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traekenimagines · 3 years

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Hunting Season, Part Twenty: A Theo Raeken Imagine

Request from Anon: For Hunting Season part twenty. Maybe some public sex and being caught? And Theo sees it but continues. + lots of dirty talk. Ps: I love all your works, and I'm loving Hunting Season

Request from Anon: hi! for hunting season part 20 the reader begging and orgasm denial. love your work, you are so so talented

Request from Anon: heyy this is for hunting season part 20! could have daddy kink, spanking, restraints, maybe he could catch her masturbating and punishes her for it or something? ooh and lots of dirty talk hehe. i know this imagine is gonna be soooo good, ur amazing xx

Request from Anon: For hunting season part 20 maybe theo uses a toy on the reader?

Request from Anon: hi! if you still need another kink for hunting season part 20, maybe a praise kink??

Request from Anon: hi!! can i request for humiliation in hunting season part 20!! xx

Request from Anon: heyy saw it was the last day for hunting season part 20, so excited! sorry if this is really unhelpful but the only other thing i could think of to suggest is that theo calls the reader a lot of names? like pet names i guess, but if it’s going to be filthy then maybe they can be a little more degrading 😅 sorry if this doesn’t help much! xx

So it’s finally here! For anyone who doesn’t know, in celebration of reaching Part Twenty, I asked for multiple requests to come up with a pretty filthy imagine, and you guys definitely helped out so thank you! Hope this is okay for you lovelies, and enjoy x

It was supposed to be a work dinner, nothing out of the ordinary. Meeting up with her colleagues at the end of the week, each bringing their respective partners, all of whom were behaving impeccably. Y/N’s, on the other hand, was not, and she squirmed under his touch as she felt his hand on her thigh.

Theo’s hand slid further up Y/N’s leg, under her dress, and she felt a wetness growing between her legs. She looked at him, at how he didn’t look at her, feigning interest in the conversation going on between her colleagues, using his other hand to sip from the glass of wine in front of him. That hand slid further up, and Y/N bit back a moan as he cupped her through her underwear, her heart beating rapidly.

She clutched the edge of the table as Theo pushed aside the material, swiping up her centre.

“Y/N, you okay?” One of her colleagues looked at her, no doubt seeing the tension in her face.

“Yeah, baby, is something wrong?” Theo looked at her now, pushing his finger inside of her as he spoke. Y/N glared at him, knowing that if she opened her mouth, words would be swallowed by the sounds of her moans. A small smile graced Theo’s face as he continued to pump his finger in and out of her.

She was on the edge, and couldn’t speak as she felt her release build. Questions of concern were repeated by her colleagues as Theo continued to finger her, but they faded into the background, as Theo put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you not feeling well?”

Y/N shook her head, Theo’s finger still inside of her. She finally managed to speak through gritted teeth. “Must have been something I ate.”

“You know what, guys,” Theo turned to the group, “I think I’ll just take her home.” He slid his finger out of her and Y/N watched as he wiped her wetness on his jeans. She noted the smirk on his face as he did so, fully aware of his intentions. She stood, Theo’s arm around her shoulder. “Good night, guys.”

Theo intertwined his fingers with hers as they left the restaurant, Y/N still with the overwhelming need to release. “What the hell was that?” she whispered viciously into Theo’s ear. The chimera only smirked, leading her out of the door. He still didn’t answer as he took her around to the back of the restaurant, the alleyway providing the perfect setting for his intentions.

Y/N’s anger was replaced with excitement when he slammed her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head.

“I think you know perfectly well what that was.” His nose trailed up the column of her throat, and Y/N moaned as Theo pressed his crotch against hers. “Who the fuck do you think you are, in that fucking dress, with your legs so fucking bare? Your friends in there think you’re so fucking perfect, but I bet they’d have a field day if they knew how much of a fucking, filthy slut you are. If they knew how so fucking easy it is to make you squeal like that, so fucking easy to make you come. Is that what you want, Y/N? Do you want me to make you come?” He reached under her dress and pulled apart her panties, the material soaked through.

Y/N could feel her wetness dripping down her legs as she nodded fervently. Her hands flew to Theo’s jeans, unbuttoning them as fast as she could. God, she needed him, needed him inside of her, fucking her until she couldn’t walk. She pulled his cock out of his boxers, and Theo smirked. “How much do you want this?”

“So fucking much. I want your cock in me all the time. I want it here and I want it now.” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, jumping and wrapping her legs around Theo’s waist. “Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me.”

Y/N couldn’t breathe when Theo entered her, pushing her back against the wall of the alleyway. His movements were almost violent, his words obscene. “You’re such a good little slut, such a good fuck. You feel so fucking good around my cock, Y/N, so fucking good.” Y/N could only moan in response, feeling every inch of him inside of her, her head hitting the wall with every thrust.

“You know there are people watching us, Y/N.” Theo grabbed her chin, turning her head. Sure enough, down the end of the alley, a couple had stopped to look at the pair. Y/N imagined they were horrified, but she didn’t care. Not as Theo continued fucking her. “Watch them, Y/N. Watch them watch us fuck. I know you like people to know that you’re mine, that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.”

Y/N did as she was told, her inner walls clenching around Theo as she came. She placed her head on his shoulder as she did so, listening to his praise as his own movements became sloppy. His cock hardened inside of her, and when Y/N climbed off him, she trailed a finger through his release that was sliding down her leg. She put it in her mouth, licking the taste of him away. Theo smirked. “I think that’s enough for now.”

As he would find out when they got home, Y/N had other plans.

Theo was in the shower, and all she could think about was how naked he was in there, how his cock would be swinging between his legs when it should have been inside her. She was dressed in one of his shirts, nothing more, waiting for him in the hope that when he saw her he would want to fuck her again. But the thought of him in there made the waiting harder, and she couldn’t help it when her fingers wandered to her core.

Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she began to pleasure herself, imagining that Theo was on top of her, fucking her like only he could. Y/N’s eyes closed as she continued, his name escaping her lips. She didn’t hear the door open, eyes snapping open when Theo spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She looked up, saw him standing there in nothing but a towel, saw the stern look on his face and knew the route the evening was going to take. Tonight, Theo would control her every move, would take her in the ways he wanted to, would punish her for pleasuring herself.

“I- ”

“You were what?” Theo walked over to the bed. “You were fucking yourself when you know that I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that to you? I should have known you were disobedient. I tell you time and time again that the only person you’re allowed to come for is me, and that you shouldn’t do it for anyone else. But you will, and you do, because,” he grabbed the lapels of the shirt she was wearing, tearing it open and revealing her nakedness, “like I said before, you’re a fucking slut.”

Y/N’s core throbbed as Theo pulled the shirt the rest of the way off her, leaving her naked. “You’re a fucking slut and you need to be punished for breaking Daddy’s rules.” He removed the towel from his waist, and Y/N’s eyes fell to his cock. Theo followed her gaze.

“Beg me for it. Beg me to punish you, to fuck you with my cock.”

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me, punish me for being such a bad girl. Daddy I need your cock in me again. I always need it. I need you to come inside of me, all over me, wherever you want. Please Daddy.”

Theo grabbed her chin. “Oh I will, but first, we’re going to have some fun.” He let go. “Get up.”

Y/N was quick to do so, watching Theo as he laid back on the bed. She squirmed as he wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping at it until it stood upright. She knew what to do, had done it plenty of times, and when Theo nodded at her, she climbed on top of him, her head positioned above his cock, her ass – and her ever-growing arousal – hovering above his face.

She heard a drawer open, and caught a glimpse of an object that Theo pulled out from the bedside table. She knew what it was, and felt her core only throb in response before Theo spoke. “You want my cock so badly, why don’t you suck it?”

Y/N lowered her head, her mouth enveloping Theo’s cock. As she took it, she felt Theo’s hand on her ass, fingers slipping between her cheeks and absentmindedly playing with her core. “Such a wet, pretty little thing.” He hissed as Y/N worked at him. “I could do so many things with this, like this, for example.” Y/N’s moans were muffled around Theo’s cock as he pushed the dildo inside of her. “You wanted other things to fuck you, sweetheart, well now you’re getting them.”

With every bob of her head, Theo pushed the dildo inside of Y/N. She could feel her release building, only intensified by the sharp stings that hit her skin every so often as Theo spanked her. “You’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet. You looked so fucking good from this angle, sucking my cock while I hit you for being the slut you are.” He hissed again, and Y/N knew what was coming. “You’re making Daddy come, princess, with that filthy little mouth of yours.” Y/N swallowed everything that Theo shot up into her mouth, savouring the taste of him as she felt herself arrive at the edge of her orgasm.

“Daddy, I’m coming.” Theo removed the dildo, throwing it on the floor, before hitting her ass again.

“Don’t you dare fucking come, you hear me? You’re being punished, and you don’t get to come until I say. So you fucking hold it, or I won’t fuck you anymore. Now get off me, lie down, and spread your legs like a good girl.” Trying her best to hold it in, Y/N climbed off Theo, following his every instruction.

He walked over to where he had thrown his clothes, removing the belt from his jeans, and Y/N was doing everything she could not to come at the sight of his cock. She knew the drill, and said nothing as Theo walked back over to her, grabbing her wrists in one hand and using the belt to tie them together. “You’re doing so well, baby, holding it in for me. It almost makes me regret wanting to punish you. But this is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s what I want.”

“Well, let’s see just how long you can hold it.”

Y/N squirmed as Theo lowered his head between her legs, licking a stripe up her core before diving in. She felt his nose nudge against her folds as he mouthed at her, eating her as if he had been starved. His tongue was nothing more than a miracle, she decided, as he rolled her clit between it, his fingers leaving bruises as he held her legs apart. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t hold his head in place, so only spoke words of obscenity. “Fuck, Daddy, your tongue is so fucking good. I’m so fucking wet for you Daddy, please.” It was getting harder to hold it in, and Y/N was aware that it was obvious as Theo removed his mouth from her centre, his lips covered with her essence.

“You really want to fucking come, don’t you? That’s all you ever want to do, isn’t it?” Y/N nodded as Theo climbed on top of her, his cock positioned at her entrance. “Well, I think you’ve been punished enough. Maybe it’s time for me to finally fuck you. What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I’ll be good. I just want your cock inside of me, I just want to come on it, please.”

Theo slapped her core. “That’s enough begging, Y/N. Now keep quiet before I change my mind.”

Y/N fell apart when Theo entered her. He was violent in his thrusts, his forehead pressed against hers as he fucked her. She was in her ecstasy but he was too, telling her as much. “You feel so good on my cock, Y/N. You’re coming, aren’t you? I can feel it, I knew it wouldn’t be long. Go on then, sweetheart, come. Come all over me.”

It was all the permission Y/N needed. She screamed as she finally let go, as she pulsed around Theo’s cock. It seemed to last for an age, and she didn’t even register that Theo’s movements had lost their ferocity until he came inside of her, the product of their releases mingling inside of her.

When it was over, when Y/N felt tender, delicate, broken in the best way, Theo lost his sternness, and gently kissed her forehead. He slid out of her slowly, and instantly Y/N missed him.

But she knew it wouldn’t be for long.

It never was.

Hunting Season Masterlist

Masterlist

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken smut #theo raeken x reader #hunting season #hunting season part twenty #cody christian

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aenaxes · 3 years

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lo-fi

[crosshair & tbb x afab/f!reader] it's been a tough campaign, so you and crosshair decide that the boys in the field can listen in, as a treat.

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex, consensual exhibitionism/voyeurism, polyamory, improper use of comms, crosshair being snide

w/c: 3.9k

a/n: phone sex? broke. comm sex? woke. rip @ u when the rest of the boys get back to the ship :/ (ps: thank u for 130! big mwah)

“Area’s been cleared. No sign of any seppies here,” Hunter’s weary voice wakes you with a start, crackling over your comm as you lift your head off the familiar height of Crosshair’s shoulder. “We’ll set up camp and head back at first light.”

“Better use the ‘fresher when you get back; you’ll stink up the whole ship,” Crosshair drawls back from beside you and evades you with an easy grin as you sleepily jab at his side.

Mean, you mouth at him with a frown, and the sniper simply shrugs back.

“We’ll see you soon. Love you all, y/n over,” you say, leaning over into Crosshair’s comm.

You receive a slightly disoriented chorus of ‘love you, too’s and ‘love you, cyar’ika’s from the brothers in the field, all blended together over frequency static and the sheer exhaustion of four rotations trekking through the marshy Balnab underbrush. Luck on your side, as navigator, you had escaped the dreary fate of noxious swamp gas and heat rashes in the unlikely case that the boys might need a quick exit.

But luckier still, Crosshair had stayed behind with you, citing your very real lack of combat training as grounds to have at least one of the brothers stay behind and stand guard. After all, volunteer corps boot camps could only teach you so much. And donning that trademark grin that made you either want to kiss him senseless or smack him upside the head (depending on your mood), Crosshair had innocently claimed that if he couldn’t see through the gaseous atmosphere, how could he know where to aim, much less shoot?

(You use your karkin’ scope, shitwad, Echo had said with the sickliest smile possible, and even he couldn’t help but join in when you and the boys all erupted into uncontrollable laughter.)

Suffice to say, Crosshair had spent the last two days holed up in the Marauder with you, a couple games of gin rummy, and a few steep new favors owed to his brothers’ grumbling.

For all the cool circulating air and dehumidifier settings in the Marauder’s helm, with the viewport fogged by the greenish atmospheric haze and your only task to wait for either a distress or all-clear signal, the little card games had gotten predictable after the second day. You had been tempted, out of some combination of boredom and fantasy, to prompt a game of strip poker (though Crosshair’s various bits of armour would have given him the indubitable upper hand, even with his horrible poker face).

Tempted, not even tried. You were all too aware of the uneasy stress of the mission outside, that low-lying tension and anticipatory dread staving off any coy desire to take advantage of your time alone with Crosshair.

But now, with the all-clear signal loud and clear through the comms, there’s little holding your inhibitions back when Crosshair reaches up and ruffles your hair after you click off his comm. Regardless of how innocuous his touch may be, heat rushes to your cheeks as you lean into his palm.

“Needy,” Crosshair chuckles, quick to catch on to your preening under his hand.

“I’ve been so patient,” you exhale a grand sigh, your voice carrying the petulant playfulness that never fails to pull Crosshair into the chase. And based on the lopsided grin twisting over his lips, you’ve got him exactly where you want him. “Don’t tell me you aren’t feeling at least a little bit of the same.”

“You’re insatiable,” he snarks. But he’s already rising to his full stature and crowding you back against the nearest surface, his hands firm and insistent over your waist as the backs of your knees meet the cool holotable steel.

“Right,” you retort, lifting your chin and baring your neck to him when he dips his head low to kiss over your pulse. The first touch is always careful—it comes with the territory, sharpshooting, all calculated movements with little space for error—but Crosshair’s intentionality is no less desirous, mouthing over your skin as you feel one hand drag slow and heavy up from your waist to your neck. “I’m the needy one.”

“You’re the enabler,” Crosshair mumbles into your skin, and you can’t help the dreamy sigh that passes your lips when you feel his fingertips knead soft, slow motions over the base of your neck. “I’m just running with the punches.”

“Maker, you suck at talking sexy,” you laugh, brighter still when you feel Crosshair’s soft exhale over your skin as he stifles laughter of his own.

“Then let’s not,” he says and lifts his head to offer you a wry smile. Before you can humor any more dry banter, Crosshair pulls you flush against the hard lines of his chestplate, one hand curled over the base of your head and the other sliding around the small of your back, and swallows any words you had with his tongue.

Second nature, you lift your arms to curl over his shoulders and anchor him close.

Crosshair takes your invitation with ease, pressing his tongue over your lips before he gently shifts you up to seat you on the holotable edge and slots between your thighs. It doesn’t take the firm weight of his hand to have you rocking forward to meet him in a slow grind, and you lift one knee, hooking your calf over the hard edge of his thigh guard and pulling him closer still.

He pulls back, and you respond with a petulant whine, weakly tugging on his hip with your leg. Crosshair laughs, little but a soft huff, but one that has equal parts desire and frustration rising in your chest. Seeming to have caught on, Crosshair only leans forward enough to meet you with a chaste touch of his lips, but, desperate for more, you take the brief window of opportunity to reach up and tug his head to yours.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” you mumble insistently, punctuating your request with a soft nip over Crosshair’s top lip. You gasp when you feel his gloved fingers grab, twisting your hair tight under his fist and tearing you from his lips.

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he snarks back, his brows raised in playful challenge. “You take what you get,” he snarls, his lips curled up in a sharp grin as he yanks your head to the side and he dips close. You feel his breath fan over your skin, a brief and heady warning before he crowds you close and drags his tongue from the edge of your jaw to the highest crest of your cheek.

Desire, sweet and cloying, curls over your spine as he steps back, leaving you in a dazed sort of stupor as you watch him make quick work of the plastoid secured over him. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, ready to launch a snide remark his way, but whatever you intended to say is far beyond coherent thought, let alone expression. He finally closes that small distance between you, presses the hard lines of muscle and sinew close between your thighs, and your head falls back against the cold tabletop as you sigh.

He’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can’t get enough.

It’s different between each of them. There is careful intention with Hunter, playful and boyish glee in Wrecker’s arms, the stern edge of authority when Echo presses you against the wall, Tech’s rosy warmth when he kisses you sweet. But Crosshair offers you the snide challenge, the push and pull of teasing one-upmanship when he shoots you a smug grin, pushes your thighs open, and spits onto your cunt.

“Probably didn’t need to do that,” he says a bit mildly as he brings two calloused fingers up against your cunt and gently parts your swollen sex. You might have mistaken his soft exhale as laughter when you clench down around achingly empty space, but you know better. As he lifts his hand to your lips and pushes your own arousal past your lips, watching you take his fingers deep and suck, you know better. (It’s awe.)

“Fuck off, and fuck me,” you moan around his fingers, gently nipping over his skin.

“Are you really in any position to be making demands?” Crosshair snorts and pushes his fingers down against the flat of your tongue. You bite his fingers a little harder in response, and vindictive justice crows over the haze of lust in your chest when he hisses through a grin.

“Oh, please. You want this more than I do,” you roll your eyes, crinkling your nose as he smears your own spit over your lips before he pulls away.

Catching the slight part in Crosshair’s lips, you ready another snide retort. There’s an art to foreplay with Crosshair’s cynicism. But any coherent thought promptly dies on your tongue when, instead of a snappy comeback, Crosshair kneads one hand tight over your hip, presses the blunt head of his cock up against your cunt, and pushes.

It doesn’t get old—you don’t suspect it ever will—the satisfying burn pooling warm in your gut when Crosshair anchors you to the holotable and stretches you open. For that one, long moment, the clever, biting banter you share has vanished, leaving only slow, hitching breaths and the cresting ache of want to fill its place. You don’t hold the same playful joy of victory over his head when you open your eyes to see him groan, too enraptured by your own pleasure, by the gorgeous picture he presents you, his brows furrowed and eyes fluttered shut, to poke fun at how he bows over the table edge and braces himself over you with a stuttering inhale.

You cry out with him when you finally feel him press as deep as he can, the trembling muscle of his thighs molded up against your skin. Crosshair dips low, close enough that you feel his every heaving inhale brush against your chest, and you only see love, love, love, raw and tender and so, so good when you look through your lashes and catch the warmth in his dark eyes.

That this was it, that you were as good as it would ever get.

“Ready?” he whispers, play hinting at the edges of his voice as he strokes his thumb over your hip.

“Is that even a question?” you giggle.

Silent discretion isn’t necessarily something you strive for, not since the boys heartily accepted your trembling confession that one just wasn’t enough. You’ve long since learned to dismiss any flare of bashful embarrassment that might have you clap your hand over your mouth when Echo pulled you into the nearest room or Wrecker decided that he couldn’t wait for the few quick steps between the armory and the bunk hall. But it’s obscene, the sound that bubbles up from your throat when Crosshair abruptly pulls out of your dripping cunt and shoves himself back in full.

Too high on the euphoria heavy and thick in your throat, you barely register the soft kiss he presses to the corner of your mouth before he rises up and begins fucking into you in earnest. Your eyes flutter open when you feel his rough fingertips dig into the junction of your thigh and hip, trailing low for a brief, uncertain moment before he finds your clit and presses firm over where you part around him. And when you strain your ears above the breathy whines spilling from your lips, when you squeeze down around him with a soft sob, you hear him gasping with you.

This was really as good as you would ever need it to get.

“Wait,” you laugh a bit breathlessly, squirming under his touch. “Wait, let’s call them.”

Crosshair fixes you with something like morbid intrigue, his gentle, firm movements over your clit falling still so he can offer you the unspoken question behind a quirked brow.

“The area’s clear; they’re tired; morale’s low, you know. I think it’d be fun,” you rationalize as a coy smile grows on your lips.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about this entire campaign?” Crosshair finally asks. Despite the almost disinterested drawl in his voice, you both know it’s a weak cover for the mischievous delight at the prospect of teasing desire in front of his field-weary brothers.

“Maybe,” you breathe, breath hitching as he rolls his thumb over your clit.

“So vulgar,” Crosshair chuckles, rolling his eyes when you blow him a kiss and fall back onto the tabletop.

But he’s already reaching for his discarded commlink and shuffling it back on. He secures the plastoid snug over his forearm, and when he shifts forward to steady himself as the locks snap into place, he shifts up and presses firm against the spot in your cunt that has you arching off the holotable with a low whine.

“Save it for them, yeah?” Crosshair chuckles, and he presses for Tech’s comm.

“Crosshair?” Tech mumbles groggily, apparently having just awoken to Crosshair’s impromptu call.

“So good of you to answer,” Crosshair drawls into his bracer. As much as you’d like to sit back up and swat his audible smirk off of his lips, the snark dies on your tongue when he shifts forward hard, the firm lines of his hips connecting firm against your ass as you sink your teeth into your arm to stifle your sob.

“Is everything alright?” Tech asks through a yawn. And you would laugh at his sleepy obliviousness if you weren’t quite literally seeing stars, blinding iridescent comet trails across your field of vision, when Crosshair slips his free arm under your waist, secures you tight, and pushes his cock impossibly deeper into you. All you can do is bite down over your uniform sleeve and wonder if your high whine reaches the comm feed.

