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the-little-ewok · 1 year ago

Text

An Unorthodox Method

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Rating : 18+/E

Word count : 7600 (ish)

Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.

Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.

@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.

Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘

~~~~~~~~~

The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.

"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.

You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.

Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.

For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.

Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.

"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.

You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.

"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.

"Just sick of listening to you."

Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.

"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.

You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.

"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.

Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.

Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.

"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.

You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.

"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."

He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."

"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"

"Then you can take them back."

"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.

You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.

"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.

"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."

The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.

The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.

"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.

"That must hurt."

"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.

"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."

The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.

"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."

You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.

"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?

"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.

"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.

Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.

"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."

Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."

Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.

"Oh my favourite kind!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.

"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.

"I will if you admit it."

"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?

"That you've thought about us."

"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.

"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.

"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.

You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.

"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.

The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.

"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.

You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.

Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.

Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.

Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.

You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…

Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.

"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.

"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"

Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.

Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!

"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.

"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.

"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.

"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.

You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.

"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."

"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.

Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.

"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."

Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.

"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."

You can't help but snort with laughter at that.

"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."

"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.

"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.

When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."

It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.

Guilt twists hard in your stomach.

How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.

Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.

"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.

His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.

"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."

"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.

The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.

You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.

"Poe?"

The response is instant, "Yeah?"

You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.

"Every day," you whisper quietly.

"Huh?"

You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.

You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.

"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.

A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.

When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.

"You were dreaming about me!"

With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.

You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.

"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."

"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.

"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.

"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.

"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.

You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.

"So why haven't you done it yet?"

Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"

You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.

It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.

Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.

Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.

Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.

The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.

"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.

"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"

You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.

"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.

"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"

"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.

"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"

He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.

"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.

Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.

"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"

Oh.

There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.

You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.

When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.

Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.

"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.

"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.

"These are my lucky pants."

You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."

Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"They got you into my bed didn't they?"

You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.

"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."

You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.

"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"

The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."

You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.

"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.

"Po-

"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."

Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.

Poe chuckles.

"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"

The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.

"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."

A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.

"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."

You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.

You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.

His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.

Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.

When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.

As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.

"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.

You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.

He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.

This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -

"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.

"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."

Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.

"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"

"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.

"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.

"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.

"Are we going to what?" He grins.

You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.

"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."

"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.

"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.

You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.

The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.

"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."

All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.

"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.

"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.

His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.

Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.

Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.

"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.

That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.

It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.

"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.

"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?

Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.

"You didn't dream about us making love?"

You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?

"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."

"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.

"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.

All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.

"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."

He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.

Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.

What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.

"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.

You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.

Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.

In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.

"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."

It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.

"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.

You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.

"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.

Poe lets out a soft chuckle.

"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."

You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."

"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.

Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."

It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.

A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.

Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.

"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"

"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.

"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.

"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.

You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.

"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."

You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.

"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"

Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.

"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"

He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."

"You manipulative little shit,"

Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.

"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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burntsaltsblog · 6 months ago

Text

tw: depiction of drug use (❄️) mdni

Chapter One

"Butcher's dead."

"Stop it," I snapped, turning to face the cracked TV in the basement of the pawn shop, our new home for the time being. "He's not fucking dead."

"Yeah, then where is he?" MM pressed. "I've known that motherfucker for a long ass time, and he would never abandon his team unless it's because he's dead."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," I said under my breath, crossing my arms and trying to focus on a re-run of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

MM shook his head, standing from the couch where I was seated. "Face it, kid. He's not coming back. One of the many people he's managed to piss off probably put a bullet through his head."

I physically bit my tongue to stop myself from blowing up at MM. He didn't deserve to be yelled at when he was just trying to be realistic. Because that's what he was at his core: realistic and logistic, and I would be lying if I said our chaotic group didn't benefit from having someone like him around. But that didn't make his realism any easier to swallow.

When I failed to answer him, MM sighed before grabbing his leather jacket and jogging up the stairs. A moment later, the door to the pawn shop opened and closed with the ring of a bell.

"What was that about?" Hughie asked, tentatively exiting his room.

"Nothing," I mumbled. "Just MM trying to convince me that Butcher's body is rotting in an alley somewhere in the tri-state area."

"Yeah. He gave me the same spiel this morning," Hughie replied, coming to perch beside me on the sofa. Kim had begun to beat Kourtney relentlessly with her designer purse, and we focused on the fight that we had watched countless times by now.

"Don't be fucking rude," we sang in time with Kim as she continued to berate her older sister physically and verbally.

"Watching this show makes me glad I didn't have any siblings," Hughie declared as he propped his feet up on the coffee table when the reality show bled annoyingly into a commercial break.

"You and me both," I replied. "Although, I don't think all siblings are like that. Kim is just special."

Hughie snorted before we fell silent for a few moments. I broke the spell by asking. "Do you think if I got a nose job, I could get on a reality show like that and make billions of dollars?"

"And what show would that be? The Real Felons of New York?"

"Exactly. And then it would be me hitting some other poor bastard with my purse. But it would probably be from Target, not Gucci, so it would hurt a lot less with it being faux leather and all."

"Mhm, everyone knows it's real leather that leaves bruises."

I turned to Hughie and cracked a smile—my first one in weeks since Butcher's disappearance. But it didn't last long as I let out a long breath, still looking at my friend. "Where do you think he is, Hugh?" I whispered.

"I don't know," he answered solemnly.

"Do you really think Butcher just abandoned us?" I prodded as I turned to face him, bringing my knees to my chest.

"I don't want to believe that, Jo. But do you remember how he left us on the side of the road? He just drove off without looking back, so is it really so crazy to assume that he'd eventually abandon all of us?"

"But it's Butcher. He was our leader. What kind of leader would forsake his team?"

"I think you need to brush up on some history, Mademoiselle."

Hughie and I swilevled our heads to see our French friend as he descended the last few steps of the pawn shop basement with several bags in tow.

"I come bearing gifts," Frenchie announced before dropping his belongings on the small armchair by the couch. "A friend of mine works at the supermarket down the street, and he let me sneak in the back and steal a few items from their delivery truck."

"Thank God. I was getting real sick of Skittles from the vending machine upstairs," Hughie professed as he riffled through the bags of produce and frozen dinners.

"Really?" I inquired with a raised brow. "Is it because you stole mine all the time?"

"Only the yellow ones!" Hughie shot back, defending himself.

"Which is the worst flavor by far. Honestly, Hugh. You have no taste."

"Yes, I do. It's just very acquired."

"Ok, Buddy. Sure it is," I snickered, gazing back at the TV as Kim appeared once again, this time yelling at a different family member.

༺༻

"C'mon, just one more line," Brandon urged, pushing the stool closer to me that was balancing a tray filled with a hefty amount of coke.

"No," I said, running a hand down the side of my face to wipe away the sheen of sweat that covered my skin. "I'm already crashing. Besides, I need to get back to base. If I'm gone for too long, the others will start to panic."

Brandon casually snorted another row before wiping his nose vigorously. "You mean the rest of your team?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, which was much to his confusion.

"Why are you guys still together? I thought your boss left town."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? We're the most wanted criminals in the country. It's not like we can return to our everyday lives as if nothing ever happened."

Brandon processed my words as he massaged his jaw, which had begun to tremble. "I guess that makes sense."

I grunted an unintelligible noise as I stood from his floor, which was covered in brown, fraying carpet. My stomach flipped, and I placed a hand over my heart as I felt it beat much quicker than usual. I could already tell that this comedown wasn't going to be fun.

"Text me when you get back, yeah? I want to make sure you're not arrested on your way home. It would be pretty shitty to get sent to prison when you're coked out of your mind."

"That's for sure," I murmured as I moved towards his door, which was decorated with old bullet holes. Brandon's latest apartment was nothing short of dilapidated, and its seedy appearance motivated guests to leave as soon as they arrived. "Will you be around this weekend?"

"Nope. I got a deal down in Pennsylvania. Thirty pounds of weed for half a million," Brandon replied as he began creating random shapes from what was left of the white power.

I stared at him for a moment before shaking my head. "Alright, well, I guess I'll see you whenever you get back."

Brandon's only reply was the sound of him snorting his snow, and I exited his apartment without another word.

I wasn't looking forward to the forty-minute walk home. It was mid-November here in New York City, and the freezing temperatures made any outdoor activity downright painful. But it was my fault for venturing out in the first place. I just couldn't bear to sit in that dingy basement with vivid thoughts of Butcher's assumed demise running through my head anymore. Each time I pictured someone blowing his brains out, it got more and more believable, and I refused to acknowledge the fact that MM might be correct and Butcher might be gone.

Tiny flakes of snow dusted the top of my head, and I drew my thin jacket tighter around my body, desperate for any source of warmth. My shoulders rose to my ears, and I bowed my head, footing it quickly in the direction of the pawn shop. All I could think about was curling up with our small space heater and watching more shitty reality television on the sofa that was definitely infested with bed bugs.

My mind grew fuzzy, and the noticeable shake of my fingers made me curse myself for not taking it easier with Brandon earlier. My eyes darted around the empty streets as paranoia took over, and I regretted not bringing my handheld with me.

If it weren't for my fragile emotional state, I wouldn't've done so many lines. But my need to bury my feelings under a blanket of drugs was too strong for me to deny, and now here I was, coming down from an intense high in the middle of Chinatown at two am.

I supposed that's what I got for falling in love with Billy Butcher.

But could you call it love? In the past three months, I had begun to doubt everything I had ever felt for the man. Sure, I'd had a massive crush on him ever since he'd found me on the street, selling drugs, and recruited me for his team. We then proceeded to harmlessly flirt for the next four months before finally sleeping together one night. Then everything with The Seven went to shit the following day, and I never saw him again. So, was it love? I guess I'd never know.

