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sluttyhollow · 10 months

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Hobie x alt black reader (gn)

Canon divergent (let’s just act like universes are all on the same timeline and the spiders can time travel without consequence,) reader is Miles older cousin, hobie doesn’t exist on earth 1610, black reader with locs (can be read as faux locs or even braids/twist tho) colored hair (color not specified) and piercings (nose, smiley, bridge), reader works with kids (unspecified jobs), your writer is from USA and wrote British English the best they could without it sounding ridiculous 😭

smut warnings: dub-con for sex under the influence of weed, mutual maturation turned into sex, gender and anatomy neutral reader

This got a big out of hand I fear, enjoy

18+ No Minors

Summers spent in the streets of Brooklyn as kid were always fun. The nature of being in a big city, there was always something for you and your little cousin Miles to do. As you grew up, the summers became summers and winters spent in the city with them. Then it became attending college nearby, then grad school, and now freshly graduated with a new job, you were staying with your Uncle Jeff and Aunt Rio while Miles lived in the dorms for school. Still your favorite little cousin, and you basically being his older sibling, he was home every weekend so you two could hang out. Miles told you everything, including his not so part time job as the neighborhood vigilante. Much to your displeasure and through his consistent insistence that he was safe, even reassured you that there were OTHER spider people in case he needed them. Which didn’t really make you feel better considering they were probably also young teenagers, later confirmed when he introduced you too his “friend” Gwen (the two teens obvious infatuation with each other causing your eyebrows to raise into your hairline). But they both seemed well enough that your worries disappeared for the time being.

With both your aunt and uncle working overnight shifts now that miles was older, you typically spent most nights and weekends in the home alone or with Miles and Gwen. That being said it was Friday night and miles should’ve been here a few hours ago. At your thoughts, you heard a thump echo from the living room. Assuming miles had finally made his way home you got up from your bed to greet him. Mouth fixed to call his name out in greeting as you walked into the front room all the words got stuck in your throat. Three different versions of spider man stood in the living room of your house. The one you recognized to be miles stood slumped up against a tall spider man covered in spikes, patches and buttons, holding his midsection as another spider man, this one whom you assumed to be Gwen, fussed about a wound on Miles stomach that you were finally taking notice of.

“What the fuck!? Miles!!” Jumping down the rest of the stairs you approached the three spiders, taking care to help them lie him down on the coffee table, you really couldn’t explain blood stains on the couch tomorrow.

“What the fuck happened” the one spider you didn’t know spoke, British accent filling the space around you as he finally pulled off his mask “hit a bit of a snag on a mission, but they got a good hit on Peter Pan before Gwendy and I grabbed him and legged it” if your cousin wasn’t bleeding on the living room table you’d take more time to appreciate the beauty of the man in front of you. Silver piercings across his perfect dark skin, teeth perfectly aligned in his mouth and a healthy set of wicks atop his head. All of which matched his spider persona perfectly.

Drawing your attention back to miles you hummed out a reply before reaching up to snatch the black mask off miles face so you could glare at him properly. Turning your head to see the other young teen in the room had also removed her mask you spoke to her “Gwen, I’m going to take his suit off to look at his wounds” at the mention of clothing being removed she turned bright red, excusing herself to find towels and first aid supplies you kept for miles specifically. With the help of the other man you helped sit miles back up and pulled the zipper on his suit down and rolled it so it sat on his hips before laying him back down to examine the damage.

The wounds were superficial enough, with the exception of one big gash in the center of his stomach, nothing a few stitches wouldn’t fix. After assessing the damage you re aligned your glare at Miles, who was staring at the other spider to avoid your wrath.

“Miles” a short hmm and the quickest side eye glance were sent your way. pinching his side with a decent amount of force you started your speech on scolding the teen, well teens now that Gwen was back with the supplies, on how they can’t just show up battered and bruised without warning, and their lack of safety, how dangerous being spider man was and how you’d just pass away if anything happened to them. Somewhere in the middle of your ranting, and finishing sewing Miles up, you were just ranting to be ranting. Turning your ire on the only person in the room who had felt it

“AND WHO ARE YOU ANYWAYS, YOU JUST LET THE KIDS AROUND YOU GET HURT LIKE THIS” you we’re cute. Colored locs framing your face while the rest sat tied up top of your head, metal pierced through your nose, directly between the prettiest pair of brown eyes and one more that showed itself whenever you talked. Plus you were protective of the two teenagers, which was also cute. A smirk, and air of nonchalance sat across his features as you yelled at him. Folding your arms across your chest you waited for him to answer you.

“Names Hobie luv, and those two blokes ran off to another demension on their own without me, I saved their arses from dying” at that both of you turned to look pointedly at the two teens who BOTH were now ignoring the two adults in the room. Turning back around to finally look at the man in front of you, letting out a deep breath that you weren’t really sure when you took in, as your hands slid down your face.

“Sorry bout that” it was mumbled and forced but Hobie understood your frustration. he too cared for the teens, but their recklessness knew no bounds when they were revved up.

“Ehh you gave em a proper scolding, yeah, can’t take it too personally” he chuckled and you followed suit, plopping on the floor next to him and introducing yourself. The two of you sat watching the young teens in front of you talk on the couch, both awkwardly fumbling over there words, Miles state of half undress still causing Gwen to be a red faced mess.

“Guess I should get Gwendy back to where she belongs luv, maybe we’ll meet under better circumstances next time yeah” standing up to his full height, before stopping a long arm down to your level to pull you up. the smile playing at his lips signified next time would likely be sooner than you thought, not that you minded too much. Bottom lip grazing your top row of teeth before your tongue followed its path, you hid the smile you felt creeping on your face nodding your head in ascent to his statement.

Nodding one last time as he and Gwen stepped foot through the portal that had appeared within your living room. Watching the place it was for a few more seconds before turning to face Miles, who was wearing a shit eating grin.

“You feelin ma boy huh cuz” you couldn’t stand teenagers really. They talked too damn much… he wasn’t wrong but damn.

“Still ain’t got enough fizz to bag Gwen I see” the smile on his face dropping to be replaced by a mean mug “still doing that tired move my dad tried to teach ya, ain’t got no better game” where his smile fell, yours was steady rising.

“But yeah I might be feelin ya boy just a little bit” with that, you turned on your heels and headed back up the stairs. You threw a goodnight over your shoulder towards miles before closing the door.

Though you knew you’d see him again, what you didn’t expect was to unlock the front door exactly a week later to find him pounding across the couch while, wait a minute is that another teenager on the floor. You were collecting new spider teens like Pokémon. The sound of the door opening and bags hitting the floor caused everyone to pause to look at you.

“Yoooo cuz! You know Gwen, and I’m sure you remember Hob” you caught the look he sent you after that “and this is my friend Pav, he works with us too” the kid in question was in front of you, arms encasing you in a hug before you could register that he even moved. And he was back on the floor waving and smiling at you before you could wrap yours back around him to reciprocate the action. Flashing a full smile at the kid, you went to pick up the groceries but saw a pair of black boot stalking off with your bags being toted by a pair and spike cuffed hands. Following them up the body they were attached to before setting your eyes on the pretty face you met the other day. He winked at you before walking into the kitchen, leaving you to follow behind him with the last remaining bag.

“Nice fit” Simple enough, without his spider man suit under his clothes he still looked every bit of attractive. Black jeans, held low on his waist by a couple belts, tattered band tee and his signature battle vest. Random jewelry littered across his hands and neck to match the ones across his face. Continuing your trek into the kitchen you started placing the groceries in their respective locations. Hobie’s brain fried for a second, not understanding what you meant, until the differences in British versus US slang registered. You meant his outfit, though your lingering gaze let him know you’d probably agree with British meaning of the word too.

“You look proper s’well” brown eyes taking in the Demonia boots, black cargo joggers, and black baggy cropped T-shirt you had worn to the store. Jewelry adorned in similar places as his, the lack of extra color in your black outfit making them stand out even more. The word cute flittered through his head again. Just As it had the first time he saw you. Leaning back against the counter, crossing one heavy boot clad foot over the other, he folded his arms across his chest and watched as you began putting the groceries up.

While you weren’t necessarily a shy person, his intense stare fixated on you moving about paired with the lack of conversation had you feeling nervous. Pulling yourself up to full height, which was still shorter than his overly tall frame, you fixed him with a smirk before saying

“I know I’m fine sweetheart, how bout you put those long arms to use and put these up for me” a chuckle slipped through his lips before he pushed himself up, moving far more silent than his boots should’ve allowed him to as he approached you. Hunching his lanky body over yours to grab the items you were holding in your hands, he turned his mouth toward your ear before whispering

“How’s about ya let me take a photo then luv” warm breath fanning across the side of your face as he pulled away standing back to his full height to put the items in the place you had previously mentioned.

The push and pull and subtle flirtling, barely there touching turned into makeout sessions and heavy petting when the teenagers weren’t around. For months you both let this little game continue until it came to a head one night in hobies flat.

“I’m just saying that people benefit from these systems Hob, the kids I work with, these systems prevented them from dying, they still suck and they need to be eridicated and reformed but the people can’t govern themselves cooperatively, we keep proving that we can’t handle it, not yet”

“Do more harm then good innit?”

“Somebody has to be willing to change it then yeah?”

Staring at you, Hobie’s chest filled with desire and then some. You weren’t a punk, not like him at least. But hearing you talk, knowing that while you may not be willing to set the establishment ablaze, you were willing to be the one to rip it apart and start something new and he loved that about you.

The two of you were having a smoke session, you providing the weed cause apparently Earth 1610’s was better. Somewhere between your second and third pre-roll the tension in the air became charged and somewhere after the third began its rotation you and hobie were stripped down to your underwear, both of you too high to deal with the feeling of clothes on your bodies, or so you said. Once the third was done you both were beyond faded and the tension was palpable, hidden barely by the sound of his tv playing something until Hobies voice cut through sending jolts through your already on edge body.

“I wan you to do somethin for me luv” two pairs of low brown eyes meet, both filled with something too good to be spoken

“Yeah, what’s that” it was barely above a whisper, eyes still connected as his next words sent arousal through your body “wan you to touch yourself for me” pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nodding your head as you rolled your legs from under your body to sit with your legs spread. Reaching between them to start toying with yourself slowly. Putting on a show for him to enjoy, and by the looks of it, he was enjoying. Picking up your hands motions, throwing your head back just slightly so you could let a moan of his name slip through. Hobie was a calm man, patience came to him naturally, but you were breaking his resolve and quickly. He’d been palming himself through his underwear since you started but he needed to feel skin on skin. Lifting his hips up just enough to pull his underwear just beneath his balls. Wrapping his large hand around the base and giving himself a squeeze to try and ease the ache he was feeling, he readjusted his attention back on you and began slowly stroking the length of his shaft.

Your head had dropped back down allowing your lidded gaze to meet his for a moment before it dropped down to watch his movements. Perfect, he was so god damned perfect, another moan falling out of your mouth at his actions. The movements of your hand speeding up pushing you closer to falling over the edge before a hand wrapped around yours effectively halting your movements and causing your eyes, that you hadn’t realized had fallen closed, to pop back open and stare at Hobie’s smirking face. Deep breaths racking through your body as a whine slipped out with your fading attempt at an orgasm. Without any words Hobie grabbed your body, placing you in his lap. Legs hooked over his longer spread ones exposing you so he can finish what you started.

Longs arms wrapped around your body, hands reaching down to graze across you. Every simple movement of his feeling like ice on your hot body, everything was just a little extra sensitive. Hands dexterous from years of playing guitar, rough and strong from his years spent defending the world. Easily toying with you until he was using his other arm to keep you firmly placed in his lap. Writhing around to combat the pleasure he was filling you with, your peak creeping back up up the length of his spine and finally pushing its way out as he worked you through your previously denied orgasm.

“S’good for me” voice deep, close to your ear, lips leaving kisses across the expanse of your neck as you came back down. Hobie WAS patient but you made every semblance of patient fr leave his body. Made he want to consume every bit of you to make you a part of him. Give you everything he’s got and then make more to give you and that exactly what he was going to do. Rolling you over to lay flat on your back, his body caged you to the bed as he guided your ankles to rest atop his shoulders. Using your previous mess, he rubbed himself across you, smearing it around your hole to aid in his intrusion, a rather sturdy looking one at that. Dark pink tip rested atop a brown shaft, glistening with your cum around it. Sitting even prettier nestled against you. Holding your legs down, he slid himself in to the hilt in one motion, making you both cry out loud. Hobie WAS patient and calm but you have seemingly erased any semblance of that. The feeling of you around him reduced it further below zero. It was all rough strokes, wandering calloused hands, teeth and tongues gnashing in perfectly fulfilling kisses.

Nothing could’ve made this feel any better. Bodies sliding against each other in the best of ways until both of you worked yourselves over the edge. Warmth filling you from his release as he held himself there to come down. Unlatching your ankles from where they’d come to circle around his neck, he placed your legs back on his mattress before pulling himself out of you to watch how his release leaked from you, perfectly contrasting against the brown of your skin. Not bothering to clean either one of you up, he fixed you both to lay correctly in the bed pulling the sheet up to cover your bodies.

“May not be one for labels but if ya let anybody touch ya like that I might kill them luv” labels may not be bad, he thinks. In this instance at least but unnecessary none the less. Hobie could hop through dimensions, and has had partners in the multitude of places he’s managed to visit when it was convient and staying in those universes for longer than what was necessary never crossed his mind. His universe needed a spider man sure, but he could also simply travel back and forth too. He’s sure he’s not the only spider person on his universe either. The thoughts were spiraling through his mind, he could make this work, he would make this work somehow.

“Hmmm” your voice cut through bringing him back to reality. You’d wrapped yourself around his midsection, sleep filling the tone of your voice. “I think we’re on the same page then yeah?”

He could think about it later he supposes.

#atsv smut #x black reader #hobie brown x black reader #smut #long fic #other #shwrites #shwriteshobiebrown #hobie x black!reader

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

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The Rules of Engagement (4/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, general trauma.

a/n: unbeta’d. Yeah, I know - I can’t count. This is gonna be five chapters.

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

MASTERLIST

Murphy nearly bowls you over on his way down stairs, pulling up short when he sees you.

“Shit!”

You glance down at yourself. Your clothes are rumpled and covered in ash and bile. You don’t even want to know what your face looks like. There’s rubble in your hair.

Murphy is still staring open-mouthed.

“The pharmacy below my apartment got bombed,” you explain hollowly. “I’m fine, I just need a shower.”

“You look like you need a hospital,” Murphy counters, eyeballing you with something akin to worry. “Fucking Christ, Ears, if Javi -”

You snap your eyes up at the mention of Javi. “Have you heard anything?”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Steve Murphy cracks a grin at you. “On his way home now.” He looks as relieved as you feel. “We got him.”

You manage to smirk back. “Good.”

“Congratulations, by the way. This one’s on you as much as anybody.”

“Thanks.” You sag against the side rail, trying to be subtle about it. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, your legs are shaking, and you think it’s only a matter of time before you fall over.

Murphy notices, because he reaches for your shoulder to steady you. “I really think-”

“No.” You cut him off forcefully, glaring at him with all the energy you have left. “No, Steve. I’m tired, that’s all.”

He sighs. Narrows his eyes. Frowns. “You’re bleeding.”

What?

Murphy gesturers to your temple with a finger that you have to stop yourself from flinching away from. “You’re bleeding, Ears,” he repeats, as if he’s expending a great amount of patience by pointing it out to you.

You reach up, wincing as you notice for the first time that your head hurts. When you draw your fingers back, they are coated in blood.

Murphy moves closer to get a better look.

“It’s just a scratch, Murph,” you tell him wearily. As far as you can tell, that’s true. There’s no gaping hole or giant gash, just a stinging little cut right at your hairline. “You know how head wounds are.”

He’s still glaring suspiciously at you, and you let him, meeting his gaze in silent challenge.

Eventually he sighs. “Okay, your funeral, I guess. Gimme a minute.”

Before you can retort, he ducks back inside, leaving you standing awkwardly on the front step. The walls are thin - you can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. He’s back seconds later, key in one hand, a slip of paper in the other.

He hands you the paper first. “This is my pager number. Javi’ll be back soon, but I want you to contact me if anything crazy happens.” He motions to your head with his thumb.

“Okay,” you promise.

“And here’s this.” He presses the key into your hand.

You look up at him wide-eyed. “Murphy, you can’t just give me Peña’s key.”

“What, you think it would be any different if I stepped across the landing and did the honors for you? I’m already late.” He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. “Besides, he’d want you to have it.”

Somehow, you seriously doubt that.

Murphy fixes you with a stare. “Trust me.”

“Hardly,” you mutter, taking the key from his hand anyway. You hold it up for emphasis. “But you’re taking the fall for this one, alright?”

Murphy rolls his eyes. “I think I can live with that. Stay safe, Ears, and page me if you need anything.”

♠

You resist the urge to flop down on Javi’s sofa and sleep for a thousand years, instead making your way to the shower. Peeling away your dusty clothes feels so incredibly good. So does the hot water. You take your time, exploring the lingering aches and pains in your body as you scrub them with Javi’s little sliver of Irish Spring. Aside from a few bruises and that one little slice on your temple that won’t quit oozing, you’re not injured anywhere. You think you might be a little sore from being thrown backward tomorrow, and your lungs still feel funny and raw from having the air knocked from them, but otherwise, the bombing of your apartment is more inconvenient than anything.

You try very, very hard not to think about Emilio.

You step out of the shower only when the water runs tepid, the cold jarring you awake. Javi only has two towels, it seems - one left out to dry on the towel rack, the other crumpled in the corner with a pair of boxers. Nice. You opt for the one that’s on the rack, wiping yourself down then wrapping up your dripping hair.

There’s something deliciously deviant about sneaking naked through Javier Peña’s apartment when he’s not home. You shake away your guilt, trying hard not to be too weirded out or too turned on as you rifle through his dresser drawers. You’ve got to wear something.

Eventually, you come away with the green t-shirt and the only pair of sweats the man owns. You eye yourself in the mirror, considering. Javi’s clothes are ridiculous on you - you have to roll the sweats three times at the waist just to keep from tripping - but hell, at least you aren’t naked. Looks like that cut finally stopped bleeding, too.

Carefully, you pull your hair into a sloppy braid and gather your dirty clothes, doing a cursory sweep of the apartment to see if Javi has anything else that needs washing. Other than the little pile in the bathroom, you find a t-shirt and a pair of mis-matched socks in the corner by the nightstand. Not bad for a single guy living alone, you decide.

You make the trip downstairs to the communal laundry room quickly, noting the time on the kitchen clock when you return. You don’t feel like waiting beside the machine today. Flopping on the sofa has lost it’s appeal - you’re bone weary, but every time you close your eyes, you see fireballs and charred bodies.

Sleep is not on the agenda.

Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time. 9:42. You put the water on, then shuffle downstairs to switch the laundry to the dryer. 40 more minutes, and then you can get out of here.

And then what?

You examine your options and find that the list is short. You aren’t going to stay here any longer than necessary - you’ve intruded on Javi’s privacy enough. Your only friend in Colombia is Ana, and that’s off the table for obvious reasons. Murphy isn’t at home, and Connie had left for the States just weeks after you’d arrived. Back to work, then.

You decide that’s best anyway. Somebody fucking bombed your apartment. Well, the mark was probably Emilio’s drug store, but still. Bombings don’t happen in Bogotá - that’s a Medellín thing. Especially a civilian target.

The rush of anger that consumes you is staggering. Who did this, and why? Bombing a business is a very Pablo Escobar thing to do, but a small pharmacy? In Bogotá?

Ana and her father are good people. You know deep in your bones that they aren’t involved in the drug trade. You also have major doubts that this was an accident. So, what the fuck?

The injustice of it all makes you feel small and cold and helpless.

You’re missing something big.

Javi doesn’t have a television in his apartment. Even if you did have access the news, the information that you’re seeking is hardly going to be broadcast on live television, and certainly not so soon.

