#let's get these idiots stressed and fuck around with their accents :)
Note
I saw a headcannon once that Curt and Owen both have very strong Texan and Cockney (London working class) accents respectively, but have to use toned-down generic American/British accents when on the job. Do you think you could write something of them drunk, injured, sleepy, or stressed (basically in a scenario where theyre not thinking too much about their accent) where it slips out, and either confuses or entertains the other? Thanks! (also i love your writing so much its insane :D)
I have bought into this headcanon before, both sides of it! Working class Owen is something that can be so personal, actually, and full on cowboy Curt is so goddamn fun! Certainly will be good respite from the last fic 👀
Curt was bleeding and barely capable of holding himself together. He'd forced himself to keep face, not looking down enough to be able to see it. It was bad enough that he could feel it, sticky and viscous against his hand. That alone was enough to make him feel nauseous, but he was a professional. He knew how to deal with wounds without feeling the need to pass out.
Owen did as he always did. For him, it was just another part of the job, be it his own blood or someone else's, it was all the same when it came down to it. He had been the one to patch Curt up often enough, it was practically routine. This instance was no different.
With Curt suitably positioned, leaning back against his hands, Owen found the kit he needed and got to work. Curt dug his hands into the sofa to avoid having any kind of reaction to the stitches.
"I think you're lucky..." Owen remarked, laying his hand either side of the wound. "A few inches further down and you could say goodbye to ever charming a lady to the bedroom again..."
Curt tried to huff a breath of laughter, but that did nothing for him except make everything hurt more. "Ugh, god, please don't try an' be funny, I can't handle it-!"
Owen knew that Curt had always had a certain lilt to his words, some kind of intonation lost to time, but he'd never quite heard it like that before. He said nothing, but thinking about it had made him falter. The needle slipped a little, and Curt cursed under his breath.
"Jeez, Owen, ya couldn't take it easy?" He hissed.
No, he hadn't been hearing things. Curt really had slipped into a far more prominent southern twang than was normally present in his voice. One that he never even thought he'd hear from him. "Of... Course, I'm sorry." However surprised he was by that, it didn't stop the task at hand, or the need to finish it before it became too hard to see through the blood that was pooling.
Curt raised an eyebrow. "What'cha lookin' at me like that for?"
"I knew you were a southerner, but I didn't know it was supposed to be that obvious..."
"Wha-? Oh, fuckin' hell." Disappointment and something close to annoyance lingered on his face. He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I grew up in Texas. I tell people Austin, but that's just cos it's easier than sayin' some nowhere town 'bout fifty miles out."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Huh?"
"You don't seem particularly happy about it."
"It's just, I spent weeks on tonin' this accent down so I wouldn't stand out so much when I was on the job, y'know? All that, then it just goes an' comes back when I'm not thinkin' 'bout it..."
Owen nodded, and pressed down a little harder to alleviate some of the sensation from the needle. "It's a stress response, reverting back to accents that don't take so much strain to uphold." He answered automatically, feeling Curt shift a little bit under his hand.
"Right. Yeah. Somethin' like that."
"You don't have to think about it at all— you presumably grew up sounding like that... So you're focusing on something like the pain of being shot, and suddenly-"
"I'm seventeen again, and I sure as hell sound it, too." This time, Curt did manage a chuckle that didn't seem to hurt so much. Maybe it was because Owen was almost done patching him up, and there was less cause for every alarm bell in his body to be blaring... "Yeah, that's pretty much spot on."
"Would it make you feel any better to know that I have exactly the same stress response?"
"I'm sorry, what now?"
Owen didn't elaborate. He worked on finishing up Curt's stitches, and then started cleaning the needle and packing up the kit. Completely baffled by not getting a response, Curt held up a hand to stop him before he could move away. "Woah, woah, hold on. You're tellin' me you don't sound like that either?"
"It seems we've both been lying about exactly the same thing." A soft smile crossed Owen's face, and he simply decided to discard the kit on the coffee table for the time being. He'd played right into Curt's curiosities there, he supposed, so he might as well play into them a little more...
"I wanna know now!" True to his person, Curt remained ever the curious one. He carefully replaced his shirt, and leaned forwards as much as the pain would allow. "What d'you sound like? Where are you from?"
Owen raised his hands. "Would you let me clean up before I told you that, please?"
Curt resigned with a nod, and followed Owen from the sofa with a glance as he wandered away to wash his hands of the blood that may have otherwise stained his fingertips. When he returned, he was waiting eagerly, intrigued to find out where Owen had come from and why it seemed both of them held sacred the exact same lie.
"I suppose I had the same problem as you," Owen started, as he took a seat next to Curt and shifted enough to look at him. "It was a matter of just... Wishing to be invisible among the men at the agency, and then it became something of a habit..."
"So, what about it, then? Where'd you grow up?"
"I grew up in Southwark. It's... Close enough to Peckham? You've been there."
He had. And he remembered how strong the accents were around there, too. To hear something like that coming from Owen would probably send him into shock, he supposed, especially since he was so used to what he was hearing now. He caught himself staring and shook his head. "No way..."
Owen took a breath. He had to think about dropping the accent he had now, it had become a subconscious effort to keep it up, and he hadn't actively heard his own, true voice in a long time.
"People don't— y'know— really ask for clarification when you tell 'em you're from London, so I tend not to bother givin' any better than that... Besides," he smiled, "I get foreigners thinkin' I'm right posh, and that's kinda fun, really."
Curt stared. He'd literally been gearing himself up for the sudden change, but hearing Owen sound so rough was not something he'd previously ever imagined. "Oh my god... You really never run outta ways to surprise me, huh?"
"Well, you asked..."
"Oh, and I'm not complainin'! 'S just unexpected when I've known you with that other voice for so long."
"I could say the same..."
"Why'd ya let people believe you're posh if you ain't?"
"... 'S easier. Most people just assume all of London is exactly the same, and who'm I to argue?" He leaned in a little, letting his gaze meet Curt's. "But, you wanna know the hardest part 'bout tryna keep that up?"
"Shoot."
"I used to swear like a sailor."
Curt laughed. When he realised Owen was being entirely serious, he laughed only harder. "Now that, I gotta hear!"
"Get me drunk enough, and you have yourself a deal."
#spies are forever#saf#curtwen#agent curt mega#owen carvour#void offering#star mail#tw blood#tw injury#nova's tags →#i've said it before and i'll say it again#working! class! owen! carvour!!!!#at this point i blatantly refuse to believe that hes actually posh#but again... thats the projection :)#let's get these idiots stressed and fuck around with their accents :)#btw southwark is 'suh-thuk'#don't ask... we have weird ways of pronouncing places that look like they should be pronounced completely differently
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he’s back. kim taerae
word count: 2.04k (woops)
summary: soon after realizing taerae had came back from the uk, you call him to get answers. highly suggestive. reader discretion advised.
contents: sub!taerae, dom!reader, phone call, guided masturbation, pet names
a/n: the beginning is very lengthy sooorry i rambled lol, reader is afab!
you and taerae have been friends since you both could remember. you’d do everything together; play, homework, even sleepover at each others homes. though you two were super close, you were just friends. nothing more, nothing less.
your bond was unbreakable- taerae being the timid, shy boy that he is and you being the bolder, gut-sy, slightly younger friend he had. taerae was a little older than you, but you always saw him as a cute friend that could always count on you. why would you ever question it? you literally nicknamed him “tae”.
it was until the summer of your last year in high school that you only saw taerae as a friend. before you knew it, taerae changed. he grew taller, voice dropped, and he even started to dress more fashionable. taerae in your eyes had changed. you found him attractive.
of course you’d never let him find this out, what if it costs your whole relationship? but little did you know, taerae felt the same way about you, he too was scared that it would break the friendship the both of you had for so long.
as soon as university started, you both grew farther and farther away from each other. when it came to your schedules, workloads, and even jobs- you guys just had no time to hang out anymore. the both of you were practically strangers.
at times, you’d see a girl talking about taerae, or even taerae talking with other girls, and it would always sting. hiding your emotions, you just went around and dated. and so did he.
there would be times that you two texted each other, but it was nothing super big, probably just a few “how are you” and “hey” messages.
junior year came, and you suddenly didn’t see taerae in school anymore. you asked around, and found out that he went on an exchange program, abroad in the uk. “he told other people..but not me.” you thought to yourself, upset.
the end of junior year approached quickly as you were solely focused on your studies. taerae still lingered in your mind, but you had enough on your plate already.
it was a summer night that you threw yourself on your bed, opening you phone to check social media. you felt tense, the stress from summer program applications starting to get to you. soon enough, through other peoples snapchats, you found out that taerae returned from the uk.
angry, you clicked the “tae” you had saved in your phone, and hoped he hadn’t changed his phone number yet. to your luck, he answered.
“hello? y/n-ie?” taerae said, a light english accent on his soft voice.
“oh, so you remember my name?” you reply, a clear angry tone in your words.
you hear a disappointed sigh come from the other line, and you start to worry. “taerae?” you ask, genuinely concerned.
“i’m sorry-” he blurts. “it’s just that once university started we started to hang out less, and i thought you didn’t like me anymore- b- but i had feelings for you, i- i mean i still do but-” taerae sputtered before you cut him off. “no i’m sorry,” you started. before you processed what he said.
“wait what was that last part?” you asked with hope in your voice. “well- i said that i liked and still like you, y/n.” taerae whispers while laying on his bed.
“i am an idiot,” you blinked. “so fucking stupid.” you told yourself underneath your breath.
“what? no- wait what?” he asked, confused.
“taerae, i felt the same way.
the two of you begin to catch up for the next 45 minutes over the phone. you both share the fun experiences you have had while getting lost in conversation together. it was nice.
the line fell quiet, but you found yourself not wanting to hang up yet, and it seemed that neither did he.
“what are you doing now?” you asked him.
“hm...just laying in my bed,” he replied, sounding like he was shifting his position. “probably going to sleep soon.”
“do you share a room?”
“no, not anymore. my brother’s room is a couple doors down the hallway. i don’t think you seen him in a loooong while, right?”
“yeah, it’s been awhile” you chuckle.
“you should come over sometime,” taerae suggested “he’s pretty cool now.”
“i can’t wait to see him again then,” you teased.
“well...don’t be too excited to meet him,” he said, pouting slightly.
you laughed. “i can’t help it, i’m excited to see your family again. your kind parents, and i bet your brother is handsome..” you teased.
“yeah yeah, i guess my parents are kind of nice- wait! i’m handsome!” he insisted.
“of course! i know my tae-ie is handsome.”
“thank you y/n,” he said, sounding pleased.
“so- what are we wearing, mr handsome?” you asked, your tone changing a little as you imagined him stretched out on top of his bed. nervous, not knowing why you just said what you said, you waited for his response.
“uh...” he seemed shy. you didn’t press the silence, just waiting to see what he would say. “just...my sweatpants.”
“awe that sounds comfy,” you replied, adjusting your position in bed. “just your sweatpants then? no shirt?”
“y-yeah...no shirt,” he gulped. with your mind racing, it’s just your emotions talking right now.
“hmm. i’d like to see that,” you replied lowly, imagining his tanned chest laid bare, corded muscle contracting with each breath he took, his bicep bulging just slightly as he held the phone to his ear, his other hand resting lightly on his stomach.
“wh-what about you, what are you wearing, y/n-ie?” he asked shyly after a breath.
“oh? i’m just wearing an old t-shirt and some panties,” you replied, stretching your limbs around.
“th-that’s it?” he asked, breath hitched.
“mhm.”
he was shifting on the bed quietly, you could hear movement and his soft breaths. he hesitated before speaking again, seeming unsure how far he could take this conversation before you would stop it.
“what color are you panties?” he asked then, his voice breathy and low.
“hm? black,” you replied after glancing down at them. “they aren’t very comfy though, i need some new ones,” you pouted, smirking as you spoke.
“they aren’t comfy?” he breathed.
“nope.”
“maybe...you should take them off,” he said, sounding awkward and cute, like he was nervous to say it, but also desperate for you to do it.
“you think so? how about i’ll take my panties off if you take your sweatpants off.”
“okay,” he replied quickly. there was rustling on his end of the phone and true to your word you removed your panties, excitement at the thought of him imagining you rushing through you. “okay i’m done,” he said.
“me too,” you let him think about that for a breath before going on. “what kind of underwear do you have on?” you asked.
“um just some boxers.”
“what color?”
“gray.”
“i bet gray looks good with your tan,” you replied. you could hear him breathing and you waited, seeing what he would say next. he seemed like he wanted to speak but was hesitating.
“what- what do you want me to do next?” he asked then. you smirked.
“i want you to...run your hand down your chest,” you said in a low voice, making yourself sound breathy and quiet. “over your stomach and to you waistband.”
you could hear him breathing and you knew he was brushing his fingers over his skin like you instructed. he whined softly when he reached his pants.
“what’s the matter?” you cooed.
“i got to my waistband. you didn’t say to keep going.”
��what do you want to do taerae?” you asked him, feigning innocence. he wasn’t going to do anything until you told him to, and it made you feel very powerful.
“i...i want to touch myself,” he breathed, his voice sounding needy and whiny.
“go ahead bub,” you whispered, pressing the phone close against your ear. “pull it out and touch it.”. there was a brief rustling on his end of the phone before a tiny, relieved moan escaped his lips, and you knew he was curling his fingers around himself, grasping his firm member. “how do you feel in your hand?” you asked him.
“h-hard,” he breathed.
“mm,” you hummed in response, slipping the hand that didn’t hold your phone down between your legs. “that’s good baby,” you said. there was a little gasp from his end when you called him baby, he just followed it with a tiny whine. “i bet your big, pretty hand looks really nice wrapped around your hard cock, doesn’t it baby?”
he whimpered slightly. “please y/n”
“tell me what you want, tae”
he breathed for a moment, the breaths blowing over the mouthpiece and into your ear. “i want to come,” he whimpered.
“and you want y/n-ie to help you?” you questioned.
“yes, y/n please.”
“listen to you baby, asking so nicely,” you cooed. “go ahead and stroke it for me then. but go slow.”
“ah- okay,” he whispered. you know he was doing it, you could hear the movement.
“that’s a good boy,” you told him, circling your clit lightly with the pad of you finger as you listened. “go a little faster now baby.” he did so, little breathy moans escaping him as his pace increased.
“ah-ah,” his volume rose a bit with each moan and you could hear the movement of his arm as he continued to pump himself. you slipped a finger deeper between your legs, brushing softly at yourself, beginning to speed up to match his pace.
“taerae...you made me wet with your dirty little moans,” you told him.
“fuck, fuck y/n,” he groaned loudly at that.
“that’s right baby- don’t stop-” you gasped and moaned lightly into the phone, making noises for him as you added a second finger. his moaning began to speed up- switching from longer softer groans to little quick breathy ones and you knew he was getting close. “you’re doing so good baby. how is my tae-ie feeling?” you asked.
“y/n- ah- so, so good-”
you cut him off, moaning his name suddenly as your fingers plunged more deeply into yourself.
he gasped loudly when he heard his name, the rustling of his arm pumping himself quickly and the music of his high pitched, breathy moans turning you on even more, your fingers slicked with your wetness.
“oh my go- oh fuck,” he suddenly moaned “y/n can i come please can i come,” he asked all in one breath.
“yes- yes,” you moaned out as you felt yourself nearly there as well. he gave one last loud moan as he released all over his hand and stomach and the sound of his pleasure sent you over the edge, your knees shaking as you came, whimpering loudly yourself. the two of you panted quietly for a moment as you came down then he cleared his throat, moving around and making the phone rustle.
“shit,” he breathed. “i haven’t had phone sex since before i left here, that was...fucking good.”
“.. well maybe you shouldn’t have left then.” you said.
“y/n you know how sorry i am- i couldn’t pass up on this opportunity and i know that i fucked up like i should’ve told you before i left and i’m sorry that we fell off and stopped talking-” taerae pleaded as you cut him off.
“i’m kidding, it’s okay bub, i know” you smiled through the phone. “oh” he said, staring blankly at his ceiling, hearing you giggle over the line.
“well, it was good, wasn’t it?” you said through your giggles.
“yeah it was,” taerae started. “we should totally do that in person when you come to visit my house-”
“i’m going to sleep now taerae” you deadpan, stifling your laughter. “you did do a good job for me though, coming so well over the phone,” you told him softly, suddenly making him feel very shy.
“thank you y/n,” he mumbled, his shy little voice placing a wide grin on your face.
“text me whenever and you know i’ll be at your place in five. welcome back tae!”
“o-okay. sleep well, y/n”
“night bub, see you tomorrow.”
