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#you are not alone in this space and you are a grown woman
cameronspecial · 1 month
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Rafe x reader - camping trip with both families, they are made to share a tent. Maybe she forgets her bedcover and rafe offers his but she doesn’t accept it. She then gets cold and he warms her up.
Flirting, kissing, body warming naked
Stubborn Little Girl
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Sexual Jokes and Being Naked Together In A Non-Sexual Situation
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K
Masterlist
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Everyone knows Y/N is stubborn. She can’t be swayed to change her choices for anything and it drives people crazy, especially because it means she won’t admit when she made a bad call. Her parents tried to warn her that she would need more than what she packed for their camping trip, yet she wouldn’t listen. She already decided what she needed and argued that since she was an adult, she didn’t need her parents' input. This belief doesn’t change even with Rafe’s concern. Rafe and Y/N just finished putting up their tent and she is dragging all their stuff inside of it. He looks through the trees to the other clearing where their parents and siblings are setting up camp. There wasn’t enough space for both of the families to be in the bigger clearing, so they agreed that the oldest siblings would share a tent in the small clearing a few feet away. He watches as she pulls out her blow-up mattress because of course, a Kook will glamp. She pumps her mattress and exits the tent. “Aren’t you going to put any bedding on it?” Rafe questions, pointing to the bare plastic. She shrugs, “Nah. I’ll wear a hoodie to sleep. I should be fine.” “It’s supposed to get colder at night, Kitten. You’ll need actual blankets,” Rafe points out. Y/N rolls her eyes, “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Cameron? And I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” 
She body-checks him as she passes them toward their families. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he yells after her with a shake of his head. Even though they’ve known each other since they were little, Y/N and Rafe have always had a hot and cold relationship. Cordial moments would quickly turn to an argument with the snap of their fingers and vice versa. They may have been closer in age than the other siblings, but Y/N bonded better with his sisters because their gender gave them more in common, while Rafe took her little brother under his wing. It may not have been a great idea to put Rafe and Y/N in the same tent, except it is the only option they had. 
———
After hiking, eating dinner and spending time around the bond fire, everyone returns to their tent. Sleep can’t fall upon Rafe because he can hear the constant rustling coming from Y/N’s mattress. He tilts his head to the side and catches her movement. She keeps switching from side to side, always bringing her legs in toward her chest and her arms wedged between the two. He can see the shivers that wave through her body. Rafe sighs and peels his blanket off of him. He shifts to one side of his mattress. “Come on,” he orders. She looks at him with a crease between her eyebrows, “I’m fine.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kitten. You are freezing,” he asserts, getting up to pull her by his side. She struggles against him, “I said I’m fine, Cameron. I don’t need your help.” She won’t budge; however, Rafe knows how to get her mind to waver. “Stop being a stubborn little girl. If you get sick, then who is going to take care of Steven after school?”
She freezes at the mention of her little brother, processing the truth of Rafe’s words. Although her parents are Kooks who can afford a nanny, ten-year-old Steven is taken care of after school by his big sister. He is extremely introverted and doesn’t like to be left alone with strangers, so Y/N takes care of him whenever she can. Rafe has seen her loyalty to her family and figures it would be the only thing to get her to change her mind. It does. She stops resisting his hold and rests her body against his. Her front accidentally presses against his front and she feels the stiff member in his pants. She giggles, “Are you sure the only reason why you wanted me in your bed is because I was cold?” His face reddens and he pulls her hips away. “Shut up,” he groans. Eventually, he begins to chuckle with her. The laughter dies down, but her shaking doesn’t stop and this worries Rafe. “I think we both need to strip naked,” he suggests, already preparing to take off his shirt. This causes her to completely detach from him, “Woah, slow down, Cameron. Just because you are nice to me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you, especially with our families so close by.” He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. You are shaking like an earthquake and we needed to get you warmed up,” he explains. 
“And how is getting naked going to help me with that?”
“Because my body heat will help warm up yours. I promise this isn’t for any funny business. I just don’t want you to get a cold.”
“You really think this is going to work?”
“I promise.”
She doesn’t voice her agreement and instead, begins to remove her clothes herself. Rafe follows her movement until they are completely nude. They avoid the temptation of looking at their private areas by looking at each other in their eyes. The silence is broken up with laughter. “This is definitely not awkward,” she jokes, placing her hand above her elbow. He places his hand on top of hers, “It doesn’t have to be.” She tilts her head to the side as he brings his face closer to hers. His lips pucker and he gives her enough time to pull away before their lips touch. She closes the distance, lacing her fingers through his hair to bring him closer. His hands fall on her hip to tug her closer to him. They break the kiss for air and place their foreheads against each other’s. “Thank god you are such a stubborn little girl,” he whispers. Kisses and giggles fill the tent until both of them fall asleep from exhaustion and newfound warmth. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
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The Royal Consort. Part 3
"Mr. Fenton! Will you be attending the Wayne Charity Gala with your husband?" A reporter demands, thrusting her mic into Danny's face.
"I-" He tries to say, but another reporter jumps in.
"Is it true Bruce Wayne is attempting to have his kids seduce your husband?"
"What?"
"Mr. Fenton, is it true that you could stop a war simply by batting your eyelashes?!"
"Hey, now that's uncalled for."
"What is the political climate in the wake of the disbanded Anti-Ecto Acts?"
Danny couldn't even tell where the questions were coming from. He tried to push through the crowd of new crews, but every step of the way, more and more people crowded him.
He should've stayed in the hotel room Mr. Wayne had rented for his family, but Danny had thought he could sneak out and explore Gotham.
After Dani had burst into the meeting room, in all her ghostly glory, the Justice League had allowed them a short recess so his parents could meet their "granddaughter."
He is still determining exactly what she told them, as he is too busy to dodge more of Batman's questions. He just hoped she could keep the ruse up in the face of his parents' smothering apologies.
His dad wrapped her up I'm his arms, sobbing the whole time while his mother was snapping pictures of Dani, crying about how much she had grown.
Thank the stars Jazz had pulled her "niece" to the side for a short conversation. When they came back, Dani had taken the princess role so well that she answered most of the Ghost Zone questions like the ambassador she was pretending to be.
Her age? Yeah, that was off cause the time zone difference in the Ghost Zone. She was only four years in human years but looked sixteen due to her half-blood and where she grew up.
The chances of war? No, her dad had appeased the war council after the United Nations called the USA on their bullshit.
Demands Phantom had? Respect the dead. Honor the rights of his people. Leave the natural portals alone, and if his subjects were causing issues call one of his to take care of it.
Did she not need an anchor? She's half-human, so she could pop between worlds at will, but only because the Ghost King allowed it.
Where had she been before Phantom took the throne? Danny was not in a stage of life to raise a child- he had only been fifteen!- so Phantom raised her in his lair. Yes, she came to visit Danny.
Did she practically say she was a child of separated parents? Yes. Did she regret it? Only when rumors about Phantom wanting to replace Danny sprung, and she had people trying to get her to introduce them to his "father."
How strong was she? Step into the ring, Wonder Woman; let's test it. (They did spar, and surprisingly, she gave Wonder Woman a run for her money, but in the end, the more experienced fighter won. The Amazonian offered to train her)
By the end of it, Danny and Dani left with stacks of possible legislation about peace among their people. They both promised to get it to Phantom.
Just as they left, Batman informed them that Bruce Wayne had invited them to the Gala. He also offered them asylum in Gotham by housing them in his family manor until the media died.
Danny had almost accepted, but Jazz had stepped in with sharp eyes and a cold smile. "Please tell Mr. Wayne we are honored by the offer, but we would prefer our own space."
Batman grunted. "Would a penthouse be predered?"
"Yes, thank you."
He loved Jazz.
His mom had whispered in Danny's ear as they were teleporting- the Justice League had teleporting technology!?- back to Earth. "Do you think the rumors about Bruce Wayne being Batman's lover are true?"
Danny had yet to pay much mind to Wes Weston's theories, but honestly, the way Batman was able just to promise things on Mr. Wayne's behalf.....well, if the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady could happen, why not a billionaire and a crime-fighting
Danny, Jazz, and Dani had been hiding in the pen house for about three days. His parents had returned home to secure their lab after the fifth time curious meddlesome reporters had tripped their house security.
Danny will admit he went stir-crazy, so using his powers, he turned invisible and went out when his sisters had been watching a show. He had made it for about five hours when someone saw him buying a coffee and tweeted his location.
His sightseeing had been cut short by the crowds of people that swarmed him.
"Mr. Fenton, what do you say about parents criticizing how early you married?"
Danny was pushed up against the wall by the crowd, wishing he could just turn ghost and drop this whole thing. He felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes, and for one horrifying moment, he thought they were going to record him bursting into tears when a man broke through the crowd.
"That is far enough!" The man placed himself in front of Danny, shielding the eighteen-year-old. His British accent made the sharpness of his words even more scorching. "You all know that a press conference will be in a few days and that surrounding a royal could be an act of war! Get back!"
Danny had a moment of relief until someone snatched his arm. He flinches away, going for a punch, but it gets caught by the person tugging him through the crowd.
Danny could only blink at the smiling face of Dick Grayson until the man helped him into a car. The British man quickly came back, jumping into the driver's seat and speeding off as the crowd of reporters tried to get one last photo.
Danny's breaths were coming in short, fast puffs. He wasn't very sure what was going on. He couldn't think. There were so many flashes. So many voices. So many people-!.
A hand pushed his head between his knees, rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're okay. "
Danny gasped, tears finally falling as he tried to explain why he had done something stupid. "I-i just wanted to see- the landmarks- I didn't mean- I- I."
"Shhh. I know. It's okay. You're okay."
After a while, Danny was able to sit up. His saviors had asked him to name five things he saw, four things he could hear, three things he could listen to, and one thing he could taste to calm down, but it worked. Only then did he realize there were more people in the fancy car with them.
A boy his age sat on his right, having been the one to push his head down. It took only a second to recognize him: Tim Drake, teenage CEO and one of the most attractive men he had ever seen.
A blond teenage girl who also seemed their age sat in the passenger seat, though she twisted around to give him a warm smile. She was also very gorgeous.
Not to mention Dick Grayson, who had a warm hand on his back. Adonis must have returned as the first adopted son of Bruce Wayne because, goddam, that man was fine.
Even the British man was handsome for someone his grandfather's age.
Had he died (again) and gone to heaven?
"Here," Drake placed a cold water bottle in his palm, offering the gobsmacked Danny a small smile. "Drink. It'll help."
"Ugh...I.. thank you for rescuing me," He managed to gasp out.
"Don't mention it. We all know the hell of the paparazzi. Glad you alright. " the girl said. "I'm Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. The guy to your right is Tim Drake, the one on your left is Dick Grayson, and this fine man driving us is Alfred Pennyworth."
"I'm Danny Fenton." He says, taking a swing. The cold water went down his throat and grounded him.
"We know. You've made quite the wave with your marriage." Grayson said though not unkindly. "We'll have to take you to our manor to switch cars; otherwise, they'll just wait for us at the hotel."
Danny thought it over before whispering, "Can I message my sister? She must be worried-"
A portal rips open in front of him. The other humans all let out cries of alarm but not as loudly as Danny when Phantom's head pokes out of it.
He has a moment to wonder how in the world that was possible until the ghost waves at him using one of Clockwork's necklaces. Oh, it's him from the future. Okay. That's happening.
"Darling! I felt you in distress! What happened?! Shall I punish everyone in Gotham? " Phantom questions in a tone Danny had never been aware he could make. It's smooth. It's all-knowing. It's seductive.
What the fuck is going on?
"There is no need for any form of punishment. Not to worry, your highness." Drake quickly jumps in. "We would never allow anything to happen to your husband. I will personally keep Mr. Fenton away from any danger. "
Danny watched in slight horror as his future ghost self gave the other man a long look before smirking. "I appreciate the offer, and you are certainly my type with that black hair and blue eyes, but I am fine with only one husband. Danny will decide to add you to the marriage if he would like to have more partners."
Drake blinks wide started eyes. "I- I beg your pardon?"
"I have a protection and ice core. Proclaiming to keep my romantic partner safe is the same as asking for my hand in marriage due to the customs of protective spirits. Were you not aware?"
"I wasn't!" Danny interrupts loudly. " I was very unaware that meant marriage proposals!"
Phantom gives him a cheeky smile, and suddenly Danny understands why all his Rouges had wanted to beat his face so often. He can be rather annoying.
"No one will be above you, darling. You are the embodiment of beauty, and I would never desire another. However, the royal family is allowed concubines. You may take human ones if you wish to. I wouldn't want to ruin any of your fun."
"Who told you to say this!?" Danny demands, forgetting himself for a moment. Or the watchful eyes of the Waynes swinging between them with prompt attention.
"Why just the royal advisor!" Phantom laughs, his white hair bouncing as he tilts his head.
Jazz. She was responsible for this. How could he have thought she was sane?
"I don't want a concubine!" Danny yells, face burning. He's never been more mortified in his life, including walking down. For breakfast in Superman boxers, only to find Superman at the bottom of the stairs.
What a terrible day that was to run out of clean pants.
Phantom smiles. "I love you too, darling. I shall see you soon. I do not wish to strain your body anymore."
He thrusts his head back into the glowing green portal, and with a soft pop, he's gone. The car is utterly silent until Grayson whispers.
"Does this mean Tim just got married through fae laws?"
Danny whips his head at him. "No! It does not!"
Drake lets out a small breath of relief. "Oh, thank God. Not that you aren't hot, Mr. Fenton, but I'm not ready for marriage."
Danny wonders if he can reach the door handle to throw himself out of a speeding car. He knows somewhere in the future. He is laughing his ass off at current him.
"Dude, none taken. Could you clarify how I ended up here? I just wanted to jump across Gotham roofs, and suddenly, I can marriage trap people."
Danny wishes he could kick his own ass- not counting Dan- as Steph breaks into uncontrolled laughter.
"Oh, Danny, you're going to fit in well!" She says between wheezing.
Grayson raises his hand, face glued to his phone. "Bruce just sent in the family group chat that none of us are allowed near Phantom."
"Why?" Danny asks.
Grayson shrugs. "We're all his type, and Bruce's heart can't handle that."
"Fair enough"
(Part 1) (Part 2)
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pierregazly · 7 months
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let's face it together ꨄ carlos sainz
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carlos sainz x wife!reader
warnings: nightmares, mentions of anxiety, mentions of infidelity (in a nightmare) [wc: 2.3k words]
in which carlos' wife has been dealing with an onslaught of nightmares because of the heinous things people have been saying about her, and their relationship, online. carlos finds out, and does the only thing he can think of, he comforts her and professes his undying love.
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The nightmares had been reoccurring for months. Waking up with beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, your heart racing, your mind trying to place exactly where you were in the very moment you woke up; it had been an unfortunately common event for quite some time now.
It was all something you had grown accustomed to. Getting used to waking up because of them was the easiest part, trying to force yourself to forget about the nightmares and the implicit meanings behind them? Well, that was far more difficult and was the part you were struggling to grasp the most.
They were always the most vivid after a night of scrolling through endless unkind messages and comments. Strangers, people you had never met, people your husband had never even met; all saying heinous things about you, to you, because of you. About your looks, about your career choices, about how Carlos could do better than you, about how he probably already has and knows how to hide it.
Deep down, you knew there was nothing to truly worry about when it came to Carlos and his dedication to your marriage, but once the overthinking set it… it was tough to push it back.
The nightmares, the overthinking, and the anxiety that accompanied the overthinking weren’t things you had ever expressed to Carlos. To your knowledge, he had no previous awareness about them at all. He, of course, knew about the heinous things people wrote online, often telling you to disregard the unkind things they were saying and that usually ended up with him repeating sweet nothings to you in his native tongue to emphasize how untrue the words were. That didn’t stop the nightmares, nor the anxiety that caused them.
It was obvious when they were at their worst as well. Your body craved the warm comfort of your husband’s arms only to roll into a cold, empty space, your husband in a whole different country so his spot on the bed remained evidently, empty. It was as if your mind was taunting you, reminding you that you were physically alone when you needed him the most.
Eventually, you knew not telling Carlos about the sleepless nights would come back to haunt you. What you weren’t expecting was how distraught it would make him that he wasn’t aware.
Carlos had called you earlier in the evening to make sure you were aware when his flight would get in, and that he didn’t need you to pick him up as he had left his car at the airport. After telling him you’d wait up for him, he immediately discouraged that, attempting to convince you that he didn’t want you waiting up all night for him, and that he’d much rather crawl into bed with you when he got home and cuddle up.
Ignoring his words, you stayed up as long as you could. Passing the time with whatever you could find, a book, a drawing, your phone, eventually you felt the pull to your eyelids. You convinced yourself you would just close them for a moment, that you could rest them for just a few seconds and then you’d be able to go back to distracting yourself with whatever you could find to keep yourself awake.
The dream started as it always did. It was as if you were invisible, an outside force looking in on an intimate moment. It was always Carlos in the dream, and another woman, she never had a recognizable face, no one that you ever knew. He would be whispering sweet nothings into her ear, just as he always did to you, her face pressed into his shoulder as she giggled.
“Carlos, my love, when are you going to leave her? You’ve told me so many times it’ll be soon, please my love. I just want to be together, truly together.”
He would always sigh and press a kiss to the crown of her head before she continued.