Work really is the best option, then. Between the bombing and Verdugo’s arrest, the sicarios must be on red alert. Maybe you can pick up on some chatter.

Besides, you probably need to let Stechner know about your situation as soon as possible.

You glance at the clock. 10:07.

Ugh. You rise up on your tiptoes, bouncing in frustration. Caffeine and adrenaline have made you jittery. There’s something really cringe-worthy, too, about being alone in Javi’s apartment without his knowledge, especially given the way things ended between you.

The memory chafes, and you shake your head hard enough that it throbs.

Goddamn this day.

A shrill beeping jerks you from your thoughts, and you barely manage to stifle a shriek. Your pager! You’d forgotten all about it. Your stomach swoops as you pick it up.

The number that flits across the screen belongs to Javi.

You take a breath. Weird. Aside from that one brief conversation yesterday, you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. It probably has something to do with Verdugo, you decide. Maybe he wants to inform you personally. That would be nice of him. After all, this was a pretty big arrest for you, too.

You locate the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number with trembling fingers. Damned coffee.

“Peña.” His voice is terse, clipped.

“Got your page,” you say warily. He sounds like he’s in a mood. “Is there -”

“Where are you?” he demands, cutting you off harshly.

You blink, startled. Forget ‘a mood,’ Javi sounds fucking livid. You’d assumed he’d be pretty relaxed, considering. “Umm, I’m actually at your place,” you speak slowly to hide the shakiness of your voice. Fuck, of all the times to get emotional. “Listen, my apartment was bombed. I just needed -”

You’re interrupted again by a sharp sigh. “Stay there,” Javi grinds out, and then there’s nothing but dial tone.

Slowly, you place the phone back in its cradle, processing the conversation.

What. The. Fuck.

Bits of plastic clatter to the floor as the pager smashes into the refrigerator - you’re hardly even aware of throwing it. You sink to the kitchen floor, cradling your head in your hands and doing your damnedest to just breathe.

It’s not fucking fair. He was the one who stormed out slamming doors. You haven’t pressed him, haven’t been a nuisance. Well, aside from basically breaking into his apartment and borrowing his shower.

But fucking hell, somebody - probably Pablo Escobar - just bombed your fucking apartment. You’re living in a foreign country and you don’t even speak the fucking language. There’s nowhere for you to go, and your clothes were a mess, and goddamn, you are just tired.

What were you supposed to do?

Footsteps thunder up the stairs. God, that was quick. You manage to leap to your feet just as the front door slams open with a bang.

Javi stops dead when he sees you, and your tirade dies in your throat.

“Hey.” It’s awkward, but it’s all you can manage.

He’s just staring at you, standing stalk still in the open doorway. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. His expression is tight, carefully closed off. One fist is clenched at his side, the other still gripping the doorknob.

“Murphy let me in,” you babble. You knew he was on his way, but still, his sudden appearance startled you. “My place, I mean, the drugstore -”

“I know.” He’s toneless, expressionless, frozen except for his eyes. They rove over your face and body, and you’re reminded suddenly of watching him read reports - quick, efficient, and exacting, like he’s taking in every detail in an instant.

Fuck. Heat rushes you as you remember that you’re still wearing his clothes. “Okay,” you breathe shakily, hardly aware of speaking aloud. This is getting weird, and you really don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with Javier Peña’s shit today.

Your laundry is probably dry anyway.

“Where are you going?” Javi demands, resting a hand on your shoulder as you attempt to push past him.

That does it. “To get the laundry!” you bite back, twisting away from his touch with a lot more drama than is really necessary. “My clothes are dry!”

He pulls away as if burned, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

You stand there like that for a long moment, just assessing each other. You’re glaring up at him warily, sizing him up, while he watches you with an expression that you don’t recognize.

“I’ll go,” he says softly. There’s something quiet, almost regretful in his tone, and it shatters your defenses. You bit your lip and nod shakily, and then he’s gone, descending down the stairs without another word.

Jesus.

You exhale another shaking breath - everything you do seems shaky, today - and pour another cup of coffee.

♠

You feel like you’ve got a little more control of yourself once you’re back in your own clothes. Javi is lighting a cigarette at the kitchen table when you exit the bathroom, a fresh butt still hot in the ashtray next to him.

“Rough night?” you ask, dropping his half-folded t-shirt and sweats onto the counter.

He huffs sarcastically.

You sigh. Your patience is wearing very, very thin, but you decide to try one more time, just for the hell of it. “Congratulations, by the way. Murphy told me about Verdugo.”

He blinks up at you, like you’ve pulled him from deep thought. “Yeah,” he says slowly, still staring at you with an intensity that’s starting to really freak you out. He pulls hard at the cigarette, and the moment breaks. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

You nod, suddenly tired.

He notices. “Ears?”

“I need to go back in,” you cut him off before he can ask whatever he was going to ask.

He frowns. “Didn’t you just leave this morning?”

Frazzled as you are, it doesn’t occur to you to ask how he knows that. “Yeah, Peña, I did,” you snap. “But then some fucker bombed my apartment, and I’ve got a nasty feeling that it has something to do with Pablo Escobar. I can’t go home, and I can’t get any sleep, so I might as well make myself useful and see if there’s anything worth listening to today.”

His gaze had drifted during your speech. He’s resting his jaw on his his palm, staring off into the middle distance.

Ugh.

“So, will you drive me, Peña, or am I calling a cab?”

“Sorry,” he says softly, breaking himself out of whatever stupor he’d been in. He stands and extends a hand like he might like to reach for you before deciding against it and grabbing his gun instead. “Of course I’ll drive you, if you feel like going in.” He catches your eye as he tucks the gun into his belt, serious now. “I really am sorry about your home, Ears.”

God. All Javier Peña has to do is throw you a tiny bone, and you fucking melt. The relief you feel is palpable. “Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a long second.

You hear him rustling around with keys. “Let’s go, then.”

♠

The car ride to headquarters is silent. Javi smokes three more cigarettes, tossing the butts out the open window before you even hit the parking lot, one after the other. You wonder what the fuck is going on with him.

He makes a point to let you out of the passenger side door, a little quirk that had been hit or miss before, depending on his mood. You walk together up the embassy steps, him hanging close to your shoulder but not quite touching you, and you wonder if this is his strange way of apologizing for the weirdness before.

You’re halfway to Stechner’s office when you realize that Javi is still following you. You arch a curious brow in his direction. He pointedly ignores it.

Okay, seriously. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question comes out a lot harsher than you intend, but hell, it’s been a terrible day.

He glances down at you, almost apologetic. “It can wait a minute.”

“Ears!”

Oh, fuck. Steve Murphy is running up the hallway, gaze zeroed in on you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just whirls on Javi. “Javi, what the fuck is she doing here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to keep from screaming. “I’m trying to go do my job, Murphy, if the fucking DEA will let me.” Thankfully, your voice comes out pretty level.

Javi’s looking at Murphy with a narrowed gaze, head cocked, hands on hips. “What do you mean, Murphy?” he asks in a low voice.

Murphy throws his hands up in consternation. “I mean she should be in bed, or at a fucking hospital. You should have seen her this morning, Javi. Looked like she’d come straight from a war zone!”

Javi whips around to stare wide-eyed at you. “Wait. You didn’t say…” All of the color is draining from his face. “You were there?”

Something about the breathlessness the words, like they’d been punched out of him, sends little shocks of electricity zinging across your skin. “I’m fine,” you manage. As protests go, it’s pretty weak.

“God, Ears, you’re still bleeding.” Goddamn Steve Murphy and his fucking preoccupation with your blood. “Now get out of here, please, before I call you an ambulance. Jesus.”

Javi’s face is a storm cloud of emotions as the pieces continue to click into place. “Ears,” he growls, more horrified than angry. He grips you carefully by the shoulders, looking you over again. This time, he brings his fingers gently to your temple. They come away bloody.

He sucks a sharp breath, glancing up at Murphy. “You’ll handle Verdugo?”

Murphy’s lips are pressed into a fine line. “Absolutely, Javi. Get her out of here.”

♠

He escorts you from the building with a hand pressed firmly against the small of your back. It would be sweet, if not for the blistering pace and the stony expression that’s frozen on his face. People take notice, leaping out of your way, craning their necks to watch as you storm by. By the time you reach the doors, your cheeks are flaming.

“Agent Peña!”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even noticed Martinez and his entourage milling around the entrance.

“Yeah?” Javi bites out.

Martinez raises a brow at the scene the two of you make - you, bleeding and shamefaced, Javi damned near parading you into the parking lot with all the subtly of a thunderclap.

God, there’s no way this ends well for either of you.

“Verdugo is in interrogation room three,” Martinzes says, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Javi doesn’t even slow. “Stick Murphy on it,” he snaps over his shoulder. “I’m busy.”

Nobody dares argue with him.

♠

Instead of getting into the car, Javi leans heavily against the door.

You pause, opening your mouth to question him, but he reaches for your jaw before you can speak, carefully tilting your face up into the sunlight.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is soft, but he’s looking at you in undisguised concern, eyes roving over you with an intensity that tempts you to drop your gaze.

You shiver. You can’t help it - you’re exhausted and emotional, and things with Javi have been so weird for so long, and now he’s staring at you, sharp and worried, running his thumbs across your scalp to gently assess for injuries.

No, you are not okay.

He notices the little tremor that darts through your body and rests one hand on your shoulder, leaning in to look you straight in the eye. “How far were you from the explosion?”

“Across the street,” you tell him, breathless for all of the wrong reasons. It’s only half-way true, you’d been crossing the street when the bomb had gone off, far closer to the blast zone than you’re leading him to believe. But he’s so close, cupping your cheeks in his hands, leaning forward to shield you from the traffic-side of the parking spot with his body as he continues to draw his fingers across your skin, gently assessing for more damage.

“It just knocked me off my feet,” you continue. Your throat is suddenly so dry. “Startled me, more than anything.”

Javi reaches with one finger to expose the wound on your temple. It’s still oozing.

“And this?” he asks, pinning you with another piercing stare.

You reach up, catching his hand as his fingers begin to drift down your cheek. He twitches reflexively. “Just a little scratch,” you promise him. “Falling glass, or shrapnel, I guess. Something grazed me. I never hit my head.”

This is not a lie. You never blacked out; you’re not hurt.

He blusters a sigh, scrubbing his face with his palm for a brief second. “I should really take you to the hospital.” His jaw tightens as he speaks.

“I just said I didn’t hit my head. I’m fine.” You indicate the wound on your temple. “This is nothing. You know how head wounds like to bleed.” You look up at him, projecting as much wide-eyed, awake, vibrant woman as you possibly can after walking away from a fucking bomb, and squeeze his hand in reassurance. “Please, Peña. I just want to go -”

Home, you almost say.

You stop yourself just in time. There is no home, not anymore. And you won’t make the mistake of referencing Peña’s place as anything other than ‘Peña’s place.’ That would be supremely stupid, given all of the recent drama.

“To bed,” you manage instead. “I’m just tired.”

And god, that is the truth.

If Javi notices your faux pax, he doesn’t mention it. He’s hardly taken his eyes off you. He’s near enough that you can feel the heat of his skin, one hand still twined in yours.

It’s all you can do to avoid resting your head on his chest.

“Okay,” he mutters begrudgingly, and then shakes his head like he hadn’t meant to agree. “I’ll take you home.”

You smile wanly at him. “Thanks.”

♠

author’s notes/confessions

I know you still have questions. I promise you, I will answer them.

Steve Murphy is a good bro.

Y’all hit me up if you want a little Javi one-shot after this next chapter. I wrote it for my own reference, but it might be a fun read, if you’re wondering what’s happening inside his head right now.

@tiffdawg, look what you made me do. ;)

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #javi x you #javi x reader #reader insert #angst #hurt/comfort #slowburn #friends to lovers #the rules of engagement #better love #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction

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heart-strong · 3 years

Text

An Ode To Science Beaker PJ’s- Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

gif credit to @0420-1102

Summary: gn!reader takes care of Spencer after coming home from being held captive by Tobias Hankel (season 2 episode 14 and 15). Reader and Spencer have been dating for two years.

A/N: YALL I think my fics are just going to be long because I love writing so much and I haven’t had writing inspiration in so long. Thank you for all the kind words about I Have a Fever, if you haven’t checked out my first Spencer/ Criminal Minds fic yet please do I’m so proud of it but heres this new one!

Also I mention this in my About me section but I’ll mention it here, I think Penelope and I are similar in that we call everyone “darling” just as a term of endearment, so penny calls reader darling that it.

This is also part one of a two-part set. I wanted to add a little more comfort but I loved the natural end to this without it. It is not written yet so I don’t know when it will be posted but I will link it here. when it is posted.

There is going to be smut in part two (An Ode to Golden Ratio PJs) and while there are still gender natural pronouns reader is going to have female anatomy. I’ve never written smut before and female anatomy is what I know from personal experience.

WC: 2.8k

TW: Regular cm stuff and topics covered in season 2 episode 14 and 15, (DID, dilaudid, self harm, abduction), talk and description of self harm but no relapse, any others let me know I’ll add it no question.

Again pt. 2 here

----

Spencer Reid and you had been dating since the two of you were set up on a sorta blind date by your mutual best friend Penelope Garcia. While you couldn’t possibly know everything that Spencer went through you had some idea from being Penny’s friend for years. Two years strong with Spencer and you felt like you were starting to know him better than his team.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and you were out with the team. The game was over and Spencer, Anderson, yourself, and a few other FBI agents you had just met that night were sharing a table. You are draped on Spencer’s shoulder watching him getting quizzed by Anderson when JJ walks by, she ruffles his hair and takes a phone call outside. You fix the curls out of Spencer’s eyes and kiss his cheek when he answers the question just in the nick of time.

And then there’s a case. The team was called to Georgia and everything was going well, or as well as a murder investigation can go when one night Spencer missed his usual phone call with you. He would check-in, at least a minute, letting you know he was okay. So you weren’t surprised when Penelope knocked on your door.

“Hi, darling. Um, I am going to go to Georgia and I wanted to tell you because, well because you and Spence. Somethings wrong. You may want to sit down.”

“What happened to him?” you motion Penelope into your apartment and to your couch.

“Well, uh, boy wonder and JJ were sent to a witness’s house to question him. But the witness well he was the unsub.”

“What?” you look at your best friend. You didn’t want to believe what you were thinking.

“Tobias Hankel, uh the uh unsub took Spencer. I am going because he is highly skilled with computers. I promise you, I will bring him back to you.”

“Okay, so what do we know? Do we know if he’s okay?”

“The team has a video feed on him. They can’t track him, so I’m going to go. That’s my specialty darling, I’ll get him back to you. The image we have of him is okay right now. He’s tied to a chair and clearly wounded but he is okay. The unsub has multiple personalities and one of his personalities is feeding him and giving him water.”

“Okay sounds good. You leaving now then?”

“Right now. I knew you needed to know before I left though. I love you darling stay strong for your boy wonder.” Penelope popped up off the couch as you rose and gave you a tight squeeze before floating out the door.

“Yeah okay. Love you too.” you followed and closed yourself out of the world.

It was another three days. Three days of not hearing from Spencer, but at least you knew why. He was being held captive. Three days of knowing your boyfriend was in pain and danger, a murderer holding him and streaming his whereabouts to his friends. No word from Spencer. No word from Penny. No word from no one.

Until you woke up to Derek Morgan calling you at 2:30 in the morning.

“Hello? Derek is everything okay?”

“(y/n),” it was Spencer. His voice was rough and scratchy and maybe a couple of octaves lower.

“Holy shit Spencer. You’re okay.”

“I’m safe. And I’m going to be with you as soon as possible baby. I just have to go to the hospital first.”

“Spencer Walter Reid come home to me as soon as humanly possible. I just need you.”

“We’re headed to the hospital now. It’s just bruising and a gash on my head.”

You heard the team behind him and just needed him. Safe in your arms, safe out of the field.

“Spence just come to my apartment when you get home and I can take care of you.” you hear Morgan wolf whistle from your words. “I’m glad he can make jokes right now, that helps me know you are fine.”

It was so early you tried to go back to sleep. But you couldn’t, finally getting out of your bed at five and making coffee. After trying to eat something you couldn’t stay still anymore you decided to do some chores. You were folding laundry and found a pajama set Spencer had left at your apartment, it was soft flannel and covered in little beakers. You noted the company on the tag and a hole in the knee showed how loved they were. You went to the store and got his favorite peppermint tea and snacks, making sure to make it feel somewhat homely for him, and finally returned home where you sat on your couch sewing up the knee waiting for him to come home to you.

It’s past 8 pm, you have the pajamas folded beside you and a movie playing on your tv when you hear movement on the other side of your door. The sound of a key and the doorknob moving pulls for your attention when Spencer walks into your apartment.

“Charming Boy, what are you doing?” you grab his bags since he was clearly in pain. “Where’s Derek?”

“He dropped me off?”

You immediately noticed that Spencer had downplayed his injuries. A black eye was forming on his sharp cheekbone and you looked to his hairline where there was medical tape assuming that was the gash he had mentioned on the phone and his wrists were red from the restraints Penelope mentioned. But he hadn’t let go of his side since he entered your apartment and it just elevated your terror when he yelped from you taking his bag. What in the world happened to him. “Spencer why didn’t you tell me?” you lowered the bags to the ground and took his free hand and cheek in your hand, trying to get him to look at you.

“I was taken and beaten up for days but I’m good. I’m with you.” he kissed you but it didn’t feel like the boy that left you a week ago.

You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him. His eyes were distant and avoided yours looking to his messenger bag on the floor. You kiss him on the nose and he plays along crinkling his nose but his eyes don’t move. He is still dazed and out of it when you pick up his bag and drag him to your room.

Spencer didn’t like therapy, after the L.D.S.K about a year ago you asked him if he wanted to talk to someone outside of the FBI. “ I know all the tricks, I can’t learn anything new from them.” and while you knew it was an unhealthy view you were not going to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Charming can you look at me?”

You had brought him to the side of the bed he would sleep on when he stayed the night and he was staring out the window with his messenger bag on his lap and was holding on to it like it was the only connection to the world. He looks up at you standing in front of him. But his gaze quickly moved to the window and moon and sky again. “I’ll be right back.”

You grab his pajama set from the couch, a couple of glasses of water and a first aid kit then return to him, he hadn’t moved. After setting the items on the bed and the water on your bedside table you sit by him. You brush away stray hairs off his forehead and place a kiss on his hair. He smells like chemicals and raw fish.

The Spencer scent of his shampoo and matching body wash that reminded you of Christmas and the spilled coffee lingering on his sweaters was overpowered. Gone. You could spend days wrapped up the cardigans he left behind but right now he was nowhere near that version, in a shirt that was clearly Derek’s as it fell off his collar bones.

“Hey Spence, do you want to take a shower?

“Do you want me to?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just, you’ve been held by an unsub for three days,”

“Two days, 13 hours.”

“Okay, so about three days. Charming wouldn’t it make you feel better?”

“I can if you want me to.”

The short answers made you very uncomfortable. The words and avoidance of a shower were very non- Spencer, you wanted his rambling back. You wanted the boy that left you a week ago, but he wasn’t coming back, so you just wanted him to feel a little bit better. Safe.

“Spencer, can you tell me where your head is at right now?”

“My head is in the chair I was strapped to for 61 hours.”

“Can I ask you to elaborate on that Spencer?” you didn’t want to push him but no one had told you what happened to him during those days and you wanted to know everything after he showed up worse for wear to you. “Did they touch the spots that are off-limits Spence?”

