#It also had me going up and down on ladders to grab materials since I convinced the professor to let our class stay late and work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Floorboards (Pt. VI)

(Technoblade X Reader) Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI, Pt. VII

You had barely gotten any sleep that night, it was a shitty time to not sleep but you couldn’t control insomnia. Most nights it was Techno who was the insomniac, he would spend hours laying awake just staring at you waiting for the voices to quiet down for the night. He was in awe of your beauty and grace, and the nighttime moonlight only ever enhanced those features. You couldn’t help but understand what he was talking about as you stared at his features in the moonlight darkness of your room. His hair was out of its typical braid and framed his head like a pink halo, you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you tucked his hair behind his ear. The tension in his brow released feeling your touch brush against his skin and you smiled adoringly at the sight. His nose nuzzles up against your neck and your smile split into a wide grin, god he was so soft. You felt his fingers spread out against the small of your back and pull you flush against him, his breathing changed and you frowned.

You didn’t expect anything less than the blood god to be a light sleeper. He always needed to be on his feet, ready for any attack.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and he made a tired noise of confirmation.

“It’s okay,” He yawned and it echoed across the walls of the house like a lion’s roar. “It’s rare when you can’t sleep, what’s on your mind?” Technoblade shifted a little so he could get a good look at you in his arms, he could never get over how small you were in comparison to him. You flipped on your back much to his displeasure and dragged your hands down your face; a sigh came from your nose before you answered,

“Thinking about tomorrow is all. Just nervous, typical stuff I think, I don’t trust Dream fully. He gives me bad vibes.” You said honestly, your (e/c) eyes staring up at the ceiling even from the angle Techno was looking at you he could tell they were sad. God, he wasn’t good at comforting people things like this made him feel like such a shitty person.

“I don’t trust him either. But, we have mutual goals and a mutual understanding both of which are hard to come by.” He explained briefly looking thoughtful, “the bottom line is this needs to happen. I don’t want you to worry because Phil and I will have your back no matter what, we look out for each other.” You flopped on top of him and he let out a grunt of displeasure,

“I’m worried about you dummy.”

“Technoblade never dies baby what are you on about?” He let out a laugh as you rested your elbows on his chest, his hands found themselves on your back holding you close. He watched you roll your eyes dramatically and pinch at his ears, he clicked his tongue at you. “Keep pinching my ears like that and we’re gonna have to fight it out,” his lips twitched into a fond smile as you sat upon his hips holding up your fists.

“Then let’s fight cause I’m not gonna stop. They’re just too pinchable big guy. Your little piglin features are precious and I’m gonna dote over them.” His face burned red and he groaned loudly, his head landing against the pillows with a thump.

“It’s just the ears, teeth, and the height. You’re being gross.”

“Fuck you I’m being romantic.”

“Which is gross and cringe if you didn’t know.”

“Fine then I guess you won’t be getting any kisses from me for a long while.”

“Now hold on a minute let's talk about this like adults,” You laughed loudly and smirked at Techno’s attempts to keep cool about the situation. You leaned down and peppered his face with light kisses, he hummed pleasantly at the sensation.

“I’ll let it slide this time but watch your words.” Techno gave a sleepy nod of his head, and you smiled tenderly at the man. You shuffled around and curled up against his side, he adjusted himself to hold you close, “I love you Techno.”

“Love you too princess.” He pecked your forehead before he closed his eyes and fell back into a light sleep. You took a deep breath and buried your face in his chest listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, this time however you weren’t far behind him.

~~~

Technoblade was up as soon as the sun rose over the hills and spilled into your bedroom. He made sure to maneuver around you so that he wouldn’t wake you as soon as he sat up in bed. He stretched his arms behind his back until he heard the satisfying pop of his bones, he scratched at his head and tousled his pink hair. Techno wanted an early start, make sure everything they needed for the day was prepared and ready to go, he needed to brew a shit ton of potions. He also needed to make sure you had an appropriate set of armor, that’s not even mentioning the Withers he needed to gather. A lot to do and so little time to get it all done, he wanted to let you sleep as much as possible considering you didn’t sleep last night. He slid out of bed and grabbed his hairbrush, one thing he could attribute to meeting you was his hygiene habits. Techno always used to keep his hair in a braid and never touch it, it wasn’t until you had first run your hands through his hair that he realized how much of a problem that was. You were very nice about it but he could tell you were trying not to gag when he told you he couldn’t remember the last time it was unbraided. You assured him that was going to change and helped him nurse his hair back to life, whatever you did it was magical. His hair was just as soft as yours, healthy and shiny he couldn’t let you down by not taking care of it. However, since he was going into battle he threw his hair into a quick braid letting it fall over his shoulder before he majestically sat his crown on top of his head.

Technoblade stared at himself in the mirror and traced his rough hands over the scars on his face and neck, he had no idea what the fuck you saw in him. Honestly, who cares though because by some miracle you love him for him and that’s all that matters. Technoblade continued to get dressed for the day and only stopped when you began to stir under the covers. He watched you sit up and give the cutest yawn he’s ever heard in his life his eyes softened considerably seeing you look around hazily for him. Spotting him you opened your arms and made grabby hands, he let out a deep chuckle and wrapped his arms around you.

‘Simp. Stop spamming simp. He is a simp though, look at him melt. Shut up.’

“Chat shut it...Morning Princess,” He kissed your lips softly and he felt you lazily kiss him back, still sluggish from sleep.

“Morning Bubs. Why didn’t you wake me up?” You complained from his arms only pulling away to look him in the eyes. He always thought you had the most gorgeous eyes, why was he feeling so lovey-dovey today?

‘Cause, you could lose her today. Her lives are unknown. What if she only has one like Phil and has no idea and she dies? E.’

Those thoughts and ideas chilled him to the bone he swallowed thickly, “You sure I can’t change your mind about today?” He watched your brow furrow and you kissed your teeth,

“No way. Till the end of the line remember?”

“Oh, I remember. In that case,” Technoblade pulled you to your feet much to your surprise, “You come back to me uninjured, we get married.” He watched your jaw drop and your eyes widen to insane sizes. “If you want obviously, no pressure.”

‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU. AWWWWW SO ROMANTIC! SIMP. SHE’S GOING TO SAY NO. LOSER. CRINGE. GUYS STOP HE’S BEING SWEET!’

He felt panic surge through him when you didn’t respond to him for a good few minutes, oh he fucked up. Technoblade never dies, more like Technoblade’s about to throw himself into lava three fucking times.

“Yes! Holy shit yes you idiot! Damn now that’s some motivation!” You laughed in disbelief and you bounced on your toes. Technoblade let out a breath of relief, he took a risk and it paid off, he was Technoblade after all so of course, it did. He wasn’t worried at all. You grabbed the fluff of his cape and pulled him down to kiss him passionately, his hands grabbed your hips and lifted you into the air. He knew it wasn’t official yet, as he said you had to come back okay, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate at least a little bit early. He kissed down your face and listened as you giggled, he could tell your face was turning red by its heat, “Okay goober we gotta get ready. There are crimes we gotta commit and I still need to shower.”

“Nonsense you smell like lavender and’ all that other girly stuff.” Technoblade scoffed but pulled away as you requested. A smile fell across your face and he felt you poke his nose fondly, “I’ll be gathering potion materials, if you need me just holler.” On that note, he headed down the ladder to gather what he needed for the day. Phil would probably be joining momentarily and he’d put him on potion making duty and also give him a totem of undying. His stomach churned a little as he placed water bottles inside the brewing stands, his singular totem of undying.

He had already decided he’d give it to Phil, if he didn’t he felt like it would be a betrayal of all the man had done for him in the past.

Technoblade turned towards the window and saw Phil approaching his home from the sky, he opened the window and gave him a little wave. Phil smiled back at him and climbed the stairs to get inside the house, “Hello. Are you both ready for today?” Phil looked around seemingly trying to spot you, Technoblade pointed upstairs and he nodded in understanding.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ready exactly.” He let out a huff, “I’m trying to make triple the potions before Dream gets here, plus I wanna make sure (Y/N)’s weapons and armor are enchanted properly.” Phil hummed thoughtfully opening up some of Technoblade’s chests, only mentally gagging at the disorganization.

“I got your back brewing the potions, go double-check everything’s ready for (Y/N), I know you worry ‘bout her mate.” Techno had to turn away because he felt heat flare in his face, he heard Phil begin to snicker and he glowered.

“Imagine thinking I care about others, cringe.”

“Oh really? I’ll just go tell (Y/N) that then-”

“Eh? No need to do that. I don’t appreciate being framed. Anyway, potions Phil, potions you need to focus on what’s important here.” Another laugh came from Phil as he rolled his eyes fondly at his friend.

“On it Techno.”

Both men got to work brewing potions and double-checking weaponry, not just for you but for all of them. Well, all of you minus Dream the homeless man can fend for himself. In the meantime, Technoblade gave Phil his totem of undying just in case today went fucking wrong.

“Alright boys, what do you need me to do?” You announced climbing down the ladder, you had made sure your hair was out of the way so it wouldn’t be a distraction. Technoblade smiled as he watched the emerald he gave you those months ago bounce against your neck.

“Go make sure you have enough ender pearls and exp bottles for your armor. Is all your armor enchanted properly?”

“Obviously,” You rolled your eyes dramatically “as if you’d ever let me get away with subpar armor.” Technoblade held up his hands in defensively,

“Just making sure. You can’t blame me for wanting you protected.”

“Daw.”

“Shut up Phil.” Technoblade watched a smile form across your face as you covered your mouth with your hand. He was just happy you were laughing, “grab your weapons lemme check them.” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek tenderly, he normally wasn’t one for PDA but Phil was a different story. You handed over your weapons to him and he looked over them, he started with your sword that was aptly titled The Wanderer’s Trade all the enchantments seemed to line up properly, he also double-checked your ax to see it lined up too. “Remember their shields go up you use your ax.” He watched as you nodded in response, you weren’t dumb he knew that but he couldn’t help but want to double-check strategies with you.

“I know you trained me well,” You hummed fondly, as he handed you back your ax. He watched as you twirled it in your hands, “Good ole’ Foster Mom won’t let me down.” Both Phil and Techno chuckled at your response, Technoblade gave you a loving pat on the head before sending you off to gather some more glowstone. The three of you spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies, and as the afternoon rolled around Technoblade felt himself grow more and more frantic as the time ticked closer to doomsday. He began to ramble a bit about needing to prepare things especially after Dream showed up early and announced they were going early into L’manberg. Dream explained that he was going to need about twenty minutes to prepare the TNT for the cannons, which meant (Y/N), Phil, and Technoblade himself needed to stall for that amount of time.

That meant the Withers needed to be in play.

Technoblade distributed Wither skulls and the soul sand between the three of you.

He watched as you stared at the skull in your hands gently cradling it before putting it into your inventory. He hoped you were being honest and were okay with what was about to happen.

“Now we really have to go.” Dream tried to urge your little group to speed up and get this show on the road. Techno nodded his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth,

“Alright, first things first let we need to get the hound army.” He watched your entire face come alight,

“Hound army? You didn’t tell me we had puppies!” He felt you grip his arm with the enthusiasm of a child, he winced a little bit at your eagerness. Techno glanced at Dream who was just as unreadable as always with his mask but Techno could sense his patience with you running thin.

“I didn’t wanna tell you cause there’s a good chance we lose like all of them today.” He watched you deflate but nod in understanding, “so don’t get attached okay?”

“I won’t!”

“Let’s go. Time’s ticking.” Dream commanded tapping his boots on the floor, “Let’s get those dogs and get to L’manberg.” The four of you grabbed your weapons and headed down the steps of Technoblade’s house, hopefully, you all will come back to see it again.

---

Phil walked by your side as Technoblade led all of you through the sewers, Dream was close to your boyfriend’s side almost like he was trying to memorize the proper twists and turns. However, something told you he already knew this place like the back of his hand.

“What’s on your mind?” Phil asked you to keep his voice low to not draw attention to yourselves. Smiling over at him you gave a thoughtful hum,

“Just the typical worries I suppose. Hoping we win and no one who we care about dies, like the kids you know. I know I can’t control you, Techno, or Dream but if it came down to it I won’t be able to hurt them.” The look you gave him was nothing less than vulnerable and it touched his heart with a soft sigh he responded to you,

“I know it’s not specifically in Techno or my agenda to slaughter Tommy and Tubbo. We just want to take down the corrupt government that’s poisoning its citizens. As long as it stands those kids can never be happy.”

“I’m with you there. Hell, I don’t think Techno and I could date if we didn’t share those ideologies. They made a child president for Pete’s sake I mean no wonder it’s falling apart.” You took a deep breath and nudged the old man beside you. “Even so my priorities are with you and Technoblade. We’re all fucking coming home if I have any say in the matter,” Phil gave a laugh and smiled at you.

“That’s a fucking relief to hear. Wasn’t aware you could control death.”

“Says the man with a totem of undying.”

“Guys we’re here,” Technoblade called standing beside a wall, he looked at all of you and opened the stone with his pickaxe. “Meet the hounds,” He mused leading you inside, you were trying desperately to keep your excitement at bay.

“Holy shit is it loud.” Dream commented with a disbelieving laugh hearing all the dogs bark in excitement upon seeing their master. Technoblade scratched a few of them behind the ears before commanding all of them to stand, it was insane.

“That’s so many dogs they’re gonna be so confused.” You commented,

“You know what you should do?” Dream mused, turning to look at you, “splash them with invisibility.”

“Already ahead of you,” Technoblade mused as Philza began to splash a good chunk of them. “They’re gonna be so confused it’s gonna be so funny. When they get hit by nothing, it’ll be like I have a forcefield.”

“Let's get to L’manberg and surprise them first.” Dream motioned for all of you to follow, and you did without hesitation. Technoblade took your hand and squeezed it tightly, he watched as Phil and Dream went on ahead and he turned to give you a soft kiss.

“Don’t die on me, okay princess? You get into trouble protecting yourself, run if you have to. I don’t give a shit I just want you alive.” Technoblade commanded you, even wagged a finger in front of your face. A finger you grabbed and pressed a soft kiss to,

“Same to you. I’ll see you on the other side.” Technoblade smiled adoringly at you and you both moved to catch up with Dream and Phil. You pulled out The Wanderer’s Trade and made sure Foster Mom, your ax, and the materials to craft your Withers were at the ready.

“(Y/N), Phil when I shoot fireworks into the sky start spawning the Withers. I’m going straight in with the hounds.” He watched both of you nod, Dream let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“Sounds good to me. Remember I shouldn’t need more than twenty minutes, I’ll send Technoblade the signal.”

“Yes sir.” You gave a teasing salute and no one else seemed amused by that except for the green man himself.

“I could get used to that.”

“Get the fuck out of here you homeless Teletubby.” Techno almost snarled at the man, while the man in question flipped your boyfriend off. Even Phil could tell he had a sickening smirk spread across his face, whether he meant it or not if it bothered the three of you he was gonna continue with it.

“Phil, I’ll sneak over to the houses, you gonna stay in this general vicinity?” You quickly changed the subject, the man nodded in response.

“I’ll probably stay on top of the bee sanctuary, I figure two people in the air and one on the ground will be a good call.” You nodded taking one last glance at Technoblade before sneaking off to prepare the high ground.

---

Technoblade sprinted right into the battle once everyone realized you all were there early. He felt the pressure begin to build in his head, as the voices began to buzz with excitement, they all demanded blood and vengeance. He wasn’t losing any lives today but that didn’t mean anyone else was, it was hilarious the moment he hit anyone his dogs would be at their heels tearing them apart. He stayed on top of everyone, he made sure to keep an eye on his hearts while slicing through his opponents. As they got distracted by his dogs he would come up behind them and drive his sword into their chest. His laughter echoed in the air as the names of the dead appeared in his head, he heard their pleading for a cease-fire and decided he didn’t give a single shit. Technoblade couldn’t find the energy to care for their pleas, even as his dogs began to thin rapidly. There was blood and there was pandemonium and he was living for it, sure there were a few close calls. Not that he would ever admit it, but Sapnap got him good in the shoulder and the back of the leg, almost leaving an opening for him to land a finishing blow. However, he recovered with no problem, he always did, obviously.

Technoblade booked it away from the fighting and sent the firework rocket into the sky. Almost as soon as he did, he set up his own Wither. The entire battlefield glowed red, white, and blue and he watched people’s faces morph into absolute terror. He heard what sounded like Tommy let out a terrified scream, he had no idea what he was in for if he was afraid of one Wither. Then again, Tommy was the only one who knew about the vault so realistically he shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was up to Phil and (Y/N) now.

“Is that Phil? What the hell?! He’s spawning a Wither!” Someone shouted and Technoblade’s face lit up in delight. He watched Phil send out his Withers before flying away as to not immediately get targeted by them. Technoblade turned his head towards the houses and saw you place your Withers down as well. He thought you looked gorgeous spawning in the Withers, it pulled him out of his blood lust just for a moment, the wicked smile on your face was stunning. He watched as you laughed tossing your hair back, the way it framed your face was remarkable, he thought you looked like Eris.

An arrow that whizzed by his face and it snapped him out of his ogling, he turned back to rubble only to come face to face with Tommy and Tubbo.

“Technoblade! Stop this!” Tommy began to plead as they stood on the opposite end of the battlefield, he did pause to stare at the children.

“Please!” Tubbo begged from his side and Technoblade grit his teeth in frustration, after all this time they still didn’t understand his ideals or why he was so mad in the first place.

“You betrayed us Technoblade! You betrayed me! Just fucking stop this! Help us kill the Withers and stop Dream. All you’ve ever done is betray us, since we met you that’s all you’ve done. It all started with you killing Tubbo at the festival! Just stop this!-” He felt his blood turn to ice and he turned to face Tommy pointing his crossbow at the two boys. He watched Tubbo flinch and grab onto Tommy’s arm, clearly traumatized from the last time the weapon was pointed at him. Technoblade bared his teeth and felt his face begin to morph into that of a full pig, something that only happened when he was pissed to hell and losing control of himself.

“Remember when I was sitting there, alone, against the whole government -- and you and Wilbur just sat there on the sidelines and watched? Did you step in? Did you step in? Were you guys the ones that stepped in and said, "Don't worry, Technoblade, we know you're in a high-pressure situation, but we'd fight the world for you, Technoblade''? No! You guys watched. You know what I did, yesterday when you were surrounded by thirty people? When the whole world was against you? I walked in. I was willing to fight all of them for you, Tommy. I would've been there. That is the difference between us." The man roared his voice carrying over the battleground, catching the attention of a few others who were still trying to kill the Withers nearby. For a brief moment Tommy looked broken up by Technoblade’s words but he pushed it aside with a shake of his head. He was about to argue back when the faintest of hissing sounds came from above. Everyone turned towards the sky, a flash of lightning illuminated the scene above them, Dream was standing on top of the obsidian grid. Technoblade made sure to take a few steps away so he wasn’t right underneath the first bit of dropping TNT,

“No,” Tubbo’s voice wobbled “What’s he doing, he can't-”

Almost like Tubbo predicted the outcome TNT began to rain down in the dead center of New L’manberg, the panicked shouts from the citizens only increased tenfold. The falling explosives spread out in the grid-like pattern Dream had created, making sure to hit every square inch of the once great country.

“Tubbo RUN!” Tommy grabbed his arm and pulled this best friends away just in time to not get injured by the first round of explosions that went off in the middle of town. Technoblade made quick work of dodging the falling pieces of TNT as he flew up onto the obsidian grid his Trident in hand. He watched gleefully as L’manberg was sent up in smoke, everything from the houses to whatever the fuck the L’mantree Dream mentioned was, was blown to shreds. Personally, Technoblade didn’t want Dream to stop until he saw bedrock at the bottom of the pit. He looked over and saw Phil smiling widely at him, the man gave him a clear thumbs-up spreading his wings wide. He could tell Phil was proud of him, he was proud of himself.

“Where’s (Y/N) mate?” He called out to him and the bliss he was feeling suddenly crumbled into pieces around him. Technooblade whipped around towards the last place he spotted his girlfriend, on top of the houses that were now blown to smithereens. He turned back towards Phil, panic in his eyes, Phil’s smile was immediately wiped off his face and he hopped down off the grid and into the rubble. Technoblade wasn’t far behind in his panicked searching, there was no sign of her anywhere and he was starting to lose his composure. Even as the TNT stopped falling around them and everyone began to head home (if they had one left to return to) he still couldn’t find her. That was until an unfamiliar voice called out to him,

“Mr. Technoblade!” The boy was half enderman and bordering on seven feet tall, he turned to face him and he swallowed thickly, “Miss (Y/N), she needs help!” Technoblade didn’t even respond he just let the Enderboy lead him to where she was, god please don’t be dead, please. The boy stood over her, wringing his hands nervously, a jacket was laid over her body and she was dragged far away from the wreckage. Technoblade froze as he watched the boy kneel and pull the jacket away, bandages were haphazardly tied around her waist and her breathing seems shallow. The half enderman looked up at him and swallowed thickly, “I found her under the rubble of my house.”

“I can handle it from here. Get out of here kid.” His voice was a low grumble and Ranboo hesitated for a moment before nodding, he knelt, picked up his other belongings, and headed off in the direction of the forest. Technoblade knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your injury, he felt his palms clam up as he opened and closed them. “You better not die on me princess, you promised,” he opened up the bandages on your waist, all things considered, the boy didn’t do that bad of a job patching you up. There weren't a lot of medical supplies on the battlefield so he did what he could with what he had, she must’ve gotten cut by a stray piece of metal as she fell, that’s what it looked like to him at least. Other than the jagged cut across her waist her ankle was twisted in a way that certainly wasn’t normal, his princess was beaten to hell. He swallowed thickly and began to rewrap her wound a bit more tightly so she didn’t bleed out, he felt a gust of wind beside him and he knew Phil was by his side.

“Fuck.” He murmured kneeling to set her ankle properly, the old man licked his lips before setting her ankle with a harsh tug. (Y’N)’s eyes shot open and she let out a shriek. “Sorry kid, sorry,” Her breathing went from shallow to heavy and frantic. Technoblade reached forward and grabbed your hand tight.

“Hey princess stay with me okay?”

“Bubs.” You whined painfully, “I guess I fucked up huh?”

“Only a lot,” Technoblade stated bluntly and watched as you let out a wheezing laugh that devolved into a cough. He frowned and took his other hand to card it through your hair, “Just take a deep breath we’ll get you home and all patched up.”

“Guess we aren’t getting married huh.”

“Fucking what-” Phil choked his eyes blowing wide, jaw-dropping Techno’s face flushed red in response.

“Half dead and you still find a way to torture me.” You laughed again as Phil only shook his head in disbelief,

“That is so scuffed. Go take her home, she’s gonna need stitches and a splint for her leg. Make sure she gets home safe.” Phil placed his hand on Technoblade’s shoulder and squeezed it before kissing your forehead softly, “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Obviously. Mr. Minecraft, would you expect anything less from me?”

“Nothing less,” He smiled fondly as Technoblade cradled you in his arms before hurrying away down the path. Phil stood up tall a frown evident on his features, he turned around to catch Raboo peaking out from behind the treeline. “Hey, Ranboo how’re you doing?”

“Um. I’m alright. Fine, I’m fine, is (Y/N) going to be alright?” He stepped out from behind the tree patting his hands on his pants a bit nervously. Phil eyed the kid up and down for a moment and he cleared his throat, “I found her she was really, really bad.”

“She’s going to be just fine, Techno’s looking after her.”

“Good, good.” He nodded the tall mans shoulders seemed to relax and Phil couldn’t help but look at him with pity.

“Ranboo, do you have a place to stay?”

“Ugh...you know what no I don’t actually.” Phil smiled over at the boy and held out his hand, his multicolored eyes widened a little as he interlocked his hands with the father beside him.

: )

~~~

Thanks for reading guys! I think this is the longest chapter yet, let me know your thoughts, feelings and opinions! : )

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamsmp x reader #dream smp #dreamsmp x you #Blood for the Blood God #rp #x reader #x you #minecraft x reader #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #fanfiction #fanfic

983 notes · View notes

sohin-ace · 3 years ago

Text

Bucciarati - My little Seastar

Sister reader. Enjoy~

"Hey, Bucciarati! Can you help me for a sec?"

You turned towards the direction of the voice calling you and stopped in your tracks on the wooden docks.

"What do you want, Valentino?" You spat, a bit more harshly than intended.

The smug boy who was crouched on his zodiac chuckled at you. "Aw, come on, Bucciarati! Don't be like that. I just need some help to tie the rope. Your dad is a fisherman, right? You should know knots like no one else!"

Even though he had said this as a way to woo you and flatter you somehow, you couldn't help but hear it as a condescending remark. You crossed your arms over your chest and he pouted at the glare you sent him.

"Pretty please~? No funny business, I swear! Look, the guys aren't even here, I'm all alone. You can trust me!"

That's right. Valentino and his little gang took great pleasure in teasing you and bothering you at every corner and it pissed you off. No matter how much you insulted them, ignored them or avoided them, they never seemed to stop their stupid and useless bullying.

But sadly, oh so sadly, the Bucciarati that you were was kind. Too kind. You despised that you were so gentle-hearted, but in the end, this is how your father and brother had raised you.

You huffed and slumped your arms loose along your body, defeated. "Fine!" You dragged your sandals over the dock and approached him. "It better be quick."

The boy beamed as you embarked on the zodiac next to him, "Sure thing! Thanks a lot, girl. I'll make it up to you!"

He gave you the ropes as you crouched down at his place and got to work. But without you noticing, the boy had swiftly slid his leg over the vehicle and easily jumped back into the dock, leaving you behind.

Before you could even turn around and ask where he was going, the brat, now accompanied by all three of his little buddies that appeared out of their hiding spot, all kicked the zodiac off of the dock before you could even tie it.

"Waah-!"

You lost balance at the violent jerk of the boat and yelped, letting go of the ropes that could have saved you from your demise.

You couldn't even get back to your knees and try desperately to grab onto the dock's wooden planks. You heard the boys snickering and laughing at you as you drifted farther and farther away from the land into the water.

"I fucking knew it you disgusting piece of TRASH!" You yelled at them, angry with them obviously, but also angry with yourself for granting that bastard the benefit of the doubt. "You know damn well I can't swim!"

They all seemed to laugh even louder, obnoxiously. "Too bad for you Bucciarati! Maybe you shouldn't be so stupid next time! BWAHAHAHA!"

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE VALENTINO! SCREW YOU!"

Your curses and wails seem to fall into deaf ears as you drifted even farther away from the coast, with no way of even paddling back.

Looking around towards the much bigger boats parked along the docks, you could only hope 'he' would hear you.

"PAPA!! PAPAAA!!!" You called desperately. Surely he would hear you, he wasn't far after all, you did come all the way here to bring him his lunch. He must still be somewhere around the fishing boats.

After a few more vain attempts to call for your father, you settled to accept that he wouldn't hear you, nor would the other fishermen that were already far gone from their boats to bring their catches to land.

You sat on the damp zodiac and brought your knees to your chest, not even caring if your sundress slid down your thighs indecently and got stained by the salty water. Stupid Valentino couldn't even keep his tiny boat clean.

"Stupid, stupid..." Your voice cracked, threatening to break into a sob. "If he was a sailor he'd be dead before even sailing. That's how stupid this stupid boy is. Stupid."

With only your expletives to reassure you in your demise, you buried half of your face in your arms now craddling your cold knees.

Everything was so silent, the sea did a great job at muting every sound around the coast and you felt the loneliest and most scared you had ever been since you were a child.

You thought nobody would find you, and you'd be dead drowning because you could never learn to swim and since nobody even noticed your absence in minutes that felt like hours, nobody would cry for you if you died here either.

And so the stinging tears prickled at your eyes.

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice calling your name, but brushed it off as the wind. "Y/N is that you?"

You looked up towards the insistant voice in a sliver of hope and, like an angel fallen from heaven, you were met with the caring blue gaze of your big brother from the railings of one of the high boats right next to where you had drifted to.

"Bruno!" You gasped and got up immediately, almost falling over from the sudden sway of the boat under your weight. "A-ah! Bruno help me, I'm stuck!"

"Hold on!" The worried face of the male hesitated to leave you for even a split second. "I'm coming down. Don't move."

You nodded at his strict tone and waited for him as he disapeared. Your breath caught in your throat with stress, even though you were reassured to finally have a savior. And what a savior it was, your one and only big brother.

Barely a minute passed before you saw him come back and unravel an emergency ladder down to you. He made sure the ladder was all tight and secure and almost immediately after, Bruno jumped over the railing, to your grand fright, and started climbing down, your heart pounding with worry for him.

He finally arrived down and stepped into the zodiac, joining you, like a glorious hero, saving the day. You barely let him any time to react as you threw yourself into his chest and gripped viciously at the back of his shirt, scrunching it without care, scared to be alone at sea again.

Bruno wanted to scold you and yell at you for recklessly playing around all alone in the docks and ending yourself in such a dire situation. But when he felt you trembling and squeezing him like your life depended on it, which ironically it did, the elder couldn't help but sigh and wrap his long arms around your shoulders, a gesture of comfort.

"... What happened to you?"

"It's-" You choked a sob and Bruno tutted and shushed you softly, patting your head to calm you down, just like your mother used to do when you were a child.