“Fine, really,” Crosshair says with a breezy flippancy that you don’t currently have the mental capacity to find irritating. “Mind telling the others to pick up?”

“Maker, this better be for a good reason,” Echo’s frequency crackles to life, albeit somewhat sourly. Following his voice, you register a hearty yawn from Wrecker’s line, and not a moment later, Hunter’s light quietly blinks on.

“Is y/n on?” Tech asks.

“Mm, she is,” Crosshair punctuates his words with another sharp thrust that has your toes curling in your boots as your legs jerk over his arms. The saccharine tenderness of earlier gives way to the smug tone you have grown to (begrudgingly) adore. “Come on, say hello.”

“H-Hi,” you whimper into your comm, trembling as Crosshair digs his fingers over the soft skin of your thigh and slowly pulls out of your cunt, just until the ridge of his cock catches on your stretched lips. This time, when he thrusts forward there is no measured, careful deliberation—only raw and rapidly unraveling need as he sheathes himself inside you with one smooth motion and crushes up against that soft spot inside you that has you sobbing over your comm.

If they hadn’t heard your soft, muffled noises before, they certainly have, now.

The collective feed goes quiet.

“Holy shit.”

And then all at once, it’s a staticky blend of voices when the realization finally sinks in and exhaustion has all but been forgotten for the night.

You hear Wrecker groan just above Hunter’s gasping, flushed “oh,” and you’re fairly certain you catch Echo and Tech synchronize a low, drawn “fuuuck” as you sigh. But Crosshair gives you little space to register the sudden and raucous desire over the channel when he cants his hips forward and fucks into you deep.

This may have been your idea in the beginning, but whatever control you thought you had has long gone as you scrabble for purchase over the cold holotable top. The teasing game, dangling the possibility of having in front of the boys in the field, is now simply a show out of your hands as you moan into your comm.

“How does she feel?” Wrecker asks, his voice breathy and low.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Crosshair laughs, angling another sharp thrust against the spot that makes you see stars.

You grip tighter to the edge of the holotable with a choked moan. There’s something so indescribably rousing to hearing them speak over you as if you aren’t even there, rutting desperately back against Crosshair’s hips as you sigh and moan into the commlink clutched over your wildly beating heart.

“Our poor little cyar’ika went four whole days without being touched—she’s dripping. Tell them how much you needed this,” Crosshair croons, a mocking sharpness curling at the edges of the gentle tone of his voice. “Tell them how much you need them.”

You tremble under him as his hips meet yours hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, unable to do more than whine as you feel him snake his arm up your chest and curl his fingers around your neck.

“I—I need you!” you manage, your words only soft sighs pulled from what little breath Crosshair affords you through a steady, devastating pace. “Maker, I miss you so much—!”

Eyes squeezed shut, you fight the urge to quell every noise that claws at your throat. As obscene as it makes you sound, your boys are nowhere near as close as Crosshair, able to do little else but close their eyes and dream of you through the modulated channel frequency alone. It’s the least you can do, you think, and you moan as Crosshair shifts his hips up hard.

“He makin’ you feel good, cyar’ika?” Hunter’s voice crackles over the channel. “Pretty baby, you feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm!” you whimper, nodding wildly as if they’re not camped out a few hundred klicks from the ship, as if they’re there, bearing witness as Crosshair pulls you apart with every insistent, heady motion he makes.

“You’re a big girl,” Crosshair sneers, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your waist as he fucks into you sharp enough it punches the breath from your lungs. “Use your words.”

“So—” Your voice wavers over a gasp. “Feels so good!”

“Attagirl,” you hear Echo groan.

You can’t imagine how much of a mess you must look, jaw slack and eyes rolled back into your head, drunk on nothing short of hedonistic joy in its purest form, legs jerking over Crosshair’s arms when he fucks a particularly deep thrust into your cunt. Maybe you’ll try a call over the holo next time.

“Close,” you whimper.

But as soon as the words leave your tongue, you realize your mistake, panic flooding in your throat when Crosshair raises his brows, a wicked grin on his lips, and simply. Stops.

“Are you, now?” Crosshair chuckles, and if you weren’t there, dangling at that precarious precipice, so, so close to the kind of pleasure that wracks through your body so hard you forget your own name, you might have slung some acerbic jumble of words his way. But you are there, twisting your hips for any sort of purchase while Crosshair offers you a knowing smile.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, only to be cut short, your words swallowed by your wailing moan when Crosshair fucks into you, a shallow thrust that pushes you closer, closer to the aching pleasure just out of reach.

“Oh, that wasn’t nice, was it?” Crosshair taunts.

The boys murmur over the channel, all soft laughter while they imagine your flustered desperation, wishing it was them back on the ship, stuck to lookout duty, blessed with the cool air of the helm and your warm cunt fluttering around them.

“What do you say?” Crosshair laughs breathily into his comm, dragging one slow finger over your throbbing clit, firm enough that it sparks want through your chest but too light to do little more than tease. You sob under his touch. “Does our girl deserve to come?”

“Let’s ask her,” Echo rasps, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, your mouth waters at the hazy mental image of the eldest’s lidded gaze, his cock fisted heavy in his hand as he whispers into his comm. “You think you deserve it, cyare?”

“Please,” you gasp. It’s more than a simple response, rather, a plea for something, anything, that little bit of more to push you over the razor thin edge between teasing pleasure and release.

“Gotta answer the question, little one,” Wrecker chokes out past a straining chuckle.

“Maker, you know what I mean—!” you whie, shuddering at the jolt of pleasure that laces up your spine when Crosshair wraps his arm over your thigh and presses deeper than you thought possible.

“Answer it,” Tech breathes.

“Fuck—I deserve it!” you finally sob, and your thighs clench when you hear Hunter groan over the channel. “Maker, I deserve it!”

You’re not sure if it’s your own confession ringing in your ears or the sensation of Crosshair squeezing his hands over your waist that finally tips that delicate balance between your excruciating anticipation and release, stirring wild and devastating from low in your stomach as you arch off the holotable and scream. It crashes over you in an endlessly overwhelming wave, swallowing you whole in nothing but simple, luxuriant pleasure fizzling at your fingertips and blurring your vision with euphoric tears while Crosshair shudders, head hung low as you clench down around him.

“That’s it,” Wrecker croons. Somehow, you’re still able to catch his adoring praise over the frequency, your focus turned to the way Crosshair continues to coax your pleasure, drawing it long and desperate with what thin strands of composure remain.

A final, stuttering thrust, and Crosshair drapes himself over you, burying himself as deep as he can in your fluttering cunt and groaning softly as he fills you with warm, heavy spurts of come. All you can do is whine and pulse around him, losing yourself to the mercy of every passing sensation that sparks delirious pleasure up your spine.

“We’ll be back soon, sweet thing.”

You weakly turn your head to face the blinking comm light beside you, reduced to a blurry spot of red muddled by the lingering tears in your eyes. It’s a miracle you can hear Hunter’s voice over the dull buzz in your ears at all, but even through your exhaustion, his voice strikes want, warm and deep, through your core.

You mumble something unintelligible to your own ears in response, little more than a sign of life as Crosshair steps back and clicks off your comm.

“Quite the show,” Crosshair laughs softly, leaning close to curl his palm at your jaw and thumb at the tears beaded over your lashes. He presses his lips to your temple, and you bask under his touch. “Did such a good job, cyare.”

“When I can’t walk in two days,” you rasp through the dry itch in your throat from your (retrospectively) embarrassing show of being as loud as humanly possible over the comms. “I expect you all to take turns carrying me everywhere.”

Crosshair snorts, tapping the soft skin of your inner thigh to carefully drag his fingertips through the mess of come and slick smeared over your cunt. “Two days? It took them four to get out to the mark.”

And he’s right. The soft, fluvial wetland outside was far from conducive for fast travel, even with a clear mark and sharp navigation. But all things considered, you wouldn’t be surprised if the boys were packing up and leaving camp now, all for the chance to board and throw you onto the nearest bunk a few odd days faster.

“Four credits they’re leaving right now,” you laugh.

“Let’s make it four credits they’ll make it back in two,” Crosshair offers. He dips low and brushes his forehead close against yours, sharing soft laughter as you reach up to stroke over the back of his head.

They make it back in one.

#after two long weeks behold #anyways all the power to u in this fic #u got these boys runnin laps #crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #yaej.writes

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Rivalries Of The High Seas

Requested By Anon: "Pirate AU, enemies to lovers."

AU: Pirate

Pairing: Captain!Rosé x Fem!Captain!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,375

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Injury (Inflicted On Reader), Dangerous Situations, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Anon, thank you for this one! I've never seen the movie you mentioned in your request, but you did well in explaining what you wanted to see here. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

PS ~ Captain Rosé could step on me and I'd say thank you

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Death isn't a new thing to you. It isn't some far-off, enigmatic fear capable of tearing down your psyche anytime the topic is brought up. In fact, you're faced with the harsh realities of it almost everyday, given your ranking. Even still, when you woke up this morning, you hadn't expected for the day to consist of you meeting your end.

Your hands remain clasped together tightly, bound to the rickety wooden chair you've been securely strapped into by layers of rope and chains. Your wrists burn as the rough material pulls against your skin, surely leaving dark marks by now, but that's the least of your worries as you eye the bandits standing before you. Their faces hold smug grins, cheeks pulling back in eerie smiles to reveal crooked teeth. "I won't give you the pleasure of seeing me beg for my life. I accept my fate." You say bravely, holding your head high.

"How noble, Captain." They sneer, leaning far too close for comfort. You fight the gag that works its way up your throat at the smell of them, the wicked stench burning your nostrils as it invades them.

"Even if you escape now, the rest of my crew will come for you." Rosé finally speaks from behind you, sitting in the same state as you as she glares at the surrounding men. Her fingers futilely pull at your shared restraints for the millionth time, brushing along your wrist in the process.

"It's cute that you think that matters. We'll be long gone by then."

Her head lightly pushes against yours as she leans back in her chair, seeking to evade the man when he enters her personal space. For some reason unbeknownst to you, your blood boils at his actions -- though Rosé is your enemy of sorts, seeing that she's a rival captain herself, you can't help but want to keep him away from her.

The vile creature parts her legs with an evil smirk on his lips, his filthy hand groping her thigh as he runs his fingers along her beautiful skin. She whimpers in protest, growing afraid of what he'll do to her in her captive state. Had she been unrestricted right now, she would've most definitely cut his hand off, forever reminding the world of his misdeeds.

"Just get it over with!" You shout angrily, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've done today. You've grown tired of the game they've been playing for over an hour, flipping between beating and ridiculing you relentlessly.

"Alright, alright," their leader chuckles, putting his hands up as he approaches you. He instructs his men to be on standby, ready to gather around the two of you and hoist you into the air. They wait for the all-clear to throw you overboard and into the chilly sea below, full of creatures you've seen during your fateful adventures over the years. There are certainly worse ways to go, and you attempt to come to terms with what's about to happen. Perhaps this is a poetic end for you -- being laid to rest in the place that you've spent most of your life and made countless memories.

"Keep those eyes on me as you fall. I want to remember what it looked like to take down the infamous Y/N L/N." You narrow your eyes at their leader, grimacing as they scan over his greasy, jet black hair and tattered overcoat. Aren't the "bad guys" supposed to at least be stylish? He's a sorry excuse for one if so.

"Kiss my ass." You utter, spitting at him. He lunges forward, just like you expected -- seriously, why are men so predictable? -- and takes the collar of your shirt between his fingers. He delivers a swift blow to your left cheek, only allowing you a second to recover before pulling your head back up to give the same treatment to the other side.

You can feel Rosé tense behind you, doing all she can to reach for you and offer comfort.

With a pained groan, you spit out a mouthful of fresh blood and raise your head to look at him again. "You know, you're not nearly as observant as you think you are." You smile, ignoring the pain that shoots through your busted lip. Before he has time to react, you raise your foot in one motion, swiftly connecting it with his crotch. How could they neglect to tie your feet? That's practically Pirate 101.

He doubles over in an instant, lungs void of the air necessary to speak another insult in retaliation to your act and body incapable of any further movement. His men make the decision for him, taking this moment as a sign to follow through with their plan and throw you over. Shouts and cheers pierce through the air above you as you make your quick descent, not even having time to say a goodbye to Rosé or offer a final word to the universe.

Cold water immediately rushes over your heated skin as you plunge into the waves below, its frigid temperature almost taking what little breath you managed to store away in your lungs. Aided by the water's altered state of gravity, you're able to work your hips past a few of the loosely tied ropes that rested against them.

One thing you admire about Rosé is her quick thinking. She's smart -- while you distracted the leader, she took the opportunity to pry off some of the restraints that required more time and effort, just like you hoped she would. Her slender fingers inconspicuously wiggled their way out of the ropes before freeing you from them as well, and the bandits were none the wiser. Her previous actions make this part all the more easy, and after spending a while on the final ties, the two of you kick off of your chairs and head for the surface. It's a struggle, no doubt, with the way you have to fight to bring the chains up with you and keep them from pulling you further under. But eventually you reach the surface, once again filling your lungs with that miraculously fresh air that they so desperately craved.

The saltwater stings as it flows over your face, getting in your eyes and rushing over all the wounds you've accumulated. Rosie sputters from beside you, struggling a bit to keep her head up, so you extend an arm for her to use to push herself up. You tell yourself you're only doing it -- that is, making sure she doesn't drown -- because she'll be useful in helping you survive. Deep down, though, your intentions extend further than that.

Once you find a steady rhythm with the waves and the fear of drowning subsides for the time being, you scan the horizon line. "I see land -- over there." You say, using your head to point to what looks to be an island in the distance. "We'll swim when we have the energy and float when we need rest, okay?" She nods in response, and the two of you get set on your way.

-----

Huffing from the pure exhaustion coursing through your bodies, you manage to drag yourselves onto shore before collapsing. The sand serves as a good place to lay, almost cradling you the longer you lay there. Tiny, rippling waves -- the aftershocks of much bigger ones -- lull into shore, fluttering past your ankles before being pulled back in by the tide. They lap against your skin, remedying your racing mind with their rhythm. Minutes pass in this cycle, setting you in a state of comfort before you remember everything you'll have to do before nightfall.

Once gaining enough strength, you raise your head and peek over at your rival.

She's sleeping. Of course. You can't blame her, but the sun -- once blazingly hot, perched high up in the sky -- is now setting, giving you a preview of the darkness that the night sky will hold. She turns, rolling her head towards you in her sleep, and you almost smile -- a light dusting of sand sticks to her puffed-out cheeks, and the bridge of her nose holds a small sunburn, making her look sunkissed and blushy. Y/N, stop that, you command yourself, shaking your head at your thoughts. She's your enemy, and she's the reason you're even in this mess in the first place.

"Wake up," you nudge her, reverting back to your previously tense demeanor. The anger you possess for the situation you're in is returning en masse, wiping the pleasant thoughts of Rosé from your mind.

She groans, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she attempts to ignore you. "Roseanne, we have to get up." Your voice is strong, commanding her just like your crew. Your crew, you think to yourself. Some of them were killed by the bandits while others were thrown into the prison chambers of your ship, left at the mercy of your enemies until they decide what they want to do with them. Your people are inventive and strong -- they'll likely find a way out of the sticky situation and reclaim victory. For now, though, you're left to worry about their fates as you attempt to survive on this island. If the elements and animals don't kill you first, the gorgeous woman beside you most definitely will.

"I'm up!" She all but shouts, following another prodding from you. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively raises her hand to wipe her face -- you catch the chains before they can make contact and harm her, and she sends you an appreciative look. "Guess I forgot about these…" she shakes her arms, jiggling your restraints in the process, "Oopsie."

"Come on." You say, standing up and pulling her along with you. Her dilly dallying is making you impatient, and it only increases your levels of irritation. You don't have time to waste.

"We have to break these," she states the obvious, searching the shore for a decently sized rock.

A sarcastic gasp slips past your lips as you look at her. "You don't say! I was thinking we'd just leave them on." She turns to glare at you, narrowing her eyes as she stops walking. Dear god, there's no time for this. With a mumbled "here we go", you allow her to continue.

"You know, we wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you."

"Me?!" You shout, completely taken aback. "Quite the contrary, Rosé. You're the one who led them to us!"

"If you would've accepted my offer, none of this would've happened. But you refuse to team up with anyone else. Look at where that got us now." She motions around herself to the island, expression settling back into an annoyed scowl as her eyes settle on you again.

"It's not my fault that my crew is more trained than yours; I had no reason to merge our teams."

"An agreement would've solidified our strength!" She yells, stomping her foot into the sand. Her boots managed to survive the long trip here, but their material is completely soaked.

"I'm responsible for my crew, and my crew only. I had no decent reason to bring yours in with mine. It's just a liability and more mouths to feed." You say evenly, clenching and releasing your jaw a few times.

She begins to fire off her rebuttal, but you tune her out for the most part and start walking further inland. She has no choice but to follow, and she does so while adamantly complaining. You throw occasional jabs to her arguments in order to keep her moving, and your plan works well. She's too busy bickering with you to notice that she's doing exactly what you want her to.

"...and you're so arrogant, Y/N! I mean, really. God, you're infuriating."

"Are you done yet?" You ask, cocking your head to the side while you simply blink at her. She squints at you, about to give you another piece of her mind, but you glance down at the rock you led her to and she closes her mouth.

"You can keep screaming at me or we can break these chains. Your choice." You shrug, pursing your lips. She cuts her eyes at you, but agrees with a huff, nonetheless.

The two of you work together to find fittingly sized rocks, taking turns dropping them on your restraints and methodically working them against them. Eventually the chains give way, allowing your hands to wiggle out of their strict hold. You're the first to free yourself; once you're done, you find Rosé struggling in silence, refusing to ask for your help.

"Here," you offer, extending a hand to her. Doing nice things for people without gaining something for yourself isn't something you do often -- you've been raised differently; grown more independent and self-serving after your time on the sea.

"Oh, now you want to work together?" She quirks an eyebrow.

You put your hands up with an amused grin. "I don't have to help, feel free to do it alone." You stand, dusting the sand off of your clothes as you begin to walk away and investigate the island. She calls out behind you, annoyed shouts getting further and further away as you just smile and continue your journey.

------

"Ah, glad you could join us again." You smirk, adding some kindling to the small fire you managed to set up during her time away.

"Shut it," she bites back, glaring at you.

"Tough crowd," you laugh, raising your eyebrows. For once, she doesn't say anything back. She busies herself with removing her shoes and socks, setting them next to the source of heat to dry before disappearing into the tree line. She returns a few minutes later, carrying with her a few different branches. Some of them are forked at the top, and she arranges them into a sturdy structure beside the fire as well. You try not to focus on how strong she looks as she does it, her muscles glistening in the fading evening light with a sheet of sweat.

To your surprise, she begins stripping.

First her overcoat, which she drapes across the branch acting as a beam between the forked ones, and then her vest. She wrings them out individually, and you watch as the materials drip with what water hadn't already evaporated yet. The loose linen undershirt that she wears remains on, and you're thankful for that -- had she taken it off as well, you likely would've passed out. The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel her eyes on you, and you keep your gaze trained on the fire.

"Well? Are you planning to stay in those clothes all night?" She asks, running a hand through her hair to fix it and get some of the sand out.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you're trying to get me naked, Rosie." You play, smiling harder when you see her roll her eyes and look away.

"You wish," she scoffs, though you can see her stealing glances at you as you remove your clothes. She admires the shadows that the fire casts over your body, the flames dancing as they offer their beautiful warmth. The two of you go way back, having grown up as frenemies due to your professions, but she's always had a soft spot for you. You piss her off to no end, and yet somehow she can think of plenty worse people to be stuck with.

After catching her staring, you decide to tease her. You flex your muscles, making sure to be extra and really make a show of it. She blushes, hiding behind her hands to escape the situation.

"Awww, somebody's shy." You say, chuckling at her.

"Am not," she protests, though her sheepish grin sells her out.

"Prove it," you challenge, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Teasing her is one of your favorite pastimes.

Tired of the games, she gathers all of the courage she possesses and stands, slowly sauntering her way over to you. Your eyes take in the sight of her, and she smirks; she works hard to stay in shape, and she knows she looks good. Countless weeks spent at sea, working alongside her crew on long voyages has left her with artfully tanned skin and a physique to die for. You go to compliment her, but she stops you before you have the chance, pressing a finger to your pursed lips. She trails it lower, blazing a path across your jawline and chest, stopping at your ribs. Your breath hitches, and she definitely feels it. You curse yourself for being so easy, already knowing what's coming.

"Who's shy now, sweetheart?" She purrs out, smiling victoriously.

How she's capable of switching demeanors so easily baffles you, but it ensures that no interaction with her will be boring, if nothing else.

"Yeah, yeah," you grumble, pushing her away to break the growing tension. She's looking at you with some glint in her eye that you can't quite place -- all you know is that if she keeps doing it, things might escalate to a place neither of you are prepared for.

You clear your throat and step around her to adjust your clothes on the drying rack. "You can go ahead and sleep. I'll stay awake and keep the fire going."

She nods with a slight frown on her lips, though you don't see it. "Alright. But wake me up when you get too tired, okay?" You assure her you will, though truthfully your body is aching for sleep right now. The beating you took earlier did its worst on you, leaving your skin bruised and muscles knotted. She deserves to rest, though, and you're okay with giving her the first shift of it. Besides, your mind would surely keep you awake for the better part of an hour -- at least it'll be used to its fullest with her.

What you don't realize, however, is that when she lays down beside you, cuddling into the sorry attempt for a bedroll that you threw together, she merely pretends to fall asleep. Likewise, when she settles her head in your lap, searching for a more comfortable place to lay it, she's fully conscious. She lazily smiles when you run your hands through her hair, wrapping the locks around your fingers in mindless patterns before releasing them and starting over. It's soothing, and soon enough she calms her eager heart enough to slip away to dreamland.

--- A Few Days Later ---

"Wakey wakey…" Rosé sing-songs, hovering over you. The two of you have settled into this familiar rhythm over the past few days, spending the daytime searching for food and supplies and taking shifts to sleep through the night. You've almost always ended up taking the latter opportunity, though sometimes Rosé would force you to rest first if you needed it badly enough.