Spencer Reid was the most beautiful, handsome, and attractive person you had ever met. After the one time you hung out with the team, it was a no-brainer for Penelope that she needed to set the two of you up. And now years of knowing him and getting to know him differently than his team the two of you were comfortable together. And you quickly learned things before the team. You had planned to go with Spencer to see his mom when he was given vacation time, but you weren’t given time off; you left your retail job a month later to pursue your dreams. And like his mom before the Fisher King case, the team didn’t know about his ‘off-limits spots’ and this spaced-out man sitting before you. You knew they definitely didn’t know about his off-limits spots because you learned about them when you were making out one night and untucked his shirt. His ribs, his stomach, and wrist were the hardest for him when unsubs taunted him. The restraints, the groping, the beatings. They were also the places he put all his frustration out when his anxieties were out of control. But it had been two years.

“Spencer, did you hear me?”

“Um well he, Tobias took his belt around my arm, a make-shift tourniquet, and drugged me. He hit me in the head.” he gestured to his forehead. “And when they found me, the team, one of his personalities had a knife to my wrists.”

“Oh, Charming. Can I see?” he nods and you take his hand and unbutton the cuff of his sleeve, and there it is. A clear bandage was tight to the skin covering a dozen of cuts next to light scars from Spencer’s own hand. You couldn’t help but think two years down the drain even though the marks weren’t from Spencer, they sure looked like it. “Okay, bathroom Charming boy.”

The two of you walked to the bathroom and while Spencer sat on the closed toilet lid you ran the bath. Going back to your room you grabbed the first aid kit and his pajamas.

“Do you need anything, want anything to eat or drink?”

“Do you have peppermint tea?”

“I got some for your visit, I can make you some while you relax. Anything else?”

“My shampoo and conditioner are in my go-bag. Not that I don’t like the scent of your stuff I just want mine.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, honey. Okay let me get those for you and then I can take your bandage off and we can clean it up.”

As you walk back into the bedroom Spencer yells “Actually it is better to cover wounds to help them heal properly.”

“I know Charming but I want to clean it and switch it to a new bandage. Better padding you know you were in a hospital and a plane with that one. Whoa,” Spencer was in the tub already and you were shocked to see him naked. A big bruise was wrapping around his rib cage. You had never seen your boyfriend in less than a button-up with the top three or four buttons undone. “Sorry, um I’ll go make something to eat and boil water.” you go to close the door.

“(y/n), wait.” his eyes were finally starting to come back in focus, “ Weren’t you going to help with this,” he places his arm on the lip of the tub.

“Sweetie, you’re, you are,” you are trying to look at his face and not the wounds or his collar bones or his chest or his below the water.

“Oh,” and just like that, his eyes unfocused.

“No Charming, it’s just, we’ve never been shirtless in front of each other.” you go to sit by the tub on the floor of your bathroom, grabbing his hand still limp on the lip of the tub. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes, I’m okay, just can you not look at me like I’m different.” he looks at the arm and your hand holding it. “Just because my arm looks like this again.”

“Spencer, I didn’t look at you differently when you told me originally, I’m not going to look at you differently now. One sec,” you scoot on the tile and grab the first aid kit off the floor in the doorway where you dropped it. “Are you okay if I clean it and change the bandage?”

“Um, yeah, yeah you can, thank you.”

You grab his hand and put the kit in your lap. Grabbing an alcohol pad and running on the edge, and slowly but surely you get the bandage off his arm. You stand and get a washcloth off the shelf above the toilet and wet it with cool water.

By the time you finish bandaging his arm again the water Spencer was sitting in had gone cold and he is shivering.

“Can you make tea now and, um,” he looks down at his arm covered in new beige badges. Boring, but no one could see it anymore.

“Yes of course I can, um, I left a pair of pj’s on the bed you left them here.”

“Thank you.” he looked so small and scared in the tub.

You left thinking he was just bashful because he was in the tub and went and started a teapot. As you’re heating up a pot of water for mac and cheese you hear him padding into the kitchen.

“Do you feel a little better?”

“Definitely.” he sat at your kitchen table and you walked over to him. “Thank you for fixing my pajamas (y/n), I’m glad you had them. I thought I lost them, left them in a hotel on a case.”

“Yeah they were here, I can fix other clothes if you want.” you card your hands through his damp hair and twist his front fringe around your fingers.

“I would like that, thank you.” he closes his eyes as you comb through his hair and hold the back of his head. “Um, can we just have peanut butter and jelly, I just want to snuggle with you and I can’t wait for the water to boil.”

“That sounds perfect, do you still want tea?”

“Yes please.”

You kiss the top of his head, his hair finally smelling like Spencer. Your home. And as you let go you don’t feel that sinking feeling you usually do when walking away from Spencer. He joins you at the counter and pulls out two knives. You grab the bread slices and the two of you make sandwiches. When the kettle shouts you grab two cups and tea bags from the box and pour out water. Spencer grabs the plate with the sandwiches and follows you to your bedroom.

Once there you set the cups down and grab your phone and turn on some quiet music. When you turn around Spencer is already under the blankets and honest to god nibbling on his sandwich. You go to your closet to get your own pajama set, granted not as cute as your boyfriends, and join him.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asks.

“I am so happy that you are here. Can I kiss your silly face?”

“Please do.”

You launch at him. Your flannel-clad legs wrap around Spencer’s hips. His hands go to your hair as his tongue starts to brush your lower lip and you open your mouth to accept his tongue. Pulling away from his mouth, his beautiful, talented, and oh so addictive mouth, you look to him as long lashes flutter open his big brown eyes you’re hit by a train.

“Move in with me?”

———

Update (May 2, 2021)

Part two here it is nsfw

#criminal minds #ssa derek morgan #ssa emily prentiss #ssa hotchner #ssa jennifer jareau #ssa rossi #ssa dr spencer reid #mental health #spencer reid fic #gn!reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #spencer fanfic #my work

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fumiko-matsubara · 3 years

Text

November 2014 ー 07:34

Ryuunosuke woke up with a grunt when he felt something, or rather someone, shaking him fairly strongly for the past few seconds.

He then shielded his eyes with his right arm when lights suddenly flashed before him. Whoever woke him up probably opened the curtain too. Ugh.

"Nii-chan, everyone already had breakfast," he barely heard one of his sisters telling him. Based on how he was addressed, it was likely Kohaku. "And you woke up very late."

"!"

With that last remark, Ryuunosuke quickly sat up and bent down, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands in an attempt to wake himself up even more. He brushed his hair away from his face and then looked ahead, only to meet Kohaku's brown eyes staring down at him, clearly waiting for him.

After some blinking and a final squint, Ryuunosuke soon noticed his younger sister's hair being loose, very unlike how she usually wears it. "You want me to do your hair?" He gently asked.

Kohaku raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not expecting that to be the first thing he would say. "Get dressed up first, nii-chan. You're gonna be late," she sighed before walking towards his door.

It was after Kohaku closed the door shut that Ryuunosuke belatedly realized that it was a school day today. So he went to reach out for his phone that was on the shelf above his bed, which had been awfully silent throughout his whole slumber.

And felt like slapping himself when he found out it was because he forgot to unmute his phone last night, again.

At this point, he really should just stop muting his phone altogether.

Ryuunosuke's eyes widened when he finally looked at the time. He quickly went towards his desk, plugged the charger in his phone, and then hurried towards the bathroom to get ready.

Less than 30 minutes later when Ryuunosuke arrived at the kitchen, only Kohaku was present at the dining table. He heard the running water after, assuming that it was their mom washing the dishes.

"Papa had to leave early for work and nee-chan and Yuko-chan already left for school. Mama only has to work this afternoon and our class' first period is cancelled today," Kohaku briefly explained to him when he sat down in front of her. She was half-way done with her meal and considering it had been over 30 minutes since she went down the stairs, Ryuunosuke assumed that she slowed down her eating to wait for him.

The thought made him a little happy if he had to be honest.

"That's good to hear," he replied softly, taking in the meal before him. Their mom knew him too well that she had just prepared him a light breakfast today as he had barely have enough time to eat. When he picked up the chopsticks, Ryuunosuke glanced at his sister once more with a small smirk. "You seemed to be waiting for me huh, Kohaku?"

Kohaku shrugged in response, matching his grin almost uncannily. "You know the drill, nii-chan."

"Of course, of course," and with that, they both proceeded to eat their breakfast or in Kohaku's case, finish hers.

After a few minutes of silence between them as they ate, Kohaku decided to speak up again.

"Kinda weird seeing you in your uniform with your hair like that, nii-chan," she casually pointed out. "Are you planning to fix it later or..?"

Ryuunosuke chewed his food in silence, contemplating her question. His hair was still lightly damped from the quick shower he had earlier, but unlike the usual fashion where he flattens down his fringes over his eyes, today he was currently wearing it loose and even had it slightly parted in the middle.

"Takes too much time," he firstly answered after a swallow then quickly drank from his glass of water. "I think I'm just gonna keep it like this."

Kohaku's eyes widened in surprise, clearly wasn't expecting his answer. "That's... new," she commented.

Ryuunosuke shrugged in response, picking up a slice of scrambled egg. "I just thought that I should start... getting used to wearing it like this," he paused midway from eating just to add that. "Well, outside..."

Kohaku hummed at his words, her eyes not leaving him since his first answer. There was only one bite left in her meal anyways, so she can waste some few minutes. "I think that's a great idea, nii-chan," she suddenly grinned cheekily. "I can finally brag to my friends that I have a handsome brother with proof~"

Ryuunosuke nearly choked in laughter at the remark, hurriedly saving himself by drinking water. "Hey now..."

Kohaku's grin widened even more.

Ryuunosuke was occupied with tightly braiding Kohaku's hair into twin dutch braids when his mom approached them, seemingly done with washing the dishes.

"Ohh that looks very clean," he heard her praise which brought a small smile to his face. Although his eyes are fixated towards his work before him, Ryuunosuke felt their mom sitting on the couch next to him.

Feeling that their mom will just quietly watch until he's done, Ryuunosuke proceeded to diligently work on the second, lightly combing out the knotted strands with his fingers and carefully making the twists. Braiding Kohaku's hair into tight dutch braids had always been a daily routine for Ryuunosuke, as his sister usually requests for them, that doing so became such a light work that it only took him around two minutes to finish a neat dutch braid.

Another two minutes it is then.

Ryuunosuke was already half way through the braid when he felt his mom shift in her seat. If she was trying to find the moment to talk to him, he felt that he knew what it was about.

"You woke up late today," she started, more of a statement rather than a question. "That's rare."

Ryuunosuke bit down the urge to nervously laugh in response and just hummed lowly. "I forgot to unmute my phone."

As his eyes were still on the braid he's working on, Ryuunosuke couldn't see his mother's expression but since she hasn't given any signs of response yet, he suddenly felt the pressure to explain himself further. "Our class' group chat was really active last night and I couldn't focus on doing my homework... so I muted my phone."

"I think you should stop doing that," Ryuunosuke bit down another nervous laugh when his mom told him that so straightforwardly. "I mean, it's good that you wanted to focus on your studies and such. But it's concerning to have Miki-chan dial our house number plenty of times only because she couldn't reach your phone," she added, followed by a mildly tired sigh. "And every call makes me nervous because I thought it would be from your or your sisters' schools."

"Ahh I'm sorry about that..."

"Don't be," his mom reassured softly, watching him finish braiding the rest of Kohaku's hair with ease. "I'm driving Kohaku to her school, by the way. So you don't have to walk with her."

Ryuunosuke nodded in response, proceeding to carefully tie the remaining braid. "Your classes start at 10 today, Kohaku?"

"More like 10:30," his sister replied, standing when he finally gave the signal that he was done. Kohaku then ran her palms on her head to feel the tight braid and smiled in satisfaction, already happy with the result despite not actually seeing it yet. "Feels nice."

"Really?" Ryuunosuke stood up from the couch, lightly patting away the slight wrinkles on his blazer. "Not too tight?"

Kohaku carefully pressed some of her fingers onto her hairline to check, then shook her head. "Nope, not at all. Doesn't even hurt a bit, thanks nii-chan."

"Good," Ryuunosuke softly returned the smile before walking towards the end of the couch to fetch his school bag. He then went to the kitchen to fetch his lunch, which was already nicely packed by his mom.

After carefully stashing it inside his bag, Ryuunosuke then proceeded towards the shoe rack near the doorway, where his school loafers are. He barely had less than an hour left, so he better start hurrying up if he doesn't want to be late. Especially since his house is fairly a distance away from school.

"You're going to school with your hair like that, Ryuunosuke?"

He turned back to the living room to see his mother curiously looking at him with her fairly sharp russet eyes wide in surprise.

"My hair..?" Ryuunosuke quirked an eyebrow before turning to the framed picture by the wall next to him, trying to get a proper view of his own reflection through the glass. "Oh." He saw how the slight parting was a little messy and so combed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

Satisfied, he then went to pick up his loafers from the show rack and quickly wore them. He then saw his mom slowly walking towards him. "So you're really going to wear it like that today?"

Ryuunosuke nodded in response, giving her a soft and reassuring smile. "I can comfortably run to the station like this then, especially since most of my schoolmates should be in school by now, so I wouldn't be seen anyways."

"But what about your classmates?"

Ryuunosuke then shifted his weight onto his other leg, scratching the back of his head rather awkwardly as sharp maroon eyes darted away from the ones before him. "They know, actually..." He confessed.

Fairly sharp russet eyes widened in surprise once more at the revelation. "Since when?"

"Since summer, at the same time they also found out about the band," He truthfully answered, although he still couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with his mother. "And I forgot to tell you about it... I'm sorry."

His mother just let out a mildly tired sigh in response. "I shouldn't be surprised considering you once randomly told me one day that you actually had a girlfriend..."

Ryuunosuke let out a sheepish laugh at that, feeling his cheek heat up in embarrassment at the blatant call out.

"Speaking of, tell her I said hi when you see her at school, okay?" Ryuunosuke then felt the sudden urge to roll his eyes at the cheeky smile that was gracing his mother's face as she said that. "Well, I can't keep you here for too long. Just take care."

Ryuunosuke gave her a final nod before walking outside through the entrance door.

"I'm off."

It was difficult.

In the end, Ryuunosuke wasn't able to bring himself to tell his mother what he opened up to Kohaku.

Which really left him on a more bitter note as this was something that his mother was affected by the most after himself.

Ryuunosuke sighed once again as he walked away from the station. It's not like his mother would be mad or anything if he had told her the truth. In fact, it would actually be the opposite. She would actually be delighted and relieved at knowing about the mild changes Ryuunosuke had slowly but surely been making over the months.

But there was an improvement, right? He did manage to finally tell her that he had shown his face to his classmates... even if it did take him nearly 4 months to do so.

All he really needed to do was to tell her that he wanted to do this, that it was purely his own choice. Even if he still had yet to get used to it. He just had to stop beating around the bush and only telling half-truths whenever he tried to be honest with her.

Because the last thing he'd want to happen was to take him until he's in high school before he could finally spill.

Ryuunosuke slowed down his steps when he was nearing the waiting bus across the street.

Well, that's just one problem he had yet to overcome. Another one was something he still had yet to find a way out of, as irritating as that actually sounded to him.

He took a peek inside the vehicle and sighed in relief when he didn't see a single Kunugigaoka student present.

It's either during the school festival or after their final exams that he could make his decision for that other problem he's having.

He entered the nearly deserted bus and took a seat at the very back by one of the windows. He then took his earbuds out from his pocket, thinking that it would take a bit before the bus started moving so he might as well listen to some music as he waited. Feeling a little less exposed now with just the very few people inside the vehicle, Ryuunosuke felt comfortable enough to completely brush his hair away from his face.

He had to be honest, with the way he had been wearing his hair up more often these days than he used to, his bangs are starting to annoy him at this point.

Shouldn't it be a good thing then? Well, partially it is very much a good thing. A great thing even, actually. Ryuunosuke himself is happy at the fact that he was hardly scared to show himself anymore after being countlessly reassured that there wouldn't be a repeat of what happened to him when he was seven.

He was actually happy at the fact that he can finally ditch this hairstyle whenever he's ready... especially since one of his classmates gave him such a mortifying codename from it.

Oh god he fucking hated that codename.

Whoever wrote that chosen suggestion better brace themselves the moment he finds out who they are.

Anyways, as much as Ryuunosuke could have wanted to permanently change his hairstyle much earlier... he couldn't really.

Especially since he does use his bangs as a makeshift crosshair when aiming to shoot accurately when not using a scope. And with the little time they have left before March, he couldn't just get rid of his bangs anytime soon and waste time relearning to aim and match his admittedly current high level of skill.

So he just had to suck it up until the next 4 months.

Feeling a glare breaking out, which he rather not show because he doesn't want to accidentally scare anyone first thing in the morning, Ryuunosuke closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

High school debut it is then, huh.

All of a sudden, Ryuunosuke felt someone taking the seat next to him and tensed. Last time he had his eyes opened, which was just a few seconds ago, there were hardly any people inside the bus.

So who in the world would willingly sit next to him-?

Ryuunosuke cracked an eye open to peek at the person next to him and found himself about to smile at the sight of familiar voluminous black hair.

His smile widened even more when he noticed a familiar dainty hand slowly hovering over his opened palm placed on his lap.

Letting out a chuckle, Ryuunosuke decided to reach the hovered hand and locked fingers with them. He then leaned his head onto their shoulders and mildly nuzzled into them. "Good morning~" He greeted softly.

"Good morning Ryuu," Kaho greeted back as she tried to relax at his touch.

Ryuunosuke then pulled away, not wanting to be excessive with the public display of affection, although he still had his fingers locked with hers. "Also woke up late today?"

"Yeah... My phone ran out of battery overnight," as she said that, Ryuunosuke took notice of the portable charger on her lap that was connected to her phone with a cord.

So that explains why she hasn't once replied to him when he messaged her earlier his morning.

"You're probably tired from the train ride," he said, relaxing onto his seat once more. "I don't think the bus will move anytime soon, so might as well take a short nap then..."

"You too," Kaho giggled softly. "I saw you running through the station earlier and nearly ran onto one of the pillars."

"No you didn't," Ryuunosuke immediately denied, his face slowly heating up.

Kaho leaned onto his shoulder with a teasing smirk. "Sure I didn't..."

"Just go to sleep."

#did I just write all this based from the meta I wrote about him few days ago?#yes i did #i really need to start getting comfortable with writing again gosh #so this is gonna be a bit rougher than what I used to write 😭#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #chiba ryuunosuke #ryuunosuke chiba #target on #target on moments #my writing

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Needs

Summary- Ransom x You. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, and Ransom sets you straight. Warnings- Dominance, degradation. NSFW

Word Count-2.7 k

Most days your fine, normal, able to laugh, smile, tease your boyfriend, put up with his attitude and general snarkiness in strides. It all worked, you were happy and in love with the bastard.

But once in a while, you would slip into a place hard to describe. It would start with a moment of distance. Ransom would be venting about something, usually his family. They were the primary source of his frustration although he leaned heavily on Harlans financial support. Then he would pause, his eyes snapping over you as you seemed not there. “Whats wrong with you?” a bit of snark lacing his voice, and you would just smile a bit and come back to focus on him. “Nothing, Im fine. So Walt really said that?”

He would look doubtful, but wouldnt comment anymore on your strange behavior for the time being.

And that would be the start of your despair. It would start to consume you till it traveled into your chest, aching, heavy. Your body to would start to loose interest in touches and affection, pulling away when he would reach for you during the night. It was nothing Ransom done, and he would ask you once more “Whats wrong Y/N?” Leaning over you in the dark, but you had no real answer. You could feel him withdraw, leaning to sit up against the headboard, the tension brewing.

Then the day came you couldnt handle it anymore. Your skin was crawling, and no amount of distractions would help. Your mind buzzed incessantly with nothingness and everything. You needed it to shut the fuck up. When you heard Ransom coming up the steps and the door click, you fell to your knees with a bowed head, waiting for him to enter. Once he did, you head his audible sharp intake of breath. Please fix me, I need you. Silently you plead while not moving an inch.

Ransom admired you, he knew this was coming. Recognizing that dark little demon that had made its home in you for a lifetime, it matched well with his own. He approached you, his hand gentle at first along your jaw, his thumb brushing over the softness of your cheeks, this little soft hairs near your hairline, going to cling at his hand. But softness is to much, not want you need, and hes well aware.