“She’s not good enough for you, you know that. I’ve always been what you wanted, what you needed. She’s nothing, please my love, let us be together.”
Carlos would always pull her in a little tighter after that, looking in the direction where you stood in the dream, looking right through you.
“Don’t worry, mi corazón. She means nothing to me anymore, but she is so sensitive, I cannot just divorce her. I have to make her fall out of love with me first, I cannot handle her reaction if I do not. You know I don’t love her anymore, not like I love you, amor.”
That’s usually when the tears began streaking down your cheeks as you silently begged Carlos to take the words back, the words you tried to speak aloud coming out empty, further proving that you were simply invisible in the dream.
The nightmare would often continue from there, both Carlos and the unknown female drafting short insults, unkind words, and even worst statements about you as you were forced to watch upon them silently.
What you weren’t expecting was the gentle nudge to your shoulder, followed by a firmer shake, then your name being whispered softly.
“Mi amor, wake up. Mi amor, wake up, por favor,” you felt another gentle shake to your shoulders, your eyes beginning to open as they slowly adjusted to the soft light streaming into the bedroom.
Having never been woken up in the middle of the nightmare, it took you a moment to place your surroundings. Your book was still placed gently on the pillow next to your head, your phone face down on the spot Carlos usually laid, your mug, half-full of the chamomile tea you had started before drifting off was on the table next to your side of the bed. Carlos was directly in front of you, his brown eyes looking down at you with a soft look of concern present in them.
Carlos was directly in front of you.
A small bead of sweat trickled down the side of your forehead, your lash line wet with the unshed tears that your body had not had the chance to expel. You could feel the racing of your heart, the panic from the dream having started to set in before he had shaken you awake.
“Are you okay? You were whimpering and twisted up in the sheets, mi corazón. I could hear you the moment I stepped into the room.”
Shaking your head, your hands balled into fists as you moved them to gently rub at your now wet eyes. You had hoped there would be more time before Carlos was present for one of the reoccurring nightmares, had hoped you could work through what was causing them on your own before he noticed.
“Just a nightmare, my love. Nothing for you to worry about,” you continued to rub at your eyes as Carlos gently ran his hands down your exposed arms, his eyes still brimming with concern.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The Spaniard questioned, his body gently falling onto the bed beside you, careful to not crush the book that still laid on his pillow.
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned your head so that it was pressed into his chest, his arms instantly wrapping around your body to pull it closer into his own. Similar to the position he held the unknown woman that constantly haunted your dreams.
The soft sob escaped your throat before you could contain it, your hands that were still balled into fists pressing gently into your lips as you tried to keep the sounds at bay. Carlos instantly pulled back, concern and confusion even more prevalent in his warm brown eyes than they were before.
“Please tell me what’s going on, mi corazón.” His voice was filled with defeat, his free hand gently trailing his fingers down your face as he attempted to peer into your eyes.
You didn’t know how to tell him exactly what you were feeling, how you had been struggling almost every night he was gone, having to deal with these constant nightmares. How the anxiety was continuing to get worse and worse, which was causing the nightmares to become more vivid, more aggressive.
Carlos began gently running his hand up and down your arm again, trying to coax words out of you with his gentle demeanor. You knew you were safe with him; you knew he wouldn’t judge you for the anxiety, but you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him.
Eventually, the words began to spill from your lips. You explained the nightmare in detail, from start to finish, how it had been happening for months now, every time he was away it got worse and worse. The Spaniard’s face dropped, sadness embedding itself in his eyes as you continued to speak, his arms pulling you as close as they could the more and more you told him of what you had been suffering through.
By the time you were finished, Carlos’ face was marred with a large frown, his eyes looking down at you softly as he traced gentle circles on your exposed skin.
“Mi amor, I wish you had told me about this. It hurts me to know you’ve been suffering through this alone,” another soft sob fell from your lips, rubbing at your eyes as you looked up at him sadly.
“I’m sorry, Carlos. I just… I didn’t want you to think poorly of me, or think I didn’t trust you, or… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Moving his body down so he could spoon you from behind, Carlos peppered a few gentle kisses against the back of your neck and shoulder as you spoke. “I could never think poorly of you, mi corazón, nor would I have thought you didn’t trust me. I just wish you had told me so we could have faced this together.”
The sincerity was obvious in his words, he was trying to emphasize exactly what you had been telling yourself since the nightmares started. You had been telling yourself for months that he would never think badly of you if you expressed what you had been dealing with, that he would drop everything and anything to help you through your inner turmoil.
Carlos was constantly professing how much you meant to him, and how he never wanted you to go through things alone, and that he would far rather suffer with you, than either of you suffer alone. It was something that he, himself, had been working on. Expressing when he was going through something internally, because of a bad race, or because of something Carlos Sainz Sr. had said. Both of you had spent years internalizing everything, refusing to ask for help from those around you.
“Mi amor, you are more than enough for me. I am such a lucky man to be able to come home to you after every race, to be able to have you waiting in the garage for me when you travel the world with me. There is truly no one else that I could ever want, if anything, I am not enough for you. Strangers online don’t know anything about what you have done for me, what you have sacrificed for me, as my wife.”
Whirling around to glare at him, your eyes caught on his own sad ones, softening yours instantly. Carlos had told you more than once that he felt guilty you had to cater to his schedule more than he could ever cater to yours. You had stressed to him that you would follow him to the end of the world, just as you had told him in your wedding vows months before that conversation.
“Marriage comes with sacrifice, my love. If we had to start all over, I would still do everything again. I’m just scared that one day maybe I won’t be enough for you, that you’ll decide someone else is prettier, or more suited for your lifestyle.”
A loud scoff fell from his lips, “No one could be more beautiful than you, or more perfectly suited for me, mi amor. I vowed that I would love you til’ the day I die, for richer or poorer, for better or worse. Nothing will ever change that.”
Turning your body completely so you could fit your head into the juncture of Carlos neck, you wrapped your own arms around him as you breathed in the smell of his cologne. You felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head as he threw one of his legs over your own.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through these things alone, cariño. You have been so anxious, and I have been a horrible husband for not noticing, I hope you will let me make it up to you.”
His hands were drawing different shapes down your back, as he began to murmur sweet nothings into the crown of your head. The words were illegible, a combination of Spanish and English, apologies and professions of love, promises that he would be there for you whenever you needed him, that even if you called him in the middle of the night before a race, he would still do everything he could to help you through whatever it was you were going through.
“My love, you are a wonderful husband, a wonderful partner, an even more amazing support system. The comments online just get to me, especially when you’re not here, it’s harder to believe that what they’re saying isn’t true.” Gently murmuring the words so that he could hear them, all Carlos did was sigh before continuing with his declarations of love, attempting to do anything he could to comfort you.
You knew it was unlikely the nightmares would discontinue just like that, but it eased a portion of your anxiety to know that Carlos was now aware of them, that he truly didn’t judge you for the things you had been going through. A feeling of contentment washed through you, knowing that even if they did continue, they weren’t something you had to face alone, but something you could face together.  
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ahhh im not too sure how i feel about this one, so please let me know what you think! thank you to the lovely person who requested it, i hope it's everything you wanted!! there will be a smau part 2 to this one, which will encompass a second request that was very similar but i didn't know how to incorporate it in. i hope you all enjoy!!! 🫶🏻
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if your name is struck through/bolded it wouldn’t let me tag you. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist (preferably send me an ask, it's hard to keep track other ways)
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waataah · 27 days
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Jealous/Possesive Sanji plagues my mind<3
✧ sanji vinsmoke x fem!reader ✧
。・゚゚・ (nsfw, fem!reader, 18+ only, mdni, 3rd pov) ・゚゚・。
content/cw: NSFW, heavy-petting, light-petting, kissing, praise, worship, jealousy, rough play, first-time and sexual themes.
summary: Sanji is quite the gentleman when he needs to be, especially around y/n. But once he sees you having a drink with Zoro can he contain the jealousy within him? Or will the gentleman's act come to an end?
word count: ~2041 words
・❥・Your body is all mine.
“So you and the chef have been dating for a while huh? Never thought that idiot would be able to maintain a relationship with anyone let alone a woman” the green-haired swordsman scoffed.
“Yeah I never thought I would date that perv either… but he grew on me what can I say?” she laughed in response to the other's words.
The two raised a toast and drank their problems away, because even in a perfectly healthy relationship, who doesn't have their own issues? The two gulp down their booze and laugh a bit over the pervy cook.
“You know Zoro I can tell he’s grown on you too y’know? You act like you hate him but everyone knows you're both friends” she laughs. 
“Shut up! Who would be friends with a loser like that idiot?” the green-haired man scoffed.
Y/n didn’t exactly enjoy her boyfriend being talked about like that by her friend but she usually overlooked it since she knew Zoro was typically like that.
While the two continued to chat and drink at the kitchen table, Sanji stood at the door that was slightly ajar. He lit his cigarette and listened to each word his girlfriend and the moss head would say. He felt a pang in his chest and knew he was jealous of the two of them laughing and having a drink with one another. He understood that y/n was his girlfriend but just the sight of his lover and the person he gets along with the least having a laugh still made his blood boil. 
After he heard y/n get up she said, “Well I have to get back for night watch, so same time tomorrow swordsman?”. Sanji quickly left upon hearing those words.
Zoro lifted his glass towards the girl and continued to drink the night away scoffing at the nickname you and the chef loved to call him. However, he did appreciate you occasionally taking over the night watch duty since he's the one who does it often. 
Y/n usually didn’t mind taking up night duty, the Thousand Sunny’s lookout tower was very secluded perfect for when she wanted alone time since she always shared a room with Robin and Nami. The look tower was a perfect place to have silence. But not tonight. 
Once in the tower, the hatch and ladder were closed and locked behind y/n with a cross-armed Sanji standing between her and the entrance.
“Hello, my dear~”.
“Sanji? What are you doing up weren't you asleep?” y/n was a bit shocked by the blonde waiting in the tower.
Sanji paced around the room and looked at all the workout equipment that Zoro had thrown about. He looked upset but y/n really didn’t understand why.
“Well I wanted to get a cup of tea and bring it over to my sweet y/n before heading to bed but it seemed the kitchen was occupied” he looked over with a strained smile. He took a drag from his cigarette and put it out, tossing it to the side not caring where it landed since it was “zoro’s space” after all.
It finally clicked with y/n, Sanji's tone of voice, and him seeing her with Zoro. He was jealous, though she doubted he would admit it. Y/n decided to stand still and wait for her lover to calm himself down. Eventually, he sighed and threw himself back onto the seats that lined the wall of the tower and gritted his teeth together.
“So… would you rather date that swordsman than a perv like me? You even take up guard duty for him every once in awhile…” he said with his head hanging low, he was pretty upset over the conversation he had heard. Sanji could feel his heart squish with pain, he hated being jealous. But he knew that just meant he did love y/n.
Y/n sighed and walked over to her lover, she tilted his chin up and gently placed a kiss on the blonde's lips. Sanji’s body shivered in response, his hand quickly making its way over to y/n’s waist and gripping onto it not wanting to ever let her go. 
“I think I like my pervy cook much more than anybody else” she giggled softly against his lips.
Sanji looked at her and pulled her by the waist to sit on his lap, y/n happily obliged. 
“Why do you take his guard duties?”.
“So I could have some alone time and let the poor guy rest”.
“Why do you drink with him every night?”.
“He’s the only other MAN who would give me slightly more serious life advice than any of the other guys here” y/n sighed. 
“Sure I could ask Robin and Nami but they tease me much more than Zoro, he usually only makes fun of you rather than my problems” y/n laughed.
Sanji let out a small sigh of relief and rubbed y/n’s hips gently with his thumb, it gently making it’s way into her shirt to touch her skin.
“And you swear you prefer me over that moss head?”.
“Whose lap am I sitting on right now?”.
Sanji felt a switch inside of him, the two of you were alone. Everyone was asleep, Zoro probably fell asleep the moment y/n walked out of the kitchen. The two of them hardly ever got alone time, the ship was always busy. Whenever the two of them were alone to share an intimate moment it would always be ruined by Luffy, Franky, and Ussop. But this time it was different, the lights were off and everything was quiet. Just y/n and Sanji’s breath silently echoing throughout the small room.
More of Sanji’s fingers slid up y/n’s shirt earning a small gasp from the woman, Sanji’s eyes never leaving hers. “May I my dear?”.
His words were slightly desperate but calmer, this would be the first time the two could share this type of moment so y/n quickly nodded a ‘yes’ in response. Sanji swiftly pulled his hands up to remove her bra only to find she was not wearing one. 
He halted in his tracks and looked up at y/n, “You were with Zoro… braless…?”.
Y/n laughed nervously and looked anywhere but at the chef, “H-he wasn’t looking… if a-anything he's not interested in-”.
Her little excuse was quickly halted by the blonde as he swiftly took off her top and used his tie to wrap her hands together with no easy way to make them come undone. Sanji’s jealous pangs riled up inside him more causing him to lose all sense of treating their first time sweet and perfect. He had always had an image in his mind of his first time with y/n. Candles, flowers a nice comfy bed and take her sweetly, passionately, and gently. But right now he wasn’t thinking straight. He would take her here in Zoro's gross sweaty gym watch tower and he didn’t mind treating her a bit rough.
It’s not as though he had never seen y/n naked before, some times before breakfast there were times to have some quickies, so he had definitely memorized y/n’s perfect delectable body. Sanji took one of her soft breasts and cupped it in his palm, the other hand keeping a firm grip on the tie restraining her arms.
Sanji let out a small laugh and pulled her by the arms closer to his body, “I would love to praise and cherish your body princess…but knowing that another man could have easily done this to you makes me a bit…upset”.
“So I might just have to leave proof that your body is all mine”.
Y/n was a bit shocked at this new Sanji, she knew that he would get jealous from time to time and start yelling at any other man who laid eyes on her, but this was different.
It was actually kind of hot. 
Y/n blushed at his words but didn’t dare to retaliate, “Go ahead… I won’t stop you”.
This sent Sanji soaring, he let go of Y/n’s tied arms and left gentle kisses against her exposed chest and left his mark all over, easily visible marks that wouldn’t leave much room to wonder. His hands explored her body and gently grasped onto her breast. His head leaned forward and he swirled his tongue around her hard nipples, taking in her sweet flavor. Causing her to moan sweet melodies to his ears.
“Fuck… y/n you are intoxicating my love” he mumbled against her breast.
Her face turned a light shade of red before muttering some words that he wouldn’t even hear. Sanji just made muffled sounds before setting her down on the seat and quickly tugging off her shorts and panties to the side, tossing them somewhere in the room. He left trails of kisses down her thighs and left more marks scattered towards her heat. Once he reached the top he eagerly started to eat at her wetness as she held back her moans of pleasure. He let his free hand wander back up to her breasts and fondled them while pinching her nipples. The muffled screams and moans held back by her lips were only making his cock twitch with anticipation.
“I need you, my love…” it sounded like a statement but he looked up at y/n as if he was asking for permission. She giggled and nodded to him.
After licking up all the juices he could, savoring every last drop he began to tug at his belt and pant button as he finished up his tongue's work. He let a few moments pass before finally setting his pants off to the side and stroking himself while prying away from y/n’s slick wetness. He pumped himself a few times before looking at her once again, but the thoughts of jealousy once again plagued his mind. He without warning thrust into her entrance causing her to gasp out from his length.
She always knew that Sanji was rather large, though it didn’t hit her till he filled up her insides entirely. 
“S-Shit S-Sanji” she muttered out between her moans which she couldn't keep back anymore. Each thrust was harder than the last, Sanji had previously teased her with his long slender fingers telling her she would have to ease into his size one day, but he was relentless. Sanji let out low guttural groans, though he wanted to take his time and admire y/n’s beautiful body, he wanted to make sure no one else could even think of touching his woman. He had to make her his.
Sanji could feel his high ready to come, he gripped onto y/n’s hips with one hand and untied the tie from around her wrist. Y/n felt herself clench tightly around his length and once let free she wrapped her arms around Sanji’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. The two moaned into each other's mouths, making the kiss sloppy but passionate. Sanji came first, his release was hard and went deep inside y/n’s body, he then pressed his fingers against y/n’s clit rubbing it in circles while she screamed his name. 
“S-Sanji! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum”.
“Do it, my gorgeous girl… cum on my cock”.
His words tipped her over the edge, she squeezed around him once more and felt her body pulsate and shiver from the pleasures. Y/n panted hardly able to catch her own breath. Sanji sighed in contentment, looking down at the mess he made of y/n. He pulled out of her and watched as his cum dripped from her hole with a sly smile on his face. Hickeys and sweat littered her body, and Sanji admired his work. He gently pulled her back over to him and took off his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders. The two of them cuddled up, y/n looked down at herself embarrassed, and covered her body with his jacket. 
"There's no way I can hide all of this with my clothes...".
“Now I can say you are officially mine~”.
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seresinhangmanjake · 21 days
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
Summary: You and Simon had been keeping your relationship a secret from your brother. You were happy, in love, but that all ended the moment Johnny found Simon in your bed.
Notes/warnings: Part 1 of 2. Mention of sexual acts. Angst. Fluff and smut in next part. Typos, I'm sure.