"Shhh, it's okay bambina, I'm here now."

He felt you relax and you sniffled a few times before mumbling into his shirt. "It's Valentino! He tricked me! I hate him! He's such a coglione!"

"Hey! Language." He scolded and pinched your arm, earning a little 'ow' from you, "What would dad think if he heard you say such words? Bite your tongue, young lady."

"S-sorry..." You croaked a little ashamed of your outburst and lifted your head up at your brother. "They always do this to me... Valentino and the others... Why...? They know I can't swim and they throw me into the water all the time..."

Bruno let go of you to cup your face and wipe your tears off. He did not let it show to you but he was infuriated. There was only so much patience an Italian man could have when his family was being targeted. Especially his little sister and the only lasting woman of his life.

"Shh, stop crying now, mia stellina marina. I'll deal with them later, okay? Let's get you home for now."

"They'll see." You sniffled as your breath steadied, calmed by Bruno's soft tone, "When I'll marry a big, tall, goth policeman, he'll beat them up for me and then, they won't act so cocky anymore."

He huffed with amusement at your words before he let you go and laid a gentle hand on your back to usher you towards the ladder. Bruno, still with a bit of confusion, mumbled to himself without you hearing it.

"... Why goth, though?"

Only now had you noticed the zodiac had stopped drifting since Bruno found you, held onto the much bigger boat by a phantom blue and white arm and a golden zipper that you'd recognize from a mile away.

"Can we... Can we let the zodiac in here?" You asked hesitantly towards your brother who paid no mind to it.

"Who cares? It's not ours."

With thoughts of Valentino's expensive motorboat getting lost in the sea, you slowly took ahold of the ladder's ropes and started climbing, Bruno keeping it steady for you until he was sure you embarked in safely.

He then joined you up and lent you a spare jacket that he thankfully thought of taking with him in the morning, covering you from the cold of your drenched dress against the littoral wind.

"Thank you Bruno..." You softly uttered and hugged his warm jacket closer around you, "I always cause you trouble..."

"Nonsense, piccolina. I could never live knowing my sister is crying, cold and afraid somewhere." He squeezed your shoulder against him as you approached the stall your father and his colleagues were filling with freshly caught fishes. "I'll make sure you're the one that never gets troubled again..."

Fortunately for you, the day ended much more peacefully than it had started and your father was happy and relieved to find you safe and uninjured. He had specifically instructed Bruno to not get involved or make a scene, but of course, his son was a stubborn mediterranean who could not let anything just slide.

It was not the first, not the second, nor even the third time this boy, 'Valentino' and his friends, had taken offense towards you.

So, Bruno would make sure the zodiac Valentino had worked oh-so-hard to afford, part-timing as a waiter, cleaning after people's messes, scrubing disgusting shit-stained lavatories and cutting his hands off of plastic and metal scraps scattered along the beaches for a few cents per day, got thoroughly anihilated to pieces.

"NOOOO!!!! MY ZODIAC !!!! MY 50 000€ BAAABYYYYYY!!! WHYYYYY???!!"

The very next day, as you walked along the docks to bring some fishing materials to your brother, you heard the painful wails of a very familiar boy kneeling down and crying on the woodplanks, his screams echoing against the shore.

"SHUT UP BRAT! You'll think about your money after you pay for the fines I'm about to give you. You think you can get away with polluting the water with your gross ass wreckage?" A tall and burly policeman wearing purple lipstick growled at the kneeling boy, no signs of mercy in his baritone voice. "You'll have a reason to cry when you pay for the oil you spilled in here. You're lucky I'm not throwing your ass in jail right now."

"Officer please-" Valentino pleaded miserably, but the policeman did not hold back on pushing all fives of the different citations he had owned by having pieces of his zodiac scattered all around the precious ressourceful ocean.

"You have two weeks to pay up and clean all that shit." The officer fixed his shades over his nose before turning around to leave. "And expect to receive a salty lawsuit soon. Fucking whiny bitchbaby..."

The policeman left with a determined and impatient step as you witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes, not noticing your brother approaching.

"Oh no... That's horrible..." You gasped with sympathy and worry, "I hope the fishes and corals won't get impacted by the oil spill..."

"Oh don't worry," Bruno chuckled, taking the heavy loads off your hands, "I made sure to zip that out of the water."

You blinked, confused.

"...What?"

"What...?"

That fic was inspired by the very first scene of H2O, I love that show so much, and I can't wait to post my mermaid fics in store!

173 notes · View notes

hellcaster901 · 4 years ago

Text

Say Something

The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: After a bounty, and some insecurities, both of you decided to be honest.

Word Count: 6,321

Warning(s): SMUT! (No one under 18 PLS) also, please be safe, its a fanficiton wrap that shit up. Language, creampie, slight mutual masturbation? You know, its all the good stuff.

A/N: I decided that this needed a third part! And thank you to @13dead-ends for being that bitch and helping me through this!! And if there are any mistakes, please, ignore them and enjoy the reading!

Masterlist

What Now? (Pt 1) Never Been Better (Pt 2)

The trees swayed with the wind, every single leaf moving of their own accord as you watched, the midnight sky shining down on you and the razor crest, the moon giving off a light for the whole galaxy to see. The ship slightly moved and creaked from the wind pushing against it. You sat there, slouched in the passenger seat of the cockpit, knees up to your chest as you simply watched, waiting.

You messed with your bottom lip, zoning out as you tried not to worry too much about what was going on with Mando. It’s been a week since he left, a week since he told you that the bounty would only take a day or two and he would be back. You tried your best to keep yourself busy, cleaning what you could, taking care of the child, fixing things that you could fix as you waited, but as each day passed, the nerves worsened and worsened. Which was… unlike you.

You worried, of course, there was always that chance that something would happen, but you knew that he was doing this long before he met you, long before he had either you or the child in his life, and for you to be worrying about it now when you were his��

What were you to him?

You scoffed at your thoughts, rolling your eyes at your own insecurities. You knew what you were to Mando, even without the silly labels, you knew that there were more to the two of you than you could even describe with words. You spent every night in his arms, stolen moments with him, spokeless heavy touches as the two of you worked around the ship. He was more to you, meant more to you than anyone you have met in your life, and you were sure you meant the same for him.

You shook your head of the silly thoughts, slouching further into the chair. It was silly to think such thoughts, even question everything that has happened. Those moments on his ship, at the festival, meant something, and honestly, you weren’t expecting a grand gesture of Mando expressing his love to you. You knew already.

You jumped when you heard the door slide open, hearing the clanking of the ramp as it slid down to the ground. You sat up, wide eyed, looking back at the door, hearing the heavy footsteps walking up the ramp, a heavy grunt as something heavy was dropped. You stood quickly, pushing the door pad as you climbed down the ladder, your heart thumping wildly against your chest as you saw him.

His back was to you, as he grabbed the bounty, picking him back up with a loud grunt, shoving the passed out man into the carbon-freezing chamber before a gush of smoke came from the machine, the man frozen.

He must’ve not heard you as he slumped against the wall, huffing in pain as he grabbed his side, trying his best to stand. “Mando?” You whispered, his head tilting towards you, another grunt of pain as he pushed himself against the wall, standing on his feet. “Are you okay?” You moved, grabbing the medpack rushing to his side before he could even say what was wrong with him. He didn’t say anything as he watched you open the box, your worried eyes looking up at him. “What happened?” You spoke softly, resting a hand on his arm.

“Stop.” He grunted roughly, flinching away from your touch, pushing himself off the wall as he limped around you. “I don’t need your help.” You said nothing as you watched him, lines forming between your eyebrows as you took in what he said.

“You’re hurt, Mando. Let me at least see what’s wrong.” You huffed, trying to play off what he said didn’t feel like a punch to the heart. You turned towards him, seeing that he was clenching his upper left chest, a growing patch of darkness growing. “You’re bleeding, let me-”

“Stop!” He huffed, turning towards you. Your body went rigged, your mind feeling like it was short circuiting as you heard the tone in his voice, the way he yelled at you. He could see it too, the way you held the med box closer to your chest, fingers tight around the box as you stared at him, eyes wide, mouth gaped as you took in the way he was acting towards you.

He opened his mouth to speak, say something to you, but nothing was coming out, and right now, he had to take care of himself. Mando turned from you without a word, soft grunts of pain as he limped towards the cockpit. You swallowed thickly, setting the med box on your hip. You blink blankly towards the ladder, not honestly sure what happened. There was rarely a time where he spoke like that to you, much less flinch away from you.

Maybe you weren’t something to him…

You sighed deeply, eyes closing at the fleeting thought. You knew that wasn’t it, and you were being childish by simply thinking this was more than him just frustrated with such a bounty. Selfish even to think that this was about you rather than him being hurt. With a deep breath, holding the box to your hip, you walked towards the ladder as well, climbing up, knowing that he needed at least something. The door to the cockpit slid open, Mando sitting at his seat, some of his beskar thrown to the side as he looked over himself.

He heard you, head tilting towards you, not a word spoken as you slowly walked over. You placed a hand on his chair, tugging it softly, hoping he would get the hint. And he did, letting you turn the chair towards one of the passenger seats as you sat down, placing the box on your lap. You tried not to take too long of a glance towards him, the layer of beskar he wore was gone, leaving him in a thin layer of clothing, chunks cut and slashed, exposing tan skin.

It was silent as you rummage through the box, grabbing some bandages, glancing up at the wounded man. “Lift your shirt.” You whispered, scooting towards the edge of the seat. Mando didn’t move, but you could feel his eyes searching you. “Up.” You mumbled, gesturing to the bandages in your hand. You tried not to look up at his visor, patiently waiting as he pushed himself off the back of the seat, his right hand grabbing the hem of his shirt, lifting it with a strain grunt. You kept you face blank as he lifted his shirt, trying not to show a reaction to the bruising that was scattered along his chest, deep and dark shades of purples and blues. You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on him as he slipped an arm from his sleeve, exposing the long slash.

Not only was the slash a bit ugly, but seeing him this exposed to you, with so much light still within the room, made your whole body light up. You felt each scar multiple times, felt how smooth his skin could be, felt each part of his body, but now as you stared at it, the moonlight shining brightly against his tan skin, it was as if you were really looking at him for the first time.

You pulled the cleansing-fluid and a small rag from the medpack, leaning forward as you held the rag beneath the slash, pouring the fluid over the wound. Mando inhaled sharply, chest flexing under your hand. You gave him a sympathetic smile, watching as most of the blood washed away with the fluid. You patted the wound, most of the blood that was dried to his skin wiping away as you soon saw how it really looked. “I think we have some kolto in here.” You mumbled, keeping the rag on the wound as you dug around in the medpack.

“I’m… sorry.” He muttered, noticing the way your body visibility stiffen at his voice. You shook your head, unrolling the bandages. You worked quietly, wrapping the bandages around the clean wound, looping it under his opposite arm and over the left shoulder, trying your best to make sure it was covered. You felt his eyes on you as you worked, reaching an arm over his chest,face inches away from his helmet as you sat back down, looping the bandage, trying to compose yourself. You were seeing skin that you’ve touched millions of times before, but something about actually seeing it was completely different.

“Nothing to apologize for.” You spoke, looking up at the dark visor. “I’m… just glad you came back safe.” What you didn’t realize was that Mando constantly had the same thoughts you had. Knowing that what the two of you were, were more than anything you could describe with words, and he wasn’t the best with words on top of that. The best way he could express those emotions, was through actions.

Your eyes dropped back to the medpack, shoving the materials back in, closing the box as you laid the rag on top of it, standing quickly to leave Mando to his thoughts. “Wait.” he mumbled, a hand grabbing your wrist. You stared down at the gloveless hand, thinking back to all those times those hands have touched you, and made you cry his name.

You stood there, waiting for him to say something, feeling his fingers tighten around your wrist. You wish you could see what expression he had on his face, what he must be looking like right now. If he was staring up at you in confusion, or if he was deep in thought as he held you there. You wish you could really see the man you loved.

Mando’s hand slowly dragged down your hand, fingertips leaving a trail of fire before he grabbed the medpack, placing it where you were sitting. “Come here.” He spoke softly, both hands reaching for you again, a soft grip on your wrist, while the other gently brushed against your thigh, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re hurt.” You weakly protested, already feeling yourself moving closer to him, your body reacting to his simple touches. And he knew it.

He shook his head, “I don’t care.” Knowing that you were going to listen either way. And you did, letting him take your wrist, a hand on your thigh lifting it and settling yourself on his lap, straddling him. You tried to shift your weight, not wanting to put too much on him as you sat there, staring down at his stomach, watching the way his torso rose and fell as he breathed in and out. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You shook your head, knowing that wasn’t the case. His hands made their way to the top of your thighs, thumbs gently rubbing against the fabric of your pants, fingers dipping into your flesh, enjoying the feeling of finally having you in his hands again. “I’ve thought about you.” he spoke again, noticing the way you perked at his words, eyes darting to his visor before back down to his stomach, looking over his bruising. “Every night.” He continued a smile growing on his lips, his hands squeezing your thighs, hearing the soft gasp you produced at his touch.

“I thought about you too.” You whispered, not daring to look up at the man or focus on the way his hands felt so right on your thighs, instead, focusing on your own hands as they lightly touched his bruising, reminding you of the time at the festival as you traced his scars.

Mando watched the way you avoided looking up at him, your eyes trained on his torso, he understood, but he wanted to see you, your eyes, your lips when you smile, the way a light blush grew on your cheeks when hit that perfect spot within you. He had to see it all. “Where’s the child?”

You nodded towards the door, “Sleeping.” You hummed, trying to ignore the feeling of his hands moving upwards, fingers digging into your hips, moving you against his thigh. You suppressed the whimper, feeling the strong muscles rub right against your clothes clit, swallowing the sound.

Mando reached a hand up, hooking a finger under your chin, making you finally look at him, or at least, his visor. He’s thought about this, long and hard ever since the festival, if breaking his creed, for you, was really that bad of an idea. He wanted to see you without the hue of his helmet, without having to be in the dark to be able to actually kiss you and taste you. He wanted you to be able to actually see him.

You could tell that he was thinking, seeing the tilt in his helmet as he stared at you, eyes searching over your face. You only gave him a small smile, grabbing the hand that held your chin, and lifting the fingers to your lips, giving the rough digits soft kisses.

Right there, he decided.

Before you could do anything to stop him, he lifted his other hand quickly, making you blink as he grabbed his helmet, lifting the restriction off with a soft ‘hiss’ and clicking as he did so. You gasped loudly, dropping his hand, lifting your hands to your eyes as you quickly shielded yourself from seeing anything. “What are you doing?” You yelped, hearing the loud ‘clunk’ as the helmet dropped to the floor. “What is wrong with you??”

“Look at me.” He spoke softly, his actual voice sending chills down your spin. No matter how many times you heard it, it always made your body react the same way. You shook your head, feeling as if your heart was ready to explode at what he was doing. “Y/N, please.” he pleaded, wanting this, wanting you to see him.

“Your creed, I can’t.” You whispered. He felt his heart swell once again, knowing how much you respected him as a Mandalorian, even as he decided to break his creed for you, you still couldn’t let him, knowing this meant more to him than anything. But as of lately, and ever since he met you, you meant more to him than a creed.

“Look at me.” He spoke again, softly this time, almost as if he was talking to a startled animal, trying to relax the poor creature. His hands gently pulled at your arms, watching as your fingers slipped from your face, eyes still shut tightly. He chuckled softly, seeing the rise in your eyebrow at the sound. “I’ve thought about this.” He whispered to you, watching as you took a breath in, tongue coming out and licking your bottom lip before letting the deep breath out, his cock twitched at the sight, finally able to see you. “Breaking my creed… for you, it’s what I want.”

“Mando-”

“Din.” He rushed, watching your face contort at the name. “My name.” He clarified, “If you’re going to see me, I want to hear you say my name.”

It was all so much, knowing that this is what he wanted to do, hearing his actual name, knowing that he was doing all of this… for you. “Are you sure?” You questioned, not wanting this just to be the spur of the moment decision, you wanted whatever he wanted. You jumped slightly as you felt two large hands cup your face in a loving embrace, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks.

“I’m sure.”

You took a shuddered breath, opening your eyes.

Din watched as your eyes slowly opened, eyes instantly locking onto his, lips parting as you took in what you saw. Your eyes moved along his face, taking in each and every detail, already trying to burn what you were looking at in your brain, wanting to look at him forever. You reached for him, fingers gently touching his check, his eyes shutting for a moment as he took in the feeling of your fingers on his face, already knowing that this was the right decision.

“Din.” You whispered, his eyes flying open, hearing his name slip from your tongue. He hasn’t heard his name like that in a long time, with so much… love behind it. “You are… simply handsome.” You smiled, trying to look at everything at once. His dark thick eyebrows, dark brown eyes that seemed to only be locked on your face, and shaggy dark brown hair that fell over his forehead. But really caught your attention, was his strong pointed nose and his plump lips, parted as he let you look over him. The moonlight shining across his face, casting a shadow along his features as he stared back at you. He was simply the most gorgeous man you have seen.

He let you explore, eyes on his face, almost like you were afraid he was going to slip away from your mind if you didn’t see every feature. Fingers gently caressing his face, the stubble and face hair scratching along your fingers as you slowly traced his bottom lip, his lips parting, exhaling a shaky breath as you continued your exploration. He knew this was the right choice, see how you didn’t run from him when he didn’t meet what you imagined. “How could you have been hiding such a handsome face from me?” You whispered to him, watching a slight blush rising to his cheeks. You raised an eyebrow, eyes locking onto his, seeing how easily he was able to make blush. You’ve always imagined what he looked like, what colored eyes and hair, what kind of structure he had, but this… you could’ve never imagined this. “I love you, Din.” You smiled, those three words finally making their way out. You supposed, if he was able to take his helmet off for you, you could at least say those three words that bounced around your head whenever you were around him.

Without the helmet, you were free to see his facial expressions, and you didn’t realize how much you were missing out on. His jaw went slack, gulping visibility, eyebrows rising as he heard those three words. You suddenly felt nervous, maybe this wasn’t the right time to be saying something like that, especially after he just took the helmet off, after seeing what he really looked like. Maybe this was all overwhelming to Din. “I… I mean…” You choked out, your body tensing more and more when you realized he wasn’t saying anything, only staring at you with wide eyes. “Say something.” You whispered.

But he didn’t, he simply cupped the back of your head, ignoring the sharp jab of pain from his sides as he pulled you to him, kissing you. You hummed in surprised, before all of the tension in your body melted away, your body slacking against him as he held you to him. His lips were soft and warm, your own parting slightly as he took his chance, his tongue slipping inside, moaning as he tasted you. Warmth consumed you as you kissed him, his strong hands keeping you there, your own clenching the torn shirt in your hands, trying your best to not bump against his bruising as you did so.

No matter how many times the two of you have been in this position, it always took Din by surprise at how exhilarating you were. The way your body completely gave itself to him, how trusting you were as he held you, and how sweet the noises you made. He could never lose you. “I love you.” He mumbled against your lips, a soft whine filling his ears as you heard his words. “I love you, Cyar’ika.”

You pulled back, noses still brushing against one another as you looked up at him, wide eyes staring back at one another. “Din.” You spoke softly, a smile growing on your face. He smiled back, only making your heart swell even more. He swiftly tugged you back against him, a groan mixed of pain and pleasure as he felt you, lips molding themselves to yours again. What was once just a kiss of passion, quickly intensed as he held you, a hand weaving into your hair, the other cupping your cheek. You felt dizzy, as if the world was spinning around you as Din held you, your whole body light as if all the air in your body was going straight to your head. Lips frantically moving against one another. It was all new. Of course, the two of you have been together before, but this time… the two of you knew what the other was feeling, what was going on, and what it could possibly become. The new found feelings you both confessed only fueled you two more.

You slipped your hands under his torn shirt, fingers dancing across his chest, cautious of his wounds as you tugged it up, trying to feel and see more skin. Din pulled away quickly, sitting back, lust blown eyes watching as you pushed the mangled fabric up, careful as you lifted it over his head and down his arm, flinging it to the side. He lunged back on you, lips only inches away before you placed a hand on his chest, a groan of protest from deep in his chest as you pushed him back into the seat. You wanted to see him. Even with the light from the moon, you could tell what happened during this bounty took a toll on him, splotches of red skin, deep bruising that continued to bloom as he sat there. “I’m okay.” He spoke gently, noticing the way your eyebrows pulled closer together as you took in his state.

“You look horrible.” You sadly smiled, trying to keep how you were really feeling deep within. He knew what he was doing, again, he’s been doing this long before you came into his life, but that didn’t make seeing him like this any easier. You felt his hands trail up your arm, light brushes of his fingertips sending shivers through your nerves. You leaned forward, noticing the way Din closed his eyes, ready to feel your lips against his. You smirked as you placed a kiss on his chin, feeling the facial hair brush against your lips, peppering light kisses down his neck, feeling the muscles move as he gulped. “Let me make you feel better.” You mumbled, lips brushing against his jaw, smiling when you felt him shiver. He weakly nodded, feeling his cock twitch yet again within his restraints.

Soft kisses down his neck made him weak, melting into the seat as you did so, softly biting and sucking on his skin. His hands made do, running over your arms and shoulders, before trailing down your back, fingers digging into your sides, your shirt lifting slightly as he pulled you closer to him. You hummed, feeling the tips of your toes drag across the cold floor as he pulled you, strong muscles firmly rubbing against your throbbing pussy. You were a mess, and you just wanted him. “Din.” You whimpered against his neck, a deep guttural moan leaving his lips, finally hearing his name you were moaning. His heart was beating wildly within his chest, your lips on his neck and chest, his name coming out like sweat prayers as he grabbed your waist, it was all so intoxicating. He pulled you even closer, your head lifting up, nose brushing against his cheek as he held you to him, sensitive nipples brushing against the ridges of his chest, the fabric of your shirt collecting around your waist.

“I need you.” Din mumbled, ducking down as he kissed along your neck, soft whimpers of pleasure as he tasted your skin. “Maker, I need you now.” he desperately moaned. You nodded wordlessly, leaned back pulling your tunic over your head. The fabric was barely off your arm as Din grabbed you again, dipping down as he lazily kissed along the tops of your breast, both moaning as he lifted one hand, cupping one breast as his lips wrapped around the nipple of your other. You trembled against his body, his heated mouth wrapped around your sensitive bud while the other nipple was pinched and pulled. You clenched your thighs, whole body heating up as he tasted you.

“Din, please.” You whimpered. He groaned against your breast, feeling himself grow harder as he heard his name again. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to hearing you say his name like that. He continued his assault along your chest, ignoring your weak protests as he nipped and sucked, his free hand grabbing at the small of your back, pushing softly, arching your back, giving him more access.

He mumbles something against your skin, not loud enough for you to pick up. You wrap your arms around his neck, gently dragging your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he grunts against you, hips bucking beneath you. You gasp as you felt him, hard and pulsing against you, just begging to be seated in you. You cupped his face, dragging him away from your chest, plump red lips parted as he looked up at you, a blissed look on his face. “Can I ride you?” You honestly didn’t mean for it to come out so innocently, but it worked in your favor when you saw his eyes widen, before he dumbly nodded, as if he’s never heard that before. And maybe he hasn’t.

You lift yourself off his lap, his hands slipping from your waist as you stand in front of him, a smile on your face. He reached for you, kissing along your stomach, feeling his lips turn up as he hooked his fingers into your pants, pushing the material away. He groaned loudly as he saw you, leaning back in his seat, eyes taking in your appearance. You shivered as you felt the cold air, brushing your heated core. “Every night,” He started, working at his own pants, popping the button and tugging on the zipper, “I thought about you.” You blushed, feeling flushed at his words. You kicked the pants away, Din’s hands grabbing you, tugging you back into his lap, pulling you back down as he kissed you. “Can I have you?” He mumbled against your lips,desperate to feel you wrapped around him and with no hesitation you nodded, not trusting yourself to say a word. You reached for his pants, Din lifting his hips as you tugged them down, watching as he sprung free. The tip was a dark red, precum already leaking from the top, making you lick your lips at the sight. He twitched at your reaction, his length throbbing as all he wanted to do was take you right then and there, but he knew you wanted to take your time.

You gently wrapped a hand around his cock, spine tingling as he grunted, thrusting up to meet your hand. He felt hot and heavy within your hand, velvet skin moving against yours as you pumped him, twisting your hand slightly, watching as even more precum dripped, creating some lubricant for your hand. A whole week you went without him, and you thought it only affected you. “Stars, Y/N, please.” He begged, the pleading tone in his voice had the corner of your lips turn up. You ran your thumb across the slit, feeling the wetness collect as you smeared it along his cock, feeling and watching the way he twitched in your hand. Din slipped a hand between your bodies, finding your soaked pussy, your hips grinding against the slightest touch.

“Maker.” You gasped, dropping your head onto his shoulder, feeling his fingers slip past your folds, slipping two fingers into your heat a little too easily. You bucked against the feeling, a muffled moan into his neck as he pumped his fingers.

“So wet.” He mumbled, almost to himself, but you still shamefully nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he touched you. You couldn’t help but rock your hips at the divine feeling of his fingers rubbing at you sensitive tissue, pulling wet lewd noises from between your legs, and sinful moans from your lips.

“I need you, Din.” kissing his neck, a high pitched whine leaving your lips as you lost the feeling of his fingers, the same hand grabbing his cock from you. He pulled you close, breasts squashed against his chest, positioning himself between your folds. He teases you, running the flushed tip of his cock back and forth, tapping against your clit, making you jump at the sharp contact, only whining more for him. “Please.” You begged again, kissing his shoulder. With your final beg, he finally pushed into your clenching hole, his own head dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly sunk down onto him.

“Oh, fuck.” He huffed, feeling you clench around him. You squeezed around him, trembling as you felt him stretch you open, perfectly rubbing against your swollen walls as you lowered yourself down, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips, guiding you. Even though it was only a week without him, it was as if your whole body forgot how thick he was, and just how well he fit within your soaked walls.

You shuddered against him as you felt him fully seated within you, letting yourself adjust to his size, enjoying the way he felt within you and the way he twitched as you squeezed him. You pulled away from him, his own head lifting as the two of you looked at one another. He looked as if he was completely enthralled, heavy eyelids, lines creased between his eyebrows as he felt you. You felt drunk, drunk on Din, drunk on the way he felt within you, drunk on everything he was, and he looked like he felt the same.

You cupped his face, looking over each of his features as he felt you, the shaky breath, the crease in his eyebrows, the absolute fucked out look on his face, and you just started. You gave your hips an experimental grind, watching as his lips parted even more, the crease in his eyebrows growing as he groaned, hands gripping your hips even tighter. You wanted to see every face he made as you rode him.

You lifted yourself up, feeling the sweet drag of his cock, his hands helping you before dragging you back down, your ass slapping against the tops of his thighs. You whined softly, drowning in his scent as he pushed some hair back from your face, cupping your cheek as you continued to move. You lifted your hips slowly, feeling the tip of his cock hit the spongy spot within you, your whole body erupting in chills. You felt as if you couldn’t look away from him, afraid of missing any small detail of him, and you felt as if he felt the same way, his own eyes on your face. “Gods, look at you…” He mumbled, in complete awe of you. You felt dizzy as you nodded, shivering as he spoke. He leaned forward, hands tightening within your hair as he placed kisses along your shoulder, mumbling words against your skin. “So good, wrapped around me.” You nodded, bracing the back of the seat, giving yourself more leverage. You feel absolutely filled to the brim, his cock hitting deeper than you’ve felt before. “Din.” You mumbled, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. His lips brushed against your ear, slurring about how well you’re taking him. You don’t think you could ever get used to his voice without the helmet, it was all so much. With a trembling hand, you shift your fingers through his hair, finding the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck, a slight smile on our face, you never really took Din to have curly hair.

He shudders as you tug on them softly, bucking his hips at the sensation, your toes curling as if you felt him in your throat. “Do it again.” He groaned against your neck, gripping your waist even tighter, helping you ride him. You tugged on his curls, gasping as he pulled his head back, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He couldn’t handle it anymore, he needed more. He grabbed you, bringing you harder against his thrusts, skin slapping against skin, a rhythm that made your mind go blank as you held onto the seat.

“I-I…” You wanted to say so much, wanted to tell him how good you felt, how bad you wanted this to last, but all you could say was mindless words and grains as he fucked up into you. Din didn’t stay still for long, thrusting into you, almost as if he couldn’t bear to be outside of you, short hard thrusts making you cry each time.

“So good.” Din mumbled, flexing within you, grunting as he felt you clench around him, sucking him deeper within you. “Feel perfect around me.” He huffed, biting down on your bottom lip, loving the way your breasts bounced against his chest, watching the way your hair fanned out, a thin layer of sweat along your forehead, making you look absolutely crazed. You looked as if you’ve been fucked all night, and he knew he needed to make that happen. He released your lip with a small slap, “Gotta have you all the time, sweet thing.” Chills ran down your back at the nickname, “Can’t stand not having you wrapped around me.” A small whimpered left your lips, his words only sending more heat to your lower stomach.