"Mmm," you groan in disapproval, rolling over. The sun is far too bright, and your upgraded bed situation is much too comfortable to offer any valid reason for you to leave it. Rosé knows how difficult it is to get you up, but she's learned some very useful tactics.

"Y/N…" she drawls, voice like honey as it releases your name with care. Her lips are next to your ear, teasing you as her warm breath fans across your neck. You audibly swallow, not prepared for that in the slightest, and slowly peek your eyes open. She raises a hand to shield your face from the unforgiving sun, and you smile at the domesticity of the act. She looks like a dream -- her hair is fanned out, swaying peacefully in the calm breeze that rolls in from the sea, and she's grinning that killer smile down at you. Her previous sunburn has turned into a tan now, making her look even more irresistible somehow.

"What do you want to do today?" You ask, lacing your fingers together as you put them behind your head. They work as a cradle, cushioning your head from the sand.

"I saw some berry bushes on the north side of the island. They didn't look like any poisonous kind I've studied about, so maybe we could check them out?" She suggests, sitting back on her knees with a quirked brow.

"Sounds like a plan." You smile lazily, gazing up at her. A light pattern of freckles paints her cheeks, and you can't help but grin at how adorable she is.

"What is it?" She asks skeptically, squinting at you.

"You're just too cute for your own good, is all." You sigh, content as you stand up and tug a blushing Rosé behind you. She closes the "door" behind herself, sealing off the entryway to your humble abode. It's a panel of leaves and sticks, built to be sturdy yet lightweight and easy to move. She built it herself, and a sweet smile works its way onto her lips as she remembers the praise you sent her way after she presented it to you.

--------

"If you don't slow down then I'm gonna slap you," she says, peering up at the trees that loom high overhead. In her distracted state, she neglects to look where she's going.

Her rambling is cut short by your hand darting out in front of her, effectively stilling her movements and words. You glance at the ground, prompting her eyes to follow the path they made and widen upon realizing what you just saved her from. An animal -- some wretched cross between a scorpion and pincher beetle -- continues its trip across the downed log that lays in front of you, menacing in its appearance.

"Thank you," she breathes out, leaning into your side as you hold her and direct her away from danger.

"Do me a favor and don't die, okay?" You quirk, scrunching your face up at her humorously. She shoves you, holding up her middle finger as she walks ahead and blazes a path for the two of you. You chuckle, grinning stupidly as you follow after her.

--- 3 Hours Later ---

"Take cover," you shout to an imaginary army, seeking refuge behind the base of a large tree. Rosé chuckles maniacally from behind one of the berry bushes, her fingers lightly stained from the juices that are running down her palm.

"Nice try, Y/N. But you can't escape… CAPTAIN ROSÉ!" She shouts, surprising you as she charges in your direction, pelting you with berry after berry. You squeal, evading as many of the makeshift missiles as you can by darting behind different greenery. She eventually catches up, snaking her arms around your waist and preventing you from getting away again.

"NO!" You exclaim, slumping further into her arms in defeat after your attempts to escape prove futile. She spins you around to face her, pressing your back up against the nearest tree as the two of you practically double over with laughter. She looks ethereal, with how she shines in the sunlight that sneaks its way through the canopy of tree tops above you. Her eyes are almost closed from how hard she's smiling at you.

A sharp growl breaks the happy moment, perking your ears up and causing your heart to race for a different reason entirely. You glance around the tree, protectively stepping in front of Rosé to shield her from any new threat. An animal -- something you've never seen before -- bares its teeth, snarling aggressively as it sets its sights on you. Your blood runs cold in your veins, stopping your heart momentarily as your brain attempts to formulate a plan on the fly. With only a few precious moments left before it attacks, you glance around for anything to double as a weapon without making any sudden movements.

Rosé is clutched onto you from behind, and you can feel her heart beating wildly. You have to protect her, no matter what.

"On my count, I want you to climb into this tree. I'm going to try and defend us." From what little knowledge you've inferred in the past couple minutes, you doubt the animal is capable of climbing well; it doesn't have the body or feet for it. You fear it is capable of running quickly, though, so the tree is likely your best bet.

"What? No, I'm going to--"

"Roseanne, please, for once, just do as I ask. Trust me." You plead over your shoulder, noting the slight tremble that runs through her as another roar echoes out. Your eyes remain trained on it, never backing down for a second.

One steadying breath later, you shout, "Now!" and swoop down to pick up what helpful materials you can. You charge at the animal, taking the offensive in order to keep as much distance possible between it and Rosé. You successfully jab the sharpened stick into its side, causing it to wail in pain. In an instant it grabs your arm, wrapping it's paws around you as it lunges forwards and tumbles to the ground on top of you. A scream leaves your lips as you watch its teeth dig further into your flesh, garnering deep crimson blood to spill from your developing wounds. You protect your neck with your other arm, only breaking this rule to reach to your side and retrieve the heavy rock you brought along as well. It connects with the side of the animal's head, only making it whimper before loosening its grip the slightest bit. You weren't prepared for it to be such a tough enemy. You use your strength to roll it over and sit on top of it, keeping your arm in its grip to ensure that it stays occupied. Your fingers dig into every sensitive part of its body you can reach, performing the defense moves you've spent your life practicing to use. With a glance at Rosé, you find her safe in the tree, just like you wanted.

"Run!" You shout, willing to keep the creature distracted in order to give her time to escape. Before you can see if she listens to you, it's nails claw into your abdomen, scratching painful designs into the previously smooth skin. It performs another death roll, and you barely have the strength to shank it in the side again. It howls, rearing back to go for your jugular before its movements are abruptly cut short. An unsettling crack rings out above you, and you open your eyes after not receiving the fatal blow you had been expecting. The animal scampers away from you, limping off further into the forest until it's out of sight.

Rosé drops the large branch in her hand, the end of it lightly stained with blood. "Go..." you weakly mumble, eyes beginning to flutter closed as you notice how much blood you've already lost. You feel cold, and you have to fight the shiver that runs through you.

"I've got you, Y/N." She whispers, cradling your fragile frame in her arms as she picks you up and begins the journey back to camp. "You did good." She reassures, having no idea how much you needed to hear that before falling unconscious.

---------

After gathering the medicinal plants and resources that the two of you have accumulated so far, she returns to the fireside, settling down beside you. She raises your shirt enough to have access to your wounds, but not far enough to expose you. Temperate water meets your bloodied and broken skin, rushing over the sensitive areas as she gently cleans them. Once dry, she mixes the materials into a sort of salve to rub on them before laying the plants on them in place of bandages.

The crackling of the fire works with the crashing of distant waves to serve as background noise, making the night far more peaceful than the day had been. She allows you to continue resting, knowing you need all of it that you can get.

About an hour or so later you wake with a start, hands reaching out as if you were right back in front of the animal. Your dreams were plagued with images of the nightmarish beast, and you're having trouble adjusting to the fact that they were all in your head. They felt so real. Rosé is by your side in an instant, brushing your hair out of your face with one hand while caressing your thigh with the other -- it's one of the only places that made it out of battle relatively unscathed. Your panicked eyes find hers, glazed over with tears as you pull her flush against your body, glad to know she's okay. Her warmth reminds you that she's here, that she's real, and that she's safe.

Memories of your fight come flooding back, filling your mind with the terrifying things you witnessed and reigniting your fight or flight response. You remember that she didn't listen to you -- she put herself in harm's way instead of leaving you behind, like you asked -- and you grow angry. Muttered phrases of disapproval leave your lips as you push her away, stumbling slightly when you try to stand on your own. Although confused by your erratic behavior, she reaches out to assist you, only to be met with a harsh refusal from you.

"Stop!" The word comes out as an angry shout -- louder than you originally intended -- but you can't find it in yourself to apologize right now. You find your footing after a moment, holding your side as you walk away from her.

"What's your problem?" She shouts, marching after you. She refuses to let this go without a fight, seeing as how she has plenty more questions than answers now.

"You could've gotten hurt, Rosé, and I could've handled it on my own." You say over your shoulder, continuing on your journey away from camp. Her relentlessness is quickly getting on your nerves.

"Clearly you couldn't! You needed help; why are you denying that?" She stops now, crossing her arms angrily with her brows furrowed. The fact that you're still so set on clinging to your pride is pissing her off.

"You should've left me there! I can't have you getting hurt because of me." You turn around now, setting your jaw. Is she really this blind? This has nothing to do with your pride. Her eyes meet yours, the pools overflowing with confusion as they scan over your face in search of clarification.

"I can handle something happening to me; I've made my peace with that. But if something ever happened to you because of my incompetence…" you shake your head at the mere thought of that, momentarily too overwhelmed to continue, "...I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I care about you, idiot." You add that last line before turning around, not bothering to wait on her reaction. Part of you is scared to, honestly, and the day has been far too eventful for you to handle a potential rejection on top of everything else.

She says nothing, leaving the air around you void of her beautiful voice, and you don't know whether to be thankful or disheartened.

You put more distance between the two of you, leaving a stunned Rosé in your wake as you find a place to sit along the shoreline. Your temper -- more precisely, the fear you hold that presents itself as anger -- reared its head tonight. You didn't mean to snap at her like that, but the possibility of her getting hurt because of you makes your blood boil. That would be unforgivable, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. You felt helpless earlier, quickly running out of the strength required to keep her safe.

Salty tears manage to break past your line of defenses, much like Rosé has managed to do with your heart. She's torn down every wall you've ever put up to protect yourself, and now that she's there you don't know how to cope. You've had people you considered close before, but none of them have mattered like she does. You've never been so afraid of losing someone.

A soft hand on your shoulder makes you jump slightly, pulling you from your thoughts. Speak of the devil.

"Hey." She says simply, sitting down beside you. You turn your face away, not wanting to let her see you cry. "I'm sorry for fighting, okay? But I'm not sorry for helping you. I care about you, too, and I'll be damned to just leave you like that." She doesn't say anything else, doesn't try to make you look at her -- she just sits there, waiting for you to be ready to do so on your own.

She's waited on you since you were teenagers, so she figures she's capable of waiting a bit longer now. Both of you are aware of the love you hold for one another; this is just the hardest part -- finally admitting it.

"I can't lose you," you whisper, eyes full of tears that occasionally roll down your cheeks once gravity finds its footing. You turn to the front, still too emotional to look into her eyes.

"Ditto. That's why I did what I did."

Your knees are raised and pulled in close to your body for security, your arms wrapped around them to keep them in place. She reaches over to rest her hand on yours, wordlessly coaxing you into looking at her.

"I…" You pause, voice breaking with the emotions you're still reeling from.

"I know." She says, resting her forehead against yours.

"I love you, too."

She pulls you in, making sure to be gentle and not injure you any further. She raises your head to press her lips against yours, tasting the faint hint of wildberry that still rests on them from earlier. It's slow and new, giving you a break from the intensity you've been dealing with the past few days. You tilt your head to the right, letting out a whimper as her fingers graze a bruised spot on your ribs. She gives you another peck before pulling away, determined to stop herself while she still can. You're addicting, and she already can't get enough of you.

A beat passes between you, giving you time to sort the thoughts rushing around your mind. "I've always loved you." You admit, pulling back to look at her. Tears well in her eyes, shining brightly in the brilliant moonlight as they threaten to fall.

"Ever since we commanded our own boats for the first time. Mine was better, of course," she laughs at that, smiling despite herself, "...but I knew you were different then. I've spent all these years being too stubborn to let myself have you."

She takes your words in, her heart pounding victoriously in her chest at your confession. "I knew when we were still training together. You always made things better for me then; I was so thankful to know you. Even if we teased the hell out of each other."

You grin at the countless memories that come to mind. "Do you remember that night at the docks, after we graduated from our classes?" She looks up, searching her memory vault. "When you kissed me?" She asks. You nod, looking down with a bashful smile.

"I knew we wouldn't see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it count."

"You made it really hard to say goodbye, you know?" She says, her eyes softening as she looks at you.

"I know. But you get half of the blame."

She tuts at you, nudging you playfully. You hiss in pain, causing her to bring a hand up to cover her growing smile. "Oops. Sorry, not sorry."

"If I wasn't hurting so bad I'd tackle you right now."

"Oh, I'm so scared." She laughs, mocking you.

"That's it," you declare, ignoring the pain that shoots through your body with all the moving you're doing. Her laugh practically heals you anyway, so it's not hard to push it from your mind. You press her into the sand, rolling over to straddle her hips and pin her hands above her head.

"Woah, tiger. Don't hurt yourself." She raises her head as much as her restrained state will allow, coming dangerously close to your face.

"You're such a dork." You tut, leaning in to capture her lips once more. She mumbles out a, "you love it, though" against you, and your heart can't help but soar.

- A Few Weeks Later -

A soft melody rides along the airwaves towards your ears, persuading you to wake up from your cozy slumber. You cuddle further into Rosie's tempting embrace, smiling at the way she pulls you impossibly closer. Her throat wiggles as she hums out a familiar tune from your childhood -- one of the songs you used to dance together to.

"You big softie." You coo, resting your chin on her chest to look into her eyes with a smile. She grins, finally peeking at you through her lashes.

"Good morning, beautiful." She says, her accent coming through adorably. She pulls you up to her lips for a kiss before rolling you onto your back.

You sigh as she leaves open mouth kisses to your neck, dragging her lips over the skin there lazily. She takes her time, leaving marks here and there to show the world who you belong to. Her hands skim over the warm skin of your abdomen, finally free of the intense wounds you've been recovering from. Only small scars are left now, serving as a testament to what you endured.

"Mmm, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." She chuckles at that, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder as her body shakes with laughter.

"You're thinking about food while I'm kissing you?" She grins, propping herself up on her arm to look down at you lovingly.

"What can I say? I'm a hungry girl." You kiss her cheeks, ghosting your lips over hers. "Although," you tease the corner of her mouth, "...you're looking pretty tasty right about now. I might just eat you instead."

She squeals as you crawl on top of her, pretending to bite her skin as you tickle her sides.

"I surrender!" She shouts, finally giving into you. You kiss her one last time before pulling away and practically dragging her out of the structure.

"I'll get started on cooking the fish if you grab some water." You offer, rustling through your handmade crate for the skewers you use to prepare food.

"Alright," she nods, kissing you on the cheek before grabbing your canteens and setting off towards the freshwater spring not far from camp.

"Be careful!" You call out after her, smiling when she turns around to face you with her hands in the form of a heart.

---------

"Good job baby. That was delicious." She compliments, leaning back against the log you use as seating beside the fire. She almost always opts to sit in the sand and rest against it for some reason, but you're long past questioning her at this point. Rosie's… unique.

"They don't call me Chef Y/N for nothing." You quip, holding your head higher with a sense of self-importance.

"They don't call you that anyway."

"Hey," you pout, slapping the back of her head with no real force. "Let a girl pretend, would you?"

"Fine, my apologies." She smiles again, and you can't help but do the same. You've lost count of how many times she's made you laugh over these past few weeks, and although you hope to be rescued sooner rather than later, the thought of being stuck here with her for a while longer doesn't seem all that bad.

"You're doing it again," she trails off, wiggling her voice up and down to tease you.

"What?"

"Looking at me like a lovesick puppy." Her eyes shine in the warm, tropical sunlight, pools of rich amber that you wouldn't mind getting lost in. They match the color of whiskey almost perfectly.

"Not my fault. Have you seen yourself?." She scoffs, but blushes nonetheless. You lean over to press a kiss to the top of her head affectionately.

Your attention is stolen away all at once as you hear the words you've been imagining ever since you arrived on the island. "Land, ho!" Multiple voices bellow out in the distance, prompting you to search for their source. Collective cheering can be heard, and you swiftly stand -- as if that simple act will miraculously enable you to see better.

"We're coming, Captain!" Jisoo, your second in command shouts, seemingly hanging off the bow of the ship -- your ship. A squad of others follows behind, maintaining a tight formation as they make their way to shore.

"Us too, Captain!" Someone calls from one of the neighboring boats, apparently one of Rosé's crewmembers. She waves back excitedly, and you bite back the smile that tugs at your cheeks.

Eventually they reach land.

"Y/N!" Your scout, Lisa, shrieks like a schoolgirl, running into your arms eagerly. She was the first friend you ever made during your training years, long before you met Rosé, and you were truly worried for her.

"Ah, Lisa. Jisoo." You look between the two of them proudly, glad to see them alive and well. "What happened?"

"We managed to defeat Captain Crusty's men--" she stops to explain when she notices your brows furrowed in amused confusion, "--that's the nickname we gave the bandit leader. Anyway, we defeated them and repaired the ship enough to make it back to shore. They did some major damage, though."

You nod, satisfied with their story, until you remember that they didn't come alone. You subtly motion your head to the other crew, and Jisoo gets the memo. "We found the rest of these pea-brains back at the docks and they insisted on coming along."

"Hey, it's not like we wanted to be stuck with you either!" Jennie, Rosé's second, hits back, defending herself and the rest of her crew. "If your moron captain would've listened to Rosé we wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't have lost anyone in the process."

"Quiet," Rosé warns, stepping in front of her to block the two sides from each other.

Despite knowing it isn't technically your fault, Jennie's words do hold some truth. You feel guilty for all the senseless violence you could've potentially spared your people from enduring, and the what-ifs weigh heavily on your mind and heart.

"So long as I'm still in charge, no one will disrespect Y/N or her crew. Are we clear? I won't take kindly to any of you going against me." It's a heavy warning, and her tone makes it clear that she'll be true to her word. They know better than to test her. Her eyes scan the group of misfits, all looking bewildered by her sudden change of heart. It must be a bit jarring for them, after being such bitter enemies with the others for so long. Regardless, scattered nods and grumbles of acceptance leave them before they all scurry away to get started on their tasks, looking like scolded children.

You send Lisa and Jisoo along with the rest of your crew to go ahead and board again, seeing that you have no real equipment to pack up this time. It feels wrong to leave the island -- the place that brought you back to Rosie and allowed you to open your heart to her -- without something to remember it by. So, with a whispered, "Wait here," you run back to camp to snatch something.

You return soon after, a huge smile plastered on your face. "You're bringing our door?" She laughs, tilting her head at your strange choice.

"Duh. Good to know your eyes still work, I was getting worried." You tease, giggling as she pinches you.

"Come on baby; let's go. Last one there has to clean the poop deck."

"Get back here!" She yells, chasing you into the chilly water with a smile. Whether she loses or not doesn't matter much to her -- she finally has you after all these years, and she can't wait to see where the future will take the two of you.

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4dtk · 3 years

Text

@miyoung07: “Hello, how is everything? I saw that your orders are open and I think your writing is so cute, could I order one? Could you be a picture of Na Jaemin ( NCT Dream ) please? With drabble hand in hand: 1 and 39 / Hug: 8,17 and 24 / Kisses: 19 and 44 and lastly Moving: 22, 25 and 26. They will for an art exhibition, and then return by car at night (They had time together after a long time). I'm sorry if it sounds too much if I can't do it right! If you have any questions you can ask me, and if you want to reduce something you can also do it any way you want! Thank you, take care!!!!! :) 💖( sorry if my english is not good )” your english is perfect fine, honey! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy :)

ps, no specific art museum i’m focusing on, but the piece that i’m mainly talking about is called can’t help myself by Sun Yuan and Peng Yu! i’ve seen this all over tiktok (and maybe some of you have too!!) and while i may not relate that much to what people’s interpretation of it are, it’s a beautiful piece nevertheless

hand-holding, 1 & 39: tiny hands in big hands, holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition

hugs, 8: hugging while walking

kisses, 19: forehead kisses

touching, 22, 25 & 26: falling asleep on the other’s shoulder, stroking the other’s arm soothingly, kissing the top of their head

i removed a few numbers, hope that's okay with you hun <3 under a cut bc this intro is a little long! take care too ❤️

“do you think that’s an ass or a face?” jaemin asks intuitively, looking at the complicated painting before him. you couldn’t blame him, per say, seeing how the artist fused his colours together to the point where you couldn’t tell whether you were staring at a butt or the curvature of a face.

“ohhh… it says here that it’s intentional~!”

you suppress a laugh, “no way, really?” you lean into the artist’s information beside the painting, scanning the lines for any mention of it that you don’t realise jaemin’s walked away from you already. he has hands stuck in his pocket, looking like a lost kid while he walks around nonchalantly.

“h- hey!” you call out to him as you leave the other painting. jaemin laughs once he’s found out, cooing like he would to a kid as he makes fun of your gullibility.

“baby, you really gotta stop believing everything i sa- ack! ow!” his baby voices is interrupted by his laughter when you slap him on the shoulder, failing to keep the stern look on your face. you only get his teasing when he sees your frown turning in a smile, reaching down to grab onto your hand that fit perfectly in his.

“c’mon, let’s move on,” the look in jaemin’s eyes subsides into one full of love, a slight smile pulling on his lips before reaching forward to peck you on the forehead. you have no time to sort out your surprise before he’s pulling you to the next one and to the next one and to the next one as well.

“oh. oh, this one. oh man, i’ve seen this all over tiktok,” jaemin gets pulled this time from a sculpture to a big glass set-up, with a mechanical arm desperately cleaning a red gooey liquid. you’re stuck in a trance looking at it with jaemin by your side as it continues to make more mess over the one thing it’s programmed to do: clean up.

you’ve read about it, seen comments about it, but nothing compares to viewing the frantic movements in real life. where the mechanical arm has its erratic movements, you can see the compare it to that of panic and distraught.

jaemin watches over you while you sniffle, a hint of a tear lingering at your eyes when you subconsciously squeeze his hand.

“look at it, jaem…” you turn to him with a sympathetic expression, heart breaking over a piece of metal.

it doesn’t take long for your lover to match your expression, “oh, honey…” jaemin lets you watch the exhibition for a bit longer, watching how you react as the ‘blood’ is stained and splatted on the white of the walls.

it’s a sullen mood when you exit the museum with you pressed up against jaemin’s side, quietly walking towards the car where a staff member waited. you both know that it’s due to the saddening exhibition, but you blame it on your fatigue as well.

you exchange a small smile with the other when you pile into the car, letting drowsiness taking over before your head meets the space between his neck and shoulder. it finds its home there, ignoring the way jaemin compares your hand in his.

each finger taps against his and you can feel the rise of his cheeks on your head. you keep your eyes closed, hanging onto the last bits of consciousness even as his other hand traces your forearm gently.