#kim taerae#kim taerae smut#taerae smut#taerae x reader#zb1 smut#zerobaseone smut#zb1 hard hours#kpop smut#subby taerae??#first zb1 work#oh2z
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alright friends
i’ve slammed back two margaritas, had some tacos, & feel mentally stable enough to talk about the con so let’s get into it
*long ass rambling under the cut
so this entire con was extremely chaotic. i’ve only been to one con before, and it was a horror con last year, and that one was an absolute shitshow. this one was significantly better, but still a hot mess. emphasis on the hot. it’s texas y’all, and it’s summer, so ya girl was sweating all day (my mood is also directly affected by the heat 🙃)
it was really hard to tell where everything was supposed to be happening, and we had to ask for directions several times
the first op we got was with hayden, and that was a MESS. they were so behind schedule with his pictures (our time was at 2pm and we didn’t even get to him until like 3:45pm) so i didn’t get to go to the daredevil born again panel. i was also super stressed and on the verge of having a panic attack that i was gonna be late for my op with charlie and jon bc that was at 5pm
luckily, we made it. ✨ hayden was so incredibly sweet, and really fucking tall, and has one of the most soothing and mesmerizing voices ever. he made direct eye contact and said hello, thanked us for coming when we left, and was smiling the entire time. he was so so so lovely
now charlie & jon’s op was super on time. their people weren’t playing any games. unfortunately though, we got put in the wrong line which fucked us over when it came time to take the picture, bc we ended up getting super rushed through it
as soon as we stepped into the booth, charlie told me to go to jon, to which i was like 🫡 yes sir. now i had told my partner that i wanted to stand in between charlie and jon (i wanted my main character moment, & he was cool with that) but since things were rushed, charlie directed him to stand next to me and then charlie stood by him. so unfortunately, i didn’t really get to interact with charlie at all, which did break my heart, not gonna lie to y’all
but that honestly was not his fault at all. the con was super packed, and i think they oversold tickets, so he was doing his best to help move things along as quickly as possible while still making sure everyone had a good experience
also i can’t even imagine the pressure they are under meeting so many people in one day, and they were probably overwhemled and exhausted themselves, but you’d never know it bc they were both so happy and excited
but, charlie did smile at me, and his smile is so much more blinding in person. i can’t confirm what he smells like, but i can confirm that he was so incredibly sweet, is way more handsome in person, is so fucking british it’s comical (experiencing that accent in person was 🫠), and i could tell he was genuinely so excited and happy to be there
now onto jonny boy. see i thought when charlie smiled at me, my soul left my body. but nope, there was still more soul to lose. jon called me mama (his exact words were, “c’mon over here mama”) and i’ll never fucking recover. i think he could tell i was overwhelmed, bc he put his arm around me, looked me right in the eye, smiled so sweetly and asked me how i was doing, to which i smiled like an idiot and said this was the best day of my life. i asked him how he was doing and he laughed (he fucking laughed y’all) and said he was doing good. he also smelled SO GOOD (exactly like what I thought he would smell like: earthy with some spice). he was so gentle and sweet. also can confirm he says y’all
the picture happened so fast, it literally felt like a split second. jon gave me a little pat on my back and smiled again and told me to have a good day, and charlie smiled at me again and said thanks for coming
i was incredibly emotionally overwhelmed when we went to pick up our picture. i was already super overstimulated, but there was also this disappointment gnawing at the pit of my stomach bc everything happened so fast, and i didn’t get a chance to say how i wanted my picture. then when i got my picture, i felt even worse bc i feel like i look so uncomfortable and frazzled
i didn’t get to take many pictures during the con at all (i think I only took 3) so i apologize for not really having more to post for y’all. the whole thing was just far more overwhelming than i anticipated
i am so sweaty and overheated, my feet are killing me, and i’m trying not to cry. i know this all sounds dramatic (i am a drama queen) but i’m trying to focus on the positives of today. i know they say don’t meet your heroes, but if your heroes are one of these three guys, definitely meet them. you won’t regret it. they are just as fucking wondeful as we think they are, if not more
i got to meet three of my favorite people in the whole world. i got to hug hayden. i got a blinding, beautiful smile from charlie. and i got an incredibly sweet interaction with jon. i may not like how i look in these pictures, but i’ll get over myself when my emotions settle, and every time i look at them in the future i’ll remember today was one of the best days of my entire life bc i met my boys 🥹
also i feel really special that jon actually smiled in this picture (he’s like straight up cheesing) bc homeboy never smiles (which, same. that’s why mine is so fucking awkward)
if you’re still reading this rant, i appreciate you listening to me ramble. thank you for being an incredible friend <3
and if you’ve been wondering what the tiny evil little demon behind the screen looks like, here ya go :)
psa i am not as tall as these pictures make me look. it’s the angle, & i am wearing boots :) ya girl is a humble 5’4 on a good day
#court rambles#face reveal ???#hi here’s my sweaty overwhelmed face#charlie cox#matt murdock#daredevil#jon bernthal#frank castle#the punisher#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker#star wars#fan expo dallas
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The Swan and her Handler
Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.
Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.
Rated T for language
~2000 words
Read my other stuff
Read on Ao3
These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal.
Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense.
Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch.
“She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”
True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.
First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit.
Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for.
Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag.
He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile.
“We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.”
Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.
“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays.
He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?”
“Not yet,” the dumbass admits.
The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.”
I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him.
“There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?”
She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting.
“She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes.
“She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.”
“We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke.
“That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard.
He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse.
One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers.
“You’re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”
She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.”
Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets.
“What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep.
She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?”
In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.”
She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea.
“Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?”
She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time.
“I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head.
Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly.
She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!
“Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves.
“You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.”
“What the fuck?”
“You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her.
“I did what now?”
“I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?”
He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully.
“Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.”
“So you… you fell in love… with me…?”
“Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”
“I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.”
“Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.”
“Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”
“Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before.
“Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.”
“Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”
~~~~
Tagging (with apologies):
@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree
#Captain Swan#Captain swan fanfic#cs fanfic#the swan and her handler#cs ff#the swan ff#cs crack#crack fic
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Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter One
Summary: You live in Bogotá in the ‘90s, and work odd hours. No, you’re not a DEA agent, but a nurse. These odd hours prompt odd habits, like working out at 2:03 A.M. after a shift. Odd hours attract odd people, and you have a chance encounter with one DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.
Warnings: language, blood and violence (both graphic), descriptions of death and gun violence
Chapter 1 W/C: 2.3K
A/N: you guys! I am so in love with this fic. I already have quite a bit more written and can’t wait for you to read it! I hope you love it as much as I do! Javi deserves some softness... but not too much. this can’t all be fluff when you’re Javier Peña. Okay, this is not super canon-fitting of Narcos, I’m just gonna be honest with y’all. This is between the time of Escobar’s escape from La Catedral and his final capture and death, but also… Connie’s still in Colombia. Additionally, I don’t really have a year in mind, it’s just somewhere in that period. Please note that this is not a very lighthearted story- it begins with a death, though not of a significant character. Javier and reader both have some trauma, so please check the warnings of each chapter before you start reading. If you’re continuing on, I hope you like it! For the most part, if I use italics here when someone is speaking, it’s indicating that it’s in Spanish. I’m okay at the language, but I don’t want to butcher anything, so… just imagine it. Otherwise, it’s just the way anyone would use italics I guess.
next chapter
Chapter One
You watched a woman you didn’t know die in your arms tonight.
She was beautiful, all dressed up to go out and party, her makeup running down her face with tears. Her lips were the painted the color of the blood that trickled from the side of them, eyes glazing over as she coughed and coughed and ruined the beautiful dress she wore. The nurses had asked what happened, and she had told them, through gurgles of blood: she had slept with one of Escobar’s men. She got too close, learned too much, and they tracked her down.
She flatlined not long after telling the nurses around you. You had stood in the corner, paralyzed at first. You were an experienced ER nurse, nothing was new. You had seen patients die, but something about her was different. Maybe it was the way she reached out to you right before her body went limp. You didn’t make it to her bedside in time to calm her, the panic holding you down, but you finally took her hand right as she took her last breath.
After she passed, you threw up in the bathroom, shaking and clutching the toilet. The night air had grown unbearably hot and humid, causing your scrubs to cling to your skin, and the sweat from the heaving of your stomach didn’t make things easier on you. Lorena, a fellow nurse and your best friend at work, had found you and comforted you, rubbing your back and bringing you water. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t reverse what had happened.
Now, you sit on a bench in the staff’s locker room, redoing the ponytail holding your hair from your damp face. Your shift ended a few minutes ago, but you don’t know what to do now. You don’t feel like drinking; that would only make the visions swimming in your head worse. You know you can’t go home, can’t attempt to find sleep tonight. You look up and spot a bag with tennis shoes and spare clothing and settle your mind on at least one thing: the gym could do you some good. You change into the clothes and put the blood-spattered scrubs in the laundry pile.
As you leave, you give Lorena a little wave goodbye and exit the building. You’re hyper-aware of your surroundings tonight, and you groan as you look at your watch and notice that it’s precisely 2:09 A.M. here in Bogotá. The walk to your fitness club is short, but your step is slightly extra hurried and your hand is on your pepper spray the entire time, extra vigilant to the fact that a hit went down somewhere around here just a few hours earlier. Surprisingly enough, no one catcalls or bugs you tonight.
The little gym is run-down and dilapidated, and there’s no working air conditioning, but it’s the only one near you. You paid the small monthly membership fee to gain access, and you were going to use it to get in shape, you’d decided. As you swipe in and enter, the tiny fitness center looks more depressing in the fluorescent lights, no daylight to sugarcoat the atrocities of the center. There are two of every machine, a punching bag and a speed bag, two weightlifting racks, and a couple of benches.
It’s nice that you get to work out alone tonight, you tell yourself. Even better is the fact that you now get to control the music. Desperate for a taste of home, you flip the large boombox in the corner on and begin scanning the airwaves with the dial. There’s a station in town that plays American music, and you need it more than anything tonight. You listen carefully and nearly start sobbing again as you hear Billy Joel’s voice through the speakers. With a sigh of relief, you lock your bag in the rusty lockers in the corner and head to the treadmill.
It’s a beat up old thing, but this is the one you always use. It provides a little bit of comfort tonight, the familiarity of it. You turn it on low and start walking. A few moments later, you up it to a jog, mouthing along to the words of the familiar song.
As the song ends, you push the buttons enough to enter a running speed. Your feet slam into the treadmill harder than normal tonight, feeling as overwhelmed as when you left the hospital. Your body finally works up a sweat, the physical stress overwhelming the mental stress.
As the events of tonight replay in your head to some other song from the late 80’s, your eyes start to water. Everything was so overwhelming, and your mind is just starting to process it. You finally allow the tears to fall, mixing with the sweat coating your cheeks. It’s hard to tell which is causing more of the mess, but you let yourself cry it out as you run for the next few minutes.
The next song that comes on is Venus by Bananarama. You almost chuckle at the fact that it’s a few years old by now, but the song is comforting. It reminds you of home, of a time before you had issues like these. You slow down the treadmill a little, singing to the words aloud once you catch your breath enough. Daring to do a little spin on the rolling surface, you groove along to the music, chuckling a little
After the first chorus, you hear a creaking noise and whip around to find a man standing in the doorway. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You shout before you can stop yourself, hopping off the treadmill and onto the non-moving one before you get flung off. Your heart is pounding from the running, only intensifying the adrenaline rush from the scare.
The man chuckles a little, but the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s tired- of course he is, it’s now 2:30 in the morning. “Lo siento,” you offer in Spanish, cringing at yourself and your reaction just now. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here this late,” you stutter, still panting from the running.
He shakes his head lightly. “You’re American,” he says simply. In English, in a beautifully American accented voice.
Your sweaty brow furrows, a glimmer of hope sparking inside your chest as you notice that he speaks like an American himself. “So are you.”
He nods at that. “That I am,” he says as he puts his things in a locker, snapping it shut behind him. He looks at you for a moment. You’re not working at the Embassy, or he’d know you. It was rare to find an American down here that wasn’t working for the government somehow. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, looking at how tired he appears in the big mirrored wall. He’s curious, but he’s exhausted.
You look at him for a moment. “You going to explain anything, like, tell me about yourself? Or do I have to go first?” You ask, hands on your waist as you hop back on the slowly moving treadmill, back into moving. He doesn’t respond. “Fine. I know you’re government. I’m not an idiot.”
He chuckles and tugs on his t-shirt, moving to the treadmill next to you and getting on. It’s been ages since you’ve held a conversation in English, and you missed this, missed how easily your first language flows from your mouth.
“And you’re not.”
“Correct,” you nod, turning up the speed a little on the machine until you’re at a light jog. “My bigger concern was going to be why you’re here at 2-fucking-30, but I’m guessing I know the answer. You get called in around here for the hit?” He nods, starting the treadmill up and walking on it.
“You don’t have to be so guarded, Jesus. I fucking hate Escobar, I’m on your side,” you scoff before turning up the machine until you’re running once more.
Javier shrugs. “Makes sense. How did you know-”
“She died,” you say quickly and firmly, keeping your eyes straight ahead and looking at the room around you. “Add that to your file.”
He nods, understanding a little more now. You knew her somehow. He doesn’t say a word either, cranking up the machine and heading into a jog too.
A few more minutes pass of the two of you silently running next to each other, the American music still playing throughout the gym. It’s a comfort to Javier too. Tonight was shit for the DEA- they had known Escobar’s men would be around here. They had the intel, they had everything ready, but the men somehow had escaped and left a victim in their wake.
The frustration of everything, of the man being something close to home for you yet being a brick wall, threatens your eyes with welling tears again. “I just wanted to talk with an American,” you sigh and cross your arms, moving back into the walking stage of a treadmill.
The man next to you gives a similar sigh, stopping his treadmill completely and offering you a hand. “Javier Peña.” You take it reluctantly, feeling the sweat of both of your hands mix, and tell him your name before retracting it and stopping the treadmill too. “So, what brings you to the gym at 2:30?” He asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the center part of the treadmill.
“I’m a nurse. I work the graveyard shift. Bad night, a patient died because she got fucking shot for having a boyfriend and not knowing he was a narco, I need to get something out, I come here,” you shrug, unconsciously mimicking him by folding your arms as well.
He nods at that. “I’m here for the same. Shitty stakeout, I’m pissed off, I come here.” He leaves out the part about his favorite call girl being taken, and how he needed another way to get the rage inside of him out. He walks off of the treadmill and to the weight rack, pulling a bench beneath the bar.
You turn again and turn the machine back on, slowly jogging. “I see. Odd hours to be here, that’s why I asked,” you say simply. “And to see another American at such a time. I haven’t interacted with one since I came here.”
Javier nods, adjusting the weights on the bar. “Yeah. Weird,” he nods. “And that you’re an American who isn’t working for the government and you’re down here. What, you got a husband who works for us?”
You shake your head, swallowing hard for a moment. “No, don’t have a husband in the first place,” you admit, adjusting the ponytail holding your hair up. “It’s a long story.”
“We got time,” he shrugs as he gets on the bench beneath the rack, looking at you in the mirrored wall. Even with the sweat and the stress of working out, he notices that you’re gorgeous. You have a nice body, and even your face is pretty while you’re working out.
You shake your head. “Fine, if you really want to hear it.”
“Might as well. It’s that or more of this fucking Wham! music, and I’m sick of George Michael.”
“First of all, first person here gets the music, so mind your manners.” This finally earns a chuckle from the man, and you want to smile but it just can’t come. “I came down here with a man. He’s a citizen here. We were going to get married, but he left me. That was a couple of months ago now,” you admit, the tears beading in the corner of your eye again. “My work visa was still valid, and I renewed it so I can keep working at the hospital. I don’t really have anyone down here except the girls I work with, but I like helping out. They need me.”
He nods a little as he listens, breaking his focus as he starts his reps with the bar.
“And you’re government, so that explains everything I need to know about you,” you continue to babble. “One of the girls I work with has a husband who’s at the Embassy. Murphy,” you say offhandedly.
Javier’s attention is caught, and he sets the bar on the rack. “Murphy?” He asks, and you turn your head to look at him and give him a nod. “No shit. That’s my partner.”
You chuckle slightly and look back at him, stopping the treadmill. “So you know Connie?”
Javi nods. “Yeah, great gal. She could do better than Steve,” he says, sitting up.
You laugh softly at that. “From what I’ve heard of him, I agree. She’s a really great girl, you’re right,” you nod in agreement, looking back at him. “She’s never mentioned you. She says her husband’s in janitorial, but we all know that’s not true. What, you guys CIA? DEA?”
Javier nods again. “DEA.”
“I see,” you say, folding your arms and leaning against the machine. “Can’t make you many friends around here. I learned pretty quickly to keep my mouth shut about being a gringa. They can usually tell though.”
“You’re right,” he chuckles and cracks his back.
You bite your lip as you look at him, your voice watery when you can finally speak again, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion again. “It’s nice to talk to someone in English again,” you admit with a forced smile.
He can read your eyes easily. You’re a nurse, and you told him that the victim died. You saw it. “It is,” he nods, reading your pain and trying to show you he empathizes with it. Your eyes are beautiful, he notices as he looks into them. So much more hope and trust than anyone else he works with, but the pain in them is unbearable. He looks away, leaning back on the bench to lift again.
“So where you from in the States?” You finally ask when the silence is too long.
“Laredo, Texas,” he chuckles. “Yourself?”
#javier peña x reader#javi peña x reader#javier peña#javi peña#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pascalpanic#narcos#narcos fanfic#blood sweat and tears
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work things out
tom holland x pregnant!reader. angst + fluff. language. inspiration. main masterlist. tom holland masterlist. taglist.
not too long ago tom was out the whole day for interviews and press. usually you’d go with him lately but you weren’t feeling too well. given all the strict guidelines, you stayed at home in the apartment in LA that you and tom share. you can’t deny that it did get lonely from time to time, with how busy tom is but your relationship with him is still stronger than ever. it’s a joy, every time he’s off or gets to spend time with you. the both of you cherish it and make every second worth its while.
you both have been together for about four years now. met when you were 19 and he was 21. you truly couldn’t be happier. he’s great, the dates are great, the sex is great. you couldn’t complain. though it did get pressuring from time to time when the whole world relentlessly asked if the two of you are planning to engage, marry or even have kids. the topic has popped up in a couple of conversations between you and tom, but it was never really serious. yet.
yet, you say because you recently found out you’re pregnant. that’s why you’ve been feeling real sick lately and now you’re absolutely terrified to tell tom. usually you’d say luckily. but unfortunately, he’s home now, meaning you know you’d have to tell him soon. but how? tom mentioned that he’s wanted kids, but now? you doubt it. you pushed your insecurities and overwhelming thoughts away for awhile and decided to enjoy tom’s time off with him.
so here you are, a couple of days after his recordings. tom’s in the bathroom freshening up while you’re in the living room relaxing. you plan to tell him soon. eventually. tomorrow.
shaking off the nervous feeling, you smile softly as you watch the newly released interview of tom in esquire. he looked absolutely divine. hair perfectly molded, turtle neck enhancing his clean look. god, you’re in love with him. you giggle at some of his remarks and notice him walk over. “what are you watching, babe?” he hums and sits next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.
“one of your interviews,” you reply and place an arm around him, running a hand through his hair. “i quite like this one, you look rather dashing if i don’t say so myself,” you tease in a british accent.
he chuckles and stuffs his face in the crook of your neck, “yea, yea.”
you watch this next clip and stifle a laugh at the image of tom and nicki minaj photoshopped horribly on a family stock photo. “nicki minaj has announced she’s expected her first child with her husband tom holland. best of luck to the happy couple. this actually really stressed me out,” tom’s voice rang from your ipad.
“oh god, that one. i honestly don’t know how or why the two of us were put together. no relevance,” he murmurs into your skin.
“i honestly don’t know either,” you snicker and continue to watch the video.
“so, that was a big relief for me. because i’m not ready to have kids. i’m not even ready to have a dog properly. anyway,” he said and shifted around in his chair.
those words repeated through your mind immediately and repeatedly, sending a chill down your spine. tom feels you tense up, “love? i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that in the interview i know—”
“tom? do you mean that?” you sit up a bit and pull away from his embrace.
a bit hurt from your sudden actions, tom’s face falls into a frown. “what?”
“y-you’re not ready to have kids?” you stammer and hug your knees to your chest.
“no,” he replies honestly and looks at you with eyes full of concern. his sharp and confirming reply drives a stake through your heart. you’re fucked now, you thought to yourself. “but i thought we’ve talked about this, sweetheart. right? after we get married,” he scoots closer and hesitantly pulls you back into his arms.
“yes i know— i know. but what if,” you begrudgingly comply and fall back into his chest, pressing your face up against his built. “what if we had a kid now?”
“it’d be really difficult that’s for sure. i’m barely home, and i’ve got many films coming up. press, premieres, and shows. you know? i have some auditions coming up as well, and i don’t know. what about you, baby? aren’t you graduating next year? how would you handle baring a child during school and work. honey?” he repeats himself, noticing how you became silent.
“tommy,” you manage to croak out after feeling a lump build up in your throat. you look up at him with teary eyes and a face flushed with embarrassment.