He could feel you get tighter and tighter around him, incoherent mumbles as you breathed. He knew you were close, from the way you felt around him to the fingers you were digging into the nape of his neck. He had to feel it. He grabbed your hair, tugging you back, seeing the blissful state on your face as you looked down at him, bright cheeks and parted plump lips. “You’re close.” He stated, watching as you nodded, feeling the heat build and build. “Lemme feel it.” He sighed, bringing you harder against him, hearing the lewd wetness of your pussy. He glanced down, watching the way his cock slipped from you and sheathed right back within your soaked walls, glistening more and more with each thrust. “Maker.” He gasped, twitching at the sight. You clenched around him at the feeling, shuddering as you bucked against him, whimpering and begging him to keep going. “I’m not gonna stop.” You dropped your head back onto his shoulder, not trusting your neck to keep your head up, but Din had other plans. “No, come on.” He mumbled, pulling you back up, eyes back on his. “Keep riding me.” He felt your thighs twitching, body losing its rhythm as you tried to keep up the pace. Fingers wrapping around your neck softly, just enough to make you look at him. “Say my name when you cum.”

He felt you clench around him at his words before finally her whole body went tense. You spasmed against him, a single sharp cry of his name. “Din!” He felt you tightening around him more and more, tighter than he’s ever felt. You bucked against him, feeling your juices seap from where the two of you were joined, coating the inside of your thighs and his as you bounced on his cock. Legs and thighs twitching like mad as you stared down at Din, jaw slacked, eyebrows scrunched together. You heard the low rumble in his chest as he felt you, his cock pulsing as he grabbed your hips. You collapsed against him, wanting to worry about his bruising, but was surprised when he pulled you even closer, breaths mixing together as he lifted you up and down on his cock.

“I wanna see you cum, Din.” You whispered weakly, your walls clenching wildly around him, feeling overly sensitive as he continued to bounce you on top of him. His thrust soon became frantic, chasing his own high as he drove himself harder within you, ripping more weak whimpers and cries from your lips. “I gotta see you cum.” You whispered against his lips, smiling slightly as he nodded wordlessly.

Your walls fluttered around him as he pulsed, a deep groan of your name as he stilled within you, grinding you against his thighs as thick, ropes of cum filled you. You watched as his jaw dropped, eyes firmly shut, ragged breaths as he bucked against you, his cock twitching and pulsing as you milked him dry.

The cockpit felt as if it was a sauna, thick air around the two of you, the smell of sweat and sexs filled the air as the two of you took deep breaths in, trying to calm down from such an activity. Din peeled his fingers from you, dragging his hands up your back, feeling the cool layer of sweat that covered your bodies. You felt sticky, tired and completely fucked out as you sat on Din, his cock softening but neither of you cared to move.

“I love you.” You whispered once again, nudging his cheek with your nose, a cheeky smile on your face as he dropped his head back to the seat, eyes shut. You kissed down his neck, tasting the sweat as you moved to the other side of his neck, peppering more kisses. He hummed at your actions, fingers gently caressing your back.

“I love you.” He whispered back, the words sending chills down your spine.

“Do you need me to move?” You mumbled, moving your hips slightly, smirking as he gripped your thighs, stopping you.

“No.” He shook, keeping you to him, enjoying the weight of you on him. “Just stay right there.”

Mando tag List:

@hayley-the-comet @unciejensen @talesfromtheguild @roxypeanut @sirianisrock @yelyahcardella @officiallyunofficialperson @luna6499 @bxxbxy @readsalot73 @blblalabla @blackravena @crowwleys @mcueveryday @anthenglen @mazzellobaby @triggerhappyflygirl @himarisolace

318 notes · View notes

shyficwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 15

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter and you have started another prank war. Who will come out on top?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thanks to anon for submitting this idea for a cute fluffy scene to include in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 29 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,812

It soon became clear that the prank war was back on.

Just as you had resolved to the previous night, you squirted lemon juice in Peter's coffee when he wasn't looking.

He made a face upon tasting his ruined coffee, but just gave you a look of sleepy contempt as he dumped it in the sink rather than complaining. He knew what he had done to deserve it. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to get you back.

He had his revenge later in the sitting room. He called you over, stating he had a question about a book. When you got closer to him, he then asked, "Hey, do you smell popcorn?"

You raised an eyebrow, and of course took in a big whiff. Big mistake.

You immediately gagged, your nostrils having been assaulted by the rankest smelling fart you think could have ever been expelled from a human body. It even rivaled Yondu's incident with dairy.

Peter lost it, doubling over with laughter as you backed away with your mouth and nose covered.

"Ugh! You nasty fecker! Oh my god!" you cried out, still backing away. "What's wrong with you!"

Kraglin, Drax, and Rocket were now also laughing from their places near the television. Drax laughed the loudest, saying, "Quill! That was brilliant! I'm not even mad that I lost the bet! HAHAHA! I'm going to try that!"

The bet he was referencing had happened moments prior, when Peter saw you in the hall and hurried into the sitting room whispering to his friends that he bet 20 units he could make you willingly smell his farts. Ah, what an immature lot they are.

You would have smacked Peter, but that would mean getting closer to him and the smell and you thought better of it, instead turning with the intent to leave the room completely, leaving them still laughing in your wake with only revenge on your mind.

You tried to think about what you had at your disposal, and remembered that you still had the whoopee cushion after you had snatched it back from Kraglin during the last prank war. You kind of wish you knew where your spider went though. It proved marvelously effective last time. After Peter threw it at you and it resulted in your arm getting injured, you hadn't really thought about what happened to it afterwards until now. You obviously hadn't taken it, so you just assumed that it must still be with Peter. You momentarily considered looking in his room for it, but the thought of searching through his stuff felt strange to you, even if you would be looking for your own toy.

You remembered the sticky notes in your desk up stairs and thought if worse came to worse, you could always pull a classic "Kick me" sign.

You decided a walk might help you consider your options better and so you collected your earbuds from the hall table and made your way towards the back door. You noticed Gamora in the kitchen on your way, and realized she might actually have the answer to one of your questions.

"Um, hey, Gamora?"

She turned to give you her attention. "Yes?"

"I was wondering..." You suddenly felt ridiculous for asking, but pushed it down, "if maybe you had seen if Peter still had that toy spider of mine? I was wondering if I might have it ba-"

"Nuh-uh. That ain't happening."

You raised an eyebrow in surprise, but not at her, for she hadn't been the one to answer, and she was just as surprised by this sudden third-party interjection.

It had been Yondu who had spoken, and he spoke again. "I'm the one that's got it, and I ain't givin' it back." He sat at the table looking at you with his arms crossed and wearing a smirk, as if daring you to complain about it. He had snatched it the night you dislocated your elbow, around the time he was scolding Peter and Kraglin and calling an end to that prank war himself after it had resulted in an injury.

You raised both eyebrows in surprise now. "Excuse you?" you say, surprised at his boldness and a bit irritated at how he now seemed like a scolding teacher who had confiscated contraband from a naughty child.

"Yondu, you can't just steal her property." Gamora chided.

"Ya heard me. Last time she and Quill had it that happened," he gestured to your arm. "So I'm keeping it since clearly neither of the two of 'em seem to have any sense. She wouldn't be askin' for it back if they weren't gettin' into it again."

You exchanged a look with Gamora. Her expression told you that she seemed to agree with his argument, but didn't want to risk saying so, and that she now seemingly regretted being involved in this situation.

Deciding you were on your own you opened your mouth to tell him off, but before you could he spoke again.

"Don't try denyin' it either. I saw ya putting that sour juice stuff in his coffee. I know the two of ya are back at it again with that prank war stuff," he said almost smugly. "Ya ain't getting it back." He didn't want another prank war to result in more injuries, and if he was honest, he was still slightly salty about having been caught in the crossfire of one of your pranks that had been meant for Peter. He thought outright admitting to confiscating your spider toy would hopefully send the message to you to knock it off before you got started.

You bit your lips and narrowed your eyes at him, half embarrassed at being called out like that. You then shook your head. You were not about to demand or beg for the return of a rubber spider like a child. You straightened your back slightly and said, "Whatever. Keep it then. Don't care." in your best flippant tone. You turned away, putting in your earbuds and added, "Going for a walk. Try not to burn the house down," as you exited out the back door and left the two of them in the kitchen.

You didn't need that spider anyways.

***

It was a cooler day out, overcast in a way that made you think it might rain that night, and you were glad you thought to grab a jacket before you left for your walk. You thought you might visit your old tree, and assess that old door while you were out there. There wasn't a whole lot you could do with your arm still in a brace, but you knew you could still at least open it and give it a general look to see what you might need to build a new door for it.

However, when you got there you quickly realized that the door was simply too awkwardly big and slightly too flimsy due to decay from the elements to risk trying to open it with just one arm. You didn't want to risk falling in it and either causing further injury and/or not be able to climb back out if it turned out the ladder rungs descending into the tunnel were bad too. You were now kicking yourself for not having fixed it months ago when you first noticed how bad it had gotten. At least at that period of time your arm wasn't in a brace and you didn't have eight houseguests to worry about.

You sighed. For now you settled on making a list in your phone of the different materials you'd need to make a sturdier door in the future when you were less... indisposed. No big deal. The world wasn't going to end if you couldn't fix it immediately, and honestly it was probably dumb of you to come out there right now in the first place. Sure, maybe you could get the door built in your current state. Maybe. If no one was around to see you breaking the doctor's orders on the weight restriction and then tell on you to Fury. But that didn't change the fact that you'd then need to carry it out there somehow. Something you definitely couldn't do in your current state. There was perhaps the option to bring the materials out there and assemble them on-sight, but you knew you couldn't carry them out there in a timely fashion either. Could you if you asked for help? Absolutely. Were you going to? Not a chance.

You hung out around the tree for a bit, just listening to music before deciding to head back, and that's when you noticed some pine cones littering the ground.

This gave you an idea. You remembered once when you were little and your dad took you and your brother camping. Your brother had hidden pinecones in the bottom of your sleeping bag. Your feet came in contact with the foreign objects, and being met with weird almost scaly feeling forms instead of the softness of your sleeping bag made you jump right out of said bag with a shriek.

You grinned. You had found your revenge prank. You only hoped that it would have the same effect on a grown man finding these at the foot of his bed as it did on seven-year-old you finding them in your sleeping bag.

Now you had another reason to be glad you wore a jacket. You could hide the pinecones in the pockets as well as hiding them inside the jacket itself and zip them inside.

You loaded up several pinecones. Enough to be sure he'd notice when crawling into bed, but not so many that they'd be noticed as you snuck them into the house.

You arrive back at the house to find the house mostly quiet, and it made you worry that Peter might be in his room and you wouldn't be able to place the pinecones.

However, just to your luck, you managed to catch a glimpse of him and a few others out front through the kitchen window. Perfect.

You quickly make your way upstairs and headed towards Peter's room. The upstairs seemed to be empty and you were just about to congratulate yourself on your good fortune as you already started pulling pinecones out of your pockets, until you noticed Rocket standing in Peter and Gamora's room.

Seeing him caused you to start and you dropped a couple of your pinecones on the ground due to your arm brace hampering your ability to reflexively catch them before they fell. The sound of the pinecones hitting the floor caused Rocket to startle in turn.

"Uh..." you said awkwardly, stepping into the room and picking up your pinecones, "What you doing?"

Rocket, who had been digging through a dresser drawer, responded with, "...Nuttin. What are you doing?" He eyed the pinecones in your hands.

"Nothing." You responded.

An awkward silence fell for a moment. You both knew the other wasn't really supposed to be there, that the only reason for being there right then was mischief of some sort, and you both knew that the other knew that you knew. There was only one thing for it.

Rocket spoke again. "Right..."

You nod. "Yes... good. So... carry on then?"

Rocket nodded slowly. "Yeah..." He turned back to looking for whatever it was he was snooping for.

Taking the hint, the unspoken 'I won't tell if you won't," you carried out your plan, removing the pinecones from your jacket and placing them at the foot of Peter's bed under the blankets.

You finished quickly, catching Rocket's gaze again before you left. A silent nod was all that was exchanged and you were on your way.

***

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. You read, you listened to music, you got roped into a game of Monopoly that went on far too long because Mantis kept needing reminded of the rules. You didn't entire blame her. It was pretty obvious that it was everyone but Peter's first time playing.

Speaking of Peter, you were surprised he hadn't tried to mess with you the entire game, and you wondered if Gamora might have got on him after hearing Yondu say he could tell that the two of you were starting in on another prank war, or if Yondu had scolded him himself.

Sometime after the game had finished- Gamora won, and Peter pouted- you went to get a drink from the kitchen. When you returned to the sitting room to grab another book to bring upstairs to read you saw Drax approach Yondu and ask, "Yondu, do you smell popcorn?"

Not wanting to sit through another round of what Peter had done to you that morning, you quickly grab a random Sci-Fi/Fantasy book from the shelf and turn to get out of there just in time to hear Yondu reply with, "What the hell is popcorn?"

This was immediately followed by the sound of a very loud fart along with Drax's booming laughter.

In startled surprise you sharply turned in their direction to see Drax laughing and Yondu's face scrunched in both confusion and what was likely disgust.

Peter was laughing too, but at Drax rather than Yondu's misfortunate proximity to his offender. "Drax! Buddy, the fart's supposed to be silent."

Drax didn't seem to mind his mistake, just simply responded with "Ohhh!" and continued to laugh while Yondu shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Taking in the sight you couldn't help but giggle too at just how ridiculous the situation was. You brought a hand up to your mouth to suppress it, but the sound caught the attention of Yondu and Peter anyway. Yondu's eyes narrowed and Peter was pleasantly surprised that you found the situation funny as well.

You broke their gaze and retreated to your room. Better to escape before you risked smelling anything awful.

***

It wasn't hard to tell when Peter found what was waiting in his bed that night. However, instead of girlish screams like the night he found the spider, he let out a cry of, "Gah! What the hell!?"

You grinned as you sat on your bed reading your book. Mantis was already fast asleep in her bed, and she stirred at the sound of Peter's cries just on the other side of the wall. After looking toward you and seeing you sitting calmly she determined there must not be any danger and soon fell back to sleep.

A few minutes later, though, you were surprised to see Peter walking into your room.

Startled at the sudden intrusion you jolted and as he approached you, rather quickly at that, you said, "Hey- what are you doing?"

He stopped in front of you with a smirk and raised his arms. It was then you realized he had been carrying a shirt bunched up as if it were being used as a sack.

Unceremoniously he emptied the shirt/sack over your head, showering you with all the pinecones you had hid in his bed.

"Hey!" you complain, raising your good arm to shield your head from the coniferous onslaught.

Mantis stirred again, lifting her head to see what was going on.

"This is for leaving those in my bed." he laughed, turning to leave. "And don't think that counts as me getting you back!" he added as he stepped out the door.

Mantis yet again laid back down to rest upon seeing the disturbance was just Peter's shenanigans. You got the feeling that she must be used to it.

***

The next couple days were mostly spent with you and Peter battling back and forth via small pranks.

Yondu obviously noticed, and despite him acting like he didn't want the two of you to get started again, he didn't say or do anything to stop it. It was clear it was keeping your mind off what what had been bothering you, so he just let the two of you be. Especially as it seemed to be harmless.

Kraglin mostly stayed out of it this time. Sure, he helped Peter some, but he was still more likely to bend to Yondu's orders of "This prank war is over!" from last time. That, and he still felt bad about what happened with the incident with the spider, even if it had been mostly Peter's idea.

Peter got you with the old 'shoulder tap misdirection' a couple times, where he'd tap one shoulder and either be on the other side when you turned to look, or have walked away completely.

You hit back by turning the batteries backwards in the remote, knowing he'd likely be the first to use it that morning.

After he finally figured that one out, he decided he'd retaliate by turning all your books backwards on the shelf. When you walked in that evening to see him mid-prank, you simply sighed and rolled your eyes. Seemingly embarrassed to have been caught mid-prank he laughed nervously and straightened up, rubbing the back of his head.

You rolled your eyes and left the room, hoping that since he'd been caught he'd then turn them back right way round. Knowing it was unlikely, you decided to shove some newspaper in his shoes. You could hear Drax in the background laughing at Peter for getting caught as you walked away to retrieve an old newspaper from the table in the hall.

He clearly must have found it at some point the next morning because he got you back around lunchtime by pouring just a little bit of water in your seat right before you sat down to eat.

You jumped from your seat the moment you felt the cold water soak the left side of your ass and after a few seconds of reaching back to feel the wet spot and checking the chair you looked over to where he was sitting and narrowed your eyes.

He simply grinned at you like he had pulled the best prank ever.

Taking a breath, you straightened and just shook your head, warning him that he shouldn't escalate unless he wanted you to do the same.

He didn't seem to take your warning seriously.

***

The next morning when getting ready you saw that Peter had struck again. You didn't know when, or how he had managed to find the time to both sew a pair of your socks shut halfway down with sloppy grey stitches and place them back in your dresser (on top so they'd be first picked, of course) without you noticing, but you did know that this meant double war.

He had pranked you twice in a row, without waiting for you to have retaliated against his last prank first. Or, more likely, he had set this prank and then pulled another without waiting for you to find the first one. Tsk, Tsk, Peter. Bad form.

You found another pair of socks, luckily he had only bothered to adulterate one pair, and then went to confront him.

"You're really asking for it." you say, thrusting the socks towards him in the hall.

"What?" he asked. Trying to act innocent, no doubt.

"You sewed my socks shut. I warned you, don't escalate unless you want me to do the same."

There wasn't really any anger in your voice despite your warning tone, which Peter took as a good sign. "I didn't escalate-"

"Oh-ho! Don't try that with me! You double pranked!" As the words left your mouth you internally cringed. This reminded you of how the two of you had bickered like children in the grocery store. You pushed the feeling that you sounded like a teenager in a Disney sitcom aside for now.

Peter eyed you for a moment before crossing his arms and smugly replying, "Technically no. You interrupted my book prank and then stuffed paper in my shoes. So, because I technically didn't finish my prank, you double pranked."

"No-" you started.

"Yes." He laughed. "So if anyone escalated, it was you." He said in a teasing voice, aiming a couple pokes to your abdomen and making you flinch back at the touch.

"I did not!" you argued, smacking his hand away.

"Eh... ya kinda did..." he drawled out with a grin. "So, I think that means you gave permission for all unwritten rules of pranking to just be thrown out the window." He chuckled, a mischievous glint to his eyes.

"No-" you said warningly. "I did not." You could tell he was just trying to piss you off, but you weren't going to let him win.

"Yeah, I think you did..." He lightly laughed. "So anything else that happens... you'll only have yourself to blame." He said the last bit in a sing-songy voice and went to walk into the kitchen. He stopped momentarily and turned back to you with a grin. "However, you can always avoid any further annoyance by just declaring me the prank master..."

You blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Declare I'm the prank master and you won't have to worry about what I'll do next."

You scoffed at him. "You're dreaming."

Peter grinned wider. "Nope. I'm just 'The Prank Master.'"

You narrowed your eyes and walked past him into the kitchen. "You're gonna regret that," you warned, earning only a chuckle from him. There was no way you were going to declare him master of anything.

You made your way to the pantry to find something quick for breakfast and Peter went to pour himself some coffee.

That's when you found it. Your next prank idea. And boy, was it going to be good.

While grabbing a pop-tart from the pantry, you happened to notice a certain box of gel food dye sitting next to your spices. Your eyes lit up, knowing exactly what you would do with it. You quickly pocketed the blue vile and hid the rest of the box behind the spices where it couldn't be seen for security purposes, just in case Peter would happen to have the same idea. You weren't going to do it right away, but knew it couldn't hurt to have the little bottle on hand just in case...

***

After breakfast you decided to head out to the shed to survey the pile of spare wood you had.

In the shed you found Rocket. This wasn't surprising as he spent a decent amount of time tinkering in the shed since you showed him the workshop. You still hadn't gotten around to finding the spare key for him, just letting him continue to use yours since there wasn't a lot you could do out there anyway until you got the brace off anyway.

You greeted him with a simple, "Hey," that Rocket returned as you made your way back to the spare wood to look over what you had on hand as far as repairing the old tunnel door to get an idea of what might you need to pick up from town.

Was it useful to look now seeing as you likely wouldn't get the brace off for at least a couple more weeks? No, but you were restless and you were really just looking for an excuse for something to do until that night when you could enact your prank.

"Whatcha doing?" Rocket asked, barely looking up from whatever plans he was drafting up on the old pad of paper you left out in the workshop.

"Nuttin," you reply, finishing up your shifting around of the wood and determining that you might have just enough of the right cuts already out there to make a full door, but you might need to pick up some more wood for it, as well as some brackets, later.

Rocket grunted in response and you start to walk back out when something caught your eye over by the long workbench.

You looked down to examine it, and a slight smile played on your lips.

"Did you fix my stool?" you asked, turning to him.

He didn't look up. "Nope."

You raise an eyebrow, mouth twitching upwards in humor. "Oh really? Then who did, if not you? Other than me, you're the only one who comes out here."

Rocket's gaze remained on the notebook. "Dunno. Must have been a 'stool fairy.'" Those last two words were laced with sarcasm.

You smirked. "Ah. I see. Well if you happen to see this 'stool faery,' be sure to tell him I said thank you." You turn and begin to walk out of the shed.

Rocket's ears twitched back for just a second and he grunted out in response, "Uh huh. Sure thing."

***

Unfortunately the stars didn't align that night for you to use the gel coloring on Peter. You had to time it just right to both make sure no one got caught in the crossfire and to not make it obvious you were up to something.

This, however, was probably for the best because Fury's visit the next day caught you off guard. You had been so busy pranking and being pranked and researching door construction and tunnel maintenance that you had managed to lose track of the days and didn't realize it was time for another weekly check-in until you heard him knock at the door that late afternoon. The sound actually startled you at first, and you mentally cursed him for insisting on keeping the times he'd show up a surprise.

Again, probably for the best you weren't able to pull that prank. You weren't sure how pleased Fury would be with you if he saw what you had planned to do to Peter if you had succeeded in going through with it.

The visit was brief. Same old news about the Guardian's situation; nothing changed, little to no progress made. It was time to re-stock the rations again and the guys helped Maria with that like last time. The doctor also accompanied them, and of course he ignored your case for removing the brace and instead just set the hinge to a slightly increased range of movement. He did say that as long as you continued your 'good behavior' it might be ready to come off the next week. You weren't going to hold your breath. Oh, and he also increased your weight restriction to ten pounds. Yay...

At one point Agent Hill pulled you aside like last time, wanting to check in to see if matters regarding your mental health had improved since the last visit.

You answered honestly that they had, but didn't bother to mention that the reason why was likely because Peter had managed to keep you annoyed enough that you didn't have time to dedicate enough thought to what had previously been bothering you.

She tried to pry more, but you weren't really giving her anything, so she just resigned that what she had been able to garner was good enough and the two of you rejoined the group just before Fury announced they would be leaving.

***

It didn't take long after they left for Peter to resume being his annoying self.

You were in the sitting room trying to read, but Peter kept singing along to a song on his Zune that he had come to realize you absolutely hated. To make matters worse, it seemed that he was intentionally singing as poorly as he could just to annoy you. He even got Kraglin to join in with him.

How could you tell it was just to annoy you? Well it didn't start with the singing. It started with tapping. Constant tapping. With his foot on the floor. With his knuckles on the coffee table. He even came up behind you at one point after you refused to react and started tapping you on the head as you sat curled on the sofa attempting to read. That one finally got you to react and scold him to knock it off, and that's when he switched to singing.

Of course, you told him to take it somewhere else. Did he listen? No. He instead moved to sit right next to you and sang louder.

You threatened to chop him in the throat if he didn't take his annoying self somewhere else, and while that got him to stand up, he didn't leave. Instead that's when he recruited Kraglin, who had walked in just a few moments prior to see what all the racket was, and who also didn't hesitate to accept an earbud from Peter and follow his lead.

You tossed your head back on the sofa in frustration and let out a growl as you gritted your teeth.

Peter broke his singing to laugh and tell you that he warned you, all you had to do to make it stop was admit his was the master.

And that's when you threw the pillow at him.

Well, you had been aiming for him, at least. You would have hit him too, had he not dodged at the last second, allowing for the pillow to instead smack Yondu, who no one had noticed had walked into the room, right in the face.

Your eyes widen, as do Peter's and Kraglin's. Only they're trying not to laugh as Yondu's stony face stares at you.

In your startled shock you stammer as you attempt to make an apology, but as he picks the pillow up from the floor all you are actually able to get out is, "I- Uh- I didn't mean-" and a nervous giggle.

Yondu stands back up, pillow now in his hands, and cocks his head at you. "Oh so ya think that's funny, huh?" He starts to walk towards you.

You of course deny it, trying to set the record straight that it had been meant for Peter, but the glint of a playful grin mixed with his grouchy façade made you unable to suppress a nervous grin as he approached. He then tossed the pillow back at you and you deflected it back onto the sofa.

"Nah, I think ya thought that was funny, even if it was meant for my boy." He was standing over you now and Peter and Kraglin were snickering as Peter encouraged him, saying that he thought you definitely thought it was funny to have hit Yondu with the pillow.

"Looks like someone needs to teach ya a lesson in manners, missy." Yondu said as he reached out and squeezed rapidly right above your knee.

Caught off guard you instantly throw back your head and cackle, your hands instinctively reaching for his as you kicked out. "No! Stop it!" you cry out between giggles before managing to free yourself and stand up from the sofa.

Abandoning your book you attempt to escape, but Yondu just grabs you by your good arm and pulls you back, effortlessly succeeding in securing you in a headlock and purposely arranging it so that your good arm was between the two of you and your braced arm was out to the open. He knew with the limited range of motion the braced arm had available you wouldn't really be able to use it to help free yourself in any meaningful way. He then proceeded to give you a noogie.

"Hey! Cut it out!" you complain, uselessly pushing against his shoulder from behind with your good arm. You cursed your arm brace. Without it you could have gotten out of this hold in 3 seconds tops. You still technically could, but didn't want to use that method unless you had to. You didn't want to risk hurting the older man, after all.

Yondu paused a moment and pretended to think. "...Nah. I didn't get an apology yet."

"Ugh! Fine! I'm sorry about the pillow! Happy? I already told you I meant it for Pe-TER!" You squeaked when Kraglin cheekily couldn't resist coming up to pinch your ribs in your current vulnerable state. "Knock that off!" you ordered. It of course only earned you another tickly squeeze from the first mate and the three men to laugh as you commanded Yondu to let you go before you made him.

"Ya ain't gonna make me do nuttin, missy." Yondu laughed, clearly believing he could take you in a fight any day even if your arm wasn't injured. "Where's my apology for when ya pranked the sink and it sprayed all over me?" Yondu asked with a mischievous chuckle. He then pinched your nose shut just to mess with you further. This prompted you to smack his shoulder with your good hand, but he did let go, laughing about how you were a 'feisty one.'

"Yeah," Peter egged on for the sink comment, laughing. "He yelled at me for that!"

You huff out a sigh. "Fine. Sorry for that too. Now this is your last warning to let me go!"

This only made Yondu and the other two laugh and Yondu went to noogie you again. Clearly they were underestimating you. Well, you did try to give him a warning...

In one quick motion you positioned your foot between his so that your leg was locked behind his thigh, reached your good arm up to rest your hand on his forehead, and threw your weight backwards, sending you both to the floor.

Yondu went easily, clearly having been caught off guard and landed on his back with an "oof!" and subsequently released you. Surprisingly though, he didn't seem angry about landing on the floor.

As you both sit up he was actually chuckling, to your surprise.

"Damn, didn't think ya had that in ya." Yondu laughed as he stood up.

Peter and Kraglin, who had went momentarily silent when the two of you fell, were now laughing again. Kraglin made a joke about how he didn't know you could actually fight.

You just grumbled and grabbed your book, deciding you would retreat to your room to finish reading for the night where you were less likely to be annoyed.

Ironically, the whole ordeal actually caused you to forget about the prank you had intended to pull on Peter until you again missed your chance to do it. Oh well, there was always tomorrow, right?

***

The next day you announced to those in the kitchen that you were making a run into town and told them if there was anything they needed to let you know now while you were making a list.

They didn't list-off much. Again, SHIELD provided them with pretty much everything they needed. Some razors, hair conditioner, lotion, and a couple requests for some Earth snacks they had come to enjoy were among the items requested. Simple stuff.

Then Yondu decided to be cheeky and claim his request was for you to take Peter with you again.

"No way," you say flatly, remembering the last run into town. "Not happening."

Yondu just grinned and leaned against his chair. "Fury said ya got to. Ya can't leave without a buddy 'til yer arm is healed up." He elbowed Kraglin and added, "Didn't he, Krags?"

Kraglin, clearly not expecting to be suddenly roped into the conversation said, "Uh, yeah. When you was in the other room talking to that Miss Agent Hill lady when they was here yesterday. He-uh- he told us then." He wasn't exactly the best liar.

You narrowed your eyes. "He did not." You looked to Gamora, who seemingly then immediately realized she had anywhere else to be before you could ask her to confirm.

"Ya can always ask him yerself." Yondu smirked, sure that like last time you wouldn't dare call Fury to confirm.

"Or I can not do that because I know he didn't," you countered.

"I wouldn't be too hasty girl," Yondu drawled. "'Cause what if I'm right? Ya leave without a buddy, and we can just call him and tell him ya broke his rules... and well, we all know what he said he'd do with ya if ya did that."