“stop it,” mumbling was all you could do, adjusting your position to get as close to your boyfriend as possible. his body heat warms you right up in the coldness of the weather and you’re thankful for the staff’s stable driving that allows you to snuggle comfortably.

“sorry, baby. you’re just too cute,” jaemin whispers and grins together with you as you respond to the kiss on your head with a widened smile, taking his place in your side embrace and in your heart.

103 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Note

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore.

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed.

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music.

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed.

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

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halsteadsfave · 3 years

Text

Sex On Legs - Part 2 (j.l.s)

Part 1

Pairing: Jesse Lee Soffer x Reader

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: alcohol, possible spelling errors

A/N: here is part 2 for you! hope you’ll enjoy (: Once again: Send in some request! You can send some prompts too!

xoxo

____

Climbing into Jesse’s car, you were putting on your seatbelt.

'Where do you live (Y/N)?' He asked, starting the engine and driving to the gate of the Universal Studios.

'Currently, I’m living in a hotel. I haven’t had time to look for a suitable apartment. Plus I’m new in Chicago' you said, watching him drive his car.

Jesse had an amused grin on his face. 'So, you’re telling me you’re living the hotel life? This sounds pretty nice though'

'Oh trust me, it is‘ you laughed a little. ‚Getting food 24/7, having your room cleaned and the hotel feeling is fantastic.'

'I never thought of it. This is amazing. Life would be so much easier.' Jesse was in his thoughts and you had to laugh again.

'To be honest, it is quite expensive and you can’t have everything as you want it' you added and he shrugged.

'I just imagine it being super cool. Walking into a hotel every day like a real businessman? I’m still waiting for this job offer' he commented and you both laughed.

It was really nice being around him. Jesse had a great sense of humor.

'You can pay me a visit if you want' you suggested and he smiled at you for a moment.

'Been waiting for this offer' he winked at looked back at the streets.

'Oh, I already thought so' you grinned.

'Ok, so we’re nearly there' he told you, while you took a look at your surroundings.

Some minutes later you were in his apartment, which was amazing. The sunset was shown through the big windows. It really looked magical. You liked his interior and it smelled very good.

The doorbell rang and Jesse went to open it. Miranda, Taylor, Tracy, and Kara came in. They brought pizza and beers.

You sat down at the big table next to the kitchen. Miranda sat across from you and winked. You could just shake your head and laugh.

'Why are you laughing?' Kara said with her mouth full of the first piece of pizza. '(Y/N)’s just falling in love with the owner of this wonderful apartment' Miranda replied to her before you could say anything.

Your eyes went wide. 'Would you stop it?' You whispered fully aware that the other three of you were still in the kitchen and probably couldn’t hear her comment.

'Really? That would be amazing!' Kara ignored your reaction.

'What would be amazing?' Tracy came in and took the seat next to Miranda.

'I was just talking about (Y/N)-' 'Taylor could you help us to cut the pizza?' You asked him a little bit louder to stop Miranda talking about your little crush.

'Umm, I can do that' Jesse came up to you with the cutter. Standing next to you, you had to think about who smelled better. The pizza or the absolutely handsome man next to you.

Taking the piece of pizza out of his hand you saw Miranda watching you two. You kicked her under the table and she mumbled a little 'Ouch.' You could just smile to yourself while she was glaring at you.

'I think we could go for a round of strip poker. What do you think guys?' Miranda asked after we all cleaned up the mess we made while eating.

'Be right back' Jesse told her after everybody agreed. You definitely will lose a lot of clothes, because poker wasn’t made for you.

'I suck at this' you admitted. 'Me too. Let’s strip together' Tracy laughed and fist-bumped you.

Jesse came back with the game and Kara prepared everything.

'I hope you all are wearing something nice under your tops and bottoms' Taylor grinned. 'Except for Jesse of course' he added quickly and we laughed.

'I actually do wear boxer shorts, but I hope I can keep my jeans on' he smirked and popped another beer open.

You were thinking of what you are wearing today, but it was nothing special. It was probably a set of black underwear. Re-checking with taking a look through your shirt, you saw the black lace.

'Already preparing for getting rid of your shirt?' Miranda smirked. 'No, just checking if everything sits right' you gave her a quick smile before taking your cards.

While Taylor and Tracy were discussing the rules, you caught Jesse's eyes and smiled at him. He smiled back and turned to a poker face afterward. You both had to cover your laugh because Kara was starting the round.

To your surprise, you weren’t the first person to get rid of a piece of clothes. It was Kara. 'So I’m going for my jeans, but don’t expect something hot. I’m on my period' she said while stepping out of the jeans.

Miranda fake whistled while admiring the black panties with little red hearts on them. 'Kara, you can’t be serious' Tracy laughed at Kara wiggling her butt at her.

A round later it was Jesse’s turn. He lost because you had the better cards at the end. 'Oh (Y/N) I promise you, you’ll be the next' he said with a mischievous smile.

'In your dreams, Soffer' you grinned and he took off his shirt. You froze for a second. Scanning his body, you completely lost it. He was charming, funny as hell, with clothes hella attractive, and now?

'I told you, girl. He’s the definition of „sex on legs“!' Miranda laughed.

'You really introduced him to her like that?' Taylor asked her with a surprised face.

'How could she not?' Jesse interrupted trying to make a shocked expression and threw his t-shirt into Taylor’s face.

'Have you seen my body?' Taylor asked, removing Jesse’s shirt. I took a sip of the beer bottle in front of me and followed the conversation with my eyes.

'Sadly yes. I had to shoot some scenes with you, my love' Miranda winked at him and everybody laughed.

'Time for a revenge' Jesse mentioned and took his cards. You were looking at him and his body again. Did you already think about how perfect he is? His eyes, his freckles, his smile, his arms, his...

'Earth to (Y/N)?' Kara was waving her hands in front of your face. You shook your head a little and met the warm green eyes, you were looking at before. Jesse laughed to himself and you turned red.

'Yes, I lost. What do you wanna see?' You asked, trying to cover your embarrassment.

'Take off the top' Tracy told you. Quickly removing it and throwing it on the floor. Avoiding the glances of the others, you were taking another sip.

'Damn, you look hot' Tracy rose her voice again. You felt the redness coming back. Of course, the whole nation saw you in your bra before, but these were other circumstances.

'Thanks to you' you smiled at her and saw Jesse agreeing with nodding a little and taking a sip of the beer just like you before.

Continuing with the game, everybody had either their pants or their tops next to them on the ground. It was a lot of fun because everybody seemed to suck at this game. But maybe this was the intention of playing it.

You didn’t mind seeing the other ones without clothing. You were all trained and perfectly in shape. But one of them especially caught your eye.

Jesse lost again and was standing up. He opened his belt and his jeans straight after it. Of course, you were watching him. Everybody did. Except for Miranda. She was watching you with an amused smirk on her face.

'Sorry to tell you that, but you will see me in my boxers' Jesse looked next to him. Taylor laughed. 'I was already aware of it. Don’t worry. The other ones won’t mind at all.'

Stepping out of his jeans, you had to look at the white Ralph Lauren boxer he was wearing. Thinking of things you shouldn’t, you looked away and took your cards.

'Next one who will lose has to host our next match' Kara announced and your eyebrow shot up in surprise.

'This is a good one. (Y/N) maybe you could lose. I’m sure we all agree that a hotel would be nice for hosting it' Jesse said while sitting down onto his chair again.

‚Pah, you wish' you grinned at him. Of course, you’ll lose. You had no concentration left and under pressure, you sucked the most.

Some minutes later, you leaned back, crossing your arms in front of you. Yes, you lost.

'Is there a spa at the hotel? Maybe we could go in there after getting rid of all our clothes next time' Taylor asked grinning like an idiot. Everybody was pretty happy about you losing the last round.

'You have to show your beautiful bum, (Y/N). Even though it is the last round and we can technically put our clothes on again, you owe us the show' Miranda raised her voice.

You exhaled loudly and stood up. Quickly opening your jeans, you were removing them. 'There you go' you said. This was embarrassing, but you didn’t mind anymore. The beer you were consuming the last hour, was worth it now.

'Oh man, that looks hot' Jesse admitted and winked. Everybody drank a lot, but he sounded totally sober. It made you blush again.

'I wouldn’t mind if you girls would just stay like this' Taylor added and you all laughed.

Continuing after the game with a lot of talking and laughing. When you finally arrived home, you were absolutely happy. The whole evening and night were hilarious. You couldn’t wait for the next time. Furthermore, you couldn't wait to meet Jesse again.

PS: I won’t upload tomorrow

#jay halstead #jesse lee soffer #jesse lee soffer fanfiction #jesse lee soffer one shot #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay

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mctherofdragons · 4 years

Text

In the Afterglow | 3 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: ANGST, mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, mentions of infertility/miscarriage, mentions of sex, cussing, i think that’s it

Author’s Note: I have to give a HUGE shout out to @starlightweasley because oh my gosh, she has been my sounding board for SO many ideas for this fic and i’m so thankful for that. I hope you all love this chapter, but I will say it’s a bit of a filler. Chapter 4 will be much more in depth and have action between the reader and Fred (including fluff). Also, please note the TWs for infertility and miscarriage, which were not TWs in previous chapters. XO. PS: If your name is in bold, i couldn’t tag you.

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey @michaylahpfan27 @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl @louist-pics @pigwidgexn @snehkaaay @slytherinbth @laurrrtyyy

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 25th.

The Weasleys didn’t have all the money in the world for a lavish Christmas, but somehow, it was better to celebrate in their simple way. You sat on the sofa, your legs tucked beneath you comfortably. Taking a small sip of your hot cocoa, you watched as George stoked the fireplace.

“Happy Christmas, y/n,” Molly said as she entered, opening her arms wide. You gave her a warm hug, feeling the happiness simply radiating off of her. But inside, your stomach was in knots. Last night’s kiss with Fred was still fresh in your mind. He, on the other hand, was still sleeping.

You watched as Albus played on the floor with his new toys, looking over as George sat next to you. “Maybe next year...we’ll have another little Weasley on the way?,” Molly gave you a wink and you forced a smile. George put his arm around you. It made you feel ill.

“Mum,” George sighed. “You know we’re trying.” “Ah, well, getting there is half the fun I always say,” Arthur chuckled, sitting down with his cup of coffee.

“Arthur Weasley!,” Molly gasped. Again, the room filled with laughter. You snuggled further down into the sofa, glad to be distracted by the marshmallows swirling around in your mug.

_______________________

5 years earlier, November.

Gryffindor had won again, in no small part thanks to the Weasley twins. You took off running, your robes catching the wind behind you. You were practically bolting toward the twins as fast as you could. For a moment, Fred found himself smiling, allowing his mind to think you were running toward him. His forlorn face wasn’t apparent to you as you leaped immediately into George’s arms. You practically knocked George over as he twirled you around.

He laughed, taking in the scent of your perfume. “Hi, poppet,” he laughed, setting you down.

“My favorite beater,” you giggled, giving him a playful kiss. Leaning forward, you stood up on your tippy-toes to give his nose a little kiss. His whisper met your ear and you giggled. Fred had heard it, though, and he was sure George wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

“C’mon up to my room, love,” he whispered. Then he turned to his twin. “Hey, Fred, make yourself busy for a while, eh?”

George grabbed your hand and you took off toward Gryffindor tower, your stomach bursting with excitement for some alone time with George. Fred felt his stomach sink, jealousy brewing somewhere deep within him. He threw his broom down, eliciting a shocked look from the keeper next to him.

____________________________

Fred came down the stairs eventually. His red hair was tousled and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You caught yourself quickly, snuggling in closer to George.

“Mornin, all. Happy Christmas, mum,” Fred gave Molly a little kiss on the forehead, heading over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Well now that Fred has decided to arise from his slumber, we should get around to opening the rest of our presents, yes?” Ginny seemed annoyed with her brother, but that was not too unusual.

Fred sat down on the floor, busying himself with sipping his coffee. Neither of you dared to look at one another. It occurred to you that maybe last night had been a dream, but then you felt the tiny rug burn on your lower back and knew it was real. Your sweater had lifted up while on the carpet with Fred, giving you a small scrape.

Everyone busied themselves with opening their presents. Molly practically cried over every gift her children got her, including a framed photo of everyone from last Christmas. Meanwhile, George and Fred had gotten each other expensive bottles of whiskey, nearly dying in laughter that they both got the same thing for one another.

Finally, George handed you a small black box and your heart fluttered. “For you, princess,” he grinned, giving you a small kiss. Something behind his eyes still felt distant, but you pushed your doubts away. You opened it up slowly, revealing a stunning vintage locket. It was eighteen karat gold and engraved with floral detail. It was no doubt madly expensive. It was stunning, the lights from the Christmas tree glinting off of its surface. You clicked the locket open, feeling yourself tear up at a picture of you both from your school days.

“Oh,” you put your hand over your heart. George took the necklace from you and turned you around, fastening the clasp for you. Once he was back in front of you, he pulled him into a kiss. “I love it, George.”

“Again, happy Christmas, love,” he gave your hand a squeeze. But you found yourself reaching up to touch the cold medal around your neck, secretly wishing a photo of Fred was inside.

You looked up and caught eyes with the other twin. You stared for a moment, his brown eyes burrowing deep into yours. Fred broke his gaze. “I need a moment,” he mumbled, quickly rushing outside.

“What’s got his goat?,” Ron said, stuffing a cookie into his mouth. Everyone shrugged, except for you. You felt your heart crack just a bit as you looked at the door which had just swung shut.

“I’ll go check on him,” you offered. No one suspected anything, of course. You were always kind to Fred. Each member of the family had assumed Fred was just stressed about the shop, as was usual, and needed some calming down.

You headed out the back door, rounding the corner behind the Burrow. Fred was leaned against the small shed out back, tears streaming down his face. He saw you and buried his face into one of his hands, his other arm pulled across his abdomen.

“Go back inside, y/n,” he sighed, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe his eyes.

You dared to step forward, moving his hand away. “Fred.”

“Please, go back inside,” he gently moved you away from him.

But you pushed your luck again, stepping forward. He spun you around, kissing you with your back pressed against the cool wood of the shack. “Go back inside,” he repeated, the clouds of his breath floating up into the freezing air. A few tears remained on his cheeks, but they’d know somewhat rubbed off onto your cheeks. The winter breeze stung as it met the dampness. You kissed him again, and nothing about it was soft. When you and Fred kissed, it was as if you’d completely devour one another given the chance. Close was never close enough. He cupped your face in his hands, his forehead pressed tight to yours, your noses touching. “Go. Inside,” Fred repeated finally, and you slipped beneath his arms to head back toward the door.

“You’d best come in before they start to worry,” you said quietly, thankful you had decided against wearing lipstick that day.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

December 28th.

George sat across from Fred, counting that day’s deposit. Fred had poured them both glasses of the whiskey from Christmas. This was something they occasionally enjoyed, basking in the happiness of just being brothers together. Usually, they talked about nothing in particular. World quidditch scores, or the latest movie they’d watched. But today, George seemed tenser. Fred hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he was partially nervous that George had suspected something.

Fred tipped the bottle to top off his glass, taking a strong sip as George placed the deposit into the lockbox. He took his own swig, setting down his glass as he looked at his twin.

“She’s driving me bloody mad, Fred,” he said finally, shaking his head. Fred raised an eyebrow, realizing George was about to start ranting about you.

“Is that right?,” Fred adjusted his shirt a bit, undoing the top button. He was already nervous for what was to come, knowing any ill word against you would make his anger spark.

“I mean, fuck, we’ve been trying for months now to get pregnant and she can’t. I know it isn’t her fault but, hell, it sucks, you know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fred said quietly, swirling his ice cubes around in his drink as he moved his glass.

“And don’t even get me started on her being piss poor in bed, lately, neither,” George slammed back what was left of his whisky. He filled up his glass halfway again.

Fred felt his blood pressure hit the ceiling as if someone had set a Whiz Bang off in his brain.

“Ya know, I haven’t told anyone this, but she did get pregnant, a few months ago.” “How do you mean?” “Well, you know it….came away,” George frowned, feeling his throat get tight. “I just, ever since then, Fred. She doesn’t want to try anymore. I...I hate to admit this but, I’ve been...feeling less in love with her lately.”

Fred stayed quiet, unable to form a coherent sentence that wouldn’t give himself away. You were perfect to him, and imagining you curled up on a bathroom floor, experiencing profound loss, broke his spirit.

“It’ll all work out,” Fred gave George a friendly pat on the back. “C’mon, lets go down to the pub for a few with the boys, eh?” “Sure.”

Fred left the conversation there, forbidding himself to venture any further. Two can keep a secret, but he tended to be rubbish at it.

He felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling down at the screen. Your name had popped up with a short text message.

Miss you. Meet tonight someplace?

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x fem!reader

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

english love affair [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.1k ➽ summary: you attend the bronx school of science, and you’re immediately taken by the new student: ben perkins. ➽ warnings: deception ig? ➽ a/n: PART 1! no idea how many parts this is gonna be, but stick around! (taglist link is in bio)

As soon as you stepped off the bus, you heard the chattering that only came from one occurrence. A new kid. That confused you, though. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for kids to drop in halfway through the semester, but, at your school, it was rare. The Bronx School of Science was an elite high school and it took amazing test scores and the grace of God to get in, so a new kid in the middle of the year was a rarity.

You saw him the moment you walked into your first period chemistry class. After all, he was the only face you didn’t recognize. Dark, curly hair that was just a bit long, with rosy cheeks and wide brown eyes. He seemed nervous; as new kids usually were. He wore a red hoodie, his hands shoved deep into the front pocket, and he was looking all around the room. The seat next to him was empty and, while it wasn’t your usual place, there was no formal seating chart. “You new?” you asked, swinging your backpack to the floor.

The boy looked at you with a keen alertness in his dark eyes, and he swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he laughed softly. He sounded a little Queens, maybe; perhaps even Brooklyn. “Just, uh… Just moved here.”

“Nice,” you said. “From where?”

The boy clenched his jaw. “Queens,” he said, and you nodded.

“Well, welcome to the Bronx,” you laughed. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ben,” he said quickly. “Ah, Ben Perkins.”

“Ben Perkins from Queens,” you repeated. “What brings you here?”

Ben shrugged. “Parents,” he mumbled simply. Ben seemed like a guy of few words, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a welcome change from the other guys at your school who wouldn’t shut up.

You decided to not really say much to Ben. If he didn’t feel like talking, you didn’t want to push him and make him uncomfortable. The first day at a new school was stressful. “If you need help with any classes or anything, just let me know. Getting into the routine here is hard as shit.”

“Thanks,” Ben told you with a nod. “That’s quite nice.”

You couldn’t place why the usage of the word “quite” tickled the back of your brain. Maybe because you had never heard anyone use it like that. “You’re quite welcome,” you replied, biting the tip of your tongue. Ben looked at you and the rosiness in his cheeks grew deeper as he smiled.

The class started normally, until your teacher got to the Ps on the roll sheet. “Oh!” she cried. “We have a new student! Benjamin Perkins!”

Ben’s face grew red, this time not from laughter. He gave a quick two-finger to the class, and he mumbled, “Just Ben is fine, actually.”

“Welcome to the Bronx School, Ben,” your teacher said. “I’m sure you’ll do great here.”

About halfway through the lesson, you looked at the boy sitting beside you. He wore jeans and scuffed sneakers with the red hoodie, a dark curl bouncing along his forehead as he looked at the board and diligently copied notes. He was cute, a lot cuter than any boys you knew, and you wondered what he was like when he was in his element. His hands were big, veins popping as he gripped his pencil tightly. You took a second look at the mechanical pencil, and your heart soared. Quickly, you ripped a page out of your notebook and scribbled a quick “i like your pencil :)”, and you passed it over to Ben.

He tore his attention away from the lecture for long enough to look at your note, then at the pencil. It was red and blue with various white spiderwebs all around it. You liked the Spiderman pencil; your dad had practically raised you on the Toby Maguire Spiderman movies, so you liked anything Spiderman. In fact, you had been Spiderman for Halloween three years in a row when you were little. Not Spiderwoman, you said, Spiderman. Ben wrote something down and gave you the paper back, and you bit your lip as you read his message.

“spiderman’s pretty cool i guess. you like the movies?”

“yeah!! toby maguire’s awesome”

“cool. i like them too :)”

You invited Ben to sit with you at lunch, and he did. You usually sat alone, and you secretly liked having Ben there with you. You two talked about Spiderman, mostly: how Toby was a better Peter Parker but Andrew Garfield was the better Spiderman. “You know,” you started. “In the comics, Peter Parker becomes, like, an intern for Tony Stark. Tony makes him this suit and he becomes the Iron Spider.”

“Really?” Ben said. His eyebrows went up, and he scratched at a few upturned hairs. “That sounds cool.”

“I wish they’d add Spiderman to the MCU,” you added. “I think he’d fit really well with everyone, ya know? I mean, I guess they’d have to cast the right guy, but…” You shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

“Sure thing,” Ben said. “I like Robert Downey Jr. a lot, he seems really fun.”

“Oh, definitely!” you agreed. “And Chris Evans! Man, I’d love to meet them, I would just die right there.”

Ben smiled and nodded along with you, and he slotted his chin into his palm as he listened to you chatter about Avengers: Age of Ultron and Ant-Man. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and you stopped mid sentence when you noticed it. “I just think Elizabeth Olsen is so underrated, and-- Ben. You alright?”

Ben blinked a few times. “Yeah,” he said. “M’all good. Just listening to you.”

You flushed. “I’m not talking too much?” you asked, feeling the urge to sink into yourself. “I’ve been told I do that.”

“No, not at all,” Ben said quickly. “I like it. I like how people get when they get excited about something, you know? It’s cute.”

“Cute,” you repeated, rolling the word around your mouth. Did Ben just call you cute? Or did he call the whole concept of your dumb blathering about some movies cute? Did that still qualify as calling you cute? You raised your eyes to his and, nervously picking at a loose thread on your sweater, hazarded, “You think I’m cute?”

Ben shrugged. “I mean, yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You just seem so passionate about those movies. I would listen to you talk about them for a long time.”