“yes, y/n?” he sits up and cups your face, swiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek with his thumb. “shit. i’m so sorry baby, but we have to think realistic here. with my career, your career. our schedules and all. we can’t, right?”
“i suppose,” you sniffle and purse your lips. “fuck tom, you’re going to hate me when i tell you this.”
“this?” he trails off, a hint of suspicion in his eyes as he had a feeling about what you were about to tell him.
“i-i’m pregnant,” you say cautiously and shut your eyes closed tightly.
if only you could see the look on his face. he jumps up and brings you with him making you squeal as he holds you up high. “what!? are you— are you actually!?” he cries out and pulls you back down, hugging you closely.
“yes,” you whine, bit surprised at his reaction as he sways you in his arms. “y-you’re not upset? you just said you’re not ready?”
he shakes his head and tenderly presses kisses along your shoulder and back up towards your lips. “just because i’m not ready doesn’t mean i don’t want to have kids with you. i’ll be ready. i’ll fucking, shit i’ll make myself ready. my sweet, love, darling. hell, i’d never. never be upset for you baring our child, never. never in a million years. are you, are you actually?” he asks once more for safe measures.
“yes,” you begin to cry out in joy and nod excitedly. “i-i took one of those pregnancy tests but to be sure i just took the whole fucking box. so i pissed on like five sticks and— and they were all positive, but i still wasn’t pleased so i went to the doctors and tom. i’m already three weeks,” she whimpers
“holy hell, has it really been that long since we’ve had sex!?” he exclaims and your jaw slacks. he laughs loudly and you shove him harshly down onto the couch. “i’m joking! just joking, oh darling. oh my love. i’m so happy i couldn’t express myself more, i don’t know what to say—” he rambles on while you straddle his waist. you place a finger on his lips and he instantly shuts up, carefully placing his hands upon your hips.
“i love you,” you sigh and lean down, placing your forehead against his.
“i love you more,” he responds and pulls your waist closer. “we can work this out. i’m sure you’ll be able to manage college, but work? maybe it’s time you quit that bloody job of yours with the asshole of a manager. i know you don’t want to depend on my money but angel, c’mon. been together for almost five years now and i’ve barely spent a dime on you.”
you sigh and nod reluctantly, “i know. i’ll quit the job. definitely don’t need the extra stress. but this doesn’t mean spoil me, tommy. you know that right?”
“why not!?”
“because! because well, you don’t need to. it’s waste.”
he lets out an offended gasp, “how dare you insult my future wife and child like that. spending money on you both, will never be a waste. you hear me?”
“tooooommy! i meant me, yes spoil our child but not me.”
“i’m not arguing about this, sorry darling,” he shrugs.
you slap his chest and huff frustratingly. “but, what about you?”
“i obviously can’t cancel the films, but i’ll take out press i don’t really need to do, you know? with covid still around, i doubt there’ll be any press tours for another year so that’s nothing we need to worry about. though, i think i can manage a way to work from home more. besides recording days, obviously. i’m an idiot, ignore me. anyway, and i won’t audition for any upcoming or new films until we’ve settled, yea?”
you take in his words and glance at him in complete adoration. “you’d really do all that for me? for us?” you whisper.
“oh darling, in a heartbeat. i’d do anything for you, for you both. we’ll work things out,” he tilts your chin down and kisses your forehead. “okay?”
you smile lovingly and nod. “okay, thank you.”
“love, don’t thank for me. this is all a given, you hear that?”
“yea, i hear that,” you sigh and curl up in between his legs, cuddling into his embrace.
“good, i love you new mum.”
you flush and hide your face into his shirt. he laughs loudly and wraps his arms around securely, pressing multiple kisses against your head. “i love you too, new dad.”
#kelly's drabbles#tom holland#tom holland drabbles#tom holland blurbs#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x pregnant!reader
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Cross the Line- Bakugo X Reader 18+
WC: 3.5K
Warnings: Angst, Anger, Unprotected Sex, Swearing
“I am pregnant, Kaa-Chan.” You whispered as his hand was wrapped around your throat intent on killing you. He lowered his hands and walked away. You were the enemy, the one he had to kill.
~~~Eighteen Months ago~~~
“Y/N. You understand the mission, correct?” Shigaraki asked.
“You know I am not a fucking idiot? Who do you mistake me for? Chisaki or Dabi?” You retorted back.
“Y/N.” Shigaraki gave you a threatened tone.
“Get close enough to the loudmouth hero to kill him." The sarcasm dripped from your tone.
"Good girl." He replied and left you alone.
For a few months, you followed Bakugo learned his schedule. You learned where he lived, how often he trained, his shopping habits, but most importantly, you learned that he didn’t have a significant other.
It was easy to become his neighbor, and for you to keep ‘bumping’ into him, but the hardest part would be getting to be part of his agency.
~~~Fifteen Months Ago~~~
“Hi! I am Quiver!” You were standing in front of Lord Explosion Murder in his agency. His crimson eyes narrowed looking at you in your hero suit. It was black and skin-tight with red accents.
“Do you want a fucking cookie?” He asked with disgust in his voice.
“Oh?” You feigned innocence. “Well, I am your new sidekick, but it looks like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I will just leave you alone.” You told him and you walked out of his office. You had heard he was difficult to deal with, but this wasn’t what you were expecting. You decided that if he was going to act like a complete and utter jackass you weren’t going to take it.
“Oi!” He came charging out of his office at you. “What the hell dumbass?” He yelled at you.
“Hm, well if you’re going to take that tone with me, I will come back tomorrow when you’re less stressed.” You told him as you walked out the door. You went home for the rest of the day.
The next day morning you had arrived and entered Lord Explosion Murder’s office again.
“Good Morning! I am Quiver!” You greeted him chirpily.
“Who the hell do you think you are leaving like that yesterday?” He yelled at you again. You turned around and left again. This continued for the rest of the week. He didn’t learn very quickly, but being cute probably helped him, you thought to yourself. By Friday, he had left you a seething voicemail saying how lazy, rude, and entitled he thought you were and that you were fired. You replied with a very short text stating, “K.” You knew it would probably anger him more. You weren’t there to make friends, you were there to kill him.
When you arrived at work the following Monday, the receptionist's eyes grew wide. She very clearly heard the voicemail and very deliberately chose to ignore it.
“Good Morning, Sir.” You said as sweetly as possible. Lord Explosion just stared at you as if you were a ghost.
“I thought I fired you.” He said as calmly as he could.
“Oh, you did? I didn’t really listen to the voicemail. I never do, but it seems as if you learned your lesson from last week.” You said with a hint of condescension.
“I don’t have time for you Dumbass. Just leave.” He told you with a huff of annoyance.
“Oh, Dumbass is a pet name?” You asked him. “I know that a sidekick isn’t what you want, but in order to be more appealing to not just the commission, but the general public as well.” You told him. Yes, you were all too well aware of his “image”, but with you working for the enemy, you truly didn’t care.
“Fuck, you’re right” he mumbled under his breath. He looked at you over steepled fingers. He stood quickly, to close the door to his office.
“Alright, Quiver, let’s begin.” He began as he sat back down in his office chair. The rest of the day, he went over rules for the office, his expectations for you, and how often he expected you to train. The rest of the week was tough but doable. The weekend didn’t come fast enough for you. As your patrol finished you got your weekly text from Shigaraki. You rolled your eyes and ignored him. The best thing about this job did not only do you have to stay away from the small hideout, but you could sleep in on the weekends, and you didn’t have to hear Kai or Dabi bicker.
Lord Explosion Murder noticed your smile. He saw how happy you looked after receiving your text.
“What’s got you smiling so big, Dumbass?” He asked you paying a little too much attention.
“Oh, nothing really. I get to sleep in tomorrow. As much as I enjoy working, I do enjoy a day off too.” You replied.
“You sure seemed happy after that text though.” He said with a hint of jealousy that did not go unnoticed by you.
“Oh, that was my annoying ass friend. He is going on about working hard and blah, blah, blah. I swear to goodness, his crusty ass is getting ignored all weekend.” You vented.
“Oh. Well. Okay, do you need me to walk your dumbass home?” He retorted not really sure of what to say.
“No, I am good!” You waved goodbye and ran at full speed to get home. You ran to your apartment in the building, showered quickly, changed, and fell asleep.
The next morning you awoke to a yell, the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You walked outside to yell at whoever was causing the ruckus.
“I told you, nerd, that is not in bounds.” The male yelled. Looking down from your balcony, you saw Lord Murder Explosion. You did pick this apartment building because he lived here, but didn’t realize that he was his hero identity 100% of the time.
“Hey, asshole? Could you shut your mouth? It’s too early for you to be yelling!” You shouted over your balcony to the group below.
“It’s the afternoon, dumbass!” He shouted back to you.
“Kaa-Chan, be nice. She’s your neighbor.” A green-haired man said.
“ You wanna fight? I could take you right now.” You shouted.
“Oi! Get down here and say that to my face!” He said the anger rising within himself. Without thinking, you jumped down ready to fight him. When he gave you his wide smile, your heart stopped for a moment.
“So you want to fight?” He asked with the most curious look on his face.
“Bakugo, don’t do this.” The green-haired man begged him. “The press will be all over this.” You knew with him there was always someone watching.
“Bakugo, don’t.” His friend with red and white hair said holding him back. It was no use though, he was in your face and chest to chest. You felt his warmth. The onlookers continued to gather, many with phones out ready to watch the fight. You knew that there was only one option in this case.
You grabbed his shirt, and quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His lips against yours, and while his body was tense, he was not fighting it. You pulled back a moment, and looked up at him.
“Well isn’t this something Lord Explosion Murder?” You whispered before turning away and going back to your apartment/
~~~12 Months Ago~~~
The following Monday morning was awkward for Bakugo, but you didn't pay any attention to it, you really didn’t want to bring any attention to you at all. However, that isn’t what happened. You did bring attention to yourself and of course Shigaraki was very upset. The news died down pretty quickly, though, probably due to his one friend being Endeavor’s son. The next three months though passed quickly and you never thought of the kiss again.
The nights you patrolled with Bakugo he didn’t mention the kiss, he didn't’ mention anything about you knowing his hero identity, but he did try to get to know better. You were on the last patrol of the night, just before you said goodbye for the weekend, Bakugo spoke to you.
“So, uh. Quiver. Y/N. I don’t know what you want me to call you, but if you’re not busy, I’d like to take you out on a proper date or something.” A light pink dusting on his cheeks as he asked you.
“Is this because we kissed forever ago?” You questioned.
“No, Dumbass. Out of all the people, I hate you the least.” He retorted.
“Oh, how very manly of you.” You laughed at him.
“No. Forget it. It was very stupid for me to ask you.” He said walking away looking dejected.
“Tomorrow. 8PM. Don’t be late.” You told him as you skipped home. Getting this hero to die would be easy, so you thought.
The next day, you woke to a very angry phone call from Shigaraki. He demanded answers for why it was taking so long. If anyone else had done it it would’ve been done by now, and other bullshit you didn’t have time for. You knew that everyone would notice it was you right away. So while you ignored your phone call, you focused on your date this evening. The day flew while you were taking care of errands and miscellaneous tasks that you’ve been putting off for too long.
Before you knew it, there was a knock at the door, you went to open the door, and saw Bakugo standing there with flowers.
“These are for you.” He thrust the flowers toward you while looking away.
“Thank you, these are beautiful. While I put them in water, why don’t you make yourself at home? I still need to put on my makeup.” You told him.
“Really? I don’t think that is necessary. I mean, you look beautiful the way you are.” His face was getting redder and redder.
“Thank you, you’re very kind. I will be but a moment.” You told him as walked into the room. A few minutes you were ready.
“Okay, I am ready. What are the plans for tonight?” You asked him curiously.
“Well the stupid nerd convinced all of us that went to UA together to hang out. They want to have a few drinks and karaoke.” He admitted annoyance laced in his voice, but the look on his face told you otherwise. The night was fueled with alcohol, laughter, and memories. You knew that you had to keep it professional, and your job was to eliminate him, at least that is what you kept telling yourself.
The following months went by fast, when you weren’t working, or training, you were hanging out with Bakugo and his hero friends, or just the two of you. Everything was blissful.
~~~9 Months Ago~~~
Angry with the lack of contact and results from you. Shigaraki had enough and was going to take things into his own hands even if you were a casualty.
“Dabi, I need you to go and see what is taking Y/N so fucking long.” He demanded. “Don’t kill her yet, we will kill her when we kill that loudmouth as well.”
Dabi just shook his head and walked out the door. Whatever you were doing wasn’t his problem. To him, getting rid of you wouldn’t matter to his plan. So he did as he was told. He followed you and learned your schedule over the next few weeks.
“She’s so fucking predictable.” Dabi said to himself as he snapped a picture of you and Bakugo kissing. When Dabi returned, he informed Shigaraki of what he found, and together, they plotted your downfall.
~~~6 Months Ago~~~
Bakugo had awoken to a phone call in the middle of the night. He felt you stir in your sleep next to him. He rushed getting his things together and left slamming the door behind him. You turned over in the bed and looked at the alarm clock. The bright red number read 2:43 AM. You texted Bakugo quickly. He responded with Hero Shit. I’ll be safe and see you soon.
You couldn’t sleep. You got up and paced around his apartment. There was something gnawing at the back of your mind. If it was an urgent matter, you’d be called as well. If it was something more serious, they’d only call in the Professional Heroes. Which led you to believe that this was the case.
Two hours later, a very tired Bakugo entered the apartment. You ran into his arms, and held on to him for longer than you should have.
“Were you worried about me dumbass?” He asked you playfully, but the worry was thick in his voice. There was no mistaking it.
“No. Never, but if I didn’t get called in with you, it must be serious.” You told him. You knew you were lying. You were worried, and that scared you more that whatever he was just told. It meant that you had already failed in your mission. That you actually cared.
“Y/N. I need you to know this. I love you, and I will never let anything happen to you. The League threatened us. Specifically, you and me.” Bakugo told you honestly, and openly. “They didn’t give a specific timeline, it was just a general threat, but I thought you should know. Keep your guard up.”
Your heart leaped at his words. You knew you failed. You knew you weren’t supposed to fall, but you did.
“I love you too, Katsuki. I will stick so close to you, you’ll wanna hurl me off the balcony.” You replied. He kissed you deeply with every emotion he felt. He pulled you into the bedroom to further explain how he felt.
~~~3 Months Ago~~~
The two of you were public, there was no denying it. The Commission felt the transparency was necessary to let the League know that a threat wouldn’t stop anyone from living their life. The public cheered for you. The threat was always in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure what scared you more, Shigaraki ceasing all contact with you or the calm that had come over the city.
During your late-night patrol, you and Bakugo happened upon a crying child. Bakugo quickly picked up the child. Cradling her in his arms, and trying to soothe her. It was right then you realized, you wanted a family. Life of a villain wasn’t conducive to having a family. Bakugo found the child’s parents within a matter of minutes, and if you weren’t sure before, you sure were in love with him.
You dragged him into a dark alley where no prying eyes could see the things you were about to do. You took him and pushed him against the wall, and kissed him hard. He happily grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, pressing his hardening length against you.
“What are you doing?” He hissed into your neck where he left a trail of kisses, causing you to shiver.
“I saw you with that child, and I thought why not try right now?” You shot back. You unzipped his pants to free his hard dick. Your eyes grew at his size every time you saw it. You undid your pants and pulled them down, exposing your dirty little secret, that you weren’t wearing any panties.
“Y/N.” He groaned into your ear as he pressed eager fingers into you. “Shit. You’re so wet for me already.” You took him in your hand and started stroking him slowly.
“You know if we weren’t in the middle of a patrol, I’d definitely take my time.” He told you in between breaths.
“I want you Ka-” He kissed you hard, entwining his tongue with yours. He was so needy for you. He grabbed you by the hips and lifted you on top of him, making sure you and he were lined up. He slowly entered you. The way his hips moved slowly at first to let you adjust and then quickly increased his speed made you moan loudly.
“Keep quiet, dumbass. I don’t want to get caught fucking you on camera. Although that would be pretty hot.” He smiled at you. You were already so close for no good reason. You felt yourself release on him.
“Well, shit. You were already hot for me huh?” He asked you cockily and he increased his speed. You couldn’t deny it felt amazing.
“Tell me where you want me to come, because if you want a child I will give you one.” He teased you. All you could do was nod at him.
“Oh, did I fuck you stupid?” He asked you smugly. He didn’t wait for an answer, he released deep into you, painting your walls white with his seed. He kissed you once more before dressing and acting like he didn’t just fuck you in a dark alley. You got your bearing and did the same.
~~~Present Day that Morning~~~
You had been feeling off all day. It wasn’t like you to feel sick, but here you were feeling nauseous. You ran to the toilet and slammed the door behind you. You let all of your breakfast out.
“Dumbass! Let’s get going, we’ll be late for the meeting.” Bakugo yelled at you. You immediately felt better, quickly rinsed your mouth with mouthwash and walked out the door.
The Commission had summoned all heroes and their sidekicks for a meeting due to the increase in League activity. You often wondered what Shigaraki was thinking, but since he was number two, whatever it was that number one wanted he got. The meeting was boring and lasted a while, and there wasn’t any new information. You were dismissed and were told to continue on your patrol routes as normal.
You felt that same feeling coming over from this morning. You quickly left and ran to the bathroom. You sent a quick message to Bakugo telling him you weren’t feeling well, but you’d see him on patrol. You went to the corner store where you picked up some medicine. You came across the pregnancy tests. You hesitated for a moment, decided against it and kept going. The gnawing feeling at the back of your mind started up again. It didn’t let up until you had a test in your hand.
You headed back home, took some medicine and ripped the test open. You knew you couldn’t be pregnant. There was only one time you and Bakugo haven't used protection, and you had your period since then...right? You didn’t think twice about it, peed on the stick and waited for the results.
It was on your patrol route that evening, when you were confronted by the League.
“Hello, Y/N.” You heard a deep voice.
“Dabi?” You replied, he was ready with his quirk with intent to kill.
“I don’t think so.” Bakugo came charging at him with rage in his eyes.
“Do you think that some pathetic grenades will stop me from killing her? She betrayed us for you.” Dabi confessed. The look on Bakugo’s face changed from rage to utter betrayal. He shook off the words. He didn’t actually believe you’d do that.
“She loves me, you dumb piece of shit. She’s one of us.” He barked at Dabi, firing shots at him.
From the shadows emerged Shigaraki, he silently walked up behind you and clicked his tongue.
“Such a shame, that boy is a fool.” He left you alone for a moment and went over to Dabi.
“Well, if you are one of us, Y/N, finish the job you were sent to do.” Shigaraki shouted to you. “Kill this hero that stands in our way.”
Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall. The anger that radiated from Bakugo’s body was undeniable. His hand wrapped around your throat, tight enough to kill. You gasped, clawing at his hands.