"You know, I didn't really take you to be such a snitch." You say, irritation clear in your voice. You knew it was at best childish, and at worst fighting words, but you were too frustrated to care.

Instead of being offended, Yondu just laughed and leaned back with his hands folded behind his head. "Gotta do something to pass the time. 'Sides, I think 'blackmail' has a nicer ring to it than 'snitchin'."

You glare at him, not giving him the satisfaction of telling him that he was technically right. This wasn't him being a snitch. This was blackmail. You just didn't understand why this was the hill he decided to die on.

He continued. "Yer better off to just save yerself the trouble and take Peter."

You eye him for a bit before deciding this time you would call his bluff. Partially because you knew he was lying, but also because a tiny part of you was afraid he wasn't, and you knew what would happen if he wasn't.

You dialed up Fury, knowing that the consequences for possibly annoying him with a dumb phone call were vastly less than what they'd be if you disobeyed an order, especially since you were already skating on thin ice. He also seemed to be less upset with you lately due to your 'good behavior,' so at least you had that going fo you. You almost thought you saw Yondu's smirk falter when you started dialing. Almost.

To your surprise, Fury answered after only a couple rings. You put the phone on speaker, and inform him your reason for calling was to confirm something that had been said.

"They're trying to tell me that when Agent Hill pulled me aside yesterday you instructed them to tell me that, under your orders, I am not allowed to drive into town without taking someone with me until my arm heals. Is that correct?"

Fury was quiet a moment before he answered, his voice seeming neutral. "I did not say that."

Yondu and Kraglin's faces fell slightly, and like a child you made a quiet, "Ha!" noise and stuck your tongue out at them, but before you could thank him, Fury spoke again.

"But I am now."

Your eyes widened and shot back to the phone, as if you'd be able to see your director in there. "I'm sorry, what?"

Yondu burst out laughing at your expression, and Kraglin joined in with a grin.

"Effective immediately I'm requiring you to bring a companion on any trips you make into town. Mr. Quill would be the safest choice, but as long as they pass for human, I don't care who it is."

You tried not to sputter. "Sir-... that-... Why-??"

"It's not a bad idea," he said cooly, adding, "and if you're gonna call me to settle a petty squabble then you better be prepared to get an outcome you aren't going to like." He didn't sound angry, more just matter-of-fact.

You blinked. Did he really just imply he was doing this just to annoy you? "Sir, I ask you to reconsid-"

"If you want to keep going, Agent, I can easily make this decision permanent."

This set off another round of laughter from the guys, including Peter from behind you who had walked into the kitchen with Gamora at some point. You didn't know how long they were standing there, but it seemed he had also heard Fury's decision.

With slight heat in your cheeks, you respond to your director. "No, sir."

"Good. Have a good day, Agent." Fury replied, and then hung up. If you didn't know better, you'd say his tone sounded almost amused.

You put the phone back in your pocket and rubbed your hand over your eyes while the others teased you.

"That's what ya get for not just listenin' to me in the first place, girl. Now ya really do have to do it!" Yondu laughed.

"I hate you," you say bluntly.

He only grinned in response and called over to Peter. "Ya heard the man, boy! Looks like yer takin' a trip!"

Peter grinned cheekily at you and you roll your eyes. "Fine. Get ready," you order as you walk past him and out of the kitchen. Then, seeing an opportunity to let out some frustration (probably misplaced in this instance, honestly) you turned back with a smirk and added, "This time don't forget to go potty before we leave!"

You turned away again, but not before being able to see the cheeky grin fall from his face and hear him yell back, "Not cool, dude!" along with some snickering from the others in the background.

Little did you know, though you probably should have, that decision to embarrass him would seal the fate of your nerves, and possibly your sanity as well, on the trip to come.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #kraglin obfonteri #nick fury #rocket raccoon

104 notes · View notes

sailorhyunjinz · 4 years ago

Text

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation.

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...)

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand.

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone.

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle.

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking.

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound.

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night.

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store.

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me”

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.”

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him.

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips.

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply.

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink.

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine.

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby.

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests.

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning.

“A job and you.”

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all.

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar.

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom.

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment.

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you.

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing.

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him.

“Already this wet, babygirl?”

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles.

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist.

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock.

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting.

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy.

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you.

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls.

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots.

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release.

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?”

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed.

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak.

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”.

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable.

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you.

199 notes · View notes

someonestolemyshoes · 3 years ago

Text

Stuck

My entry for @levihan-drabbles Smut Sunday event! My prompt this time was "Hange, why are you stuck there?". I might have gotten a little carried away, so this is uh...on the long side, but please enjoy anyway!

Warnings: dubious consent, if you squint. Explicit consent talks, too, but if that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable please be careful!

Her toes barely scraped the floor. The ladder had fallen too far away for her to reach, and without the use of her legs, Hange couldn't find purchase on anything to pull herself out of the loop.

She was stuck. In a trap for titans.

By all counts, Hange was having a terrible day.

She had been late to the morning's budget report, too wrapped up in her research notes and the blueprints for her new titan trap to notice the time. Erwin had chewed her out thoroughly for her tardiness, and, to add insult to injury, had denied her request for new materials to build the trap. She had argued as vehemently as she dared that the materials were a necessity in ensuring the sturdiness of the improved design and that, built correctly, the new apparatus would reduce risk to their soldiers by over 50%. Despite her best efforts, Erwin had been resolute in his rejection.

She had also missed breakfast. After the meeting, incensed by Erwin's refusal, she had taken straight to her lab to revamp the design, ignorant of the time until well past 10am. Breakfast had been cleared long before the growling of her stomach pulled her out of her focused scribbling.

And then she had spilled a cold mug of tea, who knows how old, onto her research notes from the last experiments. The dark liquid sank into the fabric and blurred the ink faster than Hange could react, leaving every scrawled graph and table and footnote completely illegible.

Hange should have known, then, with her run of luck, that today was not a day to take risks. She should have anticipated that more would go wrong, that something disastrous might happen. But each instance had only served to anger her further, and Hange felt resolved to solve something. To get one thing right.

Starting with the titan trap was evidently a mistake.

It was a risk to try toying with the thing all alone at the best of times. Clunky chains and thick, heavy ropes, intricately looped and knotted for strength, cross-hatched to make them more structurally sound. Hange was up on her ladder with her torso threaded through one of the giant loops, stomach braced on the rope as she leaned over to adjust the bolts in one of the chains, when part of the structure gave an ominous creak. Something, somewhere, snapped with a crack, and Hange's foot slipped off the ladder.

The ground rushed up to meet her. Hange braced herself for impact, but a few feet from the floor, she jerked abruptly to a stop. The rope punched roughly into her stomach, knocking the air out of her. She took a second, gasping, to catch her breath.

In a stroke of uncharacteristic luck, Hange had chosen to wear her goggles while working. Her glasses, she knew, would have fallen from her face and shattered to pieces. Another expense for Erwin to pay. Luckily, her goggles held firm--no extra cost for the Scouts, and wonderfully clear vision to take in the remains of the trap.

As it stands, she'd gotten very lucky indeed. A section of rope had snagged on one of the hooks on the wall, breaking her fall. Her stomach felt tender, and would no doubt bruise horribly, but she could only be thankful that it wasn't worse.

Now, though, she had a problem.

Her toes barely scraped the floor. The ladder had fallen too far away for her to reach, and without the use of her legs, Hange couldn't find purchase on anything to pull herself out of the loop.

She was stuck. In a trap for titans.

Hange let herself hang over the rope and puffed her hair out of his face. The lab was out of the way, no chance of anyone incidentally passing by—it would be a waste of energy to try calling for help. All she could do was hang here and wait until someone—Moblit, probably—came searching for her.

She hung there for what felt like a lifetime. The rope had been plenty uncomfortable in the beginning, but had long since become painful. She was desperately considering her possibilities for the millionth time, when she heard the sound of feet stomping in the corridor outside, and the door abruptly burst open.

"Oi, shitty glasses, you missed lu—"

Levi stopped short. The click of his boots scuffed to a halt. His fingers slipped off the door handle, the hinges squeaking loud in the otherwise silence. The click of the latch rang as loud as a gunshot.

Hange waved a hand. "Yo, Levi. A little help?"

"The hell are you doing?"

"There was an incident. It's not important—can you help me down?"

Levi, overcoming his surprise, managed to take a few more slow steps into the room. He walked a full circle around her, ducking rope and stepping over loose chains, taking in the sight with the same scrutiny he examines bookshelves for dust.

"This," he announced, after completing his examination, "is fucking ridiculous."

"It's not my finest moment," she conceded.

"What even is this shit?" Levi touched the rope, running his palm over it. His voice sounded a little distant, contemplative. Hange didn't for one second entertain the idea that he was curious about the mechanics of her titan trap, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was that intrigued him.

"Does it matter? As you can well see, I need some help."

Levi hummed. He gripped the rope a little harder, followed it down to where it was digging into her waist. He gave it a little tug; Hange coughed out a breath when the movement jostled her. She suspected that Levi was trying to figure out how exactly she had gotten stuck. When his gaze travelled up to the hook, she assumed she was correct, and hoped that, armed with this knowledge, he might try freeing her. He stepped a little further behind her, out her direct line of sight. Hange waited impatiently for him to help get her out of the trap.

But then, he did something Hange hadn't expected him to do at all.

He touched her leg.

To an outsider, it might have been an innocent thing. Something designed to soothe, maybe; nothing more or less than the simple touch of one's palm to another's thigh.

But Hange knew Levi. Hange knew that Levi was not one for casual touch. There were very few instances in which Levi touched anyone, and most were unfavourable--upon grievous injury, commonly, or else holding a comrades hand when death comes calling. But there is one other occasion in which Levi will touch her, at least. One other scenario where his hand might find itself on her leg, or her hip, or her waist. Up her shirt. Down her pants.

It's not all that often. Maybe a dozen times, give or take, over the years they've known one another. But it follows a very strict pattern: they have a shitty day. They drink. They get too close. They drink some more. Smoke, maybe, if they've ventured to a bar where they can snag a cigarette to share. Drink again, though at some point they give up ordering their own, and start passing the same goblet back and forth. Levi's leg will nudge up against hers. Hange leans heavily into him. She blames it on the drink, giggles a half assed apology into his ear. He lets her. They search for somewhere private—their quarters, if they're patient enough. Close enough. A back alley has done fine on more than one occasion.

And then, they fuck.

Sex, Hange had once thought, was a rather romantic notion. Two becoming one and all that. Something couples did, an act of feeling so absolute, so all-encompassing, that making love was the only way to truly express it. Older, and wiser, Hange knows now that sex can be many different things. Sex can be romantic, but it can also be rough, animalistic. Sex can come from frustration, from desperation, from an itchy beneath the skin that nothing else will scratch. Sex with Levi, more often than not comes from anger and sadness and manifests in a clash of lips, grabbing, yanking hands, the sharp bite of teeth. It comes from a desire to do something, anything, to relieve the helpless, hopeless feeling when they've done all that they could and somehow, it still isn't enough. A guilty, sordid undertaking, high on fumes with the dark of the night to hide them.

Sex with Levi has never begun like this, with Hange hanging from a makeshift harness in her lab in broad daylight.

It's not that she's against the idea, per se. There are times when Hange feels that restless ache without the weight of grief sagging her bones—times when she thinks it might be nice to find Levi in his room, or invite him into hers, close the doors and let loose. Enjoy the pleasure of it without the bite of pain.

But now, she thought, shivering when Levi's hand slid around to the inside of her thigh, was not the time.

Levi seemed to have other ideas.

His thumb brushed back and forth over her leg.

"Not that this isn't nice," she said slowly, "but is now really the best time?"

Levi, standing behind her now, gave a noncommittal hum. His other hand came to rest rather boldly on her ass, thumb running lightly up the centre seam of her trousers. Hange sucked in a sharp breath.

"Can it wait? I'm a little uncomfortable here."

Levi acted as though he hadn't heard her. It made Hange huff. Either he was deliberately ignoring her, or he was too preoccupied to listen and respond appropriately. Hange suspected the former, though when she shot him a look rather awkwardly over her shoulder, she did find him gazing quite intently at his own hand on her backside.

Hange had never really considered that Levi might be receptive to the idea of sex outside their current, unofficial arrangement. He never seemed all that interested—in her or in anyone else. His disinterest was so pronounced, that it had shocked her the first time he had touched her—she had reciprocated with equal ferocity, but the initial hunger of his touch had surprised her. Even then, when she had grown accustomed to the uninhibited way he would touch her during their meetings, he had seemed perfectly indifferent whenever they were together in any other circumstance. He retained his perpetual, bored expression, and gave her no indication that he even found her attractive, let alone had any interest.

And yet, here he was. Eyes flitting over his view of her ass and legs, his hands roving almost reverently over her. Hange blew out a loud breath.

"My legs are going dead, Levi. Help me down."

Levi ticked his tongue at her. "Oi, all trussed up like that and you expect me not to look?"

For a second, shock quieted her pleading. Her mouth snapped shut and her cheeks grew uncomfortably hot. Levi's tone had been low, gravelly. The kind of voice he used when he hissed filth in her ear, hand at her throat and cock driving into her fast and hard. To hear something so calm from him, in that voice, sent a rush of warmth straight to her crotch.

"You've looked plenty," Hange said. She squirmed when his hand slipped higher still between her legs, finger running back and forth along the seam of her pants. The pressure against her clit made her writhe, forced a groan from her. She shifted her legs restlessly, searching desperately for some purchase, but found nothing. Levi, face inexpressive, cupped her fully, letting his thumb push against where he knew her opening was. Hange choked.

"Levi," she gasped, toes scrabbling at the floor. "Levi, c'mon—at least—nngh—at least let me d-down first." It was embarrassing, the way her voice grew higher with each word, until she was almost squealing.

"You look good here," he said plainly.

"Well, that's swell," she wheezed. "But I—ah—am a little uncomfortable."

Levi's hand was still cupping her. Her fingers rubbing lazily at her clit, his thumb threatening to press into her through the thick fabric. Hange let out a high whine and wriggled.

"Levi," she implored. "It hurts—the rope, its—digging in." She finished with an embarrassingly loud moan, because Levi chose that moment to let his mouth replace his thumb, pressing over her. Hot air bled straight through her trousers, right onto her cunt.

"It's painful?" He asked. Hange felt his words vibrate against her. For one incredibly stupid moment, she considered telling to forget about that, to keep his mouth on her instead—but it did hurt, and as good as Levi's every puff of breath felt, as the pressure of his tongue poking out to rub at her felt, she needed to get down.

"Yeah," she breathed. Hange suspected then that Levi truly hadn't considered that her position would hurt. They were used persistent press of the 3DMG belts, all held scars and bruises from the leather where it took the brunt of their weight during use—Levi likely hadn't expected the rope to be too different. But it was much bigger, and Hange had slammed down onto it with enough force to wind her. She told him so with great difficulty, for he was seemingly fixated on touching her with his fingers and his mouth. At length, however, he pulled away.

"Fine, hold on."

With an arm hooked around her upper thighs, Levi hefted Hange up a little higher, taking her weight off the ropes. Hange let out a relieved sigh as the pressure on her waist eased—blood rushed to the flesh where the rope had pinched and dug into her, making the tender skin throb. Levi used his other hand to yank at the restraints until the section that had been snagged to the hook came loose, then steadied Hange with a palm pressed flush to the flat of her stomach, and lowered her to the ground.

Hange knew Levi was strong. Humanities strongest, after all. But that title was in awe of his titan killing abilities. It spoke nothing of his brute strength. The ropes and chains were heavy, moving them usually took a couple of people at least. Levi had managed to hold her up and shake the ropes loose like they weighed nothing at all. The thought sent an embarrassing thrill of heat through her.

Hange's toes hit the ground first, but she made no effort to get her feet firmly beneath her. They sank down together until Hange's knees hit the floor. She straightened her torso up, spine popping in several places as she did.

"That's better," she breathed. Levi only hummed as he helped her disentangle herself from the mess of rope and chain. He heaved it aside once she was free, and crouched behind her. Her shirt had ridden up during their manoeuvring, revealing a thin strip of pale flesh at the bottom of her back. Hange could feel a cool draught blowing over the exposed skin, but it was followed swiftly by something a hair more solid, the ghost of a touch that made goosebumps pinch at the back of her neck. Levi's fingertip, trailing featherlight above the waistband of her pants.

Hange sucked in a quick breath. She'd thought that Levi was done tormenting her, now that he'd freed her from her confines; she'd expected to be left flustered and frustrated on the lab floor, but Levi, it seemed, wasn't finished with her yet. He hooked his finger into one of her belt loops and yanked up and back. Hange jerked forward, slapping her palms into the ground to keep her balance as Levi raised her hips up. The fabric of her trousers, already a little tight, pulled taut—the seam pressed painfully against her sensitive clit. She whimpered through clenched teeth and gathered her knees more solidly under her in an effort to relieve the pressure.

"Fuck, Levi," she hissed. She glared over her shoulder at him to find his gaze sweeping over her. The thing with Levi was, he never looked impressed. It was impossible to tell, in moments like this, with his sharp eyes travelling over her, whether he was pleased with what he saw or simply satisfied that his view wasn't terrible. "Do you have to be so rough?"

"You've never complained before."

Hange flushed. She tried to form a suitable response, something biting to retort with, but her mind could focus only on one thing; Levi's hand, gliding up the length of her spine now, pushing the fabric of her shirt until it bunched beneath her shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

Levi said nothing. He skimmed both palms, this time, from her upper back to her hips, and back up again, fingers curving to follow the contour of her waist, her ribs. With her breath held, it was quiet enough for Hange to hear the way Levi's callouses caught the bandage binding her chest. His thumbnail scratched lightly at one point where the wrappings met her skin, hooking beneath it. Hange tensed, and Levi's movements ceased abruptly.

"Can I take this off?"

Hange shook her head. "Not today," she said. And then, quiet and a little guilty, "sorry."

"It's fine."

He withdrew his hands from near her chest. One hit the ground beside her, while the other sunk to her hip, fingers digging into her groin. He pulled her back towards him until her ass was flush to his hips, and at the same time, Hange felt his torso rest against her back, the buttons of his shirt pressing cool into her heated skin. His mouth settled open and hot at the base of her neck. Hange shivered as his tongue laved over the skin there, a choked out little sigh stuttering out of her—she felt hot, trapped; prey pinned by a hungry predator. It sent a tremulous thrill zipping up her spine.

Levi's teeth sunk into the back of her neck. "Down."

Hange obliged without thought. Arms folding, back arching, she sunk low until her chest met the hard floor.

"Good," Levi hummed, pleased. His voice was deep, hoarse, and barely loud enough to register, but Hange could feel the rumble of it shudder right up her spine. The change in her position made it harder for him to reach the bare skin of her neck, but she could feel, acutely, the heat of his breath billowing through the layers covering her upper back. He always had an aura of calm about him, and an unreadable expression that bordered on indifference, but there was something in the heavy pant of his breath that exposed his excitement. It was gratifying to know she wasn't the only one.

When she was settled, Levi straightened up. Hange could feel his eyes roving over her, but flat to the ground as she was, with her face tucked into her folded arms, she could see nothing. She jumped when his hands cupped her waist, almost tenderly; he stroked his thumbs over the skin where the rope had been. It hurt, aching in the way heavy bruises do, but when Levi's fingertips pressed a touch deeper into the welts stretching over her stomach, she squirmed, and not altogether from discomfort.

"Is it painful?" He asked, almost absently.

"A little," Hange wheezed. Levi made a thoughtful little sound, brushing his thumb and fingers back and forth over the wounds, and then he shifted back—cool air flooded into the space between their hips, and Hange almost cried out in disappointment—but before she could complain about the absence of his touch, she felt instead his impossibly soft lips, smoothing over the spot his hands had been. First one side, then over to the other.

Hange's muscles flexed and twitched beneath her skin as Levi kissed her. In the handful of times they had fucked before, tender kisses had never been a part of the equation. Everything was rough, biting, scratching, choking, gripping so hard they left fingerprint bruises on each others skin. Hange had never walked away without a limp in her step and a satisfying ache in her hips, the kind that lingered for days on end, as a reminder of what they had done. In their handful of whirlwind encounters, Levi had never kissed any part of her like that. As though she were something fragile. Something precious.

Hange almost straightened herself up to look at him. He lingered so long with his gentle ministrations that Hange thought, for a moment, he might have abandoned their romp in favour of laving her in his silent apologies. But then he shifted, lips dragging to the centre of her spine and down, down, until he found her waistband, and his hands looped around to the front of her pants, finding the buckle and deftly unfastening it.

He was in no particular hurry. He took his time, running his tongue across the bottom of her back as his fingers worked open the buttons on her fly, and explored the newly exposed skin at his leisure. The tips of his fingers, at first, dipping just beneath the elastic of her underwear, running from hip to hip and eliciting shivers and huffed out breaths from Hange as he went. And then he pressed lower, until his fingers found coarse hair. He took his time here, too, allowing his touch to stray near to where she wanted it before dancing away again. Hange grit her teeth in frustration, her hips swaying of their own accord, curling and wriggling, trying desperately to meet his idle fingers. His spare hand brushed up the outside of her thigh, soothing at first, and then he gripped her tight, limiting her motion.

She could feel his smile press against the bottom of her back.

Hange hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of begging. She tried what she could to keep her mouth shut; bit her lip, bit her knuckles, bit into the sleeve of her jacket, huffing panting, needy breaths through her nose in an effort to stifle the whines and pleading moans that threatened to spill out. And she had thought, for a moment, that she had succeeded—Levi finally graced her with the touch she desired, rough fingertips grazing over her clit, swollen and aching now, desperate for attention. Her hips bucked and she moaned, knees instinctively spreading wider. But then, the touch passed. Levi's fingers brushed along her groin instead, withdrawing. Hange's throat tightened, a frustrated lump forming, choking her.

"Levi." She had hoped to sound more angry, but her voice came out high and tight. Desperate. She bit hard at her lip.

"Hm? What?"

"You know what," she hissed. It was absurd, how badly she felt like crying. Her need was bordering on painful; a throbbing, pulsating kind of desire, hot and heavy between her legs. She felt almost dizzy with it.

Levi had never teased her before. Sex was perfunctory; a means to an end. A quick, rough fuck, just another way to burn off steam, like sparring, or running. Feeding a specific hunger; scratching a persistent itch. Drawing things out was never a part of the equation. Hange didn't know how to handle the building tension—her body screamed for relief, release, anything, but Levi seemed perfectly at his leisure. Unhurried.

"Touch me," she grit out, splaying her legs wider still. Levi rubbed his hand against her lower belly. "Please."

"You said now was a bad time, before," he said. He must have anticipated Hange's indignance, for he closed over her and pinned her chest down with a hand between her shoulder blades before she had a chance to straighten up.

"That was before," Hange ground out. "You've started something now. Finish it."

Levi made a quiet, thoughtful sound. Hange twisted her face to one side, flushed cheek pressed to the cool floor, and tried to gauge his expression. It was as unreadable as ever. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, face impassive.

And then, without preamble, he sunk his hand deeper into her pants, and pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger.

Hange swore loudly. Her hips jerked at the sudden touch. It was bordering on painful. Usually, rough was fine. Rough was good. Sex for them was often something like fighting, so Hange was no stranger to these aggressive touches. Usually, she delighted in it. Levi had learned her body well, toed the line between pain and pleasure with the same innate expertise he had for killing titans. Quick and efficient.

But this, for some reason, was too much. Hange twitched painfully and gasped his name, freeing one of her arms and reaching beneath herself, gripping tightly to Levi's wrist.

"Levi—too much."

Levi's touch stopped. His fingers splayed over her lower belly again, thumb rubbing back and forth as Hange released a shuddering breath.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked plainly. He sounded unbothered, almost bored, but Hange knew him better; the fact that he had even asked spoke volumes of his concern.

"A little," she said. Levi curled over her and dropped a kiss to the middle of her back. He mumbled a sorry so quiet Hange barely heard him.

"It's fine," she said. "Just...not so rough, next time? I'm too sensitive."

Levi ran his tongue up the trench of her spine, between the hard ridges of muscle, and hummed quietly. He let his fingers wander back to her clit again, but they settled over her far more gently. She gasped, and moaned quietly. Levi rubbed light circles over her, eliciting more soft little sounds. Hange was used to being vocal, and Levi was used to trying to shut her up, with a hand clamped over her mouth or his fingers depressing her tongue, but he made no move to quiet her this time. She bit her lip and breathed, harsh and uneven, through her nose as Levi's strokes found a rhythm. The weight of his chest rested fully on her back.

Hange could easily imagine the same weight pressed against her as he fucked her, pinned her down and buried himself deep within her. She could imagine the way he'd grind into her, barely withdrawing an inch but still punching the air from her lungs when he pushed all the way back in.

He was shifting over her now, his body twitching in quick, jerky motions that didn't match up with the way his fingers were rubbing her. Belatedly, Hange realised that the hand not playing with her clit was nowhere to be found; he wasn't bracing on the ground, nor touching any part of her body. Raising herself up a little, Hange turned to look behind her, and let out a low, guttural moan.

Levi's spare hand was down the front of his own pants. He stroked himself off with quick, uneven strokes, his face pressed against her back. Hange could feel his hitching, panted breaths against her skin.

She breathed his name and pushed her hips back, seeking him. Searching for the pressure of his cock against her cunt, something to ease the heavy need there. She bumped against him once, twice, before Levi withdrew his hand from his pants to grip at her hip, pulling her back.

"Fuck, Hange," he rasped. He pressed his forehead into her back and ground his hips forward, pressing desperately against her. He must be able to feel her, how wet she was, even through the layers she still wore, for she could easily feel the heat radiating from his cock as it strained against her trousers. Hange whimpered, resisting every urge to shove back onto him. She wanted him to inside her, wanted to feel the stretch as he fucked her open; wanted the delicious ache as he buried himself to the hilt within her, the satisfaction of being full.

Levi curved himself over her, craning until his lips and teeth nipped at the back of her neck. The head of his cock nudged right at her opening and Hange let out a quiet, needy moan, pushing her hips back towards him.

"Hange," he said. Hange gave a shaky hum in acknowledgement. "When did you last bleed?"

Disappointment and a deep, loathing kind of frustration washed over her. Her face twisted in a grimace and her hands, balled into fists, smacked against the stone. She dropped her forehead to the floor, swearing under her breath, and mumbling her response. Levi pinched her hip, brushed his lips over her skin.

"I can't hear you, stupid."

Louder, she moaned, "Last week."

"Ah."

Too recent. Hange could hear the pang of disappointment in Levi's tone, too. He was just as worked up as she was, hard and straining, and it must be torture for him to feel Hange so ready for him, wet, tight, eager. Inviting. But the timing was off. Too soon after her last bleed. Not worth the risk. Levi knew it, and Hange knew it too, but that didn't stop her from wriggling against him, hips easing back, searching for him, desperate for his length to split her open.

Levi let out a low growl and ground against her. Hange half wanted to resign herself to an unsatisfying release, to guide Levi's attention back to her neglected clit and get off quickly, but before she could regain his attention, Levi withdrew his hand from her pants completely, and instead yanked them over her ass, and worked them a little way down her thighs. His breath felt hot and fast gainst the back of her neck as he tugged at the tight fabric. Hange felt his cock bare against her. She shivered and sucked in a quivering breath.

"What are you doing?"

"I wanna fuck you," he said simply. Hange whimpered. She wanted to spread her legs wider, make room for him between them, but her trousers, wrapped around her thighs now, prevented her from opening them, and besides—

"We shouldn't—Levi, we can't."

He made a gruff sound against her. Hange could feel his fingers trembling as he gripped the outside of one thigh, pushed her legs closer together. Hange shuffled the other further in to keep her balance, head spinning. Levi shifted so his knees, either side of hers, kept her thighs pinned together.

They couldn't—it wasn't worth the risk, she knew, and every logical part of her screamed that they should stop now, before they made a mistake. Levi dug his face between her shoulder blades and his hand reached between them, wrapping around his cock and giving it a few jerky pumps. He guided it close; Hange felt the smooth head nudge against her dripping entrance.

"We can't," she said again, weakly. "Levi, we—"

Her breath hitched as Levi applied a little pressure. She could feel herself beginning to stretch for him, opening up as he pressed a little into her. She gasped, groaned, shifted her weight; she meant to move forward, away, but her hips sank helplessly back instead. She almost sobbed in relief as the stretch increased, the sensation dizzying, delicious. She tried again to spread her legs, but Levi's legs locked her in place.

"Levi—Levi, please—" Hange wasn't wasn't sure what she was pleading for. For him to stop, before they went too far, or for him to drive into her, fuck her until she couldn't stand. She felt him hiss against her back.

"Wanna be inside you," he breathed. "Fuck, Hange—you feel so good."

Hange could barely keep herself still. It took every ounce of strength to keep some presence of mind, to hold her trembling hips in place, but it felt like a losing battle. She wanted to feel full, fucked out and satiated. She wanted to feel every inch of him spreading her open, wanted him to fuck and fill her until he was spent, until he had nothing left to give. They shouldn't, they couldn't—but Hange had never wanted anything more in her entire life. To deprive herself was the cruellest thing.