The touch swiftly changed, going from caring to bruising as he grabbed your chin, fingers digging right into the fleshy part of your cheeks and tipping your head up so he could study you, and when your eyes met his, he snarled out “Did I tell the whore she could look at me?” Immediately your gaze dropped, his hand went to his pants, snapping open the button and unzipping the fly. Taking himself out, a few pumps around his erection made him stiff. Fingers digging in enough to pop your jaw to open. “Dont you dare loose a single drop slut.” He continued harshly, and you nodded, your words slurred from the grip he still had on you. “May I use my hands Sir?”

“Hands behind your back, your taking all of it” Ransom let go and fisted his hands in your hair, to hold you in place, the head of his cock slipping around your mouth and the tip of your tongue slides out to trace the head, flicking over his sit to and then he dominated your mouth, choking around him. “See, I knew you didnt need to use your hands, such a good little whore.” You do your best, your hands folding behind you, fingers locking together to keep from pressing them against his thighs to slow his thrusts down. Finally you match his thrusts, your tongue sloppily curling around his length, your cheeks hollowing as you suck on him. Heavy as he slams into the back of your throat, over you his grunts make you squirm, trying your best not to look up to see his expression.

Soon your gagging, messy between drool and tears brimming from your eyes when he looks down at you, drenching his cock and balls sloppinly when he pulls you closer, the spiral of heat snapping his gut as his cum shot the back of your throat, your eyes rolling up finally as you whimpered, doing your best to take it as he had told you to, brimming on the edge of your lips when he finally pulled from you and tucked himself back away. The tip of your tongue traces your lips to clean up quickly, slouching slightly even though his hand still is twisted roughly in your hair, it stings with a hiss as he jerks you enough to lift you to your feet.

“Dont forget, I own you little slut. Now get undressed and on the bed now. Do you understand me?” His head tilted as he stared you down, loosening his hold when you again dropped your gaze, Ransom dared you to defy him, but you knew better. “Yes Sir…”

“Go” he wrenched his hand away, and you were quick to escape to the bedroom while he went off to the kitchen. Tugging away your clothes and putting them into a pile, you folded them carefully and set them on the floor, on your side of the bed and crawled into the center, again taking a similar kneeling pose as before. When Ransom came back into the room, a tumbler of whisky in hand. Seeing you so patient, he was quick to finish it off, setting the tumbler aside on the nightstand “My little whore, so patiently waiting for me after being so good earlier. Its not going to save you though.” He promised as he placed a kiss on your lips, drawing out your tongue and slipping over your teeth, dragging your lips into a bite.

“Face down in those pillows, ass up high. Spread those thighs till I can see your pussy.”

You were quick to oblige, hearing him behind you rummaging through his chest drawers. You knew your ass was about to burn, but from what? You didnt have to wait to long when you felt the dip of the bed behind you, a glance over your shoulder showed that he had undressed as well. A sharp sting of his hand against your ass was issued when you looked back, growling out. “I said face down in the pillows.” You should have known better. His fingers traced the red handprint he left, admiring the way your back curved down, and you displayed yourself just for him, his fingers slipping between slickened folds.” Did eating my cock make you this wet, or have you been a needy little slut well before I came home?” spreading your slickness over your folds, around your clit. A slight pinch to your nerves made you yelp into the pillow “Answer me, I know you havent forgotten how to talk”

“From sucking you off Sir.” You imagined the satisfied smirk behind you playing across his face. Thats when you heard the whir of a vibrator, and he ran it along the back of your thighs, slipping to the inside of them. Ransom was always adding new toys to your collection, but he knew this happened to be a favorite of yours, making you come undone at the seams, but it was a two edged sword. He would bring it so close, making you bite your lip at the anticipation. A frustrated groan would fall from you, and his sharp laughter would come from behind you. “What, little slut cant wait to get what she wants?”

You knew better then to answer him, he was waiting for it though, letting the vibrator hover close to your aching pussy, but not giving it to you. Your ass sways, and that gets a sharp broad slap of a paddle, pushing you forward into the pillows. Right after that, Ransom slid the vibrator against your core, making the sting burn in all the best ways. The warmth of it traveled up your spine, and you arched further, crushing your chest into the mattress, and your back bending in a sharp curve. The vibes from the toy left you squirming slightly now, dripping mess. Ransoms hand replaced the paddle, digging his fingers into your ass cheek, pushing it up and jerking your hips back against him as you tried to pull away from the overload of sensations the vibrator rattling your core. “Oh no my little Slut, theres no getting away from it.” He leaned over and gave a sharp bite to your cheek.

You start whining into the pillows, fisting your hands into your designer sheets he insisted on having, panting as he upped the speed of the vibrator, your toes locking and legs half lifting off the bed. “Ransom, oh fuck.” Your pushing yourself back against the vibrator to dig into your pussy, harder, your eyes are rolling back in your head and taunt like your about to snap. The tension is hurting your muscles that cant loosen, they are about to break, and he pushed that vibrator up another speed, causing you to crash without permission. Your scream still sharp in the pillows and you try to drag any kind of air into your lungs, but the pillows are suffocating. Ransom turns off the vibrator and tosses it away.

Leaning over you as your still struggling to lift your head in these seconds, his frame leans over you and he fists his hand back in your hair, lifting your head to hear you drag in a gasp of air finally. “Fuck little whore, you came without permission.” He hissed against your neck, biting at your cheek, and down onto your neck, ripping his hand away for you to drop into the pillows. His hands curved around your hips and jerked them into where he wanted you. You shift to your elbows, or attempt to, but his hand wraps on the back of your neck, shoving you back into the pillows, twisting your head enough so you werent smothered. The thick head of his cock pushed against your entrance.

it was a hard snap, his thick cock felt like it was splitting you open, and there was no moment to adjust. Quick snaps of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs and ass, the tight hold of his hold on the back of your neck keeping you in place, but jerking you into the mattress beneath you. His feet locked behind your ankles to keep you legs spread and in place. There was no escaping him, driving himself deeper into you, was there anyplace he wasnt? It was as if he was rearranging your insides.

“Fuck Y/N” the first time since you two started he used your name, his slaps behind you bruising. He released his hold to slid under your chin, snapping your head up, and his fingers filled your mouth, unable to muffle the whines and cries now, his chest burned against your back, his teeth and mouth laying claim to your neck and shoulder, it wasnt kisses, it was inhalation of skin. firm sharp bites digging in, pulling sucking remarks of how good a fuck you were pressed into your ear as he bit your lobe, and all you could do was hold on best you could, your hands ripping into the sheets. Your channel clenching around his cock, but that didnt slow him any, and he ripped another screaming orgasm from you.

Shaking uncontrolled, you are sure hes ready to end you. But he pulls out and with a grasp to your hips, he whips you onto your back and jerks you down the bed till your perfectly flat. “No Ransom Im done” You claim, and he wraps your legs around your hips, catching the first glimpse you have had of him, his hair is disheveled in a flop over his eyes, and the tops of his cheeks are flushed red, his chest heaving slightly in exertion. He pops his hand against your breast, pulling the nipple with a sharpness that has you arching from it with a cry. “You dont look done to me, your not dripping my cum from that sweet little hole of yours. Were done when I say were done Slut.”

He was right, you reach to touch him, but his hand catches your wrists and slams them down above your head as he fills you again. “And your sweet pussy is just taking me so well. Going to leave you full of my cum. Cant let you forget who owns you.” Ransom grasped your breast, pulling and twisting till you were arching for more, or to try to break his hold, your not sure. It was a border line or pleasure and pain. He replaced it with his mouth, hot tongue and sharp bites holting you from his mouth with his hard thrusts, your hips rolling to meet him. Your fingers twisted in his hold, and head falling back as all of it, the sensations were becoming an overwhelming mess , and you snapped, coming again, your orgasm ripping you apart at the seams. Screaming his name and he lifted his head from where he was biting and kissing your breasts. Your tears streaming down your face, and there it was, finally.

Ransom had gotten you were you needed to be, that hard dominating look softened and shifted enough to cup the back of your head, and kissed you deeply, grunting against your lips as he chased his own orgasm, his hips rutting out of sync now and burying himself as he filled you, just as he promised he would. A few unsteady rolls of his hips spread his cum through you, and you just cried at all of it, his arms wrapping around you and rolling enough so that you laid against his chest, rubbing your back deeply and speaking softly as you cried against his neck. “Now thats my good girl, I got you its okay. So good to me, I love how well you took all that.” His hands would brush through your hair and everywhere was gentle touches, caresses bringing you back to him.

Soft kisses rove over the bite marks he had left of your neck and shoulder. You ache, you can feel how hes still buried in you, but soft now. Everything is about bringing you back down. Finally you lift your face and look up at him. “Can I have a bath?”

“Of course, let me just go set it up.” He moved you to curl up next to him and he slid from the bed, and into the bathroom. Ransom was alot of things, but these moments, you wouldnt know that he could be a spoiled trust fund brat. Everything was about taking care of you. All the way from drawing a bath, to easing you into the tub, he sat behind you and did things such as wash your back and took his time with your hair, sure to use your favorite washes. He even toweled dried you and brought you back to bed. “Hows take out sound tonight?”

“Yea that sounds really good” You started to perk up as you sat at the headboard of the bed, and he winked pulling out his phone. He knew your order, and he left the room to make the call. You wait, stretching yourself out, and once he returns, he fell down on the bed next to you, grabbing the remotes, flipping through the channels on the wide screen tv hanging across the room. It was an easy silence between you two when he settled it on a movie you two had seen many times before. Ransom was sitting against the headboard, your head laying on his stomach as you lay crossways across the bed. His fingers trailed slowly through your hair, the tv softly muffled and the only glow in the room.

After several minutes, he spoke, his voice catching your attention. “Are you feeling better now Y/N?” You twist so that your able to look up at him, laying on your back, still pillowed on his stomach.

“Yes thank you Ransom”

“Anytime Sweetheart, you know I love you, but next time tell me before it gets that bad.”

@what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @jtargaryen18 @p8tn0lish @imanuglywombat

#ransom be my mean daddy any day #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out

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tumbledfreckles · 4 years

Text

No more Flirting

Jilytober Day 25 Prompt: 7th Year Lily thinking James is no longer interested in her. Read it AO3 or below

Maybe Rankin

Lily tapped her chin contemplatively over her tea as she watched Thomas Rankin from across the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff was of fair build, blonde, blue-eyed, handsome enough jawline. He played Quidditch, so he’d be fit. He was in most of her NEWT classes, all heavy subjects, so he couldn’t lack for brains. Judging by the way his mates were laughing and falling about themselves, he was humorous too.

Yes, he might do nicely.

Ignoring her friends startled looks and questions, Lily stood from the table and crossed the Great Hall. Smiling widely as Thomas’ friends noticed her beeline towards them, she politely pretended not to see the elbows they gave their mate.

Thomas turned fairly quickly at their prompts, his eyebrows raising when he saw Lily standing in front of him, “Well, this is a bit of an honour. Hullo, Lily.”

“Hi Thomas,” she blushed slightly at his enthusiastic smile and warm welcome. “Mind if I sit?”

He nodded, and obligingly shoved a mate further down the bench to clear a space for her. Lily shot an apologetic look at the boy, who shrugged and grinned. Really no hard feelings amongst this bunch, she thought wryly.

“Don’t let me interrupt the conversation,” she said when she realised they had all fallen silent. “You were all laughing so much I just had to come and find out why.”

“Thomas was telling a story,” one of the boys laughed.

“No, I really wasn’t,” Thomas glared at him.

“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t about him falling off his broom at Quidditch practise,” another boy muttered, only to be shoved by the first one.

Thomas laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head, “There might have been a bit of an accident last night,” he admitted to Lily with a sheepish smile.

She leaned forward, her hand brushing against his forearm, “Happens to the best of us,” she reassured him coyly, making herself feel a bit sick.

“So, what do we owe this pleasure?” Thomas asked curiously, pushing a glass of pumpkin juice towards her.

Lily took a sip, “Cheers. And nothing owed. Just thought we could catch up outside of classes for once. Complain about Runes where Venter can’t hear us.”

Thomas laughed, “We’ve been partnered together this term,” he explained to his mates. “Did you get that homework done?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad once you got through the first couple translations. Kind of knew what to expect after that. You?”

“Unfortunately, not. I’ll be scrambling to get it all done tonight, I reckon,” Thomas grimaced.

“I’ll be in the library if you need any help. We could study together,” Lily put up her most charming smile, brushed his arm again, and batted her eyelashes a bit for good measure. In case he didn’t get her drift.

He didn’t, “Oh great, yeah, cheers. Sam and Mike might need a bit of a hand too. If that’s alright?”

Lily’s smile dimmed slightly, but with a bit of work she fought to keep it there, “Yeah, course. More the merrier.” She realised her heart rate hadn’t changed once during the interlude and decided it was time to cut her loses and run. “Well, maybe see you later. Better get back to the girls and ready class. See you, bye, bye Thomas.”

After smiling around at them all, a hand to Thomas’ shoulder just in case he decided to become less oblivious, she left the group and headed back for the girls.

“What the,”

“Fuck,”

“Was that,”

Lily looked at Dorcas, Mary and Marlene respectively as she sat back down. They were looking at her in varying stages of disbelief and concern. “What?”

“Since when do you flirt with Thomas Rankin?” Mary curled her nose up. “And since when do you flirt so obviously.”

“It was like watching a dog on heat,” Marley agreed, and ignored the scowl Lily gave her. “It was, Merlin, girl. Have some class.”

“You did come on a bit strong,” Dorcas always displayed more tact than the others. She cast her eyes further down the table, “I thought you were interested in someone else though?”

“Don’t think that’s working out,” Lily admitted with a shrug, refusing to follow her gaze. She hadn’t known he was in the Hall when she’d gone over to Thomas but wasn’t sure what she would have done differently if she had.

“You seemed pretty chumming after the match last weekend,” Mary frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Lily said hastily, packing up her things and shoving them into her bag. “I just, I don’t think he’s into me anymore.”

“Lily, I don’t think that’s true.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t think you could be more wrong.”

Where the girls had spoken in coordination early, now they spoke over the top of each other. Lily smiled at them and stood from the table. “It’s fine,” she assured them, trying to sound bright and carefree. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”

Another round of protests started but Lily waved them off and turned away. She walked quickly out of the Hall, keep her head down, arms crossed over her chest as she walked past the rest of the table. She had Charms next, and felt relief knowing she could chitchat with Flitwick quite happily for all the time she was early. Now there was a man who would never let her down.

Just as she reached the long corridor that led to the classroom, she was grabbed from behind and pulled behind a tapestry. A hand covered her mouth to stifle her scream. Her captor pulled at her waist and pushed her against the wall in the small, almost pitch-black alcove.

“What the fuck was that, Evans,” the voice whispered harshly in her ear. The hand lifted from her mouth so she could answer, coming to rest on the wall next to her head, caging her in.

Lily simultaneously relaxed and tensed as she recognised the voice. “What was what?”

“Don’t pretend,” James tightened his grip on her waist. “Don’t be cute.”

“I’m not being cute. And I’m not pretending anything,” Lily pushed at James’ chest indignantly, but he didn’t budge. “Oi, let me out.”

“Not until you tell me why I just watched you flirt with some thick Hufflepuff who didn’t even have the brains to know his luck had come in.”

She huffed, “He is not thick.”

“He fell off his broom, Evans! Trying to talk and fly at the same time.”

“Not everyone can be a bloody show off like you.”

“He’s a Quidditch player! He should be able to multi-task at least a little bit.”

“He’s nice,” she protested feebly, not even sure why she was bothering.

“He’s a buffoon,” James squeezed at her waist again. “And you haven’t denied flirting with him.”

“Did you want me to lie?” Lily’s eyes were finally adjusting to the dim light, and she tilted her head up to look at the Head Boy challengingly. “Because we said we wouldn’t do that.”

“I want an explanation,” James meet her stare head on. “I think I’m owed that, at least.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she jabbed at his chest with her index finger.

“No? So, it’s normal for you to kiss someone at a party, and then flirt with someone else three days later?” James tilted his head at her challengingly. “That’s appropriate behaviour to you?”

“Is it appropriate behaviour to kiss someone and then ignore them for three days?” Lily glared at him, “Because that’s what you did.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“No, what would you call it then?”

“Trying to make bloody sure that you didn’t just kiss me because you were drunk! Trying to make sure you didn’t freak out after months of playing at this bloody dance with you.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Lily blinked, leaning back when she realised she’d been leaning forward, into James. “Why did you think I was drunk?”

“You smelt like that punch Sirius spiked,” James shrugged. His hand loosened on her waist. “I only realised later that you’d probably had no idea he’d dumped all that Ogden’s into it.”

Lily shook her head, “I didn’t drink it. Mary spilt her drink on me early on, and I realised what was in it when I saw the empty bottles under the table when I got her a new one. I wasn’t drunk.”

“Oh,” James looked down, into the small, empty space between them. “Good.”

“Worried I was going to say you forced me?”

“Worried you were going to say you regretted it.”

“Well, don’t you? Regret it, I mean,” Lily hastened to continue when James looked at her in confusion. “You’ve ignored me since, so I figured it was a bad kiss and you realised you’ve been wasting all this time chasing after me.”

“Is that what you really think?” James moved somehow closer to her, and his hand slid further up until his hand spanned her ribcage.

“Or that it really was just all a game to you,” Lily kept her chin tucked, gaze fixed on James’ cloak pin. “That you’d caught me and now you were done with me.”

“Is that all you think of me,” his voice was rough again, but the hand that moved from the wall to tilt her chin up was gentle. “You really think that little of me.”

“I didn’t,” she tried to explain, “But when you didn’t say anything, avoided me in the Tower, sat down the other end of the Hall, I didn’t know what else to think.”

“You goose,” he growled. “I was trying to not freak you out. And I didn’t know if you’d told the girls, seeing no one said anything to me, and I didn’t think I could be around you without making it obvious.”

“How would you make it obvious?” Lily’s voice sounded small against his harsher tone.

“Because I didn’t think I could be near you without wanting to do this again,” James didn’t wait for Lily to digest his words before he surged forward, capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was searing, hot and demanding, pulling Lily forward into him, leaving her clutching at his shirt as she tried to keep up. His tongue sought entrance and slid along hers, his hand weaving into her hair to hold the back of her head. He used his grip to change the angle, creating a gorgeous slip and slide of their lips.

Lily’s hands travelled incessantly, across his chest, to his shoulders, to his neck, where her fingernails traced lightly along his hairline. She moaned as his thumb brushed against the underside of her breast. She fought to give as good as she got, pushing up onto her toes to even out the height difference. James took pity, wrapping an arm around her and lifting, pulling her against him and holding her there. Lily took advantaged of this new angle to latch her lips to his neck, sucking at his pulse point until he groaned in much the same tenor as her own response.

Eventually they slowed and pulled back, breathing heavily. James slowly released her, but the slide of Lily’s body against his as her feet hit the floor cause a fresh sheen of sweat to break out and a shudder ran through her body.

“I could never regret that, Lily,” James whispered huskily in her ear before kissing a sensitive spot just underneath it. “And it’s not a game to me.”

“It’s not a game to me, either,” Lily responded hurriedly. “And I’m sorry, about before. I was embarrassed that you seemed to be over me and guess I wanted a bit of an ego boost.” She winced, “Not that it worked.”

“Tosser,” James kissed her again, a balm to her wounded pride. “If he can’t work out when the most gorgeous girl in school is flirting with him, he doesn’t deserve even a hello from you.”

“My heart wasn’t really in it,” Lily admitted.

“Good,” James half glared down at her, but she couldn’t tell he was trying not to smile at her admission. “No more flirting with anybody, except me. Or you won’t like what happens.”

Lily slid her hands from James’ shoulders to back up around his neck, “If it’s anything like this, I might be tempted.”