“You wouldn’t want to.”

“I do,” Ben said quickly. “I promise you, I don’t mind one bit. I’d tell you if I did.”

You nodded again, and you scooted just a bit closer to Ben. “For the record,” you started. “I think you’re cute too.”

Ben smiled, little dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Cool.”

Before the day ended, Ben had given you his phone number. “I don’t have Snapchat or anything,” he said. “Strict parents, ya know? But I’d love to talk to you.”

You liked the way that Ben texted. He used a lot of emojis and even a few goofy emoticon faces, a la 2012, and he signed every text off with xx. With texting, you felt like Ben was a little more open than at school, probably because it was just the two of you, completely private. And, man, did the boy talk. He sent two, three, four messages in a row, just spewing thoughts the second he thought them. You didn’t mind one single bit, though; but your parents did.

Even though the sound was off and your phone was in your pocket, the entire dinner table could hear your phone buzzing. “Is someone calling you?” your dad asked. “Your phone just keeps going off.”

“Oh, no,” you said, your face going warm. Quickly, you pulled out your phone and set it completely silent, and the buzzing ceased. “Sorry. Just texts.”

“From who?” you mom asked.

“A boy from school,” you began, fully intent on explaining the situation, but your little brother was quicker to the uptake than you.

“Ooh, Y/N has a boyfriend!” he squealed.

“Shut up, you little fungus!” you hissed. Brothers of any age were unbearable, but 13 was an especially difficult age, you had come to find.

“Don’t call your brother a fungus,” you mom sighed. “That boy’s texting you an awful lot, though, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “He’s new,” you said. “Just asking questions about school and stuff.”

“And his name?” your dad asked.

“Ben Perkins,” you said. “He just moved from Queens.”

“He’s a senior?” your mom asked and, when you nodded, her eyebrows creased. “That poor boy, moving schools in the middle of his senior year. Well, good for you, making new friends. I bet he really appreciates you.”

Tom slumped himself down on the couch. You weren’t answering his texts and, while he knew that you probably had homework or were eating dinner or any number of other things, he couldn’t help the anxiety that filled him at the thought that maybe he had scared you off.

Tom hadn’t had a normal high school experience by any means. Sure, secondary school was a thing that was semi-normal, but normal in the sense that everyone around him was in the same boat. And he was certain that British secondary school was a hell of a lot different than American high school. Hence, the joke that had landed him here.

“It would be funny if I went to an American high school for a few days. Just to see what it’s like, ya know?”

Apparently, Anthony and Joe Russo didn’t seem to understand his British sense of humor, because he was on a flight to New York within the week. The Russos had helped him come up with the bare bones of a backstory: Ben Perkins, originally from Queens. American. 17. Quiet. It was a far cry from Tom Holland, originally from London, British, 19, and loud. But the Russos, in their infinite wisdom, had seen through Tom’s joke and understood something that was integral to the character that had taken Tom a few days to really see.

Peter B. Parker was a high schooler. A smart one, an unusual one, but he was still 15 and trying to understand himself and the world. Tom didn’t have that knowledge; at least, not in the way that Peter Parker would have had it. He needed to see the inside of an American high school to get to the core of his character, and even Tom understood that. The filming for Captain America: Civil War hadn’t started and the news of Spidey’s introduction into the Marvel Cinematic Universe hadn’t hit the airwaves yet, but Tom knew that, if his contract was to be upheld in the way that Sony and Marvel had promised, he would have plenty of time to use this high school experience to better the character.

Tom really and truly did not intend to develop a crush on a girl. Yes, a beautiful, smart, and funny girl that shared a love for the same things he did, but he was sure that the Russos would disapprove of it. After all, he was only slated to go to the Bronx School of Science for three days. There wasn’t nearly enough time to have anything more than a crush. But you. There was something about you, something intangible. He had felt a pull in his stomach when you first walked into the room and, when he had texted Harry about it, his brother had only laughed at him and made a joke about wanting to get his dick wet. And, yes, while that thought was in Tom’s mind, you were already so much more to him than that.

As much as Ben Perkins was a character, Tom felt like he could be himself around you. He had shared stories from growing up, mostly about his brothers pulling shenanigans, and had shown you pictures of him and Tessa when he had first gotten her. The little squeal and sigh that had left you when you saw the puppy made his heart swell. Then, he had said something that still made his stomach turn: “Maybe you can meet her soon.”

What a great fucking thing to say to someone that he would have to abandon in three days. Sure, he could keep texting you after he left, but he would have to explain everything to you. He knew what your reaction would be, too; somewhere along the lines of laughing at him and going, “Dude, you’re fuckin’ nuts, bro.” Or, on the other end of the spectrum, getting mad at him for lying to you. He was sure that you would be more mad than amused. And, after the conversation that you two had shared about your requited love for Spiderman, he knew that trying to tell you wouldn’t land him anywhere except alone again.

And, God. Tom was tired of being alone.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n angst #angst fanfiction #fluff fanfiction #tom holland fic #high school au #sorta??

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years

Photo

BIRTHDAY CAKE — RAPPER!JAKE HEADCANONS 🎂 🎁

anonymous asked: what do you think rapper!jake would get you for your birthday? warnings: mentions of sexual content & curse words. notes: i listened to the solo version of birthday cake by rihanna so join in if you want to <3 thank you anon for asking this okay ilysm whoever you are you’re so perfect! i wanted to post it when i was born but i couldn’t wait any longer! ps: the gifs are not mine, but i couldn’t find who made them since they were reposted on pinterest. i hope y’all enjoy the chain (and this too)!

why would rapper!jake get his birthday bitch, huh?

everything she ever dreamed of, of course.

birthdays would start at midnight and end at the same hour the next day, no excuses.

he would wake you up with gentle kisses along your shoulder. “good morning, angel, it’s your special day”. when was it not when you’re one of the biggest hip hop artists’ girlfriend?

you would protest, grabbing on his arms that were around you tighter so he would not move. but he did. he pulled the blankets of your naked body and helped you turn so you were laying on your back.

no matter how many years the two of you have shared together, you were always excited for what was coming next.

(pun intented)

jake would leave kisses down your entire body, making his way down to your core by leaving light hickeys.

your legs would slowly open up for him, and you would wrap them around his head when he finally reached the right spot.

he brags about your head game all the time, but boy got some sweet skills too. he has you mewling, whimpering, shaking and he’s only a few licks and gentle bites in.

by the time you’re close to the edge, he stops. “count down for me, baby.” so you count down from your your age to 0. i pity you if you’re like 35. rip @ your pussy. he doesn’t make it easy for you. he nibbles on your thighs, he leaves kisses absolutely everywhere. he dips his tongue in your wetness, teasing your hole (or both of them because why not? it’s your birthday, girl, be wild!). and when you FINALLY reach 0, you’re absolutely exploding.

you’re screaming his name. you almost forgot that what? five minutes ago? you were having sweet fantasy dreams of jake as a knight and you as the princess of the candy kingdom.

jake’s face emerges from your pussy, covered in juices as he gives you a playful smirk. “you’re just like wine, you taste better with age.”

and he’s got you laughing and trying to gently kick him.

he will deny you any attempts of paying him back. he’s got other things on his mind.

he sets you back under the blankets nicely and reach out for your nightstand, handing you your favourite plushie that you leave here at all times as he presses a kiss on your forehead. “just had my fave breakfast but i’m ,’bout to make some more.” he would wink. “whataya want?”

pancakes, waffles, froot loops, spaghetti, brownies, listen, you could have whatever you wanted.

you opted for waffles this year. and jake, who happened to be quite the talented chef, and before you could fall asleep again, he brought you a large platter of waffles, cut fruits and maple syrup with a hot chocolate.

you turned on the television and found some crappy reality television to watch. at midnight, it was either that or a marathon of pawn stars. on the screen, there were some old episodes of say yes to the dress. jake paid attention to your reactions in front of the dresses and the brides. he made mental notes of your preferences.

once you were done eating, you turned one of your favourite movies on. it was some disney film jake actually loved although he would never admit it out loud.

eventually, the sun started to rise outside.

and the fun was really starting.

jake listed what the two of you would do today: he would take you to the mall early so no one would bother you as you went from store to store, trying everything from prada, chanel, gucci and whatever you felt like it. and then, you would go for brunch. and then he would take you for a walk around the park. just the two of you.

and you did all that, while jake carried all of your shopping bags and helped you bring them back inside the mansion when it was time for a power nap.

the thing was: you weren’t sleepy.

and neither was jake.

he noticed that little sparkle in your eyes. he knew it so well.

you were needy. and even if, most of the time it would annoy him when he had better plans in mind, he let it slide this time.

he placed his hand on your head and helped you lean down on your knees.

you palmed at his growing bulge. you freed it from his pants and he went to sit on the couch. he let you entertain yourself, lazily sucking and licking his length when his other, much more important present, was being prepared outside without you noticing.

you cockwarmed him in your throat for a while.

“why you bein’ so generous to me? it’s your day, we gotta do what makes you happy.”

“you make me happy”.

HE COULD HAVE PUT A RING ON YOUR HAND RIGHT THERE (but after he came in your mouth, he had better priorities than marriage).

FINALLY you heard noise outside. you swallowed his load and licked your lips clean, crawling towards the large windows to take a peak of what was going on.

there was a lamborghini.

of your favourite colour.

bouquets and balloons were overflowing from the open doors and top.

your jaw dropped.

“i don’t even know how to drive?”

jake stood behind you and gently went to pet your hair.

“i’ll teach you.”

and you ran outside like an excited child, smelling roses and kicking helium balloons on your way. you sat behind the wheel and imitated the noises of the engine.

jake was so fucking in love with you.

he went to sit on the passenger seat and fixed the brakes, instructing you to press the pedal to rinse the engine safely.

he couldn’t even hear the vroom vroom over your happy giggles.

“it’s not over yet.”

jake got out of the car and went to your side, kissing you lovingly, his chain tickling your chest when he leaned forward. “follow me, angel.”

and you did. you arrived just in time, some friends had made it to the backyard where a gigantic cake and even bigger teddy bear were waiting for you. the teddy bear was holding a present bag with your favourite disney characters printed all over it.

everybody melted at the sweet thought.

jake suddenly switched in his attitude.

he grabbed something from behind the cake, a large jewelry box. he presented it to you.

you opened it.

there was a chain, similar to his, shining under the golden hour sun.

he put it on you as you let out a happy tear.

you shared the cake with your close friends. you were taking photos. posting them all over instagram. and fans were going crazy at the sight of jake looking so happy and relaxed.

people left.

you both started to run out of energy.

so you went to bed, it was almost midnight again.

and you made love. it was passionate, it was loving, it was sweet and it was incredible. it could not be compared to anything else jake has ever done to you. it felt as though your hearts were beating on the same rhythm. your eyes were locked the entire time as you both reached your high in this slow, but deep pace.

and when you finally closed your eyes to relax, jake managed to stretch his arm out and grab something from the night stand drawer.

you thought he was grabbing some bullet vibrator.

no.

it was an even smaller box than this afternoon.

“i bought this shit a long ass time ago,”

jake’s voice was cracking under the stress.

you encouraged with a gentle caress on his bearded chin.

“don’t fuckin’ cry or imma cry too.”

too late, you were both crying rivers. and chuckling. and shaking.

he did not even finish asking the question. he forgot the speech he prepared when he was eating you out earlier, thinking of romantic shit to say.

you said yes.

jake couldn’t see straight.

but he managed to put the ring on. it was the prettiest ring you have ever seen in your entire life.

after a ton of i love yous.

he found his phone somewhere on the bed and took a photo.

you looked awful and tried to cover your face with your hand.

“my bitch forever and ever happily ever after”.

he captioned the photo.

truth be told, he was so skillful that he did all of this without pulling out of you.

and he went at it again.

with more vigor. but with just as much passion.

“y’makin’ me feel so good wifey”.

perhaps wifey was the new bitch.

#jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal smut #topic: rapper!jake #completed requests #jake gyllenhaal x reader

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starl1ght-child · 4 years

Note

Hewwo again, if by chance your request are still open could you do a Lord Shaxx x reader? With “you look like shit” and “when was the last time you slept”? (to clarify Shaxx talking to reader) Shaxx don’t get enough love :3 Ps: your writing is amazing!

ough this is was a fun one! such a tough love but tender side of the big burly crucible handler. sorry, for such a delay, I hope you enjoy!

Lord Shaxx x Reader : A Place to Rest

You hadn’t been able to sleep much since Cayde died. It always felt like there was too much work to do. But really, it was the nightmares that kept you from rest. Phantoms that followed you on the Moon haunted your sleep. If you didn’t sleep, you didn’t have to be faced with your failure.

Since Cayde’s death and during your recurring nightmare induced insomnia, you found yourself spending more time in the Crucible, and concurrently, with Lord Shaxx. The Titan was surprisingly kind and tender, a completely different persona that you got to see when you two were alone. You teased him several times for going soft, especially on you. You couldn’t believe someone as decorated and infamous as Lord Shaxx could have a soft spot for you… that was, until you found yourself growing a soft spot for him.

He was one of the few people in the Tower who didn’t talk endlessly about Cayde. It was intentional, certainly, he knew how hard his death had hit so many Guardians. You were no exception. The two of you joked with each other all the time, you flirted with each other, and that banter kept you going. For a while, it kept your spirits up. But you were reaching a point where even the playful teasing was draining. Nothing could keep your spirits lifted for long.

Lord Shaxx must have noticed your changed mood. You were playing in the Crucible all hours of the day and night; you never stopped to take a break. Exhaustion had fried your brain, you were talking significantly less and you were running on post-resurrection fumes.

When you stopped by to pick up some new bounties, he told Arcite to take over for a bit and his hands clasped around your arms; he dragged you out of sight, but you didn’t have the energy to protest. Not that you could have resisted anyway, Shaxx was much, much stronger than you were.

“Y/N, you look like shit,” he scolded under his breath. You tried to wriggle yourself away from his grip. You really didn’t want to talk about this right now.

“Shaxx, really, I don’t have time for—”

The sudden touch of his hands reaching up to cup your jaw shut you up. His giant hands lifted your jaw and he studied your face from behind his helm, picking up on the dark circles under your eyes and heavy eyelids; your dehydrated complexion and weary gaze. You couldn’t speak as he stared at you.

“When was the last time you slept?” His voice was soft and filled with nothing but concern.

As much as you didn’t want to tell him, you crumbled. This was a different, clement side of him you’d never seen. The tenderness he was showing was making you melt. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “I-I don’t…”

“You do.” One of his hands cupped the back of your head and you leaned your cheek against the one that was still resting against your jaw.

“It’s been a long time,” you admitted. “Ever since the moon…”

“Maker, y/n… that was months ago…”

“I know, I know, it’s just… ever since we went to the moon… those phantoms…” You didn’t realize you were crying until he gently brushed away your tears. “They all look and sound like Cayde… I can’t sleep, every time I close my eyes…” You shuttered and hugged yourself, trying to back away and shield your mind from the visions of Cayde’s beaten body. “Every time I close my eyes… I’m stuck in that damn prison again…”

“Y/N, you still need to rest. You aren’t a help to anyone if you’re exhausted.”

“I can't, there's too much work to be done—”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, y/n.” Before you could ask him what he meant, he scooped you up in his arms and started to walk. Too tired to protest, you sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He carried you to a quieter area of the Tower; being carried in his arms the whole way was like being rocked to sleep. The room was like a private alcove. There was a lamp in the corner along with a very soft and comfortable looking bed. He flicked on the light, which filled the alcove with a soft, amber glow. Shaxx laid you down and pulled a lightweight blanket up to your chest.

“Shaxx… what is this place?” You yawned and gazed up into the face of his helm. You’d imagined a thousand times the man that hid behind it, but you respected him. You never asked to see his face. Maybe one day, when he was ready, he would show you who he was.

Shaxx’s hand brushed the hair off your face and the touch of his gloved fingers lingered on your skin. “A place to rest, y/n.”

A tired laugh left your lips and you rolled on your side; you gazed up at him and tucked your hands underneath your head. “So you… set up this little hideaway… for me? How long have you been planning to get me alone like this.”

“You haven’t been acting like yourself for a few weeks. I knew something was bothering you.”

“So you just… set this up without knowing that I haven’t slept in close to a month?”

“I started to notice your exhaustion last week. You’d barely spoken to me, the flirting stopped, and you never smiled.” His hand smoothed over your hair; the gentle motion was starting to lull you to sleep. But fear of being along, of having to face those phantoms alone, was keeping you awake.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked sleepily.

“Of course, y/n. There is no place I’d rather be.”

When you finally slipped into sleep, your dreams were the same dark, chilling nightmares that you’d been having for months. But you weren’t alone. This time, Shaxx was there, holding your hand.

masterlist

#lord shaxx x reader #shaxx x reader #destiny headcanons #destiny dating headcanons #star's writing #reaped-winnower #shaxx #lord shaxx

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comic-brew · 4 years

Text

Pieces

@whumptober2020 days n.4 Running out of time: Buried Alive and n.5 Falling (alt prompt)

Summary: The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

Notes: shitty au where basically TV Titans Jason has flashbacks of his comic-life, even though he technically haven’t lived any of them yet. How much this story progresses depends on if I’ll write a second ch. Beware of 2 different writing styles cause I started this way too long ago.

Reading time: 35 mins (4.4k)

Warnings: whump, panic attacks, being buried alive, self deprecating thoughts, angst, oxygen deprivation, PTSD (?), vertigo, falling, perhaps sth else I missed??

or read here on ao3!

ps. reblogs and feedback bring the author great joy uwu

***

“Hey, Jason” Gar greets after knocking and opening the door to Jason’s room just enough to peer his head through.

“How’re you doing?”

The boy waits but Jason doesn’t reply. He’s simply staring out his window, arms falling limply at his side, barely even registering the new presence in the room. Garfield bites his lip and invites himself inside and by Jason’s side. He glances at the boy’s rapidly moving, but hollow eyes, then at the view of the sky they’re aiming at.

“Are you still with us, buddy?” he asks.

He hesitantly runs a hand up and down in front of Jason’s distant gaze and that seems to do the trick.

Jason blinks, then shakes his head to rid himself of whatever thought he was so unnervingly engrosed into. Turning to face the green haired boy, he assumes the most carefree expression he can muster, forcing a halflit smile in a futile attempt to compose himself.

“Yeah, was just.. thinking” he assures, his eyes holding no emotion.

“ ‘Course… You sure you’re okay?” Gar presses, making little effort to conceal the incredulous frown his eyebrows are drawn into.

Jason shifts in his place while his hands clench and unclench, in an attempt to calm his discomfort and aggravation at Gar’s question, because he knows his teammate’s just asking out of honest concern. It’s not his fault Jason hasn’t slept in days and isn’t used to people checking up on him.

“I’m fine, dude, seriously.” Jason insists and Garfield knows better than to further inquire him “Now, did you want something?”

Fuck. Jason almost winces at how aggressive his words have come out. Gar blinks, opening his mouth to say something. Before his thoughts can materialize on the tip on his tongue, he seems to rethink what he wanted to say. That delay of course doesn’t go unnoticed by Jason.

God..Why does he always mess everything up?

As Gar’s about to speak again, the new Robin raises a hand to the green haired boy’s chest, stopping any word before it can reach his ears. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and I’m taking it out on you.” he huffs a bitter laugh “You don’t deserve me being an ass to you too.”

The boy’s brown eyes light up with understanding and relief and his tense shoulders physically relax at the confession. “Hey, it’s cool man. I get it.” he acknowledges, smiling politely and squeezing Jason’s shoulder.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t recoil from the touch, instead reciprocating Gar’s reassuring smile with an exhausted, but genuine and lighthearted smirk.

They both remain in that position for several split seconds, until Garfield finally retracts his hand to clasp his palms together as it dawns on him that he still hasn’t told his teammate the news he came to deliver.

“Actually I did come to tell you something” he announces, grinning widely and slightly fidgeting with his fingers “Rachel and I were thinking of watching a movie, you’re welcome to join us. You know, if you feel up to it.”

Jason takes a spare second to ponder and process Gar’s proposition. He steals a glance at the translucent glass of the window, separating his world from the towering skyscrapers and showering his neatly made bed in the soft gleam of the afternoon.

It would surely be better than staying there alone, falling into the inky depths of his eternal abyss.

Turning to face the boy whose eyes scour him expectantly for any indication of his intentions, he relents with a rather forced shrug.

“Uh, sure, I guess.” Jason says.

Gar’s face lights up and pulls into a joyous grin. “Cool… cool.”

He awkwardly shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and starts heading towards the door, stopping midway to listen to Jason calling out after him.

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

The green haired boy simply nods and subtly waves his hand goodbye, before he disappears into the hallway.

***

When Jason steps foot into one of the spacious living areas Titans Tower houses, there are three heads turning at the soft sound of his approaching footsteps where he expected to be greeted by two. The platinum curls flowing gracefully with the motion can only belong to one person. Well, at least one person they know.

“Rose” he sighs. “Didn’t expect you to come”

“Didn’t expect to come either” she counters, the corners of her lips twitching upwards in amusement, “But I guess this could be fun after all”

She is comfortably perched on a lovely armchair covered by smooth, pearl fabric, facing the flank of a matching couch. One knee bent and placed securely under her body, the side of her head is doused in the last dull afternoon light seeping into the room through the daffodil curtains keeping the golden sunset rays at bay. Rachel is regarding Jason with a mellow smile, sitting cross legged on the far end of the couch neighbouring Rose’s armchair and Garfield has already started fumbling with a rather ancient DVD player.

It’s a wonder how this thing still exists in a building where interactive holograms are a norm. But then again it wouldn’t be the oddest thing about this place.

“Well,” Gar begins, slightly groaning when the DVD port spitefully refuses to close, “We’re both glad you did join us. Now, take a seat ladies and gentlemen!” he announces with fervor when he finally manages to slam the port close, and gestures towards the unoccupied cushions next to the purple haired girl.

Jason takes the invitation gladly and flops down on the other end of the couch, closer to the hall he was in just a few seconds ago.

“What are we watching?” Jason asks.