Levi came to his senses before she did. He growled loudly, teeth bared, frustration evident, but he pulled his cock away from her opening and drove instead between her legs, right up against the apex of her thighs. The head of his cock bumped her clit and Hange let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a wail. He tightened his knees against hers, wedging her legs as tight together as he could. He let out a low moan, pulling back slowly, savouring the tightness of her thighs pressed around him. Hange squirmed and squeezed her legs together, desperate to keep his cock pressed up against her. She ground her brow into the ground and let out a harsh, ragged breath. Levi brushed his lips against the edge of the coarse bandage, over the nearest patch of skin.

"What I'd fucking give to be inside you now," Levi breathed, strained. He drove his hips forward at a slow, building pace. Hange squeezed her eyes closed and pushed her hips back to meet him. "Fuck you just like this."

Hange whimpered out her yes, and reached down to pull one of Levi's hands from her hips, guiding it to her clit. He applied a dizzying pressure there, pressing down and rolling his fingertips against her, and the combination of that, plus the length of his cock gliding so temptingly against her, was enough to make her thighs tremble.

"Next time," he grunted. Once or twice he pulled back a little too far and for a moment the head of his cock nestled back against her entrance before popping free and sliding between her thighs again. Each time, Hange guiltily hoped he would slip inside, that they would ignore the consequences, leave it as a problem for another time. It made her twitch, and whine, and fuck her hips back harder against him.

His fingers rubbed rougher circles over her. Hips bucked harder. Hange felt the tension winding low in her gut, in her thighs--her breathing, already ragged, began to hitch and hold, punching out short little mewls and sucking in quick, uneven gasps.

"Close—Levi, I—hah—I'm gonna come—"

Levi gave an affirming grunt against her shoulder blade and fought to keep his pace even. Levi wasn't much of a gentleman in any common sense of the term, but no matter what they did, how quick and harsh sex was between them, Levi always made sure Hange finished first. It was chivalrous, in a way. She might have laughed at the thought if her orgasm didn't cut her off, choking the sound in her throat. Her mouth opened in a silent moan as her body drew impossibly tight, impossibly tense—and then the tension broke, and she was left shuddering, incoherent, disjointed sounds bleeding out of her, eyes watering with relief. Levi rode her through it, and then followed after her, with a few hard, jarring thrusts and a grunt muffled against her back. Hange felt him spill up her belly and onto the floor beneath them.

Without his hands to hold her hips up, Hange sank down to lie flat on the floor. Levi followed her down, pressed to her back, and together they lay there, gathering their senses and catching their breaths.

After a moment, Levi rolled off of her, and sat up. Hange pushed herself upright on shaking arms. She took in the mess—on her front, on the floor, between her legs. Heat rushed through her, sweeping into her stomach. In her lab, of all places.

"Stupid Levi," Hange said. She tugged up her pants and sat on her backside, levelling a kick at Levi's knee. He had already tucked himself into his pants with a grimace, but he was too sluggish post-orgasm to dodge her. "Anyone could have walked in here!"

"They didn't."

"They could have! What if Erwin had come looking for me, huh? Or Mike? What about poor Moblit!"

For a second, Levi looked like he might smile. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Hange flushed hot at the memory. Poor Moblit, she thought, guiltily recalling their first needy fumbling in Hange's office. She had been drunk—they both were, probably too drunk to reasonably consider the consequences of their actions—and Moblit, ever the loyal sidekick, had only come to check Hange had made it to bed. He'd hoped to find her sleeping soundly. He certainly hadn't expected to find her sprawled back on the desk with Levi's face between her thighs.

"You wanna scar the poor bastard again?" Hange hissed. Levi shrugged. Hange narrowed her eyes at him; perhaps she was imagining it, but she could have sworn she saw something in his expression that looked almost smug. Hange huffed at him.

They fell into a strange silence. Hange busied herself kicking and dragging the remains of the titan trap to the side of the room. She piled the ropes up as neatly as she could manage, while Levi used a napkin to wipe up the mess on the floor. Then he simply sat back and watched her. After a moment, he spoke.

"Did you mind? Me touching you like that."

Hange looked over at him. His face gave nothing away, no hint of guilt or trepidation at all, but there had been something in his tone; a hesitance to voice the question out loud.

"You're asking me that now?"

Levi turned his eyes away from her.

"I figured you'd let me know. If you really hadn't wanted to."

"Most people just ask before they start feeling someone up, you know. Saves all the confusion."

Hange had meant it in a teasing way, with her tone light and her lips turned up in a wry smile, but Levi paled after she'd spoken, eyes a fraction wider than normal.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Screwed up his face, then said, "I don't—I never want to—" He let out an annoyed huff, and ran a hand back through his hair. It was perhaps the most flustered Hange had ever seen him. "I'm not into that shit. I don't get off on making people do shit they don't wanna do."

There was something imploring about the way he looked at her, after that, as though he needed her to listen. As though it were important to him that she understand.

"I know," Hange said, struck by the sudden need to soothe him. He had lost all colour, and looked oddly distressed. "I know. And you're right, I'd have let you know if I didn't like any of it."

It took a long moment, but the tension in Levi's shoulders relaxed a fraction. Hange plopped down to sit next to him and nudged her shoulder to his.

"Maybe we should get a safe word for next time." She grinned, then laughed when Levi weakly elbowed her. "How do you feel about titans."

Levi scowled at her. His eyes looked dark and broody as ever, but there was a pinch to his cheeks, as though he was trying not to smile. "How do you feel about fuck off."

"Nah, you say that too much. What about Erwin's toupee."

"I don't wanna think about Erwin when I'm fucking you."

Hange's face heated a little at the brazenness in which he said it. She laughed, and said, "how about eyebrows?"

Levi grimaced. "Still Erwin."

Hange laughed a little harder. She leaned into him, so close that when he twisted his head to look at her, his fringe tickled her face.

"I kinda like it. Nice and snappy."

Levi tipped closer to her. His nose brushed against hers.

"How about stop talking shit," he said. Hange felt his breath blow hot over her lips, smelled the rich, perfume scent of the tea he'd drunk at lunch. Their brows bumped clumsily together. Levi pressed closer, more solidly to her.

"Too long," she breathed. Levi hummed quietly, tilting his face up so his nose nudged along hers. "Can we go back to titans?"

"Whatever. Use whatever shitty word you want." His voice had gone strangely low, and just a touch breathless. Hange felt her own breath catch somewhere in her chest.

"Titans it is," she said. Levi's lips were so close, Hange could feel them brushing against hers when she spoke. She and Levi had kissed a few times. The sloppy, biting kind of kiss, hot and furious. It was always part of the process—A to B, kissing to fucking. It was never something sweet, or gentle. They never kissed for the simple sake of kissing.

Hange found herself wanting to, now. She wanted to close the breath of distance between them and feel Levi's soft lips against her own. It was an outrageous thing to want, really. Kissing without the promise of something more, it strayed into unfamiliar territory for them. Dangerous territory. Hange had sworn her heart to humanity, same as Levi had—but right now, hers was beating out of her chest for him.

Levi let his mouth touch barely against hers. Hange's eyes fluttered closed and she waited, heart pounding, for him to make some kind of move. To pull away or press closer, either, something.

Instead, he said, quiet and rasping, "this safe word. How does it work?"

Hange rolled her brow against his. "You just say it, if there's something you don't want to do, or if you want to stop."

Levi made a thoughtful sound. Hange felt his fingers graze over hers where her hand was braced on the floor.

"So you'd say titans, if you didn't want me to kiss you now?"

Hange let out a long breath. She nodded, but said nothing more. Levi waited. Hange made no noise at all, and after a moment, Levi tipped his face up and kissed her sweetly. Simple, chaste, his lips pressed against hers. He sighed out a trembling breath through his nose.

They stayed like that for too long, for a kiss so simple, but Hange hadn't wanted to pull away. It was warm, comfortable. She felt pleasantly content. Levi was the first to move, and when Hange opened her eyes she caught sight of his own eyelids fluttering, blinking rapidly, as though he had just awoken from a dream. He licked his lips.

"Not bad," he said. Hange rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder.

"I'll take whatever compliment I can get, coming from you," she said. She dragged herself to her feet, dusting the back of her pants. She grimaced at the tacky, drying wetness in her underwear. "C'mon. I need a shower. And you said I missed lunch, right? No wonder I'm starving!"

Hange held out her hand for him. Levi took it, climbing to his feet while Hange hefted him off the floor. He looked equally uncomfortable with the situation in his own clothing, tugging at the sticky fabric with an angry frown. Hange hooked her arm through his and pulled him out of the lab, pausing only to lock the door behind them. Levi kept step with her as they walked down the corridor. If her closeness, or her happy, out of tune humming bothered him, he didn't show it. They were approaching the end of the hallway when Hange dug her elbow into his ribs lightly.

"Next time," she said, "if you insist on fucking me somewhere inappropriate, we're doing it in Erwin's office. I don't want to put poor Moblit at risk again."

Levi pulled a disgusted face, shoving at her. Hange teetered out of his reach, gleeful.

"On his desk, maybe. Or in his chair. His room is attached, right? Maybe even in his bed—”

"Titans, Hange. For fucks sake, titans."

#levihan #snk #side note: titans is a bad safe word for Levihan!!#my writing #ahahaha I haven't written smut in a hot minute BOY

103 notes · View notes

uniquevocashark · 4 years ago

Text

A Good Servant

Part 1 of ?

Summary: You would do anything to keep her happy: be it keeping her pet healthy, running her house or making her wine. Everything but for what you both want.

Some content warnings for this part: there's heavily referenced sex/sexual activity, pet play (not with the reader, this is an angsty prologue fic), brief mention of adultery, casual contemplation of murder, brief mention of whipping and a joke made about catholics. If I missed anything that you think should be tagged, dm me and I'll add it.

You start down the hallway before you can stop to think, holding the tray aloft in one hand. It's very easy to hear the strangled sounds of Lady Dimitrescu's most recent pet, some twenty something woman from the village, which only makes your job that much harder.

As you had been here for quite some time, you knew one of the most taboo acts was to interrupt her during 'training'. As you got closer you could hear her voice clear as day, offering soothing encouragements before the snap of a crop reached your ears.

You stop just before the door, wondering briefly if she'd use it on you for interrupting. But you couldn't send the heads of the other families away, so you steal yourself, rebalanced the tray and knock thrice.

There's a shuffle and her pet screams louder than before, followed by a half slurred string of begging and moans.

You purse your lips. You knock again, thrice, harder this time. You finally hear the Lady curse, some Romanian word you can't quite grasp yet, followed by quick shushing of her pet. You hold the tray carefully and take a precautionary step back.

She slams the door open and you catch a fleeting look at her black silk underwear before you shift your gaze into the room. Her pet, whose name you don't know and dotn care to learn, sits uncomfortably on the floor beside her masters bed.

"What is it?" Lady Dimitrescu snarls down at you, and you look up at the filigree decorating the wall beside her head.

"The Heisenbergs and Moreau are here to see you, Madame. They bear a seal from Mother Miranda." You handover the letter one of them gave you and fill her glass while she reads it.

You drop a bit of her special wine into it and hand it over. She eyes you carefully, taking a lemon slice. "Help me dress." She says and walks back into her room.

The hallway beckons but you follow her in anyway. She won't kill you, not while Mother Miranda has need of you, but you know she forgets how fragile people are sometimes. Her pet is a keen example; she clearly hasn't slept much due to her servicing, she's bruised all over and the way her lips wobble stirs some momentary pity in you.

Unfortunately for her, any stronger feelings have long since been cut away and seeing her in such a state only brings up questions of how you can improve. Still, you try to put on some faux sympathy for her.

You fill the smaller glass and hand it to her pet with a small platter of apple slices. When you look over to Lady Dimitrescu her brows are raised.

"She hasn't eaten for two days, Madame." You say instead of explaining. It had been one of the cooks ideas, someone that knew her.

Clearly, Lady Dimitrescu didn't realise that, "Of course," she replies crisply, her tone too sharp, "You may eat, pet."

Without waiting, you walk over to her closet to pick a dress. They are the same style and differ in their colour scheme; three are the same shade of light cream, twelve are pure white and three more are tinged grey. You pick out a light cream one with matching undergarments when she calls you over.

You've been working for her a long time, excess of seven years, so you know how she prefers to be dressed after stringent activity. You slip her bra on and her underwear. Slowly, you put her stockings on, as to not rip the expensive fabric, and clip them to her garter belt.

Lady Dimitrescu choses which garter she wears each day rather than have you or her personal amod do so, today it is the one that tangles easily. Its notorious among the staff for how difficult it is to put on. You know your way around it, though, fastening it quickly about her hips and thighs. "Have you put any thought into what I asked earlier, Madame?"

Lady Dimitrescu scoffs, sipping her water, "I have a personal maid." She jerks her chin to her pet, who has been munching as quietly as possible on the apple slices.

"Yes," you say lightly, helping her step through into her dress, "I merely doubt she will have time to deal with any duties other than those of a pet."

She eyes you dangerously and sets her cup down. You ignore the passive aggressive ploy to retrieve the step ladder in the closet. You flick it open and climb it as you pull her dress up, admiring the muscles of her back when she flexes subtly, then guide her arms into the sleeves.

"Who do you recommend, my gracious head of staff?" She croons when you work your way up the buttons of her dress.

You overexargerate your sigh at her playful tone. You catch her smile in the mirror and go back to buttoning. It is much harder to accept some days that this cannot last forever.

"Jessica is a cheery and dedicated worker with a strong back for lashings should she ever disappoint," her pet looks at you with mild horror that you file away and you try to strain your voice a little more towards reluctance, "Mihaela may suit your temper better, she has a quiet nature, has little care for material things and does her best to avoid punishment." That and her aggressive asides about the Lady would stop if she wanted to live.

Lady Dimitrescu moves over to her vanity, and you follow, grabbing the scissors attached to your chatelain and three roses from the vase on her desk. "Who else?" She asks, flicking the cap off her lipstick.

"Louise may suit as well," You say as you clip the stalks, "but Miss Daniela has taken a fancy to her. It would not be the wisest choice. There is also Rachel but she is pregnant with the gardeners child."

"Leave it to humans to rut like base animals on my property," she taps her lips thoughtfully, "Wasn't Rachel married?"

"She is, Madame."

"Do you remember to whom?"

You pause in your arranging of the flowers on her breast and she catches your eye with a smile that burns you, "It was to the southern most butcher. One of the Bradleys, I believe."

She clicks her tongue, breaking eye contact, and you move to brush her silky hair out before she repins it. "Tell Heisenbergs retainer to have her husband brought here. It may be time to cull that wretched family," she paused, sipping again at her water, "Also, Mihaela will do, inform her after the meeting."

"Of course, Madame." You set the brush down, and grab her powder, dusting it onto her cheeks as she fixes the curls back into her hair. She is most beautiful like this, when her face turns delicately pensive and she stills almost completely. You almost wonder what it would be like, with her, and have to take an extra second to cool your heating face.

When she turns to you, with that deliberate, unabashed affection stealing the faux indifference from her face, it makes your heart quake in a way you haven't felt before. You have to look away before you both do something stupid. Deliberately, you plant your hand on her shoulder to keep her at a distance and stare intently at her ear as you put her earrings on.

Her pet has come to sit at your feet, Lady Dimitrescu running her fingers through her hair and you vaguely wonder what it would be like. What if you were there instead and what if this and that and everything else you could want but can't have. Neither of you will cross Mother Miranda.

Her pet gives you the dishes, the glass and plate empty. You move away from them, so that you're not tempting anything again and refill the glass.

"Shall I also have inquiries made about a new gardener, madame?" You ask as you hand the glass back, then move to gather together a suitable outfit for her pet.

The softness is gone from her face and you tell yourself you're glad of it. "Yes, someone more appropriate."

"Not a Catholic then?" You ask innocently. She chuckles warmly and you go about dressing her pet with a little smile. "And would you prefer the current one be brought to your daughters or sent straight to the cellar?"

She regards you seriously in the mirror, and you stare back into her golden eyes before returning to fixing the bow on the back of her pets dress, "Bring him to me when I'm next available."

You usher her pet back to her seat, putting the cups back on the tray, "That would be after dinner for today, or at three tomorrow evening."

"After dinner will be fine." She replies, eating the rest of her lemon. She hands you the skin, her fingers brushing yours deliberately, and you take longer than needed to deposit it on the plate.

"The families are gathered in the dining hall, Madame. I had the kitchen staff prepare a light brunch."

"Tell them I'll be there momentarily."

"As you say, my Lady." You curtsy as you leave. You make a note to have Rachel serve dinner and to watch the Lady's pet while she's busy. You may even go so far as to ask the cook to make a broth; this pet seems to make her happy and you are determined that her pet remains able to do so.

It's all you can do, after all.

Hey, little note:

This is a multi chapter fic with a planned unhappy ending because Courtly Love Trope doesn't usually end well. There will also be references to Resident Evil lore from previous games. Do I care if its accurate? No, not at all. Resi purists beware this fic. And thanks for reading!

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #angst #specified age do not touch #my writing #A Good Servant #light angst this part lads #it gets worse #:)#IVE REALLY BEEN CONTEMPLATING WHETHER I SHOULD EVEN POST THIS #but its here now so you all have to suffer for it #time line is planned out hmu if you want it #courtly love strikes again :(

140 notes · View notes

caswellprmanager · 3 years ago

Text

out of the closet (and into my arms)

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

TW: transphobia, deadnaming, gender dysphoria, panic attacks

Summary: Ricky has certain items of clothing that EJ loves to steal.

Notes: I exclusively blame @random-nerd-3 for planting this idea in my head in the discord server so now it has manifested itself. *british accent* I can't believe you've done this 😩

EJ was not above pretending to be sick just to not go to school. He didn't go to theater camp for nothing. One time when there was this really mean kid who sneezed on him in third grade, he faked having pneumonia so well that their mom made them apologize for infecting him. One could say he's basically a natural born actor.

But today... he's not even pretending when he says he feels sick.

He woke up that morning, running through all the things he had to do for the day, and then promptly chucked it out of his mind when he looked at himself in the mirror. He's been on T for a while now but his parents refuse to pay for top surgery. He'd do it himself with the money he has in his bank, but whatever he purchases alerts his parents. So looking at his tank top clad torso with no binder on and the tell-tale bumps of his breasts lightly tenting the material up front made him want to punch his mirror.

His breasts weren't big but god were they noticeable. At least for him. He shakily runs a hand down his chest and wishes more than anything for the offending things to disappear. He mentally computes how long it will be until he moves out of the house to go to college — just so that he can finally get the surgery he's always wanted.

Yet, even after computing, it still seems so far away.

"Eliza? Are you up? Breakfast is ready?"

There was a dull ringing in his ears when he woke up a few minutes ago but it was deafening now at the sound of that name.

You know that's not my name.

EJ feels his chest tighten and his breath come out in shorter bursts. He grabs the edge of his bathroom sink shakily, knuckles turning white the louder the ringing in his ears gets and the faster his heart beats.

Drowning.

He's drowning.

He's drowning in thoughts he doesn't want to have but invade the forefront of his mind.

He's drowning.

"Eliza? Eliza, answer me!"

Stop calling me that! EJ pulls at his hair, vision blurring at the seams. Stop fucking calling me that—

"EJ!"

A hand on his shoulder practically yanks him up to the metaphorical surface. He's breathing, but only barely, and he subconsciously falls into someone's arms, gasping through sobs.

"Hey there, handsome. You're okay. I got you."

The voice was soothing, familiar like the feel of his favorite childhood blanket wrapping around his shoulders. He buries his face into the fabric before him, inhaling the scent of sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

Throb cologne.

"R-Ricky?" He whispers, not really believing it himself. The one holding him answers by tightening their hold around him and EJ feels himself collapse even further in their arms. He breathes in Ricky's scent like it's the only thing keeping him grounded right now – and it might as well be.

"I'm here, Elijah. I'm right here." Elijah. EJ visibly relaxes at the sound of that name – the name he gave himself.

"How did you–" He tries to say but the tightness in his throat only allows his voice to come out in a whisper. Ricky runs their hand through his hair.

"I thought I would go to your house before school for a change. Your mom let me in." Ricky doesn't force EJ to look at them and he's grateful for that. His vision was still impossibly blurry and he feels a strong headache approaching after what just happened. "But I have a strong feeling you don't want to go to school today."

EJ buries his face even deeper into Ricky's chest and Ricky kisses the top of his head right after. He's taller than Ricky – not by much, but he'll hold that over Ricky 'till the day he dies �� but right now he feels like a little kid wrapped in Ricky's arms. Small. Secure.

Safe.

"C'mon, handsome." Ricky says into his hair, placing another kiss on the top of his head. "Let's get you back to bed."

EJ doesn't even remember being tucked back into bed, nor the third kiss Ricky gave him on his cheek, or even the sound of Ricky conversing lowly with his mom at the door. All EJ really remembers is feeling absolutely exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that the second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

After a few hours, EJ woke up again, still with a lightly throbbing headache and his room plunged in darkness except for the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling.

EJ focused on the constellations he painstakingly stuck there in the first grade. He remembered breaking his arm trying to get off the ladder and crying all the way to the hospital. The memory seemed to give his mind a distraction but he wasn't distracted enough to not notice the extra layer on his body.

EJ fell asleep with a tank top on, just like he always does. He runs warmer than most people so he doesn't usually sleep with a hoodie or sweater on until the winter months. Even then, he just turns up the thermostat in his room.

So... where the hell did this hoodie come from?

"Knock, knock!" Came a voice from the other side of his door and his heart stared beating a little faster, hoping that it wasn't either of his parents about to scold him for skipping school. But when the door opened — revealing a smiling Ricky — he could practically feel the tension lift from his shoulders.

"Oh good, you're awake! Your parents left for work a few hours ago so you don't have to worry, by the way." How Ricky was able to figure out what exactly was on his mind was beyond him. But it did put him ever more at ease. Although, he was still confused as to why Ricky was still here.

"Ricky did you... Did you skip school?" He asked, sitting up against the headboard just as Ricky sat next to him to feel his forehead. Ricky smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck.

"I couldn't leave you alone." Before EJ could protest, Ricky continued. "Don't worry! I texted Big Red to update me on rehearsals. I also texted your co-captains for the Water Polo and Lacrosse teams that you weren't feeling well, so you have to skip on training. I figured they'd spread the word to the rest of your clubs. You're in, like, a million of them."

"It keeps me busy," EJ mumbles but allows Ricky to climb into bed with him. He immediately relaxes into Ricky's chest when he opens his arms invitingly, knowing that he can't resist an invitation to snuggle. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's one of those days, isn't it?" Ricky asks and EJ nods. Ricky hums in acknowledgement. It's one of the things EJ appreciates about their relationship — one that took a lot of trial and error. They're different in a lot of ways but when it comes to their struggles with gender, they've found someone to relate to. EJ doesn't think he's ever dated anyone who just... gets it like Ricky does.

"It sucks," he mumbles into Ricky's chest with a little pout. "Plus I don't have any clean binders today so that makes it suck even more."

"Well, I'll be right here if you need me. Just say whatever and I'll help you in any way I can." EJ could feel tears well up in his eyes and buries his face into Ricky's neck, overwhelmed and filled with so much unbridled joy for Ricky's mere presence in his life right now.

Which brings him all the way back to the mere presence of the hoodie he's wearing right now that is definitely not his. But he can make an assumption from the smell alone.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

"Darling?" EJ says into Ricky's neck slowly.

"Hm?"

"Am I wearing your hoodie?"

"...And If I say yes?" Ricky teases, using their nails to scratch at the nape of EJ's neck casually. EJ fights the fluttering of his eyelids to focus on the task at hand. He pulls away from Ricky a bit to look at them inquisitively, which thankfully results in Ricky sighing in defeat. That basically answers EJ's question, and just as he's about to remove the hoodie, Ricky gently places a hand on his chest.

"Keep it. It looks good on you."

EJ looks down at the brown and white color block hoodie. When Ricky wears this, it engulfs their entire frame and makes EJ want to smother them in kisses. EJ has never admitted it but... this was on his top list of favorite hoodies that Ricky owns.

But he also knows this is also one of Ricky's favorites.

And yet... the more he looks at himself in Ricky's hoodie, the dysphoria he felt in spades just hours go subsides, even just a little. It makes his chest look properly flat and it was awfully comfy. He feels Ricky's eyes on him as he brings the fabric of the hoodie to his nose, breathing in Ricky's scent one more time.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

He smiles for the first time today and Ricky smiles back.

He could get used to this.

Ever since that day, EJ has started to slowly come into the possession of... several of Ricky's clothes.

Now, stealing might be too heavy of a word to use here. Though he's not unfamiliar with the concept — he just prefers to use the phrase... indefinitely borrowing.

But if one were to ask anybody else, EJ was most definitely stealing Ricky's clothes.

It started off with the color block hoodie Ricky gave him that day. That damned hoodie even changed his nightly sleeping routine – with wearing that very same hoodie as the last step before he's able to truly fall asleep. It's absolutely insane how one piece of garment can make him feel. How having something of Ricky's makes him want to have more of them.

And so EJ just never stopped.

One day before rehearsals, on a particularly cold afternoon (and EJ knew it would be cold. He checks the weather forecast on his phone everyday), he deliberately forgot his letterman jacket in his locker. After arriving to the bomb shelter, and coincidentally hearing from Miss Jenn that the janitor hasn't fixed the heater yet, EJ casually mentions to Ricky that he forgot his jacket in his locker. And that it's way too far to retrieve now.

"You poor baby," Ricky says with a knowing glint in his eye. It's a subtle game they play, the two of them, and EJ likes to think he wins it every time. "Here, take my sweatshirt. I sprayed extra throb on it for you."

"Okay agenda for tomorrow," EJ teases while pulling on the sweatshirt that indeed wreaks of throb. "We're going shopping for a new cologne."

"I thought you liked throb?" Ricky replies with a cheeky smile. EJ sticks his tongue out at him – a very mature response, thank you very much.

"It does remind me of you." EJ says this as he brings the collar of the sweatshirt up to his nose. He tries to hide the way his lips curl up automatically at Ricky's familiar scent. He wouldn't hear the end of it if they were able to catch that. "But it doesn't mean I like it."

"But you like me, right?" Ricky says this with a hint of a tease and a larger hint of vapid curiosity. It's almost as if Ricky is just waiting for the confirmation that EJ most definitely still likes them, which isn't much of a surprise. Ricky doesn't exactly have the best of luck in the romance department. It actually took quite a bit of time before the two of them even got together. But, now that they are together, EJ makes it a point to remind Ricky that he will continue to choose them everyday.

And EJ doesn't mind reminding Ricky how much he loves them — it's practically a part of his daily routine.

"I love you, angel." EJ says, lacing each syllable with as much affection that he can muster. Ricky bites their lip and tries to hide their blushing face with their hands. EJ chuckles, leaning over to place a kiss to Ricky's temple before wrapping an arm around them.

"EJ... I..." Ricky starts to say but the words don't ever take shape. EJ knows this though. He doesn't mind the wait.

"I know, baby." EJ kisses Ricky's forehead this time. "I know."

bowen (affectionate): did i leave my blue-grey hoodie at your house? i cant find it anywhere...

caswell (derogatory): [sent 1 attachment] oh you mean this one?

caswell (derogatory): :-)

bowen (affectionate): ah

bowen (affectionate): there it is

caswell (derogatory): do you want it back? i can bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): nah

bowen (affectionate): actually no yeah bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): but you have to be wearing it 🤷‍♀️

caswell (derogatory): u dont have to tell me twice 😘😘

[1 new notification: @ejwaterpolotheaterguy posted a new photo]

ejwaterpolotheaterguy: boyfriend sweater 😍 @sk8erbowen thanks for the drip 😚

There are days where EJ feels dysphoric and Ricky isn't there.

It just so happened to be the very same weekend that Ricky decided to go visit his mom up in Chicago when EJ woke up once again wanting to claw at the offending mounds of flesh on his chest. He nearly punched his mirror before Ricky called him to ask how he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, EJ. I wish I was there."

"I'll get by. Just gotta cover the mirrors all around the house and exclusively live in one of your hoodies for the next 24 hours." EJ rummages through his drawers, trying to find the exact hoodie he's been thinking of since Ricky called. It was the one that was big even on EJ and felt like getting a hug from Ricky. The second his fingers felt the familiar purple fabric, he quickly put it on, almost completely forgetting that he was on facetime with Ricky.

"Well look at you, my handsome boy." EJ blushes when he realizes that Ricky could see him but the smile that makes it to his lips is the most genuine one he's had all day. "How're you feeling?"

"Safe." was the first word that came to mind and EJ couldn't have stopped it from leaving his lips even if he tried. Ricky's answering smile made the slip-up worth it, though.

And there really isn't any other word that describes how wearing Ricky's hoodies and sweatshirts makes him feel. It's like getting a cup of hot chocolate by an open fire on Christmas morning. Like coming home to a warm embrace after a terrible day. With Ricky he was safe. With Ricky, in Ricky's hoodies, there was comfort. Sure there are moments where a storm hits and neither of them have an umbrella... but that just means they'll end up finding an awning together, soaking wet but basking in each other's warmth.

Sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

And as Ricky smiles at him through the phone screen, he knows there's no one else he'd gladly weather any storm with but them.

#cloud's writing now #ej caswell #ricky bowen #caswen #ej x ricky #ricky x ej #trans!ej #genderqueer!ricky #tw: transphobia #tw: gender dysphoria #tw: deadnaming #tw: panic attack #hsmtmts #i just rly love soft caswen #i am incapable of making ej sadder than he needs to be

39 notes · View notes

terramous · 4 years ago

Text

i'm in over my head

an incredibly belated birthday present for my love @silvarafael !! thank u jamie i love you so so so much and i'm so grateful to be your friend!! title from: the palace - father john misty word count: 9.6k beta'd by: @marjansmarwani bthb - seizures warnings: vomiting AO3

“Here’s your uniform. It’s ready to go when you are,” Carlos declared as he wandered back into the bedroom. He had a soft smile on his face as he set the folded uniform down on the corner of the bed.

“Thanks, babe,” TK said as he dragged a hand down his face. It took him a little longer to gather up the energy he needed than usual. It was probably courtesy of the month he’d spent on medical leave while recovering from his concussion. He wasn’t used to surfacing before noon anymore, aside from when Carlos would press a kiss to his forehead before leaving for his morning shifts.

In reality, he was excited to get back to work after so much time spent at home recovering. He had been going stir-crazy since he was well enough to get down Carlos’ stairs by himself and it’d been three weeks since then. As much as he liked spending all of Carlos’ time off curled up together and without a shortage of affection, he was going to lose his mind if he spent any more time cooped up.

Carlos stepped closer to TK and brought a hand up to cup his boyfriend’s jaw as he connected their lips in a soft kiss. “How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty good.”

Being met with worried brown eyes pulling apart every detail of his demeanour was something TK had come to expect in his daily life and those looks had only become more frequent over the past month.

“Are you sure? How’s your head?” Carlos asked, running his hand through TK’s hair until it came to rest on the back of his neck and he began running his thumb over TK’s skin. It had become a comforting gesture they often shared when TK was plagued by the most horrific headaches during his recovery. It never soothed the pain but it made him feel less alone.

He’d gotten used to the constant low-level pain behind his eyes, it was nothing to worry about at this point, so he omitted mentioning that to Carlos. It would only serve to make his boyfriend worry when he really didn’t need to.

TK was fine. He was on the road to fully recovering from his concussion, he was finally going to get his life back.

Even though he was only scheduled for a six-hour shift today. It was incredibly short, pitifully so, but he had to take it easy.

Carlos didn’t even have a shift today, he was just spending lunch with his family at his Tia Lucy’s and would be able to pick TK up the second he was done at the firestation. It wasn’t like he was immediately being thrown into the deep end with a 24-hour shift, Carlos really didn’t need to worry so much.

“You know I love this shirt on you,” TK said as he smoothed down Carlos’ collar and trailed his fingers down the seam along Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos leant forward to share another kiss with TK. He spoke as they parted, “you love every shirt on me.”

“I also love every shirt off of you,” TK whispered, following the kiss as Carlos drew backwards.

“I know you do, but you have to get dressed.” Carlos stood up from the bed and intercepted TK’s needy grab to draw him back into the bed with a firm poke of TK’s nose. “You have work.”

“I could call in and say that my head hurts, then you could spend the day in bed with me. Your Tia Lucy loves me, she’ll forgive you.”

“No, she’ll forgive you. You’re her favourite,” Carlos clarified with an accusatory point in TK’s direction. “You also say that as if your father wouldn’t order a wellness check and call me every fifteen minutes to make sure you’re not dying.”

“Ugh. He’s the worst.”

“I know sweetheart,” Carlos said, giving TK another chaste kiss before he quickly snuck away. “I’m going to sort out some breakfast so you can get changed.”

“You’re the worst,” TK protested with a pout.

Carlos poked his head back through the door and shot TK a smile. “You love me anyway.”

TK tossed a pillow at Carlos but it collided with the doorframe as Carlos disappeared down the hallway. “That’s debatable!”

He watched as Carlos disappeared through the door and down the stairs before he took a deep breath and glanced at his waiting uniform. It was just clothing, it should feel like a big deal.

And yet it did.

Grabbing the folded shirt on the end of the bed and pulling it into his lap, TK couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety in his chest as he ran his thumb over the patch with his name on the front.

This was his job, he loved it, he lived to help, but that didn’t keep him from feeling nervous about getting back in the game after a month. It didn’t help that his last shift ended with being held hostage on the wrong end of a gun and given a concussion.

He could do this. He just needed to be thrown back in the deep end.

Shrugging off one of Carlos’ old hoodies that he liked to sleep in, TK took a careful breath and mentally prepared himself for the shift ahead. He didn’t know why he was so nervous but something about the familiar weight of his uniform draped over his shoulders somehow made it feel more official.

The buttons seemed to be smaller and more stubborn than he remembered. He fumbled with them but just couldn’t seem to get his fingers to work properly. Never before had it been this difficult to dress himself. How many times had he done this exact thing without a second thought?

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. He just wanted things to go back to normal, but he couldn’t even put on his own shirt. Fuck.

He clutched at the material of his shirt, bunching the edges up in his trembling, useless hands as he stared down at the offending buttons through tearfilled eyes. He was so focused on the indignity and frustration of it all that he didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door until Carlos’s voice drifted in.

“Hey, food’s ready- what’s wrong?” Carlos asked. TK didn’t look up but Carlos’ hands were holding his in a matter of seconds.

“I can’t do it.”

Carlos squeezed TK’s hands softly in a way that was meant to be reassuring. “What can’t you do, sweetheart?”

“These stupid buttons!” TK huffed, unable to stop the fresh round of hot tears running down his face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Carlos said, already moving to do up TK’s buttons in a matter of seconds. He smoothed down TK’s uniform, before carefully tilting his boyfriend’s head up to meet his gaze. “You know you don’t have to work today if you’re not ready. No one is going to judge you for taking a little more time off.”

“No offense, but if I’m stuck here for even one more day I am going to start climbing the walls.”

“None taken. Do you want something to eat?”

“Actually, can I just take it with me?”

Carlos’ eyebrows knit together at that as he eyed TK cautiously. He was clearly worried. “Sure. Are you nauseous? Do you want to take another day off?”

TK waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I just don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” Carlos didn’t look convinced but he gave TK a quick kiss. It was just a second or two but it took all of TK’s strength to not seize Carlos by his collar and pull him down onto the bed.

Carlos knew this, of course, and smiled at TK before pulling away. “Finish getting dressed and we’ll get on our way soon. I’m sure you can manage that, but just call out if you need me.”

“I always need you.”

“You’re such a dork,” Carlos chuckled as he stepped out of their bedroom, blowing TK a kiss as he left.

TK lifted his hand to catch the kiss, gingerly curling his fingers into his palm. He turned back to his uniform and took a few seconds to let go of his anxiety. He could do this. The buttons were just a minor setback.

Truly, the buttons appeared to be the hardest thing. Not that TK was entirely sure why, but getting dressed the rest of the way proved itself to be a lot easier.

He’d even managed to brush his teeth and make his way halfway down the stairs before Carlos called out to him.

“Who’s this handsome paramedic in my house? I don’t remember calling 911.”

TK just rolled his eyes as he hopped down the rest of the staircase. As soon as his feet hit the floor he stood there with his arms open, giving Carlos a pointed look.

He tapped his foot impatiently as Carlos wandered over and wrapped his arms around TK’s waist, picking him up and walking towards the door.

“This is not what I had in mind!” TK grumbled until Carlos set him down. Slung over Carlos’ shoulder was TK’s duffle bag that plonked heavily on the ground at the same time as TK’s socked feet reconnected.

Before TK could say anything, Carlos was kneeling down and grabbing TK’s boots.

“I can put my own shoes on,” TK protested as Carlos manhandled his feet into the boots.

“You can’t even tie your laces properly, you still do the double-loop. It’ll go faster if I do it.”

TK knew it was a ploy to make sure he didn’t have to deal with the fiddly task of tying his laces. But he’d never tell Carlos that he had caught on.

I only took Carlos a few seconds before he was standing up again and pushing the front door open with a lovesick grin on his face. “You ready to go?”

“Definitely,” TK said with a nod.

TK froze as he stepped out of the front door. The sun was definitely brighter this morning than he was expecting, and a little more than his head was prepared for. But he could handle it.

“You good, babe?” Carlos asked. TK opened his eyes to see Carlos worriedly looking over the top of the car door instead of climbing into the driver’s seat. He really was going to worry about TK all day, wasn’t he?

TK nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Taking a deep breath, TK gave Carlos a smile. “It’ll be fine, Carlos.”

Walking into the firehouse felt like coming home after a long day. He wasn’t aware he could miss his workplace so much, at least until he spent a month basically confined to Carlos’ condo.

No one was around when TK wandered in, which he could probably chalk up to the missing ladder truck. That was until he spotted the one, the only, Nancy Gillian. She had her legs draped over the arm of the couch and her phone glued to her face, the blue light from the screen reflecting on her skin.

“He’s alive!” Nancy cheered as she looked up from her phone, all but throwing it aside as she kicked her legs up and in a few short strides, wrapped TK up in a bone-crushing hug.

This was definitely weird. TK had never even been hugged by Tommy, let alone the paramedic with whom he had not had the smoothest sailings with in terms of their relationship.

“I missed you, jerk.”

It took TK a few seconds before he was returning her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Almost instantly, Nancy let TK go and turned her back to him. “Did you hear that, Tommy? I told you I could get him to be sappy within five minutes!”

Tommy stepped into view and clicked the button on her stopwatch, making it beep. “2.38. That’s got to be a record.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a record. Or that you were both scheming against me on my first day back,” TK said, his gaze shifting between his fellow paramedics.

“C’mon, it was the perfect scheming opportunity. Marjan and Paul helped with the plan,” Nancy explained.

TK rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. I wouldn’t expect anything less from them.”

Nancy looked around before crossing her arms across her chest, looking somewhere between disappointed and bored. “They had hoped that they were gonna be here to witness it though.”

“Speaking of, why aren’t you guys on the call with them?”

“Medical wasn’t needed, so we’ve just been waiting for you to show up. They’ll be back soon, though,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“And Judd will probably never put you down again in your lifetime,” Nancy chipped in.

TK couldn’t help but to chuckle at the mental image of Judd carting him around for the rest of his life. He certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

Judd was, after all, always threatening to wrap TK up in bubble wrap or never let him do anything unsupervised ever again. TK definitely considered it to be an overreaction and a tad over-protective but everyone else seemed to disagree with him every time he brought it up.

He followed Nancy back to the couch where they both sat down and TK prepared for the onslaught of questions about his well being.

Nancy turned her calculating gaze on TK. “How’s your head?”

“Good.”

“Any dizziness?”

“Nope.”

“Sensitivity to light?”

“I told you, Nancy, I’m fine. Just happy to be back at work.”

“She’ll never admit it, but she missed you,” Tommy said.

“I did not,” Nancy hissed, shooting a glare in Tommy’s direction.

“She’s lying. We all missed you.”

TK turned to see Paul standing behind him. Paul smiled and ruffled TK’s hair. “How are you doing?”

“If one more person asks me that I’m going to smack them.”

“Don’t hit me,” Paul said, raising his hands with his palms towards TK in surrender.

“Give me one good reason,” TK said, raising his hand in an empty threat.

Paul eyed him carefully. “You need someone to protect you from Judd when he realises that you’re here.”

“True,” TK said, lowering his hand so that it rested in his lap. Judd’s big brother role that he had adopted was definitely a lot to deal with at times, but TK enjoyed the affection.

“Strand!” Judd’s distinct voice called, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Paul mouthed him a quick ‘good luck’ before TK was wrapped up in a tight embrace.

Pitifully trying to shove away Judd’s arms, TK struggled to wriggle out of his hold. “I need to breathe, Judd.”

As soon as his boots hit the ground, TK rolled his shoulders back and shook out his arms as he bounced on his feet. It was good to be back.

It’d been a good day, mostly minor calls so far, a fainting, a typical rest home visit, and a compound fracture from an unfortunate shortcut down two flights of stairs. But this was exciting, he was back in the heat of it now.

“Look less excited to be at a car accident, Strand,” Nancy scolded as she jabbed her elbow into TK’s ribs.

“It’s not my fault. I’ve been on house arrest for a month, I’ve missed this.”

“And we’ve missed you, but make sure to listen to your body and not push your limits today. You’re supposed to be being eased back into this,” Tommy said carefully as she placed her hands on TK’s shoulders to hold him still.

TK nodded. “Got it. Take it easy, tap out if there’s any issues. I got it.”

Tommy offered him a satisfied smile before she turned to the scene. “Alright, TK, you take the kid that got flung, Nancy and I will check on the driver.”

“On it, Cap,” TK said with a sharp nod, adjusting the strap of his medical bag on his shoulder.

He could do this, he could see the kid sprawled on the road with a few firefighters by his side. This was straightforward, just TK and no hassle of waiting for the team to free his patient.

It was simple, something he couldn’t mess up on his first day back. He knew that this was Tommy’s way of including him without potentially jeopardizing anything.

“What have we got here?” TK asked as he knelt down on the opposite side of the patient, meeting Paul’s gaze briefly.

“Kid got thrown, don’t think he lost consciousness but he doesn’t seem to be in a chatty mood,” Paul offered.

“That’s alright, I got it from here. Why don’t you go do firefighter-y things?”

“Ooh, he’s a paramedic and now he’s too good for us firefighters,” Paul mocked as he gave TK’s shoulder a firm shove.

“Blah, blah, blah. Screw you, Strickland.”

“Let me know when you’re free!” Paul called with his hands cupped around his mouth as he jogged backwards towards the rest of the team.

TK couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. It was good to be back. He’d certainly missed everyone more than he cared to admit. He turned his attention back to his patient. As far as TK could tell, Paul had gotten as far as a cervical collar and not much else.

“Hey, I’m TK. I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”

“Andy,” the kid groaned, his face scrunched up in what TK assumed was pain. There was road rash visible on Andy’s face, blood from his nose and a laceration on his forehead sticking his long black hair to his skin.

“Hi Andy. I’m going to help you as best I can. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m-” Andy paused, seeming to need a moment to think about it. “I’m not sure.”

TK tensed for a moment before shaking out any visual reaction to the information he was gathering. He had to be professional, and being professional meant keeping his patient calm at all costs. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you know if you lost consciousness at any point?”

“I don’t think so?”

TK pulled the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it to ease his nerves. This wasn’t good. “Do you know where you are?”

“The middle of the road.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

TK shook his head. “It’s Saturday.”

“Nice.” Andy cracked a small smile. “I love the weekend.”

TK fished his penlight out of his pocket and turned it on in one fluid motion. It was muscle memory, but it felt good to be back. He ran it over Andy’s eyes, his mind whirling as he processed what he was seeing.

Tensing up a little as he realised the severity of the seemingly insignificant head wound. “Pupils are irregular and response is delayed.”

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Andy asked, his voice climbing in pitch with what was undoubtedly fear. It was always fear.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” TK clicked off the light and held his penlight parallel with Andy’s face. “Can you follow my light?”

He watched Andy’s eyes trailing the sideways movement of the light carefully.

Clicking his tongue, TK slipped the penlight back into his pocket. “I can’t make a diagnosis here but you might have a concussion.”

“How bad is that?”

“Oh, it’s not gonna be pleasant. I just spent a month on medical leave for a concussion of my own. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“Ouch?”

TK nodded, suppressing a grimace as he tried to ignore the stabbing pain making itself known behind his right eye. Now really wasn’t the best time for a headache. “Ouch.”

“I’m going to slide my hands under you to check for any bleeding that I can’t see. Is that okay with you?”

Andy nodded slightly, his movement restricted by the collar. Clearly his probable concussion protested the attempted motion as Andy quickly let out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, that won’t be a good idea for a while,” TK hummed as he began sliding his gloved hands under Andy, watching carefully for the familiar smear of red that would let him figure out why Andy was getting so pale.

But there was no blood.

In any other instance, TK would be relieved to find no evidence of bleeding, but with the growing lack of colour in Andy’s skin and the way that TK confirmed with a single touch that his skin was also colder than it should be, there was no relief from the lack of a visible bleed. It was almost definitely internal and there wasn’t a lot that TK could do about that.

Sucking his teeth, TK mentally ran over his course of action. It didn’t involve a lot of steps so he could handle it on his own. There was no need to bring in the cavalry.

“Okay, I’m going to give you an IV,” TK said as he dug around in his med kit. “It won’t solve anything but it’ll make you feel a whole of a lot better.”

“That sounds good.”

TK had the bag of saline, the needle—he even triple-checked the gauge—, the catheter and a few alcohol pads laid out before him. This was an IV, he’d done it a million times, he could do it in his sleep.

That was until he tried to open the alcohol pad and couldn’t seem to get his fingers to cooperate. It was the button fiasco all over again. TK was starting to get really sick of this.

Brushing it off and deciding to blame the alcohol pad as faulty, TK quickly tried another. And another. And another.

The alcohol pads weren’t faulty, he was.

Taking a breath as he closed his eyes, TK willed his hands to stop shaking. This wasn’t the end of the world, he could handle it.

“Hey, Gillian, can you give me a hand?” TK called over his shoulder and tried to ignore how unsure his voice sounded.

“Sure!” She called back. It was only a few seconds before Nancy was kneeling on the other side of Andy, her own med kit with her. “What do you need?”

With a careful inhale, TK asked the question he knew was only going to raise a million more. “Can you run a line for me?”

Nancy looked like she wanted to ask, but she stayed silent and set up the IV with quick ease.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nancy said. TK could tell that she was trying to seem casual, but her voice was firm. This was going to find it’s way back to Tommy and she was going to bench him. So much for a good first say back. “I’m gonna go see if there’s an available gurney.”

“That'd be great, thanks Nancy,” TK said with an uneasy smile. He was grateful but he knew that once this interaction was over, he was going to be benched. Carlos would be called to come and pick him up from the station and he’d be back on medical leave for the foreseeable future.

Nancy left and TK turned back to Andy who was eyeing him curiously, his brown eyes seeming to trail after TK’s every movement.

“Are you alright?” TK asked, scanning Andy for any sign of an injury that he may have missed.

“Did you know that you’re really pretty?”

TK froze for a second, he probably looked like he was buffering. Concussed teenagers are one thing. Apparently concussed teens flirting with him were the same thing. TK had to consciously remind himself to reply to Andy instead of just kneeling there looking like a stunned mullet. “It has been said.”

“No, I mean like, so pretty.”

TK rocked back on his heels slightly, lifting his head to look in the direction of the rest of the crew. Silently begging Nancy to return. “Andy, I’m flattered, but you’re like twelve.”

“I’m fifteen,” Andy said.

“I rest my case. You’re a minor and I already have a boyfriend.”

“It’s not my lucky day, I guess.”

TK could help a smile as he shook his head, ignoring the low-level pounding in his making itself known. “No. No, it is not.”

As soon as Andy was unloaded from the ambulance and Nancy and Tommy followed his gurney inside the hospital, TK climbed into the passenger’s seat of the ambulance to wait for them.

His body was so heavy, he really couldn’t fathom staying on his feet any longer. He wasn’t used to all this work. Maybe diving back into the deep end wasn’t the best plan.

If he was still a firefighter, he’d have been put on light duty. He’d be working reception, checking inventory or cleaning all day but he’d be doing something. Light duty wasn’t much of a function when he was a paramedic.

This was the closest he could get, he didn’t get to drive or work on anything that wasn’t minor. And still, he was feeling the toll.

Curling in on himself, TK massaged his temples. Of course his head had to hurt.

TK could feel the pressure in his head climbing. The little sharp pains morphed into a constant throbbing as it got harder and harder to bear having his eyes open. It was only going to get worse from here.

But he just needed to hold it together for the rest of the day. Or until they could get back to the station.

If they got back he could sleep off the worst of it, or look pitiful enough for Tommy to send him home. He didn’t want to go home but he wanted to stop feeling like he couldn’t do his job.

He could hear the distinct sound of doors opening and closing as Tommy and Nancy returned but he didn’t look at them.

“Good work out there, team. It’s been too empty just as the two of us, it’s good to have you back, TK,” Tommy said as TK felt the ambulance start up with the familiar hum of the engine.

“It’s good to be back.”

Nancy had pulled out of the hospital and back onto the road by the time Tommy spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about the IV, TK?”

“Not really,” TK said. He knew what Tommy was going to say, he was bound to be benched.

“Just say the word and you can go home. No one is mad, or disappointed, or anything. If you need more time off, that’s okay.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“The offer is always there if you feel the need to take it.”

TK let out a short laugh. It sounded kind of like he was being strangled. “I won’t, but okay.”

They lapsed into silence, the atmosphere suddenly having become so much more awkward.

After a few minutes and most of their journey back to the station the pressure in TK’s head decided to spike and suddenly everything was making a fresh wave of pain hit him.

Groaning softy, TK pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut to block out the light. He really needed the throbbing in his head to ease up or at least not get worse before they got back to the station and he could down a few advil to take the edge off.

Over his recovery period he had gotten used to the pattern of his migraines, the way the pain would linger for an hour or two and steadily get worse until it skyrocketed and Carlos had to hold him while he sobbed and tried to ride out the pain. By that point there wasn’t much either of them could do except to make their way up to the bedroom and hope that TK could sleep it off.

He couldn’t begin to even imagine how many hours Carlos had spent sitting on the bed next to him in the dark, rubbing his hand soothingly across TK’s back, silently begging for the pain to stop. TK knew how much it killed Carlos to see him hurting, as well as how he’d kept quiet about it but he could never really hide these things from his boyfriend. Carlos’ eyes were so full of emotion, they were a dead giveaway every time.

It’d been almost a week and a half since he’d had a migraine, his neurologist even said it was a good indicator that he was on the tail end of his recovery. However, in usual TK Strand style, good things never lasted.

As he opened his eyes, TK had to suppress his urge to curse. Everything was like he was looking through an out of focus camera, the haziness only slight in the centre of his vision but his peripheral vision was barely decipherable.

The taillights of the car in front of them seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat and the midday sun was making the simple act of keeping his eyes open borderline-unbearable as pain laced its way through his skull.

This was bad.

He closed his eyes and leant his head back until it collided softly with the seat. At least he was expecting the dizziness and nausea as they washed over him.

“You alright, Strand?” Nancy asked, undoubtedly having given him a quick once-over when he got quiet.

TK nodded, biting his tongue as he felt like he was going to regret having lunch. He tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out very weak and not at all as casual as he had hoped. “Yeah, just tired. I’m not used to being awake for so long without taking a nap.”

“Feel free to lie down for a bit when we get back to the station. I don’t want you overdoing it, you hear me?” Tommy chimed from her seat in the back.

“I’ll be fine, Cap. Just need to readjust to working life.”

TK could hear Tommy shift in her seat, probably so she was sure that he was listening to her. “You sustained a traumatic brain injury after getting kidnapped on the job, I think you’re entitled to as many naps on the clock as you can take.”

“I’ll be fine. I just want you to treat me like you would any other day. You guys got kidnapped too, I don’t need any special treatment.”

“You’re not special, we just don’t want to waste half an hour giving you a ride up to the ER because you overdid it and didn’t tell anyone,” Nancy said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” TK objected, not even bothering to open his eyes and give Nancy a displeased look.

He didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes as his coworkers laughed.

Tommy was the first to speak, “sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The laughter dissolved after a short while, Nancy and Tommy making amicable conversation as TK tried to hold himself together around every turn and slightly too-abrupt brake.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. It seemed like the fire station was further away than it had ever been before, he wasn’t going to make it until then.

Taking a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he couldn’t quell the nausea.

“Nancy, pull over,” he groaned.

“What?”

“Pull over.”

“I’m not going to pull over, TK. We’re almost at the station.”

“Nancy Gillian, I swear to god, pull this ambulance over.”

Nancy gave in, probably noticing the serious edge to TK’s voice or probably the fact that he had undoubtedly gone very pale in the passenger’s seat. “Okay, okay. Pulling over now.”

TK couldn’t fly out the door any faster once the ambulance came to a halt. He knew that Nancy and Tommy had a million questions that he wasn’t answering, but he was too preoccupied sinking to his knees and throwing up in the gutter.

This wasn’t going to go down in history as one of TK Strand’s finest moments, that’s for sure.

He didn’t notice anything aside from the throbbing in his head and the sting of bile in his throat until there was a hand rubbing his back. It was Nancy, he knew that without her even saying anything. Her cherry scented shampoo, although usually pleasant, made his stomach twist.

“‘M sorry,” TK whined as he took a moment to catch his breath before the nausea came back with a vengeance and he was once again emptying his guts.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t feel good.”

“No, I bet you don’t.” That was Tommy. She had a very soothing energy that would usually make him feel better but he was too preoccupied retching and only now noticing how much he was shaking.

“I’m-” TK drew in a trembling breath. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

“It’s just,” TK waved a hand in the vague direction of his head, “concussion.”

Tommy was running her hand through his hair now, like his mother always used to do when he was sick as a kid, it was a very comforting gesture. He was going to die with the secret that her comfort made him want to cry, ignoring the fact that he definitely already wanted to cry. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna need some more time off.”

“No.”

He could almost hear Nancy rolling her eyes. “Yeah, Bud, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”

“If this stays between us I don’t have to go back on medical leave.”

Nancy scoffed. “This can stay between us if you can stand up and walk back to the ambulance on your own.”

“That’s easy. I can do that.”

“Go for gold, kid,” Tommy said as she retracted her steadying hold on him. TK didn’t quite realise how little of a part he was playing in keeping himself upright until that moment.

Steeling himself with a deep breath and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, TK rocked back onto his heels, ready to push himself onto his feet.

And careened backwards almost instantly, a head rush rolling over him.

TK would never be able to express his gratitude for Tommy and Nancy catching him in that moment. He leant heavily on Tommy as he closed his eyes willing everything to stop spinning. The earth wasn’t supposed to tilt like this.

Nancy gave TK a gentle pat on his back. “Yeah, you’re going back on medical leave.”

She was just met with a groan, TK couldn’t find the energy to argue, and he was almost certain that if he opened his mouth he’d be sick again.

“Do you want to ride in the gurney back to the station?” Tommy asked softly, brushing his sweaty hair away from where it clung to his forehead.

“Please, no,” he whimpered, resting his head fully on Tommy’s shoulder. He was never going to live this down.

“Hey, champ. Just sit tight and we’ll give you a hand.”

TK waved her off. “No- No, I’m good.”

Ignoring how much he fumbled, TK eventually managed to wrestle his way out of his seatbelt and opened the door. He ended up bracing himself almost entirely on the doorframe as he struggled to his feet and tried to step down.

His foot missed its purchase and he was falling for a moment or two, his brain didn’t even realise it was happening until Tommy and Nancy appeared seemingly out of nowhere to catch him.

“Easy there,” Tommy said as TK relinquished his part in holding himself up. His legs felt like the bones had been stripped from them at this point, he had no hope of bearing his own weight.

TK couldn’t help the whine he let out at the sound of Judd’s voice. “Whoa, what happened?”

“Can you guys help get him to the couch?” Tommy asked, dodging the question as she slung one of TK’s arms over her shoulders.

Judd’s arm looped around TK’s torso should have made him feel better and more supporter but he could only let out a pitiful groan as every slight shift made the room spin.

“Don’t worry, we gotcha.”

“I don’t,” TK grumbled as he let himself be dragged around until he was settled down onto something soft. He knew that it was a long enough walk from the ambulance bay to the common area or the bunk room for TK to know they had definitely gained the attention of most of the firehouse at this point.

“You’re looking very green, kid.”

As much as TK appreciated Judd’s concern and assistance getting to wherever he was currently situated - he couldn’t find the will to open his eyes to the bright lights of the station - but the signature deep Southern drawl was grating against his eardrums.

“He looked greener when he abandoned his guts in the middle of the street,” Nancy chimed. It was a very snarky statement but her words had no bite. TK imagined that this was probably how she had spoken to him on the night of the kidnapping when he was freshly concussed. He honestly couldn’t recall anything more than a few flashes from that night.

“He’s shakin’ like a leaf.”

“Yeah.” That was Paul’s voice now, coming from somewhere behind or to the side of TK. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore. “Shouldn’t he go to the hospital? This doesn’t look good at all.”

TK could almost see Tommy shrug. “If he doesn’t improve with some rest, or gets worse, there’s a ride to the ER with his name on it.”

“No,” TK groaned. “No hospitals.”

“Bud, I love ya, but this looks pretty bad.”

The voices were beginning to get harder to tell apart, everyone’s words blending together into one big indecipherable mess by the time they reached TK’s ears but he knew that was Judd.

TK stiffened as his stomach lurched. He opened his mouth to speak but a small trash can was swiftly shoved into his arms just in time for him to throw up yet again. He whimpered between heaves of what was just bile at this point, his insides cramping painfully.

“Carlos is on his way.”

Was everyone here? TK assumed his dad would be there considering he was puking his guts out on his first day back, but there were already too many other people seeing him in his current state. The idea of Carlos coming, however, made TK feel a lot better.

He’d probably feel bad about interrupting Carlos’ time with his family later but right now, all TK cared about was having Carlos next to him again.