The vibration of my pocketed phone grabbed my attention, but I ignored it as I sank my teeth into my lower lip and trudged on. It was most likely one of the guys, but according to my loose calculations, I should be home in less than ten minutes. So I'd see them soon enough. Also, I needed these next ten minutes to sober up as much as possible. MM had made it quite clear that he disapproved of my "habits," as he liked to call them, and I wasn't in the mood for another lecture about how crack was going to put me in an early grave.

As I rounded the corner of the pawn shop, I stopped to pull the hood of my jacket up to cover my frizzy, tangled hair and pinch my cheeks so I wouldn't look so damn pale.

After entering the crummy establishment, I reluctantly walked down the stairs, and I heard a debate that was ensuing in the dimly lit basement.

"Raynor is not going to hand us over. She's on the same side as we are," Hughie was saying.

"Side?" argued MM. "She's the top fucking dog at the CIA. She's up the government's ass. The same government, mind you, that's responsible for naming us wanted criminals."

"That was Vought, not the government."

I trailed my eyes on my scuffed-up boots as I tried to make a run for my room unnoticed. But my cover was blown when MM spotted me.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

I raised my gaze, preparing the lie I was going to feed him, but it got stuck in my throat when I saw who he was standing beside.

Butcher. Looking perfectly healthy. Without a single bruise or a speck of blood on him. In one of his signature Hawaiian shirts, he looked like he'd just gotten back from a vacation in the tropics.

My heart slammed against my chest, but it wasn't because of the coke this time. It had everything to do with the burly man who towered over me with deep, hazel eyes that made my green ones well with anguished memories.

"That's it, love. Come all over my cock for me."

Butcher's hot breath fanned over my flesh, raising goosebumps as his lips trailed down my neck, licking and sucking as he marked me in the most depraved way.

I clenched around him as I gushed all over his thick length, screaming his name-

I jolted back to reality and clamped my mouth shut, which was hanging open as I panted, and forced my eyes to settle on MM.

"Out," I said curtly.

I glanced at Frenchie, who stood a few feet from me by Kimiko, and he turned away before discreetly wiping his nose, signaling me to do the same. Thankful for his help, I traced a finger under my nostrils, feeling the remnants of the dust that I had carelessly left behind.

I tried to play it off, but Butcher's hawk-like gaze had caught every movement, and I fixed him with an indifferent stare. So what if he found out about the earlier events of my evening? It's not like he was going to pull every statistic on the internet regarding females under the age of thirty dying of a cocaine overdose and then formulate them into a PowerPoint presentation because, thankfully, he wasn't Marvin Milk.

"Well, when you were 'out,' did you forget how to answer your phone? You know the rules about staying in contact when we're separated," MM berated me.

"Sorry," I apologized in the same tone.

With disappointment written all over his face, MM shook his head before looking back at Hughie, who was leaning against the arm of the sofa. I shuffled over to sit beside him and waited for the heated conversation to continue. All the while, I avoided Butcher and the way his eyes burned into the side of my head, no doubt judging my disheveled appearance.

"Look, all I'm saying," Hughie expressed with crossed arms. "Is that Reignor is our only shot we have left at taking down Vought. If we can just get her a sample of Compound V, then it would finally be in the right person's hands."

"Should we really trust one of Monsieur Charcuter’s scorned lovers?" Frenchie asked. "A scorned woman is a vengeful woman."

"If I may," Butcher interjected, his cockney accent shining through, "'Lover' is a rather strong word to describe what we was doin’, which was havin’ a good fuck in a few bar bathrooms."

Everyone groaned before MM got the conversation back on track.

"Fine. All those in favor of scheduling a meeting with Raynor?"

Hughie, Frenchie, Kimiko, Butcher, and I raised our hands.

"Don't bother askin’ who's opposed. You're all alone there, mate," Butcher smirked at his second in command before turning to the rest of us. "Right, first thing tomorrow, I will call Susan up and arrange a meetin’. In the meantime, you twats better get a good night's sleep cuz now that Daddy's home, you're all gonna be workin’ your arses off."

I refrained from rolling my eyes as Butcher continued, holding up his duffel bag. "Now, which one's my room?"

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#billy butcher #billy butcher brainrot go brr #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher fic #billy butcher fanfic #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #karl urban #karl urban brainrot go brrr #karl urban i’m sorry

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whumpsmith-participates · 8 months ago

Text

Medwhump May 2024

Day 13 - "You've been very sick"

TW: Minor whumpee (17), hospital setting, hospital equipment, bacterial infection, resistant bacteria, meningitis

@medwhumpmay

"...Erick? ....Daddy....think...waking up..."

Erick had never had so much trouble opening his eyes before. It felt like his eyelids had been weighed down and glued shut with dried up eye-gunk. He couldn't lift his arm to rub his eyes either, his limbs felt weighed down as well. But they were also resting on a soft mattress, so he wasn't too bothered. He was comfortable...until he wasn't.

As he slowly returned to the land of consciousness, he started noticing all the uncomfortable things. The increasingly itchy feeling on the inside of his right, lower arm; the irritation and raw feeling in his nose; the slight cramp in his middle finger which he couldn't bend to alleviate for some reason; the light tickle over his chest.

He finally gathered enough strength to pry his eyes open, only to be met by a very blurry figure hovering over him. A waterfall of brown hair cascaded down, causing the tickle on his chest and someone's face and name came to mind.

"...Jaime?"

"Hey dumbass."

Yup, that was definitely Jaime. Erick smiled, but only briefly, the movement feeling like it took more effort than opening his eyes, but it was worth it. He was glad to see Jaime, even if he wasn't entirely sure what was going on yet.

Jaime Fetcher was Fetch's daughter. She was roughly the same age as Erick, and they'd always gotten along well. It probably helped that Jaime had no idea what her father actually did for a living and how Erick ended up living with him, but also because she was just a very nice person.

Fetch had told Jaime the same cover story that they had told anyone; that Erick was the son of an estranged relative and he'd taken him in to get him out of a bad situation. They'd been introduced as cousins, but Jaime had always treated Erick like a sibling.

She didn't live with Fetch, so he didn't get to see her often enough. She lived with her aunt in a sleepy town in Kansas, much to Jaime's chagrin. She didn't get along with her aunt, and she and her friends were treated as outcasts simply for being...different.

To be honest, when they first met, Erick wasn't entirely sure what to think either. She was the type of girl that he'd rather avoid at first glance; ripped jeans, fishnets, steel-toed boots, leather jacket, studded bracelets, dark makeup, black nailpolish, a new piercing every time he saw her...

But her tough exterior was just that. On the inside she was a massive softie, as evidenced by the somewhat teary smile she returned, her gentle grip on his hand, the soft tone in her voice...

"Take it easy," she said, "you've been very sick..."

"I'm fine," Erick said reflexively, "wait...what?"

His eyesight was finally beginning to catch up. He could see Jaime more clearly now, as well as the room around them. Brown, paneled walls, suspended ceiling with light panels, large windows letting in a lot of light...

"W-where am I?"

"Hospital."

Erick hadn't even noticed Fetch until now, as if he'd suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed. Erick gaped at him, then looked down, noticing the pale blue sheets covering him, the pulse ox clip on his middle finger, the IV line in his arm. He reached up, feeling another tube run past his nose and tucked behind his ears.

"You had meningitis, dude, you could've died!" Jaime said.

"I...what?"

"It's a bacterial infection that affects the membranes and such around your brain," Fetch explained, "to make things worse you managed to get a drug resistant kind too. It was out of my hands, so I took you to hospital."

"But..."

"Don't worry about it," Fetch said, "how are you feeling?"

"...I don't know," Erick admitted, "I don't even remember...how long was I out?"

"You slept for like three days, dude," Jaime said, "I only arrived yesterday and you didn't even notice."

"T-three days?" Erick asked, surprised.

"I got back from picking up your prescription and found you passed out on the floor," Fetch said, "but they didn't work as fast as they should, and you didn't regain consciousness. I took you to the ER and thankfully they diagnosed the problem fast, and the secondary treatment did what the first couldn't."

"...okay," Erick slowly said, struggling to keep up.

"Daddy, he's still tired," Jaime said, "battling infection takes a lot out of you. Besides, you said it affected the brain. He's a little dumber now~"

"Hey!" Erick said, pouting a bit.

"Just kidding~" Jaime said, pressing a kiss on his forehead, "I'll go find a nurse to let them know you've woken up."

She smiled and headed off, leaving Erick alone with her father. He looked back up at the man, before glancing around the room.

"Won't you...get in trouble?" he quietly asked.

"I already called Tito," Fetch said, "don't worry about it. Just focus on recovering. You'll probably be out of here by the end of today or tomorrow morning."

"Did you...did you call Jaime so they wouldn't question our cover?" Erick asked.

"No, but her being here definitely helped avoid suspicion," Fetch said, "no, she called asking for money for a new piercing, and noticed something was up. I told her the truth and she came right over."

"I hope she wasn't too worried," Erick said, "she'd never let me live it down..."

"Neither will I," Fetch said.

"You were worried~?"

"Do you have any idea how much all of this is going to cost me?" Fetch said, "even if Tito can foot the bill or make it go away some other way, he's going to ask me to do stupid jobs to repay him for it!"

"Whatever happened to just focusing on recovery?" Erick asked.

"You need to focus on your recovery so you can start repaying me for all the trouble you make me go through! Fucking meningitis...were you not vaccinated as a kid? Now I have to try and dig up your records to check! When Jaime gets back, I'm taking a smoke break!"

"Yes sir," Erick just said.

"And drink some water, you need to get your gastro-intestinal system back up and running," Fetch continued.

Erick just nodded and complied. It seemed Fetch really had been worried.

Wah, finally got the chance to introduce Jaime!

This part is kind of a continuation of Day 11 - Passing out

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beoneofus · 2 years ago

Note

What do you think the boys’ favorite hobbies are?

I was gonna make a joke about paul's being masturbation but let me be actually serious 😭.

okay, okay. so I've kinda thought about this...

marko likes art, and I see him being into many different varieties of it. however, I don't think it's necessarily his favorite hobby nor past time... that's his passion. his favorite hobby; sunrise watching. he can't be on the sun or near it, but watching from afar through cracks in the cave soothes him. it doesn't necessarily make sense either, but he remembers as a human that the color orange always signified a warmth in him. that's why he uses it a lot when he paints, when he draws, when he looks for a new patch or pin to add to his jacket. I don't think the little vampire actually remembers much of his past because it was so long ago, he just knows that the most enjoyable moments were circled around orange and warmth. so he loves to watch the sunrise, because the color is so pretty - the way the sun beats off of the horizon is gorgeous, and he can only imagine how the feel of the heat from it actually feels. he misses it, being able to soak in the sun, but just watching it gives him closure.

for paul, I see him as someone who loves to collect things. you'd think he'd love to maybe play an instrument or do something music related, but once again that's his passion. when he's high, he often gets lazy and likes to either lounge around or go on a short walk because his legs don't hold out for long; with this, he learned that there's some pretty rad things out in the world. for instance, leaves. he finds the texture and colors of different ones really cool. however, I think his favorite thing to collect would be insects or small critters. they become his little buddies. he actually ended up adopting a toad he discovered in the grass not too far from the beach. it was so chill, that paul just had to keep the dude and name him olly. sick, right? he thought so too.

dwayne is definitely the one to revolve his being around things soothing yet... mysterious, in a way. so he took on the art of scribble journaling. he writes out his feelings, thoughts, takes on thw world and so on - but in a messy manner, with doodles and jagged drawings in between. he also likes to add stickers sometimes, but of course they have to fit his persona or else the entire journal is ruined. overall, he's a quiet guy, so I think him documenting shit is a perfect fit. correct me if you think otherwise.

ah, david.. now this is pretty hard to say. he's easy to read on one hand, but on another I'd have to say he's a tough case to crack. buuuut... I think david may be into something mediocre and calm, yet fun in a way. perhaps thrifting; fixing up old leather jackets, boots. I can see him adopting old wear and fixing it up to be more durable or overall new looking. it'd be a surprise at first when the others’ find out, but david wouldn't be too bothered. I actually see this as something he'd truly enjoy, which is why it won't be a problem to share it with his coven. cause, let's be real, the man has a funky style we all adore. It's his calling to be one with the wardrobe.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #tlb 1987 #ask the freak

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abeinginsand · 2 years ago

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for the character ask game, 2 and 13 with taylor! :]

Hi and thank you for the ask!! <3 Excited to talk about Taylor, such a fun little guy :D 2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on Taylor having vague memories of his dad instead of not remembering at all, sometimes finds himself looking around when there's a familiar scent of ash and fruit (for some reason I think Nicky smells like ash and watermelon idk). Or he sees certain types of leather jackets on people or at stores and sometimes has to stop himself from walking toward them/resist the urge to buy the jacket. Its why he is so insistent about asking his mom about him so much even if she gives him the same answer every time.

Having asthma (like Nicky), his sword cane doubling as a real cane. I read a hc once that mentioned maybe he was refusing to use his normal cane so Cass got him a sword cane in hopes that, because it was cool, he'd be more enticed to use it when necessary. I think its a sweet idea! Taylor having demon features. For hc, they might not have been visible at first. Meeting his dad at the FBI place and visiting hell that one time influences these features into being visible (along with puberty in general). I'd assume he could learn a way to hide the traits later but probably wouldn't enjoy doing so. 13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done Sometimes amusement parks have lost item/people stations, either as its own area or part of a help center. I think Cass was really busy for a few months so they hadn't had much time to spend together. But when the gig finished up, she surprised her little star with a trip to some fancy water park. He was pretty small though (age 5 or so) and got lost in the crowd. Ends up getting to the lost items help center, and when the station worker asks him for info (name to announce on the speaker etc). He shakes his head and puts his hands out for the microphone. Perhaps the worker was thinking this kid would ya know say their name/call out to their mom, but instead-- Taylor starts singing into the microphone. Sings some anime kids show opening that he and Cass always sing together in the mornings before she has to head out for work. I think his childhood reasoning was that mom always says not to talk to strangers, and he was probably nervous/scared deep down too. But, the song was a fun distraction and the workers gradually changing expression (concern--> awe-->shock--> oh no) was amusing too. This performance still works by the way and his mom comes to the station on someone's borrowed skate-board (inserting Cass was a skater kid hc haha). Due to this incident, the rules regarding the lost items/help center were toughened up to absolutely make sure to not allow the lost people--especially kids--to be in the same room as the announcement equipment. Probably some clips of his little performance floating around on the web. I think he feels some pride but mostly embarrassment when he happens to spot it as a teen. Solely because he's not confident in his singing/voice acting skills yet but he won't give up! ---- Second idea, so canonly Taylor got held back a grade right? I think it was mainly do to absences and certain credits from an old school out of state (or country?) not being accepted. Specifically the absences were a mix of health related (Very reasonable, while I wasn't held back myself, I did get sick a lot and man the make-up work was the worst..argh) And skipping class to watch a show/movie premiere or get in line for a new game release (<--the dumb part). If only he was skilled in the art of clone jutsu. Along with the anime character ones, Taylor has a few card board cut outs of himself in different outfits for his ditching and sneaking out schemes. (The local cops and teachers are very tired of him). Also, I feel like he and his mom are both the type to get up at night to get late night snacks or water. The cardboard cut-outs that Taylor always forgets to put away are extremely effective jump scares.

#taylor swift dndads #dndads taylor swift #dndads #dndads s2 #dndads headcanon #abeinginsand talk tag #ask meme #abeinginsand writing tag

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vivalgi · 1 year ago

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My spoilery review on Crimes of Passion 2

COP2 was a somewhat mixed bag for me but in general I enjoyed reading it. Although it had some glaring problems and other minors annoyances, the book definitely didn't leave me cold. I have many things to say about the investigation, the villain, Marguerite's controversial outfits and of course the relationship with Trystan.

The best part for me was the murder investigation. Despite the over the top depiction of this weird dystopian Eastern European kingdom and its equally silly royal family, the main plot was fairly fun. I was never fully sure who the murderer could be but I didn't really think it would be the younger siblings due to their age during the events leading to Juliana's murder. Although I still kept my eye on the real murderer, the evidence never quite pointed at at him. Vasili may have acted suspiciously kind natured and nonchalantly but you can't just accuse someone solely based on their personality. You need hard evidence and everything we found, kept pointing at other siblings. Especially when the suspect seemingly tried to sabotage the Act of Heir Equity.

Even though the royal family was already charcterized as twisted individuals, it was still somewhat surprising what a crazy psychopath Vasili turned out to be and what sick things he'd do, even to his most loved ones. I liked that he wasn't just cold and calculating but often acted on impulse and emotions. I guess the book finally lived up to its name.

I think it would have been even more awesome if his accomplice had been someone else but Colette. Was she the hooded figure in the bonus scene at the end of book 1? Since Lydea turned out to be not blood related to the king, imagine how crazy it would have been if she and Vasili had been secret lovers, plotting together. Now that would have been a real plot twist.

I usually have little faith in PB writing believable action scenes but the final 'battle' wasn't too bad. The taser shot was too slow and we had to buy a diamond scene for MC not to seem too clumsy and need our resident knight in shining armor to step in but otherwise it was fine. As usual, I believe that death is an easy way out for a caught criminal so naturally, I chose to let Vasili rot in the dark Drakovian prison instead of killing him.

One of the hot debates has certainly been Marguerite's credibility as a fashion designer. The outfits have been quite a mixed bag throughout the two books. It's actually funny and ironic how confident Mags is about her designing abilities all the time. I only bought the snake leather suit (RIP poor snakes) and the green suit, occasionally wearing the leather jacket and black premium suit from book 1. I quite liked the fashion show outfit too but my MC is an introvert with a major case of stage fright (unless it involves the chance to make out with a certain Drakovian princess named Astrid 🙈), so I had to decline the offer. However, by far the biggest offender was that weird gift wrapping made for female Trystan. I can't remember ever seeing a more horrible outfit made for any character in Choices history, especially an LI. Thankfully, with a few tweaks I was able to give her female MC's green premium dress, which I think suits her very well.