“Kaa-Chan, I’m pregnant.” You whispered. He lowered his hands and walked away. You were the enemy, the one he had to kill. He fought back Shigaraki, and Dabi enough until other heroes arrived to help. He walked back to where you were, all of the feelings he felt for you were real. How could you betray him like this? All his hopes of having a family, being a father, being a husband, and a great hero; were crashing down as soon as they were built. The pain in his face was almost audible, it broke your heart. He took a deep breath, got super close to your ear.
“You’re dead to me. I loved you. I gave you everything I had. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you right here and now. Get your shit out of my apartment. I never want to see you again.” The venom dripped from his words. He turned around and didn’t look back.
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What if the reader is an alien that has the same power as superman and stronger than Homelander? The reader works at the Vought and doesn't know the corruption in it until Butcher told the truth. Homelander acts soft on her when they see each other, and Homelander was still confused about his feelings and put his ego shit first. I kinda wanna see Homelander battling the reader when she was trying to protect Ryan and Butcher while Maeve hasn’t arrived yet. She will make him bleed.
Even the strongest man Bleeds.
Edited 17-01-21
Homelander x Alien! Reader
Warning: mentions of blood, language, mentions of death and murder. Violence read at your own risk.
Bold italics- inner dialogue, Bold- the past.
WC - 3.1k
Masterlist
“The compound V is what makes them, supes. It’s not real and the golden boy, your Homelander, is the most corrupt motherfucker I have ever met. We need your help (Y/N). Please?” his voice was hoarse, the stress in his words were leaking onto his face. She could see the worry on his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe the men in front of her.
“You’re lying to me. Billy Butcher, you have a lot of nerve coming here, you and your gang are mortal enemies to Homelander right now. It’s not safe.” The muscular black man scoffed at her statement and leaned back against the seat. He seemed relaxed but his eyes constantly sweeping the place told (Y/N) otherwise.
“I swear, come back with me and I will show you everything. Please?” his eyes crinkled at the sides as he pulled his face into what looked like a poor attempt at a pleading face. (Y/N)’s mouth was just forming the word ‘NO’ when the man called Mother’s Milk chuckled and leaned forward.
He whispered, “he doesn’t ever say please,” and stood up from the booth and walked out of the café. Her mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons of her current situation. She considered whether or not they were just baiting her into a trap, but she was confident that she could make her way out of it. But it isn’t everyday that two men come waltzing into her favourite café, sit themselves down like they own the place and cough up a semi-convincing story about the corruption at Vought.
“Fuck it,” she whispered under her breathe, “fine I’ll come, it’s good to go out your comfort zone once in a while.” The smile on her face made Billy look at her with confusion painted on his rugged features. She stood, and gestured Butcher to show her the way, “just so you know, I don’t believe you at all.”
(Y/N) replayed her past movement in her head carefully over and over again, and yet she still could not believe how naïve she truly was. But here she is sat in a car that smells like Old Spice, waiting for Frenchie to get the speakers ready. She threw her head back against the headrest and released a shaky breath; everything she believed and knew had been a lie to her. Including John. ‘Oh dear god John, what have you done?’ Her thoughts were getting too loud, they were screaming at her asking how she could’ve been so stupid to not know.
‘How could you not know?’
‘It was right in front of your face you idiot’
‘Your really are a cunt!’
(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, the stress of all the sudden information was taking a toll on the woman. Whimpering under her breath, she opened the car door and inhaled the cold air. Closing the car door, she leaned against it and watched as the group of friends conversed amongst themselves. The plan was to set off the sonic device and John to go over and destroy the source, and when he does Billy and Becca will drive and get Ryan. She still didn’t know why she was needed, (Y/N) was still processing the information she was given 48 hours ago.
“Okay, 15 minutes and everything will be all set,” the French accent let her know who was talking, but she wasn’t paying that much attention when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck arise.
“Get in the cars!” she whispered harshly, her arms waving about ushering the people back into the cars. (Y/N)’s breath shallowed once everyone was in their respected cars, she creeped forward and looked upwards, watching as the uncovered Nazi zoomed by. She vividly remembered the moment she had met that woman. (Y/N) never trusted that woman, something about the way her heart leaped when an opportunity to hurt someone arose. (Y/N) also didn’t like the way John was towards her, all bark, and no bite- vulnerable.
(Y/N) had never seen John so vulnerable around anyone except her.
The metallic taste in the air is what told (Y/N) that Stormfront had just flown by, the hair on the back of her neck relaxed and so did her posture. Walking over to Butcher, she waited until he rolled down his window before she spoke; “She’s seen the leaked news, my guess is she is going back to Vaught to see what caused that, fiasco.” She heard another window come down, not doubt Frenchie and the others.
“Was she alone?” without turning around she nodded. (Y/N)’s tongue ran across the bottom of her teeth before she turned around and faced the two cars, the cars holding the people that brought the truth to her naïve and simplistic eyes. “What exactly am I doing here? Because, you have the weapons, metaphorical and physical to defeat them. So please, tell me why I am here?” her eye followed the movements of the human bodies getting out of the cars. She could see the look on Becca’s face, and she didn’t like it.
“We’re gonna use ya.” Her (E/C) eyes shot towards MM, he stood there tall and domineering, with his hands on his hips. “Starlight, or Annie told us how soft Homelander is on you. And if things go south, you are our pawn.” (Y/N)’s hearts faltered.
“You humans are so pathetic. I mean, I am old. Older than all of you put together, so I have seen shit that no one can imagine. But the one thing that never changes is the utter stupidity of you homo-sapiens, the selfishness and carnage that I have experienced puts my species to shame.” (Y/N) paced back and forth, her anger evident as black veins started to appear under her (E/C) eyes.
“(Y/N). Please, MM didn’t mean it like that,”
“I did. I did mean it exactly how I said it Becca,” (Y/N) stalked the movement of the vigilante group. Her hearing was being drowned by the loudness of her beating hearts. She watched as Becca stepped forwards and stopped right in front of her.
“My son, who was conceived in the most- my son is in there. I don’t know if you have had children before. But I am not going anywhere until I have my boy in my arms. So please, help me.” (Y/N) flinched when she felt warm hands placed onto her cold shoulders, echoes of her past resonating inside her head. She now understood the look on Becca’s face, the look of a mother- a childless mother that no longer understands their purpose in life. Because she was one.
“Okay, but I want this on my terms.”
The little boy was screaming when (Y/N) landed behind John, crying for his mommy to wake up. She looked around, seeing the two women laying lifeless. She was too late to save them. The metallic taste in the air was getting stronger the closer she walked towards the pandemonium. The woman that confided in her mere moments ago, now lay with blood flowing out the cut in her neck. She watched as Butcher tried to stop the bleeding his white hands now crimson. His whole body covered in blood, soaking him to his soul.
Turning her head, (Y/N) saw John knelt next to Stormfront or what is left of her. The burnt woman mumbling in what sounded like German. “Ryan- ‘her attention went from the barbequed supe to John, ‘did you do this?”
“He didn’t mean to John,” she watched his whole-body flinch at the sound of her voice, she was happy to see his face finally, to get some sort of justification. But the feeling that shot through her body was the complete opposite, the look in his eyes reminded her of herself, and she didn’t like it.
“What are you doing here, I thought you left?” he surged forward and cupped her face, (Y/N) placed her hand on his chest and the other on his hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled her John deeply. “(Y/N), you have no idea, I. I don’t understand.” The beating of his heart grounded her for a moment, everything around them disappeared for a moment as the two of them were caught in their own bubble. But (Y/N) knew the bubble had to be popped. And she had the sharpest needle to do it with.
“John, what happened on the plane.” She was met with silence, the hands gripped her face harder, but her eyes still remained closed. “You left them all to die, didn’t you?”
“I did not leave them to die, I tried to save them. You know this (Y/N), why are you asking me this.” His mouth was talking but his heart told her the truth. Releasing a soft sigh, (Y/N) stepped back from John and finally opened her eyes. The bubble burst when his blue eyes met pitch black, her pupils had flooded the white out leaving a demonic presence behind, the black veins appeared all over her body pulsing violently.
“I know everything John, you have been lying to me. I trusted you, and you know that.” He started to mutter words that didn’t make sense to her, his hands anchored in his hair. (Y/N) watched as the great Homelander fell apart right in front of her, Earths favourite and mightiest hero crumbled under the pressure of words.
“Now let them go John. Please?” when his blue eyes met hers, the look rivalled hell itself. His jaw twitched, tongue pocking out to lick his bottom lip. He never broke eye contact with her, his eyes tracked her like predator to prey. (Y/N) moved cautiously, never turning her back to John. Once she was stationed in front of Butcher and the kid, she placed her right arm out and behind her. (Y/N)’s ears were ringing, the power surging through her was immense and yet she felt weak. Weak, it wasn’t a word her species spoke, and she never heard of such a word until she came to earth. Vulnerable, weak, powerless, helpless, defenceless, and fragile; all these words are now part of her vocabulary, and she was feeling every single one of them as she looked at the man she had come to love.
(Y/N) had given him not just one but both of her hearts. He was the first person that offered her his hand when the rest of this new world beat her down with their harsh words, he taught her how the ways of her new life, he was her new life. (Y/N) may have been a celestial being, but she knew when something wasn’t right. At first, she thought John was just trapping her, the distance – although not physical – was fluctuating between then constantly; first John welcomed her with open arms, then he kept her at arms-length when they got too close and then the cycle repeated.
But through all the shit he had put her through, she was still there for him. until now.
“We are going to leave, and you will never trouble them again.” Her vision was sharp as she watched the wrecked man in front of her chose the option she hoped he wouldn’t.
“You know I can’t do that, he’s my son.” And with that he charged towards them, eyes red with hunger and rage. His path changed when he felt a fist connect with his cheek, sending him flying into a tree. His world spun, staggering up onto his feet he made eye contact with the shell of the woman he loves. Her black eyes reminded him of a starless night, an abyss that was forbidden to travel.
Something cold dripped onto his lip, and out of instinct his tongue licked it away, he thought nothing of it until the unfamiliar taste of blood slithered its way down his throat. His naked hand came up and delicately touched his nose, he hissed in pain when his calloused hand touch it, retracting his hand he look in bewilderment at the blood sat there taunting him on his hand.
“You broke my nose,” his voice was meagre but loud enough for her to hear the vulnerability in it.
She turned to Butcher and the child hurriedly telling them , “get away from here, quickly,” and before she could turn back around, she was pinned to the muddy floor. Her face caked in the mixture of blood and dirt; she could feel John’s breath on her neck. Without a second thought she flung her head back and used the distraction to spin around and wrap her hand around the heroes throat. (Y/N) paid no mind to the thoughts pounding in her head, she wasn’t about to let them stop her from – whatever she thought she was doing.
“(Y/N) … (Y/N). please.” the air around them froze, she wanted answers but standing here with her hand around the nations saviour’s throat was not the way she needed to get them. “You lied to me John, the one person who promised to never lie to me. You betrayed my trust.” She threw him to the ground.
“You had me working for monsters. They never helped people!” the wind started to pick up around them, her (Y/H/C) hair danced ferociously around her face, a face that was covered in black veins pulsating in rage. (Y/N)’s head snapped to the right when she heard a twig snap, her vision was met with Butcher and the kid watching her in astonishment and fear. The kid was hiding behind Butcher, just his head poking out watching (Y/N) beat up his father. And god did he look like John.
(Y/N)’s body moved before she could even realise what was happening, her left hand came up to stop the blow coming her way and then she knelt down, using John’s momentum against him, she throw him over her shoulder. But the outcome wasn’t in her favour as he managed to land on his feet. And then he was charging at her. Punches were thrown and bodied flung everywhere, (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to kill John, but it felt good to hurt him.
“He’s my son (Y/N). He needs me!” his words were met with a foot to his chest.
“No one need you John, not after what you did,” her elbow jabbed into his stomach, causing his arms to release her waist, she looked at his body lying pathetically on the forest floor. Americas strongest man, the embodiment of patriotism and pride had fallen to his knees.
“(Y/N), you have and always will need me’, his blue eye sparkled with malicious intent, ‘no one wanted a freak roaming our home, but because I stood by your side, they welcomed you. But the moment I’m gone. You will be nothing. But a monster to the people you love so much.” Blood came flying out of his mouth as he spat his words at her. His armour had crumbled and all he had left was his words.
“Stop” the alien smiled at the hero on his knees, her eyes only moved off his body when she felt a presence next to her. John started to get up, but (Y/N) swiftly moved forward, wrapping her arm around his neck, and gripping his hair with her free hand. She forced him to stay down, on his knees.
Maeve came into sight, moving cautiously like she was afraid he would brake from his bond. She stopped when she was right in front of the disgraced hero.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” (Y/N) could feel John shaking in her grip. The two looked at each other in silence for a while, their eye contact unbreakable. (Y/N) spared a glance at Butcher, who was still stood in the same place.
“You’re going to let them go,” the man in question scoffed but immediately fell silent when (Y/N) tightened her grip on his hair. He cleared his throat, moving subtlety before answering the Queen.
“And if I don’t?” his ego spoke louder than the words coming out of his mouth, he was confident that everything was going his way. Both Maeve and (Y/N) knew that. But the moment Maeve held up the recording of the plane (Y/N) could physically feel The Homelander admitting defeat. The cries of the passengers echoed through her head, along with the bullshit lie the man in her arms fed her. ‘there was nothing we could do, the terrorist had too much control I tried to save them (Y/N). I tried.’
“You’re going to stop hunting Starlight, you’re going to leave me and Elena alone. Or I release this.” there was no room for argument, and he knew that. But he had to open his mouth. “If you do that, I’ll destroy everything and everyone.” (Y/N)’s grip tightened, she dragged his head backward and brought her lips to his bloody ear. Her voice was cold, no hint of vulnerability, no hint of emotion.
She could feel his bones quaking under her arm as she tightened her hold on the man she had come to love. The man that made everything feel less painful, the man that she called a true friend. But standing here in the middle of a forest with two dead women, a sobbing child and a emotionless man; she realised that what her people said about the human race was true. And John had proven that to her. It took everything in (Y/N) not to simply break his neck but she wanted him to hurt.
She wanted him to bleed.
So, she looked up at Maeve and signalled her to get the two boys out of here, she wanted to be alone with him. she willed herself to calm down, she knew she wasn’t in the right headframe to talk to John because if she did so now, his head would be lying two feet way from his body. So, she whispered to the man calmly, hearts no longer racing with hatred or fear. She let the venom in her voice speak for itself as she whispered to Homelander. But she let man she loved hear the pain in her voice, because the man she was holding was not her John, her John had died the moment Butcher and Mother’s Milk sat down across from her in the café. However, (Y/N) had comfort as she let the ten simple words leave her mouth, because she knows that no matter how much Compound V is pumping through his body. Even the Strongest man bleeds.
“If you do that Homelander, I will make you bleed.”
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Hello beautiful people, I hope you enjoyed my little piece, feel free to leave comments about what you liked and didn’t like, I’m okay with a bit of constructive criticism I believe it will help me get better, and if you want anything else.
#homelander x reader#homelander#the boys#violence#angst#blood#queen maeve#alien reader#extraterestrial#the boys x reader
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Glass in the Studio
Description: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | Alex injures himself before your date which means that it’s a trip to A&E instead of a restaurant.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Mentions of blood & injuries?
A/N: This was requested by @supersonic-scientist I really hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think. This is the first of a few drabbles coming over the next few days so enjoy. Likes and reblog are appreciated and as always, thank you to everyone who reads x
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“Miles you really are a fucking idiot.” Alex rolls his eyes as he crouches down on the floor to pick up the now smashed Coke bottle.
“I think you’re the idiot mate. You couldn’t catch a bottle from four foot away.” Miles shakes his head.
Alex looks up at his best mate as if he’s stupid, and also chuckles a little in disbelief, “Why would you throw a half empty bottle at me from four foot away when you could have just passed it me?”
Miles mumbles something under his breath that Alex didn’t quite hear as he starts picking up the glass. There were quite a few large shards that acted as bowls for the smaller shards to sit on as Alex continued to collect the glass from the studio’s wooden floor.
The fluorescent lights that were lighting up the room were making it pretty hard for Alex to actually see the smaller pieces of glass because they blended in with the glossy floor beneath him. However, Alex thought he did quite well with what glass he’d already collected so he asked his best mate to pass the bin over.
This is something Miles does for his friend, but he’s still in a weird mood that the both of them get into when they are in the studio together. So Miles extends the small bin in his hand towards his best mate, but when Alex goes to put the glass in, Miles pulls it away.
No glass goes on the floor again because Miles never actually let Alex get that far, but it was amusing to Miles to see his best friend getting annoyed at him. So he just decided to do it one more time.
This is when tragedy struck. Alex preempted his idiot of a mate to pull his trick again so Alex lunged himself forward ensuring that the glass went in the bin this time, but as he did he threw himself off balance.
His free hand landed right on a decent sized shard of glass, cutting the small muscle on his palm that protected his thumb. And he could feel it stuck in there pretty deep.
“Fuck.” Alex seethed, picking himself up off the floor as he started seeing the blood oozing around the glass that was stuck in his hand.
~*~*~*~
You’d just finished work and you were really excited for your night ahead. You were seeing Alex later and he was taking you out on your 7th date.
You’d been friends for well over 5 years so you knew each other like the back of your hands. But only 6 months ago did you both question if you could be more than the friends you've been for ages.
And as it turns out you could.
You’d loved each and every second of seeing Alex in a romantic sense. He was a real gentleman and you were loving that he treated you like ‘his queen’.
That was a little joke of his because since he’d grown his hair out over the past 2 years after the AM tour, you'd told him that he looked like prince charming but with brown hair. And he was honestly living up to that title because he never stopped looking after you.
Your job stressed you out a lot and with Alex being back and mostly being bored before his tour came back around he was always with you. He gave you a lovely distraction from what your life normally was and he lit you back up again.
You’d really fallen hard for him. And he for you.
That’s why your heart stopped in your chest when you got in the car and found out what had happened. Alex had FaceTimed you saying, “Hey love, sorry to bother you when you're not even home yet but I’m gunna probably be really late tonight.”
“Are you okay?” You ask him as he looks white as a sheet on the screen on your phone. His floppy hair was a mess too.
You didn’t even mind about the date, you’re just worried about him as he looked really unwell. Like more unwell than you’d ever seen him before.
And you’d seen him in some states over the years.
“Erm, yeah and no.” Alex says and panic sets in your stomach, but thankfully he carries on explaining, “I cut my hand on broken glass and Miles is dragging me to A&E.”
“Not dragging you Alex, you’re hand’s cut open.” You can hear Miles say in a scorning voice.
You could see from the screen that he was sitting in a car but he didn't let you ask about his health. He just shushed his mate and apologised, “That doesn’t matter. Y/N I’m really sorry I’m gunna more than likely miss the reservation but I swear I’m gunna make it u-”
You interrupt and ask your boyfriend, “Al, Are you okay?” as he looks very light headed now.