Words: 709
Part 2
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You were Johnny’s sister. That alone should have been enough to ensure Simon kept his distance. And that was the plan, as staying away from you would've been the right thing to do; the respectful choice to make concerning the sister of his friend. But once he saw you, all of those thoughts vanished. 
You’d greeted him and Johnny at the door of the Mactavish home with a huge smile spread across your face, illuminating the shade of your eyes, and that was it. Simon was a goner. And to think just seconds prior, he hadn't wanted to come to the annual Mactavish family gathering. 
When offered Johnny’s invitation, Simon had turned him down. He didn’t do parties. He didn’t do loud chattering or large groups—around fifty bodies, Johnny had told him—and he didn’t appreciate hoards of questions hurtling his way. It took a half-hour of borderline begging from Johnny before Simon agreed, simply to get his friend to shut up. 
The drive over was agonizing with Johnny practically bouncing from the excitement of seeing his family all in one place for the first time in years, as Simon sat in the passenger seat with his arms crossed over his chest, anticipating the worst. But then there you were. So beautiful that he forgot his hatred for organized events with people he didn’t know. So gorgeous, and he quickly discovered not lacking in wit and intelligence. While Johnny mingled, you had Simon’s attention in a chokehold—an arousing pressure tight round his neck he never wanted relief from.
He had met pretty women before; funny and smart women, but not like you. Nothing like you. However, it would've been better had you revealed yourself to be dull. If you were dull he could've walked away. He could've avoided the guilt that sunk in when he noticed how Johnny didn't bother to pay attention to the dwindling space between your body and Simon's as the night progressed. Johnny didn't bother because he trusted his friend to do the right thing, as he would trust any teammate that he shared a brotherly bond with.
But Simon was not Johnny's brother. He was not your brother. He was your admirer, your pursuer, and eventually, your lover, just as you became his. A lover that ignited a fire in his belly he’d only ever heard about from Price and Gaz when speaking about their women. He never wanted to let you go. But that bliss ended the moment Johnny found him bare in your bed while you were rinsing off his cum in the shower. 
As he shot up in bed, Simon had two thoughts: how did he not sense someone coming into your apartment, and how did he not hear the knock at your bedroom door that, after going unanswered, prompted Johnny to enter out of concern. But there was a simple explanation. Simon was too sated, too drugged out on you, too exhausted and half asleep after a long morning of sex to register any sound other than your soft humming from the en suite.
Johnny’s face had descended into pure anger—nothing like Simon had ever seen—and he knew there were no excuses to give. Not for the scene, the circumstances, or the lies told in the hope Johnny would never know about the time you spent together behind his back. There were no words as the best thing in Simon's life shattered to bits.
He’d lost his best mate that day, and because of the fit Johnny threw at learning Simon had been sleeping with you for months, he’d lost you as well. He had tried his damnedest to keep you—Love, you’re a grown woman; you can make your own choices; he’ll come around—but all you did was shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto the floor as you reminded him that hurting Johnny was one of the deal-breakers. 
He’d left your apartment with his fingers fisted in his hair, knowing that was the last time he was going to see you. And that had proved true over the following three months. He’d not heard from you. No calls, no texts, no bloody emails. You were done, gone, and Simon was stumbling through a world without you.
A/N: Fluff and smut next part. Thanks for reading 🥰
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daportalpractitioner · 4 months
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mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part two — libra thru pisces
if you're looking for part one (aries-virgo), then click here
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libra moon: if your mom has a libra moon, she could have been more preoccupied with her relationship with your father rather than putting herself in a position to be focused on her pregnancy + preparing a balanced environment for you. libra moon mamas often go through it with the father of the baby if they prematurely decide to have kids outside of wedlock (we don't judge over here). your mom could have been more focused on the aesthetics of motherhood + also on you being able to have both parents under one roof to be able to fit her ideal family picture. this mentality could have led her to distract herself from the bigger picture which is making sure that she is in a healthy, fulfilling relationship with your father. i wouldn't be surprised if you knew more than you should have when it comes to your parents' relationship as a child. with libra being the sign of relationships, the relationship patterns that your mother exhibited when pregnant with you could have been something that you picked up on, whether it be healthy or unhealthy. beware of issues with co-dependency + people pleasing passed down from your mom as those are big themes that must be overcome in the life of a libra moon mama. libra moon mamas hold a lot of resentment due to being so passive about people overstepping their boundaries + could project that pain onto you if it remains undealt with. as her child, she may be triggered by her relationship with you because she sees you as her mirror. encourage her to have strong boundaries. it's okay for her to say no and she won't be hated for it. respect her decisions. be sure not to be the child that coddles her emotions at the end of the day because she is a grown ass woman, but you should affirm her that it is okay to self-validate without trying to over-rationalize however she feels so that she can move through her emotions + not be avoidant.
scorpio moon: the moon is in a debilitating position (fall) when in scorpio, therefore, it isn't uncommon for women to have a painful pregnancy due to all of the trauma being stored in the womb. your scorpio moon mama may have lived in a state of fear or distrust during her pregnancy + i wouldn't be surprised if she felt alone due to not trusting people. this lack of nurture within the womb was definitely passed down to you if she didn't take accountability to heal from the pain that she experienced. scorpio moon mama would kill to make sure that all your needs are met, but when it comes to handling intense emotions, she may have not known how to navigate those with you (similar to capricorn moon mothers). scorpio moons experience a wounded relationship with their own mother + now that it's their turn to be a mom, they want to be better for their children. motherhood is definitely something that transformed them for the better + they really have the make a conscious effort to not display the same patterns that hurt their inner child. be patient with her + even though you are not responsible for her emotions + how she handles them, provide a safe space for her so that she knows that she is not alone. having emotional boundaries with your mother is also important — not having those boundaries with her can manifest into perpetuating a preoccupied/anxious attachment within yourself.
sagittarius moon: sagittarius moon moms usually end up unexpectedly pregnant. i've noticed that a lot of sag moons are not aware of their cycle which can definitely be responsible for unexpected pregnancies. nonetheless, their pregnancy + motherhood is something they ended up being excited about. they could have had a "fuck it, we ball" mentality because realistically speaking, such is life. lack of preparation could have led to instability in your mother's life while she was pregnant + even after giving birth, bouncing around from place to place. sagittarius moon mamas usually have a youthful + humorous personality, being able to relate with their children + make them laugh. it can be hard to take a sagittarius moon mother seriously because they're usually deemed as the "cool moms" that are very lenient with their children. they can often struggle with disciplining their children because of their own free-spirit nature. if your mother didn't prioritize structure + routine while raising you, it's possible that you downloaded that naturally chaotic, fiery, and unpredictable energy that she also has. sagittarius moon mamas need to be able to teach their children that there are consequences to their actions so that their kids don't end up getting in trouble later on in life or even dangerous situations. hold your own mother accountable for her actions + don't be afraid to put her in her place! she has a lot to learn from her experience as a mother, which includes listening to the ones that she birthed.
capricorn moon: capricorn moon mothers usually have children later on in life (not always though) - either way, the universe granted them their babies when they were ready + prepared to take on this mission as a mother. before motherhood, capricorn moon mommies could have performed the motherly role in other ways (eldest sister, nursing/doctor/healer career, etc etc) so this is not their first rodeo. capricorn moons get a reputation for being cold + stern, which is how they may come across but really they are just not about the bullshit + they take their role as a mother very seriously. they recognize how serious motherhood is and therefore you are going to respect the fuck out of your capricorn mother, even if you don't agree with some of the things that she has tried to instill in you. capricorn moon mothers are focused on legacy + will do her best to make sure that she raises well-rounded children, setting them up for success. so if you have the kind of mother that has tried to shove education + career down your throat, it's because she just wants you to be successful. they also may struggle with being in their feminine energy, especially if your mother is the provider in the house so as her child, you should encourage her to do some therapeutic activities with you to ease some of that stress. though she takes her role as a mother very seriously, there is no denying how stressful the role is on her + can really take a toll on her physical body. if she's open to it because i know how traditional capricorn moons can be, i highly recommend going to therapy together in order to unpack + heal some of those deep seated emotional blockages that can really help to improve + strengthen the family unit.
aquarius moon: these are the unorthodox mothers. the mothers that have instilled confidence in their children from a very early age. your mother may have gotten pregnancy at an awkward time in her life, therefore she realized that she had to start getting real strategic around here to ensure success for this nu era in her life. with an aquarius moon mother, there may have been some distance between you two, whether it be physical or emotional distance. i've noticed that people with aquarius moon mothers were raised by their grandparents or were adopted + don't really know their mother like that (along with pisces moon mamas). if your mother was present throughout your entire upbringing, you may have noticed that she was preoccupied with other tasks such as showing up for her tasks in the real world. there could be strain between you and your mother because you may have felt like she could have paid more attention to you. regardless of how your relationship with your mother manifested, you more than likely came out to be very independent + confident enough to march to the beat of your own drum. these are the moms that started cursing in front of their kids since they were babies. because aquarius moon mamas are very independent themselves, you could have felt like your aquarius moon mama robbed you of your childhood because you too had to learn how to become independent + self-reliant from a young age, resulting in inner child wounds. because the relationship that you have with your mother is not like the traditional mother-child relationship, she can come off more like a friend or an older sister, also resulting in mother wounds because of that lack of motherly nurturance that the child craves + needs. learning to become emotionally vulnerable + transparent with your mother is a theme in order to evolve the relationship. validate where you feel like she may have lacked while also respecting the fact that she did the best that she knew how to. she needs you as someone to hold her ego accountable.
pisces moon: similar to the aqua moon mom, your mother may have been there, but also not "there". there could have been a period in your life where your mother was not physically present + you had to be raised by someone other than her (grandparents, foster care, aunts/uncles, etc). your mother may not have been in the most ideal situation when she got pregnant with you + pregnancy could have also been a karmic consequence for not listening to her intuition. regardless, when she knew she was pregnant, there was no way she could give up the opportunity to be a mother. if your mom was physically away from you, she was always there in spirit, praying for you + making sure that you are spiritually protected even if it's just by asking the powers that be to watch over you. like the other water moons, pisces moon mama may have had a traumatic relationship with their mother + may have transferred over that pain into the relationship that you've had with your mom. having a pisces moon mommy is not for the weak, especially if she didn't do her due diligence of karmic clean up, leaving it for you to take responsibility for. pisces moon mamas may also avoid the accountability + the responsibility of being a mother because the weight of motherhood is just too heavy, especially if she has lack of support, which often times they do. regardless of how your relationship is with mom, the energetic bond runs so deep as you are strongly karmically bound in order for certain karmic missions to be completed. definitely not the most reliable mom, but at the end of the day, it will forever be all love when it comes to her children. it's best to just accept her as is - whatever has transpired is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to do better for your own life.
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mismatched-sockss · 1 month
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Kiss it better
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» Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!BAU!Reader » Wordcount: 2,4k » Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, non-sexual nudeness and touching (except for maybe a short allusion but emily turns reader down), reader has female anatomy (breasts are mentioned), mentions of unsub beating up reader and the resulting injuries, reader takes unspecified pain medication, pet names (honey, my love, baby) » A/N: no detailed body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general
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You tried to muffle the pained groan when you leaned into the shower to turn the water on, so Emily wouldn't hear. You didn't want her to worry her again. Still, not even five seconds later she slithered into the bathroom, almost slipping on the floor with her socked feet as she ran to the door.
"What are you doing?", she asked warily, her brows furrowed as she watched you like a hawk.
"Taking a shower?" You slowly turned to her and simultaneously started to unbutton your shirt. Your knuckles ached slightly from the movement, but the pain was not bad enough that you would have to stop.
"Yes, I can see that. Why are you doing it alone?"
"Because I'm a grown woman and can tak- ow!" Pain shot through your whole upper body when you shrugged the shirt off and moved your arm wrong. You tried to breathe through the pain and shot Emily a thankful smile when she helped you to fully remove your shirt.
She gasped when she saw the full extent of your injuries when she turned back to you after she threw your shirt into the laundry basket. She had been busy dealing with the Unsub and the local police earlier when the EMTs checked you, so she only knew what happend from what you told the team. This was the first time she saw the result of what the man had done to you.
Hotch had sent you to interview a potential witness, but when you knocked on the door the guy freaked when he saw your credentials. You fought with him but he got a couple of good kicks in once he had you on the floor.
Luckily you only had a couple of small wounds were the skin on your knuckles had split from the punches you were able to land, a cracked rib or two and a slight concussion. The big bruise that covered your right side looked really bad; it reached over half your stomach and your ribs up to your shoulder blade, shining in an angry mixture of different shades of red and purple.
As long as you moved with caution the pain was manageable so far and the bruises looked a lot worse than your injuries actually were. You could only imagine how bad it must look to Emily right now.
"Oh honey", she breathed out as she stepped closer. She reached out for you, her fingertips just barely touching the skin of your shoulder as she traced them along the bruise. Even though the bathroom had gotten warmer as it slowly filled with the steam from the hot water, her touch send a shiver down your spine and goosebumps started rising on your skin. "I'm so sorry. I should have gone with you."
You smiled at her as you took her hand between yours. "It's not your fault, okay?" You squeezed her hand and started to draw soothing circles on her skin with your thumb. "We had no way of knowing that Keller was the Unsub, when I left to interview him. And I was the one who insisted I would be fine on my own. Also, you already were halfway to the M.E.s office by then, so you wouldn't have been there either way."
"Still. Reid could have gone to talk to the M.E. alone. Then I could have gone with you." Emily raised her other hand to your cheek and softly stroked her thumb over your cheekbone. "I don't like seeing you hurt."
"I know, baby. But I'm okay." You crooked your head to the side as you leaned into her palm and rolled your eyes as you corrected yourself, because physically you were far from okay. "Okay, more like I'll live."
"You better...", she pouted.
You laughed and after she joined in, a sign that the tension was slowly leaving her, you leaned in to close the space between you both and kissed her.
Emily smiled when you parted and nodded her head to the running shower. "Let's get you cleaned up." She helped you to take off the rest of your clothes and then took off her own so she could join you in the shower. She insisted to do all the work and ordered you to "just stand there and look pretty."
The both of your stepped inside the shower stall and a deep sigh left your lips when the warm water hit your skin, immediately relaxing your tense muscles. The water pressure was light enough that it didn't hurt when it landed on your skin.
Emily reached behind you to grab one of the bottles and signaled you to turn around and face away from her, before she flipped the lid and squeezed some of the flowery smelling stuff into her hand. You closed your eyes when she started to shampoo your hair, her fingers gently massaging your head. She giggled when you hummed. “Feels good?”, she asked. You just hummed again and let your head fall back. When she was done with the shampoo, she unhooked the shower head and rinsed your hair out, then she worked some of the conditioner in as well. Every step - shampoo, rinse, conditioner, rinse - she softly massaged your scalp.
She proceeded to lather her hands up with shower gel. While she was doing so she planted a small kiss onto your right shoulder, right above the edge of your bruise. Emily's hands glided over your skin, washing your arms and your back, and she made sure to move over your injuries as softly as she could so she wouldn't hurt you.
By the time she made you turn back around, her touch had done much more to you than just washing your body. With a new portion of shower gel she started on your collar bones and worked her way down, over your breasts and stomach.
Your breathing quickened and you put your left hand on her waist to pull her closer. You tried to kiss her, but Emily turned her face away and chuckled. “Nope.”
“Mean”, you said and pouted. She kissed your nose before she bend down to wash your legs.
"I'm not being mean, but you are hurt. You'll have to wait until you're better, my love." She looked up at you and the sight alone - Emily on her knees in front of you and the way she was looking into your eyes, paired with her hands on your thighs - almost drove you insane. Like you said. Mean.
You groaned and rolled your eyes playfully. "Why do you have to be so responsible?"
"Because I love you and because I'm your boss."
"Just because you've been in the BAU longer than me, doesn't make you my boss”, you laughed.
Emily shrugged, a wide smile on her lips. "Tomato, tomato. It's pretty much the same thing."
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After the both of you were done in the bathroom - freshly showered, bodies lotioned and dressed in comfortable clothes - Emily gave you some pain killers and sat you down on the couch so she could apply new bandages on your hand.
“It's really not that bad”, you said. She held your right hand in both of hers, examining your knuckles - split skin accompanied with light red bruises that were already turning purple.
She shook her head. “It's bad enough. Just let me do this, please?” Emily didn't wait for your answer, didn't even look up at you, before she dabbed some disinfectant on your knuckles; then she wrapped the new bandage around your hand.
“Okay”, you breathed out, giving in. You could tell she still blamed herself that you got hurt, heard it in the way her voice had cracked just now. If dressing your wounds and tending to your every needs would help that she felt better about it, you'd let her.
You didn't blame her. Or even Hotch. The only person at fault was Keller. But you knew, that if the roles were reversed and Emily would have gotten injured in the field while you weren't around, you would blame yourself as well. Probably even if you would have been around.
So you let her do her thing. You let her fix you something to eat, let her wrap you up in a cozy blanket and let her brush your hair. You would lie if you would say, that you didn't like it.
It was still early enough in the evening that you had time to cuddle up on the couch with each other and watch TV while sharing a tub of ice cream. Emily had you sitting between her legs, your back to her chest, so she could hold you without you having to lie on your side. One of her hands had found its way back into your hair, her fingers playing with your hair and untangling the knots that were back in your hair after she had brushed it earlier.