He didn’t even realise he was crying until someone was wiping his tears away. It was that gesture that prompted TK to open his eyes. To near-complete darkness.

It only took him a few seconds to piece together that he was in the bunk room surrounded by his colleagues while he held onto a rubbish bin with a white-knuckle grip. As if on cue, he folded over the edge of the bin again and retched while someone continued rubbing his back.

The hand was definitely bigger than Tommy or Nancy’s, so maybe it was Judd? Or Paul? TK didn’t particularly care at this point. He was just glad that he wasn’t alone.

Every time he managed to lift his head for more than a minute at a time, Tommy was right there with a glass of water, trying to coerce him into drinking some of it.

“You need to drink something,” Tommy said firmly as she once again put the glass in his face.

Even the idea of drinking water made TK’s insides twist, he didn’t particularly feel like throwing up cold water anytime soon. “No thanks.”

“I wasn’t asking. You’re going to drink this water or you’re going to get an IV.”

“An IV sounds great.”

“Drink the water, TK.”

He didn’t have the energy to fight her so he slowly sipped the water while Tommy held the edge of the glass to his lips.

The feeling of cold water on his irritated throat was better than he’d ever admit, but he only got a few seconds of relief before he pushed the glass away and the water came back up.

“Yeah, this has ‘hospital’ written all over it,” Tommy said.

“No hospital,” TK groaned, trying to glare at Tommy through the tears gathered in his eyes. “Need Carlos.”

“I’m here.” There were hurried footsteps and a familiar presence slotting in next to TK as arms wrapped around him. TK could cry. He buried his face in Carlos’ shoulder while Carlos ran his hand between TK’s shoulder blades. “I’m here, baby.”

TK couldn’t help the fresh wave of tears that soaked into Carlos’ shirt. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. How are you feeling?”

“Bad. Awful. I left the thesaurus at home.”

“You’re doing great.”

“Sorry for ruining lunch,” TK mumbled into Carlos’ shoulder, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Carlos brought a hand up to play with TK’s hair at that. “Shh, no. You didn’t ruin anything. We’re all just very worried about you and want you to feel better.”

“I wanna feel better.”

“I know, baby.”

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. Everyone understands,” Carlos said as he pressed a kiss to the top of TK’s head. “Are you going to let Tommy take you to the hospital now?”

TK just whined and clung tighter to Carlos. He didn’t want to let go.

“I’m not gonna leave. I’m going to be right next to you the entire time,” Carlos promised, pressing a few more soft kisses to TK’s hair.

“Is that my cue to get the gurney?”

TK wasn’t entirely sure who spoke but he just sighed and nodded into Carlos’ shirt.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” TK could only imagine the smile Carlos was giving, he could hear it in his boyfriend’s voice.

Being with Carlos brought him comfort and he was so exhausted from the toll this episode had taken on his body that he was content to just rest his entire weight against Carlos.

Carlos accepted his presence entirely. He ran his palm along TK’s spine in a comforting gesture. TK could almost fall asleep there if he didn’t feel so awful.

He had no idea how much time had elapsed by the time something changed. Everyone was pretty silent for the most part, aside from the occasional clicking of the door opening and closing as people came and went.

And then he felt the shift. Like a tectonic plate moving underfoot, the exhaustion morphed into a sensation he was all too familiar with.

Panic.

Something bad was about to happen.

TK rested his palm on his chest, right over where he could feel his heart racing as it got harder to draw in a deep breath. That wasn’t a usual symptom when his head was acting up. “Ooh, I feel weird.”

Carlos stiffened under him at that. “What do you mean?”

He looked over at where Marjan and Paul were pretending not to be looking over at him every few seconds, only to realise he couldn’t really see them all that clearly. “I kinda feel like I’m about to have a panic attack, but my vision is going weird. That doesn’t usually happen.

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Captain Vega?”

“I think-” TK’s sentence was cut off as he paused to take a breath, willing away the dizziness that had made a spectacular comeback. “I need to lie down.”

“Alright, okay,” Carlo said, helping to ease TK down until he was lying on his side and Carlos could run a hand through his hair. “Just hang tight and we’ll see what Captain Vega says, okay?” Carlos asked in a soft voice, running his hand through TK’s hair.

TK nodded, “Okay.”

As quickly as things had gotten weird, they got weirder. There was another wave of dizziness and a weird taste in his mouth as his body seemed to have a mind of its own. There were a couple involuntary jerks of his hands and legs, as much as TK tried to hold his limbs still it just seemed to get worse.

“Tommy!” Carlos called, his voice cracking.

“Go get Tommy,” someone said before there was another set of hands touching him and the sound of panicked footsteps moving further away. When they spoke again TK could identify the voice as being his father’s. “TK? TK, can you hear me?”

TK wanted to nod, to confirm that he could hear them, that he didn’t know what was happening.

He was scared.

TK could feel himself slipping as the jerking got worse. He wanted to tell Carlos not to worry but he wasn’t in control anymore. His jaw clenched firm as his head jolted back a few times. He was shaking now, like he’d been electrocuted, and Carlos was looking more and more scared with each passing second.

“Shit.” Tommy’s voice reached his ears ripe with alarm as TK felt even more hands on him. “He’s seizing!”

And TK slipped.

The darkness was only brief, in what seemed like just a few moments he was blinking up at Carlos again. As if he’d fallen asleep for a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Carlos said with a soft smile. Looking up at his boyfriend, TK could clearly see the tears gathered in Carlos’ wide, worried eyes.

“Hi,” TK breathed as he pieced together all he could remember. There was a gap between lying down and talking to Carlos and waking up in the same place that he wasn’t entirely sure of. It was a void. All he knew was that his head definitely hurt more now, but everyone aside from Tommy and Carlos had cleared the room. “What happened?”

“You had a seizure.” That was definitely Tommy speaking, even though TK couldn’t see her. She was somewhere out of his line of sight and he was too preoccupied with studying Carlos’ worried expression to look away. It definitely made a lot more sense now why Carlos downright terrified.

It also made sense why no one else was around. Tommy would have known that he didn’t want anyone gawking at him when he came to. “Thanks.”

“For?” Tommy asked.

“Sending everyone out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you didn’t need anyone other than me or your boy right now.” Tommy gave TK’s thigh a pat before leaving his side. “I’m going to go see if Nancy’s got the gurney sorted, okay?”

TK just hummed as Tommy walked away. He didn’t particularly care much about what was going on, he just reached out for Carlos until he could curl his finger around his boyfriend’s wrist.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a soft voice, not failing to notice the way Carlos jumped a little.

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ eyebrows knit together in confusion as he visibly tried to decode those three words, as if he was going to come up with a reason he could understand for why TK would ask him that. “I’m fine. I should be asking you that.”

“You’re scared, I can tell.”

“Of course I’m scared. You don’t have to worry about me, though.”

“I’m still going to worry, I care about you.”

“Care about yourself for once. You just had a seizure!” Carlos’ voice cracked on the last word as he covered his mouth with his free hand. He was crying. TK couldn’t see it but he knew. He could feel the way Carlos trembled and hear how his breaths were rough and staggered as he tried to swallow his sobs.

“I know. But I’m gonna go to the hospital and they’re gonna fix me up, you don’t have to worry. I don’t even feel that bad anymore, I’m just really tired and my head hurts. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, ‘Los.”

He heard Carlos take another deep, steadying breath before a familiar hand found its way into his hair. “TK-” he started, voice moderately steadier than before, but he was interrupted by the arrival of TK’s team and the gurney.

“Up you go, Strand,” Tommy instructed lightly as Carlos shifted gears, pulling the hand out of his hair and instead reaching around to help him up.

“I don’t need help,” TK objected as he slowly eased himself to his feet, bracing his entire weight on Carlos as his boyfriend helped to lift him.

“Yeah, you do. It’s okay,” Tommy said as she grabbed his legs and moved them so that they were on the gurney with him. “No one is mad at you.”

“I never said that.”

Carlos pressed a careful kiss to TK’s temple before brushing a hand through his boyfriend’s sweaty hair as he placed the other on TK’s side. “You were thinking it.”

“I’m getting déjà vu,” TK groaned. This situation of his worried boyfriend hovering over him while his head was unbearably painful was beginning to be a recurring event in his life.

“I think they call that nausea and dehydration,” Carlos offered, a small smile curling up the corner of his lips.

TK closed his eyes and sighed. “I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” TK mumbled as he tried to suppress a groan at the jostling motion the gurney made as he was loaded into the ambulance. Carlos was quick to follow him though, eagerly scooping up TK’s hand in his own.

"I'm dying," TK grumbled, his face buried in his pillow. He’d been trying to fall asleep for the past however many hours he’d been cooped up in the ER. But everything was too bright, too loud, and his head hurt so badly. Every squeak of sneakers or beep from his IV pump seemed to serve only to exacerbate his pain. He was even cooped up under a spare blanket and Carlos’ jacket as his sweat was just making him colder in the frigid hospital air.

TK could tell by Carlos’ silence that he was trying to suppress a laugh before he said anything. "You're not dying, babe."

"If I'm not dying, why does my head hurt so bad?"

"Because you're an idiot who doesn’t tell anyone when he’s struggling."

TK just groaned in response. "I don't think this level of pain should be legal."

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can arrest your brain."

"Then what's the point of having a cop boyfriend?”

“I’m not sure. Personally, I choose to date endearing idiots who are determined to give me grey hair.”

TK just huffed and shot his boyfriend a glare. “You suck.”

“I know.”

Their banter dissolved into silence. TK knew Carlos was trying to stay as quiet as possible, that any sound would aggravate TK’s pain, and he was grateful for that.

"My head hurts," TK whimpered, reaching out clumsily until his fingers connected with Carlos' arm. His grip wasn't firm, but he pulled Carlos closer anyways, as if his boyfriend wasn't mere inches away at most times and always eager to be closer.

Carlos ran his fingers through TK's hair, carefully so as to not jostle his head. "I know sweetheart, I'm sorry."

In a flash, the nausea came rolling back with a vengeance and TK only had a few seconds to prop himself up on his elbows.

Carlos was quick to shove an emesis bag under TK’s face as he shuddered under the force of his body dry heaving until he had to taste his own bile for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

When TK finally rolled back onto the bed, panting from the toll the day had taken on his body, Carlos gagged. “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Give me a break.” TK grumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. He was exhausted and he just wanted everything to be over. “I’m in the hospital.”

“This chain of events was entirely your fault, you don’t get pity.”

“I deserve pity.”

“Maybe you do.”

“I want to take a shower, I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“You can when we get home.” Carlos said, taking TK’s hand in his own, careful not to mess with the IV as he pressed a few short kisses to TK’s knuckles. “Unfortunately that’s going to be a little while away. They’re probably going to want to do a bunch of scans.”

TK groaned, rolling towards Carlos until his face was buried in the thin hospital pillow. “I hate scans.”

“I know, baby.” Carlos tapped his fingers on the railing of the bed a few times before he spoke again. “You know they’re necessary though.”

“I don’t care. They suck.”

“Just try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll wake you up when the doctor gets here.”

TK went to nod but thought better of it. Instead he sighed and sank further into the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

Though TK couldn’t see him he could practically hear the frown in Carlos’s voice. “Sorry?” he asked, “For what?”

“For worrying you,” TK started, “for not being able to make it through a day at work. For not being able to do anything. For being useless.”

“Hey,” Carlos responded firmly, “You are not useless. You are hurt and still recovering. None of this is your fault TK, none of it.”

“Still,” TK pressed on, “you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“And niether should you, but here we are. We’re in this together babe, no matter what.”

TK lifted his head off of the pillow to look at Carlos who was giving him a soft smile. He looked so hopeful TK could hardly stand it, but he appreciated it all the same. “I think I love you,” he said wearily before plopping his head back into the pillow, the sounds of Carlos’s fond chuckle chasing him.

“Well I know I love you,” Carlos assured him, rubbing a comforting hand down his back. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The resident tapped the end of his pen on his clipboard before looking back up at TK. "This could just be post-concussion syndrome but I'm going to page your neurologist given your medical history to see how she thinks your treatment should go."

Carlos looked confused as he turned to the doctor. "What would his medical history have to do with it?"

TK sighed. He’d had this conversation with his neurologist a month ago. The risk of this concussion exacerbating any symptoms from previous injuries that could have had an affect on his brain. "Overdoses. Getting shot. They're worried about permanent brain damage."

“That sounds serious. Why haven’t you brought that up before?”

TK shrugged. “I thought we’d cross that bridge if and when we got to it. No use worrying you about something that no one can control.”

“I’m going to order a CT scan and see whether or not your neurologist wants more tests when she gets here,” the doctor explained before heading back into the main body of the ER.

One CT scan became an MRI, and many more tests and scans. After many hours it was determined that no, TK’s condition hadn’t worsened. It just hadn’t gotten better.

His neurologist had determined that it was likely post-concussion syndrome and discharged him with a few referrals and a prescription for a bunch of new medication that would hopefully ease his symptoms.

Carlos offered him a soft and reassuring smile as he pulled a hoodie over TK’s head.

TK didn’t even bother to put his arms in the sleeves as he gave Carlos a pout. “I want to go home.”

TK was used to Carlos’ sixth sense at this point. He should have expected that Carlos would hear him sniffle from all the way downstairs and race up to check on him.

Before TK could even get his thoughts in order, his face was sandwiched between Carlos’ hands as thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. He loved Carlos’ eyes, he loved getting lost in their depth, but he didn’t love the way they only ever seemed to look at him with worry nowadays.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” Carlos asked in a soft voice. He was worried. He always was.

TK closed his eyes and let a few more tears slip free as he drew in a shaky breath. “My head.”

“Get back in bed, sweetheart.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, TK?”

“This,” TK said, gesturing towards his head. “It’s been five months and it’s not getting any better. I’m sick of being in pain all the time, I’m sick of not being able to work, I’m sick of being a burden on you.”

“Hey,” Carlos breathed, tilting TK’s head up so they were looking at each other. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden.”

“I keep making you cancel plans to take care of me. We don’t do anything anymore, you just look at me like I’m going to fall apart if there’s a loud noise or if i go from a dark room into a bright one. Just because my life is ruined, it doesn’t mean that yours has to be too.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like this, but I promise you that I’m never going to want to be anywhere as much as I always want to be by your side. I love you, TK. I don’t care how long this recovery process takes, I’m not going to love you any less.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Never,” Carlos said firmly. “I’m always going to be here to love you. I’m gonna go downstairs and bring up your meds and something to eat, then we can spend the day in bed and try the date tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

TK nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Carlos pressed a kiss to TK’s temple before disappearing back downstairs.

When he returned, Carlos handed TK a handful of assorted pills and a smoothie before sliding under the covers and wrapping his arm around TK’s waist.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“You mean the world to me and I’ll never let you forget that.”

#bad things happen bingo #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #writing*#userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #userjillybean #uservickytoria #userac

72 notes · View notes

withoneheadlight · 4 years ago

Note

oh man that one with billy convincing steve to skip work has got me thinking trophy husband billy

Oh, anon! 💗💗💗💗adkahdshdhdkhkhdYESSS. I LOVE this idea!

And I’m SURE he would be the happiest trophy husband. And also the kind that's showy. Has so much fun going over the top with it, being gossip material. All cliché-y, and Diva-like. Basically confirming what everyone thinks about him (about them) precisely because it’s the diametrically opposed to what it really is.

Doing things like:

Mowing the lawn in mini-mini-shorts. Working on his tan on their lovely backyard on the sunny Sunday Summer mornings (in that exact spot where –coincidentally– Mr. Walker, their blatantly homophobic next door neighbor, would have to get out of his own backyard with his eyes closed not to see). Being reaaaally polite with everyone around (Mr. Walker included), smiling and waving his hand like “Hiiii, Janice! How did that new face treatment go?” because they live in a Nice Place now, six years after Robert Harrington made Steve climb his way up the company ladder right from the bottom “Exactly like everyone else”, both as a punishment and a trial; after working their asses out of their shitty one-bedroom apartment, having to prove themselves in every single step (as Steve and Billy, but also as SteveandBilly), but,

Here they are.

And now Steve has a very good job, one he’s genuinely good at, one that pays for much more than hardly the bills and maybe having dinner out from time to time. And they’re happy and they are together and they fucking made it, despite barely anyone around them given two shits. Now, Steve slicks his wild hair back from Monday to Friday, wears the nicest suits, so fitting and sexy and oh so preppy Billy sometimes gets a hard-on just from seeing them all together in the dressing room, hanging in a perfectly tidy line, made of the same material of sins.

So.

He just doesn’t see the point in not treating himself every once in a while. Make Steve run late for work or not getting there at all. In no letting himself enjoy the way those tailored beauties emphasize the shape of Steve’s glorious ass. Enjoy the certainty that in a big, stylish, impeccably neat office downtown, Steve’s dad is rolling his eyes all the way back into their sockets.

And also.

In not letting himself revel in the exhilarating feeling of sliding full into this ‘hot-mess trophy hubby’ persona almost everyone around them assumes he is. Steve’s Harrington boy-toy. “That California scum. Must be real good at sucking dick to get a deal like that.” Make the rumors roll down the small streets of Hawkins and under the door of his own father’s house. Thrive in the knowledge that every time Neil Hargrove hears any or those rumors or gets even the tiiiniest glimpse of them two together, going out and about holding hands, feels like he’s about to puke his guts out thinking about what his son has ‘become’.

And aside from that, he kind of––enjoys, this trophy husband thing, to be honest. It’s been ten years since they got together now. Billy likes to keep things spiced-up. So when Steve is promoted and they move to be close to the new office, along with the house Billy buys a pair of powder pink slippers, fluffy ball of floating fur on top, and a see-through, fur-riveted robe to match. Some days he goes to his morning cockteling&tanning session in the backyard wearing only that (“Heeeey! How ya doin’ Mr. Walker?”). Kisses Steve goodbye long and filthy at the door, where everyone can see, opening the robe wide to wrap it around them both together, pressing their bodies flush, biting at his ear and whispering “Bring me a diamond when you come back, honey bunny” making Steve snort but say "You deserve a million of them, babe" making Billy melt, feel a bit like he's dripping love out of all the pores of his body, making a puddle that will permanently stain the glamorous white marble of the entryway as he waves Steve goodbye, scratches with feign indifference at the trail of fair hairs coming out his flashy-green pants to counteract the way Steve's killer smile makes him blush as hard as the first time, a whole decade away, that cold November night when he grabbed Billy by the collar of his T-shirt and said "I'm gonna kiss you. And then you're gonna punch me. And I don't care.”

It’s like a fucking fairytale. The way things were going? The most Billy expected out of life was live if fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse behind. But now, he’s got the guy of his dreams. He’s got a life he could have never dreamed of. He’s got Steve, now. Steve, who’s good, is caring. Always fights him back. Doesn’t buy any of the shit he tries to pull off. Steve, who's got lips like that moment the earth forgets about gravity when you’re riding down the hill of a rollercoaster. Got eyes that can rip out of you promises you never thought you'd make (like: I do and forever and not even death). That always see Billy when they look at him.

And now, he gets to wake up every morning before he does, put the Moka pot on the stove. Gets to see Steve’s sleepy face right after rolling out of bed, hair still untamed, pouty lips, bare feet dragging over the floor. See the way he beams, smile wide and devastatingly sweet when Billy tells him “I made you coffee, babe”. Gets Steve kissing him like a daydream, laying him over the kitchen table, fucking him before even touching breakfast with his fancy pink robe on.

And Billy thought he would have to change. Give something, to have something. Didn’t really mind. Too lucky to complain. Thought he would have to stop being mean once they got married. Play the tamed part. Thought he was going to have to behave to fit into the rich and respectable life they had landed at. But. No-No. Rich people? They’re way meaner than regular people, turns out. Billy’s just been upgraded to play for the Asshole’s World Championship Cup.

And he’s always been good at sports.

So he goes to the hair salon the afternoon before any important event. Gets a facial. Does his nails. Buys new clothes. Gets all Pretty Woman on himself just so Steve can show him off. And oh. OH. OHHH. Steve does show him off. To his dad. His mom. The whole party. Doesn’t give a fuck about whatever people keeps on whispering behind their backs. Offers his arm to Billy and Billy clings to him, keeps his chin up. He’s never been as afraid of anything as much as Steve not loving him back. He’s fearless now. Because here they are. So he lets Steve walk him through the crowd as the King he was born like. Brilliant. Proud. Letting Billy to deal with the vultures if he fancies to do that.

“Awwww. But look at you!! Anyone can tell you two are soooo in love!”

Fake boobs. Fake Louboutins. Fake Smile. Billy is Queen Bee now. He’s got this.

“Oh, no Miss Treadaway. I dearly appreciate you noticing how good my acting skills are. But it’s exactly as you said to Miss Walton the other day. I only married Stevie here because he’s got a big dick and it’s loaded. And he only married me because of how good I look on all fours. You’re too perceptive to hide it!”

But with Steve’s parents? With Steve’s parents Billy is relentlessly n i c e. When Robert Harrington won’t even look at him. When Crystal Harrington blows saccharine all over him like in a bad magic trick, deceivingly sweet when she says, “Well William. Maybe it's time you get a real job too now our Steven is running his own branch" cold war buzzing between them when Billy spreads his most honest, open smile, not a millimeter of animadversion showing “But I already have a real job, Crystal. I take care of your son. And there’s also, you know, that side thing I do of running Garage” making her fingers clutch hard around her cup of fine champagne, making Steve’s lips fight to repress a grin, eyes fond, and soft and in love. And Billy will do whatever it takes, endure whatever he has to, if what he gets in return is this: the way the narrow space keeping them apart feels like inevitability when they're about to kiss.

And everyone thought he was going after the money, when they married. Most still do. But Billy never actually asked for diamonds. Well, not for real. But he gets one anyway. Tenth anniversary and counting. It shines unreal on his finger, as much as this life he has now, as the liquid shine of Steve’s eyes when he says “They come from fire, just like you. I always thought they would fit so well. And looks like I was right” and just a few years before, Billy would have said “This is too much, I can’t take it” too afraid Steve would get the wrong impression too, too afraid to not be up to him. But now, he understands, that this is just another way Steve is trying to take care of him, to show him love. So now, Billy lets Steve spoil him as much as he wants. Take him out for dinner without reason. Hand him a sealed envelope saying, “What about showing me that ocean you love so much?” Kissing him in front of everyone, all the time, ringed fingers intertwined.

Lets him buy them a California King just to make a stupid joke, get Billy Hargrove to blush.

“We can ditch all of this, if you’re not happy. You know that, right? I don’t care about anything else as long as it’s you and I”

Billy shakes his head. “I am happy, pretty boy. Happier than I ever thought I could be” Tickles Steve’s nose with the fluffy, pink fuzz all around his robe until he sneezes and chuckles. “But I wanna know,” he says, tone pouty and tragic “It is true, what everybody says? Am I really a trophy husband?”

Steve shuffles closer, rumbles low in his throat. It’s an early Sunday morning. They’re gonna spend all time left until breakfast fucking in bed. Then cockteling&tanning together ‘till lunch. And then, after, he’s sure he can convince Steve to put on one of those gorgeous suits, let Billy grind against the soft fabric, make a mess out of him. Make him beg and squirm. Pull down his fly real slow, down on his knees. Suck him off. Eat him out. Make him moan I love yous brighter than diamonds when Billy gets inside him. But right now, Steve just kisses him silly, lowers down the covers to take a look down, at his leopard print, see-through, hideous new briefs. The cheapest ones he could find.

Because Billy’s trash. Will always be trash.

“Oh yeah, babe. You are. A fucking trophy. The best anyone could have”

But he’s posh trash now.

💎

The original post (xxxx) xD 💍

#harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy hargrove #Billy x Steve #xask #askfic #xharringrove #the harrington-hargrove household #xaskwithoneheadlight #xfluff #xpronight

250 notes · View notes

phoenixblack89 · 3 years ago

Text

Fera Ingris

Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons

It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.

My wonderful tag list:

@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel

"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."

Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent.

"Are ye listening lass?"

"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now! As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!"

"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear.

"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."

"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much"

"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns."

"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?"

"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?"

"Sorry lass I got to -"

The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys.

**********

The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends.

Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things?

She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since...

No, she thought don't think about it.

She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty.

Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles.

A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her.

"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her...

Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was?

He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there.

"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."

"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet.

"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something.

"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face.

"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her."

"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces.

Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.

Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.

She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.

"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle.

"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"

"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip.

"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"

"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together.

God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.

"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself."

"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.

**********

Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.

"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."

The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.

"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."

"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."

"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.

**********

A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal.

A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance.

**********

They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.

"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy.

He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now.

Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago.

He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place.

He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.

**********

Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her.

"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy.

That damn hand.

He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace.

"Ya alright?"

"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking.

**********

The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left.

She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled.

Almost home.

Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.

**********

Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp.

Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer.

"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood.

"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more.

"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth.

"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!"

Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them.

"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes.

"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut.

"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane.

"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well.

"He dead? "

"We're not sure..."

OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark.

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion.

"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there."

"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him.

"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick.

"Yeah."

Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily.

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair.

"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself.

"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull.

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed.

"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question.

"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies.

Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"

Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man.

"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog.

"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply.

"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV.

*********

Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.

"Hey."

"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces. "Yea... Ya not comin' though."

"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away.

"Daryl!"

"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.

"Dixon..."

"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed."

"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"

"Nah ya don't!"

"Yes I fucking do!"

"No. Ya stayin' here!"

"I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO! And that's final!"

The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.

Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her. "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead."

"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange. He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"Hey!"

Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair. So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.

"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.

#the walking dead fanfiction #PhoenixBWrites #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x oc #Fera Ingris #DarylDixon #daryl dixon x oc #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction

48 notes · View notes

trulivin · 4 years ago

Text

Not What Everyone Thinks

A/N: Yay I got another one done! LOL. Anyways, to the nonny who requested, I hope you enjoy. I hope I did a decent job at portraying Rafe. He’s more down to earth in this one so I don’t know if I like it too much. We’ll see. I rewatched OBX and like I’m telling you he is ten times fucked up than he is in here. Pardon my language, but hopefully you all will forgive me if he isn’t really like how he is in the show. Anyways, enjoy, send feedback, like, comment, etc.

Rafe Cameron x Reader, Outer Banks

Warnings: implied sexual innuendos? uhhh language. That’s it.

*gif isn’t mine*

Upon the request of Sarah Cameron, Y/N was enlisted to help decorate her mansion for her birthday party. She tried roping the rest of the Pogues into it, and Kie was originally going to help but was needed elsewhere at the time, and the boys opted out. Even John B.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he had said with a peck on the cheek. “Whatever,” Sarah rolled her eyes and turned back to Y/N. “Fineeeee,” Y/N sighed, earning a hug.

So, when the day finally arrived Y/N found herself walking up to the oh-so-familiar house she had spent many days with Sarah in.

Y/N was essentially a Kook by blood, but, much like Kie, she chose to hang out with the Pogues, much to her mother’s disappointment. Sarah Cameron, however, had been her best friend growing up and remained a very good friend even when Y/N started hanging out with John B’s crew.

For Y/N, she stayed out of the whole Kook versus Pogue thing. It was never something she, quite frankly, wanted to be involved in and she was thankful neither sides made her pick. It was absolutely ridiculous that the boys were constantly getting into fights. And, it was especially annoying when Rafe Cameron always decided to mess with JJ, John B, or Pope all the time.

Y/N never understood why he did it. She had known him her whole life becoming friends even, because of Sarah, and then she saw what drugs did to him. It was quite depressing to watch, so Y/N didn’t and went to hang out with the Pogues instead.

Luckily, though, that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed on Tanneyhill anymore. Especially now that Sarah had to decorate the entire mansion.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sarah said, opening the door for her. “I know,” Y/N laughed. Sarah playfully rolled her eyes and shoved her friend a bit before the two started their job.

Y/N and Sarah were in the middle of stringing lights when she heard two approaching voices arguing down the hall. “Tonight is your sister’s birthday! Do not screw this up, Rafe! I’m sick of your inability to get anything done around here. You are almost twenty years old, it’s time to get it together son,” Ward chastised.

“I told you, I’d get it!” Rafe argued back. “When?” Ward asked, extremely annoyed. “If I recall you were supposed to get the new parts ordered last week!”

“I know, but I swear I--” Rafe started but was cut off.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I have to help get everything in order tonight. Just get it done,” Ward spat, before crossing the living room. Sarah and Y/N exchanged nervous glances before Sarah’s mouth turned up into a grin. “Sorry you had to hear that,” Sarah giggled quietly before stepping down the ladder. “It’s fine,” the other girl smiled back.

“I have to go grab more lights, you good?” she asked. “Yep all good here,” Y/N said standing up on her toes a bit.

As Y/N was focusing on trying not to fall off the ladder, she heard Sarah say, “Shouldn’t have taken that money to buy that stupid bike.” “Piss off Sarah,” Rafe snarled as Sarah laughed all the way down the hall.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe snapped at Y/N. “Putting up lights. What does it look like genius?” Y/N bit back, making a face, but not turning to face the pissed-off Kook. “I don’t recall Pogues being allowed in the house,” he hissed.