“I’m fine” Alex says before lifting his hand so you could see it in the camera.
You could see that he’d tied a pot towel around it but what scared you was that the bit around the back of his hand was white and the bit on his parm was completely soaked red.
Your heart drops knowing what it was but for some reason you ask, “Is that blood?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” Alex tries to carry on but you don’t let him.
You shake your head and widen your eyes to scorn him for trying to continue on about the date, “You are literally bleeding… There’s more important things Alex.”
“But I just wanted to take you out.” Alex pouts and he leans his head against the window of the car Miles is obviously taking him to hospital in.
He was so adorable but at the same time so stupid.
After you ask Miles which A&E he’s taking him to, you race there yourself. You knew Alex and you knew how he was around doctors, especially when the trip was an unwanted one.
One too many bad experiences left him nervous of waiting rooms and seeing men and women in white coats. He didn’t like it all that much so there was no way you weren’t going.
Whether that be for moral support or to help ease his nerves you didn’t know. You just knew you couldn’t sit at home wondering if the man you love was okay after seeing how much blood was on that thick pot towel.
“Are you okay?” You say as your arms wrap around his waist.
“I’m fine.” Alex says, hugging you while simultaneously keeping his hand raised. “Better now you’re here.”
He kissed the side of your head before he let you go and you sat yourself down beside him. Miles left after you’d all been waiting together for 20 minutes but you assured him that your (but also practically his) boyfriend would be alright with you.
You were waiting an hour in total before you were sat in a chair next to the bed that the nurse had made Alex lie down on the bed and was preparing his hand to be stitched up. The cut was fairly deep and the nurse really wasn’t surprised at how much blood he’d lost considering the size of the wound.
It was lucky the glass hadn’t gone any deeper into his muscle or he could have been in a lot worse situation.
“I’m sorry.” Alex says when he looks away from the nurse to you sitting just beside him.
You frown a little then and look into his soft brown eyes, “What for?”
“This isn’t the date I wanted to take you on...” Alex tells you, pouting his bottom lip a little. “A&E isn’t really what I had in mind for tonight.”
You softly smile at him then and gently rub his shoulder as you say, “We could be here or at a dingy pub or a fancy restaurant and I’d be just as happy because you’re with me.”
Alex just grins at you like an idiot then, even more so when you say, “I’m happy anywhere as long as you’re with me.”
Alex’s heart melts.
“Please give me a kiss.” His Sheffield accent comes through thick when he asks you that.
You grin like the idiot in love that you are before you get up off the chair you’re sat on and kiss your boyfriend. His lips are warm and inviting as they always were and you smile into the sweet kiss as he tries to keep you there a little longer to distract him.
When you pull away, Alex softly smiles, “I love you.”
“I love you more...” You grin and add, “My little damsel in distress.” You run your fingers through his floppy hair and smile when he leans into your touch a bit more.
Alex laughs at that as you sit back down beside his bed and he chuckles, “This make you my prince charming now?”
“Well I’m not the one about to get stitches so I think so.” You giggle, looking over to the nurse who looked just about ready to start.
She moved her wheely table that now held her equipment to start treating Alex and she looks to him and asks, “You ready?”
Alex then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers and after giving it a kiss and a squeeze he smiles and nods, “I am now”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
#alex turner x reader#alex turner#alex#turner#arctic monkeys#arcticmonkeys#alex arctic monkeys#AM#alex turner imagine#alex turner fluff#alex turner drabble#alex turner fanfic#alex turner blurb#alex turner x y/n#alex turner x you#matt helders#nick o'malley#jamie cook#miles kane#whatever people say I am that's what I'm not#favourite worst nightmare#humbug#suck it and see#tranquility base hotel and casino#tbhc#the age of the understatement#everything you've come to expect#alex x reader
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I’ve got a prompt for you! 💜
Ok, I have no idea why I got this idea just now but it opposed into my head and you’re my fave for Modern AUs so I’m passing it onto you! So like modern college au ski trip where Jaskier twists his ankle on the slopes and has to stay behind while everyone else does a moonlight hike or something. Geralt also stays behind and we get some fireside cuddling. Maybe Lam, Eskel, Aiden, and Coen are there to tease or ship it or something when everyone gets back ☺️ Unsure if it’s happening in a cabin or hotel/resort lobby. But yeah. I’m placing it at your feet, do with it what you will 🤗
(geraskier-trashh)
I’m sorry this took so long!! But here you go my darling!!
Ships: Geraskier and Lambden. Also on AO3
Warnings: Minor injury, and sexual references.
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Geralt was pacing in the lobby of their hotel. It was nearly half past five and Jaskier should have been back by now. They were in different groups for their ski lessons, Geralt being a more advanced skier than his friend. All the other ski school groups has returned over an hour ago. Only Aiden and Jaskier remained uncounted for. The sun had crept behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains. The ski lift had stopped working and yet there was still no sign of Jaskier and Aiden.
Lambert was lounged out on one of the sofas by the bar, tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it again in a never-ending rhythm. “Relax.” Lambert sighed. “They’ll be fine. They probably just decided to après-ski”
Geralt growled at his brother. “No, not tonight. Jask knows that we’re night skiing tonight. He hasn’t shut up about it all week. He’s been looking forward to skiing to together for a change.”
Lambert snorted. “Don’t know why you’re letting him. He’ll slow you down.”
Geralt rolled his eyes. “And you’re willingly skiing with a snowboarder.”
Aiden was learning to ski in Jaskier’s intermediate group after lunch but Lambert’s boyfriend’s real skill lay with the snowboard. He tore up the slope when he was on his board and spent most of morning in the snow parks doing tricks and flips off the jumps and rails that could be found there.
Lambert grinned dopily. “The things we do for love, white wolf.”
“How come you aren’t more worried? Your boyfriend is missing too.”
Lambert shrugged and ran a hand through the thick red curls on his head. “Ski school said all the groups were back. You know what Aiden and Jaskier are like when they’re together. I’m surprised they’ve not been arrested yet. Our boyfriends are terrible for each other.”
“Not my boyfriend.” Geralt sighed. No matter how many times Geralt said it, Lambert still insisted on calling Jaskier his boyfriend.
“Their phones probably died.” Lambert suggested, completely ignoring Geralt’s protest.
Geralt shook his head. “Jaskier would never let that happen, besides he has a portable charger.”
Lambert rolled his eyes. “They’ll be fine, Geralt.”
Geralt continued his pacing in the lobby and Lambert restarted his game of catch. The thud of the ball landing in his hand was driving Geralt mad. Every catch was a second passed that Jaskier hadn’t returned. He was having visions of the pair of them being lost off the side of the mountain. The idiots had probably decided to take the lift back up without their instructor and gotten injured as a result. Not even the picturesque hotel could calm his nerves. It was warm and bathed in a soft yellow glow. There were paintings of the ski resort hung on the walls. Some of the paintings showed the resort as Geralt knew it, but there were several of the mountains with luscious green grass. Edelweiss flowers were often found engraved into the wooden frames. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, the warm scent of hot spiced wine filled his nose but it wasn’t enough. He needed the startling blue of Jaskier’s eyes and his gentle chamomile perfume.
The hotel was gorgeous and it was expensive, too expensive but Jaskier’s parents had insisted that Jaskier and his friends had needed a break. The trip had been paid for in full before any of them could protest the cost. The gang insisted on paying for their own drinks though. They refused to let Jaskier’s parents, no matter how rich they were, foot the bill on that one. The hotel overlooked the main slope, a blue run that ran all the way into the village, ending by the bubble lift and a collection of ski rental shops and bars. The best bar for après-ski though was half way up the mountain. Everyone knew that. From their hotel they could often see the drunk skiers and boarders trying to make their way down the hill, at least they could when they weren’t amongst them. Geralt always tried to remain alert enough that he could help Jaskier down. His friend always seemed to forget the steep hill that lay between them and their beds. If it was too bad they would take the snowmobile shuttle back down but Jaskier called him a party pooper when they tried.
From their hotel they could ski in and out of the boot room. It was a luxury Geralt had never known in all his years. He was used to trekking through the snowy villages with his skis on his back, and Jaskier’s too in recent years. The brunet would always whine and pout until Geralt helped to carry his skis. He didn’t mind, not really.
The doors opened letting in an icy breeze. Geralt’s eyes snapped up and the noise of Lambert’s stress ball stopped, bouncing across the tiled floor. Geralt heard the shuffle of fabric but he didn’t look round. Aiden was half carrying a limping Jaskier through the door. Jaskier’s arm was around Aiden’s neck and he had his ski poles in his other hand as a support. Geralt rushed over to help.
“Jaskier!” He growled. “What the fuck happened?”
“We went shopping after skiing. I thought I would be able to buy that painting of the horses you like… as a gift.” Jaskier whined. “But I slipped on some bloody ice. I sprained my ankle. It fucking hurts.”
“Nothing’s broken.” Aiden noted, his soft french accent coming through more strongly like it always did when he got emotional. “We’ve just got back from the hospital.”
Geralt was furious. They’d been all the way to the fucking hospital and no one had said a bloody word.
“Now before you say anything, wolf.” Aiden said sharply. “He landed on his phone and it broke.”
“And yours?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.
Lambert snorted. “As if he charged it last night. He’s a fucking nightmare.” Lambert patted Geralt on the shoulder and then wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist, burying his face into the snowboarder’s neck. “Hey kitten.”
Geralt hummed and he scooped Jaskier up into his arms. His ankle was clearly hurting him and it would help to take the pressure off of it. Geralt watched his brother for a few seconds, noting the way he melted into Aiden’s embrace, and felt bad. Lambert had been worried…. very worried. He’d just hidden that from Geralt because Geralt had been a fucking mess.
And Jaskier was only his friend.
Friend.
The word felt bitter on his tongue.
How long had it been since he’d thought of Jaskier as a friend? He’d been completely gone on the man for at least a few years now. It had been a completely daft revelation. Jaskier hadn’t been doing anything special or even particularly charming at the time. He’d been asleep on Geralt’s bed after Geralt had gotten back from a pub night with his brothers. The brunet had been drooling all over Geralt’s pillows and wearing one of his shirts as he sprawled like a starfish over the bed, and he’d been snoring.
Geralt had watched his friend sleep for a few minutes before he’d realised the snoring wasn’t even irritating, hell he even found it… cute?
And with that the epiphany had hit him like a truck. He was in love with his best friend.
He’d grabbed a spare pair of boxers from his drawers and gone to sleep in Jaskier’s room. It had taken all his self control not to slid into the single bed next to Jaskier.
He’d been in love with him ever since and stoically ignoring it the best he could. Jaskier was very open in his feelings. If he loved Geralt then Geralt would know. His friend wasn’t exactly subtle.
“Are you alright?” He murmured as he carried Jaskier over to the sofas by the large open fireplace in the lounge area.
Jaskier’s arms were wrapped around his neck and Jaskier snuggled up against his chest. It hurt in some ways. It could be so easily interpreted as something more than it was. Geralt wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as he wished for more, he lived for the calm moments of intimacy that fell between them.
“Yeah.” Jaskier mumbled, his face red from the cold. “It’s sore but I’ll live.”
“You won’t be able to ski tonight.”
Jaskier pouted and groaned. “Geralt! We never get to ski together.”
Geralt chuckled and dumped Jaskier onto the sofa before sliding down next to him. Jaskier shrugged out of his bulky teal ski coat and pulled his snood over his head. His hair messed up completely but Geralt thought it looked endearing. Jaskier dropped the layers on the floor before curling up against Geralt’s chest.
“If it’s alright by the morning then we’ll skip ski school.” He suggested.
“Hmmph.”
“That’s a whole day together.” Geralt draped his arm around Jaskier and pulled him closer.
“It’s more romantic at night.” Jaskier sighed.
Geralt’s heart stammered in his chest and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. “Romantic?”
“I meant… fuck.” Jaskier tried to shuffle away but Geralt grabbed his arm and then brought his hand up to Jaskier’s cheek.
“Romantic?” He asked again, his voice low and unsure in his words.
“Ah well. Freudian slip.” Jaskier bit his lip and his soft blue eyes were looking everywhere except at Geralt.
“Jaskier.”
“Yes, darling?”
“Did. Did you want it to be…”
“Yes.” Jaskier answered too quickly. “Of course I do. The whole world knows that, Geralt.” He covered Geralt’s hand with his own and his cheek pressed into Geralt’s palm. “But I know you don’t and that’s alright, dear friend.”
“I don’t?” Geralt asked with a smirk.
Jaskier frowned. “You don’t… Do you?”
Geralt tilted his head and brushed his thumb along Jaskier’s cheek. “I. I do yeah.”
Jaskier’s eyes widened. His face flushed even darker than before. Geralt usually would have said the soft glow of the fire was to blame but he was starting to wonder.
“This could. Well, I mean.” Jaskier gestured to the fireplace. “This could also be… romantic?”
Geralt let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against Jaskier’s, his eyes shutting on their own accord. “Yeah?”
“Hmm.” Jaskier agreed and Geralt could feel his warm breath against his skin.
“Careful. “ He murmured. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
“God forbid.” Jaskier laughed and captured Geralt’s lips in a kiss.
Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s lips, still cold from the icy weather outside. Jaskier’s hands slid into Geralt’s hair and Geralt couldn’t resist pushing Jaskier down onto the sofa so his back hit the soft cushions. His lips brushed from Jaskier’s lips along his jaw and he nipped at the soft skin of his swanlike neck.
“Geralt…” Jaskier gasped quietly and a hand squeezed his arse.
Geralt gave a low growled before sucking hard at the pale skin under his lips, biting gently until a dark bruise began to form. Once he was satisfied by the mark he kissed the tender skin before pressing their lips together once more. Jaskier moaned into the kiss and one of his legs wrapped around Geralt’s arse.
“Oi!”
They broke apart, panting and red faced. Jaskier groaned and buried his face against Geralt’s shoulder. “Fuck.” He muttered.
Geralt smirked at Lambert, not caring that they’d been caught. He was too happy to care. “Brother.”
“You have a room.” Lambert snapped. “Use it.”
“Darling, it’s young love. Be nice.” Aiden purred and pressed a kiss to Lambert’s cheek. “We were going to see if you were still coming out skiing tonight but I see you’ve finally got your head out of your arse instead. Have fun boys, be safe. Don’t do anything I would do.”
Geralt laughed. “Isn’t that supposed to be don’t do what you wouldn’t do?”
Aiden winked. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do, white wolf.”
Jaskier finally emerged from Geralt’s shoulder and held his hand out. Aiden high-fived it with a smirk before Lambert dragged his boyfriend away towards the stairs. “We need to get ready kitten.”
“But darling.” Aiden said loudly, making sure everyone in the lobby could hear. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of those clothes.”
“Fuck.” Lambert cursed. “Little shit, upstairs.”
“You love me!”
“Fuck knows why. Come on.” Lambert gave him a shove up the stairs.
“Stop acting like you’re the one in charge, wolf.” Aiden sang sweetly. “Everyone knows how much you like to beg for—”
Aiden’s words were cut off by Lambert’s hand over his mouth.
Geralt grinned before turning back to Jaskier. He gently brushed Jaskier’s hair out of his eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “You wanna take this upstairs?” He asked gently.
To his surprise Jaskier shook his head. “Not yet.”
Geralt raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am very interested in continuing this upstairs.” Jaskier gently thrust his hips up to make his point. Geralt groaned softly as he felt Jaskier’s erection rub against his. “But I’d like to enjoy the fire a little longer first. It really is rather romantic. A warm fireplace in an alpine hotel with snowy mountains outside.”
“Romantic bastard.” Geralt laughed and bumped their noses together gently.
“Yes, but I am your romantic bastard.” Jaskier paused and licked his lips. “If you’ll have me.”
Geralt sat up, his legs straddling Jaskier’s waist. He rested his hands on Jaskier’s chest. “Mine.” He said softly. “And I’m yours, if you’ll have me?”
Jaskier laughed, his blues eyes crinkling in the corners and Geralt’s heart felt warmer at the sound his melodic laugh. “Of course I’ll have you, you daft idiot.”
Geralt grinned and leant back down to rest his head on Jaskier’s chest. “Hmm.” He replied, hoping Jaskier would understand his words. If anyone could translate then it would be Jaskier, but he was suddenly feeling almost overwhelmed by the emotions in his chest, the happiness. Words just didn’t seem like enough.
Jaskier’s fingers gently combed through his hair and he let his eyes close as he focused on the steady flutter of Jaskier’s heartbeat. “I love you too.” Jaskier murmured. Geralt smiled against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier heartbeat raced a little faster.
“Mine.” Geralt repeated in a whisper.
“Yours.” Jaskier agreed.
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Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @caspertheassholeghost @feraljaskier
#the witcher#geraskier#lambden#modern au#skiing#lambert x aiden#laiden#geralt/jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier pankratz#wolfie's witcher writing#suddenly-a-twilight-blog
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Secret Crushes III: Cinemas, Love Notes & Cuddling
Hallo again my lovelies!
Here's part three for ya.
Part 1 Part 2
Tags: @fandomsaremykryponite @autocon23 @lilythemadqueen @writingdeadangel @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @browneyes528
You were stressed out and panicking.
After your sister's outburst the other day in the woods, Murphy had been avoiding you somewhat. It seemed her threat had made him back off. It rattled you to the core that maybe she was right. Maybe Murphy was an asshole.
You sighed and flopped down on your bed and groaned.
The weekend was dragging like crazy, as had the week at school watching her and Connor suck face while you'd glance towards Murphy hoping to catch his eye but he was always looking away.
You felt so alone.
Like you'd made the biggest mistake of your life by giving the darker haired twin something so special, your virginity, allowing him to use his mouth on you like that... But he had said such sweet things... Made you believe him when he called you beautiful....
"Y/N!"
Your father's loud and slightly angry voice called from the hall. You groaned again and padded out of your room and leaned over the bannister rail. Your eyes took in the form of your dad's broad and tense shoulders and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Your sister was hugging your father happily, which was odd, considering she'd been in a foul mood since they had returned and grounded her for the month following last week's party.
"Y/N! Get ye butt down 'ere now!" Your dad's Irish accent thick with annoyance. You sighed and walked down the stairs slowly, eyes widening as you took in the sight before you.
Smirking brightly, the elder MacManus twin nudged his brother, glancing you up and down. An act your father and sister thankfully missed. You flushed, realising you had yet to change out of your pajamas - a pair of short, bright green shorts and a tight spaghetti strapped top that left little to the imagination.
Your father sighed at you as your eyes flickered to Murphy, whose eyes were focused on your chest as you folded your arms. You blushed under his glare and turned to your father.
"Go get dressed." He growled.
"Why daddy?"
"This gentleman wants t' take ye sister t' the cinemas" He gestured towards Connor, "however, as she is still grounded fer dat ridiculous party," your sister lowered her head in mock shame, barely able to hide her smirk. "You are going t' go wit' her. You will stick t' yer sister like glue. Yer both must be together when yer come home."