Rachel turns her focus to him then, leaning her back on the couch and clutching a decorative pillow to her abdomen. “Gar found this, and I quote, 'apocalyptic masterpiece of censorship’ and insisted we had to watch it.” she grins, rolling her eyes at reciting her friend’s words.

Jason and Rose both snort at that as Garfield reaches the couch in a few quick strides. “Seriously guys, I have only ever heard about this movie from some pretty questionable sources.” he says giddily before sobering up again, clearly fussing over his discovery.

“We’re literally staring an urban legend in the face, guys!”

“Yeah, not like you hang out with the Titans or whatever” Jason quips. Seriously, how can a movie be more exciting than fighting crime alongside heroes? Than being a hero?

“Good point, bro. Good point”

Jason shoulders stiffen at the nickname, but only for a briefly awkward moment which Gar is more than eager to fill with more (unnecessary) information.

“Well, according to those guys the movie was banned shortly after its release and all copies were revoked and ultimately destroyed.”

“Clearly not all copies” Rachel muses before asking why the movie was banned in the first place. Gar mumbles something about it addressing some extremely controversial topics and offending some powerful douchbag before making his way to the middle cushion.

Rachel scoots over without even untangling her legs to make more room for him to sit.

Rose simply raises an eyebrow.

“Where the hell did you even hear about this stuff in the first place?”

Gar suddenly goes stills in his place on the couch. He runs a hand through his messy strands of hair before reluctantly providing an answer. “Uh… Tumblr?” he says while grinning awkwardly.

Rachel nods her head back slack-jawed, brows shooting up in a terrible attempt at showing understanding. Gar frowns as he then glances at Jason who’s staring at him with wide disbelieving eyes, the sound of Rose dramatically smacking her own face enhancing the atmosphere.

“It’s not that surprising guys, come on!” Gar protests, an exasperated sigh emanating from his lips.

At that, the three of them exchange deadpan looks before bursting out laughing. The laughter soon subsides into small giggles and high pitched breaths as the green haired boy smiles with content and leans above the mahogany coffee table to grab the tv remote.

“Well, friends, brace yourselves, for the most epic zombie movie to barely exist” he says, smirking as he plops back down on the leathern cushions.

On the screen, their reflections have given their place to the lean figure of a boy of asian descent in his 16s walking alongside a girl with dark complexion and luscious, auburn hair. A gentle, velvety voice surrounds them from the speakers and integrates them in the world the film is set in.

Time flows pleasantly as the story progresses with no interruption aside from a few enthusiastic inputs from a beaming Garfield.

The rest of the Titans are all gathered together in some other part of the Tower, once again excluding them from whatever plans they might be conjuring.

Because that went so well last time, Jason unwittingly ponders, quick to dismiss the thoughts lest those dreadfully fresh memories resurface.

But perhaps it’s already too late to whisk them away.

Jason gets up out of the blue, eliciting an inquisitive glare from the rest of the kids.

“I’ll just.. go grab some popcorn” he states vacantly, pointing at the hallway with his thumb without breaking eye contact. Truth is he needs a minute to recover from the intrusion of sensations he’d rather forget.

Plus, popcorn sounds nice.

“We can pause the film if you want” Rachel’s soft voice prompts, wording what has likely been dancing around the others’ minds as well.

“Nah, it’s cool. It won’t take long. I’m not going all the way to the Antarctica and back or whatever” he replies, fighting the nagging urge to roll his eyes and let the poison drip onto his voice. The kids nod and in a moment’s notice he’s gone.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Keeping up his pace feels abysmally hard. His head is reeling and his senses are swimming all around the place, reality feels like a fuzzy blanket draped over a newborn’s skin. Jason takes a few more carefully calculated steps before he stumbles on thin air. Careening into the wall he leans against the slick concrete on his flank until the world stops shifting enough for him to continue.

Somehow Jason makes it to the kitchen. He fumbles with the drawers, opening and closing them jerkily.

In just a few seconds the falling has progressed to the point where he can barely stand. He doesn’t think it’s ever been this bad the previous times.

Everything is spinning around. And when it all shifts upside down he’s falling from the marble to the ceiling, and when his skin and the asbestos are inches from colliding, the world tilts again like an hourglass that’s ran out of sand.

Just like that his descend is reset. Over and over.

He finds the popcorn bag in the last one and grabs it hastily. Only after the third attempt, the previous two ending shamefully with his clasp clutching piteously at empty air.

Dropping it of on the countertop it’s more muscle memory than will that redirects him to the sink. His fingers grip the knob, turning the water lukewarm, but as he lets it puddle on his palms he can’t feel it any clearer than a breath of a ghost on the back of his neck.

Jason splashes the water on his face but it ends up mostly on his clothes and on the ground. Gravity works funny when you have no sense of it.

His hands latch onto the edge of the sink and cling for dear life. The ledge, hold on to the ledge. His eyes open wide, they soak up the terror of the height. The terror of death.

The eerie reassurance of death.

The smog dissipates faster this time. But with it the distressing thought that it’s getting worse, that he’s getting worse, finds the chance settle in his gut.

Jason can’t do this anymore.

But he’s already been gone for a conspicuously large amount of time, and the thought of having to explain his reoccurring day-mares can’t even be entertained by his mind. So that makes a problem for another day.

The popcorn is ready in only a few minutes. Jason holds on to the sink for a couple more moments, taking deep breaths in and out, until his heart has stopped beating frenzied.

If they ask, he can always say he had trouble with the 'corn.

He can always say.

“Okay” he breathes out, closing his eyes as he informs nobody in particular.

“Okay I’m ready”

With that Jason grabs the bowl filled to the brim with the snack and disappears out the door. The journey from the kitchen to the smaller living area is nothing compared to the odyssey he went through following his departure from the lounge.

Once he sets foot back inside all heads turn towards him.

“What did I miss?” he asks, ever so cheerfully as he strides closer to the small den of couches.

One of them starts speaking, no doubt filling him in on the events that happened while he wasn’t watching. Whoever it is, Jason can’t concentrate on their voice enough to tell it apart.

On the screen, the boy is desperately gasping for air as he’s emerging from a moonlit grave.

The world spins out of focus, and before any of them know it the bowl has slipped through Jason’s limb fingers.

It has slipped, and it is falling.

***

The splintered wood pricks and stabs the sensitive skin beneath his shattered fingernails and the blood is threatening to leave his hands and drip onto his glacial cold face. His fingers hurt, they weren’t made as a shovel, they weren’t made to be penetrating wood, but they are doing exactly that, and he can’t acknowledge the piercing, burning throbs that travel through his veins to set the rest of his body aflame, because his lungs are burning, they’re flaring up more and more with every broken attempt at filling them up with air-

He has to dig, he has to keep going-

The last layer of polished wood finally relents, small pieces of it falling onto his raggedly, but once expensive, dandy suit. Blood is mixed with sweat on his palms, accelerating the speed with which it runs along his hands, tickling him while he scrambles for a breath of fresh air that never comes.

“N..o…” he croaks out and speaking is hard, his throat feels as the ash coated land left behind the passage of lava, and now he needs to cough, and he needs to breathe but there’s no air coming in, and frankly, he can’t decide whether it’s from the panic that has overcome him or because there simply isn’t enough oxygen in the cramped space he’s trapped in.

It’s not some prank

As if on cue the ground above him slightly shakes as the mud repositions and soil seeps through the open slit of the-

Of the coffin.

I’m buried alive…. I… I…, he realizes, ever so frantically.

And so his thoughts begin to plague him, the next one banging and clawing at the door of his mind before the previous has had the time to be stated, he’s hyperventilating and fairly so, he’s buried underneath 6 feet of soil-

Stop it Jason, get ahold of yourself. You made it this far because you never gave up, you won’t give up now either, a part of himself with a semblance of sanity left scolds him and orders his bloody hands to move, they grip the edge of the broken pine casket and pull with all their might.

The wooden seal cracks and Jason makes a supernatural effort to set it aside as it holds the weight of 6 feet of soil, his atrophied muscles protest by threatening to give out but it’s sheer determination that gets him to move on, he has to make it, he can’t die in there, he can’t leave, can’t leave his family.

Mud now openly drowns him from the huge whole in the lid of the casket, devouring every corner, sticking to every inch of skin and fabric.

He’s still gasping for air, his lungs and throat feel ready to burst and he’s dizzy, everything is spinning, but on the other hand 'everything’ is nothing more but a muddy grave and he’s still inside.

Almost frantically his injured fingers reach for the source of the soil. With jerky movements and all the strength he can muster he forces his hands through the earth. The stiff mud swallows him whole, lets the worms and maggots get tangled in his long strands of hair. Jason keeps his eyes and mouth stubbornly shut as he desperately struggles to propel his flimsy frame through the endless layers of ground.

He can faintly feel the darkness creeping in the corner of his mind, promising relief, promising safety. Those whispers sound tempting to his weak, grazed arms, to his blazing lungs-

The whispers don’t know that it’s not written in his DNA to yield.

His arms hastily swim through the wet mass that’s holding him beneath the surface, he can feel the dirt in his hair, in his ears, in his shirt, his pants, his everything. Maggots and caterpillars are crawling on his convulsed features. His heart is throbbing unnaturally loud, he can hear the thumping in his ears as his marred hands push and dig with painstaking effort.

Better hurry little robin! It ain’t fun if you die now, amiright boy blunder? HahaHA!

He’s digging, he’s trying, dyeing the earth crimson with his blood, please-

The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

He’s desperately gasping for a breath, just one breath to keep going, he’s coughing up phlegm and bile while his chest writhes and burns. He can’t help his mouth gaping in a last-gasp search for oxygen but the only thing entering his mouth and traveling towards his pricking trachea is dirt and rocks and… and…

…a feather?

A feather. He can feel it with his tongue, he can taste its sourness and almost hear a soft crunch under his teeth.

A feather. Robin.

He’s Robin, and Robin doesn’t die alone in an empty grave.

Robin fights. Robin protects. Robin wins.

With renewed resoluteness he forges ahead, his hand reaches where he supposes skyward is one more time.

This time, it’s met with the comfort of soft raindrops and the gentle wind blowing against his numb fingertips.

***

“-on? Jason!” Rachel calls at the sound of the metal bowl clattering to the ground, slipping right through the boy’s fingers and letting the freshly baked popcorn scatter all over the marble floor.

The girl exchanges a worried glance with Gar, before Rose gets up and marches furiously towards an exasperatingly unresponsive Robin, the popcorn crunching beneath her feet. She comes to a halt a few inches away from Jason’s hollow eyes and slaps him hard across the cheek.

The other two begin to protest loudly but Rose barely pays them any mind. She watches with pursed lips as Jason’s cloudy eyes regain focus and his hand shoots up to the skin gradually assuming the oh-so-wonderful shade of radish.

“Ow.. what the fuck?” Jason frowns at her while cautiously rubbing his cheek with his right hand. There’s no blood on his fingers, no mud on his skin. He can breathe.

Rose ignores his baffled query and simply turns to the two teens watching the whole scene play out from the safety of the cushions. She beams triumphantly as she announces smugly, “See? It worked.”

Jason, visibly annoyed by his incompetence to understand what the hell is happening traps her wrist in a vice like grip and tugs, forcing her to face him. She squints viciously at the gesture although she effortlessly pulls her hand free.

“Why the fuck did you slap me?”

The girl opens her mouth to respond, putting together a not so composed reply in her head -to put it mildly-, so it’s probably for the best when Rachel interrupts her train of thought.

“What happened, Jason? You completely zoned out”.

“Yeah, dude. What the hell was that all about?” Gar chimes in, nodding at the pile of popcorn by Robin’s feet and at the discarded bowl that has slid all the way to the edge of the couch he and Rachel are perched on.

“Wha..” Jason regards the strewn snacks with a quizzical look, as if he’s waiting for them to answer why they’re spread out all over the floor. Oddly enough, they don’t.

He fixes his still hazy gaze on his calloused hands next, his confusion manifesting in the form of furrowed brow.

He- he was-

no. He was never there. Always here.

His inviolate fingers are proof enough of that. But then.. is he losing his mind? Just like old Bertha, the old lady running around the theater, screaming that she had been kidnapped and experimented on by flying giraffes…. Not that it’s impossible with everything he’s witnessed the past year.

No, that can’t be it. He’s still shaken up from the fall right? It’s logical that he’s hallucinating about graves, he was seconds from ending up in one just a few days ago. It will go away right?

It will, it has to.

They can’t know, the street kid inside of him insists, they’ll throw you away like a broken toy. Broken..

“Jason, talk to us. What’s wrong?” Rachel is still staring at him, they all are. Her voice is laced with pity, they’re sorry for him. They’re pitying him, the bird that broke its wing and they know that now can’t survive on its own.

“What’s wrong with me?!” His head snaps to where her voice is coming from and the girl flinches at the bite behind his words.

“I didn’t mean- I meant you should perhaps tell Dick about it, he might be able to help” she stutters, her face bearing a deer in the headlights expression. Her gaze briefly meets with Garfield’s, perhaps to seek some backup. Somehow that angers Jason even more.

“Tell Dick? Really?” he snorts, “How about we tell Dick about that time you almost fucking choked me, maybe he could help!” he gasps mockingly. He is shouting now and the girl seems taken aback by the progression of his anger, gawking at him with a hint of sorrow tainting the indigo of her irises.

Gar stands up from his seat and approaches him, getting in the way of him and a Rachel fumbling for the right response to Jason’s accusation. The green haired boy extends his hand almost cautiously, it’s a simple gesture meaning nothing else than stop. It’s common sense, he knows he is going too far again but Jason’s common sense has jumped out the window. To him, they’re treating him like a wounded animal.

Perhaps he’s just projecting how cornered he feels.

“Dude, that’s enough”

“I’m sorry to break this to you, ” he points a finger accusingly at Rachel, “but Dick can’t fix everything like some kind of god you’ve made him out to be”

“Buddy-”

“He can’t fix you and your fucking razor blade tornado or whatever…” he keeps holding Rachel’s bleak glare gesturing wildly with his fingers and ignoring Garfield’s feeble attempts at making him stop.

“…and he can’t fix this” Jason concludes by pointing miserably at his head, then the rest of his body, until his hand drops limp at his side in resignation. His newfound rage has dissipated into downright bitterness.

At the far back the movie is still playing, forgotten. In the faint comforting light of the screen the girl with the auburn hair is kneeling in front of a stone cold body, burrowing her face in chestnut locks that would never grow any longer, as her shoulders heave sharply with every wreaked sob.

Grieving. Jason can still feel the three pairs of eyes -one consisting of one blue and an eyepatch- burning holes into the glimmers of tears stubbornly refusing to be spilt from his, even as he averts his stare.

There’s a deep pause after the abrupt revelation and the four kids are encompassed in a veil of tense silence no one seems willing to break.

Rose -who seemed rather amused when the yelling had started- is now solemnly inspecting the intricate patterns on the sheer curtains tucked to the side of the plate-glass window. Garfield is standing with his arms crossed protectively around his torso. Rachel has ceased to stare wide eyed like a freshly caught fish, however she’s keeping her arms close to her body and shifting awkwardly in her place. Her expression remains grim and her eyes dim, bearing an eerily sorrowful glint.

She puts her head down and eventually flies out of the room without another word. Consumed either by irritation or even guilt, if Jason has to guess. Gar spares no more than a defeated glance at her departure, otherwise maintaining his position by the abruptly deserted couch. He simply reaches for the tv remote, cutting off image and sound amidst a heated argument between the two leads. Damn this movie.

Deathstroke’s daughter looks between the two boys expectantly for half a second. None of them pays her any mind, too busy staring at the suddenly immensely intriguing floor.

“Nevermind, I’m out of here” she mutters through gritted teeth before getting down from atop the loveseat she had claimed and heading towards her own room.

Jason stares blankly at the scattered popcorn, but it provides no answer to the million questions dancing around in his mind.

Frankly, he didn’t expect it to.

Gosh. He’s so messed up.

Gar offers to help him clean up. He refuses. Perhaps Jason pushes him away just like everyone else. He’s got his own mess to clean up, first literally.

The metaphorical one might have just stained too deeply to remedy.

The night finds him placing the broom back in it’s place in the supply closet and sitting alone in pitch darkness.

Thinking of a grave that doesn’t belong to him, it never did, but it has his name on it. Thinking of the memories he shouldn’t have, piecing together how his heart only knows more fragments have been prodding at him, more broken pieces he doesn’t know where they fit.

The night finds him sitting alone in pitch darkness. Shivering, shaking with quiet tears.

Knowing he’d be undisturbed, alone, in the grave he’s built for himself.

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doctorgerth · 4 years

Note

Hi darling! Matchup part 2 fun for the win!! ☺️ Alice (obviously,🤣) as much as a loved all four of my choices I think I’m going to stick with X Drake. I have no good ideas to give you, as I’d love to see your creative liberty with this second half of the fun! PS: you’re amazing and I love you. 🥰😊

Okay, but for real, X Drake has really been growing on me lately. 😳😳 You are a lucky woman to be paired with him! I took your love for swimming and kinda ran with it...after all, DF users can swim in swimming pools! 🤪 Under the cut because naughtiness~ (ps: you’re more amazing and i luv u more xxxxxxx)

“Come in, the water feels nice.”

Drake smiled at you as you rose like a mermaid from the water, your wet hair slicked back making you look utterly stunning, even though he was sure you’d think otherwise. As if it wasn’t hard enough to keep his eyes off your figure in that tantalizing bathing suit...He removed his shirt before diving in, giving you your opportunity to ogle at his toned body and feel a tingling sensation ignite within you. You could never get enough of that sight. His entrance splashed you, removing you from the trance you were in as he was quick to swim up to you and wrap you in his arms.

“You’re right, this does feel nice.” He cooed as he nuzzled into your neck, “Thank you for bringing me out here. The water feels very relaxing on these tensed muscles.”

You two swam for hours, splashing, dunking, and racing one another like two restless kids as you took advantage of having the pool all to yourselves. It was a great opportunity for you two to relax with one another, but the activities had you tuckered out after a while and you retreated to the shallow end of the pool, sitting on your knees to take a breather and watch the sun set.

As the sun disappeared, the lights illuminated the pool, casting an aesthetically pleasing blue to illuminate the both of you in return. Drake stared at you from the opposite wall, his eyes glowing dark even from a distance. You two exchanged intense eye contact for what felt like eons and you felt undeniably lustful under his stare. Your body ached in anticipation on who would make the first move. Just as you were about to give in to the pressure, Drake stirred in the water. With slow movements, he pushed himself off of the wall and began swimming towards you, floating obscurely atop the water like a crocodile coming in for the kill. You’d gladly be his prey.

He took his time swimming towards you and you swore you’d have him pay for making you wait so long. Drake could be a tease when he wanted to, and he always made sure to make it damn near agonizing. When he finally reached you, he settled himself on his knees before you and pinned you against the pool wall underneath his massive figure that adorably dwarfed you. His hands made way to your waist as he hovered above you, lips parted as he stared shamelessly at yours, “Can I kiss you?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and fought the toothy smile that stretched your lips. Polite and charming as ever. “I’d be sad if you didn’t.”

With that, his lips crashed onto yours with utmost passion. Drake always gave his all in his kisses and they constantly left you breathless in the aftermath. Yet, you craved more and more as if you desired him to consume you entirely. He secured your legs around his waist and it was an exhilarating feeling to feel just in between being supported by him and freely floating in the water. Something stiff against your thigh caught your attention and suddenly the water felt unbearably warm.

Drake’s hands roamed your body, creeping up and up until he tugged at the straps of your swimsuit top. You arched your back to give him access to the ties and he welcomed the invitation as he bent down to litter your chest with kisses. He expertly undid the knot while you untied the neckline at the same time. With ease, your top was removed and began floating aimlessly atop the water. He blushed profusely as your tits spilled out for full view and access, as if he wasn’t the one ravaging you just moments before.

Holding his face between your hands, you could feel just how heated his skin was, “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

He smirked a little as he brought your waist down onto his hardened cock, grounding it mercilessly into your thinly clothed sex as you cried out into the open air, “I wouldn’t dare.”

His large hand pushed your back up, encouraging you to arch once more in order for you to display your chest out for his hungry eyes. He immediately dove in, attaching teeth, lips, and tongue all over your mounds while he slowly but powerfully humped into you. Your head fell heavy against the concrete and you floated limply while Drake lovingly attacked your chest and rocked against you. He attached his lips onto your pert nipple, sucking and nibbling on it till you were moaning his name wildly, completely ignoring the possibility of anyone hearing you. The water began splashing violently around you as Drake increased his thrusting speeds, and the overwhelming desire between the two of you was all-consuming, leaving you two yearning for so much more than this wet foreplay.

“Drake, please.” You whined breathlessly as your fingers curled into his arms in desperation. He released you from his mouth with a slick pop. His thrusts decreased in speed with each movement, but were still very much present. He stared down at you with equal breathlessness as he struggled with holding himself back; you just looked so enticing all disheveled and flustered.

“Do you want me, love?” His lips were parted, a small smirk just barely present though his eyes were suggestive enough to his real intentions. You rolled your eyes, yanking him down towards you for one more searing kiss, “More than anything.”

Needless to say, you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom before you could give in to your desires.

#doctorgerth #one piece #one piece romance #scenario #imagine #1000 follower event #follower event #part 2 #ns.fw #sinful #filth #x drake #drake #alice #drake x alice #alice1290

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ratwrites · 5 years

Text

My Girl :REQUEST:

Masterlist.

Requests.

Requested by: @babycasiplier

Request: Hey love, idk if you're taking in any requests but can you do something with Killian, where him and the reader are together at like a tavern and some guy starts flirting with the reader and starts to get touchy with her and killian just snaps and gets all protective and possessive over the reader? Maybe add some fluff in there too? Please and thank you! Ps I absolutely love your writing, its sooo good!

Warnings: Implied Smut at times, angst, fluff

Pairing: Killian Jones X Reader

Word Count: 6,013

A/N: Hi. I'd just like to say that I got this request and started writing it instantly lmao. I had a little too much fun writing this and I actually like how it turned out. Idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but I couldn't help myself ;-; Thank you for requesting!!