Finally, let's speak about the relationship between MC and Trystan. While I've never been Trystan's biggest fan and would have happily romanced Ruby instead, if this were a book from a distant era with multiple LIs as a norm, I still quite enjoy their dynamic. I love my stoic introvert MC and his sharp tongue and this outgoing nonchalant princess is a nice contrast to MC's personality. Their witty banter is always something to look forward to.

However, when it comes to the romantic side of their relationship then this was my biggest disappointment of the sequel. When that fight between MC and Trystan took place in chapter 4, I was quite intrigued how it would affect their relationship and how the two would solve their differences. I don't think romances have to be all rosy, that would a bit bland, especially in longer stories. Conflicts are a nice device for character growth and ultimately the love can only become stronger if you manage to climb over the obstacles. Unfortunately, good storytelling fell victim to corporate greed. Instead of focusing on mending the riff this fight should have caused, the writers decided to largely gloss over it. The main characters were made to act like a normal young couple so that PB could fit in as many p*rn scenes as possible, because this seems to be only thing readers spend their diamonds on these days.

The relationship felt superficial and one-sided as it seemed like Trystan only needed MC to satisfy her carnal needs. Trystan looked determined to take the crown and MC tried to support her decision but no-one seemed to care about MC's worries. He never got the emotional support he so badly needed. Whenever he tried to bring up the subject, Trystan decided to avoid it and distract him by trying to get into his pants, like during the coronation ball and on the ride back from Juliana's parents. To add at least some angst, In my head canon MC decided to be mad and cold at first after the fight. As the story progressed, he accepted their romance was practically over seeing how Trystan wasn't backing away from her destiny, and tried to act distant with her to get used to the idea of a life without his love. That of course meant declining every 'couple time' scene, which is only PB's loss.

Of course, PB would magically solve the problem in the most predictable and cliché way possible. Who actually didn't see it coming that Trystan would decline the crown at the very last minute? Naturally, I'm happy that at the end she chose love over duty to her country and to return to New-York with MC but what if at first we'd have gone home with a broken heart and we'd have even seen the "Thank you for playing..." dialogue and then suddenly on a rainy evening Trystan knocks on our door.

Ultimately, it was a decently fun book. I enjoyed the main plot of chasing the criminal and there were lots of funny moments but I was let down with how the relationship with Trystan was (non-)developed in book 2.

#Damn. I hoped my review would be shorter this time but oh well.#playchoices #crimes of passion 2 #choices book reviews

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living-d3ad-gh0ul · 2 years ago

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Tuesday 16th May 2023, 06.17am

I'm sorry it's been a little while since I've wrote anything. I know it's not been *that* long but.. it's been longer than I wanted it to be. I was just really busy getting ready to start my new job and um.. last week some really awful things happened.

My dad is really sick. He's in hospital right now and he lives down in England (he moved there to be with my stepmum, unfortunately she passed away 9 years ago but he's never came back because I think he feels closer to her down there. He loved her so much. As did I). So it's really difficult for me right now because I can't get there to be with him right now. And he's all alone and things are really bad. I'm going to explain a little now and I am really really sorry, I know this is all going to be heavy and really hard to hear, but.. I know I should talk about it.

Last week on Tuesday (9th May), I got a phone call from the lady who owns/looks after the retirement complex my dad lives at. She'd told me that my dad had had a bad fall and was in hospital, she couldn't get any information because shes not next of kin so she was letting me know so I could call them and find out what's going on. She'd told me he'd been not really being himself, repeating himself a lot and just generally having a slight personality change as well as some confusion and stuff. She also said he'd been complaining about having a sore shoulder and that he couldn't sleep very well, so she'd been trying to urge him to go to the doctor. But my dad being my dad, said "nah I'm fine, I don't need a doctor" because he's an idiot lol (I say that with love though).

So.. I call the hospital and they tell me he's there but I'm not next of kin. It's still down as my stepmum. Which means he's not seen a doctor in 9 years since she passed away. So the doctor said he'd have to ask my dad for permission to disclose information to me and call me back. A couple hours later, he calls me back, says my dad's given permission and I'm now changed as next of kin, great, fantastic. But then he goes on to tell me that they've done a CT scan and unfortunately, there is a mass in my dad's brain on the right side and this is what has caused his fall. He has left side weakness in his arm and leg and he can't stand or walk and he also had some visual disturbances in the left side also. So I immediately panic and start asking a bunch of questions that this doctor can't answer, he's not a neurosurgeon or anything but he tells me that the neuro doctors would be over to see him as soon as they can and that my dad would be admitted to hospital because it wouldn't be safe to allow him to go home especially if he's living alone, just incase he has another fall and really hurts himself. I agree with this and say that's probably the best course of action, keep him safe until we know more about this mass on his brain and can figure out how to keep him safe and what our options are.

I then get another call from the lady who looks after my dad's apartment complex. She tells me she's spoke to my dad's friend and neighbour... And apparently he lost the fucking feeling in his left arm A FUCKING MONTH AGO. And he didn't tell a soul. He didn't tell me or anyone at all, except his friend, who he swore to secrecy (his friend feels bad now and realises he should have said something, the guy had actually been trying to convince my dad to go to the doctor, but my dad kept refusing). We then find out he's had a couple smaller scale falls to which his friend has picked him up from and that he'd had to help him get dressed one day and do up his boots (my dad's a biker, he lives in bike boots, jeans and leather jackets, always has done lol). Then I'm told he's said he's selling his BIKE. Which is a very fucking big thing for my dad. He has a beautiful Harley Davidson, like.. this thing is his dream bike and he'd always said that. For as long as I can remember too, my dad's always had a bike. Even before I was born actually, since he was old enough to ride motorcycles he's always had one.

I ended up getting to speak to my dad and he was very confused and forgetful, but he was trying to hide it, I could tell right away. I asked him about all this and he said "Oh yeah.. yeah.. that happened" and I was just like why didnt you bloody say anything and he was just like "I just thought it'd go away, didn't think it was anything to worry about". But I think he did know, I think he was just scared. And you know what, in a way I don't blame him, because I'd be fucking terrified too if it were me and I was experiencing all of that. My dad's also from that generation of "if your arm isn't hanging off, you don't need a doctor" and I tried explaining to him that losing the feeling in your arm is a big fucking deal and needs to be seen to right away, no matter what. He agreed and apologised and I told him I wasn't mad at him, I was just worried because of what they'd found. He hadn't even remembered that, even though they'd just told him a couple hours before.

So he's admitted and they do more CT scans and an MRI, he gets sent up to a ward and he's just being his usual self, just a bit more confused and forgetful, which is fine, we can deal with that, I'm just glad hes okay and getting help at this point. We get told we may have to wait a couple days for the neurosurgeon to see him, because they have to discuss his case and look at all his scans and notes etc. So for a couple days it was just no change, my dad was in the hospital, he'd been given some steroid meds to help with swelling around the mass, it seemed to help a bit which was good. Friday last week (12th May), I got a call and it was a specialist brain tumour nurse and the neurosurgeon, as well as my dad there too. I should mention too that my dad kept telling me not to come down, to stay here cause he knew I was starting my new job and he wanted me to just get started with it and get going etc. So that's why I'm not there right now. But anyway.. so I'm on a call with all three of them while the neurosurgeon is assessing my dad, asking him to grab his hand and squeeze and do some other stuff and just like.. checking him over. He and the nurse asked lots of questions to both of us, getting basically all the information that they can. We get to a point where the specialist nurse was just asking me how I was coping and stuff while the doctor was doing some more physical things with my dad. They both kept me really in the loop about everything, telling me everything they were doing or looking at and just really making sure I was a part of it all too, which I was really grateful for.

Then came the bad news. Unfortunately, the tumour is quite large. It's in 4 different parts of his brain, his temporal and parietal lobes, his corpus callosum (which is in the middle of your brain) and his hippocampus (which is also quite deep in the brain). They also said it's looking to be either a grade 3 or grade 4 malignant tumour. Which means cancerous and rapid growing, the worst kind. We both got quite upset, me and my dad, and the nurse and doctor did their best to try and give us a minute. He just kept telling me he loved me and that he remembers us going through all this with my stepmum so we knew what would come. We then went on to discuss treatment etc. My dad consented to a biopsy and we would find out exactly what we were dealing with before we decided on a path of treatment. Whether that meant radiotherapy, chemotherapy, other cancer drugs, whatever. My dad and I both said we wanted to do whatever it took to make him well again and the surgeon and the nurse both agreed. My dad signed all the forms and they said they'd be in touch soon to let us know when the biopsy would be.

I'm sorry this is getting really long but.. there's just a lot to it. I really really am sorry and I know this is all heavy, I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you at all E, thats the last thing I want. I know you're sick too and I know you may not want to hear all this, so I really don't blame you if you can't read any more. Or even just don't want to. That's okay. I'll understand. Over the weekend, dad was fine. A little more forgetful, asking me about things he'd just asked or said 5 minutes before. I just told him gently that we'd already talked about it and reminded him and he eventually caught up with it. I had to do that a couple times but it was fine. I don't mind if I have to do that and remind him a lot, I just want him to get better. The lady from his apartment complex went to see him on Saturday and took him some books and other stuff I'd ordered on Amazon for him over to him and one of my uncles was down in York (which is a couple hours away from my dad in Nottingham) and popped down to see him on Sunday. He took him some things like clothes and essentials and he said my dad seemed in good spirits, which I was pleased about. We even got selfies and pictures of them all, which I was really happy with. I spoke to my dad on the phone (I actually had got him a new phone and just sent it down yesterday, because his phone is old and starting to break and I wanted to make sure he had a working phone) and we were talking away, absolutely fine. He got a little emotional at one point and was telling me I'm the centre of his world and that nothing else matters in the world but me and stuff and I got really upset, but I told him I'd come see him soon and I'd planned on coming down to be with him for a week or so, as long as my work approved me to do so (I work remotely, so I didn't see it being an issue but wanted to check first). He said that would be fine and he couldnt wait to see me and that he wanted to buy me a new leather jacket so I would look, and I quote, "cool as fuck just like him" lol. I said we'd see, we needed to get him better first. He said he was getting tired and I said to go rest, it was like 9pm anyway and he needed to sleep, I also had to get ready for starting work. We said we loved each other and I said I'd phone him in the morning again before I started work. That was the last time I spoke to him.

I'd tried calling him in the morning but he didn't answer. I figured he was maybe just still asleep or maybe getting ready or having breakfast. So I thought nothing of it and texted him at my break, just so he knew I was thinking of him. It got to lunch and I still hadn't heard anything. I checked WhatsApp and he had last been on at 22.45 the night before, I started wondering if maybe his phone was broke.. but then how could I still call it? So that's when I worried. I tried calling the ward he was on and no one answered me. I tried like 3 fucking times and got no answer, so I was panicking. Thankfully, by some coincidence, the neuro specialist nurse contacted me, she called me just as I got off from trying to ring the ward. She had wanted to call me because she had some news for me. My dad had unfortunately deteriorated overnight. He'd been very drowsy and sleepy yesterday morning, they could wake/rouse him but he wasn't as responsive as he was the day before. They bumped his steroid meds all the way back up (they'd started to wean him off them to see if they could find a good dose for him without giving him too much) and put him on anti-seizure medication. They haven't confirmed that he's had a seizure but this is a worry. They have also done another CT of his head and they are concerned that the tumour has grown. They said they can't tell if it's just swelling or if it's tumour growth. Hearing all of this I was fucking devastated. After talking to him the night before and being all.. you know kind of normal.. to this. So now, we are in a bit of limbo at the moment, all we can do is watch and wait to see what happens. There is no guarantee any of this is reversible too. So we just have to wait and see.. the biopsy and talks of treatment etc is all on hold until we see what happens here and if he responds to the meds he's been put on. I've still had no update from that at 1pm yesterday and it's now 7am the next morning. So I'm going to be calling them before I start work at 9am, try and see how he is, if he's awake or still sleepy. They said he's in a semi concious state, in and out of sleep a lot. And not staying awake for very long when he is awake.

I'm fucking terrified, E. I'm so scared. I don't want to lose my dad. I don't have any siblings on my dads side, both his parents are gone, his wife is gone. Yes, he has his brothers (my uncles) and my cousin's but.. they've never been close. I'm all he has and I feel terrible about not being down there. But I'm going down on Friday as soon as I finish work. One of my friends and her partner are gonna drive me down there, which I'm so so fucking thankful for. I spoke to my job and they're absolutely fine with me working from down there and completely understand the circumstances. I felt terrible telling them all of this on my first day, but they've been really supportive so far honestly. I'm truly grateful.

So the next couple of days is going to be filled with working, packing to go down and trying to check on dad and hoping the medication works and he comes around a bit more. I'm really trying to remain positive and hope for the best, hope that maybe I'll get there and he'll hear my voice and know it's me and maybe that will help. And even if he's not concious or able to really communicate with me, I'm still going to be there and talk to him and stuff, because there's nothing to say he can't still hear me and wouldn't still be comforted to know I'm there. I just... I really fucking need a hug right now. And I kind of wish you were here to give me that hug. Maybe even let me have a good cry while you hug me. If that'd be okay.

I read your post, of course. I'm glad you're back home and that you're settled in. Your cat.. sounds amazing. She sounds so cute and playful and I really really love the sound of her. I bet she is absolutely adorable too. I miss having cats honestly. And I'm really glad your cat has been helping you feel better, even if it's only in her little small way. I bet I would love her, I really do. Whatever these ideas are that you have for being creative? I say go for it. You'll do amazing at anything, I just know you will, because it's you and you are amazing. You can really do anything if you put your mind to it, E. I really believe that. You are talented and creative and smart and I really think you could do it. So I say go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Yeah it might not be an instant money maker, but you never know.. in time it could become something that you really enjoy and make a great career out of. Who knows? You can always try, my love.

I'm really glad that you enjoyed your gig and that you did well. That's amazing that someone said that to you but you know what? I'm not surprised, because you absolutely are that talented and that amazing at playing. You always have been. And yeah I might be slightly biased but.. even if I wasn't, I'd say the same thing. And you even have someone else saying it, a complete stranger too. So believe it, because you are great. I know what it's like though, I struggle with taking compliments myself so I totally get it. I'm really glad that I can help, even if it is just through our letters to each other from afar. I really am glad that my words can give you some peace and can have some kind of positive affect on you. Honestly, that's all I want. I want to help, even if only in a small way. I'll be honest, right now? I just wish I could curl up with you and just.. kinda be. If that makes sense.

This post is huge. I'm so so sorry. I just.. wanted to explain everything since I'm kinda really going through it right now. I start work in a couple hours, so I'm gonna try and have some breakfast, make a coffee, call the hospital and check on dad. I may even go outside a bit, because it's getting warmer here now too and I really like it. It was 18c the other day and honestly it was glorious. I know that might not seem hot, but that's like.. my perfect temperature. And the sky was really pretty at sunset that night too. I really really hope this post wasn't all too much. And I really really hope to hear from you soon. I've missed you. A lot. And I could really use some support myself right now. I really can't wait to hear from you again. And hopefully I'll have some good news for you next time.

I'm so sorry everything was so negative this time around. I hope you're doing well and that you're feeling better, I really really do.. because I care about you too. And I think about you all the time. I even had a very lovely dream about you a couple weeks ago.. I remember waking up and being really happy, but being sad cause I wanted to go back.. you'd have liked it there too.

I'll talk to you soon, E. I'm sending you lots of love. As always.

N x

"How the faces of love have changed turning the pages

And I have changed oh, but you, you remain ageless"

#him

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realityescapee01 · 3 years ago

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Thanks, But He's Mine

Sterek | Steo | Stiles x Derek | Stiles x Theo

Always check tags. Thank you. No trigger warning, that I can think of.

"Where's Stiles? Who's he with?" Derek asked as he slammed one bad guy down in a warehouse in far off Mexico.

"He's with Theo." Scott answered.

Derek had mixed feelings about that one. "Keep tracking, I'll head back."

It's been a year since Stiles said yes to Derek. Of them being in an exclusive dating relationship. Well, actually, boyfriends. Stiles was a little oblivious at first. Throw a chimera in the mix. A good-looking, cute, hot, sexy chimera -who also likes Stiles. Derek had a full-blown headache at that. He remembered how it was before Stiles said that oh, so sweet, 'yes' to him.

Derek just came back to Beacon Hills and Scott's pack just overcame the Monroe fiasco. The moment Derek saw Stiles, he knew he had to do something. Stiles is his anchor. And is the love of his life. Being away from the boy was tough. Cora had been mentioning he was grumpier than normal. He gets angry and irritated faster.

"You know what, Der? I'm not taking shit anymore. Go back there and claim him already! So your mood gets fixed."