You had stopped paying attention to the TV a long time ago, fully focusing and enjoying her touch. From time to time you felt her planting a quick kiss here and there - the side of your head, your neck, your shoulder.
Slowly but surely it lulled you to sleep, you eyelids getting heavier by the minute. You adjusted your position, turning your head to the side to lean your forehead against her neck. Just when you were about to drift off, your hand slit off Emily's thigh and it collided with the empty ice cream container next to you. You jumped, not because it hurt your hand but because it had startled you in your half conscious state. Immediately after you doubled over in pain; which you regretted the second you did it as it only made it worse.
“Woah, hey, hey.” Emily grabbed your shoulders to hold you steady.
Tears shot into your eyes and you whimpered. It felt like your whole right side was on fire. Now with the sudden movement and since you had rested for a while, your more than sore muscles ached even more than they had before.
A sob fought its way out of your throat and before you knew it, you were full on crying. The crying didn't make it better: your head started to pound again, your side got worse as your body shook with every sob and when you started to hyperventilate your ribs violently protested against having to hold your lungs in.
Emily held you against her, making sure to not hurt you any further of course, and brushed the hair from your forehead. She stroked your hair as she was trying to calm you and she whispered “Shhh, it's okay... It's okay. Just breath.” into your ear over and over again. It hurt her, that she couldn't do anything to help you, to ease your pain. To take the pain away.
It took a while for you to calm down, until your breath evened out and your sobs stopped, only soft whimpers leaving your lips now. Emily asked you if she could get you anything and when you asked for painkillers, she sighed and kissed the side of your head. “It's too early to take another dose. I'm sorry, baby. We-”
“I don't care”, you cried. “Please...”
For a short moment she fought with herself. She wanted to help you, but you only had taken the last pill about two hours ago; the prescription said to wait at least four hours between doses. But with one look into your eyes, she dismissed all caution and nodded. If it only had been 30 minutes, it would have been a different kind of story. And not keeping to the advised time frame one time, shouldn't hurt.
“Okay”, Emily breathed out and carefully got up to get the medication and a glass of water. When she came back, she took a seat next to you and placed the pill in your hand. You took it and after drinking some of the water you gave her the glass back. “Thank you.”
“Of course”, she said and placed the glass down. “Why don't we get you into bed, huh?”
You just nodded. All you wanted to do right now was sleep. You were so tired. From the day, from the crying, from the pain.
“Do you want to go now, or do you want to wait a moment for the medication to work?”, she asked and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. God, you hoped the pain killers would work their magic quickly.
“Now please”, you said in a low voice.
Emily took your hand and helped you stand up, walking you slowly over to your shared bedroom. You stopped at your side of the bed, waited for her to pull back the blanket and then carefully laid down with her help.
“I'll be right back”, she told you, once you were all set. While she was gone, you closed your eyes and hoped, that your pain would stop soon. It had dulled a bit by now and lying down had helped your body relax. Right now, your headache was hurting the most in your body. Luckily it had stopped pounding in the rhythm of your heartbeat, but there was still a constant, sharp pain that felt like your head was about to split open.
You laid your wrist over your eyes - the bandage felt both soft and rough on your skin – and you kept it there, not moving it even when a soft clink on your nightstand indicated Emily's return; presumably with a fresh glass of water. You could hear her walking around the room and shutting off the big room light before she climbed into bed.
She softly touched your wrist and moved it away from your face so she could hold your hand in both of hers in between your bodies. “Are you feeling better yet?”
You turned your head to look at her, watching her pull your hand closer to her face and planting the softest kisses on your bandaged knuckles, one by one. You smiled at her. “A bit, meds are slowly kicking in, I think.”
“Good”, Emily said as she smiled back at you from behind your hand. “I'm glad. Try to get some sleep.” She sat up slightly and supported her weight on her elbow so she could lean down. First, she kissed your lips, then she planted a kiss on your cheek and one on your eyebrow.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
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nytb · 6 months
Text
Punch after punch
Click here first <3
A born and raised Zaragozan, surrounded by boxing for her whole life, Y/N. A cocky persona, an undefeated record - everyone wanted to take her down, but Alexia only desired to be taken out by the Spaniard.
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Both stars met at Mapi's new apartment festivities - that woman always had an excuse to throw a dinner party. After many attempts to turn the invite down, Y/N caved - Mapi was one of her childhood friends, that meant a lot to Y/N.
Little did the boxing star know, it was a setup.
Mapi had been led down the "it could turn out to be the romantic story everyone dreams of" road. Alexia had her way with words, sweetening a manipulation scheme into a cute little invite to the dinner party a certain Y/N would happen to attend.
To be completely honest, Alexia had been pining over the boxer for a while now. In Spain, any female athlete that rises to the top that fast is going to show up on people's radars.
In Alexia's case, Y/N's first appearance in the midfielder's life was through an iPhone screen - a pool party at a rooftop in Zaragoza, both Y/N and Mapi's home-town. The boxer was the center of the party, women practically threw themselves at her at any possibility - but Y/N remained respectful, putting space between anyone who so much as dared to approach her body.
That detail was engraved in Alexia's mind - well that and her body. Boxers are known to have the body everyone dreams of, especially during fighting season.
Alexia had made it her mission to be one of the first people to show up, something that alerted Mapi - the midfielder loved to be fashionably late, to be the center of attention when she arrived anywhere.
As people showed up, Alexia's demeanor changed. Person after person walked through the door, Y/N was nowhere in sight. Was she a no show? Was her word worth nothing?
That was until high pitch squeaks came from the door. Y/N had arrived and the dinner guests knew it. The boxer, now tangled with two beautiful women on her neck as they welcomed her, didn't even fight against the invasion of her private space.
Odd - that's all that Alexia allowed herself to think of the situation, jealousy wasn't yet an option.
As Y/N made her way to the terrace, where Mapi was entertaining her Norwegian girlfriend's friends, Alexia made it her mission to stay on the sidelines. She wasn't about to be caught gravelling for someone's attention.
"I see you still love throwing parties" Y/N hugged Mapi, everyone around them eyeing the boxer up and down.
Tight T-Shirt, ripped Jeans, simple sneakers. A simple fit but paired with a godlike physique could be the downfall of anyone.
"And I see that you're still a workaholic" the defender replies "Didn't even have time to dry your hair or is this a quick visit?" she questions.
The boxer was quick to reply "Do you really think that I would do that to you?"
"Wouldn't be the first time"
Mapi had grown accustomed to the little time Y/N had for friends or family.
"In my defense" Y/N started "That time I didn't know that it was a stay over party" she joked.
"Let me introduce you" Mapi grabbed Y/N and threw her to the wolves. "Seeing as how this might be my only chance, it's your time to meet everyone" she laughed mischievously.
As the party went on, Alexia - still holding on to the not catching me groveling tactic - decided that enough was enough.
Making her way to the terrace, hoping to come up with a good excuse to leave the party early, Alexia was snatched by a tall Norwegian.
"Everything ok?" Ingrid questioned, full worry on display.
"Oh yeah yeah..." the midfielder replied, clearly her excuse was still being workshopped in her head "I - I don't.. "
The Norwegian cut her off "I think that the excuse you're looking for is over there" pointing to a corner of the terrace.
Y/N, sat on the floor, leaning back on her arms behind her back. All alone.
"Go" Ingrid surely knew something. "Don't think that you insisting on joining a random dinner party went unnoticed by me" she smiled.
Fuck.
"How- " the midfielder began to question only to be cut off again "Go quickly, I'm pretty sure that someone else is eyeing her, so don't waste your chance" and with a smirk and a quick turn of her hips Ingrid was off, back to her girlfriend's arms.
"Not like the noise?" Alexia asked as she joined Y/N's side.
"More like I would rather be sleeping and not have hawks eyeing me down like I'm their next prey" the boxer replied.
"Wha-"
"Oh, you're doing it too" Apparently everyone is cutting Alexia off tonight.
"I see that you didn't need me to introduce you girls" Mapi jokes, clearly not knowing how sour the introduction had gotten.
"Actually, I wanted to go say bye to you" Alexia hugged Mapi "I have to go, you know- stuff" the midfielder didn't even try to come up with an excuse.
"That was odd" the defender turned to see how Alexia was actually leaving. "I feel like I missed something" she scratched the back of her head, clearly puzzled by the interaction.
"Yup, my fault" Y/N stood up. "I'll go fix it, see you later" the boxer excused herself, picking up her pace to not be stopped by any guests as she made her way to the door.
Apartments having an underground parking was never this useful, even if Alexia wanted to leave, she wouldn't be able to do so before being seen by Y/N.
"Hey" the boxer exclaimed, hoping to catch Alexia's attention. "Sorry about that" she excused herself, clearly acknowledging that she was an utter dick to the midfielder previously "Tough day at work" she approached quickly.
"We all have those" Alexia replied, cold voice, standoffish. "Not really a good excuse though"
"Yeah because your having stuff to do was a good excuse" Y/N joked, it falling flat as Alexia didn't seem the slightest bit amused by the comment.
"Maybe we don't all eye you like hawks" the midfielder attacked back.
"Maybe I want you to"
"Hello, I'm Alexia and I have stuff to do" the midfielder mocked the boxer's previous failed introduction as she turned her back to the boxer, reaching for her car's door, wanting to flee whatever was happening.
"No" Y/N kept the midfielder's car closed, now positioned at an arm's reach between the boxer and her own car "Not going anywhere until I at least get your phone number"
The midfielder turned around "Has this move actually ever worked?" she scoffed.
"Maybe its the first time that I try it"
"You should try harder, this isn't going to work on me"
"So there is something that would work on you?" The boxer smirked, slowly entering Alexia's personal space. Slowly forcing the midfielder's back against her own car, the midfielder allowed whatever was happening.
"I thought that you liked keeping your personal space - private"
"Scared of what happens when I don't?" the boxer questioned, whispering mere inches away from Alexia's lips.
"No" a whisper that came off like a soft moan slipped her mouth.
"So if I kiss you, right here" the boxer graced Alexia's bottom lip with her thumb, pulling her closer "You wouldn't fight it?"
The midfielder's hands slid to the boxer's abdomen "You missed your chance", she whispered against Y/N's lips.
"Are you sure about that?" Y/N looked at the midfielder up and down, hunger in her eyes "Because your body says differently"
"And what are you going to do about it?"
"Maybe I would start by kissing you" the boxer pinned Alexia's hips with her own "I would start here" she whispers against the midfielder's neck, Alexia throws her head back from sheer pleasure. "Maybe I would lift you up into my arms, place you on the bonnet of your car" Y/N kept Alexia fantasizing "I would devour you right here - " her hands hover against the midfielder's body and before she could finish her sentence Alexia pounces.
Bringing the boxer's lips against her own, digging her nails into Y/N's lower back.
That's when Y/N took back control of the situation, pinning the midfielder against the car, holding the midfielder's head firmly in place as she worked her mouth.
The kiss quickly turned rough as Y/N picked up the pace, slipping her tongue into the midfielder's mouth as Alexia's quiet moans turned louder.
Y/N's mouth went straight to the midfielder's neck, gently nibbling at it as she picked the midfielder up off the ground. Alexia's ankles locking behind the boxer's back, bringing her even closer to her body.
"More" she begs and Y/N obliges, laying her on Alexia's bonnet, just like she promised. Tugging at the midfielder's dress, slowly lifting it while she deepened the kiss.
"More" Alexia moaned.
"Command me" Y/N nibbled at the midfielder's ear "Tell me what you want"
"You" she begged "Here, right now"
That was all it took. Y/N grabs Alexia's body and places her lower, letting her legs dangle from the bonnet. Settling herself on her knees Y/N devoured the midfielder, at first slowly, gently licking her from entrance to clit, reaching up to play with her nipples but as Alexia begged for more Y/N obliged.
Rough licks, putting pressure on her clit before introducing a finger into the midfielder and as she moaned, rolling her hips as she looked for a release of pleasure.
"Still." Y/N ordered "Stay. Still." She punctuated every word.
For a minute she followed the instructions given to her but as Y/N introduced a second finger into the midfielder she broke. Grabbing the boxer's hand that was previously stimulating her hard nipple, playing with it between thumb and forefinger.
Y/N stopped, lifting herself off the ground and hovering over Alexia. Keeping the midfielder's hands pinned against the bonnet, grabbing her wrists.
"I told you to stay still" Y/N groaned, pure lust displayed in Alexia's beautiful hazel eyes, mirroring her own. As the midfielder reached up, trying to pounce, taking advantage of how close the midfielder was, Y/N pinned her harder.
"No" Y/N muttered "That's not how this works"
The boxer grabbed Alexia's hips, leading the midfielder onto her feet. "You get what I give you" Y/N commanded "Now turn around"
Alexia didn't fight it, quickly turning on her feet and as Y/N pulled her flush against her body she moaned.
The boxer's hands travel down Alexia's body as she sucks on her neck, nibbles her ear, releases the midfielder's hair from the loose bun.
A quick attack as from one second to the next Y/N bit Alexia's neck, this time roughly, as she inserted a finger into the midfielder making her moan in the process. Her head flew back giving Y/N even more access to her neck and as she grabbed the boxer's hair, Y/N attacked her mouth.
Her tongue slips into Alexia's mouth, in total sync with her finger as she adds another. The midfielder's hips rolled again but this time Y/N pinned her hard against her body, not allowing the midfielder to move a single inch.
"Still" Y/N repeated.
Alexia moaned, each time louder as Y/N brought her close to release.
"Let go" the boxer ordered and seconds later Alexia crumbled, coming on Y/N's fingers, her hips shuddering. A loud moan threatens to leave her lips as Y/N muffles the sound with a deep kiss, this time softer. "Beautiful"
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jeongheart · 1 year
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touch
summary: 'physical touch refers to expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection'.
w.c: 1.4k.
tags: strangers to friends to lovers (kinda?), mutual pining, fluff.
a.n: i'm soft, this was inspired by that video of jeongin bumping into jisung lol. my first innie work aaa i'm so happy that i finished it, i'm so proud of this one too.
as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes, leave your thoughts if you like! it means a lot.
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Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.
He strongly believes that his personal space is sacred, and he can't understand the people who require physical contact 24/7.
It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes (physical) displays of affection, not that he doesn't have them with the people he loves, he prefers to let them know that he loves them with a special gift on their birthday or by buying them something that reminds him of that person.
He especially hates hugs. He feels trapped by the other person, and despite the fact that in the 22 years of his life he repeated it a thousand times, his family and friends don't seem to get the hint.
He doesn't want to be surly, really. It's something that has been like that since he can remember.
Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.
Except if that someone is you.
It's funny actually, you'd met casually, the way people met before: in real life. The first day of college was tough, everything and everyone was new and having to get used to a "grown-up" routine all of a sudden was something that took time.
He remembers the time exactly: 07:20 am. It was the first of the day, he was sitting in front of the class, he had a bad habit of being easily distracted, so he had to force himself to overcome his shame and desire to sleep to be in front of the blackboard.
The class started at 07:30, and the room was almost full. The professor arrived less than a minute ago and Jeongin was glad to be alone and in peace. His notebook lay open in front of him, the pages white and spotless.
Until you arrived, late.
You came running, it was obvious that you'd fallen asleep. Your hair was somewhat messy, probably due to the wind and the run you made through the building, your face was red (from embarrassment and exertion), but a smile was present on your face.
The professor looked at you funny and with a gesture of her hand she asked you to come in and take a seat somewhere free.
The only one was next to Jeongin.
Your eyes lit up at the sight of the empty chair, and even though you couldn't see it, Jeongin rolled his eyes as he saw you approaching the table.
With the woman summarizing her presentation, you arranged your things on the table (everything was in pastel colors, the blonde noticed) and you looked at him expectantly with that smile still on your face.
He could tell you were alone, actually, you were the only two who were. All your other classmates knew each other. So your attempt to start a conversation with him was logical, you also realized that he was alone.
"It looks like we'll be buddies" You smiled again and then told him your name while you extended your hand in an attempt to shake his, a very old gesture and not funny at all according to Jeongin.
He played dumb, but he told you his name. And then he said nothing more, watching out of the corner of his eye as you slowly lower your hand to rest it on your lap.
The weeks passed like this, you had a clear love language and unfortunately it was the one that Jeongin hated the most. You were always trying to touch him, not in a wicked or weird way, just friendly since that's how you showed affection. You were friends, but he couldn't tell you 'stop doing that' every time you reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.
You annoyed him every time you did that, but he couldn't deny that when you weren't getting clingy he appreciated your company. You were a comfortable presence in his life most of the time, and he liked not being alone in an unfamiliar environment where everyone greeted each other and ate together every day.
The first part of the academic year ended in the blink of an eye and the relationship between the two of you was only growing.
Jeongin didn't know when he let you touch his arm for the first time, he thinks it was in the library when you were studying for an exam.
He was nervous as he couldn't memorize anything and you, ever so nice, reached out your hand in an attempt to comfort him to rest it on Jeongin's left arm which was sprawled on top of the book he was trying to read.
Jeongin hadn't noticed that he hadn't tensed like the other times and he just kept reading and rereading the same sentences while the heat rose to your cheeks.
You didn't know what changed, but the fact that the boy who moved away every time you got at least 5 cm closer than normal had finally relaxed around you had butterflies flying in your stomach.