"Oh..." you reply, feeling eyes run over you once more. You glanced at Murphy, but his eyes were firmly fixed on his shoes, your head turned slightly to Connor, who licked his lips as his eyes ran down you. "Erm... I... I.... I better get dressed then."
"Go. I need t' talk t' these boys and set some firm ground rules." Your dad all but growled, which made Connor and Murphy flinch.
You ran to your room, your sister quickly following and closing your door quietly behind you. You sighed and grabbed some clothes out of your closet, which your sister threw to the floor.
"I need you to distract Murphy tonight." She whispered, pulling clothes out your closet and pushing them into your arms.
"Sara... Thought you said he wasn't good enough for me and has to keep his hands off your baby sister? Huh?" Your replied, your voice muffled as you dressed.
"Look... I'm sorry. I was kinda jealous... And it is my job as big sister to try and protect you. I'm sorry." She wrapped her arms around you and rested her head against yours softly. "Besides.... I do owe you one. For not squealing on me about the whole barn thing."
"Get off me woman! Fine... I'll try. Though I doubt it'll do any good.... He took ya warning pretty seriously." You sighed, as your sister slumped more of her weight into you. You shove her off and start putting a little make up on. Just enough to highlight y/e/c eyes but still look natural. She smiled and took it from you and quickly applied just the right amount. You glance in your mirror and smiled.
Your sister should be a make up artist you mussed, she'd added more than you usually wore but she had brought out your features perfectly.
You actually felt pretty for once.
She grabbed your hand after you finished getting dressed and pulled you downstairs to the lounge where the MacManus boys sat quietly on one sofa as your dad glared at them from the armchair. He rose and gave you both a hug and shooed you all out of the house with a quiet warning to the twins to have you both home by 11pm.
Your sister laughed as Connor's hand once more left the stirring wheel to run along her thigh. You rolled your eyes as Murphy scowled at his brother.
"Keep ye fuckin' eyes on the road man!" He growled and crossed his arms over his broad chest. You ducked your head and bit your lip, eyes raking down his shirt which strained tightly against his chest. The buttons seemingly ready to pop open at the slightest expansion of his breathing. Murphy gave you a nudge and flicked his hand towards you, a simple, white folded piece of paper between his fingers. You crossed your eyebrows in confusion as he nodded to his hand again. You gently slipped your hand across the seats and took it from him and lay it in your lap. You gave him another look and he nodded at the note, twirling a pencil in his fingers absentmindly.
You unfolded the note and gave Murphy a quick glance to catch his eye but he was looking out the window.
Do ye forgive me?
You smiled as Murphy's hand came into your view, holding the pencil between two of the slender digits. You bit your lip and took the pencil, scrawling a reply.
For?
Ignoring ye the last week
Why did you do that?
Ye sister is fuckin' scary.
Haha not as scary as dad
Aye. So do ye?
Depends...
On?
If you earn it...
Murphy smirked at you as his eyes scanned the note. He shifted his body slightly as the car rounded a corner, using the turn as an excuse to get closer to you. Sara glanced in the rearview mirror and caught your eyes. She nodded her towards Murphy and wiggled her eyebrow before smiling widely as Murphy's hand landed on your knee. You smirked at her and glanced back at Murphy as his other hand cupped your cheek softly.
He leaned in and brushed your lips with his, not noticing his brother glancing at you in the mirror as well.
Murphy's tongue flicked at your bottom lip for access, which you granted and gave a little moan as he ran his tongue around yours. His hand gripping your hip gently and sliding under your shirt to run his thumb across your hip bone. His grip tightening as you kissed him deeply. You parted breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.
"Have I earned ye forgiveness then?" He whispered against your lips. You bit your bottom lip and nodded before kissing him once more.
"Fuck!" Connor yelled as the car swerved to the right wildly before he regained control of the car. Murphy being pushed across the seat to land with his face in your lap. You blushed bright red as he straightened and licked his lip. You both glanced towards thee front of the car and paled. Your sister's body was laid across the seats with her head dipping up and down into Connor's lap. The slurping sounds turned your stomach and you blushed in embarrassment. "Oh god...."
"Jesus Fuckin' Christ! Could ye nat wait til we weren't wit' ya? Fuckin' hell man!" Murphy complained, covering his eyes and yours. Connor continued to moan and pant for several more minutes, the volume increasing steadily until he braked suddenly and gave a deep gutteral groan. Murphy gave a gag of disgust at his brother and his hand over your eyes tighten slightly.
"Ye fucking idiot! Could've killed us all! Carrying on like that!" Murphy whined as he uncovered his eyes then yours, once sure your sister had resumed her seat. Sara smirked at your red face in the rear view mirror as she wiped her mouth, winking at Murphy who scoffed and folded his arms.
"Hey Murphy..."
"Aye?"
"If you're lucky maybe my sweet baby sister will give you one once we get to the cinema." Sara laughed, watching your face and Murphy's change colour several times.
You gave a nervous laugh and buried your face into your shoulder, leaning your too warm face against the cool glass of the window.
Fuck.... Would he expect me to? You panicked, blocking out all sound inside the car. I can't do that! I don't know how! Oh my god... What if he does and I can't get him to cum? Oh my god... Oh my god... Oh my god!
The internal panic didn't fade at all during the rest of the car ride, nor did it as you got to the cinema or when you were buying your snacks or even entering the theatre. It was still there as you and Murphy separated from your sister and his twin. You were nervous to say the least.
Murphy smiled at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, settling comfortably close as you sat in your chosen seats at the back of the theatre. You gulped as you stared at the big blank screen.
"Ye alright beautiful? Ye tense as hell." Murphy whispered into your ear as the screen lit up and his hand ran along your arm softly. You nodded and bit your lip, nerves fired beyond relief.
"I'm fine... Its just... Never mind." You were thankful that the room was near darkness as your face turned bright red.
"What? Tell me"
"It's stupid..."
"If somethin' bothering ye, ye can tell me. I promise I won't laugh." He whispered, brushing your ear lightly with his lips as his hand gently kneaded your thigh. "Is it what Sara said? Cos I wouldn't ever force ye t' do summit ye ain't willing t'..."
You nod and turn to face him slightly, your eyes not meeting his. Murphy chuckles lowly and runs his hand from behind your head to cup your cheek bringing your lips to his gently. You sigh into the kiss as his other hand trails along your thigh and cups your core gently. You pull away and glance around nervously. Thankful everyone's attention is on the screen in front of you.
"Relax beautiful. No one's lookin' at us. Let me really earn ye forgiveness..."
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip harshly as Murphy's talented fingers slip under your underwear and begin to stroke your heated pussy softly, teasingly. You gasp as one briefly grazes your clit and his lip begin to suck and nip at the delicate skin of your neck. You subconsciously shift your hips to grant him more access as his fingers dip between your slicken folds. You give a little whine as his fingers explore your inner walls slowly, feeling him smirk against your neck which was sure to be a lovely shade of purple from his constant attention. You'd definitely need to wear a high collared shirt tomorrow.
Your fingers scrambled to his wrist as his thumb begins to circle your clit in time to his thrusting digits. Your other hand finds his hair and pulls him to your mouth, sealing his mouth to yours hungrily. Your toes curl in your shoes as you suddenly orgasm around his hand and nearly shriek. Luckily the loud explosion on the screen covers your shriek of unexpected pleasure. Murphy laughs as he massages you down from your leg shaking orgasm.
"Murphy... Wow.... Fuck..." You pant, smiling softly against his chest as he pulls you into a tight hug, kissing you gently once more.
"Ferget what ye sister said. I ain't gonna ask ye t' do that. Unless ye ready." He smiles as you snuggle against his chest and begin watching the movie, despite having missed the first 35 minutes of it due to Murphy's wonderful hands.
It was truly a perfect date you smiled to yourself, feeling Murphy press his lips to your head once more.
And you couldn't wait to see what else the night had in store.
#normanreedus#smutty goodness#murphy x reader#murphy macmanus fanfiction#murphy macmanus smut#bds smut#Bds fanfiction#boondock saints fanfiction#boondock saints smut#PhoenixBWrites#Secret Crushes
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hypocrite - h.s blurb
A/N: This is my entry for @oh-honey-styles fic slam challenge. I wanted to write smut, but I was watching Dharma and Greg and this just happened, okay. I hope that you all enjoy this and that you’re taking care of yourselves on such a stressful day. My inbox is always open if you need me and I love you all loads. Thank you Anne for hosting this beautiful challenge to keep us all happy and distracted. You’re amazing!
Word Count: 1k+ (I’m sorry, I have no self control)
Included: Friends to Lovers
Prompts: “Marry Me” / “I’m in love with you” / “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression” / “Can I kiss you”
I can’t really remember when I met Harry.
There were a plethora of options for a possible meeting place to occur. Between pubs that we both visited regularly and parties hosted by mutual friends, it was hard to pinpoint exactly when or where we met. All I really remember is that he wasn’t in my life and then one day, he was. He appeared in the form of a random text after a night of heavy partying.
Unknown Number: Thanks for being my karaoke partner last night.
After a thorough investigation using my camera roll, I put the pieces together. There was a video of me singing karaoke with Harry Styles -clearly filmed by Nick Grimshaw- from a very unflattering angle. His arm was tossed around my shoulder and his smile was bright. We were sharing a microphone, singing Rich Girl by Hall and Oates, extremely out of key.
Watching the video brought a smile to my face, but it also left me with red cheeks when I noticed how I effortlessly kissed his cheek towards the end of the video as if I had been doing it for years. After a few texts, I found myself sharing brunch with Harry at a cafe that I visited regularly on my own. We split a large stack of pancakes and a full English breakfast, sharing fuzzy memories of the night before through chuckles and groans.
I learned that morning that Harry was quite possibly the easiest person to be friends with.
He was fun, supportive, and kind to me even though he’d only known me for a few hours. It struck a chord in my heart strings to see someone so genuine and relatable in our shared line of work. Being in the public eye made finding friends like Harry extremely difficult. I never really knew who to trust or what intentions people had.
That was the beauty of being friends with Harry. I never had to wonder what his intentions were or if he liked me for me. I always knew that I could call him at any hour of the day and he would still answer. I knew that if I needed to cry or scream or shout, he’d be there to listen with open ears and arms. He was everything that I needed in my person.
“I just think that Dharma and Greg are what I need in life.” I reached for another salt and malt vinegar chip, chomping down on it as Harry sipped at his wine. “They’re so effortlessly in love, aren’t they?”
“I suppose.” He nodded. “S’crazy how they just got married on their first date though. I could never do that.”
“Sure you could.” I bumped his shoulder. “When you know, you know.”
“But it’s not…” He pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side as he thought. “It’s not really normal.”
“Fuck normal.” I snorted out a laugh. “Since when do you care about normal?”
“Alright then,” He put his takeout box on the table, angling his body towards mine. “Marry me.”
He raised his brows, watching me as I glared at him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. “I like you, you like me, so what’s the difference? We've known each other for much longer than Dharma and Greg-”
“But we’re not in love.” I emphasized. “That is the difference.”
He rolled his lips in, nodding his head before he reached for his food.
I watched him as he grabbed his fork, digging it into saucy noodles silently.
“You okay?”
“Mhm.” He hummed around his noodles, glancing over at me. “S’really good italian food, but I’ve got to stop eating carbs.”
“Harry.” I said slowly. “You’re not going to say anything about-”
“Nope.” He said quickly, wiping at the sauce on his chin with his thumb. “I don’t have anything to say.”
“How about, ‘Y/n, you’re right! I forgot for a second that we aren’t in love. Silly me!’.” I mocked his accent, causing him to glare at me playfully. “Because the way you turned away made me think that maybe-”
“I’m in love with you.” He snorted out a sarcastic laugh, rolling his eyes as he reached for his wine to mask his true feelings. “Sorry I gave you the wrong impression.”
He shrugged his shoulders before taking two large gulps of his wine, causing my eyebrows to raise. I kept my eyes on him as the television show that started our argument kept playing in the background. My palms felt clammy as I watched him fidget in his seat. I felt the gears in my mind grinding, thoughts coming together and emotions surfacing from pits I’d buried them in ages ago.
Of course I had feelings for Harry.
He was my person.
“Harry, can you be serious for a second?” I asked him.
“Darling, I really don’t think we should-”
“Please.” I whispered. “I need you to look at me.”
“Y/N.”
My name fell from his lips in a honeyed tone, his fingers brushing over his bottom lip anxiously. It was a nervous trait of his that I picked up on early in our friendship. I’d seen him do it a million times in interviews when he was in the band, always afraid that he’d say the wrong thing.
“Do you love me?”
There was no point in pussyfooting around it.
He let out a sigh, reaching up to brush his fingers through his hair.
“I’m so in love with you.” It came out in an exasperated huff, his eyes darting over my face as he waited for my response. “I know that we’ve been friends for a long time and there’s a chance that you don’t feel the same, but I can’t stop thinking about what could be if we just tried.”
I blinked back at Harry silently.
“You don’t feel the same.” He stated softly. “I should have known that you didn’t feel that way about me, you’ve never given me reason to think otherwise. I’m such a fucking idiot for thinking that-”
“Can I kiss you?” I blurted out, pinching the fabric of my sweatpants nervously.
His brows raised and I noticed his lips turning up slightly at the corner, causing his dimples to pop out.
“Stop looking at me like that and just kiss me, you idiot.” I rolled my eyes, pressing my palm into his stubbly cheek.
It was a quick peck, barely enough to get a true feeling for it, but it still left me wanting more.
“Again.” I whispered into his mouth, tilting my head slightly until our lips melded together. I tried to fight off my smile when it was done. “Again.”
“Darling.” I felt Harry’s palm slip towards the back of my neck as he let out a breathless chuckle. “You’re killing me.”
“I love you, too.” I pressed my forehead into his, biting my lower lip. “I love you a lot.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He pulled back with a pout, his eyes soft. “How long have you known?”
“Don’t be a hypocrite.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t really know until….well, you said something last New Years about how we’d always be in each other’s lives and I’ve never stopped thinking about it. A piece of me has always thought that you were right and that maybe you’re my soulmate.”
“I fell in love with you the night I met you.” He smiled softly. “I felt a bit like Greg when he met Dharma, like worlds were colliding. I remember singing karaoke with you and I just...I felt like I’d met my other half. You’ve always been the person in my life that understands me and supports me, no matter what I’m going through.”
I pressed my lips to his again, giggling when he brushed his thumb over my neck.
“Kissing you is weird,” I confessed as I settled back into my side of the couch, my shoulder a little closer to Harry’s. “I kind of like it though.”
“Thanks.” He snorted out a laugh. “I’m glad you think I’m a weird snogger.”
“It’s just new.” I rolled my eyes, glancing at his face. “I said I liked it.”
“Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Just wait until I kiss you in other places.”
“Harry!”
#hsficslam#fluff#tooth rotting fluff#harry styles blurb#I'm sorry y'all I wanted something saucy#I hope you think this is cute#also i've been binge watching dharma and greg so#yeah
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i sometimes join rooms in languages i dont speak in among us and everyone thinks im an impostor since i dont and cant say shit. imagine a situation like that? the impostor is like "shi-- they gonna see its me, ah wait there's this person who's gonna be my scapegoat, im fine--OH WAIT ITS MY DARLING i dont want them to leave either" so the impostor has to "protect" their darling from being ejected while not being suspicious themselves - brazilian anon
Lol boo, me too! I can't type fast enough in english when I'm playing online games. I hope that we get Latin American Servers on Among Us because the ping keeps going off the roof!
Also, welcome in, Brazilian anon!! 💕🇧🇷
I love this request tho, let's do this!
TW/Tags: Some slight fluff because I'm soft // imposter x human, alien x human dynamic // crewmate being an ignorant asshole >:/ // pretty short if I'm being honest lol
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
Wait- It's not me! [Yandere!Among Us x Reader - Headcanon]:
Honestly, what the hell! It's not you, they should know this by now!
"- [Y/N] has been pretty quiet lately, I'm pretty sure they're the killer."
"- I-I'm not-"
"- Speak a little louder if you're not the killer then."
"- I'm trying, you ass!"
This emergency meeting has been ridiculous. Your heavy accent making things worse as they say "we can't understand you" but truth is that they are tired of not knowing who is the true Imposter.
And while you're panicking thinking you'll be thrown off of the spaceship, the real imposter is sweating just as much if not more than you. They can't let you be thrown off, it wasn't you!
Just the thought of losing you because of these imbeciles makes their blood boil.
"- [Y/N] was with me the whole time, I haven't seen them kill anyone!' They tried defending you.
"- Aight cool, but what if you two are Imposters, huh?" One of the crewmates asked. The one guy that has been an ass during this entire time.
"- Yo, but there is only one Imposter-" Someone tried reasoning with the guy, yet he interrupted them
"- And how can we be sure of that?" He said.
Good. Great. This was perfect. They were now yelling at each other! Everyone was already feed up with this bullshit, until someone said:
"- I accompanied [Y/N] to medbay, I saw them scan. They aren't the imposter."
"- Then why didn't you say earlier?? Are you brain dead?"
"- Oh shut up, you have been yelling at everyone and bossing everyone around ever since we came here!"
"- Well, at least I know how to speak english, have you guys ever considered that an alien would also struggle to-"
An loud beep noise interrupted everyone.
They were feed up with this. They were exhausted if not insanely pissed off by this asshole. The true Imposter has voted on the guy that was accusing you unfairly.
Everyone was shocked by the sudden reaction, even you didn't know what the hell just happened.
Oh, if only they could get out of their seat and kill that asshole with their own hands! How unfair, how ignorant, how despicable!
Their anger was almost animalistic and everyone was able to see it.
Yet, no one cared. No one cared that they have voted before the discussion ended.
Because everyone aggred with their decision. Vote the asshole out.
"- Y-You guys are committing a big mistake! Without me- You all are going Y-You die!" The guy tried to convince the crew to let him stay, yet, it didn't work.
"- We made our decision. You're too dangerous to stay aboard, as your votes are rigid by judgement of others instead of facts. [Y/N] may have a strong accent, but they have been an reliable crewmate ever since we entered the spaceship, while you on the other hand has only been rude and voting innocent people off, you haven't done a single task ever since you entered here."
The crew made their decision, and the crewmate was voted off his like that. But before he could feel the cold from the void, they realized something, but it was a little too late.
The Imposter was smiling at the event unfolding before their eyes, their smirk hasn't gone unnoticed by the voted crewmate.
' I didn't need to even say much. This was perfect.' Thought the Imposter.
"- W-Wait listen! I'm so-rry! Wait don't do this- I-I know who it is!"
"- You have lost your chance buddy."
"- Please hear me out, you're all gonna die! Listen to me you idiots-"
The crew kept on dragging the screaming dead man while he frantically tried to warn them of the real imposter.
You were probably wondering what the fuck just happened. It's good that the jerk has been voted off, but still, you can't help but feel a little sad.