Derek doesn't know how Cora knew. Yeah, during that time he was crushing hard on Stiles. Specially so that time he came back and saw Stiles in that red shirt, and hair grown out; he looked beautiful. Derek spent a lot of nights and showers imagining touching those cheek, kissing those lips, hugging that lithe body, and having those long, thin fingers wrapped around his cock, palming, pumping and squeezing.

He remembered how a fire was lit up his ass when he learned that Theo, was stubbornly pursuing Stiles. Derek decided to stay in Beacon Hills at that. Competing with the chimera for Stiles.

"Dude! The weirdest thing happened today." Stiles flopped down beside Scott in Derek's loft. They were having a pack meeting. "There was a dead rabbit in our backyard. By the door! Agh!"

"What??? Dude, wtf. What did you do with it?"

"I kept it in a box, I was hoping you'd look at it or something. See if it's an enemy thing."

"Alright."

Scott checked it out and immediately knew what it was. "Someone's courting you, Stiles." Scott continued to explain.

While Derek confronted Theo. He parked his Camaro in front of Theo's truck, blocking him in.

"It's you, isn't it?" Derek towered over Theo, in his black jeans, gray shirt and black leather jacket.

"Yeah. What about it?" Theo raised his head, not backing down.

"Stop. Stiles is mine."

"Oh, really? Does he even know?" Theo smirked. "From what I see, you haven't done anything about it."

"Theo Raeken. I'm serious."

"I'm serious too, Derek Hale."

The two stared at each other until they both turned and left. Since then, they've been trying to outdo each other. The next day, Stiles found a rabbit, and a deer in their backyard, for days! The rabbits getting bigger and bigger, and the deer too.

Stiles was losing sleep. He was becoming queasy from all the carcasses and blood. Theo sat down next to him at lunchtime. "Hi, Stiles."

"Hey, Theo." Stiles was slumped on the table, looking sick and about to vomit.

"Sorry about the rabbits. I'll stop it. But I'll replace it with lunch for you." Theo sat a lunchbox infront of Stiles.

"Wait! You're the one leaving the rabbits and the deers?!?" Stiles quipped up.

"Just the rabbits."

"Who leaves the deers?"

"That's-not for me to say. I'm pretty sure he'd show himself soon enough. Anyway. Sorry about that. Let me make it up. Go on, open the box."

Stiles just stared for a while. Theo just out himself that he is the one courting him. Courting. "Ohmygod." Stiles stared at Theo up and down. "Are you serious?!? Is this a prank?"

"I'm serious. I like you, Stiles. A lot. You're smart but you're pretty clueless about werecreature courting ways."

Stiles just shook his head and went and opened the box Theo sat in front of him. "Please, tell me this are not the rabbits."

Theo just laughed, flashing him his most perfect smile. "It's not. Don't worry."

Stiles gulped and saw a meal inside. Normal human meal. Chicken. And some veggies. Looking fresh and mouth-watering. "Did you... cook this?!? Wow. Just wow." Stiles munched on it and he was floored. It was delicious. Stiles closed his eyes, nodded furiously, and made an 'okay' sign with his hands. Theo just smiled and watched him eat.

Schoolday ended and Stiles was picked up by Derek. "So, uhm, Stiles?" Derek asked, the moment Stiles sat in his car. "Are you free to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm kinda full, Derek. Theo made me lunch. It was superb!" Stiles rubbed his belly.

"Theo. Made. You. Lunch?" Derek said each word firmly.

"Yup! Who would've thought Theo can cook. And he was... well... uhm... he was the one leaving the rabbits on my backyard." Stiles blushed.

"Oh."

"Yup... just the rabbits he said. The deers were not from him. I wonder who they're from."

"They were from me." Derek confessed.

"W-Wait, hold up. Stop." Stiles asked to stop the car by the side of the road. "WHAT?!?" his current blush turned deeper red.

"I'm the one leaving the deers, Stiles."

"You... Derek, you're also-"

"Courting you."

Stiles's jaw dropped. He's mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could that happen? Two guys courting him?!? Two very hot guys! Stiles was in a stupor.

"I guess I should just drive you straight home. Two confessions in a day is too much, huh?"

Stiles just nodded. The next day, the rabbits and the deers stopped. Instead it was replaced by a breakfast meal. It was an ordered meal. Derek tried to cook but Cora was strongly against it, saying the cooking was bad and he'd definitely lose against Theo. So Derek just ordered and swore to take up cooking lessons. Days went on, breakfast from Derek, and lunch from Theo.

And so the competition began. Derek and Theo even engaged in a petty: who beats more enemy than the other. During pack training, the two suitors show off and flex.

Stiles stares at Derek's back then at Theo's abs. Derek's chest then Theo's arms.

Scott wrapped his arm around Stiles's neck. "Hey, who are you gonna choose though?"

"Scotty... let me just enjoy the moment." Stiles pursed his lips.

Scott just laughed and watched his best friend ogle on.

Derek caught Stiles staring at Theo's thighs and made a mental note to double up on his leg days. He shook his head and couldn't believe he's competing with a teenager. Anything for Stiles.

But that was all in the past now. Derek won Stiles over. But Theo's still around. He couldn't get rid of him as he is part of the pack. At first, Derek was unsure to leave Stiles around Theo. But seeing how Stiles handles Theo, and how Stiles assures him with steamy make out sessions, Derek felt secured.

Derek was away when something happened. Some witch magic turned Beacon Hills into a complete deep forest. Stiles and Theo were together when it happened. Scott called up Derek to update him.

"Where's Stiles? Who's he with?" Derek asked as he slammed one bad guy down in a warehouse in a far off Mexican town.

"He's with Theo."

Derek felt weird, he wasn't pleased but he was relieved. He doesn't like Theo being around Stiles, but he knows Theo will not let anything bad happen to his Stiles. He found a little comfort on that. "Alright... Stiles would be okay. I'm heading back. I just have to get this one guy talking." Derek dropped the call and proceeded to interrogate the guy.

"Alright, I will keep tracking them."

---

"We can camp in here for the night." Theo led Stiles into a cave. It's nothing much, but it will do in the harsh cold weather outside. And safe from what night creatures could be lurking outside in this magic deep forest.

Stiles rubbed his arms and was shivering a little. Theo took his sweater off and gave it to Stiles. "H-Hey, don't you need it?"

"A shirt will do for me." Theo gesturing to his black t-shirt then began heading out.

"Hey hey! Where are you going?!?" Stiles panicked a little and reached out to Theo.

"Out. To hunt for food. And things to make campfire." Theo explained, liking how Stiles was holding onto his arms when he stopped him from walking out.

"Oh..." Stiles let go of his arms. "Okay. Just... you better not leave me here to die!"

"I'm not leaving you, Stiles. I'll be back."

And as Theo promised, he came back with 2 rabbits, all he could find in this strange forest, some rocks and tree branches and twigs for the fire. He set the things down. Made a chipped rock from the bigger stone. Then made a circle on the ground from the remaining stones. He shredded the tree branches with his claws to make wood tinders to feed the fire he's gonna make. He rubbed the dry sticks together quickly and soon enough, it was smoking. He fed the heat with the tinders to finally make fire.

He set it in the rock circle he made. He then used the chipped stone to cut up the rabbits. He set it on the fire to cook. "Come over, Stiles. Get warm." He called Stiles over, who was watching him in awe the whole time he was doing those. "Did I mesmerize you, babe?" Theo flirted.

Stiles was shaken from his awe-stricken state. "No!" He stood and approached the campfire. "And I told you already, don't call me 'babe', only Derek calls me babe."

Theo just laughed on as he gave the cooked meat to Stiles. Theo bit off of their meal. Stiles did the same but found himself trying hard to really eat it. "I know, can't really do much without proper seasonings. Sorry, Stiles. I tried."

"No, it's okay. I'm just not used to it." Stiles ate again. Finding it easier to swallow this time. Theo then got the bunch of palm leaves that he left by the entrance and started making bedding for Stiles. Patting it warm as he finished. "Here you go, babe. Your bed."

"Theo! Babe! Again!"

"Hahaha! Okay, okay. Sorry. Come on, take a rest." Theo moved to the entrance and started his guard.

Stiles laid on the makeshift bed. Not that comfortable but it's better than the hard, bare, dirt rock floor. He fished his phone out again, hoping he got signal back. But nothing. Stiles sighed and muttered Derek's name. He wished he was to find him and bring him home now.

Theo caught that muttered 'Derek' from Stiles. He sighed. It hurt when Stiles rejected him and answered Derek. He still tried flirting with Stiles but Stiles was very loyal to Derek. Even if the werewolf was away, for months. Theo cursed at how lucky Derek Hale is. Stiles is everything he wanted and more.

Morning broke and the two of them began walking again, hoping to find Scott and the others. They came across an apple tree. Theo picked some, bit one to test, and gave one to Stiles when it was okay to eat. They took a rest a bit, by the river. Theo sniffing around, he swore he caught scent of Scott. "Maybe you should try howling or something?" Stiles suggested. "I can't, we don't know what or who is out there." Fair point, Stiles thought. He was so desperate to get back to his friends and to Derek.

Derek couldn't contact Scott or Stiles anymore. The situation must've worsened. Derek drove faster in the sports car he saw in the warehouse. Stiles is smart but he's not built for the forest. He, begrudgingly, hoped that Theo is taking care of Stiles. Though he knew the chimera definitely would. He hated it, relying on Theo at this moment, but it would be the best for Stiles. Derek drove even faster. "Stiles, just hold on. I'll find you, babe."

Theo and Stiles are on the move again. "Wait!" Theo held out his hand to stop Stiles from walking. They had passed this tree before. He was sure of it. He looked at the ground too. And yes, the forest shifted. "What the fuck? How will we get outta here?" Stiles was mad. "Calm down." Theo shifted into his werewolf form as he felt the ground move.

"Woah!" Stiles almost fell when the ground cracked between him and Theo. "Stiles!" Theo leaped to Stiles and they ran away from the cracking ground. "S-Scott?!?" Stiles looked to the left and saw Scott and Liam running towards the same direction they were heading.

"Stiles! Theo!" Scott hollered from a few meters away. "Over there! Meet up!" Scott pointing at the Nemeton stump. Of course, the Nemeton would be the only constant thing in this chaotic forest. They landed on the Nemeton, catching their breaths. Stiles especially so. He remembered the run coach Finstock made him do one time during lacrosse practice.

Stiles hugged Scott. "Ohgod, please tell me you know how to get us out of here."

"Lydia's on it, Stiles... Oh dude, we were so hungry."

"Here." Stiles offered them the apples.

"You got apples?" Liam grabbed two.

"Yeah. And rabbits cooked over fire. And palm leaves bed."

"You have fire? and bed?" Liam added.

"Y-Yeah? Why?"

"We only got mushrooms and frogs, and some berries." Liam was on the 2nd apple. "You still have those rabbits?"

"Sorry, we finished it." Stiles patted Liam's back and glanced at Theo, realizing he drew the better end of a deal. He understands. Scott and Liam were not born werewolves and they were never in the wild for long. Theo knows a lot about outdoor survival, probably some sick dread doctor training or what not. He didn't wanna ask.

The four of them decided to stay by the Nemeton just in case the forest shifts again. Theo went out and hunted with Scott. Liam guarded Stiles. The hunters came back, Scott was carrying a small deer, Theo was carrying lots of palm leaves and tree branches and twigs. Theo did what he did back in the cave, for 3 people now. Said 3 people was watching him in awe.

"Well. Dinner's ready." Theo smiled proudly.

"Dude! You're so cool." Scott digged in first. Then Liam. Then Stiles. He let them eat as he set up the makeshift beds.

"This tastes better than the rabbits." Stiles said. "I found some wild leeks out there. Added to the taste a little bit." Theo explained.

That night, Theo was able to sleep as Scott and Liam volunteered to stand guard alternately. Stiles was already in his bed and is looking at his phone. Derek's photo in his phone. He sighed and thought how much he misses his sourwolf.

Derek arrived in Beacon Hills. He almost missed it because it was literally just woods right now. If not for Lydia intercepting him. Lydia was halfway through solving the problem. He asked Derek to locate the Nemeton, hoping the boys figured they should stay by it. Derek made his way to the Nemeton as Lydia finishes solving this problem.

The boys were discussing their next move if Lydia hasn't broken the spell yet by this day. Stiles felt the temperature get colder. He hugged himself and stepped closer to the werewolves for body heat.

Then he snapped his head back as he swore he heard Derek. "Derek? Scott, I think I heard Derek." The others started to listen. "There was nothing, Stiles." Scott said. "No! I swear! I heard him. I'm not hallucinating. Derek?!? Derek!!!" Stiles started calling out.

The forest started shifting again. "Stiles! come back here!" Scott held him back. If Stiles takes a step away, he'd fall out of the Nemeton's area, making him shift with the forest. Stiles stumbled back to Scott. "He's out there, Scott!" "Okay okay. But we have to stay here, Stiles." "I fuckin' miss him, Scott." "I know, Stiles. I know." Theo was just listening, indeed, he also heard Derek.

Hours more passed and the forest shifted again, but this time; the trees, and the grass began disappearing. And Derek's calls became clearer and clearer. "Oh shit! Derek!!!" Stiles saw his sourwolf calling out. He ran towards him and jumped, literally jumped, onto Derek -who catches him with ease. "Stiles. Oh, babe." Derek nuzzled Stiles on his neck. He missed that scent. But it's mixed with Theo's. Stiles was still in Theo's sweater.

"Nice. Lydia must've solved it." Scott wrapped his arms around Theo's and Liam's neck.

They all walked up to their cars. Before Stiles steps in Derek's camaro, he noticed Derek looking at his sweater. "Oh! Uhm. Wait, Der." Stiles immediately took the sweater off. "I'll just give it back. It helped me keep warm in there." "I'll give it back." Derek took the sweater from Stiles and approached Theo.

Theo tensed up the moment he felt the born werewolf approach him. "Here." Derek held out his sweater that he loaned to Stiles. "Thanks, but he's mine." Theo took his sweater back. "I know, Derek. I know." Theo wore it and drove off. Derek walked back to Stiles.

Arriving at his loft, he locked Stiles in his embrace. "Wait wait wait. I wanna take a shower." "Let's shower together then."

"Mmmfuck! Shower, huh?" Stiles panted out. He was pushed up against the wall, Derek pounding into him. "Ah!" Derek then sucked on his neck, definitely a hickey tomorrow, no, scrap that. Derek just bit him. "Dammit!" Stiles gripped Derek's hair as they continue grabbing and caressing each other. Letting themselves come and letting the running water wash off their release.

Finishing the shower, Derek hugged Stiles from behind and "Babe, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Stiles was drying his hair.

"I wasn't there with you in that forest."

"Oh, Derek." Stiles kissed him. Over and over. "It's okay. You were on a mission. Which you dropped just to get back here. For me."

Derek has his head down. "It's just... Theo took care of you when it should be me."

Stiles cooed and forced Derek to raise his head. "Oh, Derek... sourwolf... why don't you make it up to me then?" Stiles said suggestively, pursing his lips tight that they become a deeper pink color; he knows Derek loves that. And then he pushed Derek onto the bed.

"W-We could arrange that, babe." Derek settled on the bed and nodded at Stiles. "Now, if you'd just climb on top of me."

"Coming!" Stiles needn't be asked twice.

-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-

More on my master list here.

I did write a few sterek smuts... so... yeah. Enjoy!

Like the gifs used here? See source under them. Reblog, do not repost. Thank you all gif creators here ♥️

#sterek #stiles #derek #derek hale #stiles x derek #derek hale x stiles stilinski #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #competition #theo #theo raeken #lime #fluff

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bearsinpotatosacks · 3 years ago

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Movie Nights & Blankets- Winter Prompt List

From a winter prompt list. Takes place after my Academy Era fic

"You really don't have to do this, Chris," Jim said. "I'm fine,"

Pike rolled his eyes and marched them to the elevator. Jim shuffled behind him, heavily denying that he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept fully. Every hour he'd wake up coughing, his chest tight and head in a whirl.

But it was nothing he hadn't dealt with before. No one looked after him when he was ill back in Iowa, nothing had changed, he could still take care of himself just fine.

"I'll believe you're okay when you don't collapse on your way to lunch," Pike scoffed.

Jim lent against the side of the elevator when the doors shut. His lungs were aching. There had been news of a killer cold travelling around the campus, some people in his fencing club had to leave early during their last meeting.

He didn't know why it was so hard to admit he was sick, which he wasn't. It was just that being sick made no changes when he was living with Frank. He didn't get soup and sleep. He still had to cook and clean and do everything perfectly.

Jim tapped his code into the door and hobbled through. He walked into a wall of scent. Rich herbs, roasted vegetables and spiced chicken wafted through the air from the little kitchen to his right.

He hung up his leather jacket on the coat hooks, toed off his shoes onto the mat and wavered on his feet. Pike caught him, grabbing his arm and moving him past the half wall that separated the kitchen and the entrance hall.

"Look, Jim, McCoy’s even making some stew for you," Pike deposited Jim on the sofa and threw the crocheted blanket on him. "I've already told your professors that you'll be off sick, and if you really want work then they'll send it to you. It's Sunday today, all you have to do is sit there, watch films and be waited on by your roommate. Now is that too hard?"

Yes. He thought.

"No."

"Alright," Pike turned to Bones. "I'll leave him your capable hands."

Bones thanked him and sat down next to Jim. He placed his hand on his forehead and tutted, "You've got a fever, wait there and I'll get my medkit,"

Jim felt his head behind to swim. It drifted as he swayed. The wall in front of him moved to and fro, like a pendulum on an old clock. His pulse throbbed in his head, getting louder with every breath.

"Woah, woah, hold on," Bones ran back to him. "Okay, I got you a cold and flu drink, you're going to have a shower and have some of the stew I made,"

Jim blinked at him, "Okay,"

He helped him up and made their way to the bedroom. Jim carried on swaying with every step, the only thing grounding him were McCoy's rough hands on his forearms. Electricity flashed from where his fingertips grasped his arms. Butterflies flooded his weak stomach but he knew it wasn't due to sickness.

He'd been looking at McCoy differently lately, when he came back from morning PT or graveyard shifts at the hospital. He felt the same fluttering when he heard him whistling as he cooked, when he was arm deep in a recipe for Challah bread because he cared so much that this was just as much a home for Jim and his culture as it was for himself.

He didn't know if it was just a puppy crush or something deeper. It scared him to think about what they could mean. Everything and everyone he touched seemed to disappear or turn sour. It was like a curse.

He couldn't blame his dad for everything that went wrong in his life. He was dead. He didn't know about Tarsus or Frank's abuse.

The only constant in those was Jim, how his mother couldn't look him in the eye or why he couldn't seem to ever please Frank or why everyone he loved ran away. He hated to think about how this could affect Bones. He meant so much to him and to think he could lose him because of this curse he had, it was enough for him to run a mile the other way.

"Alright, let's take off your shirt," he undid the clasps and lifted it off. Jim shivered as goosebumps formed around Bones' fingers. "And don't get any ideas, I don't sleep with patients."

"You don't sleep with anyone,"

"It's called being demisexual, Jim, you should look it up sometime,"

Leonard moved to his trousers and held his breath. He looked away from his crotch as he undid the clasps of his fly.

"I know what being demisexual is, Bones, I was just teasing," his breath caught in his throat as he rose up to meet him.

He could see right into his hazel eyes. There was a familiar sparkle in them, the one he got when he got to care for people. His face glowed slightly and Jim's stomach swooped again.

"Alright get in the shower, you," Bones handed him his towel and pyjamas.

Jim blinked for a few moments, then nodded and made his way into the shower with his head full of Bones' dazzling eyes.