The months unfolded normal after that, and Jeongin would let you into his bubble of personal space more and more often.
He definitely hadn't realized how much he liked to feel your warm hands on his when he needed to calm down before a presentation or how his heart would jump in his chest when he saw you smile after you hugged him goodbye when he dropped you at your house after college.
"I like you a lot, Innie" You told him after the second exam.
Another final exam ended, and with it, the end of the year was drawing near. Jeongin was going to a vacation with his family in Busan and you definitely couldn't go weeks and weeks without seeing him, or his dimples or hearing his laugh and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't tell him everything that was on your mind every time you were together.
Jeongin looked like a statue, his mouth was opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. His mind had short-circuited and it seemed that he had lost all ability to form a coherent sentence.
The snow was falling around the two of you, the heartless winter wrapped you from head to toe and as the minutes passed without an answer, your heart raced more and more and if Jeongin paid enough attention he could see how your eyes began to water as you overthought your sudden confession.
Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and you were making a fool of yourself. You began to prepare the speech of 'sorry, I shouldn't have said anything' to save your heart from the impending rejection and to be able to escape from that situation as quickly as possible.
Until Jeongin moved, he took two short steps until he was face to face to you. He was a head taller than you and your eyes searched his urgently, trying to decipher the answer he hadn't put into words.
The blond placed his big hands on your cheeks, reddened by the cold and now by shame, and caressed your skin with his thumbs.
You swore that if it wasn't for his soft grip on your face, you might have passed out from how fast your heart was beating, your legs felt like jelly, and the suspense felt eternal. You wanted to yell at him to answer or for him to do something, anything to finally stop your heart racing with feelings.
You opened your mouth to talk, but Jeongin closed the distance between you by placing his lips on yours.
You froze at first, arms still on either side of your body but then, as if awakened from a trance, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lose yourself in the heat of the kiss, everything around you felt cold except for this moment, the soft feeling of his plush lips on yours and the warmth spreading from the tip of your fingertoes to every strand of hair on your head.
He moved only a few inches from you, enough to be able to whisper over your lips "I like you too".
You laughed slowly, so softly that it almost felt like a whisper, so only he could hear it "Yes, I think I realized that" And tangling your hands behind his neck you brought him closer to you to kiss him again.
Jeongin doesn't like to be touched, but you were the only exception.
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romanoffsdarling · 6 months
Text
Summertime Sadness
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Pairing: Dom!Wanda Maximoff x MILF!Reader
Summary: You hadn’t expected the summer after your divorce to be anything more than you simply getting used to being alone and drowning your sorrows in glasses of wine. The sudden homecoming of your daughter brings those plans to a screeching halt, but nothing could have prepared you for the woman that she brought along. Her best friend, the woman you’ve been hearing about in all of her phone calls home, offering you a glimpse into parts of yourself you never even knew were there. 
Word Count: 4,891
Warnings: Legal age gap, oral (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), and hints of possessiveness. 18+, Minors DNI.
Author’s Note: I’ve seen a lot of stories with Wanda being the MILF, rightfully so, but I wanted to spin it a bit and make the Reader the MILF in this instance. Hope you all enjoy! (Also, I’m so sorry for disappearing for so long, college has been absolute hell.)
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You never truly comprehend how much time you waste, how much had truly slipped through your fingers, until it’s already too late to do anything about it. Until you look into the mirror and see the once youthful face marred by faint wrinkles, a sign of wisdom your best friend would tease, and hair speckled with the vaguest hint of grey. 
Twenty-five years... You had been married to your husband for twenty-five years; giving him your youth, giving him your heart and soul, and you never once imagined that he would have tossed all of that away for some floozy at his law firm. Never thought that you’d look down at your left hand and not see the delicate gold band situated on your ring finger. Of course, even now, you didn’t regret marrying him-- for it had given you the house you lived in now, the friends that had flocked to your side when the news of his infidelity spread through the neighborhood, and it gave you your darling daughter. Even if she was not yours by blood, you couldn’t imagine anyone housing the same space in your heart like your beautiful Natasha did. 
All you did regret was being stupid enough to trust him so much. For putting your faith, and your dreams, in his clearly incapable hands. It had hurt, and still does hurt, but it wasn’t because you had lost him-- your marriage, in truth, had been dead for years-- but for all the time you had lost in chasing smoke and mirrors; in staying for something that should have been let go of long ago. You hated him for what he did, for getting caught with his pants down in between his secretary’s thighs, but you hated him even more for not being man enough to simply let you go, to give up the fight when it had already been lost after his first thirty seconds with his new whore, and it’s for that reason that you were currently scrubbing every inch of his old office clean. 
You wanted to get rid of any reminder of him-- both in your home and in your mind. 
The smell of bleach and lemon disinfectant surrounds you, but you had long grown used to the cloying scent. Dark oak floors, and the matching desk, gleamed underneath the antique lighting of the room; it had been a long time since they had been given the proper care they needed. It seems that I have more in common with inanimate objects that I thought, you muse, a sense of bittersweet irony strewn within the thought. 
Settling back on your haunches, a sigh escapes your lips, and you roll your shoulders, wanting to relieve the tension that had been slowly building up for the past couple of hours. “I’m not getting any younger,” you mutter, tossing the damp rag to the side. “I just hope everything will get a bit easier.” 
Even to yourself you knew that was asking for a miracle. 
Before you could delve down into that specific line of thought, you faintly hear the sound of the front door being opened and the familiar sound of jangling keys with the slightly deadpan calling of ‘mom’ permeates the usual silence. The sound, although not unwelcome in the slightest, causes a small frown to furrow your brow all the same. 
“Natasha?” You call back, already making your way towards the living room, sure that your confusion rung clearly within your tone. An expression that only grows that much more pronounced when you’re met with the shimmering gaze of your daughter; tousled red hair cut short, falling to just above her shoulders, and her usual penchant of wearing darker colors being tantamount. “What are you doing home, sweetheart? I wasn’t expecting you for another month.” 
Her lips twist in a wry smile. “Are you not happy to see me, mother?” She tilts her head, faux hurt making an appearance. “I thought you’d be glad to see me.”
You gently swat her arm, before pulling her into a tight hug. “Of course, I’m happy to see you, Natasha,” you murmur, your lips briefly brush across her cheek before you disentangle from her completely. “I just know how you value your independence too.”
“I knew that you were alone in the house, mom,” she replies, a shrug calmly following her words. “I didn’t want you to wallow in self-pity while that fucker I call a father gets his rocks off with someone half his age across town.” 
“Language, Natasha,” you gently chide, well aware your daughter was in her early twenties now and didn’t need to be reprimanded for it. “You know that your father still loves you dearly, and I believe he’s excited to see you whenever you get around to going to his new house.” 
Jade eyes roll so hard you’re almost concerned about them getting stuck. “He should have thought about that before he stuck his tongue down someone else’s throat.” Natasha’s lips press into a line, clearly agitated, but she takes a deep breath through her nose and forcibly calms herself down. “But I’m not here to talk about him. I’m here to spend time with you.” 
Sudden movement from behind Natasha causes your reply to catch in your throat when you finally focus on the woman standing behind your daughter. Whose presence you were completely astonished you hadn’t noticed before, especially given how electrifying it felt to have her emerald eyes honed directly on you, but your gentle smile doesn’t fall away; even if you do feel it twitch slightly due to your surprise. Your hand, that was near enough to your daughter’s forearm, clenches around it in a silent reprimand, but you try your best to keep the pleasant tone to your voice. 
“I see that my daughter didn’t think it best to introduce her guest first.” You gently pinch Natasha once before stepping closer to the unknown woman in your home. “I apologize for not noticing you sooner.” 
The woman smirks, the light emerald of her eyes shifting to tantalizing jade as she observes you. “It’s quite alright,” she replies, her voice a husky whisper that’s enveloped in an accent you couldn’t pinpoint the origin of. “I’m not surprised that Nat was too focused on her mother to remember me.” 
Subtext is etched into every inch of that statement, but you didn’t have time to even try to sift through it before your daughter’s teasing voice cuts through. 
“It’s not my fault my mother is more interesting than you, Wanda.” She slides past you to stand beside the now smiling woman. “You just need to learn to get on her level.”
Wanda’s gaze shifts from your daughter to you once more-- the barest hint of her earlier smirk returning. “I don’t know, Nat,” she teases, amusement, mixed with something else you couldn’t put a name to, laced within her words. “I think I quite like my view from where I’m at.”
Your daughter, once again, rolls her eyes skyward but her easygoing smile doesn’t leave her lips. “Mom.” She turns back to you and gestures towards Wanda. “This is Wanda Maximoff, I’ve talked about her a bit when I’ve called home.” 
The name finally clicks into place within your head. Memories of your daughter’s exasperated voice, filled with hints of fondness, come forth from the recesses of your mind. All of the stories, all of the thinly veiled jokes, that your daughter had shared with you, and the clear warmth that she felt for the other woman, brings a fond smile to your lips. An expression that causes various emotions to flicker across Wanda’s face for the briefest of moments before it smooths over. 
“So, you’re the one my daughter kept talking about?” You couldn’t keep the genuine amusement out of your tone if you tried. “Her best friend?”
Wanda arches a brow. “I’m your best friend, Nat?” She playfully places her hands to her heart. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me.” 
You can tell your daughter just barely refrains from rolling her eyes. Not even bothering to deign Wanda’s teasing words with a response, Natasha turns back to you. “Can we go put our things away, mom?” She rolls her shoulders, and, for the first time, you notice how tired she looked. Of course, it was over a four-hour drive from your house in Westview to her college in Ithaca. 
“Of course, sweetheart,” you soothed. “I’m just going to finish up some work down here and then I’ll get started on dinner, okay?”
Natasha smiles. “You’re the best, mom.” 
Your heart flutters at her words, a simple compliment to most, but one that you’ve desperately needed in the last few months. Knowing that you may start crying at any moment if you tried to speak, you wave your daughter towards the stairs and step back towards the hallway to continue your work in the office. But, before you could a throat clearing behind you causes you to turn back around-- only to be met by beautiful emerald eyes that seemed to encompass you in a bubble you didn’t know if you wanted to escape from. 
“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Your gaze quickly flicks over her body: from the black skinny jeans with holes, to the simple red leather jacket, and the casually tousled way her dark auburn hair fell over her shoulders. “Did you need something?” 
Pale pink lips quirk for a moment, before a genuine look of something passes over Wanda’s face once more. “I don’t need anything.” She shakes her head, a low chuckle escapes her, but you weren’t quite sure what was so funny. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here with Natasha. Especially since it was clear you didn’t know I was coming in the first place.” 
“It’s not a problem, Wanda,” you reply, a smile of your own playing across your lips. “I’m glad that I won’t be alone in this house for however long you both decide to stay. It definitely beats what I was going to do.”
“What were you going to do?” 
You shrug. “Just wallow around and get drunk off of some wine.”
Wanda considers you for a moment, emerald eyes cast in shadow. “I’m not so sure about the wallowing, but I’d love to have a glass of wine with you sometime.” 
“Oh.” You’re surprised by the simplicity in which Wanda makes the offer. None of Natasha’s previous friends, or best friends, had ever bothered, or seemed that keen, to spend time with you. Not that you’d ever fault them for doing so. Who would want to spend time with the parents of their best friend? “I’m sure you’ll have much more interesting things to do, Wanda.” 
A smile, much softer than the one’s she had shown you before, plays at the corners of her lips. “I’m not so sure about that, but the offer still stands regardless.” She looks over her shoulder when the call of her name from Natasha’s room spears through the house, an almost disgruntled look etching itself across her face because of it. “I think it’ll be fun to get to know the woman that raised Nat. Her stories of you haven’t done you justice in the slightest.” 
You’re not able to reply before Natasha’s annoyed voice from the upper-level calls Wanda towards the stairs, clearly impatient with how long her friend was taking. Conversation over then, you think, taking a small step back, towards the direction of the kitchen. The action elicits the smallest of frowns from Wanda, an expression that is there and gone before you could even blink, and you offer her one last wave before heading further into your house, vaguely aware that you didn’t hear the telltale signs of footsteps on your stairs until you rounded the corner. 
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The following week passes quickly, and you easily grow used to having Natasha back home-- Wanda slipping in seamlessly throughout it all. It was nice to have some company in the large house, even if Natasha did tend to disappear to reconnect with friends she had left behind once she went off to New York and left Westview behind, but knowing that your daughter was there, and would continue to be, if you needed her soothed you in a way that you hadn’t even known you needed. 
Wanda, despite Natasha’s persistent pestering, seemed to enjoy spending her time lounging around the house, citing that she didn’t know anyone in Westview and didn’t plan on getting chummy with the locals, offering her help whenever she saw you doing something, with an ever present look in her eyes that you still couldn’t place. Although you didn’t exactly mind spending time with the younger woman, her perception of the world was enlightening, along with your shared interests in various topics that had never seem to intrigue anyone else except you-- until now, of course. 
You could feel yourself getting close to her, closer than you’ve allowed yourself to be in a long time. Not since college, you muse, taking a small sip of the chilled wine that Wanda had just brought you. Finally deciding, with Natasha going out for friend’s birthday party, that it’d the perfect time to finally share that glass of wine. You didn’t bother trying to argue with her, not when she looked so earnest in her request. 
Wanda settles next to you, causing you to shift your position, pressing your back into the arm rest, in order to be able to look at her. Emerald eyes were glued onto you, a smile playing on the edges of her lips, before she shifts into a comfortable position of her own. 
“So,” you begin, setting down your wine on the coffee table. “What are you planning on doing once you graduate college? Any idea on where you’d like to end up?” 
“I’ve always loved the idea of being a Producer, being the magic behind the scenes if you will,” Wanda replies, a charming grin catching her lips. “And, yes, I do believe there’s a place that’s caught my eye on where I’d like to end up.” 
You arch a brow. “Really?” 
Wanda simply hums in response, a spark of mischief dancing within her gaze-- a look that you had long since grown used to. It’s clear that she wasn’t going to answer you, not that you truly expected her to, after all what college kid has plans on where they’d like to end up? Ideas, perhaps, but nothing concrete as most go where the wind takes them. 
“Well,” you continue, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “I’m glad that you have everything figured out. I definitely envy you for that?” 
The younger woman’s brow furrows at that, bottom lip disappearing behind pearly white teeth. “Why do you say that?” Emerald eyes flit over the immaculate expanse of your house, one that you had strived hard to maintain through the years. “I think you’re definitely a few steps ahead of me in that department.” 
“I wouldn’t say that.” You wave the pseudo-compliment away. “All of what I have isn’t what I originally dreamed of, or wished for, myself, but when certain cards are laid out in front of you.” Trailing off, you run a singular look over the now empty expanse of your ring finger. “You either fold or raise, I wasn’t willing to do the latter. Not when it had so many other consequences attached to it.” 
“What would you wish for then?” 
You shift your focus back to Wanda, confusion etched across your face. “What?” 
She waves a hand. “You said that all of this isn’t what you originally wished for yourself.” Wanda shrugs. “What is then? What would you wish for?” 
“I wish I could find someone that’d treat me in the way he never did, that’d show me what love truly is, and make me forget about all that he’s put me through,” you sigh, taking another sip of your wine. “Of course, with my age, I don’t think that’s really in the cards for me anymore.” 
Wanda scoffs. “I don’t think that’s true. I think there are quite a few people that’d love to be with you.”
Something tells you, maybe some deeper part, a more sensible part, of your brain, that you shouldn’t continue forward with this conversation, that you should take her words as the compliment they are, but another, more needy part of your brain, one that desperately needs to feel some form of validation after so long, doesn’t want to in the slightest. 
Rolling your shoulders, you level Wanda with a look. “Really?” She hums in confirmation. “And who might those people be?”
“Me.” 
If it wasn’t for your back being wedged against the armrest of your catch, you’re fairly certain you would have reared back completely at the calm nonchalance in which she gave you the answer. “Y-You can’t be serious Wanda.” You shake your head, not believing at all what you were hearing. “I’m over a decade older than you.” 
She tilts her head. “So?” A salacious smirk tugs her lips upward. “I think that makes you even hotter.”
“You--” You huff out a breath. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wanda. I think I’m going to get you some water because you’ve obviously had quite a bit to drink already.” 
But, before you’re able to even push up from the couch, Wanda’s hand grabs your wrist and tugs you closer. Noses almost smashing together, you’re only able to keep yourself steady by grabbing ahold of Wanda’s shoulder with your free hand. “I know exactly what I’m talking about,” she hisses, warm breath ghosting across your face. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you on Nat’s phone and it only grew the moment I saw you in person.” Her hand lightly traces down your face, almost reverently. “You’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen. No one could ever compare to you in my eyes.”
The sweets words, coupled by the earnest expression etched across her youthful face, causes your willpower to begin to falter. How long has it been since someone looked at you like that? Spoke to you in such a manner? Have you ever had that? The thought makes something twist within your gut. 
“You’re my daughter’s best friend,” you begin, trying to force some semblance of reality into this situation. Trying to make yourself see reason before you did what this was no doubt leading to. “We can’t do this, Wanda.” 
“We can do whatever the hell we want. We’re both adults, I’m not some child.” She tugs you closer, nuzzling her nose against yours. “And what I want to do is kiss you the way you’re supposed to be kissed.” 