James roared and launched at her, stealing a kiss before returning his attention to her neck, nipping and sucking even as he muttered scolds at her. Lily’s giggles turned to a gasp as his hands went to her hip and her breast, taking no mercy as they glided across her body, setting it on fire.

“Alright,” she breathed shakily. “No more flirting. I swear.”

#jilytober #jilytober 2020 #james potter #lily evans #prompts #flirting #denial #ive overloaded on brownie and i have no regrets #except editing #but you guys won't care right?#its good brownie #can share recipe #freckles writes #freckles bakes

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mcrmadness · 3 years

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Madness draws: Behind the Scenes of the latest Farin&Bela pencil drawing.

Aka the one that’s also my icon, even when that was a big risk to take because normally I start hating the photos I have once drawn, especially if I have failed miserably. This is how the drawing itself turned out:

ATTENTION: The original post about that drawing, with better image, behind this link.

This post is solely about the process itself with lots of pictures and also plenty of gifs, because I promised to do one if people would like to see that and I got some comments saying that they’re looking forward for that. So, here’s now that post!

For starters I have to apologize for the terrible quality that is the photos. I used my phone camera only and never thought about posting them, I just took them as a reference for myself and to show the progress to a friend and only after finishing the drawing I noticed that the angle of the camera causes a huge impact on the perspective of the drawing, so I sometimes might have done useless work when I thought some perspective was wrong when it was actually the photo that was wrong and not my work! I mean, take a look at these photos of the finished piece:

You see that? I realized this when I took maybe the second photo of the Farin sheet and looked at it and couldn’t believe my eyes because I didn’t remember drawing his torsto THAT small! And then I looked at the drawing and was like “wtf???” because it looked nothing like in the photo and then it hit me...

Also, another thing that I learn was that I might need to pay more attention to the perspective of the whole thing also because when I draw, I sit at the table so I am constantly seeing the drawing from my perspective instead of looking at it from above so that’s probably also going to affect the way I draw. I try to keep that in mind in the future so I can avoid redrawing things again and again just because my perspective is different than the reference photo’s.

Also the giant forehead of Farin’s in the photo on the right might have caused me to laugh a bit too much but anyway, let’s continue~ Or more like: let’s start for real this time.

Here’s the reference photo to y’all:

What I did in photoshop was to draw a line between them to see how I can divide the photo on two A4 papers. I had been thinking about this photo for some time already because it’s one of my favorites (but now I just feel cringy looking at it after I have drawn it... goddamnit!), and I got this idea that I could try drawing it on two papers in case I fuck up so I can start over or try again without having to do twice the work! Which was actually a good decision because this was the first version of Farin:

And it was awful. I also realized I had never drawn Farin’s face from he front. I have drawn him before from the side a few times but maybe once it came out actually good so that was why I decided to do the 2 paper method - because I knew it was not going to be an easy job! Bela is relatively easy to draw so I knew already that I would not have too many problems with that one.

I struggled with Farin’s eyes the most, at first.

It took me a while to figure out how to do that white line in his lower lid. Keep in mind that this was my first face portrait in over 10 years so I was very, very rusty and I just didn’t remember how to draw like anything anymore. (The photo is tilted because Bela’s face is a bit tilted and my hand can’t draw anything that is not straight [lol] so I have to rotate the photo in order to even draw the sketch of Bela’s eyes.)

So I took my sketchbook and tried to do some eyes...

I was still struggling so much here until I remembered about blending. And I didn’t have my hopes high but grabbed the eyeshadow applicators (my fave tool for blending) anyway, and switched to my other sketchbook in case the paper was the issue and:

Blending. It was all about blending! So with that in mind, I realized I can continue and I don’t need to do these in my old way, everything doesn’t have to have a lineart done but some of the job is done not with the pencils but with the eraser.

Anyhow, the previous Farin looked really bad and was too big as well so I just discarded that and started a new sheet because the old lines were not coming off properly anymore. I don’t remember if this is the old face or new but I think this might still be the old one:

Yes it definitely is the old because look at those lines! This is the new sheet:

And in the photo you can see one of my pencils - I use Derwent Graphic pencils, it’s a 12 pencil set with very soft pencils, starting with H, F and HB and ending to 9B. With this one I used F, HB, B, 2B, 5B, 7B and 9B. The white pencil is actually my new love aka the eraser pencil Koh-I-Noor Hardmuth. It’s amazing, I recommend! I just didn’t order 10 new ones this other day. I actually used about 1,5 full eraser pencils on this drawing alone so that’s why 10.

Here’s a “little” gif of the process on Farin:

I felt crazy when I went for the shirt, and I felt like I was going crazy MEANWHILE drawing it but in the end I did it and I’m super proud of it!

Below is the reference photo, it was pain in the ass to follow all those lines with my eyes and try to find what was I drawing and where was I but I think I did good. That was a fun challenge.

Okay so, when I was done with the new lineart, I decided to go for the shading and blending because that’s what really makes the drawings to pop. I started with the left (his right, my left) side of Farin’s face because I’m right-handed, and in the first photo I had done just the left (right) eye and mouth and nose, but in the second there’s also the other eye done already:

Keep in mind this was not the last time I drew the eyes. Not even close.

Something was off with the right (left) eye so I had to do that one again and I noticed that when you blend but haven’t erased and cleaned it yet, it looks like a black eye :DDD So here’s the before and after images of that cleaning. (Cleaning = I draw, blend, erase, draw and blend more when needed and then erase again, and repeat this as many times as I need until it starts to look ready to my eye.)

So here Farin was “finished” but if you still remember the final piece or compare it to it, you might notice it looks quite different. And you’re right. But more about that later, because at this point I started to work on Bela.

It actually started really well - I also had to do the whole lineart again because it did not match the size of “finished” Farin. I don’t remember if this is the first or second eye but when I had drawn his eye for the first time, I noticed it was not in line with Farin so I had to redraw it. A gif of the progress:

What’s that brown paper I’m using, you may ask? Well I noticed that people have some sort of paper on top of their art to keep it from smudging and I have no clue what that is so here’s my poor artist recommendation: baking paper! I tested it and it works (if you just remember to keep it under your hand, that is...) so that is, in fact, baking paper! :DD

I have drawn Bela’s face a few times before and he’s just so much easier to draw. In fact I used 4-5 days on Farin but I managed to start and finish (this version of) Bela just in one day. And that means that out of 12 hours (because I literally used the whole day for drawing) I used maybe like... 5h or something on Bela. That’s how much easier he really is to draw.

I don’t know wtf is wrong with Farin’s face but he’s extremely difficult to draw and I’m not the only one who has been saying this. I guess he just looks so regular but still unique enough to be difficult to draw. Bela then again has features that are very unique and very... caricature-like? I mean that just by drawing his nose or chin you can make a comic book Bela look exactly like himself, and with more realistic style his eyes already do a lot, but Farin’s really the opposite. My comic book version of Farin is literally the most basic version I can draw, it’s how I draw those characters and the only thing that makes him look himself is the hair, and his nose in a side profile. So I think that’s why it’s so difficult to draw him because he doesn’t look too regular but still regular enough to make is a very challenging task to do properly.

So yeah, the same day as I started working on Bela, I was also “finished” with the drawing:

Also look at how different it looks like from this perspective:

With the reference photo open in photoshop and I don’t understand how Bela looks more like himself in my drawing than in the photo. Also when I showed the WIP to my brother, he said that I somehow had succeeded at making Farin look more like Farin than what he does in the photo even. It’s weird.

But we were still far from finished. I was going to use the fixative on this soon but it just kept snowing the whole week so I couldn’t so every time I walked past the drawings, I stopped to fix this and that. For days I kept telling myself “I’m done, I can’t do more than this, I can’t do better than this.” and considered the drawing finished but still kept fixing things. Every time I was “done” with the other drawing, I saw something to fix in the other one and once that was done, I felt like the first one wasn’t as good and had to fix something from it too. And that led to a cycle where the other drawing was always better than the other and the worse one needed to be fixed. In the end I was hating the whole process and myself and my skills and I was already ready to abandon this whole thing and call it a day and never ever show it to anyone “because I cannot draw”. The photo above, here’s a list of things I redrew after that:

Bela’s eyes, the right (left) one at least twice.

Bela’s nose.

Bela’s mouth a couple of times.

Farin’s eyes x588045028520

And a list of things I kept fixing and fixing:

Bela’s chin.

Bela’s neck shadows.

Bela’s hairline.

Farin’s whole face was tilted so I tried to fix that.

Farin’s face was too wide, which meant also partially redrawing the ear.

Farin’s hair was too long and wide too.

Farin’s nose.

Farin’s mouth might be the only thing I drew only once and I’m actually still extremely proud of how it came to be. I did the lips solely with blending so that was super exciting to notice how I can use it for drawing and don’t need the pencils for everything!

During Bela’s eyes and nose and mouth especially I was hating myself so much and I felt like I was taking the risk of ruining the whole thing and a few times I was certain that was what I had just done too, until I somehow was able to save it again. But because of that, I wasn’t able to make Bela’s mouth any lighter anymore, the color wasn’t just coming off the paper so had to use what was there and make it look like it’s how it’s supposed to be, too.

Here’s a gif about those changes on Bela - the first one has the old eyes and nose, the others have minor changed on the nose and mouth:

(The blacks probably don’t get any blacker in reality, I did add more color to it all the time but mainly it’s just the lighting and my phone camera changing the brightness.)

I did the final details on his nose without even using the reference photo anymore. The photo didn’t seem to make any sense anymore at all so I was just using my mechanical pencil and the blending tool and eraser to make is look better. To my eye it looked more like a very flat nose with a big tip of the nose and he doesn’t have a flat nose and I tried to get rid of that illusion. I still feel like it makes him look bit weird but I’m not entirely sure how. Maybe it was because of my improvisation, idk...

So, Bela was then finally finished for the last time. In the Farin piece his left (right) eye had been bugging me the whole time and I didn’t want to touch it but still I felt like I have to do something about it because it was bugging me way too much. I then figured I could draw the eye line by line and take a photo of it each time to see if it looks right already or not, maybe I could then avoid doing all the phases before I was sure what to think about it. I mean, now the only way to see if it was correct was to draw e.g. an eye from start to finish, I couldn’t see from just the lineart or unblended eye if it was in the right spot etc. And here’s that progress on a gif:

The gif about only the eye would look so nice if Tumblr didn��t make the gifs so HUGE - this one is actually only 300px or 400px or something:

Apparently I also wasn’t happy with the other eye because:

But good thing is: I really enjoy drawing eyes. I love seeing them to “come alive”, my favorite part was to eraser a bit of the color on the iris to make them look like they are actually shiny! It feels like something so small to do and yet it makes a huge impact on the drawing!

And here’s yet another gif of the whole Farin sheet with all of the changes, including the last changes that made his head narrower, and less tilted and more in line. Look at the left side of his head especially to see that:

I can also see his nose changing between the first few photos. I keep forgetting about that but yeah, I also fixed that a little at some point.

And last but not least, the whole drawing in some sort of a timelapse gif:

Last two are the same but just a photo and the scan of the finished drawing. I still keep seeing things I would do differently but no can do, I already used fixative on it, also to keep myself from obsessing with it any more :D And to use it as a study of some sort. I have never been able to draw a perfect pencil drawing and this isn’t one either. I probably never can draw perfect drawings from references.

I do enjoy the whole shading and blending process, so much so that when I was editing these photos, I just wanted to start drawing something so bad but I also figured that I start to lose motivation when I get to the point where everything should be finished but I just can’t make it perfect. Like the current WIP I have, all I should do is to get the proportions and perspective and the lines of their faces correctly and I would be ready but it feels more like a superpower some people possess and I’m not one of those. I don’t know what is it but I just feel that I cannot see. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can’t see what I try to do and somehow keep drawing everything the wrong way. Just like in this post’s drawing too. There’s still things that are wrong and I know what it is but I don’t know how to solve it. My hands just don’t listen to me and they can’t do what I think they should. I also think the reason I cannot draw perfect copies of photos is because you can always see my “handprint” in them. If I copy a photo, it will look like a photo and not like a drawing made by me. So I believe that in my drawing there’s always a part of me visible and I’m not entirely sure if it’s a good thing or not. On bad days it’s not a good thing, obviously. On good days? Well I guess it’s good then because it just means I have my own style which I really should appreciate. But I wish I had my style only when I want it to be visible, but I can’t control it. Just like I cannot write text by hand that would look like it was written with a computer, so I guess I should just try to get used to it, no matter how much it’d bug me sometimes.

#mcrmadness draws #mcrmadness draws: behind the scenes #dä fanart #die ärzte

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nostalthicc · 4 years

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hives | jeff wittek

jeff wittek x reader, zane hijazi x reader[PLATONIC]

summary: delayed allergic reactions are the worst, especially when they happened off a steep slip n’ slide. this is bad summary. im sorry. im supppperr bad at them.

warnings: fluff, slight angst, cursing, allergic reaction

1.9k words

lower case intended ` not my gif

y/n would usually jump on the idea of being in a video with two of her best friends- jeff and zane -but she had a photoshoot she needed to get over with because she has been pushing it back for ages. the last video they all did together was one of the most viewed videos on y/n’s channel. everyone said their chaotic and crackhead energy all evened out with one another. which they all knew was true, their jokes always bounced off each other. that's all y/n and jeff heard that all the time before they started dating, that they were a perfect match and continue to hear it to this day.

she decided to pick wraps from hat favorite shop near jeff's apartment. y/n had just finished her shoot and was heading over to her boyfriend’s to hang out with him and zane before they all went to david's for the night. when she to jeff's they were still finishing up the video for his channel.

“oh wow, look who decided to show up.” jeff said, pointing to y/n. reggie turned the camera towards the girl, who just scowled and threw her middle fingers before walking to the kitchen to put the food in the fridge. “and she brought food!”

zane turned around in the chair to face y/n. “y/n/n, baby! help me, please, look what he did to me, he's making my hairline recede even more than it already was!” he shouted, thrashing around in the chair causing jeff to have to pause on fixing certain stops. y/n laughed as the two started bickering about zane’s whining. soon getting bored with their fussing, she made her way to jeff's room to change into something cozier than the outfit she had to wear for the shoot, she felt as though the material was stabbing her skin and could feel herself already growing extremely itchy.

david had texted the groupchat to come early and bring a swimsuit which never led to anything good or safe but no one ever seemed to question and y/n would not be the first. the three of them all headed to david's, zane was driving but y/n and jeff were in a very intense game of cup pong. the winner got to choose dinner and the loser had to pay.

when they arrived at david’s house everyone was there except alex and nick. inside they were many drinks scattered around- as usual -and a few people y/n didn't recognize, she figured they were here to set up david's miraculous plan. everyone was supposed to carpool to motley lake because they were going to be using the giant hill for a slip n’ slide. y/n loved the water, this was probably one of the first of david's idea she wasn't hesitant about, which says a lot for all the ideas that come from him.

the set up was perfect, the huge line of tarp expanded down the hill, the sunset, and the water. jeff, y/n, zane, heath, and mariah stopped by the store to get floaties, oils, and soaps. the floaties were zane and y/n’s idea.

everyone was now gathered at motley with the proper essentials, they were ready to start the video. y/n wore one of the new bikinis she got with carly, erin, and suzy a few weeks ago on their monthly shopping trip. she hadn't had the chance to wear it yet and it was probably the sturdiest swimsuit owned.

“baby! get in the donut with me!” zane shouted at y/n, who was talking to erin and mariah. she had no intentions of going first and the entire slide somehow collapsing in on itself- that was zanes thing. but despite her doubt, she hopped on the back of the tube, letting todd and heath push them over the edge. the anticipation of getting down the slide was worse than coming in contact with the lake, even though y/n completely flew out of the floaty into the air as they reached the bottom.

jeff ran over to y/n as she got closer to the top of the hill. “are you okay?” he asked, a concerned look on his face, he scanned her entire body to check for any injuries and her bikini straps before throwing a towel around her shoulders. he always worried about her when she did all the crazy stuff with zane or for david's vlog because she is the clumsiest and most oblivious person he's ever met. she will basically do anything anyone asked of her because of her kind and reckless nature.

“did you see that!” y/n flung her arms around in the air, she had a huge rush of adrenaline from the slide but the longer she had both of her feet planted on the ground the faster she was starting to crash from that same rush. “actually i think i need to sit down,” she said, allowing jeff to lead her to the peak of the hill and set her down next to david who had his camera pointed straight at them. y/n’s heavy breathing attracted the attention of Jason and Josh- the parents of the group. josh plucked the towel off of her shoulders to inspect her back to see a dark red, raging rash along her upper back. he then moved around back to her front, he gently grabbed her chin to look at her eyes before instructing y/n to open her mouth. her tongue was swollen. “y/n, you’re having an allergic reaction.” Josh said calmly. “what are you allergic to?” she tried to speak but couldn’t from the coughing and heavy breathing. by now the entire group as circled around them trying to see what was wrong with their friend.

natalie pushed past the crowd to get next to jeff. “she’s allergic to bees,” she burst out, watching as jeff and zane share a look but natalie decided to ignore it to focus on y/n. “we should take her to the hospital unless someone has an epipen.” after a few seconds in the silence jeff picked up his girlfriend, hurrying to carry her to his car. he explained the prank he pulled on zane for his video that he didn’t know she had a bee allergy.

david, jason, josh, natalie, todd, and zane all piled into jeff’s car to travel with y/n to the ER. jason constantly told jeff he was an idiot the entire ride there. y/n was in between natalie and todd in the backseat, she had started wheezing soon after they got in the car, only adding to the coughing and heavy breathing.

jeff didn’t even park the car before getting out to take y/n in the hospital, as soon as he stepped foot in the building he was shouting to nurses to get the sick girl help. they acted quickly, helping jeff get her into a room before they immediately started getting her on oxygen and got her an epi-shot. everyone was forced out of the room so they had room to treat on y/n.

“jeff, calm down. the doctor said we got her here in time, she’s going to be okay.” natalie told a frantic jeff who hadn’t stopped pacing since they got kicked out. she has been trying to calm him down for about thirty minutes but nothing has helped. he can’t help but like this entire situation was his fault, even though he didn’t know. he was completely shaken by events of the day.

when they were finally allowed back in, y/n was asleep due to the sedative they gave her to stabilize her body down from the shock. she looked absolutely pitiful hooked up to all the machines, even though they were only for vitals and to watch her heart and lungs. natalie, jason, and david were quick to excuse themselves to find food and water for everyone when y/n woke up- they were really trying to let jeff and y/n have space, zane and todd didn’t get the memo.

“did you know she was allergic to bees?” jeff question his two friends left in the room with him. he needed to know to ease his mind that he wasn’t the only clueless moron who didn’t know she was allergic to freaking bees.

zane and todd shook their heads no. “she never told me anything.” todd replied.

running his fingers through his hair, a long, heavy sigh escaped jeff’s lips. “fuck, i just feel so stuid. it’s really messing me up, man. y/n could have died and it would’ve been my fault, the one person i can’t live without could have died on my hands.” he paused, looking at all the equipment attached to her. “i’ve seen and heard a lot of shit but this really fucks me up, you know.” todd put a comforting hand on jeff’s shoulder, he felt for him, jeff wasn’t one to show much emotion so to see him this shaken up makes him upset.

“it was all of us, jeff. we all agreed on the prank, we didn’t know but i don’t think she blames you,” zane told his friend, his eyes trailing to an awake y/n behind him. jeff followed his gaze to his girlfriend who had tears building in her eyes. his mind immediately went to bad reasons of why she was upset but he was so, so wrong. zane and todd hurriedly gave y/n a hug before making their way out the room to let the couple talk.

jeff opened his mouth to speak but y/n cut him off before he could ramble out a ton of apologies. “first off, i’m not mad, i could never be mad at something so innocent. i mean, i didn’t even tell you- or anyone for that matter. which now i see was stupid but i never thought i would run into many bees in LA. secondly, what you said- that was so fucking sweet, like really fucking sweet. no one in my life has cared about me the way you do and i couldn’t say thank you enough.” she bit her lip to try and conceal her sob but it came out anyway. “and i- i really love you for it, for everything. god, i probably will never be mad at you so anything. i would end up in a million hospitals just to hear you say those things again.” everything she said was true, y/n loved him and what better time to tell him than in the ER. his silence was setting a bad feeling in the pit of her chest though, many doubtful thoughts rushing through her head. had she said the wrong thing? was it too soon? did he hate her for not telling him about the allergy? “please say something or do something- just anything. p-please.”