Y/N turned to face him. Rafe was glaring at her. Instead of cowering away from him, like most people do, she glared right back. “If you do recall Rafe, I was once a Kook. I practically lived here my entire childhood,” Y/N hissed.

“Yeah well that was until you and my sister ran off with the island trash,” Rafe spat. Y/N just glared at Sarah’s brother. Truth be told, a long time ago, the two actually liked each other when they were friends. They were only two years apart in age, and yeah, Y/N was his little sister’s friend, but she was one he never minded. At least until she ran off with the Pogues.

“Why do you have to act like this?” Y/N asked, catching Rafe off guard. “What?” Rafe replied.

“Why do you act like such a dick? We were friends once you know,” she said.

“I’m not a dick,” Rafe scoffed, his anger subsiding a bit. Y/N snorted, “Yeah, you are. And you’re a big baby too, oh my god.”

“Oh shut the hell up, Y/N,” Rafe grunted, slumping in the lounge chair. Y/N giggled hopping down from the ladder and moving to the balcony that overlooked the room. Her new position also happened to be nearly right in front of the moody boy.

Rafe glanced up from messing with his shirt as Y/N placed the ladder a few feet from him. He found his eyes wandering up her legs and to the skin that showed when she reached up to hang the lights across the railing. “You’re staring,” Y/N sing-songed, not looking away from what she was doing.

Rafe felt his face heat up. He was still of the male species after all. It didn’t matter how out of it he was or how angry he was: he still had eyes.

Y/N let out another laugh, and glanced back down at him. Rafe was no longer staring at her but was extremely occupied messing with his sleeves. She watched his ring-clad fingers bunch the material up his toned, tanned arms, and found herself staring this time.

His vineyard-vines button up fit perfectly across his broad shoulders and muscular arms. It was also fitted so perfectly that you could almost see the outline of his abs through the material. Y/N felt as though the room got quite hot even with the air conditioning on.

Ever since she met Sarah, she always thought her older brother was attractive. There was something about him that caught Y/N’s eye. The best part was that she knew the real Rafe too. The one who wasn’t on drugs and acting like an idiot. Maybe that’s what always made her so intrigued by him.

But, alas, he still acted out which stopped her from hanging around him. Yet, that still didn’t mean he wasn’t extremely hot for a Kook.

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, I am trying to focus here,” Y/N mumbled before she could even think. Rafe instantly froze and locked eyes with the girl on the ladder. He noticed how one arm was holding on to the railing while the other hung by her side. Her shirt was also still noticeably bunched up, and Y/N’s eyes were also partially blown.

“Now who’s the one staring?” Rafe smirked, a hint of his old self in his voice. Y/N snapped out of her daze, rolling her eyes. “Hush,” she said, turning back to the last string of lights.

Y/N finally finished and hopped down, Rafe following her every movement. “Listen,” Y/N started, standing in front of him, “You were a decent person before the drugs. This isn’t the way to get your dad’s attention.”

“You don’t know shit,” he snapped, his anger flaring again as he looked up at her.

“Oh stop yelling at me, I don’t care what you think. I just know you weren’t like this,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Rafe, you and I used to be friends.”

“Yeah, until you ran off with those damn Pogues!” Rafe shouted.

“God! Enough with the whole Kooks versus Pogues shit! What does it matter? My parents are Kooks! I’m a Kook! So what? It’s the person, Rafe, not their social status. Sarah gets it! But that’s not even the problem! You’re the problem,” Y/N snapped.

“Do you really want to associate yourself with a bunch of lunatics who put guns to peoples’ heads when they feel like it?”

“Rafe, Topper was drowning John B! What the hell was JJ supposed to do? Let his best friend die? Tell me this! If it were the other way around, would you have pulled the gun?” Y/N groaned.

Rafe didn’t answer this time, but just stared up at her. He really only thought about her question for a second before studying her face. Her pupils were still slightly dilated yet he could see her sincerity as well.

“Exactly,” she huffed. “Look, I’ve known you for so long,” she said softly, “You aren’t the bad guy. Drugs mess people up, Rafe. And it sure as hell won’t get your father’s attention the way you want it.”

Rafe was shocked to hear what she was saying, but he pulled his gaze away from her hard one. “I--I really don’t know what else to do though,” Rafe finally spoke, refusing to look at her. Y/N closed her eyes for a second taking a breath. “You can start by being present for your sister’s birthday party tonight. And not shitfaced and present, or on crack and present. Sober,” Y/N suggested, firmly.

“Wow, you two on speaking terms again?” Sarah’s voice cut in as she strutted in the room. Y/N turned her attention to her friend and rolled her eyes, her normal relaxed look slipping back on her face. “If you count arguing,” she laughed as she took the lights from Sarah.

“Oh of course,” Sarah shot back with a wink. Rafe watched Y/N as she and his sister laughed and joked with each other. To say he missed the easy-going conversations with Y/N was an understatement. He always found it was so simple to talk to her. She would never judge and would always somehow say the right thing.

But, unfortunately, as he began working with his father more, Rafe found himself trying to impress Ward in any way he could to make his father proud. In the midst of all of that, Rafe managed to push her away and go down an even darker path.

“Well, I will see you tonight, birthday girl,” Y/N said snapping Rafe out of his thoughts. “Thank you for helping me set up,” Sarah smiled. “Oh and tell your mother she does not need to bring me any gifts tonight!”

“No promises,” Y/N said, giving her friend a hug. “You know how she is at parties.”

“I know,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “The whole island is going to be here tonight I swear. Leave it to Rose to throw a huge party. It’s like Midsummers came early.”

“It’s your seventeenth birthday. It’s a big deal. Just enjoy the attention,” Y/N giggled as she headed for the exit. “Bye Rafe!” she called down the hall. Rafe put a lazy hand up as he heard the door slam shut. He was still lost in thought over everything Y/N had just told him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting those parts dad wants?” Sarah asked her brother with her hand on her hip. “Mind your damn business Sarah,” Rafe snapped.

Sarah glared at her brother before rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she responded, turning on her heel, leaving Rafe all alone.

At 6:30, Y/N stood in front of her mirror with a horrified expression. “Why do I have to wear this mom?” she groaned. Her mother had decided it would be a good idea to wear a light pink dress with a neckline for a prude. “This is a party, not a church service!” Y/N complained.

“The dress is gorgeous sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/M/N replied. Y/N studied herself in the mirror for a moment.

“I’m not wearing this,” Y/N concluded.

“Yes, you are, Y/N,” her mom said strictly. “You’ve been running around with those street rats for too long. A bunch of your father’s business partners and their families will be attending Sarah’s party tonight. You need to look your best.”

“But mom,” Y/N whined, “It’s still a seventeen year old’s birthday party. Not some business thing!”

“Y/N, you are going to wear that and that’s final. You can wear whatever you want when Sarah throws her own party for a bunch of idiotic teenagers,” her mother said before walking out of her room.

At least this stupid thing goes above my knees, Y/N thought to herself before following after her mother.

“You ready?” Y/N’s dad asked as the two girls walked into the kitchen. Y/N’s father turned to his daughter and stifled a laugh. “Wow, sweetheart.” Y/N groaned and buried her face in her hands. “MOM!” she groaned. “No, let’s go.”

When they arrived at Tanneyhill, Y/N slunk through the crowd hoping no one would notice her. She had a feeling her mother might pull something like this so she stashed other clothes in Sarah’s room.

Y/N caught a glimpse of JJ’s blond hair and ducked behind a person. She wouldn’t hear the end of it if he saw her in a dress like this. The man she was hiding behind turned around giving her a questioning look. “Oh hi Mr. Daniels,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, straightening herself out and ducking behind another person. Fortunately for her, she made it out of the crowded room and to the steps leading upstairs.

Just as she began her ascent a voice rang out from behind her, “Oh my god. What the hell are you wearing?” JJ cackled. Y/N closed her eyes and turned around slowly. “Har har guys,” she glared at all of her friends crowded around the steps. Both Sarah and Kie had nice casual dresses on while the boys wore what they would typically wear. Except JJ was in an actual t-shirt rather than one his tank tops.

“Oh shut up I know I look like Peppa Pig. Blame it on my mother,” Y/N said sourly. “I’m going to change.”

“Hahahahahaha!” they all cackled. Sarah finally calmed down, pretending to wipe her eyes from her tears of laughter. “Let her go change,” she said, “c’mon.” Y/N shot her a grateful smile before they shuffled away.

Just as Y/N was about to get into Sarah’s room, however, she heard a door close down the hall, and looked up to see Rafe approaching her with a shit-eating grin. He was still wearing what he had on that afternoon.

“Just shut up, don’t say anything,” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. Rafe burst out laughing and Y/N’s face flushed. He was the last person she wanted to see while she was still wearing this damn dress. If she wasn’t so irritated right now, she would have even been happy to hear Rafe laughing so care-free.

“Why are you wearing that? Holy shit!” he continued to laugh. “You look like Little Bo Peep just with your knees showing!”

“Go awayyyyyy,” Y/N whined, banging her head on the door. Rafe put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he grinned walking past her. “But if I’m going to this party, you have to show back up too,” he called before disappearing down the steps.

Y/N stood there in mild shock. Rafe wasn’t angry or wasted. He was just Rafe.

Shaking herself out of her little daze, Y/N hurried into Sarah’s room and found her ripped jeans and black tank top. “Thank the lord,” she muttered to herself before stripping.

Downstairs, Rafe gulped nervously trying to shake that urge for cocaine. It was his safety net that took his mind off the disappointment in his father’s eyes. He had almost done it though. Almost. Right before he came downstairs actually. But something told him not to. Well, someone really. Y/N’s words echoed in his mind from earlier. He noticed when she mentioned the word ‘drug’ she almost had that same look of disappointment in her eyes. And god, she was the last person he wanted to disappoint, for some reason.

So, he didn’t do it.

But, he still made a beeline for the adult drink table. Y/N would still drink if she could. Not shitfaced, but still, he thought to himself. Luckily, Rafe had managed to get through, sober, the whole awkward “you’re here” conversation with his dad too, so his drink was well-deserved.

Rafe stood there allowing his eyes to wander all over the room. He saw Topper was trying to talk to Sarah again about her dating choices. “Idiot,” he muttered into his glass.

Kelce was flirting with one of Sarah’s friends, a lot of the men, including his father, were huddled in the corner talking about some business thing while the women were gossiping about something, the Pogues were looking wildly out of place and little uncomfortable, keeping to themselves since Sarah was busy talking with Topper, and the rest of the people were breaking off into little groups talking amongst themselves.

This is stupid why am I even here, Rafe thought before his gaze caught Y/N’s figure. She had obviously changed into something more her style.

Rafe’s eyes followed her beautiful hair that fell over her shoulders and down her back, across the skin revealed by deep cut in the back of her top. He let his eyes linger on her butt for a moment longer, before trailing them down her toned, jean-clad legs and to the floor.

She was far hotter than he remembered. When did she grow up?

Sighing, Rafe brought his eyes back up to her face and frowned when he saw a scowl on hers. He liked her much better when she was laughing like this afternoon. She appeared arguing with her mom who was gesturing up and down to her outfit.

“That neckline is cut way too low, Y/N!” her mother hissed. “So what?” Y/N flung her hands in the air, annoyed.

“That’s too inappropriate!”

“I don’t care! It’s a birthday party! Plus! I can actually breathe right now! That neckline was too high!”

“It was perfect!”

“No!”

“Y/N!”

“I’m not having this conversation at my friend’s birthday party,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing her way past her mom. She slipped through the crowd and disappeared out the back into the night.

Rafe watched as her mother went right back to her group of ladies and began complaining about her daughter. Ah, yes, he was very familiar with that one. His father had pulled that on him so many times.

He sighed before pushing off his spot on the wall and grabbing one of the extra bottles of wine from under the table and followed Y/N through the door she just went out.

Y/N sat at the end of the dock furiously picking some of the wood that was splintering. “I just wanted to enjoy my friend’s birthday party but NO! Always have to be the perfect little daughter you want me to be,” she mumbled to herself. “Just so I don’t mess up the stupid little reputation on this damn island.” Y/N groaned, allowing her anger to get the best of her.

“Well guess what?” she finally shouted, “I’m going to get off this damn island one day so I don’t have to put up with this bullshit anymore! How about that?” Y/N felt better yelling into the darkness.

“If you leave then can I come too?” a familiar voice said in the darkness. Y/N whirled around in bewilderment and found Rafe standing a little ways off with a hand in a pocket and the other gripping a bottle of alcohol. Y/N’s face softened as he sat down beside her, handing her the bottle of wine.

“You looked like you needed this,” he said.

“Thanks,” she responded before putting the bottle to her lips. She sighed as the wine seemed to warm her body up and already started washing her irritation away. Y/N also became hyper-aware of how close Rafe was sitting next to her. Their arms were slightly pressed against one another.

“It’s ironic you know,” Rafe started, “You lecture me about getting my father’s attention, but here you are pouting about your mother.” He let out a laugh. “Yes, yes it’s all very funny. She just expects me to be this perfect little Kook daughter and wear pretty colors and go shopping or some shit,” Y/N ranted.

Rafe listened patiently until she finally let out a huff.

“Well, you know, in your mother’s defense, you still looked good in that dress,” Rafe spoke after a moment still looking out at the star-covered marsh. Y/N snorted, passing him the bottle. “Oh please. I looked like Peppa Pig.”

“Yes, you did,” Rafe laughed a bit. “But still a pretty Peppa.”

Y/N felt her face go warm again at his compliment. They hadn’t spoken like this in years. Y/N remembered how kind Rafe could really be. She was devastated when he did a 180 and lashed out at everyone he cared about. Yet, could she really blame him? She saw how hard he worked to impress Ward, but his father still dubbed him incompetent. And yes, Rafe did some stupid stuff, but don’t all teenage boys?

“Thanks,” she smiled as he handed her back the bottle. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the small lapping of water and passing the bottle back and forth.

“I’m surprised you aren’t scolding me for drinking,” Rafe sighed after a bit. “I never said you couldn’t drink when you got to the party. Just not before,” Y/N specified. “Oh right,” Rafe said.

“I’m glad you came,” Y/N said quietly, turning to look at him. Rafe felt her gaze on him and turned to face her too. “Why?” he asked. Y/N shrugged a bit and looked down at her hands. “I don’t know really. I guess it was just nice talking to you today,” she said.

“We argued more than talked, you know,” Rafe grinned as she looked back up at him rolling her eyes playfully. “Well of course,” she smirked. “Who would we be if we didn’t argue all the time. Remember when we argued that whole ride up to the mainland with your dad and Sarah?”

“How can I not?” Rafe laughed. “You were so mad you turned bright red.”

Y/N burst out in a fit of giggles, and Rafe couldn’t help but find himself smiling harder at the gorgeous sound.

Eventually, their laughs died down and they both stared out into the night sky. “This is what I was talking about earlier, you know,” Y/N said, breaking the silence again. “What?” Rafe was puzzled.

“When I said that you weren’t the bad guy,” she mumbled.

“You’re the opposite actually,” Y/N said more firmly, looking back up at him. He watched her, thoughtfully, as she continued, “I mean look how much fun we’re having. Yes, we’re drinking, but we aren’t completely wasted, and you aren’t high right now. You’re you again.”

“I can’t shake it though,” he replied quietly. “I know it’s hard, but there are ways to fix it,” Y/N said.

Rafe didn’t say anything as he looked into her dark eyes. Through the darkness, he saw a flash of pain dance through her eyes. He hadn’t realized their faces had gotten extremely closer. “Rafe,” she practically whispered. He felt her breath fan over his lips. “You don’t have to do drugs to get Ward’s attention. You’re better than that.”

Y/N finished speaking as their noses brushed up against one another. She heard her friends’ voices in her head, the voice that told her Rafe couldn’t just up and quit, but she didn’t care. His arm behind her locked her in and his skin burned on her back. She knew she shouldn’t, but she did anyway.

With a slight tilt of her head, her lips met his in the night. Y/N’s body turned more towards him as he returned the kiss immediately. It was a slow burn that started in her chest and spread throughout her body as his soft lips melted with hers.

Y/N felt Rafe gently tug at her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her. He instantly gripped her hips and pulled her on top of him allowing his tongue to explore her mouth.

Inside, Sarah was wandering around looking for her friend. “Have you seen Y/N?” Sarah asked John B after looking around for her for the past ten minutes. “Nope,” John B shrugged and went back to trying to throw shrimp in JJ’s mouth. “Boys,” she rolled her eyes and went to the back door.

Sarah stepped outside and squinted down the dock. It was fairly dark, but the moon granted her some light. A weird looking silhouette broke the moonlight a bit and Sarah called, “Y/N?” The dark blob split into two figures and Sarah heard a faint, “shit!”

“Well that’s new,” she laughed when she realized the voice belonged to her brother. “Ok never mind!” Sarah called before ducking back inside.

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, slipping the straps of her tank top and bra back up.

“Oops,” Rafe laughed from beside her.

“We should probably go back inside,” Y/N giggled a bit before standing up. “Or we could, y’know,” Rafe smirked, sitting up on his knees and pushing up her shirt a bit planting wet kisses on her stomach. Y/N resisted the urge to moan and tugged him up.

“I can’t ditch your sister’s party as much as I really...really, want too…” she half moaned looking up at Rafe as he bit his lip and raked his eyes shamelessly all over her body.

His mouth quirked up and then he burst out laughing, “Wow. How the tables have turned.” “Shut up,” she said, shoving him out of the way playfully.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” he shot back at her with a grin. Rafe caught up and slung an arm around Y/N as they started walking back towards the house. “Rafe,” Y/N said with a serious tone, stopping before they started up the lawn. He looked down at her nervously, afraid this moment would be ruined and it somehow would be his fault.

Y/N took a deep breath and faced him. “I can only do this if you can promise me you’ll stop.”

He knew what she meant. He felt the itch rise again, but easily pushed it away as he looked into her nervous eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Rafe knew he wanted her. God he wanted her so bad, but he didn’t know if it would be enough. “I-I don’t know,” he finally said.

Y/N’s face fell slightly, but he quickly caught himself, “I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. Believe me, for you, I want to so bad. But the reality of it…” his words died in his mouth. This was the most sober Y/N had seen him yet.

“Of course. I know how hard it would be and I’m not blaming you for that,” she said with a small smile returning to her face. “Please help me,” Rafe finally broke, bending down and wrapping his arms around her.

Y/N stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tall frame as the wave of emotion passed over him. “Shhhh. I promise you I will,” Y/N whispered in his ear. “I want to make this right,” he said softly.

“You will, Rafe. You will.”

__________________________________________________

Wow so proud of myself that I actually finished this tonight. Hope everyone liked it!

1K notes · View notes

asian-hero · 4 years ago

Note

Number 14 ("Would you like to put the star on the very top of the tree?") is SO CUTE. I picture this with Eri and class 1a! Could you make a drabble (or whatever you like) in which the reader is in class 1a and Eri is particularly attached to her (like a big sister or something) and she ships reader with Mirio or Todoroki?

A/N: You have to have known that I would absolutely say that Eri ships the reader with Todoroki, I mean, c’mon, look at my blog (but seriously, this is such a cute idea, thank you for sharing)

I would also like to thank Kim Taehyung for releasing “Snow Flower” because it was the sole reason I could get one final story out for Christmas :) Merry Christmas everyone!

Wait also I know that in the manga she dressed up for Christmas, but let’s just pretend it’s her first Christmas and it was before Aizawa had explained anything to her okay? :)

"Would you like to put the star on the very top of the tree?" from Tis the Season prompt list

Summary: What better way to celebrate the holiday season then with the rest of your class and a cute little girl? You may even get a boyfriend out of it

Words: 2,286

Christmas. A holiday where you spend time with those who you love the most, and where children and adults alike get excited to open the presents under the tree. It’s a holiday beloved by all, if not only for the material reasons, then for the memories and love the holiday brings.

However, one certain little girl at U.A. had never known of Christmas, and your class wanted to fix that this year.

You had all found out that Eri had no idea what Christmas was when Aizawa had left her in your class’ care for a few hours, with the excuse that he needed to attend an important meeting, and he wasn’t allowed to bring her along. So, while you and the other girls were fawning over her, the subject of Christmas had been brought up, which had caught the attention of Kaminari, who suggested that you all should decorate the dorm for the festive season. As your classmates had gotten more and more into the Christmas spirit, with Yaoyorozu even stating that there was no reason to go out and buy decorations, since she could probably make enough for the dorm, you felt a slight tug on your sleeve.

Turning your head, you were met with the most adorable, inquisitive eyes you’d ever been graced with looking at. Kneeling down to match Eri’s height, you tilted your head, a small smile on your lips. “What’s up?”

“What’s Christmas?”

At first, you were confused. You weren’t sure how anyone could not know about Christmas, especially someone her age. However, as your brain had caught up with the situation, you let out a short hum, trying to think of the best way to describe the holiday.

“Well, it’s a holiday in winter that’s about being around those you love and enjoying things like making gingerbread houses, eating good food, and opening presents,” Deciding that you would bestow upon her the white lie that every parent told their children, you spoke, “There’s also a man named ‘Santa,’ and he looks at your behavior for the year and decides if you’ve been naughty or nice. For all the nice children, he travels around the world to give them presents that they wish for,”

Her bottom lip jutted out slightly, a sign that she was thinking about something, “What kind of presents?”

“Well, you usually write a letter to him, telling him what you want and he’ll try to get you what you want,” Seeing how her eyes sparkled a bit when you told her, you felt your smile grow larger, “How about next time you come and visit, we’ll write our letter’s to Santa together, yeah?”

You let out a giggle when she enthusiastically nodded her head.

Soon enough, Aizawa had returned from his meeting, picking up Eri and bidding you all a good night, but not before you and a few other students had asked him if she could come back later to write her letter to Santa and to help decorate the tree. Thankfully, your teacher thought it was a good idea for her to have some fun during the holiday season, and agreed that she could come the following weekend.

So, giving the little girl a tight hug with the promise to do all the fun Christmas activities soon, you bid her good bye.

Little did you know, as you were gushing over how cute Eri was to the other girls, a certain candy cane haired boy’s eyes had never left your figure once, neither had the small flush that decorated his cheeks.

As the weekend slowly approached, all of your classmates had chipped in to buy all of the items you’d need in order to make Eri’s first Christmas the best it could be. Your class had decided that it would be most efficient if you were all divided into teams so everything would get done on time. A few of your classmates had gone out to buy decorations, while others went to go get ingredients to bake some gingerbread cookies for the little girl. Kirishima and Kaminari had insisted on being the ones to go and get the tree, which therefore meant that Sero and Bakugou had tagged along in order to make sure that those two wouldn’t get hurt, or get something that was too big for the room.

Once all of the items had been bought, you, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka were in charge of setting up some of the decorations, like the string lights that would hang all around the common area, and setting up the tree and putting down the tree skirt. You were sure that the girls wanted to tease you and Uraraka, since you were fairly certain that neither Todoroki or Midoriya were good decorators, but you decided to put aside your tiny crush on Todoroki in order to make this the best Christmas you could.

Grunting slightly, you stood on your tiptoes, trying to make yourself even taller, though you were already standing on a ladder, in order to hang the final string lights in the corner. While you knew it wasn’t the smartest idea you had, your brain was simply focused on finishing your task. In fact, you were so focused that you didn’t even notice that the ladder began to shake beneath you, the uneven distribution of your weight taking a toll on the stability. It wasn’t until the ladder began to slip from underneath you that you finally noticed how dumb you were being.

Luckily for you, a hand reached out, stabilizing the ladder before it had any chance to fall. Breathing in a sigh of relief, you turned your head, locking eyes with a pair of heterochromatic ones.

“You should be more careful,” Todoroki chastised, not taking his hands off the ladder, “It doesn’t matter if these lights are perfect,”

Smiling, you shook your head, moving to quickly set up the lights before stepping off the ladder, “It’s Eri’s first Christmas, I want it to be special,”

As you moved to get the decorations out of the second box you noticed that Todoroki still lingered behind you, most likely worried that you’d end up hurting yourself.

“Well, at least let me do the other lights,” He spoke, taking the string out of your hands, “I don’t think she’d appreciate her favorite person getting hurt over something like this,”

Before you could even protest, Todoroki was already gone, moving to the next section of the room. With a small smile, you allowed your heart to beat just a bit faster, and for your eyes to linger on him for just a moment longer.

Soon after the common room had been decorated, except for the Christmas tree, it was finally the weekend. Aizawa had dropped off Eri in the morning with the warning that all of you should be on your best behavior, otherwise there’d be consequences. However, the way his eyes softened just a bit when she immediately ran into your arms told you that he wasn’t completely serious.

Once he’d left, you took Eri over to the common room and sat down at the coffee table beside her. Your classmates had left out some pieces of colorful paper out, along with some envelopes, pens, and stickers for her to use to write to Santa. At first, she seemed hesitant about writing, and when you asked why, she told you that she wasn’t sure what she should put down.

“Well, think about some of the things that you really want, and write them down for him,” You paused in your own “letter,” a small smile on your face, “If you aren’t sure of what you want, you can just tell him about what things you like, to give him some idea of what you might like,”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, writing your letters in peace when you noticed someone walking towards you. Looking up from your letter, you smiled at Todoroki’s curious demeanor.

Once he realized that your eyes were on him, he cleared his throat, looking even more curious. “What are you doing?”

“Writing letters to Santa, is it not obvious?” You spoke, a teasing lit to your voice.

“Letters to,” He paused, his eyebrows rising, “‘Santa’?”

You hummed in confirmation, patting a spot beside you. “Come and write one with us, it’ll be fun.”

After a few seconds of him standing there like a statue, you were sure that he was going to reject your offer. However, after you had turned your attention back to your letter, you felt a slight thump next to you, followed by a warm presence by your shoulder. Turning your head, you noticed Todoroki sitting next to you, leaning a bit too close to be friendly.

“You’ll have to help me out too,” He started, grabbing one of the colorful pieces of paper on the table, “I’ve never done this before,”

Smiling at him, you nodded your head, and for the next ten minutes, you three had written and addressed your letters to Santa, and you promised Eri that you’d deliver hers to the jolly man personally, and to Todoroki that you wouldn’t read his.

Finally, with the help of the entirety of class 1-A, you had begun to decorate the Christmas tree that sat in the middle of the room. You would never forget the look of astonishment on Eri’s face when you showed her the bag of ornaments you all had bought, nor would you forget the soft smile that lit up Todoroki’s face when he noticed just how excited she was for decorating the tree.

For a while, all of you helped Eri with decorating, helping her reach the taller branches and watching as she piled many of the cat themed ornaments towards the front of the tree. You had even watched Bakugou lift her on his shoulders to reach the top of the tree, and though his face screamed of his pretend anger, you could tell that the small girl had even wriggled her way into his grinch heart as well.

Though, the moment that you would remember for quite a while was when you pulled out the showstopper: a simplistic golden star topper.

When you pulled the star from the bag you could hear a quiet gasp come from the little girl. Looking over at her, you gave her a warm smile, extending your hand. “Would you like to put the star on the very top of the tree?”

Though she didn’t answer you verbally, the look of excitement made it very clear what her answer was. Squatting down slightly, you hoisted her onto your shoulders, making sure she was secure before moving to grab the star, though a certain boy had beat you to it.

“Looking for this?” Todoroki asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Letting out a quiet laugh, you thanked him before taking the star out of his hands and handing it to Eri. Heading towards the tree, you pointed towards the one upright branch at the top. “Go ahead, give the tree it’s hat,”

With a bit of fumbling, she finally placed the star at the top, cute giggles escaping her lips as she clapped for joy, and though you couldn’t see it, a big smile had found its way to her face. Setting her back down onto the ground, you gave her a gentle high five before she ran over to the rest of your classmates. As you turned around, you found yourself face to face with Todoroki, who continued to look at you with a gaze you couldn’t quite place. Though, as he gave you a small smile, you didn’t really pay attention to anything else.

You didn’t even notice the small plant that Eri had pulled out of one of the bags, nor did you notice Uraraka use her quirk on it.

“So,” You asked, moving a bit closer to the boy who caught your attention, “Was this a successful Christmas?”

He nodded, the soft gaze not leaving his features, “I would say so, she seems happy.”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you could hear your classmates begin to giggle. Turning around, you gave them a look, not understanding what they found to be so funny. When Kaminari had pointed up, you could feel your heart stop in your chest.

Hesitantly, you looked up, not surprised to find some mistletoe floating between the two of you. Snapping your gaze to the boy in front of you, you sighed at the confused look on Todoroki’s face that had resurfaced.

“What does this mean—“

Steeling your nerves, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. As you pulled away, you could feel the heat lick up your cheeks.

“When two people are under the mistletoe, it usually means that they have to kiss,” You explained, not quite looking him in the eyes, “Sorry about that,”

As you were about to leave, you felt him grab your hand, squeezing it gently. Moving to look at him, you noticed a teasing glint flicker in his eyes.

“Well then,” He spoke, pulling you in closer, “We better follow tradition then, right?”

He didn’t even let you answer as he pressed his lips to yours. But you were sure that even if you could speak, nothing would come out.

As the two of you pulled apart, the cheers from you classmates filled the room, with your friends expressing their relief that they’d never have to hear you complain about how he didn’t like you.

While you could feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, you supposed that the Christmas gift you’d received made it worthwhile.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

125 notes · View notes