The thought of nearing an unknown land soon made your heart quicken its pace. Sailing had always been a treat, but seeing the destination was always much better to you. Even though you'd been sailing for years you always found the land more interesting than the sea. You sat up in the crow's nest your eyes scanning the blue horizon for any form of land. Your heart dropped slightly when you couldn't see anything. "(F/N)!" Your attention turned down to the deck. Without hesitation you carefully made your way out of the nest and back down onto the deck.

"Yes Smee?" You questioned, coming to stand in front of the first mate.

"The Captain wants to see you," Smee instructed.

"Couldn't call for me himself?" You chuckled, pushing past Smee. You glanced at the helm and quickly made note that he was below deck. With that you headed down finding yourself in the Captain's quarters. His back was toward you as he gazed out of the large window and to the sea. His hand and hook her held nearly behind his back.

"You wanted to see me Hook?" you called, catching his attention. He turned his head partly giving you a side eye.

"Yes. Come stand with me," he ordered, calmly. You did as you were told and came to stand on his left side. You gazed out of the window with him. The ocean sparkled in the sunlight actually hurting your eyes. You looked down and away from the window.

"As you know we will be docking soon," he began, breaking the silence that had formed over the room. You nodded dragging your gaze up and to him. He still wasn't looking at you.

"You will stay with the crew tonight," he finished. Your heart dropped further.

"What?" You gasped, turning to face him with your entire body. When you docked you normally went out and explored. Killian didn't really mind what you did as long as you kept strange men off of his ship. Yes, like him, you enjoyed the company of strangers, but recently that had changed. For a few months you'd been trying to catch Killian's eyes. So far you'd failed.

"This village is- well it's-" he paused, trying to think of the proper phrase.

"Women shouldn't be left unattended," he explained, hesitantly. You frowned drawing your brows together. Killian knew very well that you could handle your own.

"And what makes this town different from any of the others? I can handle myself Killian," you protested, crossing your arms across your chest.

He finally looked at you once more. You could see the annoyance flashing through his eyes. "You are staying with the crew," he repeated, turning to face you as well.

"I am not some feeble woman Killian, I don't need protection!" You continued.

"(F/N)!" He snapped, grabbing hold of your arm. The contact set your skin ablaze.

"This isn't about you being weak. Gods knows you can handle yourself, but for once in your bloody life do as your told," he growled.

"I need to know that you are safe," he added, barely above a whisper. You swore you heard him wrong as he released your arm. You took a step back from Killian as he turned away again.

"Fine, I'll hang around, but you better make it worth my while," you challenged. His head turned partly back to you a side smile crossing his face. He turned to face you again and approached you.

"Oh I will," he purred, his breath fanning over your face. You held your composure even though everything in you was melting. He stepped back and left without another word. You exhaled sharply not realizing that you had been holding your breath. Your excitement for land had returned at Killian's words. You cleared your head as best as you could before returning to the deck.

...

The crew hollered happily as the boat docked into the village. "Let's hit the tavern boys!" Killian called, coming down from the helm. More cheers roared from them as they all began to make their way off of the Jolly Roger. You went with them unboarding with Killian directly behind you. You paused on the dock taking in your new surroundings. This port was actually quite busy for the size of the village. You assumed it was bigger than it looked.

Killian's hook came around the bend of your arm as he drug you forward. You grunted catching up with him. You removed his hook from your arm. "I can walk you know," you huffed."That's the problem," Killian responded, lowly. You rolled your eyes and stayed close to him. The further you walked into the village the more you realized how scarce it was to see a woman out and about. The few women you saw were all accompanied by a man and each one of them seemed terrified when you looked at them. This peaked your curiosity, but also confused you.

"What is up with this place?" you whispered, leaning into Killian as you walked.

"Hush love. Leave any and all talking to me," he replied, sharply. You frowned again giving yourself some distance from Killian. You had no intentions in sticking by him the whole night you never did and neither did he. He always had a woman at his side while you found whatever you could. You put a little more distance between yourself and Killian. Your gaze ran over a young girl maybe fourteen carrying a basket far too large for her. Before you knew it she fell sending all of the items in her basket sprawling out across the ground. You didn't think, you moved.

You rushed to the girls aid falling to your knees and helping her scoop up her escaped items. "Here," you said, kindly placing them back into her basket. Her eyes were wide with fear. You raised a brow and continued to help her.

"Are you alright?" you asked, picking the basket up for her. You carefully handed it off to her. She nodded not saying a word.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing to my daughter you harlot!" A rough hand suddenly grabbed you and spun you around. You own hand swiftly came to rest on the hilt of your sword. You pulled free of the hand.

"I was simply helping her, do you have a problem with that?" You asked, hotly.

"Watch your tongue girl or I will have it removed from your head!" The man snapped. He advanced swiftly on you, but didn't make it. Killian was in front of you in moments and his crew was standing to the side.

"Easy mate," Killian warned, holding his hand and hook up slightly in surrender.

"Is that your harlot?" The man snarled.

"Aye so be careful how you treat her," Killian answered. Anger boiled in you at the term harlot.

"Learn to control your bitch or she will be controlled for you," the man growled. You moved forward and readied to draw your sword but Killian stayed your hand and body. With one motion he turned you and pushed you away from the man following after you. This time his hand rested on the center of your back.

"I told you (F/N), stay with me and don't speak to anyone," he growled. You shook his hand off.

"She fell Killian, what was I supposed to do just leave her there?" You snapped.

"Yes," Killian responded. You went quite anger still boiling in your blood. You were beginning to wish you were still at sea.

...

The tavern was in view. You couldn't wait to down a few pints of rum. You needed the buzz in your system right now. The doors of the tavern swung open as a large group of heavily intoxicated men exited. You and the crew slipped past them and entered the busy tavern. You'd been in some loud places, but this was insane. There wasn't a woman in sight besides the barmaids who were poorly dressed and miserable. The room was full of drunk men brawling and laughing. You stayed close to Killian seeing the sudden need to keep your head down.

You normally weren't shy, but the atmosphere made you nervous. You sat down by Smee as everyone placed themselves at the only empty table they could find. Well, mostly empty. Three women approached the table all of them young and beautiful. They passed out drinks to each of the men leaving you empty handed.

"A drink for the lady please," Killian called, stopping one of the women. She seemed petrified that he'd even suggested such a thing. The young girl hesitantly handed you a drink. You nodded your head and took a gulp of the rum enjoying the pleasant burn it sent down your throat.

"Cheers!" Smee chirped. The men agreed clanking their cups together before taking drinks of their own. You took another drink eyeing some of the men in the tavern. A very large percentage of them were hideous and very drunk. You sighed and rolled the bottom of your cup along the table.

"Anyone for dice?" One of the crew suggested, setting down a small container holding two dice.

"We aren't drunk enough for that! We've barely begun!" Another chimed. Laughter rang out causing the tavern to be even louder. You enjoyed a good few rounds of dice once you could barely stand. You downed the last of your drink and waved down one of the women who brought you another.

"Thirsty love?" Killian teased, finishing his own and doing the same.

"Gotta drown the anger somehow," you replied, honestly. You took another drink. Since you joined the crew you'd learned how to hold your liquor well. You always regretted it in the morning but it took a lot to get you drunk. Unlike some of the men who only needed two of three pints of rum you could hold a decent amount before you and Killian were competing on who was more drunk.

Your eyes landed on a particular man who was hidden away in a corner. He seemed to he alone, but he was clearly eyeing you. You had to admit he was a fairly attractive man from what you could see, but you never trusted the ones who sat alone; you also had one goal for tonight. You had yours sights still set on your captain. He'd told you he'd make this night worth your while and you intended to hold him to that.

...

You'd downed multiple drinks finally noticing the buzz you wanted. You weren't drunk per say, just a little light headed. That was fairly normal for you. You'd held back on drinks once the dice came out. A few rounds had been played and you'd robbed each crew member of at least a few silver coins each. You didn't exactly play fair, but neither did any of them. The laughter that spread from your table had drawn the attention of some of the other occupants. Before you knew it a few strangers had joined your game. To your own surprise no women had joined your party. They normally flung themselves at Killian as soon as he had at least three drinks in his system, but not tonight. The women were afraid each one huddling away until they were called upon. You'd seen one get dragged out by a man and you quickly assumed it wasn't for good reasons. She'd returned later with tear stains down her cheeks. That set you off and caused you to down another.

You scooped up your winnings as the currently round ended sticking your tongue out playfully at Killian who had lost six gold coins to your unfair dice hand. His eyes narrowed challengingly at you and you laughed. You noticed the eyes of the strange men burning through you. It obviously wasn't a good thing that you'd robbed them of their money as well. You tossed your hair back dramatically and the crew laughed at the sulk that crossed Killian's face.

"What's wrong Captain? Losing to a girl?" You teased, running your boot across his lower leg. His body responded slightly as he shifted his legs bringing them closer to yours under the cramped table. You knew exactly what you were doing.

"You are just having a stroke of luck love, don't get too cocky," he responded, trapping your boot between his knees as you moved it up. You giggled and pulled your foot free.

"Another round?" Smee slurred, holding the dice in his hand.

"Definitely," Killian said, his eyes on you. Everyone placed their bets in the center of the table. Smee started the round challenging one of the strange men. Smee rolled a four which wasn't exactly the best.

The man rolled getting a ten. With cheers from the strangers he collected Smee's bet pocketing it. The stranger then challenged you. He rolled the dice landed on eight. You mentally cursed yourself. Normally if the opponent got a high number to start you could kiss your bet goodbye. You took the dice not missing the stroke of his fingers across your hand. His skin made you cringe slightly. You looked at Killian and rolled. "Twelve!" you cheered. The crew hollered as well as the man growled practically tossing his coins at you. You ignored the hostility and gathered your wins tucking them safely into the satchel on your belt.

"Alright Captain, let's see what you've got," you purred, readying yourself to roll. You rolled waiting impatiently for the dice to stop.

"Six!" Smee called, as the dice stopped. Killian took the dice his eyes locked on you. He went to roll. You played your game and raised your boot suddenly pressing it between his parted legs and against his inner thigh. His body jerked causing his roll to falter. You only smiled slyly as it landed on four.

"I'll be taking that," you purred, scooping your wins. As you did so your foot moved a little higher daring to brush him through his leather pants. Once you gold was safely stashed you removed your foot entirely just as his hips shifted forward to try and meet you. You held a smug smile on your lips as you noticed the strain in his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing. Some of the crew giggled amongst themselves and you could tell they knew exactly what you did.

"I'm done," one of the strangers grumbled, standing abruptly and stumbling away.

"What a child," you scoffed, challenging another man. You rolled and sadly lost your bet which meant you were out of the game. Once you lost your bet you were done for that round. You stood as well and stretched.

"Where are you off to?" Killian asked, his foot touching yours.

"I'm off for a drink, I'll be back," you explained. He frowned.

"Relax Hook, I'll be right over there," you chuckled, pointing to the tavern's counter. You left the table and headed to the counter taking a seat. You noticed that the women were gone leaving no service. A man slipped behind the counter giving you a strange look.

"What can I do for you?" He questioned, his tone dry.

"A pint of rum please," you answered. He didn't move.

"Tonight preferably," you huffed. He scowled before hurrying off to get your drink. Another stranger dropped down in the seat next to you.

"Don't women have a curfew for when their pretty little heads go back home?" He rasped. A curfew? Seriously? You rolled your eyes.

"I'm not from around here," you answered, blandly not bothering to look at who ever was speaking to you.

"You should address me when I speak to you," he growled. You lazily turned your head toward the man.

"Again mate, not from around here," you huffed. You turned your attention back to the counter as the bartender set down your pint. You took it and drank quietly.

"What a tough girl," the man cooed, scooting a little closer. You drank again.

"Such a pretty little face being wasted," he added, scooting even closer. You grew uncomfortable and scooted away.

"Come now darling. If you're going to break our laws you might as well give us something in return." The tone of his voice almost made you sick.

"Why don't you back off mate. I am not interested," you warned, taking another drink.

"Oh you'll be interested dear. If you aren't then I can have you arrested," he purred. You yelped as his clammy hand slid around your waist squeezing your side. You reacted quick and slid off of the chair and out of his grasp. You skillfully took your drink with you taking another sip.

"Don't walk away from me whore!" He snarled. Before you could react he latched onto you forcefully removing your drink from your hands. He was twice your size which made it difficult to get rid of him. He sat you back down trapping you with your back against the counter. You hissed slamming your fist against his stumbled cheek. He withdrew for a moment but recovered in time to catch you pinning you back in place. He forced his body between your legs keeping you there. You tried to hit him again, but he swiftly grabbed your hands and pinned them with one of his own.

"Get off of me you shark!" You snarled. His free hand slid down your body caressing your side and resting on your inner thigh. He tried to kiss you, but you headbutted him sending him backwards. Your own head stung from the blow. You stood up and fixed your clothes before heading back to the table. Before you reached the table he grabbed you again pulling you flush against his hard body.

"Hey mate! You've had your fun now let her go," Killian's voice echoed, threateningly behind you.

...

Killian had been in torment since they stepped off of the ship. Every part of him wanted to pull her back into his quarters and have his way with her... After admitting how he truly felt. He attached his hook around the bend of her arm not wanting her to wander. He'd been here a few times and he knew the strict rules with women. He couldn't risk losing her, but he knew he couldn't leave her on the ship either. His original plan had been to pass by this village, but the ship was running low on supplies and the next villages was two weeks away. He understood that they couldn't hold on for two weeks. She pulled out of his grasp drawing his gaze to her. "I can walk you know," she protested.

"That's the problem," Killian responded. He knew her all too well. If he took his eyes off of her for one minute she'd be gone. He walked briskly next to her keeping his stature strong and as threatening as possible. He didn't miss the eyes that wandered in her direction, but quickly diverted once they realized he was looking at them.

"What is up with this place?" She whispered, leaning against him.

"Hush love. Leave any and all talking to me," he answered. That wasn't going to happen. Killian kept walking his attention getting distracted by some of his crew. He joined in on their conversation answering some of their questions about the village.

"Where are all the girls?" One whined, looking around.

"Women aren't valued here like they are in other villages. I'd keep your eyes, hands, and thoughts to yourselves lads," Killian suggested.

"What the hell are you doing to my daughter you harlot!" Killian's heart dropped. He did exactly what he told himself he wasn't going to do; take his eyes off of her. He halted and turned back. He took off searching for her and easily finding her.

"Watch your tongue girl or I will have it removed from your head!" a man yelled, at her. Killian jumped in front of her defensively. The crew had followed him, but he paid no mind to them.

"Easy mate," Killian growled, holding his hands up slightly. He didn't want to cause a fight.

"Is this your harlot?" the man hissed, leaning threateningly toward Killian. Anger clawed at Killian, but he swallowed it.

"Aye, so be careful how you treat her," he warned. He had no intentions on letting this man harm her.

"Learn to control your bitch or she will be controlled for you," the man growled. Killian saw her moved out of the corner of his eye. He reached back staying her. He turned his back to the man and pushed her sending her in a walk away from the situation. He splayed his hand along the center of her back knowing that the man was still watching.

"I told you (F/N), stay with me and don't speak to anyone," he snapped. He wasn't angry at her he was angry at this village. She was a free spirit and she hated being told what to do. That was one of the many reasons he'd grown to love her, but it was also frustrating in a place like this. She pulled away from his hand.

"She fell Killian, what was I supposed to do just leave here there?" She argued.

"Yes," Killian answered, blandly. He could see the gears turning behind her eyes and that worried him. By the look on her face she was going to get herself into trouble.

...

The crew entered the tavern allowing Killian to keep you in the center of the group. The noise didn't bother him a bit, but seeing your head fall did. His anger toward this village only grew. He directed the crew toward a decently clear table sighing as she sat across from him. A small group of women brought them drinks. He didn't fail to notice that they hadn't given one to her. "A drink for the lady please," Killian boomed, startling one of the women. Once she had her drink he held back a laugh as she instantly began to gulp it down.

"Cheers!" Smee called, drawing Killian from the trance he'd slipped into. He held up his cup clanking it with the member nearest to him. He took a drink sighing as the burn soothed him. He took another sip.

"Anyone for dice?" One of the crew suggested, bringing out the dice.

"We aren't drunk enough for that! We've barely begun!" another answered. Killian laughed in agreement along with his men. His eyes stayed on you as you downed the rest of your pint. That was fast.

"Thirsty love?" He poked, downing his to match her pace.

"Gotta drown the anger somehow," she replied. Killian pushed down the guilt that tugged at his gut. He waved for another following your gaze briefly to a stranger in the corner. His heart sank. He hated when you looked at other men, which was hypocritical of him since he almost always had women at his sides. He didn't want to admit it to himself but the only reason he did that was to hide the truth of how he felt about her. He drank bringing his full attention back to his crew.

...

The crew had reached the drunk point where dice came to play. The point of the game was to eliminate everyone from the game until only one player was left standing. Two people would roll for bets and whoever got the lowest number was kicked from the round. He loved dice, even though he was horrible at it. That's why he never played fair. To his own demise he'd lost multiple times now specifically to her. She was damaging his ego. "What's wrong Captain? Losing to a girl?" She purred, her boot touching his lower leg. Killian responded instantly scooting further onto his seat and parting them slightly. His skin tingled where her legs were pressed. He knew her game and he was more than willing to play.

"You are just having a stroke of luck love, don't get too cocky," he answered. It wasn't luck, it was cheating, but he knew that. Her boot slid further up his leg and he captured it between his knees. He grinned as she pulled it free.

"Another round?" Smee suggested, his intoxication evident in his voice.

"Definitely," Killian challenged, meeting her intense gaze. He placed his bet along with his crew and the strangers that had joined them. They'd occupied the other end of the table. Smee started the new round losing straight off of the bat. Killian scoffed watching as the stranger took his bet and challenged her. The stranger started off good catching her with an eight. Part of Killian hoped she would lose, but she didn't. He was impressed with your roll, but that meant that you were still in.

"Twelve!" she chirped, drawing cheers from the crew. Killian frowned as the man slammed his bet down at you. Killian's frown disappeared as soon as her face turned to his.

"Alright Captain, let's see what you've got," she murmured, a sly smile crossing her expression.

"Six!" Smee called. Killian had high hopes. He snatched up the dice his gaze not leaving hers. He readied himself to roll for a win. His went to move, but heat suddenly slid between his legs. His hips bucked as their own will causing him to let go prematurely of the dice. The smile on her face grew. Killian's stomach turned over at the excitement that washed through him.

"I'll be taking that." Killian's eyes sealed shut for a blissful moment as her foot slid a little higher daring to touch him. His eyes snapped open in disappointment as her foot disappeared. He almost groaned, but bit it back. The smug smile she held made him want to kiss it off of her face. He heard the snickering of his crew which caused his cheeks to darken slightly. He bowed his head for a moment regaining his composure. Killian watched as one of the strangers grumbled and left the table.

"What a child," she commented, continuing on with the game. He watched happily as she finally lost kicking her out of the game. He opened his mouth to remark on that, but her standing cut him off. All snide comments he was going to make faded as worry hit him.

"Where are you off to?" He asked, reaching out to gently touch one of her boots.

"I'm off for a drink, I'll be back," she replied. Killian frowned hid concern staying.

"Relax Hook, I'll be right over there," she giggled, her finger directing his attention to the counter. He watched her saunter over to the counter and take a seat. His gaze didn't leave her until Smee tapped his shoulder.

"Another round?" His poor first mate was smashed. He sighed and nodded. He started the round off knocking one of his crew out instantly. He was so much better at this game when she wasn't playing. That made him chuckle. He rolled again knocking Smee out as well. He was surprised Smee still had coins to bet! He rolled again this time getting knocked out and losing two gold coins to one of his crew.

"Get off of me you shark!" Her voice rang in his ears. His worried attention was swiftly drawn to her. Something in him snapped at the sight. Killian stood up abruptly and stalked toward them.

"Hey mate! You've had your fun now let her go," he snarled, deeply. The man looked at Killian keeping her flush against him. She was squirming.

"What are you going to do about it, Pirate?" The man mocked. He was done. Killian hooked his fingers around her arm and tugged her free of the vermin in front of him. He slipped her behind him and swung his arm hitting the man with the tip of his hook. The man howled and fell back his hands coming to to his cheek. Killian wiped the blood from the tip of his hook.

"Touch her again and I'll separate your head from your miserable shoulders," he threatened, reaching behind him and touching her hand. She began to intertwine their fingers, but Killian pushed her aside as the man lunged. Killian took the hit his back slamming against a wooden beam in the room. The man slugged Killian, but Killian didn't let that slow him down. He brought his knee swiftly against the man's crotch. As soon as his head came down Killian smashed the curve of his hook against the man's skull. He pushed him back onto the floor scoffing at the body sprawled out in front of him. He reached up and wiped the crimson blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Anyone else want to lay a hand on my lass?" Killian growled, pulling you to his side.

No one moved. The man slowly returned to his feet. He charged at Killian again, but was to slow. Killian slipped behind him and slid his hook around the man's neck bringing him down onto his knees.

"Killian!" She yelped.

"That is enough! Leave, all of you!" the bartender shouted. Killian shoved the man down onto his stomach.

"Let's go men," Killian ordered. His crew gathered their drunken selves and left the tavern. Killian took hold of her hand and led her out as well. He walked in a raged silence toward the ship. She kept up with him staying close against his side. They boarded the ship. He didn't leave room for protest as he took her down into his quarters. He placed her on the edge of his bed.

"Are you alright?" He demanded, his voice coated with rage and concern.

"Killian I-"

"Did he hurt you?" He cut her off, coming close and looking her over. He took note of the bruise forming on her forehead. She flinched slightly.

"Killian!" She grabbed hold of his hand and hook holding him in place. Looking into her eyes calmed him.

"I'm fine. I'm not hurt," she soothed. He could clearly see her body trembling.

"I'm so sorry love..." He grumbled, now angry with himself. He sank onto his knees in front of her. He sat between her parted knees his head hanging low.

"I never should've taken you in there." He was beating himself up. He'd never experienced panic like he had when he saw that man on her.

"Killian it isn't your fault. I'm okay, really," she insisted, still holding onto his hand and hook. Killian lifted his head to see tears pooling in her eyes. She was shaking more now. He assumed that whatever reaction she was having to this was coming late. Killian slowly stood back up and separated her hands from his own. He moved further between her legs and wrapped his arms around her pulling her close. Her arms snaked around his lower back drawing him even closer as she buried her face into the leather vest covering his stomach. She was crying. Killian curled over her engulfing her.