“you love me?” he asked.

“yeah, i really fucking love you,” she exclaimed, another sob leaving her lips. the twinkle in jeff’s eye could be seen from a mile away. he swiftly made his way to the bed, bringing y/n in for an embrace, he maintained the urge to squeeze and never let go ever again. they held each other for ages, they were the people in the building- in the world right now.

jeff lifted his head from the crook of her neck. “i really fucking love you too.” he said before bringing her into a long, passionate kiss which was interrupted by their friends joining them in the room once again.

#jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #david dobrik #jefft wittek #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #jason nash #zane hijazi #toddy smith #natalie mariduena #josh peck

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ikesenhell · 4 years

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Together, Alone

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 4. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Thanks to @missjudge-me for this commission!

---

The bonfire was everything Masamune wanted.

Darkness fell early, a boon. Nobunaga and Mitsuhide built an expert fire, and by the time the burgers were rolled out, everyone was good and hungry. Thick patties with cheese (vegan cheese and an impossible burger for Ieyasu), roasted potato rounds, a side salad—silence reigned for around twenty seconds as they all tucked in. Masamune considered it a compliment.

Mitsunari chatted about his time in Tanzania. His violet eyes and grey hair were stark against his now-bronzed skin, his t-shirt stretched rather than hanging loose off formerly bony arms. Every time he grinned, Ieyasu practically shoved his face into the burger.

“Y’good there, sport?” Masamune checked him in the ribs.

Ieyasu scowled. “Why?”

Mitsuhide, too, had clocked onto the new state of affairs. He carefully concealed his smile and rounded on Mitsunari. “Why, Mitsunari, my friend, you certainly have physically changed since your last time stateside.”

Mitsunari blinked. “Have I?”

“Yes. You’ve toned up. Stand, would you?”

“The food—” Ieyasu choked, struggling to change the discussion. “The food is—is really good—”

It almost worked; Mitsunari opened his mouth to agree, but Mitsuhide already had him by the arm, pulling him to his feet. “I want to see how many abs I can count now.”

“Why? I don’t have an abnormal number of them—”

In the glittering firelight, she shoved her face into a cider bottle, trying to mask her laughter. Masamune’s chest tightened. “How many crunches can you do now, Mitsunari?”

“I don’t know.” Puzzled, Mitsunari let Mitsuhide strip him of his polo. His newfound figure flickered in sharp edges in the firelight. Ieyasu gagged on a potato round. “I didn't spend a lot of time in the gym at Tanzania…”

“No?” Nobunaga folded his arms across his chest, staring pointedly at Ieyasu. “I’m sure you were kept busy with your charity work. Obviously, your enviable mind was the reason you were most valued.”

“Oh, definitely.” Even the Kitten joined in, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Going on two tours with the Peace Corps and getting an accelerated masters? Not a lot of people can do that.”

Mitsunari was practically scarlet. “Well, thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without all the support I received, especially from Ieyasu—”

“Go to hell,” Ieyasu muttered.

“—there you go, being too modest to accept the praise.”

Masamune had never seen anyone chug their beer as fast as Ieyasu managed in the moment. “If we’re gonna try and troll someone—which isn’t working, by the way—”

Mitsunari blinked. “Who are we trolling?”

“—then why haven’t we given Masamune hell yet?”

“Me?” Masamune laughed. “I’m shameless. Besides, I don’t even know what you’d get me for.”

Hideyoshi doubled with laughter. Four pairs of eyes blinked in his direction.

“Anyway.” Ieyasu cut in. “If anyone wants to just help me get the dirty things inside before we attract ants, that would be great.”

Mitsunari volunteered with a smile. Ieyasu scowled, but stacked up his arms with dishes anyway, the two of them disappearing into the house. Nobunaga and Mitsuhide dipped their heads together to confer on some unknowable secret, Hideyoshi stoking the fire protectively. Left to their own devices, Masamune wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

Tugging her tighter to him, he rubbed her arm slowly. “Do you need a jacket or something?”

“No.” Quietly, she curled her knees under his, resting her cheek onto his shoulder. His stomach blazed protectively. “I’m good right here.”

“Nothing like a fire in the fall, huh?”

“No, nothing.” She sighed. “I love the clear smell of the air and the burning logs. It’s really nostalgic.”

That it was. But as much as he’d been thinking about the past, as he carded a hand through her hair, he couldn’t help but ask. “Where do you think you’ll be in five years?”

Her soft smile was everything. “Why do you ask? You’re not much of a person to make future plans.”

Masamune chuckled. “No, I’m not. I prefer living in the moment. I was just curious. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the past since my dad died, so I’m trying to get back into the now and the future.”

It sounded like nonsense out of his mouth, but she smiled, so he assumed something made sense. At last, she shrugged. “There are a whole lot of things in flux right now. I suppose I just want the next five years to end with me being happy.”

Good answer. Scrunching her hair affectionately, he answered, “That’s all I’d ever want for you, Kit Kat.”

He felt her smile in the crook of his shoulder. Resting back on his elbow, he stilled himself, and before long, she was sound asleep, breath fanning on his skin. In the quietest part of his heart, he prayed for her good dreams.

---

Mitsunari offered the guest bedroom that he’d been staying in, so Masamune tucked her in himself. She roused only a little when he brought her inside.

“Where are we going?” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“To bed, Kitten,” Masamune murmured. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Even after all of these years, she trusted him, curling tight against his chest. He turned back the covers and peeled off her shoes and socks, arranging them under the bed. Lights of a passing car shimmered through the blinds and scanned her sleeping face.

Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Masamune gently slid her cold toes under the covers and wrapped her tight in a blanket. “Goodnight, Kitten.”

Ieyasu was the only one still awake, subtly stirring a mug of tea. Masamune lingered in the shadows of the hallway. The blonde kept glancing over the bar into the living room, his eyes searching over the others sleeping forms, lingering over Mitsunari’s fluffy bedhead, mouth softening.

Masamune finally broke his silence. “Hey. Got a second mug?”

Those green eyes blew wide, but Ieyasu kept his composure and fished one out of the cabinet. “Not a lot left.”

“That’s fine. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. I’ll fix more.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Ieyasu ignored him and fished out the tea tin. Masamune hoisted himself onto the counter. “So when are you gonna talk to him?”

“Who?”

“Mitsunari.”

No doubt it was only the late hour that kept Ieyasu from his usual snark and defense. Instead the blonde sighed raggedly, pouring hot water over the strainer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yasu, buddy. You haven’t stopped giving him heart eyes since he got here. Tanzania was good to him, clearly.”

Ieyasu shrugged.

“You gotta say something eventually.”

“I really don’t.”

Someone in the living room shifted. They both fell silent before Masamune continued. “I mean, theoretically, yeah, you don’t have to. But I think it would go better than you think. You’re obviously head over heels for the dude.”

The faint clink of a spoon echoed in the kitchen. Without ceremony, Ieyasu placed the dark blue mug in Masamune’s hand. “Made like you like it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Ieyasu tucked himself into the corner of the fridge and the cabinets, cupping his own cup tight in his palms. In the shadowy under-cabinet light, his dark circles were almost picturesque. “Are you gonna ride my dick about this?”

“I don’t think so.” Masamune paused. “I’m not trying to, like, annoy you. I just think it would go really well. He’s had a thing for you for ages.”

Those green eyes flared with hope and indignation. “Come on.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s been obvious to everyone but you for years.”

Ieyasu ground his teeth. “Why does this matter so much to you anyway? Trying to get me to do what you won’t do?”

A beat. Masamune hesitated once more, mug halfway to his mouth and mind reeling. What the hell was he talking about? “I don’t have a crush on Mitsunari—”

“No, you idiot.” He thumbed into the hallway. “Her.”

For the briefest of moments, time stilled. A crush? He didn't have a crush. Did he? Sure, he thought she was beautiful, and funny, and he treasured her, but there were lots of people that met those criteria. Right? He treasured Ieyasu and didn't want to kiss him, and kissed a lot of people that he hadn’t treasured, but still respected. She just happened to fall into both of those categories. That didn't mean he had a crush.

Did he?

“You haven’t even realized.” Ieyasu’s eyebrows were in his hairline.

He’d never grown tired of her, not once. He’d never tried too hard to make her more than what they were—why? All those years of closeness, the easy intimacy, the reckless way he’d always cared for her. Was that just friendship? Of course he could envision himself in bed with her (who couldn’t?), and he valued her thoughts, and he wanted the best for her, and—

When they were in high school, he’d asked her to junior prom by flinging a balled up piece of paper at her head across Government class. She went, of course—they wore matching gold and blue—but the next year Hideyoshi asked her with a bouquet of roses he’d grown from his bushes. Masamune never knew what jealousy felt like before that. He’d swallowed it down with the consolation that it was just as friends, that it was technically like they were going together anyway, right?

And then he’d been defensive when Hideyoshi held her hand in the hall today...

“Holy shit.” Masamune concluded.

“You didn't know?!” Ieyasu barely restrained his volume.

“I didn't think about it too hard,” he admitted. He reeled, searching his feelings. He’d never been too invested in finding a long term partner before, let alone concerned in finding one in general. He could always find someone to be with if he was lonely. But her? So much more of him was invested. He could feel her name all the way down through his toes. Hells, the only thing that mattered to him was her happiness. “I—fuck, man. I never really sat down and had this conversation with myself.”

“We all thought you knew.” Disbelieving awe reflected in Ieyasu’s face. “That’s why Hideyoshi laughed tonight. We thought you’d been carrying this torch for ages and at least knew about it. You’re more oblivious than Mitsunari.”

Masamune chose to sip his tea instead of answering. Her face played out a thousand different ways in his mind’s eye. They were going to Virginia for a job interview, and he had to stay home with his mom, go back to his old life and his old job eventually. That was hundreds of miles away. And there was no way she felt the same about him. As much as things stayed the same, no doubt she believed he’d changed somewhat.

And yet…

“Tell you what.” Masamune drained his mug and placed it in the sink. “I’ll think about it. And you should, too. Deal?”

Ieyasu rolled his eyes. “Not like you’ll give me a choice.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Good night, ‘Yasu.”

Well into the small hours of the morning, Masamune lay awake in his makeshift bed on the living room floor, surrounded by the soft breath and snores of his friends and remembering how the weight of her head felt on his shoulder.

#American Dream #Together Alone #ikesen masamune #roadtrip story #roadtrip #modern au #ieyasuxmitsunari #my writing #commission

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hunnybadgerv · 4 years

Text

Catching Matt | Free To Be | Remy McGinnis/Matt Miller

Summary: Remy returns from a mission more quickly than anyone anticipated, especially Matt.

a/n: So this prompt has been only partially finished for a long time. I drafted something earlier today and then wandered through my drafts folder and stumbled on this little piece. I realized it was mostly done and then started a revision where I wound up rewriting almost every single word in this fic. It is based on the image at the following link, which is very, very NSFW: http://31.media.tumblr.com/a69afe5c7ea9924ef083de2f15403377/tumblr_mur07iD1QF1s7qh9to1_400.gif

AO3

NSFW Under the cut (Yep, from the very first line.)

Catching Matt

The whoosh of the door was quieter than the music on the other side. When Remy saw his head pressed hard against the back of the sofa, she halted. Matt’s lips parted with a breathy sigh that reminded her of how he reacted anytime she went down on him. He made the exact same sound whenever she finally stopped teasing him and took him into her mouth for the first time.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned.

The way his head moved, she could tell this wasn’t just one of those quick shower moments everyone had. A smirk curled across her lips as she tiptoed toward the back of the sofa to sneak a peek.

Matt had pulled his suit completely off, which left him nude as far as she could see. And his whole body rolled like a lurid wave as his hand stroked the length of his erection.

For a moment, her eyes fixed on the fading bite mark she’d left on his shoulder a day or so earlier. Then Remy licked her lips and bit the bottom one as she peeked on her lover, becoming the unintended audience for a very private show. She was certain she knew the reason behind it. They’d talked about it.

Though she didn’t really understand why, it drove Matt to irritation that he still regularly beat her to the finish when they had sex. His impatience with himself only seemed to get worse, the more he tried not to climax first. Some of the time when it happened, it would downright piss him off, which he knew was just the wrong way to feel after making love to the woman he cared about. What seemed to just make it worse was the fact that Remy seemed unperturbed by it.

Of course, in her experience, that was just the way sex was. For her, it wasn’t the peak she was looking for, at least not with Matt. She craved the closeness, the intimacy of it, and even if he came first, she found what she was looking for from the moment—him. Orgasms were something she could handle easily if and when she needed one. But being in his arms, feeling his body against hers, kissing him with wanton abandon, those were some of the things that mattered most to her. Honestly, she could have been perfectly content most of the time to just kiss and cuddle him in the nude; of course that always kind of led them both to arousal. And she’d never turn down the chance to feel him inside her.

He’d asked her once how he could increase his stamina. She, noting being the owner of her own penis, was not sure and made a quick survey of the crew. Of course, when she broke that news to Matt he’d turned a shockingly vibrant shade of red.

After assuring him, no one would care, she shared her findings. It all boiled down to the idea of practicing how you plan to play. If he wanted to pop at the sight of her, he should just keep up with the 2-3 minute shower jerk off. To change things, he’d have to handle himself the way he wanted to handle his lover, slow and teasing, and unafraid to edge himself.

Until walking in on him, she wasn’t completely certain if he’d been taking that advice. He didn’t really touch himself around her unless he was trying to taunt her into sex. She wasn’t sure if it was inspired by his ego or not—his desire to match her longevity in bed—but it was endearing none the less.

The ebb and flow of his body always ended in the shimmy of his shoulders against the cushion. Sometimes a low groan punctuated each wave. His eyes were pressed closed, and she spared a momentary thought for what might be inspiring that decadent shift of lean muscle. His entire body flowed like water into the motion of his hand. Muscles tightened as his hips lifted and pressed into that touch that slid gracefully and greedily from base to tip. She could not fight off a smug smile at the way the motion mimmicked the manner in which she touched his cock—a firm grip tightening and closing around the tip before gliding back down the shaft.

She just couldn’t resist it, finding some way to join in. "Fuck, you're beautiful, Matt," she whispered in his ear.

He jolted upright, snapping his head to stare at her over his shoulder. She could tell he was trying to find something to say, something to excuse what she’d walked in on.

"Don't stop." She leaned on the back of the sofa and smiled at him. "I'm rather enjoying the show." She reached out for his shoulder and tried to help ease him back into that lovely pose.

His attention never left her, and even as he leaned against the couch, she could still read the tension in his body. Remy pressed a kiss against his temple, her fingers lightly brushing away the hair that fell over his forehead. “Please,” she whispered, dropping a kiss near his ear. “It really want to watch.”

Matt let out a tiny, throaty groan and seemed to relax a little more. When he reached back between his legs, and gave himself a teasingly slow pump, Remy licked her lips and pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. With the next, a hint of that roll entered his movement, starting in his hips.

She took care to touch his neck lightly, drawing her fingers down over his chest and back up in a way that wouldn’t interfere with the tidal way his body moved. “Fuck, Matt.”

His eyes were on her every time her gaze met his, there was no doubt now what he was thinking about.

When she pressed a sucking kiss to his neck, his free hand tangled in her hair and brought her mouth to his. Everything about the way the got himself off worked to turn her on, even down to the heavy way he breathed in her ear. Her hips shifted as she pressed her thighs together. She wanted to interfere so badly.

The kiss broke and her blue-gray eyes darted downward again. Matt had lost that stroke of bashfulness, though his pale skin still burned with a rosy pink hue. There wasn’t a trace of that uncertainty he’d shot her way when she surprised him.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous,” she whispered, moving her head to the other side of his. Her fingertips traced down his upturned chin then along the length of his neck.

He hummed, a grin parting his lips.

“Are you thinking of me?”

“Who else?” he challenged.

“Is it my hand on you? Or are you thinking about one of the many times I’ve ridden you on this very sofa?”

A hoarse laugh left his throat. “You tell me.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. She pressed her lips to his forehead, just at his hairline. “Maybe you’re thinking of that first time. After you’d watched me stretch through a yoga routine. Nothing but those tiny shorts and that sports bra.

Matt’s freehand wrapped around one of hers and brought it to his lips. He greedily kissed her, eyes closing lightly as his blue-tinged lips brushed the fleshy part of her hand near her thumb. “I still remember how fast you tore that t-shirt off.”

“Your skin was so warm,” he breathed, looking up at her.

Remy shifted in order to kiss him. The light brush of lips, got more firm when his free hand slipped behind her neck. His tongue traced the seam of her lips. She parted them and moaned around it when Matt’s tongue plunged into her mouth.

She knew this kind of kiss well; usually, only two things inspired it—either her doing something entirely too dangerous after which he would kiss her in this same kind of claiming way to reassert just how he felt about her or when he was close to orgasm. With the latter, he would kiss her that way, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth, sometimes matching the motion to the rhythm of his hips. The second way she assumed was for the same reason as the first, a reminder of their developing connection.

“Fuck,” he grunted. A deep moan resonated through him with the seismic shuddering of his body. His smooth motion turned spasmodic and a gasp quivered past his lips. The boss smiled at him softly, her hands soothing along his cheeks as he blinked back up at her.

"I thought you were going to be awhile," he murmured, leaning his head against hers.

"I got bored," she replied with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm kind of glad I did." When she smiled, he grinned shyly and looked away for a moment.

"I… umm …"

Remy hopped over the back of the couch and knelt on the cushion beside him. "You are beautiful and thoughtful and considerate." Her lips met his lightly after each adjective. "And that was hot." Another kiss, this one deeper. "And you have no idea how gorgeous you looked. How enticing."

Matt leaned back before she could peck him again. The question he could not seem to find the words for were etched on his face.

She leaned a little closer, her index finger ghosting along his collarbone to the hollow at the base of his throat. "You know what makes it even better?" She let her eyes travel his body in clear appreciation. "The context."

At that, Matt smiled with a little more confidence.

Her fingers traced down his chest then back up to his chin. Pressing at it, she urged him a little closer to her. "Now, my only question is whether you can do that again? Because you got me all wet."

His responded in haste in a manner that left no doubt in her mind. Pulling her body tightly against his he kissed her deeply, his hands pressing against her back as he pulled her onto his lap. Matt sucked on her bottom lip as he unzipped her suit. His hands were warm and gentle, and his touches slow and determined, a combination that kindled the spark of fire in her belly into a raging blaze that threated to consume her. By the time he finally undressed her entirely, she felt like she was on the edge of coming apart.

Matt was figuring her out. Most of the time she did not think about it and just enjoyed how their time together unfolded between them. Though when she thought about that fact that another person was getting to know her and her secrets, when she realized that he cared enough to pick up on the motes of her personality, the shreds that made her come apart; it often terrified her and made her head spin.

Strangely, this was not one of those times. Instead, Remy allowed herself to remain oblivious to the whispers in the back of her mind and instead concentrated on her lover and his strikingly blue eyes. When he entered her, a tiny electric shock seemed to radiate through her body, and he smiled as she sighed against his mouth.

Arms tight around her, he kept her close, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her jaw, and her lips as they moved at a deliberately slow pace. His measured stroke just seemed to draw it out into an exquisite brand of torture Remy savored. This time, she was the one who came in record time, and more than once as Matt let go of his focus of trying to outlast her for once. This time he just savored her, cradled her body tight against his, and took a hint of pride in every sound he wrenched free from her throat.