~~~

Leonard turned when he heard the shower turn off and was already standing with a hot bowl of stew when Jim emerged. He took a deep breath, the fresh steam clearing some mucus from his lungs.

"You're out," Bones beamed. "Sit down, sit down, I made your favourite, beef stew with dumplings and herbs and root vegetables, it's got all the vitamins you need and it's been brewing for hours-"

He stopped mid-sentence, "What?"

"Nothing, I can just tell that you're in your element, you know? You're a doctor, you're the mum friend, you're a feeder, you're amazing at this,"

"Thanks," Bones flushed bright red and handed him the hot bowl, wrapped in a towel.

He stood up again and took another crocheted blanket out of the box to the right of the sofa. He threw it out and wrapped it around Jim, making sure he was properly tucked in.

After sitting down next to him, Leonard turned on the holo screen, "What do you want to watch?"

"A romance,"

Bones raised an eyebrow.

"What? I like soppy romances, the soppier the better,"

Bones laughed, "Alright, an immensely soppy romance, coming up,"

Jim took a long slurp of his stew and sighed. It sounded cliche but he could tell it was made with love. He'd only realised it recently but everything Bones did, he did with love. It could be suffocating but after going almost his whole life without love, Jim was happy to drown in it.

Really felt like doing some mckirk crush stuff. Hope you enjoyed this!

#leonard mccoy #bones #jim kirk #aos #mckirk #pre relationship #star trek #aos star trek #star trek aos #alternate original series #star trek alternate original series #christopher pike #fluff #crushes #crush #sick #bear writes #cute

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- I hate these moodboards sm)

Masterlist. Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, medical emergency, sexual tension

Chapter 3 Taking Blame

One month later After they'd gotten engaged, Keanu had been politely adamant in insisting that Miranda get to know Matt and Poppy better; take them out, spend time with them after their tutors left for the day and drive them to swim and ballet occasionally. As expected, she'd been reluctant, and even when Miranda did begrudgingly agree, Emma had been asked, or rather persistently urged, to join her. Of course, Miranda had dismissed Keanu when he protested that the entire purpose of her taking them was to spend time with the twins alone, arguing insistently that it was Emma's job to take care of them.

That had been nearly a month ago, and after one trip to the mall, two swim meets, three weekly ballet practices, spent with Emma trailing three paces behind Miranda, holding the children's hands along with whatever bags they had, Miranda had finally agreed to watch the children on her own and Keanu had let Emma have some time off.

Using her time liberally, Emma had gone to lunch with a couple old college friends, and then for a few drinks after. It was past seven when she finally returned, and from the minute she walked through the side door from Keanu's huge garage, the strong aroma of baked goods washed her senses, peaking Emma's curiosity, drawing her towards the kitchen. She didn't think Zelda had stayed that late.

Much to her surprise though, it wasn't the older woman in the kitchen, instead, it was Miranda standing amid the mess, a tray of grayish brownish cookies laid out on the the breakfast bar, dressed casually in white lounge pants and loose lace blouse, some of her hair pined away from her face. Surrounding the tray, was an assortment of ingredients, most of them looking like they'd been bought at a high end organic food shop. "Miranda?" Emma said slowly, beckoning the older woman's attention.

"Emily!" She spun on the absent heel of her ballet pump, and Emma gnawed on her lip to quell her annoyance. It was still extremely irritating when Miranda got her name wrong, but she'd given up on correcting her, deciding that she was more than likely doing it on purpose. "You're home, finally. Zora left….." she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively, "Some time ago, but thankfully you're here to clean up. Try one, they're peanut butter cookies. Totally organic," she shoved the tray closer to Emma.

"Okay," she cringed, wondering how bad organic desserts could be. She'd heard the stories, how they tasted like cardboard, grass and other things that most people wouldn't readily put in their mouths. Miranda stared at her intently, clearly waiting for Emma to take a bite and so, deciding that a cardboard cookie might be easier to endure than her boss's fiancée whining, she nibbled to the edge, just enough to get a taste. Eyes widening in surprise, she went in for a bigger bite, humming at the surprisingly good taste, "This is actually……"

"It's good right? Apparently Keanu thinks you baking is the gold standard or whatever," and once again, Emma wasn't sure if Miranda's compliment was actually a compliment.

Stammering, she just nodded, "It is good, you made them for the kids, do they like them?"

"Mhm!" With a triumphant grin, Miranda started walking out of the kitchen, reaching the mouth of the hall, "They’re in the playroom, and since you're here you can take over now!"

Not even bothering to respond, Emma just shook her head, shrugging off her leather jacket, draping it over a chair at the kitchen table, knowing the sooner she got to work, the better. The first thing she did was start clearing the remaining ingredients from the counter, barely glancing at names and labels until something caught her eye, "Miranda!" Emma yelled, panicked, not caring how upset she'd get, "Miranda!"

Seconds later, she came hustling into the room, muttering about how rude and incompetent hired help could be. "What do you want now?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Did you put this in the cookies?" Hastily, she held up a bag half filled with wheat flour, the plastic packing clutched tightly in her fist. Her heart was probably beating a mile as Emma anticipated a response.

"Yeah," Miranda scrunched her nose, still upset by Emma's scolding tone, "So what, it's good-"

"Didn't you read the list?" Already she was dropping the flour, not caring if it spilled, making a bigger mess than before, lunging for her handbag and rummaging for her keys, "Matty, Pop!"

"What list?"

"The fucking allergy list!" Emma sneered, too jolted to stop and worry about Mirada's precious feelings, "It's right there on the fridge,” she pointed hurriedly, and just as she was about to call for the kids again, Matt came running into the room, his face pulled with fright.

“Emma!” He ran past Miranda and straight for her, grabbing her thigh to get Emma's attention, “Come quick, something’s wrong with Poppy! She started coughing and-” He was on the verge of tears and there was an anxious bounce in his stance.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” Emma quickly kissed his hair, standing again to go get Poppy, “Everything’s gonna be okay, but I need you to be a big boy and wait by the car for me,” after that mishap, there was absolutely no way in hell that Emma was leaving Matt alone with Miranda, not when she was pretty sure she had a case of anaphylaxis on her hands, “I’m gonna go get Pop, okay?”

Nodding he ran off, and Emma went in the other direction, choking a sob when she reached the playroom, finding Poppy on the floor, gasping for breath, angry red patches on her skin. Without thinking twice, her instincts took over and she scooped the girl up in her arms, laying her head on her shoulder. Cradling Poppy’s head, she ran out to the garage, almost slipping on the tiles in the process, “It’s gonna be okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Tears were hot on her cheeks, but Emma knew that she had other things to worry about, her own emotions could be seen to after.

“What should I do?” Miranda came to stand beside her, wringing her hands as Emma got Matt into the car seat. “I swear I didn’t know that she was allergic-”

“Look I don’t have time for this,” not even realizing that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, Emma was already in the driver’s seat, getting the posh SUV started. Ideally, she should have taken Miranda with her to keep a check on Poppy while they drove to the nearest hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the woman while she was also trying to keep Matt calm and his sister alive. Not without starting a fight at least. “Just call Keanu, lock up the house and then meet us at the hospital.”

