“Yeah?” He cockily coaxed you into your orgasm with a snide grin.
“JJ I’m gonna cum-” you moaned out, but quickly groaned as he pulled his fingers out.
He seemed to enjoy your despair, you almost started crying when he laughed at you for whimpering when he pulled his hands away.
“Don’t worry pretty girl,” He pulled you off of him and you hissed as your ass touched the cold floor of the van. His rough hands pulled down his shorts, his cock springing out. You licked your lips, positioning yourself back onto him. “ready?” You nodded quickly, sinking yourself down onto him. A loud sob fell from you lips and JJ put his hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle your sound. He slowly bobbed up and down on him, finding your groove. He met you halfway, jerking his hips into you as well. His cock hit the right spot, the spot. The sounds were sinful. Skin slapping against each other, wet squelches and explicit moans and curses filled The Twinkie as the windows fogged up. You kissed him, tongue slipping into his mouth as his hands grabbed back at your tits. He left purple marks all over your neck and chest, even some on your boobs.
He threw his head back, groaning at the feeling of you squeezing around his dick.
“Fuck I can’t-” he breathed, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. They bruised.
“Oh my fucking god..” you clutched his shoulders as he moved one hand down to find your clit again.
“Cum with me,” His hips began to stutter as his cock twitched inside you. His fingers rubbed at your bud faster and messier as you felt a wave crashing over your entire body. You kissed him while you could feel his warmth inside as he came too, still riding out your high with his finger.
“Fuck.” you panted, resting your head on his shoulder. “I thought you wanted to fucking kill me.”
“Maybe just fuck.” He laughed softly as you ran a hand through his hair, wiping away the sweat on his temple.
Somehow, you both ended up falling asleep naked and entangled within each other with a blanket covering the both of you. You were woken up to the sound of Kie yelling. “Holy fucking shit they slept together- Literally!”
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That's What Friends are For, Right?
Summary: Robin comes in at the wrong time... or right time as she would say.
TW: Self harm, use of the slur retard
It was a late night, a late night in Steve’s parentless house. This left Steve to his own devices, self-hate. He couldn’t go anywhere to his friends house, because they were either his children, his ex, or his best friend which he didn’t want to deal with when he felt like this. He knew Robin would worry too much, and be all over him.
As he stayed in the shower, he rethought his life. How his parents hated him, how he was a mistake and also frustration at himself in general. To be clear, his parents had told him for many years in a row after grade four in elementary school how he was a mistake, and a retard. He was only called the slur because of his reading skills, they were at grade 2, not grade 4. Steve remembered being broken at that moment, then being told he was a mistake broke him. That’s also when his parents started to ditch him even more for business trips, his mom going with just so she could watch her husband in case he cheated.
Once it happened more and more as he got older, going from one month to six to a year, he learnt to be independent and that he could have house parties, which he regretted now. It caused a lot of harm in his life, which caused his love life to be shit and his mental state turn upside down, pun intended.
That’s when Steve saw the razor. He looked at it, desperation in his eyes, then determination. His thoughts were winning as he looked at it, his breathing getting harder and harder, faster and faster. He hastily picked up the razor then, his thoughts speaking to him.
‘Your a retard’. One cut. ‘Why are you so dumb?’ Two cuts. ‘You we’re just a mistake anyway’. Three cuts. As the thoughts conquered his brain, he cut to each one of them. His left arm ended up with 10, his right with 5. He soon finished his shower, and got a first aid kit out when a knock ended up on his door. Cursing out loud, he haphazardly put on bandages and a long sleeve shirt before he went downstairs, dripping wet in his boxers, designed with pineapples over them and a plain grey long sleeved shirt.
What he didn’t expect was Robin at his doorway, looking down. “I had a nightmare and my parents are home and I don’t want to be there,” she said explaining herself immediately. Her parents were terrible with her, always forcing her to do things and forcing her to sleep in the dark, causing nightmares of Vecna cursing Nancy and killing her.
Steve nodded and smiled. “Mi casa es tu casa,” he said simply enough, as Robin stepped in, then looked at his attire. What he didn’t realise was that there was blood on his sweatshirt from the cuts bleeding through the bandages. Robin went to grab his sleeve instinctively as she closed the door. Steve flinched away, which caused Robin, to go toppling over her own feet, and accidentally pushed herself on a backed up Steve, which caused them both to topple. Robin landed on his arm however, causing Steve to yell out a loud, pained scream. Robin’s worry took visibility then as she grabbed his upper arm, dragging him to the bathroom he previously occupied.
“Explain? Because I don’t know how else I can help and I don’t want your wounds to get infected. If they do that can lead to sepsis, which can lead to organ failure which would cause an easy de-“ she rambled before Steve cut her off.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine, you can just go to your bedroom,” he said. Robin adamantly shook her head before she lifted up Steve sleeve’s and saw the messy bandaging.
It then hit her what happened. She froze then looked up at Steve, who’s eyes were filled with guilt, Robin could tell even if she couldn’t tell social cues. “Steve…” she said, gently. Hesitant to see his handiwork, she took off the bandage. What she saw broke her heart. Old scars ran down his upper arms, it seemed this was the first time he did his lower arm. Steve started to cry silently as he looked down, scared to show this side of him off. Robin started to clean the cuts as she put water on a tissue, seeing a few were still bleeding so she grabbed a towel. She put pressure on the bleeding ones. After a minute or 2 they stopped, and Robin soon got some anti-bacterial wipes, starting to clean them.
“Fuck, shit,” Steve cursed out, sobbing at this point as he closed his eyes. Robin looked at him as she was trying to be gentle but couldn’t when he was this sensitive. After what seemed like an hours silence, the girl silently asked,”Why did you do this?”
Steve didn’t know what to say before he muttered out,”my parents… and Eddie… I should’ve been there with them…” Steve said looking down as he cried. Robin kept cleaning gently as she took pity.
“Your parents are dicks, and Eddie’s death isn’t your fault. If anything he saved us time,” she said gently, soon grabbing bandages and bandages his arms up. Once she finished, she hugged him. The older boy hugged back as he was breaking down. They sat there for another 30 minutes before the man finally calmed down, mumbling out a small thank you. “It’s no problem, it’s the least I could do since you’ve helped me out a lot,” Robin said shrugging. “Nice boxers by the way, got me a pair?” Robin joked. Immediately, Steve laughed and rubbed his eyes as he looked up and was thinking.
“Why does everything happen in the bathroom?” he asked, causing both Steve and Robin to laugh, holding one another, their bond had grown stronger over this, Robin would come over more to help support Steve in a crisis.
#platonic stobin#Stobin#Stobin fanfiction#steve harringon#robin buckley#ratboy writes#ratboy writing
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