"Easy love, you're safe," he soothed, rubbing small circles into her shoulder blade. She'd been with a lot of men, but none had ever attacked her like that. After a few minutes she let go of Killian and he respectively stepped back. He'd forgot about his bleeding lip until it was dripping down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand smudging it across his skin.

"Oh Killian, you're bleeding." She was on her feet in moments.

"It's nothing love. I've had worse," he assured. She went behind his desk and opened the bottom drawer pulling out a cloth and some injury oil that they'd come by in the Enchanted Forest. He shook his head.

"You don't need to-"

"Sit," she ordered, pushing him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. He plopped down and she sat next to him. She opened the cap to the oil bottle and placed the rag over it. She soaked the small part of the rag and set the bottle aside. She reached up and cleaned away the blood on his lip. Killian couldn't take his eyes off of her. His expression turned soft and all of his anger seemed to fade the longer he looked at her. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest. For a moment he swore she could hear it. She applied pressure to the cut on his lip to help stop the bleeding. She didn't have to hold it long before the cut gave up.

"There," she said, softly. She set the rag aside next to the bottle and met Killian's gaze. Her eyes were still wet from the tears. Killian made a choice. He raised his hand to her face and used his thumb to carefully wipe away the leftover tears. He wanted to lower his hand, but he found himself resting it across her soft cheek. Her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't deny himself or this any longer. With ease he brought himself toward her. To his own surprise she finished the move closing the distance between their lips. Butterflies exploded throughout Killian. It was amazing.

They'd never kissed before and he was glad they did. Nothing had ever seemed so right to him. It was stranger to him because this was the first kiss he'd had that held no lust behind it only sheer love and passion. Her hand met his intertwining their fingers. They finally broke their kiss their foreheads resting together.

"Killian? There is something I've been meaning to tell you.." she began. He smiled gently and shifted so they were looking at each other.

"I love you," Killian interrupted understanding what she was intending to say. She brought their lips together again causing the settling butterflies to spark again. He almost whined when she separated them again.

"I love you too," she murmured. She wrapped her arms around Killian's neck and pulled him close. His arms slid around her back trapping her there. The hug was comforting to Killian and everything he'd ever wanted. In this moment he couldn't want for more.

"I couldn't let that man hurt you..." He admitted, suddenly. She pulled back eyeing him softly.

"It-" he sighed with defeat.

"To see someone doing that to you... It- it enraged me. It broke me.." He looked away from her. He was admitting things he never thought he'd have the guts to admit.

"That's why I never let you bring your company back to my ship," he mumbled, shyly. She raised her brow at him.

"And all the women you brought back?" She asked.

"They- were a distraction... From you," he admitted.

"I was too cowardly to tell you how I felt in case the feelings weren't shared," he continued. She giggled.

"That is why I enjoyed the company of other men.. Because I was too afraid to tell you how I felt," she said, resting a hand under his chin and bringing his gaze back to her.

"My heart belongs to you Killian." She pressed a soft kiss to his lips for a brief moment.

"And I want to give you your heart's desire." They kissed once more before they fell into another hug. The cabin was dark with the night.

"I should get some rest," she suggested, eventually pulling herself to stand. Killian didn't move. He didn't want her to leave.

"Stay with me love," he pleaded, taking her hand in his own. She smiled and sat back down on the bed. He shed his coat, vest, and boots before crawling further onto his bed resting his head on his pillow. She followed removing her own boots and her corset before making herself comfortable against his side. Her head found its place over his heart which was beating ninety miles per hour. Her hand rested on his tunic fiddling with the soft material.

"Goodnight Captain," she yawned.

"Rest easy my love."

Forever Taglist

@elainqueenoffireandroses @xaviersmutcnt @raindrops-on-roses142

#killian jones #killian jones x reader #captain hook x reader #captain hook #ouat #once upon a time #x reader #fanfiction

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shadowdianne · 3 years

Note

I deserve a fic for all this pain :(

A/N So this is assuming M has told you a little bit of the side characters they’ve already encountered. By side characters I mean the two that I most proud of since they are this insanely devilish power couple: Akta and Thyria who I wouldn’t recommend to drink or eat from anything they might offer but they are just *so* fun to roleplay as. If she, however, hasn’t mentioned them by name don’t worry: I’m also setting this in the AU so any possible context needed is loose against the knowledge of the campaign.

M, since I know you’re going to also be reading this I left a couple easter eggs for you to pick from the actual campaign :P

Ok, with that said on we go. You mentioned how you’d love to see Freya being hit on and something about Jericho reacting to that, uh? 😉

PS: My long-time mutuals will tell you that I always do a little bit what I want to whenever it comes to following a prompt in terms of details. Take it as some kind of mischief on my side of things. Nevertheless, hope you like it.

-.-

“Freya!” Name rolling off their tongue Thyria approached the half-elf while navigating through the quite full small café at the very beginning of the Promenade they had asked her to meet. Eyes glinting and smirk widening when nodding towards the flustered waitress that had been finally been left alone by a family of halflings, Thyria extended their arms in a silent request for a hug the other answered to before being attacked by two air kisses that ended just as quickly as they’d commenced; the culprit promptly sitting in front of the chair the druid had left vacant when she has seen them enter in the place as if they owned it. “Sorry for the wait, darling, was it too much? I needed to do a couple of errands and you know how busy those can be sometimes in this city.”

They looked just as pristine as always, Freya thought as she too, followed Thyria, sitting back now and smiling quickly at the dotting waitress the other one had waved to seconds before. Ordering a black coffee, Thyria tilted their head before returning their eyes back to her, dark skin glittering with silver-like dust that freckled their cheeks with every movement; the sigils written on them carefully applied on top of the glitter and running from their forehead to below their eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” She replied, an easy smile on her lips. It had been some time since she had had the opportunity to see Thyria, their frequent travels, and intent on staying next to the southeastern side of the continent making it difficult for any kind of meeting. Looking around, half expecting to see Akta entering the café with the same sauntering-like way in which Thyria had done mere moments prior, Freya frowned slightly. “I thought you were coming with Akta, didn’t you mention you both were coming here?”

The Tiefling had indeed mentioned how she wanted to see her as soon as both she and Thyria arrived, the missive she had sent promising at least a lunch so they all three could talk longer than the usual short yet intense missives they were used to. And yet, no sight of purple skin nor black eyes Freya had half been waiting for. The other in front of her chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and answering with a soft, purring “thanks” to the waitress as the girl left their coffee in front of them. Long fingers taking the silver spoon offered next to the beverage, Thyria stirred the drink clockwise twice before stopping, drawing a warming sigil before leaving their drink rest for a moment longer.

“They never prepare it hot enough.” They commented as they eyed Freya, brows rising in mocking contrition. “And Akta won’t be today: She needed to do some meetings for what she told me. But perhaps I can make her forget some of her… more earthy needs by tonight around 8? A late dinner perhaps?”

Freya hummed and nodded once as she watched Thyria take a sip of the coffee, twist their lips, and leave the cup on the table once more, fingernails tapping against the table in slight impatience. Moving slightly closer and reaching for Freya’s shoulder, the other brushed off something from the lapels of the shirt the half-elf wore, index tucking in-between the crease of the clothing before moving away as they chuckled, whispering theatrically while doing so.

“I also wanted to have you a little bit more for myself though. I adore Akta, as you know, but she can sometimes be a little… intense.”

Freya responded with a chuckle of her own at that. Akta could indeed be intense, in the sense that she only seemed ready to talk about business rather than do small talk in where stakes were naught, and nothing seemed to be about the impending sell of one’s soul. Once a merchant, the half-elf supposed, always a merchant.

“Well, of course.” She replied, eyelids fluttering a little, easing on the soft flirt Thyria always seemed ready to share at any given moment. “I’ve also missed you, as you know. Shame, however, I had invited…” She halted for a moment as the door of the establishment opened once more, Jericho stepping in while leaving behind a group of three students, members of the last batch of Bards if the symbols on their robes and obvious youth were anything to go by. Following her eyes, Thyria propped their head against their left hand, rising the cup to their lips and blowing on the now bubbling coffee.

“I was thinking where he was.” They mentioned, rising the cup and making a circular motion with it that got Jericho’s attention, his eyes wandering quickly to Freya before he, too, muttered his order to the same waitress as before. He had promised Freya that he wouldn’t be long; the packet he had needed to retrieve from the Skyport an easy errand that wouldn’t require far too much time. He, however, seemed tired than when she had last seen him that morning and the half-elf groaned inwardly, worried for the man that had now come to them, motioning towards the empty chair that laid in-between them both.

“May I?” He said. His question was an open one, but his eyes were on Thyria, the other motioning carefree as they helped themselves with their coffee. Coffee that Freya realized seemed to be refilling itself slowly but surely. So that’s had been the reason of the stirring…

“Suit yourself” Thyria replied, smirk intact, gold and black lipstick curving. “We were talking about you, actually. Anything new that you can gossip about, dear? You never answer to my letters…”

The Tiefling sat, moving cat-like while eyeing Thyria despondently. He didn’t have a problem with them perse: Freya knew. But there was always the tension coiling around his shoulders whenever they were in their presence that made her confused. Black blouse moving as he extended his right arm towards the back of Freya’s own chair, the Tiefling muttered a quicker thanks than Thyria’s had been, the tea in front of him fragrant and charcoal-like.

“I’ve been busy.” He offered, almost biting into his words. “But nothing I can say, really. Same contracts as ever.”

Thyria hummed, raising the cup and winking at Freya from between the steam that kept on rising from it. The druid rolled her eyes in response, pressing her back more firmly when Jericho made a circular motion with his middle finger on her back.

“Everything ok?”

She nodded, hair tickling against her face: she had recently cut it and she was still getting used to the sensation.

“How about you, though?” She asked out loud, eliciting a humming response from Thyria. “Anything that you can share with us?”

While looking at her, Thyria seemed to be amused by something else beyond what Freya could see, eyes twinkling in delight as they moved forward once more, grasping Freya’s right hand with hers and pressing two fingers on the inside of her palm.

“Found the reliquary we had been searching for, actually.” They offered, moving away as Jericho stirred at Freya’s side, his black boots stomping for a moment against the floor of the place. Slight trembling on their bottom lip, Thyria seemed to sigh into their coffee before stirring it counterclockwise. “It didn’t have the sequence of words of power Akta was hoping to find but she is positive that there’s must be some connection with it and, you know, the political climate at the other side of the sea.”

Well, those were indeed good news. Or whatever truly meant good news for the couple. Laughing and moving towards Jericho now, Thyria seemed to do a double-take before tilting their head to their side, shoulders rising slightly.

“Maybe you can join us, next time we go out, Freya. We might need you out there.” Before the druid could answer, thinking already if Ireena would be amenable to that, Thyria shook their head and rose, their right hand going towards Jericho’s chin, who their capture between their index and thumb. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. You can come too.”

The Tiefling didn’t answer to that, lips thin and fire growing on his eyes as the other sighed and looked at the silver circlet around their arm, a small star-like symbol appearing on it for a second before disappearing once again.

“Seems that I need to rush for now though. Akta must be bored of her meetings already. I will tell you later, yeah? So, we can see how and where to see each other. Ta-ta.”

And so, they left, as quickly as they had come, barely leaving Freya the option of rising to thank them for the small yet intense chat.

“I wonder if something happened…” She mussed as Jericho, finally, seemed to relax, blowing on his tea and muttering some infernal curse words when he realized that, inexplicably, the drink had gone ice-cold.

“For the cold shower.” The drink displayed amidst the congealed leaves.

#disaster party #the tag that keeps on giving #Freya #Anonymous

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blehbleehhhh · 5 years

Text

Bubble Gum ft. EreMika❣️

A lovely reader requested a super sweet fluffy modern childhood fic that I'm really excited to share! Hope you'll enjoy. ❤️

ps: my mom calls me ladybug, just humor me.

The sun was a blazing fiery ball, twinkling its peak midday golden rays over a small sleepy town and the playground where local children congregate when their parents send them out to play. Titan's Fury Park happens to be one little girl's favorite place of solitude where she can steal away if only for a moment to add drawings to her sketchbook since there are many beautiful places to sit that never fail to inspire a doodle or two. Somewhere in a small group of boys are her two best friends playing a very competitive game of football. Mikasa has witnessed it herself many times, where Eren will rub it in Jean's face that his team had won the game by aggressively throwing the ball into the grass, while Armin sits on the sidelines feeling uninterested in the sport, but he'll keep score as he reads one of the many books off his shelf that's most likely already been read.

The precocious, green eyed boy was instructed by his mother to keep watch over Mikasa, who later stubbornly insisted that Armin and Eren do their own thing since she fully intends to work on filling her sketchbook instead of playing. But one of the local girls who only recently started to pick on her had other plans. "Where's your cute friend?" Annie inquires, blowing a small bubble with pink gum as she stands confidently before the girl sitting cross legged on a bench. Mikasa sighs with irritation, deepening the shading on her closeup tree bark sketch. "Hey, I asked you a question. Look up from your stupid scribble book." But the girl remained strong and ignored how demanding and harsh these words were being spoken to her by such a blunt person, carefully smudging a spot on her sketch with the pad of her pinky. "Excuse you," Annie hisses under her breath obviously feeling impatient as she suddenly grabs Mikasa's long hair with a truly evil grin. "You know, you really have such beautiful hair. It would be a shame if you had to cut it." Her victim frowned and reached for her hair only to have it painfully tugged in retaliation, making her whine in discomfort as she holds her scalp protectively.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that, because I'm not cutting it."

"Uh-huh, where's Eren?"

"I don't know!" Mikasa rushes to say as her hair is tugged once more. "Why?!"

"Because I think he's cute and I want you to talk to him. Aren't you his sister or something?"

"Not by blood..."

"Tell him that Annie thinks he's cute."

"Can't you do that yourself?!"

"It would be so much more fun to see you do it. And if you don't, I'll destroy your sketchbook."

"Fine..." Mikasa reluctantly agrees, shyly darting her eyes from Annie's stoic expression. "I'll talk to him later."

"Thanks." Annie smiles as she spits her gum out on her hand and smushed it with raven hair, rolling the wad around between her hands to mix everything together. She snickers to herself as she walks away, leaving Mikasa with stinging eyes and a quivering bottom lip already feeling humiliated to the point where her cheeks and the tips of her ears felt hot. It was with a heavy heart that she gathers her belongings and holds them to her chest as she takes off running in search of Eren, the one who she always has and always will turn to in stressful situations.

Eren was found playing football with his friends like she anticipated, but he's currently on the ground after being tackled aggressively by Reiner and Jean for the ball. Armin cheers for his friend from the sidelines while Bertolt, Marco, and Connie watch intently to learn the final score of their fourth game. "HA! I GOT THE BALL! CONNIE! CATCH!" Jean roars with laughter, cackling triumphantly as he rushes to throw the ball at Marco not far away to finish the game in their favor.

Until they heard truly hysterical crying.

"ERENN!" Mikasa cries, her voice wailing his name at the top of her lungs as tears streamed down her face. He immediately sits up from where he was laying in the grass recovering after being tackled so aggressively and his heart sunk to see her so distraught.

"What?! What?!" Eren hurried to his feet and stumbled a step as he runs to embrace her. "What happened?! Why are you crying?!" She looks up to meet his concerned and inquiring gaze with watery eyes, her tears making him cloudy until she blinks them away.

"Someone was mean to me and and -" She coughs suddenly from crying, making her cheeks even hotter with embarrassment. I don't want all this attention! Her foot stomps angrily. "She put gum in my hair!" Dreading the consequences of Annie's actions, Mikasa bursts into tears because she knows that she needs to have this obnoxiously large wad of gum cut from her hair, when she happens to love how long it's grown to barely above the waistline of her long skirt. Eren's blood boils with anger and the look in his eyes is one that only someone close to him would recognize. It somehow made her cry even more to feel validated that what happened was indeed a horrible thing. He sighs deeply to keep his cool and studies at the wad of gum in her hair, holding it carefully in his hand.

"Who did this do you?"

"It-" She sniffles and takes in a few involuntary breaths as her body tries to settle itself, his fingers releasing her gummy hair. "It was Annie. She was telling me to tell you that she thinks you're cute, when she just squished her gum in my hair!" The embarrassed little girl sighed with sorrow as her best friend wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently brought her in for a hug, letting her cry into his shirt. He glanced up at Jean, who just gave an understanding nod to let him know that it was more than okay for him to skip out.

"Figures," Eren sighed as he rests a hand on the top of her head the way his mother comforts them at home. "Annie asked me the other day if I liked her and I think she meant the like like way, so now she won't leave me alone," He maintains an arm around her shoulder and gives a small wave at his friends while they go over the score together and rehydrate. "Come on, Mika, I'll take you home."

"But I want you to stay here. I can walk home by myself..."

"I know you can, but I want to be there for you when you're, like, sad and bummed out. Those guys understand."

"But why?" Mikasa's voice was soft and her breathing has already begun to settle much to his relief.

"Because you're my best friend and I really really hate seeing you anything but smiling. It's beautiful," Eren smiles at first until he realized what he said, and it make him chuckle awkwardly. "I mean you're beautiful. I-I mean.." But it was too late. His slip of the tongue has already made her giggle amidst her soft sniffling as she wipes the tears staining her cheeks with her fingers. He swallows hard and his face grows hot, but her laugh always makes him smile. No matter what. "Never mind." She tucks her hair behind her ear and plays with her fingers anxiously.

"You're so funny, Eren.."

"I wasn't really trying to be funny, but thank you." He chuckled as they came up behind his mother outside while she was gardening, who did a double take and immediately dropped her tools in the flowerbed, running over to Mikasa terribly concerned. "Hi, Momma, someone was mean to Miki and put gum in her hair."

"This will never come out!" Mikasa whines, stomping her feet in the grass as she looks down at the wad of gum and hair, trying desperately to untangle the gooey mess with her little fingers to no avail. Carla frowns as she carefully takes the girl's hands in hers and holds them while Eren wipes tears from beneath her eyes. "Aunt Carla, I don't wanna cut it!"

"Mikasa, I'm so sorry.." Carla opens her arms to offer a hug that was happily taken. "This does need to be cut out, ladybug, but it'll be alright. Your hair will grow out before you know it, I promise." She gently pats the little girl's back before pulling away to stand up, offering her hands for both children to take as they followed her inside the house. "Why don't you two wait for me by the sink so I can find a pair of scissors?" She says as they enter the kitchen, their little hands departing from hers while they run to the sink together and little sneakers squeak on the hardwoods. Carla soon comes over with scissors in her hand and a sad look on her face because she has to cut these beautiful raven locks. Mikasa sighs softly as the scissors were positioned to cut above the gummy mush. "Hold still, okay?" Raven hair drops silently on the kitchen floor as the scissors slowly work their way around her head, leaving her with just as luscious shoulder length hair. "You cutie pie, look at you!" Carla smiles as she sets the scissors on the counter and carefully runs her fingers through Mikasa's hair to make certain all of the gum has been removed. The little girl offers a small smile in return as she wipes her tears from beneath her eyes.

"It actually feels good to have my hair cut.."

"I'm so glad that you like it."

"Thank you for fixing my hair. Eren was right, you do have super powers."

"Mikasa!"

"Oh, my sweet baby boy," Carla laughs and brings the embarrassed child in to plant a kiss on his forehead and ruffle his hair. "You’re in desperate need of a haircut as well, but I can take care of that later. Why don't you take Mikasa back to the playground?"

"Will you take me?" The little girl turns to her friend with a hopeful look and he simply grins.

"Will you smile for me?"

"Okay.." Mikasa smiles and found her cheeks to be hot when his face immediately lights up in response. Before she knew it, his hand was in hers and they were well on their way back to the park. It was still hot outside from the midday sun, its blinding rays invading their vision frequently, but Eren still manages to spot blue wildflowers growing along the sidewalk. He stops and his heart races as he picks the flower for her while she's far enough ahead not to notice. "Eren? Where are you?" She hollers, turning in a slow circle to see him running up to her.

"Sorry! I'm right here!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Eren smiles as his ears grew hot, twisting the tiny flower stem with his fingers behind his back. "I'm great. Are you okay?" He asks as they start walking once more, the park in clear distance.

"I'm..I'm good. Your momma is so nice."

"She's pretty cool, but so is your momma. And your dad is so funny."

"Yeah, he is. Your dad is silly, too." Mikasa giggles, her sneaker kicking a rock out from her path. "I know you're angry at yourself for not being there and I just wanted to say that you don't need to be so hard on yourself. It makes me sad."

"Yeah, well, it's true. I'm sorry Annie is so mean to you now."

"I think she's jealous that you and I are so close."

"Probably, but who needs her? You're way cooler than Annie anyway." Eren smiles, her giggle gracing his ears once more as they make their way to the swing set. She sits gracefully on a swing and he takes the one beside her, still twirling the blue flower he picked for her between his fingers. "Mikasa?" He turns to look at her and swallows hard to gather his nerve.

"Hm?"

"I...I like your hair short," He smiles shyly and they both blush as he scoots his swing closer to hers. "I mean, I like it long, too, but you look really pretty with it short." She grins, his hand raising hesitantly to push hair behind her ear and gently tucked the flower in that gap. But then, Mikasa did something he hadn't ever anticipated her doing and leaned in, clearly feeling slightly unsure as she kisses his blushing cheek.

"Thank you, Eren.."

"You're welcome," He smiles as their swings separate and stands up so he can be behind her. "Can I give you a push?"

"Yeah!" She says excitedly as her legs kick the air.

"Okay," Eren laughs in amusement as he pulls her swing back and pushes her forward. "Here we go!" She giggles as she's pushed, and he can't help but think about how cute she is no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

"Push me higher, Eren! Push me higher!"

"Anything to hear your laugh again." And with that he gives a harder push to her lower back, making the swing soar even higher. She cheers in excitement and giggles as her short raven hair blows in the breeze, holding the blue wildflower safely in her hand against the swing chain so it doesn't get lost. They remained this way for a while, just enjoying each other's company and sharing many laughs knowing that there will be more in the future.

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