The automatic door started reeling upwards, and Emma was backing out, “Are you sure I can’t-”

“You’ve done enough Miranda,” She backed out, “We’ll be at L.A General,” and with that, Emma backed into the street, shifting gears and then speeding off, hoping that she’d get to the E.R before it was too late.

Curled up next to Emma in the pale green sofa of the pediatric waiting room, was Matt, fast asleep. It was just past eight, and if they were at home, she knew he’d still be bouncing off walls, nowhere near ready for bedtime, but Emma had passed his tire off as a consequence of the hustle and trauma, it was certainly enough to have her eyes heavy. But Emma couldn’t sleep, not when the doctors hadn't yet come to update her on Poppy’s condition. By then, in just about an hour, she cried, hyperventilated quietly and almost screamed several times. All she could think of was how Poppy having that life threatening reaction was all her fault. She shouldn’t have left Miranda alone with them, she should have told her to read the list, checked on them instead of stalling in the kitchen. Something, anything.

Sitting across from her, on one of the single seats was Miranda herself, worried, though not half as frenzied as Emma. Maybe she was just good at keeping it at bay. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten there, instead, Miranda had opted to anxiously flip through magazines provided while Emma had struggled through trying to get Matt to have a sandwich from the cafeteria and a little carton of milk for dinner, almost losing her mind when he fought her, but eventually getting him to have some of it. And like she couldn’t bare to sleep, she was also too sick to her stomach with guilt to eat.

Her thoughts had left her sinking, and when Matt had succumbed to slumber, Emma had let the rest of the room fade to nothing, one mantra playing on loop in her mind, ‘just let that sweet little girl be okay.’ Keanu had been unreachable, so they'd left several voicemails, and Emma vaguely remembered that he’d mentioned that he had a meeting about a movie he'd worked on as a producer and then another with his agent, though, when he came though the white double doors, motorcycle helmet in hand, his eyes were red, his hair a mess there was an urgency in this long strides. “What the hell happened?” Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth as he looked between Emma and Miranda, who both stood at his entrance.

Immediately, Miranda rushed to his side, sinking into his side and letting his arm go around her waist. Before Emma could process his question, Miranda was the one speaking, “I have no idea,” she shot Emma an unreadable look, though at the last second, there was devilish glimmer in her green eyes, “Emma came home and made them snacks, and next thing I know Poppy’s having a reaction.” Figures that out of all times, Miranda would remember her name, it would be then.

Her jaw hung slack and for the longest minute, Emma was at a complete loss for words. Though, her mind came up with a long list of the things she wanted to say, what the fuck? Being at the very top. “I….” She stuttered, wanting to instantly clear her name. But then, in a rush, Zelda’s words came back to her, Miranda always gets what she wants and stay out of her way. “I…” Even if she did tell the truth, Miranda was Keanu’s fiancée, who would he believe anyway? The hired help or the woman who he wanted to be the mother of his children. Emma was pretty sure she already knew the answer, best not to fight it, especially since she was clearly already on Miranda’s bad side. “I’m sorry,” fighting tears was hard, and the anger that heated up Keanu’s face was frightening, “I didn’t mean to- to- I just-”

Cutting off her stammering, moving his hand from Miranda’s waist, tossing his helmet to a chair and finally running both his hands through his hair. “How could you be so careless?” He hissed loud and venomously, “You could have killed my daughter,” the only reason he wasn’t full on yelling was because Matt was sleeping nearby, but Emma could tell that it was barely holding Keanu back and the low tone didn’t make his words sting less. “There’s a list for a reason, you know that. But now, my daughter is in the hospital because you were careless! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am so, so sorry Keanu,” hot tears streamed down her face, from tired burning eyes. Her hiccupped breaths made Emma feel like a child being scolded at recess and all she wanted to do was have a fissure in the floor open up and swallow her. “I would never hurt Poppy, not intentionally, and I swear, as soon as it happened-”

“She came and told me,” Miranda interjected, intent on only making the situation worse, a hint of a smirk threatening to twist her lips, “And I told her that she had to take the children to the hospital immediately. Poppy could have died, for God’s sakes!”

A strangled sob threatened to wake Matt, and Emma had to clasp her hand over her mouth. How could someone be so outrightly vicious, going as far as shoving the blame on another person. “Maybe hiring you was a mistake,” Keanu determined, and Emma’s eyes went wide, definitely not prepared for what came next, “Maybe we need to reconsider you as their nanny.”

“What?” Emma swallowed thickly, that couldn't be it. From the minute they met she knew that Miranda hadn’t liked her, but fired? Never seeing the twins again or Keanu, she didn’t think it would go that far. “Please don’t-”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Keanu raised his hand, motioning for Emma to stop, passing it over his face before turning away.

Emma needed that job, and she adored those kids. Hell, she might have even been falling for Keanu, but she was not prepared to be humiliated even further. And maybe, if Miranda was going to be a permanent part of the Reeves household, it was better that she didn’t stick around. She could put up with a lot, but being someone for an entitled celebrity to cast undue blame on wasn’t one of them. Passive aggressive insults, snide remakes, being a bag holding mouse and walked all over, she could take. But being humiliated in public, for something she hadn’t done? Being treated like she was an inept child and not worthy of having an explanation or a chance to clear her name? That was where she drew the line.

“You know what Keanu,” Emma felt around her bag, eventually pulling out the keys for the SUV that she used to drive around the kids, “Miranda,” she hissed vehemently, “Maybe I should save you both some time,” finding a spot of courage, she strode up to him, Emma shoved the keys to Keanu’s chest, not caring if he got a hold of them or not, “Cause I quit.”

From the minute he held the keys in his grasp, feeling her fingers brush his and subsequently watching Emma walking out of the waiting room, Keanu knew he’d made a mistake. Emma couldn’t just leave, his children adored her, he…...well, he wasn’t too sure about what he felt for her, but he did know that he didn’t want to lose her. The whole firing quip had been an empty threat, fueled by stress and anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “Mandy, you stay here,” he started walking off, hoping to catch Emma before she could leave the hospital.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his bicep, “You can’t just leave me here with him,” Miranda gestured to Matt, still curled up sleeping, not knowing that the nanny that he’d started looking up to had just walked out on them, and it was all his father’s fault. “Besides,” she reasoned, tone even and cool, “If she wants to leave, you should let her. She’s lazy and irresponsible.”

“Wha- no,” Keanu shook off Miranda's grip and by extension, her words, “Emma is not lazy, she works her ass off for my kids, and irresponsible? It was a mistake,” in an instant, his mind was changing and Keanu was regretting the way he’d handled things with Emma. She was obviously devastated knowing that she’d put Poppy at risk, and he had just made it worse, “Allergies happen, she has to learn. And I do too. I'm sorry,” he began the walk to the doors, “But I have to go find her.”

Keanu hadn’t meant for things to go awry, or to force Emma to quit, but he had just been so upset; worry and fear morphing into anger, causing him to lash out. In her three months with their family, that was the first time that she’d made any sort of mistake. Emma had probably committed the list memory and believing that she could make such a careless mistake was becoming increasingly hard. It just didn’t make sense. Emma treated his kids like they were her own, and that was only one of the many reasons why Keanu couldn’t lose her.

Thankfully though, he was able to catch up to her just as she was headed for the curb, arms wrapped around herself to combat the night’s chill, her sleeveless cotton shirt, with a little knot over her navel not really doing her any favors. “Em!” He jogged up to her, speeding up when she walked faster, “Emma, please, just wait.”

“What?” She turned, olive cheeks tear stained and taking on a reddish tint, illuminated by the street laps lining the parking lot, rage and hurt intermingling, “What do you want?” She heaved, and Keanu hated that he’d made her cry. She didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve anything he’s given her back there. Emma was a marvelous person, who was exceptional at her job.

“I’m sorry,” Keanu breathed, shaking his head, stepping closer, “You’re the best nanny Matt and Poppy have ever had; they love you, they listen to you and they’d miss you a damn lot if you left. I’d miss you,” his features softened, his eyes pleading, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that, I wasn’t even there and mistakes happen. I know that you wouldn’t put either of my kids in danger,” he slumped his shoulders, and Emma looked away, swiping at her eyes. She was fighting shivers too, Keanu could see it; it had rained earlier that day, and a distinct dampness along with an uncharacteristic chill still hung in the air. Not thinking much of it, just not wanting her to catch a cold, Keanu shrugged off his riding jacket, stepping closer and reaching around Emma to drape it over her slender shoulders, taking the opportunity to grip them after, “Please don’t leave us Em. I'm begging you.”

“I’ll stay,” she clenched her jaw, wiggling out of Keanu’s grip, “But not for you, I’m staying for those kids. And next time you want to accuse me of trying to kill one of your children, maybe you should dig a little deeper first."

“What?” Knitting his brows, Keanu watched as she started towards the hospital’s entrance, his coat swallowing up her frame, not even offering one backwards glass before going through the automatic doors.

Three Days Later The house had been exceptionally quiet since they’d returned from the hospital, Keanu had asked Emma to tell the tutors to take the rest of the week off, and Poppy had been recovering with her brother almost constantly at her side. The doctor warned them that Poppy’s allergy to wheat could have been deadly if they hadn’t gotten there sooner, and when Keanu had hugged Miranda in relief, while Emma was still wearing his jacket, she had to pretend it didn’t sting.

As a direct, though relieving side effect though, Miranda had been actively avoiding her, and Emma could tell that Keanu was too. That was, until late one evening, after Emma had put the kids down for an early bedtime and had resigned to her own room, getting into comfortable shorts and a loose camisole after her hot shower, deciding that a glass of wine and a movie on her laptop would be the perfect end to an easy Friday. The knock on her door and been soft, lacking urgency, and when she pulled it open, seeing Keanu on the other side, she was actually surprised, “Keanu?”

“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly, dressed like he’d just come home, still in his jacket and everything. The same one he’d lent her back at the hospital. She wondered if he’d washed it, or if he had let the fading scent of her favorite perfume linger against his skin.

Before he spoke again, Keanu faltered, almost losing himself as he drank her in, tiny cotton shorts boasting her smooth, toned legs, the fabric of her top stretched across her chest and Emma's long, drying tresses swept over one shoulder, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. A wedding band that hung on a thin gold necklace settled against her skin, Keanu knew it was her father's, she'd mentioned when he asked if it belonged to someone else, someone like a husband. Remembering himself, Keanu took in a breath, trying to pull himself out of the trance that he'd fallen into, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Emma stepped back, pulling the door open a little more, “Your house, your bedroom,” she tried to return his smile, still feeling the tension between them, not sure if it was a good tense or a bad one.

“It’s your room,” Keanu countered, serious, though not harsh, “As long as you’re here with us, its your home too, and your room.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he bent his head, dark mane curtaining his handsome face, smile fading. “I think I owe you an apology,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “No, I know I owe you an apology.”

“Keanu-” Emma tried to stop him, though he cut her off, not the way he had the last time, that night, it was softer, as he pleaded with her to just hear him out.

“I really need to say this,” Keanu raised his head, his whiskey gaze meeting her hazel orbs, and he tentatively toed a step closer, “What I said the other night at the hospital, I was way out of line,” he sighed, going slow so so he wouldn’t fumble over his words, “What I’m trying to say now is; I know it wasn’t you that caused the reaction.”

“What?” Baffled, and immensely relieved, Emma felt a mountain of stress that she hadn’t known was there, rolling off her shoulders, “How?”

Chuckling dryly, Keanu shook his head, moistening his lips, “When I came home, and saw those cookies, I knew it couldn’t have been you. I mean, you bake, but not with organic peanut butter and almond milk. I had my suspicions back at the hospital, you probably know that list better than the back of your hand,” he raked his nails through his beard, “And then I asked Matt, and he told me that it was Miranda that made the cookies. So I'm really, really sorry, about all of that.”

“Oh,” the soft exhale left Emma’s parted lips, and truly, she couldn’t believe that she was actually getting an apology from her boss. Not sure of how to proceed, she gnawed on her lip for a second, “What’re you gonna do?”

Huffing, Keanu smirked, “Nothing. Knowing Mandy, she’d just deny it anyway. Besides, it was an accident,” If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn he sounded a little bitter.

“Thank you,” Emma smiled, happy when Keanu returned the gesture, “I know you didn’t have to apologize, but it means a lot to me that you did.”

“Uh, yeah,” grinning breathlessly, they lingered like that for a moment, until the air grew flustered, and Keanu noticed her wine glass on the nightstand and computer on the made bed, mumbling about how he should get out of her hair.

Though, when he was on his way out of Emma’s room, he absently grabbed his right shoulder, rubbing and rolling the joint, “You okay?” She halted him, “That looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah,” he winced, trying to downplay it, even if Emma could see right through his façade, “Went to the gym this morning, now I’m starting to think that my trainer was right when she said I’ve stayed away for too long. Nothing to worry about though, just a little sore.”

“Maybe I can help,” she had no idea where the suggestion came from, or why she hadn’t tried harder to keep it inside, but there was really no going back anyway. Clearing her throat, Emma blushed, “Why don’t you take off your jacket, and sit on the bed?”

Just as flustered, Keanu inhaled deeply, wanting to oblige, but not sure if he should, “You don’t have to-”

“I want too,” taking initiative, Emma approached him, leaning up on her toes, her eye line barely meeting the back of his neck as she urged his jacket off, folding it in half and draping it over the arm of an accent chair. His biceps strained against the sleeves and Emma swallowed the little flirtatious comment that sat at the tip of her tongue. “Sit, please. I insist.”

Nodding, Keanu went over to bed, sitting on the edge as instructed and then watching intently as Emma crawled up behind him. Her bare knees grazed him as she adjusted herself, and it wasn’t long before he felt her small hands on his shoulders, kneading slowly. Her fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure, and when she rubbed the base of her palms over them, the sensation was close to orgasmic, “Shit, Em…..” Keanu groaned, feeling the tension start dribbling away, “That is…..amazing.”

Giggling musically, she just carried on. The muscles beneath his t-shirt were far firmer than what she expected from someone his age, and touching him like that, seemed more intimate than Emma had intended. “That’s good, cause you are so tense. You’ve gotta take it easy Keanu,” she chuckled.