A hitch in your breathing gives Wanda all the information she needs, and seals your fate completely, but, even with that go ahead, at the clear sign that you wanted her as much as she clearly wanted you, her lips still descended onto yours at a snail’s pace, giving you the opportunity to pull away. 
You didn’t want to. 
Didn’t want to have this moment be ruined by what could potentially come after. For the first time, in what felt like forever, you were going to put what you desired, what you wanted, before everything else. So, when Wanda’s lips finally did meet your own, and you’re able to faintly taste the cherry chap-stick she seemed so fond of, you give your all to the embrace. Mouth easily opening to her questing tongue, a small moan escaping from deep within your chest at the feel of it entangling with your own, and Wanda seems to press even closer. 
At this point you’re not even sure where you begin and Wanda ends, being pressed so closely together as you are. All you do know is that you never want this to end, never want to go a moment without Wanda’s warm hands trailing down your body, slender fingers digging slightly into your sides to pull you tightly against her, never want to be without the feelings she invokes within your chest-- the butterflies she causes within your stomach. 
With a small snarl, Wanda rips her mouth from yours, making you just barely stifle the noise of disappointment the action causes within you, but the darkened emerald eyes leveled with your own renders you temporarily mute. Wanda’s chest heaving in her effort to get enough air, but she doesn’t once stop running her hands down your body-- seemingly not being able to get enough of touching you. 
“I want to see you,” Wanda growls, hands gripping the material of your flimsy shirt and quickly pulling it over your head. Darkened green eyes taking in each inch of flesh that’s been revealed to her-- on any other circumstance you’d be mortified by the fervor in which she was looking at you, but underneath all that hunger, you could see a sense of awe, a spark of reverence, as if you had just made a wish of hers come true. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” Her head dips, pressing a hot kiss against your neck, tongue soothing the place her teeth had dug in. “I’m going to worship you, baby, I’m going to make everyone else before me feel obsolete.”
Your back arches on its own volition, pressing yourself further into the heated touch of the hand trailing down your abdomen. Burning kisses, that feel like they’d send the raging inferno coursing through your veins absolutely haywire, following the path her fingers had just traced-- sharp canines delicately nipping the flesh of your navel before her tongue sweeps over the flesh to soothe the mark that she had undoubtedly left behind. You’re barely aware of when Wanda had been capable of tugging your sweatpants down your leg, along with your panties, before tossing them in a random direction behind her, but you’re definitely honed in on the moment her tongue, that had just done such sinful things to your chest and stomach, made contact with the apex of your thighs. 
A breathy whine escapes you then, the feeling of Wanda’s tongue lapping at the wetness beginning to escape you, little hungry mewls escaping her throat, as if you were the most appetizing thing she had ever tasted, brings a whole new high to your pleasure-- something you had never felt before. Digging your fingers through her hair, tugging at the long strands to pull her impossibly closer, you’re rewarded by a breathy snarl, Wanda’s lips latching onto your clit and sucking it into her warm mouth-- slender fingers taking up residence where her tongue had just been, entering you hard and fast. Not giving you even a moment to get used to the new feelings before she’s pounding into you, the slender digits curling up just right to brush the spot within you. 
The sounds of your wetness, of the sloshing noises that Wanda’s fingers made every time she pulled out, would have normally made you embarrassed, and it probably would have, if Wanda hadn’t made sure to maintain eye contact with you throughout it all. Emerald eyes, blown almost black with lust, keenly observing every minute expression that flits across your face, tongue lashing across your clit in the precise moment that you needed her to, fingers scissoring inside of you the moment you felt your high coming that much closer. The simple fact that she already seemed to know your body so well, that she could already read your face, in a way that your ex-husband never could, makes the need to have her closer almost like a drug coursing through your veins. 
With the fingers still tangled in her hair, you tug her upwards. Seeming almost hesitant to leave, Wanda follows your wordless command after another thorough swipe of her tongue, her mouth latching onto your own the moment she’s within reach. And, the heady mix of yourself and something that’s inherently Wanda, fogs your brain, but you still have half the mind to wrap your arms around her back, arching more fully into her body-- needing to feel connected to her in some way. Moreso than you already were. 
Ripping her mouth away from your own, when air becomes a necessity, Wanda groans. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” Nimble fingers are quickly accompanied by a third. “Taking my fingers so well. Fuck you’re so tight for me, aren’t you?” 
You nod, a soundless scream escaping. The stretch, the feeling of being so full, and the warmth of Wanda’s breath across your ear, a combination you never knew you needed until now. The cliff, that you hadn’t been able to achieve by yourself, and rarely ever with your ex-husband, seems to be getting closer and closer; you were more than excited to finally take the plunge. 
“That’s right, baby,” Wanda coos, thrusting harder into you. “Just feel my fingers in your perfect cunt. He never fucked you like this, huh? Never treated with the roughness you’ve obviously wanted?”
Something in her voice, in the darkened tone, tells you that this line of questioning wouldn’t be as rhetorical as the first. “N-No--” A sharp whine is pulled from your lips. “Only you. Only you’ve fucked me the way I’ve wanted.”
A sharp grin pulls at Wanda’s lips, her free hand gripping your hip in a possessive hold. “And I’m only ever going to be the one to do it from this point forward.” Her head dips, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh right beneath your pulse point. “Isn’t that right, baby?” 
“Yes!” Your back arches, your incoming orgasm nearly blinding you. “I-I’m so close. I-I can’t--” 
Wanda rolls her hips, shushing you gently. “It’s alright, baby. You’ve done so good for me. Be my good girl and cum for me.”
At her command your body finally releases the final coil that had been prepared to spring forward, as if it had been waiting for her words all along, and a keening cry passes your lips-- Wanda-- as your world is whitened by your pleasure. Only vaguely aware of Wanda’s lips pressing repeatedly against your cheek, her fingers gently guiding you through. 
When you come down from your high, from the toe-curling pleasure that she had given you, and your vision clears enough for you to see Wanda, still hovering over you, with that same look of reverence on her face from before, you couldn’t help the almost shy smile that appears. Something that causes Wanda to dip forward to place a chaste kiss against the smile, so tender from the hungry ones that she had bestowed on you only a moment before. 
“How the fuck could he ever leave someone like you?” It’s said in a low voice, one that you don’t think you were supposed to her, but her clear confusion fills you with warmth, nonetheless. Emerald eyes raise to meet your own gaze, softness suffused within it. “Will you give me that honor, baby? The honor of making you forget.” 
Your earlier words, said in a mournful whisper, come back to you instantly: I wish I could find someone that’d treat me in the way he never did, that’d show me what love truly is, and make me forget about all that he’s put me through. 
“I’m over a decade older than you, Wanda,” you rebuke. “Why the hell would you want to be with someone like me?” 
Her brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I?” She lowers herself, finally pressing her body against yours, allowing you to feel the warmth of her skin, she places another gentle kiss to your lips. “You’re the only woman that’s ever made me feel like this. I don’t give a damn how old you are, I don’t give a damn if Natasha has an issue with it, I’ll talk to her, all I care about is that I get to have you like this again. That I get to love you in the way that you deserve to be.” Emerald eyes sharpen, her grip on your body tightening. “In a way that only I could ever give you.” 
Your eyes flutter shut at her words, something you’ve been wanting to hear for so long. Could you actually take this plunge? Allow yourself to take such a huge risk? Potentially cause a crisis with your daughter and Westview at large? What if it didn’t work out? 
What if it did? The gentle voice of your conscience counters. What if this is your chance at finally being happy? At finally finding the one person you’ve been searching for? Are you really going to let that pass you by? 
You didn’t know how this was going to turn out, how any of this would end up snowballing into years down the line, but as your eyes open and you peer into emerald green, a color that had enchanted you since you first looked upon it, you know your answer instantly-- have known it for longer than the question even being posed. 
“Yes.” 
Wanda’s answering smile, bright with her happiness, is all you see before she descends onto your mouth again, clearly wanting to show you everything that you’d now be experiencing from this point on. 
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writersblockedx · 10 months
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Dependency Problem
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Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - When you return to Cousins this year, you find that Conrad has picked up similar bad habits you once had. Warnings - Use of drugs and alcohol, good bit of angst, NO SPOILERS FOR S2 Words - 2.6k
A/n - Possible part two if people want? Let me know!
Masterlist
Every Summer was spent in Cousins. And every Summer, it was spent with the Fisher and Conklin clan. It was always refreshing, that slow drive back up to the house. The air was sprinkled with salt and the skies seemed always clear, a blue-painted ceiling that you could bathe in all day if you so pleased. But, the most important part of the drive was the reunion.
To see them little differences that had changed in everyone in between the last ten months. For Susannah, she had chopped a good bit of her hair off as her golden locks hung close to her shoulders. Laurel had started wearing less make-up, settling into a more comfortability with herself. Your mom had been the opposite, she was experimenting with makeup and style like she was a teen again; you blamed it on a midlife crisis. Belly had hit puberty, no longer plagued by a pair of glasses. Steven even more relaxed that he had been the year prior, and slightly taller. Jere's hair had grown, giving his curls the space to spiral over his forehead. And then there was Conrad - you noticed it instantly.
It was a familiar essence that was loitering over him. The unironed hoodie he had crowded his more lean figure into. His eyes were dragged down by the black bags, irritated with patches of red within the whites of his eyes. His posture was low, tired, aching. And his expression, while uplifted with a smile of welcome, was a facade. You caught it in a moment.
"Finally!" Jeremiah called as he rushed over to his friends, capturing Steven in a bro-hug first, then Belly and leaving you for last. "Good to have you back." He told you as his head sat on your shoulder before pulling away.
From there, you met Conrad's gaze.
You ignored the way your heart felt heavy. You weren't sure what had happened between now and when you had last said goodbye, but you felt far than enough sympathy. "Hi," You breathed, trying to not let out your surprise at the changes the boy had made.
He greeted you in reply with a, "It's good to see you." And took you into an embrace. It was loose and short-lived, leaving you desperate for more once he finally pulled away.
As the first day back went on, it soon all started coming out. Conrad had left football, barely sailed anymore and, as of this moment, wasn't doing anything at all. Compared to Steven and Jere who already had part-time jobs lined up. Something was wrong and you were beginning to wonder about would you could do. Such was confirmed after dinner came to an end. The boys rushed to play video games and Belly went upstairs to catch up with her friend, Taylor.
Which left you and the mums, clearing up the plates from the dining room table and taking them into the kitchen to be washed. For a moment, you stood alone at the kitchen sink while the others grabbed what was left at the table. And there, your eyes wandered to the window which looked upon the pool. There sat Conrad, legs dangling in the flickering water that reflected the moonlight. His eyes were down, his back facing you but even so you caught the cig he placed between his lips, lighting it and letting his lungs inhale the smoke.
It was there you felt that sympathy, that desperation with the lingering feeling of betrayal. The same exact thing Conrad had felt all of last Summer; it was a role reversal.
"He could really use you right now, you know?" That sweet voice almost made you jump.
A part of you felt flushed as you turned to face Susannah who was standing in the doorway; you'd just been caught staring at her son. "Hmm?" You resulted in responding.
The blonde let a smile grace her lips for a moment, "You two bring out the best in each other." She stated like the wise woman she was. "I think he could really use that right now."
You nodded in understanding, "I'll talk to him." That was a promise.
Once the table was cleaned up, the moms travelled towards the living room, wine glasses and blankets in hand. It hadn't taken them very long to get comfy as they switched the tv on. Though, it was made for only background noise, as their chatter rose above it. It left you with that nagging curiosity, the question that you hadn't stopped asking yourself since you had arrived: what had changed?
Before you could stop yourself, your feet were dragging you to the outside, where Conrad had thought nobody was watching. He didn't care enough to jolt when he heard the back door rattle open. Rather, he simply turned his head and huffed before looking back at the pool and the joint in his hand.
You didn't say anything. Not for at least two minutes as you occupied the space next to him, dipping your bare legs into the water below, almost close enough they could brush along Conrad's. "Theres about a hundred things I could repeat that you told me last year." You didn't look at him when you spoke, you didn't dare glance at the expression you were sure painted his face.
"But you're not going to?" He questioned, brows raised, plucking at his never-ending wonder when it came to the girl he had grown up beside.
You shrugged, swallowed the lump that was growing in your throat and finally looked over at the boy you had known since childhood. "What's the point?" You said, almost with a laugh you ended up suppressing. "You know it's not good, you know everything wrong with it. You're making the decision to do it anyway."
His expression was blank. It didn't seem as if there were many thoughts being processed. "Then what are you doing sat here?" There was a snap in his tone, a way to protect his bad habits from any helping hands.
The answer for you was simple: "Because I care for you, Conrad." As easy as that.
But such statement had prompted an incentive you hadn't meant it to. Rather than something thoughtful in reply, Conrad had started leaning in. You were too close and he was too fast for you to stop it. Within a moment, the sentiment you had just said had been cut off by the boy's lips as he met your own in a deep, yet rushed, kiss.
One hand reached his shoulder, tearing his lips from you. You breathed like you had been gasping for it and looked him in the eye. All that stared back at you was a regret that wasn't fading. "You're high." You reminded him.
"I didn't mean to-" Your other hand took the joint that was still caught between his fingertips. An action which made him shut up as he followed your hands quickly. "What are you-" Once in your grip, you chucked the substance into the pool, making it impossible to smoke again. "What the hell Y/n!"
When you stood, so did he. "Please, just go to bed." You advised him. Though, you highly doubted he would listen. You never did.
"You're not my mother!" His voice rose.
And you didn't step down, "No, but I'm sure she'd tell you the same thing." You took a breath to fight off the fury that was bubbling within the pit of your stomach. "If you can't go the rest of tonight without smoking the rest of that joint, then maybe accept you've got a dependency problem."
He scoffed as he took a step closer. "You can say all you want, I'll just call you what you are: Hypocrite." His tone was laced in more than just a snappy manner, now it was toxic, it wasn't a tone you ever saw Conrad use and it pained your heart to have it aimed at yourself.
You sucked up the tears that were brimming at your eyelids and made your last statement of the night, "What have you turned into?" You left him with that, turning your back before he could spit any more insults your way, making a B-line for your room again.
There, you let the tears fall. You wondered yourself, who had replaced the gentleman, sweet boy you once knew? You wondered if he was okay, if he would go back to normal? Truth being, you couldn't be sure. The year before, Conrad asked himself the same things. You had been just as angry, just as snappy, with a bad temper that could blow at any given moment. It was like living with weights on your back that tired you into a shell of a person until you felt utterly transparent in this world.
You didn't much talk to Conrad after that encounter. To be fair, Conrad hadn't really been talking to anyone other than the odd grunt if you were lucky. It wasn't until Belly's birthday when things got shaky again. This year, the birthday girl had taken the decision for everyone to go to Nicole's party. Nicole who also happened to be Conrad's not-girlfriend.
As much as you lied to yourself, being in her home felt wrong. Being on her territory knowing what Conrad had done two nights prior. The lingering ghost of his lips had never felt more prominent than right in that moment as you stepped foot into her house. You felt guilty being there. And not just because of the kiss, but because you had been yearning for Conrad to kiss you for a long time now. You just hated the fact such a big moment was ruined by the stench of weed on his mouth that soon caught onto your own.
Steven budged your shoulder, "You alright?" He asked, a sweet smile hanging from his lips, breaking you from the oblivious stare you had been making.
You nodded forcefully, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
Steven wasn't convinced but a feminine voice broke him from his concern, "Steven!" His head spun around and his lips twisted even further upright like a Cheshire cat.
"Shayla." And like that, the boy was gone.
With a sigh, you followed in Taylor's footsteps to get a drink. She filled herself a cup of some red beverage and then grabbed one for you too. She huffed and you watched as her eyebrows raised, "Well look how quickly we've been forgotten." You would have been annoyed if she hadn't been right. Belly had left her for Nicole as had Conrad left you for her too.
You raised your red solo cup, "Cheers to that." Your tone was flat but Taylor clinked your cup anyway.
You weren't sure what the night had planned, but you could tell something was brewing.
Three or four hours later, a good few drinks down (you had lost count) and you were on the hunt for another one. The night was still lively, music blaring through the house, struggling against the volume of eccentric, drunk teenagers. When you reached the kitchen, you became hungry for something that wasn't tequila and juice. Thinking the kitchen was empty, you waltzed in. Only then to find yourself face-to-face with the one person you were avoiding.
You came to an abrupt stop as your gaze clung to one another. He was leant against one of the counters, his own glass in his hand, so casual in his checkered shirt and wavy hair. A thousand pictures ran through your head. You almost became nervous that Conrad could see you replaying that kiss in your mind. It was all you had been able to think about all night with the booze and having him dancing around you all night.
It took resilience for you to tear your eyes from him as you continued around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for something that suited your tastes better. It took a minute of you shuffling through cereal boxes and plates before Conrad spoke up. "Top right." He nodded to the cupboard he was talking about and you dared to catch a glimpse of him.
You nodded and pushed yourself from the floor to your tip toes as you opened the cupboard. A selection faced you of liquors and beers. You took the bottle of your choice and poured it into your red solo cup. Conrad didn't let his eyes leave you. "You're not gonna say anything this time?" He pushed.
You thought about whether it was best to reply or whether he was just picking another argument. "Why? So you can yell at me?" You raised your brow at him, and let your hip fall to lean on the counter as you faced Conrad, a good three meters between the two of you. But you cut it short, taking a step as your eyes narrowed with your next words, "Or so you can kiss me again?"