Yes, they have accused you multiple times, and even voted on you multiple times, yet- Imagine being through into space?
It's a cruel punishment, yet the person that is going to receive it is also pretty cruel. You can't tell what you're supposed to be feeling right now.
But don't worry darling, all you're worries are going to be brushed away as long as you let your trust worthy friendly neighbor crewmate take care of you!
Physically soothing your worries with a hug, sounds really nice right?
"- I know that this was an stressful meeting, I believe in you [Y/N], I know you haven't done the killings."
"- Would like to hang out in my dorm room? Maybe having someone to talk to would help you feel better."
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
#yandere#sheep stuff#sheep's stuff#yandere x reader#yandere headcanon#yandere among us headcanon#yandere among us x reader#yandere among us#yandere alien x reader#special delivery headcanons#special delivery request
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Please Don't Leave
A/N: Halfway requested, but not really but I adore the light of my life (@bestintheparsec) and she deserves this 💕 Enjoy! Prompt used: “Would you rather kiss me or die?”
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Warnings: None
Javier Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
"What? What's wrong?" Javi asked as you moved next to him, trying to keep your composure and break down in scared, nervous tears. The two of you were currently tied up next to each to other in the middle of nowhere in Colombia in a dark, dirty basement.Not exactly the best of situations to find yourself in.
But here you were. All because of one little wrong move when trying to close in on one of Escobar's many sicarios. It could have been worse but...no. This was pretty damn bad.
"Nothing," you lied, refusing to turn around and look at him, "just uncomfortable. You know this whole tied you thing isn't exactly fun."
"Babe-"
"Don't call me that," you hissed at him, scooting further and further away. As much as you could in the dark, dank basement. Enough to create a small distance between your bodies.
"Just tell me what's wrong," he insisted as you scoffed, "I'm not a complete moron."
"I...I'm scared, Peña," you admitted after a few moments of tense silence. You hadn't wanted to admit it, especially not to him, but this time...you just felt worried. Normally, almost nothing phased you anymore after all the horrors and atrocities you encountered on an almost daily basis. But this did, "and if you ever tell anyone I said that or make fun of me, I will kill you. If we get out of this alive. Which is looking very slim right now."
"I wouldn't..." he promised quietly. It was silent for a few moments as he seemed to be contemplating something, "listen I have a plan. It's not much, but I think its the best we have right now.
"I'm willing to listen to whatever plan you have that doesn't involve us dying," you sighed softly.
"They come back, we pretend we don't speak any Spanish, that we're just a tourist couple," he suggested as you groaned. It was a weak idea at best, but at this point you were almost willing to give it a try, "I don't know if they recognize our faces enough to know who we are. We just have to play it up, act like a real couple."
"Nuh uh. Not happening," you insisted firmly, a sharp tone to your voice, "nope. I'd rather..."
"What? Would you rather die or kiss me? Act like a couple to try and get out of this," he asked as you remained silent. It was tense as you mulled over his words. Eventually he groaned loudly and in an exasperatedg tone asked, "really? You can't just say yes?"
"I'm thinking!" you scoffed as he sighed deeply, his signature trademark, "its a close decision!"
"You didn't have any problems with it a few weeks ago. You were more than willing to kiss me then," he reminded as you cringed. You wished he'd hadn't brought that up. You wish you could have forgotten that night and scrubbed it from your memory. But no - it was still etched, deep and painful.
"Yeah, well that ended up as a one night stand, so it doesn't even matter," you insisted quietly, reminding him of the harsh reality of the situation, "let it go, Peña."
"It didn't have to be. I didn't think it would be," his response so soft and quiet you almost didn't hear it. But you did - loud and clear. You tensed up, unsure of what to say, "you were gone when I woke up..."
"You didn't...we didn't ..." you hung your head as you searched for the right words, but they seemed to fail you, "we were drunk, Javi. We are...were friends. It shouldn't have happened. We just got caught up in the moment."
"I wasn't drunk," he insisted softly, "were you?"
"No," you said, "I wasn't..."
"Then why did you leave?" he asked, and you were almost sure that there was a shake to his voice, "you've been avoiding me like the plague ever since. You barely even look at me anymore. I get if you don't want this, but can we at least try and be friends - partners?"
"I was scared...I am scared," you confessed, "I didn't want to ruin anything. I didn't...I'm not a one night stand type of person, Javi. I want more than that. And I wasn't sure what happen if I told you that. I figured it was better if I just kept my distance."
"I didn't want it be a one time thing," he replied and you turned to face him, searching for those soft brown eyes in the dim light, "I want this to be more."
"I didn't think you were the relationship type," you knew he penchant for having often a different partner and seeking his pleasure within brothels. Everyone did - not that you held that you held it against him, "I just don't...I don't know, Javi. I like you, a lot, and I don't want to fuck anything up. I'd read just keep you as friend than fuck anything up."
"Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to come along," he said gently as he reached up with his tied hands to touch your cheek, "when I kissed you that night, I didn't intend for to start and stop that night. I. Like. You. I don't know how else to make that clear."
"Me?" you asked in a surprise as he laughed and nodded, "Javi, I...I like you a lot too. I have for a long time."
Before he could respond, the door to the basement opened with a loud bang and a gruff voice calling out to the two of you. As best as he could, Javi pulled you towards him and kissed you. You were surprised for a moment but quickly melted into his touch. It was easy to get lost in him, his touch, scent, taste - all of it.
"Hey!" the man pulled you apart as looked at Javi with wide eyes. But he shot you a wink before the man continued on in Spanish, "knock that shit off."
"No...we don't speak Spanish," he lied as the man frowned at the two of you, "tourists. We're tourists from America."
"Tourists?" he replied as Javi nodded.
"Why are we here?" you played along, feigning innocence, "we just want to see the city."
The man had fire in his eyes as he stated spewing at the two of you. Of course you understand every word, but you weren't about to let him know that. Instead you put on a confused face as you hoped that neither of you would blow the little charade.
As he went on and you remained silent, he eventually gave up. For a little added effect you'd let some tears roll down your cheeks, which were partly from the stress of the situation and partly acting.
He left for a minute and the two of you remained silent as Javi squeezed your hand for reassurance. You weren't risking anything just yet. After some time he came back, stomping and huffing, muttering to himself under his breath.
Before either of you could question anything, he untied the zip ties from your wrists and hoisted you to your feet.
"Go," he said gruffly in accented English, "get out."
You reached for Javi's hand as you ran up the rickety stairs, holding onto it for dear life. Neither of you stopped until you were outside in the daylight and a safe distance away, almost back into the city center.
When you finally felt somewhat safe again, you doubled over to catch your breath, almost not able to believe your good luck.
"That man had to be a huge idiot if he believed us so easy," you said as Javi nodded, "good thinking, Peña. I'm glad it worked."
"I told you it would," he smirked lightly, "but now there's one more thing I need to do."
"What?" you asked but were quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to yours. It didn't take long to react, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you. When you break apart for a breath of air, you couldn't help but grin at him, "please don't leave next time."
"I won't," you promised softly, "I'm not going anywhere."
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Watch the Sunlight Fade: 13 / 17
Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.
Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.
Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.
A/N: Heyooo time for more smut! And more answers. And more cliffhangers.
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~~~~
The destruction in the apartment is clear the moment she walks in, feeling Killian’s watchful eye leave her as she shuts the door. There’s broken glasses and plates on the floor, Neal having cleared off the counter in what she assumes is his anger. She can’t think of another reason for him to be so destructive, picture frames smashed in the living room and fluffy pillow feathers flying through the air, but she certainly allows her mind to wander.
What if he knows? They’ve been careful, but what if someone besides Rufio had seen them?
“Neal?” She asks tentatively, clutching the strap of her purse tightly.
She hears another crash from his bedroom in response to her voice and cringes. The door opens forcefully, slamming shut behind him as he storms into the living room to meet her.
“Where the fuck were you?” he asks threateningly.
“I was at the store,” she answers, her voice small and weak, although she thinks it unwise to make a show of strength. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits. He fumes in anger again and picks up a vase that she had filled with flowers she bought herself, hurling it at the wall to her right and sending water and glass towards her. “Rufio is fucking dead , that’s what’s wrong!”
She pales immediately, realizing that he must know of their involvement in his death. There’s not much for her to say, unable to defend herself as she and Killian both know that their actions were wrong. She only wonders now if he also knows of the affair they’ve started. “Neal…” she croaks out in terror, unsure how to continue.
But to her surprise, he falls to his knees, his hands catching his head as he lets out a sob. “Who would do this?” he cries, sending her mind racing. “Who would kill my friend?”
She shifts, the sudden realization striking that he isn’t angry at her, he simply finds it appropriate to take his anger out on her. She has to adjust now, unable to hold onto the fear of him discovering her dangerous secret and required to shift into her role as doting girlfriend. She has to keep up appearances, as much as it pains her to do so.
“Babe,” she says softly, “I’m so sorry.”
Once she’s close enough to him, he grabs at her hand, pulling her roughly into his arms and squeezing her too tight. His actions are forceful, but not at all surprising. He holds onto her, sobbing into her hair and making her cringe as he cries for his loss. He says things like, how could someone do this to me, and it makes her realize that he isn’t sad about his friend’s death. He’s sad that someone has hurt him. He thinks this is personal.
While he cries, she looks around the apartment and wants to cry herself. He’s broken so many things, and even though almost none of it was hers, she still feels sadness in the wake of the destruction she sits in. When she looks to the bookshelf frightfully, she realizes she doesn’t see the one and only object that she covets as hers and lets a tear escape.
He’s angry. But he didn’t have to take his anger out on the one thing that he knows means something to her.
~~~~
“The Kings of Elsinore will pay for what they’ve done to us,” Peter says commandingly, his fist slamming against the table before him and making Emma startle. Many of the men around the table nod, grunting in agreement, including Killian.
He’s careful not to stare at her too much, although it’s difficult. Aside from his love for her and his disbelief at her beauty, it’s hard not to stare in an attempt to ensure that she’s alright. They haven’t been able to talk since she left this morning, but he doesn’t see any evidence that she’s been harmed. He knows that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been, though.
“The murder of Rufio was a heartless and psychotic act with the intention of hitting us where it hurts. Rufio was heir to one of our club’s founding members, and his death will not go unpunished.”
Killian shudders in his seat, the action making Rob turn to look at him and cock his head. He’s sure Peter means it, and he’s sure Killian’s punishment will be worse than anything he doles out to the Kings if he finds out.
He can’t find out, though. Because if he does, he could find out why it happened, and he can’t risk Emma’s safety like that.
“We’re going to hit back, which is why Miss Swan is here today,” he continues. His words draw Emma’s attention up from her hands as her big eyes stare at Peter. “It has become imperative that you identify something we can use against the Kings. Any help you need, you’ll have. Hook,” he calls, shifting his focus.
“Aye?”
“Continue to assist Miss Swan in her search. Remove the security features if you have to.”
“If it’s alright,” Robin starts, causing Killian’s eyes to grow twice their size, “I’d like to help as well. I believe my tracking skills may be useful in helping Miss Swan decide where to look.”
“Fine,” Peter agrees, waving him off. “As for the rest of you, prepare for a battle. If it’s a fight they want, then a fight they shall have.”
~~~~
She drops into the too-firm chair and it squeaks under her weight, a groan escaping her lips as she jimmies the mouse of her computer. He can’t help the small smile that pulls at one corner of his mouth, her dramatic entrance bringing him joy despite the stress they're all under.
No one says anything at first; it’s awkward with Rob being here despite him being one of Killian’s closest friends. Even though he trusts him with his life, he isn’t sure he’s ready to hear the truth of their relationship after how many times he insisted that Killian avoid this.
Once her computer boots up, she straightens and he takes a seat in his usual spot, gesturing to another folding chair across the room in an invitation for Rob to sit. “Want me to remove the securities, love?”
“No, I don’t want you to remove the securities ,” she responds in a mocking tone, mimicking his accent as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn child; I know how to take off parental controls.”
Killian raises his brows, looking at her in surprise, and asks, “then why haven’t you?”
“Because I’m also not an idiot,” she responds, glaring at him before turning back to the aged screen. “I’m not stupid enough to try and go against Peter’s rules.”
He gives her a small smile, one that he can’t seem to give to anyone else, and can't seem to help giving her, and nods. “That’s right,” he agrees softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He almost forgets his place, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and plant a kiss on her beautiful-- if not thoroughly chewed up-- lips. It’s obvious enough that something’s irritated her, and he wants to get to the bottom of it and console her so that the light comes back into her eyes. He’s greedy like that, he supposes.
“I bloody knew it,” he hears, Rob’s grumbling voice yanking him violently from his thoughts and his desires.
Killian turns quickly, as does Emma, both of them staring at Robin in surprise, as if they forgot about their audience.
“You’re fucking her,” he accuses, nodding and tightening his jaw. “Killian, mate, how many times have we talked about this--”
“Rob,” he starts hurriedly as he stands, his hands held out in a plea. Without words, only his eyes communicating to his friend, he begs for forgiveness and discretion and kindness. “Mate…”
He can’t even look at Emma yet because he knows that the look on her face will break him. He knows that she must be gnawing at her lip, her brows high on her forehead and her eyes desperate and terrified. “I’m not going to say anything,” Rob finally says, his eyes meeting Emma’s rather than Killians, confirming his hunch. “You two have royally fucked up, but your secret’s safe with me.”
He hears her sigh and worries that she could be crying, so he turns to her. He’s met with her dropping her head into her hands in relief, and he hurries to squat in front of her, taking her hands in his. “It’s alright,” he whispers, running his thumbs over her knuckles. Her dim, glassy eyes meet his and she shakes her head.
“We can’t-- he knew after two minutes. We have to go,” she murmurs softly, but he sees something shift in her. She sits up slightly straighter and gazes into his eyes seriously. “Can we trust him?”
“Yes,” he confirms while he squeezes her hands. He knows they can, but he turns back to look at Rob anyway.
“You can trust me, lass,” he vows, understanding as Killian begs him to. “I swear I won’t say a thing, but you’re playing a dangerous game. What’s the plan here?”
“We’re leaving,” Killian answers simply. “As soon as possible. We would have tonight, but Neal came back early.”
“He didn’t come back early, you dolt. They never left.”
He pales, his face falling, and he feels Emma's squeezing his hand. She must be thinking exactly what he is. They had both assumed that Peter and Neal somehow heard about Rufio and had returned, but the fact that they hadn’t even left is somehow more concerning.
“How… how did they find out?”
Rob snorts, shaking his head. “Right, you were too busy to-- hang on. Killian… tell me you didn’t--”
“Rob--”
“You didn’t. ” His face falls pale as well, the look he gives his friend chilling. Killian can feel the disappointment and terror radiating off of his oldest friend easily, and it does nothing to quell his nerves. “Killian, tell me right now that you didn’t kill him.”
“I had to,” he whispers, shaking his head in self hatred. “He attacked her. Said he would-- he said--”
“ Fuck, he caught you, didn’t he?”
“Robin,” Emma interrupts, trying to stop the two of them from going at it and speaking too loudly. They’re bound to tip someone off if they keep this up. “What Killian did… He knows it was wrong, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Rufio attacked me. He was protecting me, and now… I have to protect him. We have to get out of here, because if they find out that Killian shot Rufio, he’ll be worse off than your friend, Liam.”
Rob is quiet for a moment, allowing Killian to absorb her words. She’s right, of course. They’ll deliver him a fate much worse than that of his brother if they find out.
“Too right, love,” Rob agrees finally, nodding and running his hands over his face. “I’ll help you however I can, so long as the two of you take me as well.”
“Of course, brother. I’d hoped to grab Tink and Elsa as well.”
He and Emma hadn’t spoken of his previous dalliances, and he only hopes that his intention to bring Tink along with them doesn’t offend her. It’s not as if he plans on staying with her long, but she deserves to get out just as much as they do.
“Only because of Liam, and Tink is--”
“It’s okay,” she cuts him off with a smile, her hand squeezing his. “Of course we’ll bring them.”
He can hardly take the amount of love he has for her, her unequivocal understanding of every piece of him hard to wrap his mind around. He gives her a genuine smile, and her gaze meets his, giving him the beaming sunlight in her eyes of which he’ll never tire.
~~~~
The service they hold at the Rabbit Hole is only slightly deranged. The message is clear enough: Rufio’s loss of life is seen as a personal attack against the club. His death is not sad because his life ended, it’s sad because the club is suffering.
It’s nauseating.
The only thing that keeps her head on straight is Killian, the gentle looks he shoots her from across the bar where he sits with Rob shooting warmth through her heart and to the pit of her stomach. His presence is so soothing, so grounding. It makes her feel steady and strong to be with him, to even be near him.
Each time she catches him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, she feels her heart rate picking up. He drives her mad, she’s discovered. They’ve only just begun their relationship with one another, but it feels stronger than any she’s ever been in if only based on the physical connection they have with one another. She’s never felt this way about anyone before. She’s been with men before, men before Neal, but it was always transactional and cold. It was fine, but it wasn’t great. With Killian, it’s mind numbing.
He reads her effortlessly and flawlessly. He knows exactly what she needs when she needs it. He’s known exactly how to bring her over the edge each time, and she can only foresee their sex life getting better as they grow closer and closer. She can’t wait to grow closer to him.
The overwhelming feelings of disgust and discomfort are washed away easily each time he stares at her and are replaced by a feeling of undeniable need. The pressure builds where she needs him the most, arousal washing over her and through her until she can barely stand it, and the feeling of Neal’s hand landing on her shoulder makes her jump. “Want a drink, babe?” he asks, as if completely forgetting the conversation they had last night. He hasn’t even bothered to ask her of the results of her tests yet.
“I’m actually gonna just run to the bathroom,” she says with a smile. “Not feeling great, I’ll be back.”
She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she stands and heads towards the bathroom, relying on the dank darkness and the slowly dripping faucet to distract from the overwhelming moodiness of the bar and her overwhelming arousal at the thought of Killian’s hands on her.
She focuses on her breathing for a moment, hoping to slow things down around her and calm her racing pulse. The sense of peace is short lived; the door opens slowly, making her heart rate pick up. But when she sees him, she relaxes easily, a smile creeping onto her face. “You need to be careful,” she insists quietly, although she can’t help but giggle as he locks the door and pounces on her.
He lifts her onto the counter and his lips are on hers instantly, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her towards him. Her legs wrap around his and her arms grab for his shoulders, her nails digging into the rough fabric of his button down shirt.
With his mouth trailing hot kisses along her flesh, his teeth scraping against her neck, he finds his way to her collarbone and murmurs, “I couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.”
She gasps in surprise at his words, a wave of arousal rushing through her and landing in her core, twisting her and encouraging her to tighten her legs around him in search of friction and pressure. “Fuck,” she whispers as his hands and lips move the cup of her bra to the side.
“Do you want this?” he asks, seeking consent before latching his lips to her hardened nipple. She nods fiercely. “ Gods , how I crave you.”