“I know, its just….I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he voice dropped lower as he closed his eyes, submitting to the pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d let someone take care of him like that, since someone even offered to take care of him like that, and not even Miranda’s touch felt that way, so warm and soothing. Keanu would be lying if he said he was okay with it ending. “I’m just glad I have you though.”

“Oh?” Emma slowed down, leaning forward so her unrestrained breasts were pressed against Keanu’s back when her face reached the side of his. By the time he turned to face her, their lips were a mere inch apart, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to just kiss him. “Well I’m glad I’m here for you,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his face.

“I need to ask you something,” Emma could have sworn that Keanu was leaning in, and his eyes searched hers, longing reflected.

Mesmerized, Emma barely registered his words, only anticipating what she thought might come next, “Okay.”

“I uh….” his gaze fell on her perfect, plump lips, “I was just wondering, would you go to Paris with me?” Her heart leapt and while it wasn’t the question she’d been hoping for, Emma was already excited, “With me and the kids I mean.” Suddenly, as fast as it was created, the moment was gone, and embarrassed, Emma pulled away, trying to refocus her attention of Keanu’s stiff shoulders, “I have to be there by next month for a premiere, and since I’m gonna be spending my birthday there, I thought I’d take Matt and Poppy too. Obviously, if you have other obligations here, I wouldn’t want you to leave them.”

Disappointed and confused, Emma’s response was void of enthusiasm, “No, no I don’t,” swallowing tightly, she tried not to cry, hoping her shame wasn’t audible, “I’d love to go, part of the job, right?”

Keanu took a minute before he responded, though, when he did, his somber tone seemed to reflected hers, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #nanny au #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves au #au

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chokemewanda · 4 years ago

Text

Part Seven - Hurting Me, Hurting You

Masterlist

Perfect Life Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, discussion of torture, dark!Bucky

Perfect is never real.

It ended the same way it had begun. Which was without warning. One minute you were scrubbing a casserole dish in some housewives apron the next you were sitting on the living room floor of an abandoned house.

You were back in your jeans and sweatshirt, knees clutched to your chest. You couldn't stop sobbing long enough to go up the stairs and see if there was actual children up there.

Bucky burst in the door, metal arm intact and leather jacket on instead of the overalls and white undershirt he had worn to work that morning.

"I think I'm going to be sick." You told him through sobs. "What the hell did she do to us?"

"The kids, did you check on the girls?" Bucky asked breathlessly like he'd run all the way over from the shop.

You shook your head, sniffling and he bolted up the stairs. When he reappeared there were two little girls on either of his hips and he tried to shush their crying.

You couldn't even look at them. They'd been some trivial conversation topic the last few weeks. Oh God you were actually going to puke.

You couldn't stop crying. All of your grief came back ten-fold and you wondered how you could've ever forgotten her. You had promised her.

You didn't even notice him coming back. You were borderline hysterical.

"You okay?" Bucky was sat on the bottom step of the stair case, forearms rested on his thighs and his head hung low so his hair covered his face.

"No." You answered shortly. "But I can't imagine how you're feeling."

"Me?" He asked, confused. He looked up, brow furrowed. "Just like you are, I bet."

"It felt awful. To forget, to pretend I was someone else. I know I had no choice and Wanda had probably been playing on our desires but for you to have beaten the hold Hydra had over you just for this to happen? Bucky I'm so sorry." You whispered, wiping your tears away roughly, frustrated when they wouldn't just stop.

He didn't speak, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed harshly. "Y/N there's something I need to tell you."

"I really don't like your tone right now." You looked up, eyes hard as he clenched his hands into fists.

"I-" He didn't say it but he didn't need to. From that one syllable you heard all of it.

"You knew." You nodded slowly, your arms wrapping tighter around your knees. "You knew what was going on and you did nothing to stop it."

"I tried, I talked to her. She told me to leave. She was going to put me outside the zone and I worried about what would happen." He tried and you scoffed.

"So you stayed and fucked me and made me the perfect little 40's housewife. You made sure I wouldn't remember because if I did you knew it would never happen." You hissed. "So you made me your little trophy wife and stole my grief from me."

"You didn't need it-" He tried to argue but you weren't having it.

"Of course I needed it! She was my soulmate and I was the only one left who didn't pretend that things were okay. I missed her and I honored her memory and I promised her that I wouldn't ever forget her! I promised her that as she slipped from my hold and plunged to her death just to fucking bring you all back!" You screamed.

"Baby, I'm-" He whispered and you looked up, eyes hard.

"I'm not your fucking baby. I'm not your stupid wife, I'm not even your friend right now. I just want you to leave me alone." You told him, running a hand down your face.

"Y/N, please." He sighed and you laughed, no humor behind it. You wanted to hurt him.

"Please what?" You asked, pushing yourself up from the floor. "What could you possibly think you have the right to ask me for? You want me to give us a try? You want me to pet your fragile fucking ego because life is tough for Bucky fucking Barnes?"

"No, it's, I didn't-" He stood up to, fighting to find the words to explain himself.

"Didn't what? Didn't mean to do to me what Hydra did to you? Except you didn't, did you? Because you knew Hydra was your enemy. I thought you were my friend." You spat.

"You initiated everything that happened between us." He argued and you laughed bitterly. He was on the defensive now that he knew you wouldn't give in.

"Every single line I used on you was from Wanda's script. I don't love you and I sure as fuck don't want to have your kids." You wanted to hurt him, to assure him that it never would have happened had you any control over the situation. "You were basically my fucking Handler. You were to me what Alexander Pierce was to you."

You could see it in his eyes, the explosive pain he felt at your words, he crumpled like a puppet who'd had his strings cut and you felt that awful satisfaction you had buried deep down after years of doing the wrong thing to hurt people on propose. You had never been that person with Natasha but she wasn't here now.

You had no one to protect you anymore. You were back to having to protect yourself.

"You could be pregnant." He tried and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm on birth control. Just because I was with a woman doesn't mean I wasn't." You sighed and raised your arm, pressing on the small implant. "Big changes since the forties. We're not all just waiting around for big strong men to come home and breed us."

"You're lying." He argued and finally stood up, the same anger you felt flashing in his eyes.

"Lying?" You scoffed. "I'd invite you over to feel it but I don't ever want your hands on my body again. So fuck you Bucky. You were right, Hydra did fuck you up beyond repair. Steve was right to leave you in the dust."

#bucky barnes #mcu #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky

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bangtanreadingcorner · 4 years ago

Text

despite it all • park jimin

chapter 2 — soft spot

plot – when you finally go to the bar on 17th street, it's not for help.

words – 3.1K

chapter 1

For a long time you thought you would never take Jimin up on his offer to go to the bar on 17th Street.

Then the day came that you did.

***

Things go back to normal for a few weeks after the night you helped Jimin. You go to work and for the most part it's easy to put that night out of your mind. Then there's the hours when you can't sleep or you don't have a shift, and it all comes rushing back. You visit your dad's grave and you tell him about Jimin, asking if he'd be mad at you for helping him. You don't talk to your mother, she never could forgive you for becoming a first responder.

Three weeks after that night, you get called to the scene of a gunshot victim in an alley. You and your partner Jeongguk immediately start to help him. Or you try to, at least. He's so young, no older than eighteen or nineteen.

"Come on, kid, hold on!" You mutter under your breath as you try to stop the bleeding. You look at Jeongguk, who looked at the victim with wide eyes, face pale. "Hey! Snap out of it! We need to get fluids in him, start a saline and blood line."

You work on him for almost fourty minutes before he's gone. Your gloved hands and shirt are drenched in blood. You sit back on your heels, a sense of defeat coming over you. You take a second to pull yourself together before you reach over to close his eyes, sending Jeongguk to get a blanket to cover him with, and that's when you see it.

The outline of a tattoo on the left side of his neck. Your blood runs cold and you hope that you're wrong. You reach out with shaky fingers, turning his head just a little, to get a full view of the tattoo. You suck in a deep breath when you see it.

A serpent.

You were right. This kid is in the same gang that Jimin is in.

"Funny, isn't it?" A voice asks above you.

You look up, and the badge around his neck tells you he's a cop. You frown slightly at him, "Who are you?"

"Detective Choi, Gang Unit."

"Well, Detective, I don't see anything funny about this situation." You are tempted to glare at the man.

"They spend their days breaking the law, hurting people and then expect to be helped when they get shot as a result of their own actions." He said, sneering down at the body.

"They're still people." You say, heart twisting at the man's careless words.

"Barely." The detective scoffed, looking down at the body with interest, pointing down at it. "But this one. He was important."

You don't understand what a kid has to do with all of this as you frown crossly up at the detective. "He's just a kid."

"Yeah, but he's a Park." The detective says, a glint of excitement in his eyes. It makes anger stir inside of you. "Park Jihyun, in fact. Second in line to the most dangerous gang in the province."

"So, what? Because of that he doesn't deserve to live?" You scoff in disbelief as Jeongguk returns and start to cover the body. Before the press could arrive and take pictures and videos for the six o'clock news.

The detective shrugs, "I'm just saying, no one will cry over his death."

"You just said he has a family. I'm sure they will." You remind him.

The Detective shakes his head, "No, they're not gonna cry. They're gonna go to war."

"And what? You're going to use the war to catch his brother? While he's grieving? Seems a little cold." You say as you push to your feet. You could see Jeongguk frowning as he looked back and forth between you and the detective.

"I figured I'd give them a taste of their own medicine."

"Are you going to tell that to his brother when you notify him?" You retort, mentally yelling every kind of curse you could possible think of at him.

"I'm not going to tell him."

Your mouth drops open in shocked disbelief, appalled by the detective. "What? You have too. You're bound by law."

"They don't follow the law. Why should I extend them that courtesy?" He shrugs.

"Because his family will be worried sick! And you're a cop!" You exclaim, voice rising a little.

"I'm counting on it." The detective grins before walking away.

You clench your hands into fists, an overwhelming urge to hit the detective coming over you. You look at Jeongguk, who still seemed out of it. You frown at him, he's never reacted like this to seeing someone being shot before. "Hey, are you okay, Jeongguk?"

"Yeah," He nods quickly, a little too quick, but you don't say anything. "Just, his family . . .

they deserve to know."

"They do." You agree immediately. "And I'm going to make sure they find out."

Jeongguk's head whips to you, curious and kind of relieved. "How?"

"I know this guy, he's in the same gang as the kid is, or was."

For a second, Jeongguk looks amused. "You know a guy in a gang."

"Shut up." You feel you're cheeks burn, suddenly feeling shy. "And yes, I do. His name is Jimin and I helped him out once. He told me that if I ever need something to go to the bar on 17th Street. I may not need something, but I figure he would probably be able to tell Jihyun's family."

You turn to Jeongguk, who went quiet by your side. His eyes was open wide again, but this time there was a sliver of fear in them. "A guy named Jimin, who is in the same gang as the kid with a bar on 17th Street?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing." Jeongguk all but squeaks, shaking his head furiously, eyes still wide.

You side eye him, "You're judging me for doing this, aren't you? Meh. Whatever. They deserve to know. I'm telling them."

***

After your shift, you immediately go to the bar on 17th Street. It was a nice, casual kind of place. On another day, you could see yourself having a drink there. You look around and you don't see Jimin, so you head to the bar to ask for him.

The bartender is tall and buff. And gives off a scary vibe with his tattoos and the emotionless expression on his face. You notice the same serpent tattoo Jimin has on his neck, on the bartender's forearm. This guy is probably your best bet on finding Jimin.

"Uh, hi, I'm looking for Jimin." You blurt at the bartender, who is busy wiping down the counter. You feel a flush rising on your cheeks. That sounded so demanding.

"Who's asking?" The bartender asks without look

"Y/N."

That gets the bartender's attention. He stops wiping the counter and looks at your with sparkling eyes, a boxy smile breaking the blank look on his face, making him look more like a puppy as he shakes his curls out of his eyes, "So, you're Y/N."

You're caught off guard by the fact that he seems to know you. It makes you a little defensive, "What does that mean?"

"It's means you're the girl, or woman, who saved Jimin." He says, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

Your cheeks heat up even more, "I didn't save him, just helped him out."

"The cops and the gang who he went after by himself, like the dumbass he is, was after him. If he was alone that night, he would have been killed. Or worse." The bartender tells you, restarting his task of wiping the counter, but there's only one thing that registers in your mind.

"I helped a fugitive?" You yelp, feeling your heart stutter in shock.

The bartender frowned at you, "I thought Jimin said you know who he is."

"I know he's in a gang."

The bartender stops in wiping the counter, looking at you with scarily serious eyes. "Y/N, Jimin isn't in the gang, he leads the gang."

Your mouth drops open and it feels dry. "I helped a gang leader, who is also a fugitive?"

"Aren't you one for the history books." Taehyung notes with a boxy grin.

"Not exactly something I'd like to be remembered for." You tell him, legs feeling weak all of a sudden.

"Eh, apples, oranges." The bartender shrugged, putting down his cloth. "I love strawberries, by the way. Anyway, my name is Taehyung. I'm Jimin's best friend and second in command, in case you were wondering. You said you're looking Jimin right? Well, he's busy right now, but he did say to call him right away if you ever come, so, I'll go get him for you."

And with that, the bartender - Taehyung - disappeared. You looked after him in bewilderment, "What the fuck?"

Less than five minutes later, Jimin walked out from the door where Taehyung disappeared into. He looked different from the last time you saw him. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a black polo neck sweater and a black leather jacket. He looked more dangerous than when he was covered in blood. More attractive, too. You very carefully cut that train of thought off before it could grow roots. You watched as everyone in the bar eyed Jimin, but also gave him a wide berth.

When he stopped infront of you, his features softened ever so slightly. You frowned down at his clenched, bloodied fists, "Have you been punching people again?"

"Punching people is in my job description." Jimin answered, jaw visibly tensed. He looked at you, and you could tell right then that something is very wrong. "You are always welcome here, Y/N, but right now I'm a little busy. One of my men has been taken and I am trying to find him."

You face falls and suddenly a lot of things make sense. "I think . . . I think I might know where he is."

Confusion falls over Jimin's face, "You? How could you know?"

"I had a call today. Gunshot victim in an alley. He had that tattoo-" You point to Jimin's neck, where his serpent tattoo is. "And I wanted to come and tell you. I mean, I didn't know if you know everyone in your gang, I didn't every know that it is your gang, until Taehyung told me just now, but I just wanted to tell you in case you knew him."