As if he were scared of the very word, he stepped from the counter, "Don't-" His finger was lingering towards you as he bit down on his tongue.
"What? Scared your girlfriend's gonna overhear it?"
"She's not- my girlfriend." He almost couldn't say it. "I didn't mean to do that." Once again, you found you lied to yourself thinking you weren't hurt by that fact.
You swallowed that pain and looked him right in the eye, "I'm not gonna argue with you if that's what you want. But, if you ever just want to talk, you know where I am."
You stared at him, waiting, willing, for him to say something. To do as you had offered and talk to you like a human being, to open up about whatever was driving him to make all these reckless decisions. The moment fell and you realised he wasn't going to say anything. You accepted it and went to leave, "Okay, I'll see you around Conrad." Said so disinterested.
You were almost out the door when his voice stopped you again, "Wait." It was hesitant but, somehow it was sure it was the right decision to make. When you met his eyes, they were like a child's. Somehow filled once more with innocence, but mostly, desperation. "I don't wanna talk, I just-" His gaze flickered to the floor for a second. "I just want you to be there...please." This time, he was the one on the edge of tears.
Once that left his mouth, you were in front of him, taking him into your embrace. He had never hung on so tightly to you like he didn't dare let go like you were keeping him afloat. Partway through the hug, you heard him sniffle, causing you to rub his back. "It's okay," You soothed. "It's okay."
"Conrad?" The voice cut through your's and Conrad's bubble like a blade.
You spilt from one another, turning to the doorway to find Nicole standing there. There was a familiar look on her face; the same one you had been wearing all night. You could only imagine what she must have been thinking.
Nicole left, taking half the girls with her. And, not long after, so did you and Conrad. Maybe you were drunk and he was drunk, or high, or both, but it didn't matter. He had let that shell open only slightly and because he had asked for you to be there, you would be. That night, you found yourself in his bed, soothing him as he fell asleep in the crook of your neck. It pained you to see him with the same habits you had once plagued yourself with. And, as tonight had shown, it had only gained him consequences. Ones of which you would worry about another day. For now, you would be there for him.
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peachesofteal · 2 months
Text
John Price/female reader The Ocean anthology
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The girl is here.
You’re tucked in a corner booth, rigid against old cedar slats, brown bottle and half peeled beer label crinkled between your fingers. The yellow track lighting casts a dubious shadow across your face, faint flicker of unease painted through your brow.
Your lips touch the rim. John’s stomach pitches.
You look up. He pretends you don’t. Perches on the stool, empty one of many, and waits for his usual. Rocks whiskey. Amber syrup, a cold burn.
One like he feels now, when he catches a local giving you a once, twice over.
You’re a grown woman. Grown women go to bars.
“Saw Aly made a friend the other day.” The bartender is lighthearted, but the comment doesn’t land, just floats aimlessly in the stale air, floundering.
“Yeah.” This is more than curiosity, this interest the town has expressed in you. More than good natured, or ill natured, interest. It’s sinister. It’s calculating. It makes him want to lock you away, hide you from the eyes of this place, the ones watching from the dark, the depths, the pale orange windows lining the street.
“The conservation effort pays for the ranger position, you know.” Mari clips at his left elbow. “Wouldn’t kill you to be nice to her.” It might.
She’s not wrong. He glances at your empty bottle and wandering eyes, and then with a sigh, orders one with a second pour for himself.
John doesn’t meander. He walks with purpose. It’s a learned technique from his past, straight and purposeful. A captain’s walk. Still proud, still able. Still carrying the echo of gunfire, shouts of dying men, well laid plans gone to waste.
He wants to walk right out the door, pull his hat down around his ears, tuck his chin and take himself home.
But then he’d be awake. Listening. Waiting for the sound of your door opening and closing, your feet heavy on the staircase.
Silent watching. Too afraid to go close. Unable to bring himself to gentle a wild thing, again. He’d dig his fingers into your flesh, rip apart these pieces singing to him, the ones carrying an unnatural tune, a siren song trying to drag him into frigid waters.
He’d dig and dig until he’s made a new home. Until he’s hollowed you out, turned you in on yourself. Until he’s lost where he ends and begins, lost the feeling of the most sacred pieces of his heart, the ones already slipping through his fingers.
He burns with a desire to consume you. Pick you apart. See what makes your wild heart tick. You’re like the sea, he already knows. A wild thing, in a wild place, with a wild passion. An interest so feral it’d kill you.
It might.
So when he appears at the end of the table, peace offering in hand, he doesn’t expect a smile or a gesture. He expects what he gets: a confused glance and then, a hot streak dancing in your eyes, willful as the tides. Amphitrite herself.
He hates you for it. Hates how much the burn has blossomed. Hates how you smile at him in the mornings, even though he’s only ever given you frosty, grim half smiles and frowns.
You’re willful. He’d bring you to heel, do to you what was done to him, bend body and soul, and then you’d never leave this place.
“Hi.”
“Can I sit?” He motions, and you chew the inside of your cheek before nodding.
“Please.”
“Can I ask you about the wolves?” No. Ask about anything, but the wolves.
“What about them?”
“Thought I heard them, the other night when I was out.” His spine snaps straight to attention, liquid fire sticking to his stomach like tar. It settles there, in this uncomfortable space he’s built out for you, for all the pieces he’s trying to jam up and away.
“Out where?” A sheepish look crosses your face.
“I went for a walk.”
“Thought I told you not to walk alone at night.” It’s a grand assumption, you being alone. Grand assumption that any one of these starved boys hasn’t picked you up already, hasn’t already tried to make you theirs, to pin you under their body in a bed and give you pieces of themselves.
“I wanted to look at the stars.” It’s a simple answer, but makes the blood hot under his coat. He wonders how much you like the word no, or if anyone has laid you across their knee and spanked you raw before. His hands itch just thinking about it.
He’d do it. He’d lick your tears afterwards too, brine fresh on his tongue. Sweeter than sugar. His crying girl, bent and broken beneath his palms.
There’s a buzzing in the back of his head, a whine. High pitched and unbearable, like the sound Aly’s cries. It’s PTSD, or hearing loss, or tinnitus, something lingering past retirement, sharp and lurking in wait.
“The pack comes close to town. Often.”
“How big?”
“Eleven. Used to be twelve but…” he peters off, hand rubbing down his face. Not too much. “If you’re ever out around the house, or town, and they get too close. You run. Don’t freeze. Run.” He must instill this in you. This chance at survival. Running will make you prey, certainly, but if you’re close enough to town, they’ll peel off.
They know better.
“And if I’m not around the house? Or town?”
“Don’t be.”
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seungmoonandstars · 5 months
Text
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
Kim Seungmin/female reader
requested by hydratedhydro!
wc: 1k
rating: fluff (Seungmin wants to have your babies)
Seungmin ran off and left you to fend for yourself at this birthday party. It’s only been a five minutes, but still—all you can do now is sit awkwardly and wait for him to return.
-
It’s a little crowded. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad: more people means less attention directed toward you. Less people, well, they might notice you sitting here.
You don’t even really know anyone here. Everyone you do know well enough is with Seungmin right now.
A few moments later, you relax. You see him appear across the room, but he’s not breaking away. In fact, he and IN all together seem perfectly comfortable with the conversation they’ve kicked up. Or they were pulled into.
You narrow your eyes at him and hope he can feel it, but he doesn’t even glance your way.
“Hello!”
You don’t pay attention at first. It’s an unfamiliar voice, and why would anyone be talking to you anyway?
“May we sit here?”
Now you break free of your trance and look to your left. You don’t recognize her, but a young woman is standing over you. Her face is sweet and her arms are very, very full.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”
You stupidly set your bag and phone on the seat next to you, so you snatch it up and make her more space.
“I saw you come in with Seungmin, are you two good friends?”
Your face heats up and you hesitate for a brief moment, “yes, we are good friends.”
“I knew him when he was just a kid. He’s grown up so much.”
You’re listening to her, but your attention is on the baby she’s carrying now. She’s young, just a few months old. Her eyes are open and searching the space in front of her.
“This is Haneul.” Her mother says and moves the blanket from around her face. “This is her first time at a party, but I’m not sure how she likes it yet.
“She seems content.”
“You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Where did your date run off to?”
———
Seungmin has his back to you. He hasn’t forgotten you’re sitting back there alone, but the conversation they’ve gotten into has been difficult to get out of.
He turns his head and scans the room, casually, until his eyes land on you. He’s relieved to see you speaking to someone else besides him. The entire night has been spent worrying about whether or not you’ll have any fun at all. He knows you prefer being alone with him.
For a moment, he turns away, but IN has been staring along with you, and he hasn’t stopped.
“Does she like babies?” He smiles and nudges Seungmin.
“I’m not sure…,” he looks your way, and right at that moment, the little one is carefully handed off to you. “We haven’t talked about it.” He feels a little drop in his stomach. Seungmin wants kids, but having them anytime soon is not really in his plan.
The sight of you is giving him second thoughts, though.
IN giggles, “I think she does.”
———
You stand with her when she starts to fuss, and that does the trick. Haneul likes to be walked around, like most babies do, so you do a few laps back and forth near your seat, just until she settles again.
You’ve visited the daycare floor a few times at work. Very rarely. You like it up there, though. You’re making a mental note to visit more often.
When you glance in the direction of Seungmin, you see him watching you. He smiles, but doesn’t move. You smile and try to pull him back with your eyes, but it doesn’t work. He’s looks back at his group every so often, because they keep pulling him back in, but you’re pretty sure you have most of his attention now. He just doesn’t want to be rude.
IN is leaning to talk to him, nudging him a little further away each time. You appreciate it, and you’ll have to remember to thank him for that.
———
He still can’t get away, but he hopes you know that he’s trying.
When the conversation finally seems to slow down, and IN successfully pushes him an awkward distance away, Seungmin excuses himself. And just when he turns to face you again, you’re handing the baby back to her mother.
It takes a moment, though, because you’re still talking to her—your finger is clenched in her tiny hand. You’re not ready to give her up yet, but you know you have to.
Seungmin sees her let go when he’s halfway to you. You can tell he’s pouting a little as he gets closer and closer.
For a moment you just stand there and look at each other.
“You missed the baby,” you reach to touch his wrist, and he grabs your hand.
“I saw you, though.” Seungmin leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “That was good enough.”
“She was very cute.”
“As cute as our babies?” He pulls you close to say it softly, but he’s still not sure if the sweet moment with the baby was just you being friendly. Maybe that was too much.
He says it like it’s the most normal, casual comment of the night. You know he likes and wants kids, he just doesn’t know that you know about that part of him. But you have ways of finding out. What catches you off guard is that, yes, he wants them with you. It might be the most serious thing he’s ever said to you, regarding your relationship. He doesn’t open up very much.
“No, not that cute.” You wonder if he notices how shaky your voice is now.
Mhmm his lips move softly across your ear. “So, you do—?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want…someday.”
“Someday?”
“Hopefully.”
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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months
Text
Girl of Your Dreams || Part 1
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!
Summary: Daryl's annoying female sidekick is pestering him.
18+ MDNI: WARNINGS: injury, aggressive Shane, profanity
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        You were no stranger to pain. The world had been unfair to you from the time you entered it, but this was a whole new level of torture. You had survived the wake of the apocalypse with your only friend, but when you encountered a group of those undead fucks, she didn't make it, and you were left to run for your life all on your own. You were fairly certain you lost the hungry corpses some time ago, but now you had a new dilemma: how to free yourself from a bear trap?
        The metal dug into your flesh and crushed the bone beneath. You was beyond painful. You were shocked your cries didn't draw anything in to eat you, but you were ultimately alone until he came along. Wit the sleeves torn off a flannel shirt and a crossbow slung over his shoulder, he'd left the camp by the quarry that day to find some food, hopefully enough to feed everyone but chances of that were slim.
        "Ya bit?" Was the first thing he asked, with that raspy voice you would come to find comfort in. 
        "Gee, I'm fine. Doesn't hurt at all. Thanks for asking." You shot back. A woman of sarcasm, something he could appreciate.
        "Show me ya ain't bit and I'll get that thing off ya." He shrugged. You sighed.
        "Not bit." You said, holding your bare arms up, showing him the sides of your neck, and finally lifting your shirt to show him a bite-free midriff. He nodded and knelt down on one knee, setting his bow to the side so he could properly dismantle the trap. You winced and sighed in relief at the release of pressure from your ankle. "Thanks." You breathed, pulling up the leg of your jeans to take a good look.
        The bruising had already begun, and the flesh was chewed to bits. You went to stand but failed. The pressure on your ankle was too much.
        "Great." You grumbled. "Real fuckin' nice."
        "C'mere." He said, standing up now as he held his hand out to you. You took it, seeing little other options. Unless, of course, you wanted to wait for the next flesh-starved freak to come stumbling through.
        "Thanks again." You grunted as you pulled yourself up. You managed to stand on one foot, but there was no way you could walk without aide. 
        "C'mon. Got a camp not too far from here." He told you. And there it was, the beginning. Of course the other campers didn't take so kindly to a new mouth to feed, especially one that could barely walk, but Daryl made sure you had your place, and that earned your respect. It also earned your kindness, which was hard to come by for anyone. You weren't the friendly type, more of the shut-up-and-don't-breathe-in-my-space type. Shane, most of all, was your least favorite. The whole self-proclaimed leader thing got under your skin fast, and he was the first to voice his concerns about your presence among the others. After all, he had a girl and a kid to look out for, which you'd come to find out later weren't even his, but his best friend's, who he told them was dead. He wasn't, though, and he showed up a couple weeks later. Glenn and the others brought him back instead of Merle, Daryl's brother.
        Daryl was outraged to say the least, and when they went back for his kin, they only found a hand where he should have been. Walkers attacked camp the that night, when Daryl and the others were in the city, and you only fucked up your ankle more fighting the sons of bitches off. Still, you prevailed. You always did. You were a survivor. 
        In the following weeks, between burning and burying bodies, finding and escaping the CDC, and getting stranded on the highway only to wind up on a farm, you and Daryl had grown pretty close. You comforted him with your silent presence as he coped with the loss of his brother, and once you could walk again you aided in a lot of the search for Sophia. 
        You went with him on a particularly hot day, carrying the extra water for the two of you, telling him all about how you couldn't take anymore of Shane's pestering. Apparently now that Lori had pushed him away for Rick, he had taken up a newfound fondness of you and your smart mouth. 
        "It's like -- I tell the guy to fuck off and his heart eyes grow bigger." You complained. Scoffed a little laugh and shook his head. Not necessarily interested in your drama, but curious nonetheless. Any excuse to tell Shane off would've been a green light to him. You continued. "You know yesterday he tried to come in my tent when I was asleep?"
        Daryl stopped walking and eyed you intently, waiting for more.
        "Yeah, dude. I was asleep when it happened. Woke up to him running his hand up my thigh. So, if you notice any dark coloration around his eye, it's cause I kicked him. In the eye." You explained. 
        Daryl chewed on his lip and continued walking. You handed him some water to drink as you sipped some yourself. After pushing a little further he sighed.
        "Let's take a break an' eat somethin'." He suggested. You happily obliged, sitting crisscross on the forest floor, unwrapping a napkin with some nuts and dried fruit for the two of you to share.
        "He didn't hurt ya or nothin'?" He asked. You shrugged.
        "If he did, I promise he'd have gotten more than a foot in his eye."
        "Mm." He nodded. "You know I'd kill him, if he did."
        "Awe, are you sweet on me Dixon?" You teased, grinning as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He glared at you.
        "Ain't sweet on no one." He grumbled.
        "Except me." 
        "Shut up."
        "It's okay. I know you put that trap out to catch a girl like me. Lucky for you, I was dumb enough to step in it." You gloated. He got so flustered when you joked like that, but you enjoyed it. As gruff as he was, he was the shy type which made him all the more attractive. You loved a good mystery.
        "Nah, I placed that trap out lookin' for the woman of my dreams an' got stuck with you." He joked. You gasped, mocking an appalled expression.
        "You mean, I'm not the woman you always dreamed of?"
        Actually, you kind of were, now that he thought about it. He'd need a woman that could handle his brother, and in the short time  you spent with the man you handled him quite well. He needed a woman who didn't need to be coddled, a woman with a sharp tongue and an independent nature. Someone who didn't need him, who only kept him around because she liked him. You did check all those boxes.
        "You first." He grunted.
        "Me first what? Are you asking if you're the man of my dreams?" You asked. He shrugged, picking at the last of the food in his hands. "Well, I never dreamed of a man, to be honest. Just figured I'd find one, one day, that didn't get on my every last nerve."
        "Did you?" He wondered.
        "Nope." You laughed. "They all pissed me off. Except you. You're alright, I guess." You shrugged.
        "Guess you ain't so bad." He returned the compliment, if you could call it that. You smiled sweetly, staring down at the crunchy brown leaves.
        "Not bad at all, for someone you got stuck with." You said.
        "Stuck? Nah. I'd have got rid of ya by now if I didn't want ya around."
        "So you do like me."
        "Didn't say that."
        "Mmm. Ya kinda did." You pushed.
        "What if I do? Don't change nothin'." 