Spent, they held one another close, faces buried in each other’s necks. They breathed heavily recovering in one another’s embrace, without losing even an inch of contact. Remy pressed a gentle kiss against his neck.

“If I can sneak into a show like this, I’m definitely going to have to over estimate how long I’ll be gone more often,” she chuckled against his neck.

Matt laughed as well, squeezing his arms around her. “How about you just give me ten minutes warning and I’ll start without you?”

Remy leaned away enough to look him in the eyes. She brushed his hair away from his forehead, and kissed his chin. “Or not.”

Matt grinned at her. “Not sure I could keep my hands off you though.”

“Who said you’d have to?”

He pulled her lips back to hers with a hum. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Indeed,” Remy agreed, her imagination already running away with her. She shifted against him with a hint of need.

“I think you’re over estimating my refractory recovery.”

“I thought guys your age were always ready for anything.”

“We are,” he teased, grabbing her ass and squeezing, “but in this case, biology says no. Besides, you came twice.”

“So did you.” Remy kissed him deeply, perfectly content right where she was.

#Saints Row Fanfiction #Free To Be #Matt Miller #Remy McGinnis #Badger Scribbles

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astro-stark · 5 years

Text

Puppy

A/N: I can’t write to save my life. This is my first so bear with me, folks. A 2nd part (possibly) coming soon.

Warning: Humor, Possibly out of character

Word Count: 1600+

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Reader has an adorable nickname for everyone on the team. Well, almost everyone.

Everyone is sitting together at the kitchen, eating breakfast and enjoying each other’s company. Whether it’s either Bucky and Sam bickering over who did better on their previous mission or Tony bragging about his new project to Bruce. Steve personally loved these mornings. Especially if it means he could spend more time with the girl he’s been pining for awhile.

His blue eyes left the sports section of the newspaper to peek over at you. Watching as your hips swayed to whatever tune that was playing in your head. Yet your eyes were focused on the stove, cooking breakfast for yourself. Watching you, like this, made his chest swell in adoration. His mouth lifted up slightly before resuming back to the morning paper.

“Can you pass the salt, Teddy Bear?”

“Sure thing, doll.” Wait.

Steve’s head quickly whipped up again. Just in time to see Bucky wandering right by your side with the salt shaker in hand.

His eyebrow raised in confusion.

Teddy Bear?

“Can I have some of that? Looks good.” Bucky commented while peeking over your shoulder.

Brows furrowed slightly, Steve slowly lowered the newspaper in his hands. Since when did you call his best friend, Teddy Bear? Since when was Bucky completely fine with it?! No one has ever really given him a nickname besides Steve. Sam has attempted to call him quite a few nicknames in the past. Of course, they weren’t as pleasant and Bucky had threatened to destroy his wings.

What if you were secretly together? Steve’s heart sank at the thought. Did he wait too long once again? His jaw slightly clenched listening as the two of you laughed together just a couple feet away.

‘You blew it, Steve.’ He mentally cursed himself.

Turns out, you guys weren’t a couple. Sam has confirmed that by laughing at his face. Thank god. However, Steve eventually took notice that Bucky wasn’t the only one with a nickname. Throughout the following week, he has noticed that you have called Wanda, Pumpkin before leaving for some much-needed lady’s night. He walked in on you and Clint training where you called him, Archie. You even called Thor, Bolt during one of Tony’s parties. Steve remember specifically how Thor adored the name. Constantly bragging about it to the guests around him.

Hell, even Tony has a nickname. He witnessed that when he spotted your figure in Tony’s lab. Practically scolding Tony for messing up one of your gadgets. Steve found out Tony’s nickname was Hermit.

Everyone had a nickname.

Everyone but Steve.

The super-soldier would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. Deep down, he was actually hurt that he wasn’t given a nickname. Especially from the girl he’s been secretly crushing on for so long. He can recall that all you ever call him is by his first name or ‘Cap’ while out on a mission together. But he wouldn’t count that as a nickname. Are they even close? Do you not like him? Maybe he’s too hard on you.

“Steve.”

Maybe you never really liked him.

“Steve-”

But what if-

“PUNK!”

Startled by the sudden voice yelling in his ear, his final swing sent the punching bag flying. Quickly whipping his head to see an amused Bucky, standing there just a foot away. “What’s gotten ya so irritated, pal?” Bucky said while looking over at the punching bag, watching the sand spill out onto the hard floor. Smacking his lips in a mocking disappointment. “Stark won’t be happy with you making a mess here.”

Steve rolled his eyes at his best friend. Walking right past him to grab another bag. “I’ll clean it up.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Bucky grumbled under his breath. “What is it? Bad mission?”

“No.”

“Ran out of art supplies?”

The blonde couldn’t help but scoff while heading back to where he was with a punching bag over his shoulder. “No.”

“Is it about that conversation earlier about that ‘America’s ass’ of yours?”

“No-”

“Did Sam trip you during your morning ru-”

“I DON’T HAVE A NICKNAME!” Bucky froze, eyebrows shot up to his hairline by Steve’s sudden outburst. Yet the blonde continued on his little rant right before Bucky could even open his mouth. The newly unused punching bag now left on the floor, completely forgotten. “I mean I just don’t think it’s fair! Everyone has a nickname from her! How come I don’t have one?!” Steve was pacing back and forth, arms all over the place to prove his point. Bucky remained in the same spot. Slowly processing all the information during his best friend’s rant. “Am I just that unlikeable?-Or boring even to not get a nickname from the girl I would kill to go on a date with?”

Steve finally confessed his feelings right in front of him. Bucky’s face soon broke into a shit-eating grin. His eyes held a certain mischievous glint. Steve immediately froze, his eyes darting over to the grinning super soldier. Body tense and face slowly turning a shade of red once he realized he confessed something he shouldn’t.

With Bucky’s grin, Steve knows all too well what he’s scheming. He’s not stupid.

“Bucky. No.”

Yet the brunette’s grin widened just a bit more before taking a step back. One step closer to the exit of the gym.

“Bucky. Yes.” Taking another step back, Steve quickly took a few steps towards him. Watching his every little move. Ready to stop him from possibly ruining his chance with the girl or better yet- ruining his life from utter embarrassment.

“You’re better than this, Buck.”

“Am I?”

Steve scoffed at him.“You and I both know this isn’t gonna go well for the both of us if you run out that door.”

Bucky’s brows raised up slightly at his words, yet his smirk never broke. “Is that a threat?”

The room soon grew silent. Both men staring each other down intensely. Eyes filled with determination for different reasons.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Sam’s voice erupted throughout the gym, startling the two. Both breaking their stare down to look over at Sam. Yet he wasn’t alone. Both sets of blue eyes locked on you as you stood right beside Sam. A brow arched in curiosity at the two super-soldiers.

Oh crap.

Bucky glanced back at him with a knowing smirk. Steve immediately paled.

“Hey, dol-” Before any more words could even come out of his mouth, he was immediately tackled down. Knocking the wind right out of him. A large hand covering his mouth. You and Sam stood back, watching the two super soldiers wrestle on the floor. Both amused as muffled curses were thrown at one another followed by a couple of grunts.

Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder. Leading you away without another word. — A pained groan erupted through Steve has he practically fell, face first, on the couch. During the whole fiasco with keeping Bucky’s mouth shut earlier, the brown-haired has ‘accidentally’ elbowed him in the head with his metal arm with full force. As an apology, he threw a bag of frozen peas at him followed by a simple sentence of, ‘Ask her on a date already,’ before leaving him to wash up. Now here he is. Laid up on the couch, still in his work-out clothes with a bag of peas supporting his throbbing head.

“You alright?”

Steve nearly fell off the couch when he tried to sit up. The bag of peas falling onto his lap as he sees you standing behind the couch, smiling in amusement at his direction. He could already feel his face heat up slightly. “I..uhh-yeah. Just a long day.” He stuttered. Trying his best to ignore the way his heart slamming against his chest.

“Oh yeah?” Grinning. “Teddy Bear did a number on you?” You teased while he rolled his eyes. Ignoring the slight bitterness from Bucky’s nickname that casually just rolled off your tongue.

“It was an even match.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his small pout. “Oh is that right?” Leaning over the couch, you grabbed ahold of the bag of peas and place it on his head. A small smile forming on your face when his blue eyes lock on yours. His heart thumping at his chest. Bucky’s nagging voice suddenly echoing in his head. Telling him to ask her out.

Repeatedly

Constantly

Obnoxiously

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Steve’s eyes practically bulged out right out of his sockets from easily blurting that out. His face slowly turning a bright shade of red. His heart might as well fly right out of his chest from how hard it’s beating. Maybe he could undo this before receiving rejection.

Blame it on the head injury. Blame it on the head injury. Blame it on the head injury.

“I-I...uh..-I’m”

“I’d love to.”

His head snapped up. “Really?” Eyes practically lit up. The feeling of embarrassment slowly dying out of his body.

“How about we meet back here at….let say 7” You offered, placing the bag of peas in his hand. Using your free hand to fix a bit of his blonde hair that was flattened from the bag. Not missing the way his head leaned up slightly at her gentle touch.

“Sounds perfect.” He softly spoke.

A bright grin made its way to your face as you moved away from the couch. “Can’t wait for our date, puppy.” You practically skipped out of the room leaving the blonde dumbfounded. Soon grinning from ear to ear when he repeated your sentence in his head. Shaking his head slightly at the new ridiculous nickname he’s given.

Puppy.

He loves it.

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #mcu #marvel #avengers #avengers x reader #one shot #captain america fanfiction #captain america #captain america imagines #captain america x reader #steve rogers fluff

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phaedrecameron · 5 years

Text

House of Fraser Chpt 16 - The First Six Months

Lallybroch – The Holidays

“Fergus, trobhad!”

Jamie fastened the buttons of his quilted Barbour jacket as he kneeled and clasped a leash to the dog’s collar. Slamming the door of his Da’s ancient Rover, he looked up the small path leading to the stones at Craigh na Dun. Fergus whined as he sat near his owner’s leg. Jamie scratched his ear, “it’s okay, boy. I’ve finally lost my mind.” Fergus didn’t appreciate the joke.

Jamie did, in fact, feel ridiculous. Roaming around ancient stones in search of their connection to Claire? He chuckled to himself thinking of her face when he shared the story of The Woman from Balnain. She was very respectful, listened carefully, but plainly thought it a fairytale – an eccentricity she was willing to accept to be with him. He prayed that’s all it was, but Frank was no fairytale.

He led Fergus slowly around the stones. Nothing unusual, nothing like what he experienced, or perhaps imagined, on Leòdhas. Suddenly, Fergus jerked away. Jamie followed his gaze to a large stone with a cleft. He moved toward the stone, but Fergus wouldn’t come. Jamie slackened the leash and touched the stone. A sudden vibration.

“Christ!”

Fergus growled and barked, ready to defend them both.

Jamie realized it was the mobile in his pocket. He laughed at his foolishness, but his heart was still pounding when he checked the screen.

STUBBORN SASSENACH Didyou make it ok?

Jamie began to type a quick reply.

“A mhac!”

Jamie looked up to see Brian Fraser cresting the hill. He released the leash to allow Fergus to run to his father.

“Da, what are ye doing out here in the cold? Come, Mam will kill us both.”

“Oh, I wanted to see how yer research was goin’?” Brian patted Fergus’ head. “Any inspiration?”

“What? Och, no much. Let’s go.” Jamie led his father to the vehicles. “Da?”

Brian’s dark features trained on his son, “Aye?”

“Nothin’. Glad to see ye is all.”

London – Winter Date Day

“What was your favorite part?” Claire asked around a large bite of churro.

“The King lookin’ like a pompous jackass.” Jamie pulled her close and licked the cinnamon-sugar from her lips. “Lafayette was good too and of course Hamilton was a Scot.”

Claire smiled to herself as they walked through London’s West End. She wasn’t sure Alexander Hamilton was rightly identified as a Scot, but she knew better than to get between Jamie and the love of his country and its people.

“Thanks for skipping work to come to a matinee,” she grinned and grabbed his hand. “Tea?”

Since his return from Scotland, they’d been on four dates. On all four occasions their plans were modified because they ended up having sex before they could get out the door. Her physical need of him was only outpaced by his growing stranglehold on her heart. When she spoke, he listened. He wasn’t thinking about how to refute what she’d just said or what he planned to say next; he just listened. That simple act completely disarmed her.

But today, on their fifth date, Claire was determined to keep to their original plan. She made Jamie meet her at the theater - they could have sex after.

“Are ye sure we have time for tea? Ye said ye wanted to be at the hospital by 5am tomorrow?”

“Well, yes…”

“Because I plan to make ye quiver and scream my name at least twice.” He casually checked the time on his mobile. “And ye struggle to rise even after a full night of sleep, so…?”

Jamie’s Flat -Burns Night

Bloody hell!

Fergus whined in sympathy as he watched Claire stare helplessly in the large saucepan on the stove; pieces of exploded haggis floating to the surface.

She heard Jamie’s key in the door. Shit! Shit! Shit!

Fergus leapt to greet Jamie and provide Claire a minute to compose herself.

“Claire? What are ye….” His dining room table was draped in Grant colors; flowers, candles, and a bottle of whisky in the center.

He found her fashed in his kitchen. She was wearing a tartan skirt in MacDonald colors and a Cameron patterned head band.

“Happy Burns Night,” she blurted as she nervously blocked his view of the stove.

Every time Jamie thought it impossible to love her more, his heart simply grew more chambers for her to fill. He glanced over her shoulder at the ruined haggis, then gathered her in his arms. “Happy Burns Night to ye.” He brushed ground oatmeal from her cheek. “Dinna worry over the food,” he touched her headband, “yer an ignorant sassenach, ye need training is all.”

She smiled, “I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise…”

He silenced her with a kiss. “‘Tis perfect, truly. Come, let’s have a dram.”

“I really must love you to drink that battery acid.”

Jamie felt a pain in his chest – another chamber added.

She wound her hands around his neck, “I love you, Jamie.”

Hospital Lounge - Valentine’s Day

“Is that…it canna be?” Geillis asked in wonder.

Claire brushed the powdered sugar from her chest and held up a pair of scrubs.

“The man sends ye flowers, donuts and designer scrubs?!”

Claire smiled as her fingers traced the soft tartan lining. She grabbed the note, Geillis looking over her shoulder.

Sassenach,

To keep you warm when I’m not with you & to help with your training – these are Fraser colors!

Happy Valentine’s Day

Jamie’s Flat -Milan Fashion Week

“Yer sure it’s alright? Marsali or my sister..”

“It’s fine,” Claire pushed him toward the door, “you know I love Fergus. Hurry, you’ll miss your flight.”

“Okay, I’ll call ye when I land.” Jamie pulled her in for a kiss, “once more?”

“James Fraser, I will not be responsible for you missing your own show. Go!”

“I’ll be quick.” His hands dropped to her arse.

She snorted and nipped his ear, “I’m not interested in quick. And here, don’t forget your sketchbook.”

“It’s for ye – the designs I’m showing.”

He’d never before let her see one of his sketchbooks. Claire tucked the book under arm. “I’ll miss you, Jamie. Come back to me.”

“Always.”

Once he left, she curled on his sofa and opened the book. She sniffed as she knuckled away tears. There were dozens of drawings - dresses, trousers, skirts – all in different colors and textures, but always her. She could see the mole on her back, or the smile that broke free when he called her sassenach, her hair in the wind, her crooked pinky finger. She fell asleep, Jamie’s book clutched to her chest, Fergus at her feet.

Jamie’s office - A Spring Day at HF

“Ssshhh.” Claire’s hand went to Jamie’s mouth. “Someone will hear you.” She ducked back under his desk and between his legs.

“Let em. They all know.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Up, up. I want ye from behind.”

Jamie helped her to stand in her stilettos and flipped her around.

“What do you mean, ‘they all know’?” Claire asked over her shoulder as he kneaded her bottom.

She felt him chuckle against her back as he pushed her thighs further apart.

“Sassenach, ye show up here in nothing but yer wee trench coat, stilettos, and the look of determination on yer face. They all know what yer about.”

“Wot?!” She turned around, eyes to her hairline.

“Come now,” he kissed her nose, “ye know that’s why ye do it – so everyone knows I belong to ye.” He flipped her around once more. “And I dinna mean for ye to waste yer time doing so.”

She groaned loudly as he thrust home.

“Claire.” Marsali and John said in unison as Claire emerged from Jamie’s office.

Claire pulled the knot tighter on her trench, nodded in response, and causally walked toward the exit.

A few moments later, Jamie appeared. Marsali laughed, rolled her eyes and walked to the back row of computers. John handed Jamie a tablet of new designs, “so does Claire have a brother?”

Speyside Whisky Festival, Scotland – Jamie’s birthday

“We could go to the Seeldh?” Claire pointed to the brochure as Jamie pulled the hired Rover up to their B&B.

“Ceilidh, lass. And that we could.”

She leaned over and kissed him, “ceilidh, huh? Well, you choose – your birthday, my treat.”

*** Jamie smiled as Claire pretended to drink her dram. She was so stubborn. He tried to dissuade her from gifting him a whisky festival for his birthday, but she insisted she would grow to appreciate the drink. Jamie decided to hedge his bets and secreted three bottles of wine in his suitcase.

“I need the loo,” Claire whispered in Jamie’s ear. “Do you want the rest of this?”

“Aye.” Jamie took her dram and watched her arse as she disappeared into the crowd. ***

“Is that yer match? The tall ginger lad?”

Claire turned while washing her hands. A small, mousey brown haired woman stood at her side.

“I suppose he is.”

“Och, dinna worry. I’m no tryin to take yer man, it’s quite clear that would be impossible. I’ve just never seen a matched pair from the same side. Rare.”

Claire took a step back.

The woman’s grey eyes moved to the silver strands at Claire’s temple, “‘tis okay, my cousins are travelers also. Do ye dream of going? Where is your other?”

“If you’ll excuse me.” Claire brushed past the woman.

“Sassenach, what’s wrong?” Her skin was cold, her whisky eyes gone drab.

“Too many Scots,” she laughed weakly. “Do you mind if we leave?”

Lallybroch- Summer

Claire’s grip tightened on the strap of her crossbody as she stared out the windshield. Today was the day she was to meet Jamie’s parents at his childhood home. She tried to focus on Jamie’s words, but all she could hear was the thrum of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Claire? Come, ‘tis just my parents. They’ll love ye as I do.”

“But what if…I…Jamie I don’t have a family! What if I do it wrong?”

Jamie reached over to fix the wide collar of her jumper. “They’re easy, ‘tis my sister ye’ll have to prepare for.” He tried to wink and unclipped her seatbelt.

Claire grabbed his hand and followed him up the gravel walkway. Her pace slowed as she took in the enormity of Lallybroch. “You grew up here? Can we see the tower?”

“I’ll show ye round the grounds after. The weather’s nice. I’d like to see yer bare skin against the heather.”

“That’s not what I want to see!” She began poking him on the side. “You can set your bare arse on some sticky plant.”

“Jamie!” Brian Fraser waved from the doorway.

Claire would be damned if she’d cower behind Jamie. She straightened her shoulders and walked directly toward Jamie’s father. “Hullo Mr. Fraser, it’s so lovely to meet you. Please, call me Claire.” She felt Jamie’s hand on her lower back.

“Likewise, lass. And it’s Brian.”

His handshake was firm and his voice was warm honey, just like Jamie’s. She stood still as he looked her over. He glanced to Jamie and a broad smile transformed his face. In that moment, they could have been brothers. Brian engulfed Claire in a bear hug.

“I’m so very glad yer here Claire. We wondered when…”

“Da! Dinna smother her.” Jamie chuckled.

Brian released Claire. “Sorry, sorry. Come inside.” He turned and went inside.

Jamie touched Claire’s arm. “Are ye alright? Dinna know what’s gotten in to him.”

She brushed a curl behind her ear, a slight blush on her cheeks. “It’s okay, haven’t you brought home a lass before?” She teased.