“Killian,” she breathes, “touch me.”
His mouth devours hers again, his hand sliding down the front of her and finding the waist of her jeans. He tugs, drawing her closer to him and, without breaking their lips apart, snaps her button undone and slides her zipper down quickly.
“Are you wet already, Emma?” he asks roughly, his fingers sliding over the cotton that’s already nearly soaked through. He growls. “You are; that’s a good girl.”
“Yours,” she mumbles, her arousal taking over and her mind barely able to keep up with what her mouth says.
“Aye, mine,” he agrees, nipping at her bottom lip. He pushes her garment aside and slips his fingers through her folds, groaning when he finds her sodden for him. “So responsive,” he praises. “So perfect for me.”
With a moan as his mouth presses to the sensitive skin under her earlobe, she nods again, wanting to reinforce to him that she’s his . Only his. Simply, she tells him, “I love you.”
His fingers glide over her clit, pinching quickly and dragging a whimper from her throat. “I love you so much I can scarcely breathe,” he whispers. “I can’t stand to be away from you.”
“Then don’t make me wait,” she begs in a whisper herself.
He moves his hand away from where she craves him and quickly moves his own jeans, and Emma wriggles until her pants are falling around her knees. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” he vows, smoothing his weeping cock along her clit as she wrestles with the condom wrapper. When she finally has it open, she places it over his tip and slides her fist down to the base.
“Where will we go?”
She gasps when one finger slips into her followed closely by a second, curling against her expertly and sending her searching for his mouth with hers. He swallows her cries when his thumb gently presses against her clit.
“Your heart’s desire, Swan,” he says, lining his cock up to her waiting entrance. “I promise, that’s all I want you to have.”
Their foreheads press together, their noses too, and she bites her lip as he pushes inside. She clings to him, her fingers gripping the back of his shoulders, her heels digging into his backside, her core squeezing around his cock. After a few perfectly timed, perfectly angled thrusts, she whispers, “I just want you.”
He holds her so close to him as one hand grabs onto her ass and the other holds her jaw and neck. His thrusts are quick, but deep and effective, striking her exactly where she needs him. He groans when she clenches around his cock again.
His hand slips around from her back so that his fingers can dance over her clit with each thrust. Emma moves her hands up to the back of his neck, gripping his hair and begging him for more in each moan against his mouth. It’s not long before he has her a writhing mess in his arms, pleading for release.
“Come on, angel,” he encourages gently but firmly as he gives her another flawless thrust. “Nice and tight for me, aren’t you? I know you’re ready, love. Come for me.”
His voice is tenacious, but still so tender, so caring in the way that he loves her. She’s never felt so loved and safe while being spoken to in such a dominating tone, and she loves it. She loves the freedom that comes with being commanded and feeling safe at the same time. She never knew the two could coexist.
At his behest, she clenches once more and cries out his name, his mouth muffling the sound as he spills into her. They hold each other firmly, panting as they ride out their highs together, although they’ll never be sated. They’ll never have enough of each other, always craving more.
“Bloody hell, I love you,” he says when they catch their breath.
She hums happily, if only because she’s still panting too hard to speak. She kisses his neck, her lips lingering on his soft, sweat coated skin. “I love you,” she whispers. Then, because telling him once will never be enough, she moves so that her tongue traces his earlobe and repeats, “I love you.”
He moves her hair out of her face when she pulls away slightly, then presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry to come in here so… rudely,” he laughs. “But I--”
“I’m glad you did,” she smiles. She winces slightly as he pulls out, stepping away to dispose of the condom and exposing his bare ass to her, tempting her to pull him back to her. “Are we really gonna be able to go tomorrow?”
“Aye,” he smiles and returns to her to kiss her once more. “I just need to tell Tink and Elsa. We’re to meet by the docks; Robin knows already.”
“You have a plan?”
“Somewhere quiet,” he answers, “hidden away, unsuspecting… but it must be by the beach, aye?”
“Aye,” she giggles and he straightens her shirt with a smile. “And?”
“Nantucket.”
“Nantucket?”
“Mmm,” he hums as he helps her off of the counter so that she can fix her pants. “Quiet, secluded island, enough tourists to help us blend in. Plus, infamously beautiful beaches for an infamously beautiful woman.”
She wraps her arms around his neck, pushing onto her toes and kissing him. “Sounds perfect.”
“Emma…” he starts, and she can sense the shift between them. He’s thinking, his self-anger and self-hatred sneaking through the joy he felt moments ago. “If it weren’t for what I did--”
“Please,” she whispers. “You know that I love you. The fact that you killed Rufio doesn’t change that. I know you regret it, but if you need forgiveness, you have it.”
He leans against her heavily, forehead to hers again, and nods. “I do regret it. But I know it had to be done.”
“Exactly. And where will I meet you?”
“I’ll find you, my love. The less you know, the safer you’ll be with Neal. Robin knows the plan, though.” She nods against him now. “You’ll be alright,” he whispers, and she almost wonders who he’s promising.
“I know; I trust you.”
~~~~
A knock sounds against a heavy door. It’s pushed open slowly, and behind it stands a young and conflicted soul, trying to make the best decision for her family. The things she overheard as she stood outside of the women’s restroom serve to threaten the family she has found, and she cannot let that stand.
“Enter,” commands a strong and powerful voice, the man looking up from his ledgers and giving the woman a pensive look. “Elsa, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Peter,” she answers, moving towards the chair across from him. “I’m afraid I have some… troubling news.”
The man hums, leaning forward and pressing his arms to the desk. “And what is that, my dear?”
The woman takes a deep breath, sadly shaking her head at the truth she’s uncovered. She didn’t think her friend Killian capable of such a thing, but discovering that he’s murdered a member of the club has stunned her. “It’s Rufio,” she says wistfully. “I found out who killed him.”
“That’s very interesting indeed,” the man agrees. “Are you implying that it wasn’t a member of the Kings of Elsinore who murdered a member of our family?”
“Yes,” she nods with a deep sigh. “But it pains me to put the truth to words.”
“Elsa,” he starts again, leaning back in his chair authoritatively. “If you know something, you must tell me. How can we protect you if you don’t protect us in return?”
“Of course. After what happened to Liam, of course I want to protect the club.”
The man nods in sad agreement. “Yes, his death was a tragedy, but the club has been keeping you safe ever since.”
“Exactly.”
“Go on, then,” he gestures towards her. “Whatever you’ve discovered, you must remember that the club’s interests as a whole must come above those of one.”
The woman nods once more and takes a deep breath in, feeling the cool air hit her lungs. “It was Killian,” she whispers. “Killian killed Rufio.”
~~~~
~~~~
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#Watch the Sunlight Fade#captain swan fanfic#cs ff#sunlight ff#captain swan au#modern au#captain swan smut#cs smut#captain swan angst#cs angst#captain swan fluff#cs fluff#ouat fanfic#ouat ff#once upon a time#once upon a time fanfic#captain swan
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Shared Minds and Shared Souls (2/?)
Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fighting, mentions of violence
Word Count: ~2.6k
Part Summary: Y/N is starting to get used to her role in the Summers’ house and with the Scoobies in the days following her arrival in Sunnydale. Much to her surprise, she enjoys predictability of her new routine and the normalcy of it. That is until a troublesome figure in Sunnydale makes his acquaintance and knocks Y/N through an unforeseen loop.
Masterlist
Aunt Joyce being surprised to see me is an understatement. It took Buffy and I both pressing her back down on the hospital bed to keep her from leaping up. Then, she thanked me up and down for coming. Which lead to her insisting she’s fine. She’s been covering at the hospital the last few days, but now she’s finally home. Her surgery went well, thank God! With everything going on, Joyce needs to be well. I don’t think Buffy could take another blow and poor Dawnie needs her mom. I know what it’s like to lose a mother, not fun. It’s Buffy and I’s goal to keep life as normal as possible for Dawn. The routine is I drop Dawnie off at school while Buffy plays Slayer. Then, I come back here and take care of Joyce. From there, I pick up Dawnie and prep dinner. In truth, I’m liking the predictable schedule. It’s odd, I thought I’d hate it here. I’ve never been the sort for the mundane lifestyle, but I haven’t been around family in years and it’s nice.
While I prepare lunch for Joyce, I listen to the rock station through the boombox they keep on the counter. The house has been rather quiet since Buffy and the other Scoobies have been out doing researching Glory. Giles’s Magic-Box shop is their headquarters. Well, here and there, sort of double at meeting spots. Whenever the house is this quiet, I have to have music or the tv playing in the background. Otherwise, everything gets all noisy. Sunnydale has so much pent up energy, both good and evil, that it messes with my head. All I hear are the voices in the silence, so many voices that it starts to sound like static. I have mentioned this Buffy, I wouldn’t want to stress her anymore.
My peace is abruptly disturbed as the kitchen door swings open and someone flies in hiding under a blanket. I jump, dropping my knife on Joyce’s sandwich. Smoke radiates from the figure like they’re a walking fire pit. Tilting my head, I watch in awe as a bleached haired man struggles to shut the door, knocking around the blinds. Who the hell is he? He dramatically flails his arms around to get the blanket off with a huff. Instantly, I see the green aura glowing around him. His eyes meet mine with a tilt of the head like a confused puppy dog, granted I did it too.
“Who in the bloody hell are you?” He curses sassily.
His accent is enough information to tell me who he is, Spike. So, this is the pain in the ass, psychotic vampy who is tangled up in a love-hate relationship with my cousin. She’s all caught up on Riley, Mr. G.I. Joe, when she has this dude pining after her? Boy, Buffy needs my guidance in more than one department.
“Good afternoon to you too, Spike,” I greet him by name, much to his surprise.
Cautiously, he moves into the kitchen as I continue about my business. “How do you know my name? Where’s Buffy?” He asks, peaking around the house for her.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him calmly. “Army Barbie is with her team of misfit toys working on Glory stuff.”
Before I have the chance to blink, Spike is across the room has me pinned against the fridge. His face scrunched and his fangs daunting. While gripping my neck until I can hardly breathe, he leans forward and presses his body to mine to keep in place. I struggle in his grip, clawing as his hands. “You’re Glory, aren’t you?! Hm?! Messing with me?! What did you do to Buffy?!” He shouts.
“Spike,” I choke. “You have to-” I gasp for air as he squeezes tighter.
As a psychic, every time I have skin to skin contact with someone I can enter their mind and memories. It’s like watching a montage of someone’s entire existence. The recipient relives the memories too at the same pace as me. This allows them to kick me out if they so wish, all they have to do is realize what’s going on. However, like being in a dream, it’s rare that they do. I have little control when it comes to entering, it’s like falling. If I wish to leave, it takes a kick, like waking up from a dream. I have to be terrified by a memory or experience immense pain, those are the usual triggers.
The moment Spike touched me, he opened the gate for me to see, feel, and hear everything he ever has in the form of visions. I can feel my mind slipping and images begin to flash before my eyes like bursts of light. Then, my vision goes black...
A woman in 19th century clothing stands before with big eyes and brown hair. She’s so beautiful.... Suddenly, a pain pierces my neck.
Next thing I know, I’m sat on an old blood soaked sofa with a dead woman in my lap, bleeding from the neck. I feel hungry for more.
“My wicked, wicked, Willy,” Dru purrs, peering up at me from her position on the floor with longing eyes. I shove the body off of me and crawl to her. God, I love her.
I jump through time, landing in the middle of a fight with a young Chinese woman who I recognize as the Slayer. I manage to grab her and bite her viciously. She mutters something in Chinese to me.
“Sorry Love, I don’t speak Chinese,” I state, tossing her to the side.
Then, on a subway trained with a later slayer. I’m on top of her, gripping her neck as I twist it, killing her. For good measure, I steal her leather coat. I’m quite fond of it.
I hover over the most recent Slayer, and perhaps the most annoying one, Buffy Summers. I raise the plank of wood in my hands to kill her. Suddenly, I’m hit over the head and fall to the floor.
With a jolt, I’m back in the present moment. “Jesus and Mary!” I yelp, the back of my head throbbing. What the hell did Joyce wack me with? Or should I say Spike.
The vampire stands before me wide-eyed, confused by what just happened. Having had enough reminiscing, I press my hands around his that grip my neck and send a powerful shock, causing him to drop me to the floor. I cough as I catch my breath. God, I can see why Buffy doesn’t like him! Spike recovers quickly and picks me up by my hair. I scream at the surge of pain and dig my nails in his hands. Soon, I’m against the wall and I bump my head.
“Where are they?!” He barks in my face. “Tell me or I’ll kill you!”
“If I were Glory and I had taken Buffy, how would killing me help you find her?” I question his logic amongst the fighting. For being over a hundred years old, he’s not exactly wise.
Spike growls, not finding humor in my mockery. I’m not exactly threatened by the big-bad-bleach-crazy ole chap with the winkley-vampy face. I could have him on his undead ass in two seconds if I wanted.
“Spike!” Joyce’s voice interrupts our altercation. Both of us turn our attention to the archway to see my aunt standing there in horror. She wraps her robe around herself tightly. “Let Y/N down! She’s my niece!”
“Oh bollocks!” Spike swears, releasing me instantly.
I fall to the floor on my knees again. Well, this fun- what’s wrong with people in this town?!
“I… uh…” Spike stumbles over his words as he helps me up by the bicep. He brushes down my shirt and hair nervously. “Sorry about that. I thought-”
“You thought I was Glory,” I finish for him, slapping his hands off of me.
“Are you okay, Y/N?!” Joyce checks worriedly, staying cautiously in the archway between here and the living room.
I hum, reaching up and running my fingers through the back of my head for any bumps or bleeding. Whatever she hit Spike with it fucking hurt!
“Did I hurt you?” Spike asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Not really,” I admit quietly and look to my aunt who’s the real reason my head is pounding. “If you ever hearing banging like that, never come downstairs! You hide!” I command of her. “Even if it did sound like I was getting murdered,” I grumble, glaring at Spike.
“Well, as long as you’re alright. I’ll head back up,” she complies quietly. “But only if you’re sure!” She checks.
“I’m fine, really!” I try to ease her nerves. It’s not good for her to worry. I shove Spike out of the way to approach her. “I’ll bring your food up soon. I might have to remake it,” I tell her as I spot her sandwich on the floor behind Spike.
“You don’t have to do that,” she insists.
“It’s okay! If you can wait one moment, I’ll just use some magic,” I announce, holding out my hand toward the counter. I conjure up a turkey sandwich just like I created before. I could’ve whipped one up this way earlier, but I was enjoying the task. “There you go!” I hand the plate over to my aunt.
Spike blinks rapidly, stepping forward to stand beside my aunt. He stares at me in astonishment, “you’re a witch?!”
“No, that shock you felt earlier was all in your head,” I sass, looking at him like an idiot.
“You didn’t tell me there were witches in your family,” he says to Joyce, sounding offended.
“We didn’t know ourselves until Y/N arrived a few days ago. She’s here to help out until I’m all better and… well…” Joyce shifts on her feet uncomfortably. “That Glory girl is gone.”
On that note, Joyce thanks me one last time and heads back upstairs. I relax once I hear her shuffling upstairs in her room. Taking a scan around the kitchen, there are broken plates and food scattered across the floor. I was so far into Spike’s head that I missed the reality and all the ruckus. Of course, I felt his hands around my neck, but my vision was impaired with his memories.
“Let me clean up,” Spike requests, already squatting to pick up the bits of broken porcelain on the tile.
“No need,” I state with a flick of the wrist. Within seconds, all the broken plates and scattered food is gone. The boombox that we’d knocked on the floor and caused to skip is now all fixed neatly on the counter. Soon, Nirvana is coming out of it without a problem.
Spike rises from his position quietly starring at the perfectly spotless kitchen. I move around him toward the living room, already thinking of the next item on my agenda. I still have a few loads of laundry to go through and there’s cleaning that needs to be done. If I set those going with some magic before I head out everything will be done before Buffy’s birthday party tonight. Except, one issue, in this town, I don’t feel comfortable dividing up my power in case of an emergency. I could be attacked on the way to Dawnie’s school with the track record of this town. Plus, I’m Joyce’s sole bodyguard during the day, I need all my energy.
“Hey wait,” Spike calls as he jogs to block my path. He holds up his hands as if that’s going to keeping me from walking away.
With raised brows, I wait for the important reason he must have to be interrupting my to-do list.
Wait... ew, I hate that! I have a to-do list! What am I, a 1950’s housewife?
“Are you honestly Buffy and Dawn’s cousin?” He asks, still not convinced that it’s possible for the Summers’ to have family other than each other.
“No,” I answer calmly, causing him to perk up. “I’m really Dolly Parton in a disguise!” He rolls his eyes, muttering curses under his breath. “You know, the rumor is the blonde hair is a wig,” I ramble to add more spice to the sarcasm. “And she just walks around Tennessee without anyone noticing her!”
“Yep, you’re definitely related,” he determines unenthused, stepping aside.
“I’m glad I’ve convinced you. Now if you don’t mind, I have stuff I need to do!” I step around him to head out and pick up Dawn.
“I’m coming too,” he declares, following on my heels.
I snicker, stopping in my tracks. “You’re coming with me to pick up Dawn from school? In the daylight... ” I add.
“Yeah uh… just meet me at the crypt,” he decides, already heading back to the kitchen.
“Wait, what?” I blurt out as I grab his wrist. “Why would I do that?”
He glances over his shoulder, “I came to show Buffy something, but you’ll do I guess.”
“I’m not Buffy though, I’m no Slayer,” I laugh lightly. “If it’s important I’d show it to her.”
“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” He asks the obvious.
“Well yeah,” I shrug.
“Can you fight?” He continues, clearly leading somewhere.
I stutter, “I mean I know spells and-”
“Then you’ll do,” he declares. “We can tell Buffy about it later,” he adds, walking away.
Buffy is made for this, literally! Unsure of myself, I shake my head. “Spike, I-”
The vampire rolls his head back with a huff of annoyance. “All you God-forsaken women!” He groans under his breath. “I swear, one of these days I’m just going to lose my patience and kill all of you,” he sasses, facing me. “Except Joyce... and maybe Nibblet,” he determines as if that’s generous of him. “But definitely Harmony and that bloody annoying Cordelia if she ever comes back from LA!” He points at me sharply. “And you missy are testing me too!”
Um, excuse him! He didn’t not just say that to me! “Oh buddy, you’re testing me!” I laugh mockingly. Little vampy here has another thing coming if he thinks he can threaten me.
Spike chuckles wickedly and his face changes back to vampy style. He growls to reveal his fangs. I step back cautiously. I didn’t mean for him to take me literally! Abruptly, he comes charging at me. Oh great, not again!
_____________________________________________
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Tags: @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream
#spike#btvs#fanfic#spikexreader#dawn summers#buffy#buffy summers#buffy s5#spike fanfic#spuffy#spike x buffy#spike x reader#btvs imagine#btvs fanfic
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