Jimin looks at you with wide eyes, a spark of light returning to those cold eyes. "What did he look like?"

"Uh, he was young. I didn't really notice much else, sorry. I was trying to save his life." You tell Jimin, and then something occurs to you. "Wait, one of the detectives on the scene told me his name. I don't know how they know but-"

"His name." Jimin interrupted, a little sharp, but there was an urgency to his voice.

"Uh. Jihyun. Park Jihyun." You tell him, watching as Jimin both deflate and light up in the span of five seconds. You almost get whiplash with how quick his mood changes.

"What hospital did you take him too?" Jimin asks eagerly, hopefully.

You heart twists, knowing that you're the one who has to break that hope. You soften your voice, making it as gentle as possible. "Jimin, we didn't. We tried our best, but we couldn't save him. By the time we got there, he had already lost too much blood. I am so sorry."

Jimin's expression shutters and it makes you feel like someone punched you in the gut. He takes a breath before saying, "Thank you for coming to tell me. And thank you for trying to save him."

Jimin walks away and you want to stop him, to comfort him somehow, but you don't because it's not your place.

You turn to Taehyung, who looks so incredibly sad it broke your heart a little. You know you should leave but you can't just put leave without at least trying to help. "Are you okay, Taehyung?"

"No," He shakes his head, fiddling with the cloth he used to wipe the bar down earlier. "But I will be."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, actually." He says, surprising you pleasantly. You thought he would refuse your offer. Your heavy heart lifts a little, happy to help, and you nod at Taehyung, indicating to him to tell you what he wants you to do. He looks at you for a long while and it makes you fidget a little. He's not going to ask you to hurt someone, right? You sincerely hoped not. Finally he spoke and you could have never guessed what came out his mouth next. "Jimin is going to come to you. I don't know when, but he will. I don't know what exactly happened between you and him the night you saved him, but it changed something in him. He's been different since that night and it's because of you. So, he'll come to you and seek comfort and when he does, I only ask one thing."

You swallow thickly, having no idea what to do with everything Taehyung just dumped on you. "And what is that?"

"Please be gentle with him. People think he's dangerous and fearsome, and he is. For the most part he really is, but that's not all he is. Underneath that, he has the biggest heart. A heart he usually keeps hidden and locked far away, but somehow, you made it past all of his defences in a night. And right now, his heart is hurting badly."

You give Taehyung a strange look, thinking that he must be reading something wrong somewhere because you and Jimin didn't spend that much time together. Maybe two hours. How could that have been enough time to get past his defences, as Taehyung said? "Uh, I think you might be exaggerating the situation but okay. If it will make you feel better. I promise to be gentle with him. Whatever that means."

Taehyung was visibly relieved by your sincere promise. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." You waved him off. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No." Taehyung smiles, small and much dimmer than the bright boxy grin he gave you earlier, but just as true. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"See what?" You look curiously at him.

"Why Jimin has a soft spot for you." He answers nonchalantly.

You very almost choke on thin air. "I helped him out once and told me he'd return the favour. That does not mean he has a soft spot for me."

"Yes, he does. Have you not been listening to a word I've said?" Taehyung all but demanded, placing his hands on his hips.

"I'm listening," You give him a slight smile. "Still working on believing."

"Well, believe it." Taehyung huffs. "Earlier, when you came in and asked for Jimin and I went to get him? He was busy, uh . . ." Taehyung trails off, unsure how much Jimin wants her to know. He knows better than to outright lie though. He settles on a word that is both discreet and understandable. "He was interrogating a guy for answers about Jihyun's whereabouts. You are the only person on this planet I was allowed to interrupt that interrogation for."

"He did say to come anytime I want." You defend, feeling heat creeping up your cheeks again.

Taehyung looks like your words just proves his point. "Exactly."

You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that you won't be able to change his mind. You glance in the direction where Jimin went and your mood deflates, "You think he's going to be okay?"

"I don't know." Taehyung admits honestly, eyes lingering on the door.

"I have this foreboding feeling that this is the calm before the storm." You say, nodding in the direction where Jimin went. "He was too quiet when I told him the news, but I could see the grief in his eyes. Was he close to the guy who was killed?"

"Very." Taehyung nods. "Jihyun is, or was, Jimin's brother."

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your feet as the last pieces of the puzzle fit together. You should have realised, the detective told you Jihyun's brother is the leader of the gang and Taehyung told you Jimin leads the gang. "Oh my God."

"Yeah." Taehyung nods, biting his lip.

"I can't imagine how Jimin must feel right now." You say, wanting nothing but to barge through those doors and go hug Jimin.

"I think it helps that it came from you, instead of the police. Those smug bastards would have just rubbed his nose in it." Taehyung says with a distasteful look on his face.

"Why would they do that?" You ask, deciding not to tell Taehyung that the police wasn't even planning on telling Jimin at all.

"Because we're in a gang. Although, they can't proof anything against us. Especially against Jimin. They don't know much, but they know he's our leader. He took over from his dad when he retired, when Jimin was twenty-one. Which really pisses them off." Taehyung looked a little smug over that fact.

"I get that. I mean, my dad was a cop, before he died in the crossfire of a gang war. I was seventeen at the time, so I can still remember how he would get angry or frustrated when he couldn't solve a case or find evidence to prove his case."

"Sorry about your dad." Taehyung says, looking like he actually means it.

It makes you smile a little, "It's okay. I mean, it still hurts like hell sometimes, but they found the guy who pulled the trigger and he's spending the rest of his life in jail."

"Want me to take him out for you?" Taehyung offers. "We got a couple of guys in prison and I'm sure Jimin wouldn't mind."

"No, absolutely not!" You exclaim with wide eyes, heartbeat kicking up its pace as panic shoots through you for a second. "Jesus Christ, first Jimin and now you. What is wrong with you two?"

Taehyung's eyes get a wicked gleam and you somehow know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "We're-"

"In a gang, yeah, I know. That isn't an excuse." You sigh, running a hand over your face. A heaviness settles around your heart. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Taehyung shrugs. "But probably."

"Great." You mutter. Better stock up the ambulance then.

***

chapter 3

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it!

#bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bts fic #park jimin #jimin #bts jimin #park jimin x oc #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #jimin imagine #jimin x oc #jimin x you #jimin x reader

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what-the--curtains · 5 years ago

Text

Braving the Elements

Chapter 10: Night out

Tw: drinking, underage drinking, swearing

Authors notes: YALL GET 2 today

(Playing when you enter the club)

(Playing when you dance with Bucky)

Tony had given you all a week off to train while he worked on locating Romans houses. After the third day of intense training you were all starting to look drained and were becoming increasingly irritated with each other.

“THAT’S IT! We need a night off or I’m gonna lose it!” you yell from the gym floor where you had been lying out of breath for the past 5 minutes. “This is non-negotiable! Wanda you always wanted to come along when I’d sneak out to college parties now’s the time!”

“Well obviously I’m in.” Nat says which had Steve agreeing quickly ,

“Don’t have to tell me twice” Sam says. Bucky nods in agreement saying he was feeling pent up (whatever that meant). You finally got Wanda to agree which led to Vision joining as well. Peter and Shuri had whined so much that you ended up saying you could get them in much to Steve's dismay

“Oh come on captain no fun let loose!” Nat says slapping a hand on his back

“Fine, but they CANNOT drink” he says

“Gee thanks guys! Cool if I invite MJ and Ned as well?”

“Ya, sure, no problem.” You respond

You Nat and Wanda were all getting ready together. Doing your hair and makeup, and gossiping before going out was slowly becoming a tradition of yours.Nat’s wearing a corseted dress with a leather jacket and thigh high black boots. Wanda’s put on a sheer black t-shirt over a black lace bra pairing it with high waisted red jeans. She's topped it off with a white, faux-fur cropped jacket and red heels. You settled on a halter v-neck bodysuit, light blue jean shorts and fishnets with white knee high, healed boots and a tasseled tan jacket. You were all ready earlier than everyone else so you could get the younger ones in. You meet up with them at the front of the club at around 10:30PM.

“Hey kiddies” you say waving to Peter and his friends.

The owner appears at the door exclaiming “(Y/N) darling! you’re back! What hole did you crawl out of looking like hell on wheels?” before embracing you.

“So you know him?” Nat asks

“Ya, how else do you think I’m sneaking a bunch of teenagers in?” you say, ushering everyone inside.

“Just remember, no drinking.” Nat says sternly to the group of teens, who all nod in agreement.

“If you do it when we can’t see, it doesn’t count” you whisper to Shuri and she smiles

“This is so sick” MJ pipes up as the owner shape shifts into a new form.

“Cool!” Ned , Peter and Shuri say in unison, before heading off to take in the atmosphere of the club.

Wanda smirks “Mutant club?” she asks

“Mutant club.” you respond

“Alright! First rounds on the house for you and your lovely friends” the owner says.

The boys showed up about an hour later which was more than enough time for all three of you to get tipsy. When they enter your eyes are once again immediately drawn to Bucky. He’s pulled his hair back into a loose bun and is wearing a black t-shirt that was just loose enough to conceal what you knew to be a chiseled torso. He'd paired it with dark jeans that he filled out very nicely in the back leading you to wonder if the same was true for the front.

“This place is SICK” Sam yells over the noise

“I know right!” you yell back “Finally back with my people!” you gesture to the crowd before offering him and Steve a shot. You all find your way to a booth near the back and continue to talk with people going out to dance intermediately. On your way back from the bathroom you bump into an old friend of yours.

“Jean!” you shout over the music

“Y/N?” she yells back

“Holy shit! I can’t believe you’re here!” you say embracing her

“Ya, we just finished up a mission in the city, figured we’d come and celebrate!” she responds

“What are you up to these days?”

“Well I’ve recently joined the Avengers.”

Jean laughs before realising you're serious, “Oh my god you went full on good guy? About time!”

You both laugh “Come join us!“ you say and Jean nods before going to grab the rest of your old school friends.

“Wanda!” You yell sitting down next to her “Jeans here!”

“No way! Class reunion!” she shouts downing the last of her drink and slamming her glass down on the table. Sam leans in and asks if any of your old friends are hot causing you to laugh before pushing him away from you.

Jean comes back with Scott, Rogue, Gambit, Alex, and Storm

“(y/n)” Alex draws out your name slowly with fake disbelief “Alex Summers.” you say pointing at him then patting the spot next to you.

“How the hells it going?” he asks, sitting down and giving you his award winning smile

“Oh you know me staying saved doing god's mission” you reply dryly, causing him to laugh

“ Well you really must have changed since.. “ he starts before you punch him in the arm, laughing.

Bucky sees Alex whisper something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. His jaw clenches. He didn’t know why he was so upset by the thought of someone else making you laugh, but he was. Maybe he should just move on. Move on from what? he thinks we aren’t even anything.

Sam leans over to you and says “You seen Nat and Steve? they’ve been dancing all night and not in a very all American way.”

“ Do you think they’re gonna fuck?” you say louder than you wanted to quickly covering your mouth.

“ You always had a way with words even at school” Alex laughs as Peter comes up to tell you that they're going to head out.

“Hey Storm! You should meet my friend Sam!” you say before continuing on the conversation with the x-men. You find out that Jean and Scott are still going as strong as ever, Rogue and Gambit have (finally) gotten married and Alex has settled down and is currently seeing someone.

After another half-hour or so the x-men decide to get going with Storm taking a very happy Sam with her. “Hey be gentle with him, you call after her!” Steve slaps his hand down on the table, declaring that more drinks were needed.

“C’mon Buck let’s get em.” he says, pulling his friend up as Wanda and Vision get up to go dance.

“Soooooo.” You slur swinging your head towards Nat “You and Mr. America?” you inquire wiggling your eyebrows

“Oh shut it, ya I like him and he’s got a great body so I am definitely shooting my shot tonight.” she says with a grin

“Well, no one could resist you in that get up!” you say fanning yourself

“How about you? That Alex guy was pretty hot.”

“Ya he is we used to date back at school, but he’s got a partner now so guess I’m shit outta luck!” you pout.

“C’mon there’s got to be someone here for you. How about Buck? He seems like he’d be a good time and based on the number of women I’ve seen leaving his room he’s experienced!”

“You know I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing those eyes looking up from between my thighs.” you say dreamily causing Nat to raise her eyebrows. The conversation ends when the two boys return with several shots which you all polish off. Nat pulls Steve up to go dance, leaving you and Bucky alone together. You scoot closer to him so you can hear him better, stopping when your thigh presses up against his.

“So I hear you,” you say, pausing to tap him on the tip of his nose, a gesture which he found extremely endearing “use to be a swell dancer.”

“Ya, not to this modern stuff though, but this," he says as the song changes to something with a bit more swing, "this I can dance to". Grabbing you by the hand he pulls you onto the dance floor. Lining up his hand with yours and placing his metal hand on your side pulling you closer to him.

“ So you and that Alex guy, you used to go out or something?” Bucky asks, not so subtly, as he twirls you so you're no longer facing him, wrapping his arms around you tightly and swaying you back and forth. You laugh “I guess you could call it that but he’s with someone now, so too bad for me!” Bucky feels a sense of relief, although a pang of jealousy does hit him upon realizing that you had been thinking about someone else throughout the night. He spins you out and pulls you back to face him.

“Steve was right, you are good at this'' you say, gazing up at him. He lets his hand drop slightly below your waist perching it on the curvature of your backside, smiling when you don’t make him move it. As the song ends he dips you and brings you back into him. You’re now just inches away from each other, both of you breathing heavily. Then out the corner of your eye you see Wanda and Vision making out. You push yourself off of his chest and cheer to no one before turning him around to see the scene. Laughing softly and feeling less dejected by the fact you had pushed yourself away from him he says “On that note, I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Wait!” You shout “I’m coming with you!” You snatch up your purse and pull on your jacket before following him towards the exit.

“Leaving so soon?” the owner asks slightly disappointed

“Oh come on don’t cry I'll be back!” you say hugging him and planting a small kiss on his cheek. Bucky looks away when you do this not wanting to see your lips on another person. You quickly walk back to him and he offers you his arm causing you to look up at him and smile. The look on your face makes his heart skip a beat

#bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky x you #avengers fanfiction #braving the elements #bucky barnes slow burn #bucky barnes #Spotify

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