His eyes narrowed, “no, yer the first.”

Pleased, she wrapped her arm around his and pulled him inside. They were met by Ellen in the large open living room area.

“Hello, dear. We’ve been waiting for Jamie to bring ye around.”

Claire stared. The resemblance was unmistakable. She was as beautiful as Jamie was handsome. Tall and regal, she reached out and touched the swatch of silver at Claire’s temple. “Ye’ve a long time still.” Claire remained silent. “Yer eyes are remarkable..’tis almost a shame yer bairns will have Jamie’s color.”

“Christ! Mam!” Jamie nervously laughed and tried to pull Claire away from his mother.

Claire wouldn’t budge.

“It’s okay.” Claire reached out and grabbed Ellen’s hands. She was jolted by cold than warmth.

Jamie watched in confusion as the two women seemed to silently communicate.

Brian brought a hand to Jamie’s shoulder, “come son, I’ve somethin ye need to see.”

Jamie hesitated.

“Dinna worry, yer Mam will look after Claire.”

With a backward glance, Jamie followed his father to the attic. He hadn’t stepped foot in the attic since he was wee.

“Give me a hand, will ye? Brian was struggling with a large chest.

Jamie rushed over to help his father pull the chest into the light.

“Da, what…”

“Do ye love Claire?”

Jamie looked toward the attic stairway. “Aye.”

“Ye want to marry her?”

“Da, I’m grown. Whatever talk ye’ve been preparin’..”

“Ken everythin’ do ye?” Brian smiled and opened the chest. He pulled out a plaid, “here, do ye recognize it?”

Jamie ran the well worn plaid across his hands. MacKenzie colors. It was nearly threadbare and the ends were frayed. He moved it closer to his face. There was something odd about its smell and the color was muted, but not from age, it was as though it had been improperly dyed.

“When yer Mam was pregnant, she would wrap herself in that plaid and sing to ye. When you were born, ye wouldna sleep unless that plaid was around ye or in yer crib.”

“I dinna remember.” Jamie sat down the plaid as Brian handed Jamie a thick woolen skirt. It too was unusual. He checked the seams- it wasn’t commercially made.

“Yer Mam loved to show ye that. I thinks it’s why ye took to clothes.”

“Da?”

Brian placed a women’s corset in his son’s hands. “What do ye see lad?”

Jamie eyes dropped to the garment. It was an accurate representation of stays used by mid 18th century Scottish women of high birth. There were no zippers or metal clasps. Jamie ran his finger along an edge of frayed material. He felt a sharp pain as the whale bone nicked his finger.

Jamie bunched the corset in his hands, denying the truth of it.

“Da, what is this? Where did ye..”

“They’re yer mother’s. She was wearing them when I found her; when she came through the stones.

#House of Fraser #thekingparrot #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #its been 84 years

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blackleatherjacketz · 5 years

Text

My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 4

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price.

Warnings: Orange, Mentions of Sex, Blood, Danger, The Walk of Shame, Medical Stuff, Comfort

Featuring: Alden, Doctor Emmett Carson

Word Count: 1639

Read the rest of the story HERE!

A hazy phase of sleep blanketed you like the comforter slung over your shoulders, blocking your inhibitions as you let your limbs discover every inch of your bedfellow. Your fingers sifted through the hair on his chest, accepting your blissful surroundings as one often does in a dream before quickly realizing that something is off. The sandman’s effects slowly began to wear off, Negan’s warmth drawing your arms and legs around him like an octopus strangling its prey.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept in a bed this big, this soft, this… occupied. Your eyes fluttered open, the image of the man next to you beginning to match the sensation of skin beneath your palms. He was real, his dark and dangerous features coming to life as his gravelly voice vibrated in his chest. He wasn’t a dream, after all.

“Mornin’ baby.” His voice broke the silence as he turned on his side, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs.

“Morning,” you repeated, melting into him with your legs around his hips.

His natural magnetism pulled you in, making you writhe against him as your folds became slick with arousal. You wanted to feel him inside of you once more, to push and pull your muscles past their breaking point no matter how badly it hurt. That pain was only matched by the intensity of his pleasure; a fire that reminded you what it once felt like to be alive.

“Is that a shower I see?” You nodded toward the door off the side of the bed, hoping for an extra morning romp before you headed off to work.

“You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” He smiled and bit his lip, tilting his head in amusement as he processed your words.

Bold? What was so bold about asking for a shower after everything you two did together? After licking, biting and sucking each other’s orifices until your mouths ran dry?

“I only shower with my wives, and you made it pretty damn clear you didn’t want that title.” He paused and traced a line down your stomach, tickling the fine hair below your navel as he inched toward your heat.

“I just thought you’d want me clean for the next time we…”

“No.” His fingers slid inside of you, stealing your breath as he leaned in close. “You’re gonna go to work today smelling like me, tasting me in your mouth while I drip out of that tight little pussy and run down your leg.” He smirked. “You’re going to be even more soaked than you are right now, and I’ll be there after dinner to lick it all back up.”

He curled his fingers up inside you while his thumb made circular movements on your clit, forcing you to exhale. “You better get back to work. I’m sure the good doctor is wondering where you are.”

—————————

There was no time to run back to your quarters, to change your clothes or get something to eat before you made your way over to the infirmary. Your thighs throbbed as you took the stairs down to your work station, the bruises he’d sucked into your flesh twinging with each step. You’d regretted letting him bend you into all those positions, your calves and biceps crying out in just as much pain as the rest of your body.

“Where have you been?!” Doctor Carson asked in a scolding tone. “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning, you practically missed half the day!” His eyes were wide with surprise; this wasn’t like you.

“I know, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise!” You scrambled to get into your white coat, pulling your hair back so it wouldn’t get caught in the collar before he stopped you.

“So it’s true,” he whispered, carefully palpating your neck. “You were with him.” His words were heavy despite their airy nature, weighing down on you like anvils on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how late it was,” you stammered, fixing a few stray strands of hair. You let him examine your face and neck while you finished putting on your coat, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Don’t be sorry.” He flashed a light in your eyes, bringing his torch down to the bruises on your neck. “Did he hurt you? Do you have more of these bruises?”

“No.” You bit your lip, half telling the truth. “No, it wasn’t like that.” You briefly thought about explaining your experience to Doctor Carson before he spoke again.

“How long until you leave, then?” He clicked the flashlight off and put it back in his pocket. “Do you think you’ll have time to train someone else before you go?”

“Emmet,” you stopped him, “I’m not leaving.” You awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, remembering that therapeutic touch was a key driver in trustworthy communication.

He smiled slowly, a melancholic look gracing his features as he clasped his hand over yours. “You think you have any say in it?”

“I told him…” you started.

“You told him?” He cut you off, his barely visible eyebrows disappearing into his nonexistent hairline. “People don’t tell Negan things; people do what they’re told.” His tone switched from judgmental to concerned as he kept his eyes on you.

“Look, I know it’s not what I expected, but…”

“Hey guys.” A new voice made you let go of each other and look at the doorway. “Sorry to bother you, but uh, could one of you stitch me up?”

Alden lifted his hands to display a bloody rag pressed into a wound on the back of his forearm. He squeezed it tightly as bright red blood began to soak through the plaid pattern that was ripped off the bottom of his shirt. He looked nervous, but not pale, sweaty or scared; he must not have been bitten.

“Y… yes, Alden, come here.” Doctor Carson immediately forgot about your situation and escorted Alden to the exam table as you rummaged through the cabinets for a bottle of saline and a suture kit. “Were you bitten?” He went over to the sink and began to wash his hands, nodding for you to place the supplies on the bedside table.

“No walkers today, Doc. Just a slip of the axe,” Alden chided, slowly pulling the cloth off his wound. “He didn’t mean it, it just slipped.” He winced as he took the flannel rag off his arm, ripping fragments of blood and skin with it as he dropped it into the trash can.

“Who did this?” Doctor Carson dried his hands and put on a fresh pair of gloves.

“Like I said, Doc, it was just an accident.” He glanced up at you with almond brown eyes as you took your turn washing your hands at the sink. “Gary didn’t mean it.”

You turned off the water and dried your hands. Gary? Your dad, Gary? You put on a pair of gloves and twisted the cap off the bottle of saline, trying to block the emotions from your sterile procedure. Your dad did this? To Alden?

“This is going to sting a little,” you warned him, washing his cut with a stream of normal saline. You were preparing yourself as much as you were him, reluctant to hear the rest of the story. “Doesn’t look that deep, Alden, we’ll get you back to work in no time.”

Alden groaned as the fluid washed away fragments of blood and cloth, making a fist with his hand as he sucked in his breath. He winced and forced a smile as Doctor Carson began his line of sutures. “Your dad’s not himself today, he’s a little… distracted, and I can see why.” He pointed to your neck before closing his eyes and biting his knuckle.

“Is he okay?” You took Alden’s hand to hold his arm steady so your mentor could stitch in a straight line. “Did he say anything?”

“He’s okay, and he’s as good as any man would be who just lost his wife and kids.” He kept his eyes shut tight as the needle pierced his skin, pulling the thread through his wound. “And his favorite daughter to his boss.”

“Favorite daughter?” You furrowed your brow at the term. “Did he make any other mistakes?” You squeezed his hand as Doctor Carson tied off his final stitch. “Anything noticeable to get him in trouble? Did he piss anyone off today?”

You knew your dad had a temper that often got him in trouble before you landed at the Sanctuary. A few bashed in heads cut that personality trait short, and he seemed to fit in well with Negan and the rest of the Saviors. You knew that losing half his family in a single day might make him forget about those immediate consequences, and earn him an appointment with the iron, after all.

“No. Gary’s just distracted is all. I told him not to worry about it, that you’d stitch me up and everything would be fine.” He opened his eyes as Doctor Carson started wrapping gauze around his cut. “He’s a good man, and he’s always looked out for me.” He paused and smiled at you, his honest face granting you temporary peace of mind. “The least I can do is look out for him.”

“Alden,” you whispered, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Thank you.”

“Thank you!” He lifted his freshly-wrapped arm into the air and acknowledged Doctor Carson.

Hopping off the exam table, he whispered in your ear. “And hey, you and I both know Negan has a way of making us do things we wouldn’t normally do.” He smirked and nodded at the doctor before walking out of the infirmary.

“Yeah.” You rubbed your neck, flashing back to last night. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

---------------------------

Tags: @annablack1102 @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @negansdirtygirl22 @collette04 @negans-network @mblaqgi @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @becs-bunker @chloejanedecker1 @irrelevantwriter

#negan #negan's thirst squad #negan x reader #negan fan fiction #negan imagine #alden #alden the walking dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #callan mcauliffe #the walking dead #the walking dead fan fiction #twd negan #twd #twd fanfic

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cnc-hoebayb · 5 years

Text

We could start off every day with sex n super smash bros

*Smut warning!!

Erick sinnn omg guys im so nervous

Also this isn’t gonna be superrrr explicit like my others just bc this is new territory and a lil different still...

But here it goes, lmk your feedback pls 🙃

“Ew don’t touch meee” Erick whines as you roll over, playfully nudging him with your toes. His eyes are scrunched shut tightly, trying desperately to ignore you. “Pero es la mañanaaaaa,” you fight with him as he pulls the sheets over him and drowns you out with a pillow over his ears.

You can’t seem to find a hole in his little barrier, so you give up with a huff, slumping back onto your pillow. It was your one day off. A day for you to sleep in and relax, but of course you would end up fully energized at 7 am. Erick was no help either, that kid would be asleep for another 3 hours max and there was no way to stop him.

The phone on your bedside table buzzed and maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to just browse social media for a couple hours. Or so you thought...

You click the little Instagram icon and it immediately shuts down. Click again, same thing. You go back and forth between apps, disappointed as each one loads with an error- no connection. “Dammit,” you whisper and notice the icon on the top left of your screen disappeared, WiFi shut down.

The laziness in you kicks up and overpowers the effort to fix it. You look over to Erick, still buried in blankets and sleeping soundly. So trying not to wake him, you remove yourself from the bed slowly, inching your way out as quietly as possible. Feet hit the cold tile beneath you and you bolt over to your closet. Moving a few old jackets and shoes, you find a big box and slide it out next to your tv.

You remove the contents quietly again, making sure to check on Erick every time a sudden noise was made. Tangled chords get plugged into multiple ports and outlets, your desperate attempt to find some entertainment for time being. Once it was all set up, you place the console on the tv stand excitedly, digging through the box one more time for exactly what you were looking for. You insert the game and hop back in bed carefully, controller in hand.

Once you got situated in a comfy spot on the bed, a good distance away from Erick to give him room, you clicked the switch for the tv. The room immediately filled with the blaring music from the theme opening. You scramble for the remote rapidly and smash the button until it was silent. It didn’t work, however, since Erick was already up and facing towards you.

His hair was messy, sleep still in his heavy eyes and with a little baby frown. “Que estas jugando??” He questioned and looked at the screen so obviously plastered with the logo. You shrivel up a little in place, trying to look unknowing but also cute enough to get away with it. “Super smash bros......”

You fail to hold back a playful smile and cover your face with the controller. “Without meee!?” He argues and pushes you away from him. You point at him with the controller in hand, “Erick- estabas durmiendo, déjame en paz im bored.” His pout becomes a little softer, but he sits still with his arms crossed.

Some time passes of him being silent, you watch and wonder what’s running through those sleepy thoughts of his. He lets out a defeated sigh, rubbing his eyes before holding his hand out to you. “A controller,” he starts and yawns in between, “dame.” You hand him the one you were holding and grab the other off the nightstand. He adjust his eyes to the screen and gives you a nod to start it. “Ready to lose?” He jokes, and you lean in.

“Can i have a good luck kiss at least...?” You rest your head on his shoulder and bat your lashes up at him. He perks up quickly, catching himself just as fast, trying to play it cool. “Yea ye, i guess i could share some of my super smash bros skills with you this way.” He turns his head to press a soft kiss on your lips. You take it in while it lasts and run your tongue across your lips right after. Erick goes on and turns his attention back to the tv, ready to play.

But you look up at him and that messy hair, that light cover of stubble layering his chin, his perfect pink lips- and maybe there’s another game you wanna play now.

“Erick,” you say and he responds with a quick “que”, choosing through a long list of characters and not looking back at you. You roll your eyes and say it again, but this time while tugging at his shirt “Eriiickk.” He sets the controller down and turns toward you “queeee??”

You hold him by his jaw and slam your mouth to his, his eyes going wide with surprise. He pulls back a little, not quite sure what to do. You take the controller from him and toss it off the bed, yours following shortly after. His confused look changes up as you assure him of what you want, locking your arms around his neck, laying back and pulling him down on top of you.

“Whoa whoa,” he lets out as he falls over you and begin kissing and nipping at his ear. The tv played on in the back, background game music that sounded ridiculous in this situation. You smile against his skin and he giggles. “Ahora que” he laughs, now starting to kiss all over your neck and face. “La música, it’s funny,” you reply and he stops to listen.

“Guess we just gotta drown it out,” he says and sucks a mark onto your collarbone. Now there’s the gross teenager in him. You fall into his embrace, letting him droop over you lazily as kisses become more sloppy. The heat in your body increases as he takes the initiative to grab your thigh and lift it for him to settle in between.

“Por que eres tan bella en la mañana?..” he mumbles against your ear and it makes your heart flutter a little. His lips slide against your skin in all the right places, knowing exactly where to hit you for these types of moments.

A good amount of time goes by before you’re both ready for the next level. With as great of a kisser he was, you could get caught up in those lips all day. There would be no problem with that on either side too, because Erick definetly felt the same way. But what was happening now was sudden and pure need- a desire that wanted to be addressed immediately. And honestly, mornings like this was one of the times where he was at his hottest to you. So this would be fun.

The now so obvious bulge in his sweatpants grinded between your legs, making you gasp with all the thoughts that started to build in your head. Knowing he never liked to initiate, you part from his lips and squeeze his biceps with intention. “Erick,” you stop mid sentence and he bites his swollen lips while looking right into your eyes. “Grab a condom, I’m ready.” And with the speed of light, he rolls off of you to dig through the bedside drawer, pouncing back over you as he shows off the tiny little package.

You giggle at the goofy excited face he makes and he tears the corner of the wrapping with his teeth. He leans down to kiss you deeply one more time, letting you help pull his remaining clothing off before doing the same with yourself.

His nose rests against yours, pretty little lips hanging open as he slides the condom on, your own hands making their way down to assist. He exhales sharply and interlocks his fingers in yours. “Lista, bebe?” Its quiet and intimate, opposing slightly his normal character. I mean, he was always sweet, but it surprised you to see another side to his sweetness, however many times you’ve seen it before.

“Lista,” your hands massage the back of his neck, right where his hairline starts to fade. He’s slow, gentle, almost to the point where it’s too hard to wait for more. But he was careful with you, and that was always the most important thing.

He bottoms out fast, collapsing over you with a deep breath. “Don’t start losing on me now,” you joke and it helps relieve the tension of the moment, his confidence boosting up again. You guide him with a pace, something you can both handle and work out together, rolling your hips up into his.

His soft groans were actually more like whimpers, never afraid to overcompensate and be too dramatically vocal, he was as natural and amateur as any other boy your guys’ age. You clench onto his arms, arching up at his constant thrusts. The veins in his neck flex slightly and he’s never looked so focused in his life.

Your loud whines match the volume of the still playing video game and the squeaks of the bed frame. Sheets bundled at your feet as he pushes your bodies higher up on the bed, getting that perfect leverage to finish you out. “WhoA-“ you accidentally mutter, the sensation simply emitting your first thought out suddenly, and in a totallyyy not sexy manner.

He smiles wide and it’s almost like he wasn’t literally inside of you right now, because before you know it you’re both giggling at your little slip. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep it together and not break out into a full on laughing fit- Erick above you doing the same. “I couldn’t stop, it just came out,” you justify and cover your face with your hands, all previous movement now at a hold.

“You’re a nerd,” he teases and starts to poke at your hands while pinching and tickling around your face, trying to get you to reveal yourself again. You squeal when he blows a raspberry on your neck, making you wiggle and finally push him away. The both of your laughter fills the air and the mood is so much lighter than before.

You push his hair back and snap back to what was happening before your guys’ fit of laughter. His cheeks are flushed with color and you bring him into a kiss. “I ruined the mood didn’t i?” You smile nervously and he continues to pepper your face with kisses. “No, you made it better” his tongue sweeps along the roof of your mouth with skill and you moan in response.

The rest is frantic- hands pushing and pulling at open skin, hips pounding against one another, muffled noises as teeth bite into soft flesh in pleasure. He mutters a string of broken English, bucking into you roughly. His body spasms and you chase your release shortly after, burying your face into his warm neck.

Your fingers clench into his skin as you come undone, feeling lost in his touch and body. You both start to slow down until he finally rolls from on top of you, plopping onto his pillow. He lays there and it looks like he’s trying to reload back into normal Erick mode.

“You’re weird,” you cuddle up to him to lay your head on his sweaty chest. And like all he needed was the sound of your voice, he turns his head to you and shows off those perfect teeth. “Youre weirder,” he wraps you in his arms and starts to play with your now very tangled hair, “siempre me quieres así en la mañana.”

“You’re not complaining” you snap back and he agrees silently with a single look, fingers still locked in your silky strands. You squeeze him tightly to remind yourself how amazing he is and how lucky you are to have him to yourself. He groans as you squeeze tighter, almost pushing you away. “Oowww,” he squeezes you back to play along.

You release him and kiss his cheek one more time. “Okay can we go back to playing the game now?” Youre already reaching for your controller on the floor, pressing buttons to get it started. “Desnuda???” He almost screams, already halfway through putting his own underwear back on.

“Yea, it’ll distract you more,” you wink at him and press play. “My chance of winning is waaayy better now,”

#im sorry erick #mi bebito lindito #it had to be done i had to do it for me #cnco #cnco imagine #cnco smut #erick x reader #erick brian colon

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