        "Nope. It doesn't." You chirped, before leaning in close to him and whispering; "'Cause I already knew ya did." 
        He sighed and pushed you away, you chuckling in the process.
        "Were you always this annoyin'?" He asked.
        "Yes, indeed. I'm vexing by nature. Is that a deal breaker?"
        "Depends how long it takes you to shut up."
        "Oof." You winced. "That was cold."
        "Please. You ain't that soft."
        "Only for you, Darlina." You said. Normally he'd snap at anyone who called him that. Only Merle ever got away with it and that was mostly just due to the fact he had no energy to argue with Merle. Getting a reaction out of him would have only pushed Merle to say it more, anyways.
        "You keep pushin' your luck, girl, and we're gonna have problems."
        "Oh?" You raised your brows. "Do tell."
        "Won't have to. I'll just show ya. Keep  tryin' me and find out."
        "Was that a threat? 'Cause I'll be honest with ya, you're just getting me excited."
        He shot you a sideways glance, smirking a little at the suggestiveness of your comment. This girl ain't got no idea what she's gettin' into, he thought.
        That night at camp, when Shane found you alone, adding your clothes form the day to the dirty laundry, Daryl was watching from afar.
        "Maybe you can talk some sense into everybody." He began. "You've been out there with him. You can tell them there haven't been any leads. We're wasting resources and manpower, here."
        "Sure! I'll do that!" You said with sickeningly sweet sarcasm oozing from your tongue. The prideful officer clenched his jaw tightly at your act of disrespect. "Only, I won't, because we've found two leads already." 
        "Oh, right, a doll he almost died for and a blanket in a cupboard." He scoffed. "What is it with you and him, huh? You out there fuckin'? Or do you really just enjoy wasting everyone's time and supplies."
        "Everyone?  Last I checked, it's just been me and him out there the last few days. Nobody else. And, even if we were fucking, it'd be none of your concern." You spat, stabbing your finger into his chest with malice. He gripped your wrist as you did so, hard, might you add. Tight enough that it actually hurt. You tried to yank you arm away to no avail. You were strong, but he was stronger.
        "Let me go, asshole." You said through gritted teeth. He didn't. Instead he held you still and leaned his face close to yours.
        "Let me make somethin' real clear to you, little girl--"
        "There a problem?" Daryl asked, suddenly appearing behind Shane.
        Shane grinded his teeth together, a blazing glare burning into you for only a second before he let go of your wrist and turned to Daryl. You held your wrist to your body, rubbing it.
        "Nah. No problem." Shane said lowly before he stormed away, maintaining eye contact with Daryl for some time as he did so. When Shane was far enough for comfort, Daryl stepped over from you and grabbed your hand, looking over your wrist. It was still white with Shane's finger prints and he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised later.
        "You alright?" He asked, letting your hand fall back down.
        "Yeah." You nodded, watching as Shane disappeared into the darkness. "Thanks."
        "C'mon." He told you, throwing his arm over your shoulder and leading you toward his own tent. "You're stayin' with me in case he tries anythin'."
        "A sleepover? So soon? No dinner  first?" You joked.
        "Shut up." He said, holding his tent open for you to climb in. When you were inside, he followed, and made sure you had a place to get comfy. "This alright?" He asked, referring to his sleeping bag that he had completely unzipped and laid out flat like a palette. 
        "Perfect." You smiled, laying down on one side. He laid down on the other side, on his back. You were on your side, facing him, still rubbing your wrist. He took notice.
        "Still hurt?" He asked.
        "No, actually. It's just weird. I can still feel his hand around me, you know?"
        "Well he won't get ahold of ya in here." He told you. You smirked. 
        "I know."
        "You know?"
        "Uh-huh." You nodded, smugly. "'Cause you wont let anything happen to the girl of your dreams."
        He scoffed, laughing silently to himself as he shook his head, eyes on the ceiling of the tent.
        "Whatever, (Y/N). G'night."
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Text
AFS: Deleted Scene
Din Djarin x Female!Reader
Warnings: Nightmares from PTSD, accidental injury, blood, angst and comfort
Word Count: 2,873
Summary: A night on the town is interrupted by a night terror. [aka someone told me I should write a scene where Grogu has a nightmare and cries out for the reader and I went WAY overboard lol.]
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#9.5: MA'S GOT YOU
.
The house was quiet and as Din sat on his couch, holopad in hand and helmet off, he realized this had been his existence prior to your arrival. Grogu was down for bed and Din was alone. It’s not that he minded time alone. He craved it, really. There was only so much social interaction he could manage before he needed time to himself. It wasn’t a fault to the friends he kept, it was simply how he was built. Which is why it spoke volumes that Din wished you were here.
It was your presence he missed. It’s not like he needed you around him at all times of the day. Din was positive you needed your space away from him and others as well, but he just liked the energy you seemed to carry with you. Din wanted to be alone⏤ together. Both doing separate things, enjoying your own time, but in the same vicinity. He just wanted to know you were near and he still hadn’t decided if that was pathetically clingy of him or not. Din never felt like that before with a grown person so it was hard to find a comparison. 
Tonight was his night off of call and you were out with Nima. Din was happy that you agreed to spend time with your not cousin because he didn’t want you to think you couldn’t have a life separate from him. The thought that you might eventually resent him and feel trapped was terrifying. No, he wanted you to live your life as you normally would.
On your way out, you had told him not to wait up for you, but Din was currently perched on his couch in his pajamas doing exactly that. He’d never admit it to you. When you did find your way home he would feign surprise and act like he had been too caught up in reading to realize the time. Din just wanted to make sure you got home safe. It’s not that he didn’t trust you⏤ you were a grown and responsible woman. It’s the rest of the world, Din didn’t trust. Old habits, die hard, he supposed.
His eyes scanned a few more lines of the story he had chosen only to stop when a very quiet, whimper drifted through the air. Din had left his bedroom door open while Grogu slept. He set the holopad aside and padded across the living room toward the hall's entrance. Another familiar whimper followed by a pained cry and Din was sprinting. When he got to his room, Grogu was thrashing in his hammock and every item in the room, save for the large pieces of furniture, were hovering in the air. A side effect Din hadn’t seen since Grogu’s last nightmare ages ago.
“Ad’ika! Gar cuyir morut'yc!” Din cried, but if Grogu heard him it did nothing to ease the child’s mind. He crossed the room, but the moment his hand reached out to grasp the boy a wall of energy body slammed him back. Din fell over the corner of his bed and landed roughly on his back with a grunt. He recovered quickly, rolling to his feet, and tried again. Three times. Din got blown back three more times. One of which he felt the back of his head crack against his bed frame, momentarily making his world spin, before he got through to Grogu. His hands wrapped around the crying boy, pulling him from the hammock into his chest, and cocooned him between his arms while murmuring reassurances. 
There is nothing to fear.
You are safe.
I am here.
Eventually, in a sharp hiccup, Grogu’s cries stopped and his eyes snapped wide open. All the objects in the air clattered to the ground leaving the room looking as if a storm had blown through. Din cradled the back of his son’s head as he swayed in a slight rocking motion.
“Buir, safe?” Grogu whimpered as he reached his hand up.
Din leaned closer so Grogu could find the comfort he needed in touching his cheeks and jaw. He nodded. “I’m safe. You’re safe.”
“Ma, safe?” Grogu whimpered again and tried to crawl out of Din’s arms to look around the room. “Ma!” He yelled and when he wasn’t immediately answered the boy began to cry again. “Ma!”
“She’s safe, Grogu.” Din rubbed his back. “I swear, she’s safe. You had a nightmare. Ma is okay.”
This did not appease the boy who began to howl and scream in a panic. Din tried to explain that you weren’t here right now, but you’d be back. You were just spending time with Nima. However, Grogu who was still trapped in a post-nightmare daze was not having it. He wanted⏤ No, needed to see you. Make sure you were safe with his own eyes. Din could understand the sentiment, but it didn’t make the situation any easier. 
After a minute more of his son suffering, Din caved and grabbed his communicator. Maybe if Grogu could just hear your voice. He dialed your frequency number and when you picked up neither of you could even usher out a greeting with Grogu’s cries.
“Grogu??” You asked, your own voice panicked, “Mando⏤”
“He had a nightmare and he’s asking about you. I’m so sorry. I⏤”
“I’m on my way.” You blurted with no further preamble. 
The communicator line went dead and Din went back to fruitlessly trying to calm Grogu down. He drifted out to the living room to find his helmet so you’d be able to come in without concern. Din winced as it locked in place and the pressure at the back of his head reminded him that he had taken quite the hit earlier. Din wasn’t quite sure how you pulled it off, but five minutes after the call you were bursting through the front door.
“Grogu?”
“Ma!” Grogu was a blubbering mess when you stepped into view, and he nearly leapt from Din’s arms to yours. In the same way Din had cradled Grogu to his chest earlier, you held him close to you. Grogu was hiccuping as his hands roamed your features. “Ma, safe?”
“Yes, baby boy.” You smiled down at him. “I’m safe. I promise. Everything is okay.”
Grogu shifted to bury his face in your neck and you rubbed his back. Din felt his entire body slump with relief. The last time Grogu had a nightmare was back when they had first moved into this house. Since living here, they had slowed until they eventually came to a stop. Din wondered what brought this on. He watched you, hypnotized, as you hummed under your breath and swayed until Grogu’s whimpered breaths turned even. Din could garner a guess. He’d be a liar if he said the thought of losing you hadn’t slipped into his own night terrors. You were new in their lives, your importance increasing by the day, and there was no love without fear. It was the price to pay for a connection. 
“We can try to set him down now that he’s calm.” Din whispered. If he could get Grogu settled again then maybe you could get back to your night out. He hated that he interrupted it.
You gave him a small nod, and Din turned to lead the way back to the bedroom. However, as soon as he turned he heard you gasp loudly, “Fuck, Mando!” He whirled back around⏤ panicked. Was Grogu alright? He hadn’t heard you cuss like that in such a sharp and worried tone. Din rushed forward and settled a hand on Grogu’s back and the other on your elbow. You shook your head and shoved him back a step before spinning him around. “You’re bleeding!”
Din breathed out a sigh of relief. You were fine. Grogu was fine. It was just his head trauma that startled you. He chuckled. “It’s fine. Hurts some but⏤”
“The back of your shirt is covered in blood, you psycho! Don’t tell me it’s fine!” Din reached back and touched his shirt. It had felt damp, but he assumed it was wet with his sweat. When he pulled his hand back his fingers shone with red. Oops. “Go. As soon as I get Grogu down, I can⏤”
“No.” Din said quickly. Your eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly held a hand up in argument. “I’ll dress it. It’s not bad. I don’t even have a headache.” That was a lie. He could definitely feel the beginnings of a possible concussion, but he wasn’t about to admit that to you. “Head wounds just bleed a lot. Take care of Grogu. Please.”
You didn’t immediately reply. He watched you chew on your lower lip in thought, and it wasn’t until Grogu softly whimpered that you gave in. You sighed, giving him a hardened look, before nodding once. This time Din motioned you to walk first so you wouldn’t have to stare at his bloody shirt. He let his hand linger on your back as the three of you made your way towards the bedrooms. Din followed you in, mostly to grab a spare shirt, and he paused on his way out just so he could watch you rock Grogu while whispering words of comfort to the boy. It wasn’t until you glanced his way with a light glare that he realized he was transfixed.
“Please go patch up your broken head.” You hissed.
Din chuckled and slipped away.
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It had been a struggle to change out of your day clothes into something more comfortable because Grogu refused to let you set him down to do so. You had dressed up to go out with Nima, and more than anything you just wanted to be in comfy clothes. Somehow you managed it, and you drifted back to Mando’s room. You didn’t know what startled you more: getting a call from Mando and hearing Grogu’s hysteric cries or watching the man turn his back to you and seeing his white shirt stained with blood. Both had been jarring and it hadn’t been where you thought your night on the town would end. Still, you didn’t quite mind. Nima had you meeting new people tonight and it had been kind of exhausting.
You tried to set the sleeping boy back into his hammock, but the second you pulled him from your chest he whined until you hugged him again. You turned your head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his with a small smile, “You’re okay, baby. Ma’s got you.”
You wondered what kind of Maker awful nightmare the boy could have had that scared him so badly. Mando had mentioned the kid had nightmares in the past, but this was the first time you had been witness to one. As you bounced him lightly, keeping yourself moving while patting his back, you glanced around the room in surprise. It was a disaster. Mando was shockingly neat and organized, and you had never seen his room in such disarray. Even his armor was scattered about instead of carefully placed where he usually kept it.
“What happened here?” You thought aloud. You wondered if it had anything to do with the injury Mando sustained. As if willed by your thought alone, Mando breezed into the room. He had changed shirts and the new one he wore had long sleeves. For a second, you mourned the loss of being able to see his arms then reminded yourself you should not be drooling over the sight of him. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Mando walked closer so he could stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow. “That it?”
Mando chuckled. “I fell. Hit my head, and there was a little gash. Sprayed it with bacta and it’s fine.”
“It doesn’t need stitches?” You pressed. He shook his head. “Are you sure, though?”
“I’m positive. How’s he?”
“Won’t let me set him down.” You replied. “What even… What happened, Mando?”
Apparently this was just as his other night terrors had been. When they came, it was always hard to wake Grogu from them and the Force seemed to bubble around him in self defense. That was why his room looked like a bomb had gone off and how he ended up with a gash at the back of his head.
“Poor baby.” You sighed.
Mando tilted his head at you. “Are you referring to me or the kid?”
“The kid.” You laughed. “I’d give you a ‘poor baby’ too, but apparently you’re fine.” Mando let out that breathy, chuckle that always seemed to send a thrill up your spine. “Is he gonna be okay, you think?”
Mando reached out and rubbed the back of Grogu’s head. “Yeah. He’s tough. Resilient. I just hate that he went through so much in his life.” There was a beat of silence where the two of you just listened to Grogu’s quiet snores. “Hey.” Mando’s voice sounded startled. “What are you wearing?”
“Pajamas?” You glanced down at yourself.
“Where did your… Aren’t you going to go back out?”
“Probably not.”
Mando sighed, his shoulders drooping, “Cyar’ika, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“You didn’t ruin my night.” You scoffed with a chuckle. “Grogu needed me.” You rolled your eyes. “Besides, I think Nima was trying to find me a date and I wasn’t really too interested in that.”
Mando crossed his arms and bobbed his head. “You, uh, you aren’t? Interested in… in dating?”
“Are you interested?” You asked in return, but panicked as the words left you. “Not in⏤ Not in me. I meant, like, interested in dating in general. With anyone.” Unable to stop the flow of words, you kept going. “I just… If you needed me to babysit so you could go on a date. Not that⏤ Not that it would even be considered babysitting because I’m the nanny. Yeah.”
Mando shook his head, that same breathy laugh making your face warm, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You turned to see if you could get Grogu into his hammock partly because your arms were tired but also because it gave you an excuse to hide your burning face. Same as before, the second he was separated from you he began to fuss.
“Here.” Mando motioned toward you with his hands. “Let me see if I can take him.”
Grogu seemed to recognize his father’s hands and shifted to Mando, but he had only settled for a second before realizing he had been moved away from you. Grogu sat up and spun to look for you. When his eyes landed on you, he cried out a mumbled ‘Ma’ and you let out a soft laugh before opening your arms to him again. He fell into your chest and Mando sighed.
“Maybe he’ll…” You cleared your throat. “Can I sit on your bed, or…?”
“Lay down.” He corrected you with a shake of his head. “Get comfortable.”
You hesitantly drifted over to his bed and crawled into the same spot you slept in the last time you fell asleep beside him. Last time, you had been groggy and tired and had fallen into sleep without thought, but you felt wide awake now. You shifted so you could lay Grogu down on his belly, but when he began to fuss you draped your arm over him to let you know you were still here. That seemed to settle him.
Mando nodded toward the door. “You should stay here. I can take your bed or the, uh, the couch.”
You furrowed your brow. “No.” He stiffened and you blamed the few drinks you had for your lack of self control when it came to speaking. “I just mean, you can stay here. It’s your bed. The bed is big enough, right? That’s what you told me last time.”
“I suppose I did.” Mando chuckled.
He carefully sat down on the other side of the bed and drew up the blankets so it covered the three of you. Mando laid on his side, holding his head up in his hand, while his other settled on Grogu’s back right below yours.
“Shoot.” You whispered. “Your helmet? It’d be better for you to sleep with it off considering you’re injured.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“When Grogu is sleeping more soundly I can leave⏤”
“I said,” Mando emphasized his words, “Don’t worry about it, cyar’ika.”
“You’re stubborn, you know that?”
“That’s funny coming from you of all people.”
Your lips curled up in a smile and the silence that settled around the two of you was warm and comfortable. Before you knew it, sleep crept up on you.
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Din felt settled.
Grogu was safe. You were safe. He was safe. More than just safe, he had the two of you within arm’s reach which he realized was exactly where Din always wanted both of you to be. Cautiously, nervous to wake you up on accident, Din lifted his hand from where it was on Grogu’s back and set it on top of yours. A little sigh slipped from your lips and mingled with the sounds of Grogu’s soft snores. Din smiled to himself.
Everyone was home and safe.
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mando'a translations:
Ad’ika: little one
Gar cuyir morut'y: You're safe
Cyar'ika: Sweetheart, Darling
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